Blood Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City

by M. J. Scott

  “Ladies first,” Guy said, jerking his head toward the tower.

  I stared at it for a minute longer. The Gate. Inside those walls was the way to the Veiled World. The way to Cormen. To Mama and Reggie.

  I should be sprinting toward the doors, but I also knew that beyond that door lay the end of anything between Guy and me.

  A deep price but one I had brought upon myself. I took a breath and walked toward the tower.

  * * *

  My pendant won us admittance through the first door and we were ushered into a round marble chamber, relieved of our weapons, and given tea. Neither of us drank.

  I didn’t trust myself to be able to swallow. I had agreed to the humans’ plan, but now that we were here, my doubts were growing. If we actually went to Cormen, then we would be at a severe disadvantage. I would have to tell him Simon’s secret. Guy was relying, as far as I could tell, on being able to overpower him and get him to the queen.

  I gathered Bryony had provided some sort of charm to facilitate that part, but that didn’t change the fact that Cormen would be in possession of Simon’s secret. Or that he could be somewhere well protected.

  Surely there was another way? One I hadn’t thought of. Something teased the edge of my memory . . . something my father had told me once when I’d been small and he’d entertained me with tales of the wonders of the court. But no, it refused to emerge.

  Eventually one of the three doors in the walls opened and a Fae woman came toward us. She wore layers of white and silver, her robes flowing around her like a snowstorm. Her hair was silver too. True silver. I rose and curtseyed. Guy followed my lead and bowed.

  “I am the Seneschal,” she said, looking at us with disdain. “What business do you bring to the Veiled Court?”

  “We seek Cormen sa’Inviel’astar,” Guy said before I could speak.

  “Has he summoned you?”

  “Yes,” Guy said.

  The Seneschal still looked skeptical. She glanced back over her shoulder toward the door.

  A door. Memory suddenly cooperated.

  “We seek the queen,” I blurted.

  Guy’s mouth opened. “What—”

  “Be quiet, Guy.” I looked only at the Seneschal. “We seek the queen.”

  “The Veiled Queen does not speak to hai’salai.” The Seneschal’s tone was icy.

  “Holly—” Guy said.

  “No.” The Seneschal cut him off with a gesture. “If you wish to speak, hai’salai, you may appeal to your . . . connections. Perhaps one of them will speak for you.”

  I straightened, knowing what I had to do, preparing myself for what reaction the geas might have. “No. I do not need anyone to speak for me. I will see the queen. I choose the Door.”

  The Seneschal blinked. “You—”

  “Yes,” I said firmly. “Me. Or rather, we. We have that right, don’t we? To win an audience?”

  The silver head bowed. “Yes. The right exists. You have chosen. Very well.” She clapped her hands suddenly. “It is late. You will be shown to a supplicant’s chamber. The trial will start at sunrise.”

  Late? Sunrise? When we’d walked into the tower, it had been a little past noon. Only a few minutes had passed since then. Or had they?

  Damned Fae magic. Time moved differently under the hills. I should have remembered that. Perhaps it did in the Gate too. Without windows, there was no way of telling.

  “What the hell are you doing? What the hell is the Door?” Guy demanded as the door to our chamber shut behind us.

  We’d been escorted here by a stony-faced Fae man who’d instructed us curtly to bathe before sunrise and don the white Fae robes he gave us before he left.

  “A way for us to get what we came for,” I said, still not quite believing what I’d done. I prowled around the room, still feeling the tug of the geas. So far it hadn’t wakened any further. Maybe my gamble had paid off.

  The room was not large enough for me to be able to prowl too far. There was one large bed, two chairs, and a table. All beautifully carved from gleaming dark wood. Rich blue tapestries lined the walls, and darker shades were echoed in the rugs. The effect against the marble walls was cold rather than welcoming.

  “The plan was to get to Cormen,” Guy said. “So give me one good reason why I should do this instead?”

  “The Door is a loophole,” I said.

  His eyes narrowed. “That’s hardly an explanation.”

