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Black Heart

Page 24

by Christina Henry


  “Why in the name of all the hells not?” I said.

  “Remember what I told you about magic leaving a trace of itself behind?” Puck said.

  Back on the far-distant planet, when Puck had given me a boost of energy when I’d been flagging, he’d told me that the spell would not leave permanent damage. But that it would leave a trace of itself.

  A bond. And that I might find that I would be unable to harm him should I ever wish to do so.

  “You didn’t just arrange Bendith’s death,” I said. “You arranged the whole damned thing from beginning to end.”

  Puck twinkled at me. “Of course I did. And let me tell you that it was no simple thing. I had to cull you away from your herd of merry men by sending you to Batarian’s world. I had to maneuver you into trusting me, into unleashing the dark power inside you. Without it you never would have been able to defeat Titania. I had to make sure that I left a mark on you so that you could not harm me. And I had to give Nathaniel and Bendith enough time to form a bond so that you would all chase after him if you thought he was kidnapped. So many pieces to arrange, but I must say that I am pleased with the way my jigsaw turned out.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. “So there never was a threat from the Cimice? Titania wasn’t going to unleash them on Chicago? You just put me there and told me that story so I would exercise a part of my power that I had never touched before?”

  “Yes, basically,” Puck said. “It was a pain to plant the Cimice there, too, with Lucifer’s thrice-bedamned portal restrictions.”

  “And Batarian’s fae?” I said. “What of them? Did you even care that they might suffer because you had put an alien species on their planet, in their forest?”

  “Oh, those fae were never there in the first place,” Puck said dismissively. “They used to be, long ago, but Lucifer killed them all. I simply summoned the memory of them to help convince you to take care of the Cimice. You do so seem to enjoy protecting innocents,” Puck said.

  I’d told Batarian that his people were nothing more than pawns on a chessboard. But I hadn’t realized just how right I was when I’d said that.

  “That means you sent that Cimice here to kill Jayne Wiskowski,” I said slowly, as I put the pieces together. “All this time, all along, you were leading me here, to this place, so that I would get rid of Titania for you? How dare you? How dare you?”

  “How dare I what?” Puck said, and the merriment vanished from this eyes. “Use you? I would have done anything if only it meant that I could be free of that witch. I suffered for centuries at her hand, treated like an inferior creature when my power was far greater than hers. When you appeared in court it was as if you had been sent to me by fate. I knew as soon as I saw you that you would be the one. Only you would have power enough to do it, and only you were human enough to be manipulated into place.”

  I turned furiously to Daharan, who still sat at the table, watching, saying nothing. “And what did you know of all this?”

  “I was not aware of all his machinations. But when Puck broke Lucifer’s decree and placed the Cimice on that planet, I went there to attempt to limit his mischief. I did not know he had drawn you into his web. When finally I did know, it was too late to stop it. Events had already been set in motion,” Daharan said. “I would not deliberately harm you, Madeline. You must believe that.”

  I did believe that. I knew it in my bones, because he couldn’t lie to me. But my anger surged and seethed inside me with no outlet. I wanted to destroy the one who had done this to me, but by his own prescient behavior I was unable to do so.

  I’d never before felt so impotent, so helpless. All along I’d thought I was doing the right thing. But I was nothing more than a pawn in Puck’s bid for freedom.

  I’d killed the High Queen of Faerie. I’d killed one of the oldest creatures in the universe, because I thought I was protecting the people of Chicago, because I thought I was protecting my child. But none of it had been real, and still the queen was dead.

  “Wait,” I said. “What else do you get, besides your freedom?”

  Puck smiled. “The throne of Faerie, of course. There will be challengers, but none that can match me in power.”

  “And then?” I asked, dreading the answer.

  “I will have an army, of course. I imagine I might need one someday,” Puck said.

  “To start a war with Lucifer?” I asked. “You had me take one of the most powerful pieces off the chessboard so that you would have an easier path to victory over your brother?”

