by Allison Pang
My breathing went shallow, the rise and fall of my chest echoed in the hammering of my heart. Dimly I reached for the training Brystion’s sister, Sonja, had started with me, trying to find the last bit of calm to gather my power around me and consciously control the Dreaming.
Shield . . .
I imagined a white light, fitting it to my skin and pushing out. Something scraped my calf and I bit back a whimper, the hot warmth of my blood spilling into the stinging sea.
Don’t move . . .
Push. Push. Push.
I got a basic handle on it, finally opening my eyes to find myself glowing, the edges of my shield a few inches away from my body. It was enough.
I stifled a scream as the first shark rolled past me, its tail propelling its massive form with a slow ease. No rushing in for the kill yet.
The bells in my hair chimed mockingly. What are you afraid of? You died. What could possibly frighten you here?
Get over yourself.
The thought splashed over me even as anger flooded my limbs. It was right.
Was I simply a hapless dreamer?
“No,” I whispered. “No.” I was a KeyStone. TouchStone to the King of the Unseelie Court. Daughter of True Thomas. I’d worn the Key to the CrossRoads. I’d made a deal with the devil and come back from the dead.
I was a motherfucking Dreamer.
The power exploded from me in a heated shimmer, white flame pushing away the darkness, the thick sense of nothingness enveloping me against the glare. For a moment I caught the slivered edge of a dorsal fin slicing past me and then it skittered away into the void.
A momentary thrill of victory swelled my chest as I realized I’d actually managed to thrust my nightmares into some far distant corner. Not defeated, of course. I wasn’t sure if the darkness that lingered in my psyche would ever truly be lifted . . . but this was a start.
What had Sonja told me that one time?
You limit yourself to your own sense of physics.
The bells sounded a soft ring of agreement and I scowled at them, the shield settling into a slightly less obnoxious glow.
“Float,” I commanded, watching as it became more of a sphere. I shrugged at myself. Glinda the Good Witch it would have to be. Abruptly, the water around me receded and the bubble propelled itself upward. My hands stretched out as though to lean against the curved walls, but I hesitated, unsure if it would pop should I touch it.
Which was ridiculous since I was standing on the thing. I let my fingers slide against the surface of the shield, a thrum of power racing up my palms to my elbow.
A tingle pulsed in my chest. Home.
The bubble shifted direction, leaving the cold blackness of the sea behind it. I’d traveled this way once before, only Brystion had been the one to create and control it. The memory of it clung to me in an unsubtle reminder of what had happened next, the way our lives had entwined and the betrayal afterward.
And still. Where had he gone?
Beneath me, the sea faded away. The sharks did not make another appearance, but I kept a watchful eye anyway. I had my momentum; I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get it again if I let my defenses drop.
Where was the Heart of my Dreaming? I peered into the darkness, straining to see the shadow of the old Victorian, the iron gate around it, but in the end there was nothing but fog. I hesitated, not wanting to press my luck too far. Sonja had told me I had the power to be a DreamWalker during our training, and Ion had actually shown me the Dreaming Hearts of others, but the last thing I wanted was to stumble into someone else’s dreams.
Not like this.
On the other hand, I didn’t want to wander around in this void for too much longer. And if I stumbled across the CrossRoads? An uncomfortable twist roiled in my gut. Would the Queen’s geas apply even here? This was not the time to find out. Besides, even if I could make it to the CrossRoads from here, my body would still be in Faerie. Without Ion or Sonja to help me back to the Dreaming, my physical body would die.
I didn’t want to do that again either.
“A few more minutes and I’ll try to wake up,” I told myself. Worry niggled at me. Where the hell was my Heart? I’d always been able to find it before.
The mist began to dissipate as my brow furrowed and I realized I was standing in the burned-out remains of a forest. Charred and blackened bark peeled away from a crumpled willow tree, its leaves nothing more than tattered bits.
I stared at it. I knew this tree. This was my tree. From my garden behind my . . . house. I stood up with a jerk, pacing away from the fallen giant. My foot scraped against concrete. I knelt and the shield faded, taking away most of the light. I’d have been more concerned about that, but my attention was on the bricks I’d stumbled upon. The foundation.
My fingers traced a circle in the soot. The house at the center of my Dreaming Heart had burned too. What the hell had happened?
A lump formed in my throat. All those memories . . . but they were my memories. I could remake this place.
Assuming there was enough of it left to respond.
“What now?” My voice sounded hollow in my ears. If I was expecting an answer from Ion’s bells, it wasn’t forthcoming.
“Abby?”
I startled, rising to my feet to see Sonja standing there. Her eyes were wide with confusion, her bloodred wings arching protectively behind her.
“Sonja. What happened here?”
The succubus lowered her wings, still staring. “We thought you were dead. That Maurice had killed you.”
I snorted. “He did. I managed to bounce back. I’m lucky like that.”
She let out a sob. “Oh gods, Abby. When we heard the news—”
“Where’s Ion?” I cut off her rambling. It wasn’t like the succubus to be so hesitant. “What the hell happened to my Heart?”
She blinked at me. “You died. When a mortal dies, their Dreaming Heart is extinguished. You were gone.”