  I sighed. “Guy, if I go to Cormen, then I’ll have to tell him Simon’s secret. The geas will make sure of that. But the Door is a greater magic. It’s the queen’s magic. If you choose the Door, then you are bound to that choice. These chambers are built to stop supplicants from changing their minds. The geas won’t be able stop me.” Cormen’s tales of the Door had been clear on the powers of the Door and the fact that you couldn’t change your mind.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “So far I’m still standing.” Truth be told, I hadn’t been sure. But I had no urge to throw open the door and run to my father immediately. My gamble seemed to have paid off.

  “That still doesn’t explain the Door.”

  “The queen can refuse an audience. But she can’t refuse the right to stand before her.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I barely understood it myself. But it was one of the parts of Fae lore that Cormen had taught me. Long ago when I was small and amusing and he was still playing the loving father. When I had believed that one day I might join him there.

  Well, now I would. But hardly in the way I’d imagined back then. I doubted he’d imagined it either. I hoped he would enjoy it even less than I would.

  I walked to the window, gestured out at the night sky. “The land under the hills, the Veiled World and the court, are . . . alive. The Fae magic is tied to it. It’s what makes it so dangerous. The landscapes shift to the will of the Fae, but they also shift on their own.”

  “I know that much. That’s why it’s night here but still day back in the City.”

  “Yes. The land has a mind of its own. And Fae lore says that if the land will let you get to the queen, she cannot turn you away. She has to hear what you have to say.”

  “I see.” Guy’s voice was tight. “And the Door?”

  “The Door, supposedly, is a path directly to the queen’s throne. But the journey is different for everyone. And not everyone makes it through.”

  Guy shook his head. “You can’t do that.”

  “I have to. There’s no other way.” I sat on the bed, curling my legs up beneath me. I wasn’t sure I could stand now that I was thinking about what I had committed myself to doing. I could die tomorrow. The Veiled Court could swallow me up and no one would ever see me again.

  It was Guy’s turn to prowl the chamber now. Anger swirled around him. When he finally stilled, his face was thunderous. “No. You can’t do it. It’s not safe. Besides, how does getting to the queen help you? We can’t tell the queen about Simon.”

  His voice sounded strained. He was more like his brother than he realized, this man. He too wanted to save people, to keep them safe. Even when he thought he hated them as he did me.

  “No. And I won’t have to, I hope. Cormen phrased the geas so that I could only tell him. But we can tell her that he’s working with Ignatius. We can warn her. And we can tell her that Cormen kidnapped my mother. You can tell her he laid a geas on me. Those things are illegal under the treaties. I’m not full Fae and my mother is human. She’ll have to call him to account.”

  “We don’t have proof of that.”

  “Ignatius recognized my pendant. He talked about the evening star. He told me that Cormen had already sent his regrets. The queen can read that memory from me. It’s enough to make her suspect him. It’s a better plan, Guy. It’s a better chance. Less risk that we have to tell anyone about Simon. I have to do this or the geas . . . I can’t trust myself with it. Not here. But the court, in the queen’s presence. She can control me, if she
has to.” I rose on my knees on the bed wondering if I should go to him. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  He shook his head, holding up one hand to cut me off before I could go any further in my protests. Relief welled through me. I didn’t want to do this alone. It was unsafe, yes. Deadly even. I needed him by my side. More than that, I wanted him by my side. My knight. One last time.

  “I’ve come this far,” he said. “I won’t leave you to do this alone now.”

  In the strange light, the beasts on his hands seemed to flicker and move. I told myself it was a trick of the Fae lights. I hoped it was. Those tattoos bore testament to just how much he had done for me. Thrown his reputation in the gutter for me to walk across. People thought he’d been thrown out of the order he’d given his life to.

  No doubt, even some of the brothers believed it. That would leave scars, even after the truth came out. That they had so little faith in him, when he’d given his life to the Templars, would hurt.

  And I’d betrayed him too. Yet here he was, prepared to lay down even more.

  Or maybe he didn’t care what happened. Maybe we’d pushed him too far. He was at war with his brother, with his order, with me. Every man has a breaking point.