  “Now, little Madeline. What fun is there for me if you know all my plans?” Puck said, and he touched the tip of my nose with his finger.

  The three Retrievers came to their feet and growled. Puck looked askance at the dogs.

  “I see you’ve obtained some new pets,” he said.

  “Yes” I said, enjoying his obvious discomfort. “And I bet that there would be no restriction on Lock, Stock or Barrel harming you, as there is on me.”

  Puck raised an eyebrow at the names. “It’s a good thing I have business elsewhere, then. Until we meet again, Madeline. Daharan.”

  Puck whirled in a dramatic little circle and disappeared.

  I considered calling him back with the jewel and setting the dogs on him just for the fun of it, but I didn’t.

  Although I wanted to. I really, really wanted to.

  I sat down in one of the dining room chairs. The dogs crowded around me, putting their muzzles in my lap. My baby fluttered gently inside my belly, as if he were pleased by the presence of the Retrievers.

  Daharan stood. “I imagine you do not wish to see me at this moment.”

  “You didn’t know everything,” I said. “But you knew some things. And you didn’t tell me.”

  “I have no children of my own. I wished to protect you,” Daharan said.

  “But you couldn’t,” I said sadly. “You didn’t.”

  “The apartment downstairs is empty. Do I have your permission to use it?”

  “Yes,” I said. “For now.”

  My uncle walked out of the front door without another word. I heard his footsteps softly creaking on the stairs.

  I rubbed the head of the first Retriever, the one I’d named Lock. “I hope that he doesn’t sleep in his dragon form. There isn’t enough room down there.”

  “Or enough fire extinguisher,” Beezle said from the hallway.

  Beezle and Nathaniel were there, both with identical expressions of worry on their faces.

  “How long have you been there?” I asked.

  “Long enough that you don’t have to give us a recap. We know all about the Puck manipulation thing and the killing of Titania thing and the rising of the dark inside you thing,” Beezle said. “Ooh, dinner!”

  He flew to the table and dove headfirst into the roast chicken.

  “I hope you weren’t hungry,” I said to Nathaniel.

  “Give her the thing,” Beezle said, his voice muffled because he was inside the chicken.

  “What thing?” I asked Nathaniel.

  He approached me cautiously, giving the Retrievers an unsure look. They lifted their heads and growled.

  “It’s okay,” I soothed. “He’s a friend. It’s okay.”

  Nathaniel continued toward me. I noticed he had a piece of paper in his grip. He handed it to me while Lock, Stock and Barrel gave him the beady eye.

  I unfolded the slip of paper. All it said was, “We know who you are, and we know where you are. We are watching.”

  I turned it over, hoping for something more. “Where was this?”

  “On the porch,” Nathaniel said. “Beezle seems to think it’s from someone named Jack.”

  Jack Dabrowski, the blogger who wanted me to be mayor, who wanted to broadcast my business on the Internet. Apparently I hadn’t done a good enough job of scaring him off.

  The Retrievers let Nathaniel put his hand on my shoulder. I covered his hand with my own and leaned my head back against his body.
r />   “Nathaniel,” I said. “You need to be careful. Puck killed Bendith to serve his own purpose. I don’t think he feels particularly warm toward his children.”

  “I know,” Nathaniel said. “But I am not in any more danger than you. Now that you have killed Titania, you will have many more enemies. You have established yourself as something to be feared, something to dread.”

  “I am something to be feared,” I said. “Puck made me this way. And Puck had better watch his ass.”

  Beezle stopped stuffing his face long enough to say, “I hope you’re not thinking of revenge. Because I think Puck has already proven that he’s much better at thinking long-term than you are.”

  Maybe Puck was better at strategic planning. I was more emotional, more spontaneous. But he had twisted me into this shape and used me like a weapon.

  There was no reason why that weapon should not, could not, turn on him.

  I smiled, thinking of Puck suffering at my hands.

  “Maddy?” Beezle said. “What are you thinking?”

  Inside me, the darkness smiled, too.

 

 

 


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