“Well, I’m here now,” I said dryly. “More or less.”
She grasped my hands as though she didn’t quite believe it. “You have to come to Portsmyth. Right now.”
“I can’t. The Queen laid a geas on me. I can’t leave Faerie at all.” I let out a bitter chuckle. “And, of course, it gets even more complicated than that, but I’m working on it. Talivar too.” I decided I didn’t want to go into the handfasting thing just yet. “What about Ion? Something . . . happened . . . didn’t it?” I pulled the bells from my hair. “And I was left with this. I thought I’d killed him somehow.”
She shook her head, her gaze drawn to the bells. “No. He’s not dead, but he’s changed . . . I’ve been coming here the last few nights to try to find out the truth, but when I saw that your Heart was nothing more than a husk, I feared the worst.”
“Changed how? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
A soft sigh escaped the succubus. “It would be better if you could see it for yourself. He is all right for now, but . . .”
“Why can’t he come meet me here?” I nodded at the ruined foundation. “Surely that would be easier? I’ll wait.”
A sad smile flickered over her face. “He’s not the same man he was, Abby. He can no longer find his way to your Heart.”
“He what?” The idea was incomprehensible. “That makes no sense. He’s an incubus. He was born of the Dreaming. Hell, he lived here for—what—a year?”
She gave me a wry look. “I’m not entirely sure of the details. You know how stubborn he is—he won’t tell me what he tried to do.”
I rolled the bells in between my fingers. “He tried to rescue me,” I said hoarsely. “I was supposed to bring him back with me to the palace through the Dreaming . . . but something must have gone wrong.”
“I’ll say,” she muttered. “I’m going to find him and let him know you’re okay. That should calm him down some and we’ll see what we can do about breaking your geas. There’s nearly always a loophole to these things.”
“Talivar didn’t think so.”
“I’m a daemon, Abby. Believe me, there’s always a way.” Her smile became a bit more feral and predatory than I liked, a subtle reminder that she wasn’t always the nicest of creatures. Which reminded me . . .
“Oh. Um. This is going to sound sort of odd, but when I died, I bumped into Topher. He had a message for you.”
The blood drained from her face. “What did he say?”
“Well, the long and short of it is that he admits the punishment you administered was fair.” I shuddered, not really wanting to remember it. “But he said he left something for you. He said you would know where.”
Her lip curled. “If you were not my friend I would kill you for telling me that.” The anger drained from her as she looked about my Dreaming Heart. “But you did die . . . and you couldn’t possibly have known.”
“Do you know what he meant?”
“Yes. It can rot, along with him.” She whirled savagely away from me. “I will meet you in the Barras tomorrow and we’ll see what can be done.”
Her wings unfolded with a violent crack, propelling her upward and into the darkness. I caught a flicker of silver in the distance that might have been the CrossRoads, but it was gone before I could really tell.
Still reeling from the news of Brystion’s inability to come here, I sank to my knees, my fingers trailing in the dried-out leaves. Pissing off his sister hadn’t been high on my to-do list, but at least I was a little closer to answers and a plan. Knowing that the others would be made aware of my plight made me grateful and a little less alone, and that was far more comfort than I’d expected.
As for this place . . .
I glanced about at the ruins. “Might as well get started.” My hands dug into the dirt, and I closed my eyes, commanding the Dreaming to bend to my will. Grass . . . trees . . . the moon? The power drifted through me, the bells in my hands seeming to chime in approval. Odd how much easier it seemed this time.
The scent of something green filled my nose and I concentrated harder. When I had first arrived here last year, everything had been in place. The house, the forest, the sea . . . all of it built in my subconscious through all the years of my life. Memories upon memories.
I didn’t want to try to re-create that now, but at the very least I could make it more pleasant than the char it currently was.
A cool softness burst beneath my feet and tickled my palms. A cricket chirped beside me, the insectoid violinist making me smile. Silver-bladed glass gleamed in the moonlight, growing over the foundation of the house, cloaking the ugliness in greenery.
Saplings thrust up from the ground, and the air was filled with tiny seedlings, white puffballs of potential, sifting through the night sky. At least I could do this much.
“Good enough,” I muttered, rolling onto my back to gaze up at the moon. The little details could come later. “Time to wake up.”
“Abby.” Talivar’s voice murmured to me in the darkness.
“I’m awake. I think.” I rolled onto my side to see him sprawled out beside me, the last of the candle guttering on the table. The dull thrum of the music no longer vibrated through the ground so I could only guess that the festivities were over. The noisy part, anyway.
“You disappeared.” His words weren’t a true accusation as much as a statement of fact, but there was hurt behind it anyway.
“I didn’t want to be a distraction.” I paused. “Your Majesty.”
He grimaced, his head flopping onto his hands. “I’ve been avoiding that particular title for longer than I care to say.”
“So why now? And why didn’t you tell me?”
“I hadn’t planned on it,” he said after a moment. “But it seemed like a good idea at the time.” He cupped my cheek. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all just politics.”
I snorted. “Is it?”
“Well, not all of it.” His mouth met mine for an instant. “Not this part.”