  This thought drove me from the bed. I crossed the room, then stopped before I reached him. I had no right to do anything to comfort him. Nor was it likely that he would accept it.

  “Don’t you do anything foolish,” I warned. He stared at me, mouth curving for a moment as if he couldn’t believe I was the one warning him when I’d led him here.

  “Anything extra foolish,” I added. “Don’t you go all knight-in-shining-armor on me unless it’s absolutely necessary. This isn’t the City. Your rules don’t apply.”

  “My rules stopped applying about the time that you fell off that roof,” he muttered.

  Mine too. I didn’t say it. What I had to do would be hard enough to face without actually speaking what was in my heart. Because I’d ruined what was between us. I’d broken it. What right did I have to try and mend things? To ask even more of him? A Night Worlder spy had no place in a Templar’s life. I should stay silent, leave him free to walk away from me.

  The thought made my heart catch and tear.

  So I had to think about something else.

  But I couldn’t. It was if all I could see was the man before me. The man I’d lost.

  I blinked back tears.

  “Holly, don’t,” he said softly.

  I turned away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” The words were muffled, the same words I’d already offered to him. He had no reason to forgive me.

  “Holly, I can’t—” his voice rasped.

  I turned, smiled at him through the tears, seeing his face, those blue, blue eyes waver and blur. “I know. You don’t have to.” I walked closer, reached up, let myself touch his face one last time. “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  “Damn it to hell.” He stared down at me, then hauled me to him and kissed me. Kissed me hard enough to make my head spin and my heart pound. Kissed me with a mouth that tasted of regret. Of good-bye. Of longing.

  Then he let me go. Stepped back. “Rest now,” he said. “I’ll watch over you.”

  * * *

  Cormen had told me about the court. About the Door. But hearing about it wasn’t the same as standing in front of it. A twenty-foot-high shining expanse of black metal. It bore no ornamentation, nothing to distract from its size. Almost unbearable in its purity of line. I could see my reflection, pale and nervous, as I wondered if everything I’d heard was true.

  Not all who entered the Veiled Court left it. It was the heart of the Veiled World, most dangerous of all the Fae realms. The seat of the queen’s power.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Guy asked. He looked once more to where the Seneschal and two attendants stood by the far more normal door we’d entered this chamber by.

  “What choice do I have?” I met Guy’s eyes, but there was nothing more to say. Now it was time to do what I had come to do. Save my mother. Save Reggie. Save the City.

  Destroy my father.

  I nodded at the Seneschal and she lifted a hand. The vast doors swung inward soundlessly to reveal . . . nothing. A gaping darkness. Well, then, apparently this was the first test. Was I brave enough to step into that nothingness? It wasn’t a peaceful dark. No . . . it felt menacing. My stomach knotted tighter, though a minute earlier I wouldn’t have thought that possible.

  But if I faltered now, all would be for nothing. My mother would die, Cormen would win, and who knew what chaos might be unleashed on the City? Someone had to try and stop it. Apparently that someone was me.

  I squared my shoulders, allowed myself one last look at Guy in case I was swallowed by the darkness, and stepped through the Door.

  The darkness was cold. A chill that sank into the bone, pain so sharp it felt as though I might shatter.

  Sweet Lady, did it hurt this way every time someone entered the court? Or was it because I was half-blood? I had a moment’s panicked thought that I should go back, warn Guy. If it hurt this badly for me, what might it do to a human? But the blackness behind me felt suddenly solid, bricks of night forming a barrier to bar my retreat.

  The cold intensified as I struggled for each step forward until I was sure my lungs would shatter—breaking to frozen shards. The cold bit at my skin, my eyes, my mouth, slicing at me until I was sure I must be bleeding.

  You knew it wouldn’t be easy, Holly girl.

  But I hadn’t expected this. Not endless darkness and pain. I’d thought to face a wilderness perhaps, or a desert blocking my path. Not this horrifying absence of anything alive.

