"I have no control over my son's actions," Oriellen snapped, and her hounds began to growl.
"Would you stoop so low as to kill your king?" Ceidrin asked softly. "It would only be worse for you if I die. Too many people know what you have done." When she did not reply, he continued, his voice mild. "I came for Edward, Elinor's brother Luka, and the hound called Ahlos, as well. Dierin's death is on your conscience, and you will be punished for it."
"If you die here, who will stop me from taking your crown?" Oriellen asked, her voice harsh. "No one!"
"I will stop you," a voice said from behind Ceidrin. He glanced back, not turning his back on Oriellen or her hounds, and saw Edward and an elf appear from around a corner with a boy--obviously Elinor's brother--unconscious between them. The elf left Edward to support Luka's weight and nodded to Ceidrin.
"I will stop you," he said again.
Oriellen's face underwent a very interesting change as the elf advanced past Ceidrin and closed in the distance between them. He had never seen her actually afraid of anything; she'd always treated the world as an irritation, not something to fear. But this elf awoke something inside of her that stripped her of all sense and left her with fury as her only recourse.
She sent the hounds to kill him, but the elf seemed to expect this. He shifted shape in one fluid moment, almost as if he'd been practicing, and tore into them, his fury no match for their might.
Over the sound of snapping teeth and growling hounds, Ceidrin met Oriellen's gaze. When the last hound fell, he heard Edward curse behind him, and without looking to see where he was, reached out to stop him from joining the fray.
"He took the dagger," Edward said as the hound--who had to be Ahlos--shifted shape again.
Ceidrin turned his back on both his Aunt and her former hound as the dagger flashed. He did not have to watch her die.
"Elinor's brother--is he wounded?" He could concentrate on that instead of wondering if he should have tried to stop Ahlos' revenge and keep Oriellen alive for some sort of sentencing.
"He--they gave him an overdose of some sort of drug," Edward said. "I'm not sure how sane he will be when he wakes up."
"He will have the best of care until he is well," Ceidrin said softly. "Elinor and the others will probably be here soon."
"And what would you like me to do with the prisoner?" Ahlos asked, appearing beside him with the dagger in his hand. He handed it back to Edward, hilt-first, then nodded back to the carnage. "I thought I wanted to kill her. But I think I would rather have the story told in full."
Ceidrin stared at him. "I was willing to give you her death," he said. "I could have tried to stop you."
"I know." Ahlos hesitated. "But there has been enough death, I think. I would rather see them punished."
"Your name is Ahlos," Ceidrin said.
"It--" Ahlos glanced at Edward, and almost smiled. "It didn't used to be. A long time ago, my name was Jeremin. I am Oriellen's brother." He let out his breath, then, one hand pressing against his stomach where Ceidrin could see fresh blood. "My sister found me dying and nursed me back to health. And then she bound my will and my--"
Ceidrin caught his arm as he staggered sideways, his face suddenly grey. "You'll have time to tell your story," he said. "All the time you need." Gently, he lowered Ahlos down to the ground. "Edward, would you mind checking to see if our cavalry has arrived? They may not know we're here--"
Almost before he finished speaking, Sennet appeared in the hallway, with Lucien, Gene, and Elinor close behind. Behind them were elves--a whole troop of soldiers who seemed quite relieved that he was still standing and not lying dead like the hounds or wounded like almost everyone else.
"Oriellen is to be taken back to the castle to answer the charges against her," he said before anyone could speak. "Sennet--there are wounded here--"
"I see that," Sennet said mildly as the elves rushed to obey his orders. "I'm glad to see you whole. I wasn't quite sure what we'd find here, so I brought some reinforcements."
"Thank you," Ceidrin said, his gaze on Gene, who seemed more angry than relieved. "Lucien, will you go back to the castle and explain to Mahalia what happened here?"
"I'm not sure I know what happened here," Lucien said, staring at the dead hounds. "Who is this?" He indicated Ahlos, frowning. "He looks familiar."
"All will be revealed," Ceidrin said. "In due time."
He left Elinor and Sennet to do what they did best, and walked past Edward to where Gene stood against the wall.
"You saved my life," he said as soon as he was close enough to speak without shouting.
The retort on Gene's lips melted away. "What? How could I save your life if I wasn't anywhere near here?" He had more to say--much more, knowing Gene--but Ceidrin placed one finger against his lips to silence him.
"You saved my life," he repeated. "However much I hate to admit it, I suppose cast iron does have its advantages."
It was a long-standing and very silly argument that Ceidrin had never once let him win--until now.
Gene grinned. "So I was right, then," he said, his anger--at least temporarily--forgotten.
Ceidrin rolled his eyes. "Yes. You were right."
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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Given the elves' love of stories, the entire sordid tale took almost two weeks to tell. Once the dam was broken, the secrets Meinren and Oriellen had kept hidden overflowed into many facets of the court itself, and they weren't the only ones punished for their involvement.
They were the only ones sentenced to death.
Later, after the tale was told, Sennet gifted Edward the use of a portal, and he slipped away with Rose, confident that no one would notice his absence. Ceidrin had a kingdom to run; Elinor had her brother to look after. Gene had decided to make the best of a difficult decision, and had overthrown the castle kitchen, much to the dismay of the cooks. Even Ahlos had been reinstated into his former life; while Ceidrin could not give him back the time he had lost, he made up for it by giving him a seat on the Council and a place to live.