He shifted so that he was lying on top of me, the warmth of his body flooding my limbs. I didn’t really think about it as I kissed him, a sudden need to be wanted filling me with a terrible desire.
And yet . . .
“Brystion,” I whispered. “He’s alive. Sonja told me. I met her, in the Dreaming.”
He pulled back, his gaze unreadable. “A bit unromantic to bring him into our marital bed, don’t you think?”
I turned away from him. “Maybe. But, Talivar . . . I don’t think I can be your Queen. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
A low chuckle escaped him. “I know. Which is why I’ve only declared you my TouchStoned consort at the moment. The handfasting is sufficient. No one would be surprised if I took a while to find a Queen, given the circumstances.” His mouth twisted wryly. “And quite frankly, I’ve other things on my mind at the moment.”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “I am more than willing to share you—rather than lose you completely.”
But would Brystion agree to that?
My inner voice remained silent. Hell, I didn’t even know if I could agree to that. Once again, circumstances beyond my control were sweeping past me, and far too quickly than I liked.
I went silent, allowing him to pull me into his arms. His hand stroked my hair.
“Does this concept displease you so? What is it you want, Abby?”
“I wish I knew,” I muttered. “I could do the clichéd thing and mention how I want my old life back, but I suspect it’s long gone . . .” I shook my head. “I need to know who you are, Talivar. I know the you that I lived with for so long, but this other side of you? The royal side? Ever since we came into Faerie there’s been a stranger in your skin.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as he stiffened. “One minute you’re all full of secrets and then I look at your eyes and I’m back teaching you the Hustle on a Saturday night at the Hallows. I can’t make the two fit together. I’m letting you manipulate my destiny for a chance at escape, but that’s not what I want. For either of us.”
The prince sighed and held me a little tighter. For a few minutes I didn’t think I was going to get an answer. Finally he shook himself and got to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“It’s a little late, isn’t it?” I took his proffered hand anyway, my bad knee cracking slightly as he pulled me toward him.
He smirked. “It’s good to be the King.”
“Someone’s been watching too many movies,” I said dryly, but I made no protest when he slipped his cloak over my shoulders.
“Ah well. They haven’t thought to start posting guards around me yet, so we don’t have to do anything drastic for a night out.” He took my hand and the two of us emerged from the tent into a quiet row. “Not that sneaking around isn’t fun,” he murmured, leading me through a winding path between the tents and away from the Barras proper.
Here and there I caught the low sound of music and the muffled clink of glasses, indicating the celebrating was still going on. I felt a guilty twinge. I was taking him away from this. It seemed rather selfish of me.
A high-pitched cry of pleasure rose and fell from a nearby tent. I flushed hotly despite myself when Talivar squeezed my hand, but couldn’t bring myself to look at him. We’d made love only once—but even that had been under some rather awkward circumstances.
It had, however, involved a hot spring And I wouldn’t have minded revisiting that particular scenario.
Beside me, Talivar let out a snort, but he said nothing else until we were past the makeshift paddock filled with drowsing horses. The prince glanced down at me, the remains of the flickering torchlight illuminating part of his face.
“Kitsune and I are cousins, you know. Distant ones, to be sure, but our bloodlines do share a commonality, through my father’s family.”
“The same father who had you crippled?” I said it bluntly. Hell, there was no point in dancing around the subject at this point. Besides, we were married.
He ga
ve me a strained smile and started walking again and we began to climb the soft grass of the steep hillside beside the encampment. “Aye. My mother couldn’t stand it, knowing that Unseelie filth ran through my veins . . . even if it didn’t really show, save for the facial hair.” His mouth pursed. “But my father’s beard never seemed to bother her when he had it, so who knows?”
“She’s a woman of . . . peculiar appetites.”
Which was putting it mildly. She was batshit crazy.
He shrugged, limping slightly as we crested the hill, the two of us sagging to rest on a fallen log. Below us, the lights of the Barras twinkled merrily, shadows dancing around the center with ragged fluidity. Talivar stared down at this, his face lost in thought for a moment.
“I told you I had that tunnel made in my garden so that I could court the village girls.” A smile touched his lips. “Partially true. When I was younger, I tended to be more bold about my exploits. The Unseelie Court was different and exciting, compared to my own.”
I snorted. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I’ve seen it, remember?” If I’d had to live in the palace on a permanent basis I’d have gnawed my own feet off to get away. I didn’t mention this aloud, but he raised his brow at me anyway. I coughed and he chuckled.
“My family’s differences aside, I was very fond the Unseelie Court. Kitsune and I became quite close. Not romantically so; she was more like a sister than anything else. It was tolerated on both sides for a while, perhaps simply to foster goodwill between the two kingdoms.”
“But . . . ?” I nudged him with a gentle elbow.
The words drummed out in a monotonic flatness. “I was caught courting an Unseelie maiden. That was considered a problem, at least for my mother.”
“They asked you to stay away and you didn’t?” My heart ached for the boy he had been.
“Why would I? The threats were always hollow . . . and even if I occasionally gave in to them, the night would come when the moon would be out and the summer winds sang a heat into my blood that bade me to creep from my window to see her.”