  It felt almost as though I’d died already. Only the pain convinced me otherwise as I fought to keep moving. The chill sank deeper into my bones, the pain growing until it was all I knew and I couldn’t tell if I was even still walking. Everything hurt. Every part of me. All my instincts told me to stop. To lie down. To do whatever it took to make the pain leave. Instead, I summoned the faces of my mother and Reggie, summoned the image of Guy standing behind me, and took one last step.

  Pain speared me again, tearing at me, and I screamed. But then, in the next breath, the aching chill was gone and I stood in the light.

  It took a moment to take it in: a moment mostly filled with attempting to convince my lungs that taking another breath wouldn’t kill me. I stood in the middle of a vast marble floor, pure white with veins of black that seemed to shift as I watched. The space was empty. Above me a night sky glittered with stars. Not sunrise, even though moments earlier dawn had been breaking as the Seneschal led us to the Door.

  The stars were none that I recognized, but then again, the City was hardly a good place for stargazing. The smoke of the factories and houses and railways obscured the night sky.

  Despite the sky, there was light around me, as though I stood in bright sunshine. The contrast between the sky and the light made me queasy. But not as much as looking into the distance did. My brain couldn’t judge how far the marble reached, but it was a square despite its immeasurable size.

  Each edge bled into a different scene. To my right a forest even older and wilder looking than Summerdale’s. To my left, an ocean. Behind me, I realized suddenly there was an equal vastness, though I had yet to take a step. At the edge of that was a mountain range, snowcapped and forbidding.

  I turned back. In front of me, there was a garden, a vast lawn surrounded by hedges and rioting flower beds filled with flowers I didn’t recognize. At the far edge of the lawn was a building. Marble steps and pillars and a pointed roof. I walked toward it, my feet soundless in the grass, until I reached the top of the steps. A huge expanse of white marble lay before me. A chair carved from black stone, delicate and airy, stood in the middle floor.

  A throne.

  Her throne.

  Shit.

  Suddenly I wanted to be back in the antechamber with Guy, to take his
hand and run. But when I turned, there was no exit. No hint of walls and doors or forbidding darkness. No sign of Guy either, for that matter. If I was going to get out of here, then I needed to approach that throne and hope like hell its owner would appear to hear me. I’d made it this far. That had to be a good sign, surely? I steeled myself and took a step forward.

  I had taken maybe ten more steps when I realized that there was someone walking toward me. I froze but the figure kept coming.

  It was her. The Veiled Queen. As she walked, her robes moved and fluttered, a shifting mass of color. I couldn’t see her face because her head was veiled, as it always would be in the court. The veils moved too, though in a subtly different pattern from the robes, as if a different force moved them. As they rose and fell they seemed sheer. Not enough to hide anything behind them, but nothing could be made of her face but the veils.

  I’d done it. The Door—the land—had let me through.

  It seemed too fast.

  Too easy.

  I tried not to give in to the sudden sickening fear as I watched her approach.

  At least there was no hint of black in the colors dancing around her. If the Veiled Queen wore black, someone was going to die. That was another part of Fae lore I knew very well. One I’d heard from other sources besides Cormen. All the tales agreed. Black meant death.

  I sank to my knees as she approached, bowing my head.

  I couldn’t hear footsteps, but the soft rustling of fabric warned me when she was close.

  “Who seeks me?” she said. The voice was cool and light, beautiful as Fae voices tended to be. Neutral, or so I tried to tell myself.

  “My name is Holly Evendale, Lady,” I said, hoping my own voice wouldn’t betray me.

  “Evendale?” She sounded puzzled, but I didn’t lift my head. One didn’t look upon the queen until she had given permission. “Ah. I see. The evening sky about the hills.”

  “Yes, Lady.”

  “I didn’t know that sa’Inviel had acknowledged any by-blows,” she said smoothly. “Or invited them to court.”

  “I am not here under sa’Inviel’s aegis, Lady,” I said.

  “Oh?” The rustling increased and I tried not to picture robes and veils moving with greater agitation. Or darkening. “Then why are you here? Look at me,” she added impatiently.