Back home, Edward found the promise of spring in a carpet of early crocuses that pushed through the melting snow, their brightly colored flowers a wonderful harbinger of what was to come. Finding food to eat wasn't difficult once he remembered how to set traps, and there was plenty of greenery to forage from, including a few bulbs of wild garlic he found in the remnants of the garden.
Rose proved to be an adequate hunter herself, but sometimes, Edward found himself envying her as she stalked through the budding saplings in search of her supper.
He had not tried to shift shape since Oriellen had broken her curse.
A few weeks after he returned to the house, he awoke to find moonlight streaming in his bedroom window and Rose standing with her nose pressed against the glass, watching the moonlit forest outside. Edward joined her at the window, staring down at their stark and beautiful surroundings, and felt something half-familiar stir in his mind.
Not the curse, but the echo of what once was--the echo of a wolf.
Almost in a dream, he followed Rose down the stairs, and opened the front door. Barefoot, he stopped on the edge of the porch and shivered as a cold breeze--the last breath of winter?--blew across his face.
Rose whined, glancing up at him, her tail wagging. Want to run.
It had taken him only a week to teach her words instead of pictures.
"Me, too," Edward said, and sat on the steps beside her. "But I--I don't know if it will work." And what if shifting shape--if he still could--triggered the curse again? Was it broken forever?
Would it be so terrible if it were not?
He closed his eyes and felt tears slip down his cheeks. He had not allowed himself to grieve for his wolf form; that had seemed almost silly, grieving for a curse. But it had been a part of himself for so long that he felt a bit lost without it.
When he opened his eyes, he saw the world through the eyes of a wolf.
For a moment, Edward just sat there, stunned and confused, until Rose barked and bounded down the steps. Despite what his mind thought, his body knew what to do, and he joined her, glorying as they chased each other through the melting snow; actually having fun as he explored the edges of his land on four legs instead of two.
When they returned to the house, he saw Elinor sitting on the porch, waiting for him.
She stood up as they approached, and almost dropped the basket she carried. "Oh--"
Edward shifted shape before she could finish her sentence. "It's okay," he said. "The curse is still broken."
"But you're still a wolf," Elinor said. "I don't understand."
"I chose this," Edward said, and knew that to be true. "There are certain--advantages I'm not willing to give up." He smiled at her, and after a moment, she smiled back. "What brings you here?"
"I wasn't sure your wards would let me inside," Elinor said. "And I'm sorry I didn't try to visit until now. Gene sent me with a basket of food, and Ceidrin said you can't stay away forever."
"I thought it was time to go home," Edward said. "But I don't intend to stay away forever. How is your brother?"
He hadn't really considered going back, but Elinor didn't need to know that.
"He--he woke up yesterday," Elinor said. "And he talked. He talked quite a bit, actually. Meinren killed Isobel with the same drug he gave Luka. My brother tried to stop him, and--" She shrugged. "That's how he came to be in Oriellen's dungeons."
"And will he recover?" Edward asked.
"It will take time," Elinor replied. "And I didn't come here to talk about my brother, Edward. I--" She frowned. "You're barefoot."
"It seems to be a failing of mine; finding shoes," Edward said. "Would you like to come inside?"
"I wondered if I could help with that," Elinor said, ignoring his question. "I've decided to sell my father's house, you see, and my mother wasn't badly off, either--and you'll need some help getting used to the modern world."
Despite the fact that Elinor was the one offering the help, Edward felt that old distrust raise its head again. "And you're offering me this in exchange for what?" he asked.
Elinor bit her lip. "Sennet said that I need some help with wards," she said. "She said that I have the talent, but not the training. I thought--if you agreed, of course--that you might be able to--to teach me?"
"Well." Edward touched the porch railing and felt the wards that kept the world from invading his home pulse through it. "I suppose--I suppose we could teach each other. And my house could use a new roof."
Elinor grinned. "And you won't stay away from Faerie? Ceidrin said you're always welcome."
That was a bit more difficult, but why should he shut everyone out? "I won't stay away forever," he said. "Maybe--maybe Rose and I will come back with you for a little while. I have something I want to give to Ceidrin."
That something was his mother's sword, long unused and almost forgotten. It deserved to return to its original home, in the place where it had been given to a princess who had then cast it and everything it stood for aside.
Edward could not fault his mother for abandoning her duties for the love of his father. But he'd wondered--especially now--if she had ever wished that things had turned out differently.
"Would you like to come inside?" he asked again.
"I would love to come inside," Elinor said, and followed him through the door.
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About The Author
Jennifer St. Clair grew up in Southern Ohio and spent most of her childhood in the woods around her home. She wrote her first novel when she was thirteen, and hasn't stopped since. She lives with her cats and dog in a big old house full of interesting things.
In her spare time, she crochets, makes cloth dolls, collects antiques, books, and vintage clothing, and weaves.
Keep track of Jennifer's numerous other books on her author page:
http://www.readerseden.com/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=225
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