A Trace of Moonlight

by Allison Pang

  Ten minutes later found me finally clothed in the low-slung pants, a loose top, and a bodice that was a tad tight for my liking, but it would do well enough. At least I didn’t have to deal with skirts; that was a small miracle in itself.

  “You’re tense,” Talivar observed.

  I bit my lip. “What happens if I don’t fill the Tithe? Does that mean someone else has to go in my place? Some random mortal the Queen accidentally picks up?” I supposed there were people I wouldn’t mind being sacrificed too much, but I couldn’t make that judgment call.

  His mouth became grim. “If we cannot find a mortal, then we must sacrifice seven of our own people. Faery souls are apparently not as valuable.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve been so focused on getting myself out of this mess that I didn’t even think about what would happen if I actually succeeded.”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders. “This isn’t for you to decide, Abby. I will not lose you again . . . not even to your own sense of nobility.”

  “But I made the deal with Nobu. I offered myself up—should someone else pay for that?”

  “You made the bargain with Nobu, true—but the Queen is the one who agreed to the Tithe to begin with. It was her . . . weakness that allowed the daemons to get as much of a foothold as they did. It is on her head to find a solution to this.”

  I let out a humorless chuckle. “Because that’s worked out so damn well thus far. Besides, you and I both know her solution is to find me and force me into the being the Tithe anyway, so where does that get us?”

  “Touché,” Phineas murmured at our feet. “Speaking of which, I’m assuming that’s what the liaison wanted to talk to you about?”

  “Something like that,” the prince said dryly. “The Seelie Court isn’t willing to recognize my claim yet, but they don’t actually have much choice in the matter, and Kitsune refused to have anything to do with their envoy without me there. I was actually on my way to meet with him—and I thought Abby should come. After all, it concerns her too.” He squeezed my hand gently, slipping his fingers between mine. “I would not deliberately keep such secrets from you.”

  The thought warmed me despite the way my heart beat faster. Such a coward, I chided myself.

  The three of us wended through the Barras. Things had picked up and the usual crowds were building in a brilliant cacophony of sound. Polite nods were offered to Phin and me as we walked past, but it seemed less than I would have expected, considering Talivar was their new liege.

  “Under new management,” I muttered.

  Talivar shot me an amused glance. “It may take a while for people to get used to the idea. I’m not in a particular rush to formalize things.”

  “Do we know who the liaison is?” Not that I had influence with any of them, but if I knew who it was, I could at least attempt to tailor my response accordingly. With all the time I’d spent in the Court, I knew a few individuals who weren’t too bad, even if the rest were stuffy-assed prigs.

  Talivar let out a grunt. “It’s the Steward.”

  I frowned, my footsteps slowing. “My father is here?”

  I’d barely seen him since I drank the lethe—and certainly not in any official capacity, though I began to wonder if that was more the Queen’s doing or if he’d avoided me to spare me her wrath.

  I stifled a snort. If so, that hadn’t worked out too well.

  “It makes sense.” Talivar gave my hand a squeeze. “My ascent to the ‘throne’ is going to be troublesome for any number of factions . . . as is the fact that you’re with me. Breaking protocol is all well and good, but eventually it catches up with you.”

  “I’m surprised Moira didn’t come, honestly.”

  He shrugged. “She may have tried. More likely she declined, in order to assure people that she has no plans to defect to this Court.”

  “Shit makes my head spin,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. I couldn’t keep half this stuff straight on a good day, but every time I turned around now it seemed as though there was a new law or rule or something just waiting to be broken. I was a little tired of dealing with consequences I had no control over.

  Kitsune’s tent loomed over the next row, the familiar scent of ginger wafting on the air. I let go of Talivar’s hand. I wanted to face my father under my own power here, even if it was in this small way.

  Two elvish guards of the Sidhe Court flanked the tent. Talivar inclined his head to them as he pulled back the tent flap, but they stared straight ahead.

  I didn’t know how things were supposed to work between Courts as far as respect went, but the way things were shaking out I wasn’t sure if Talivar had gotten quite as good a deal as he thought. He ducked inside and I followed, blinking as I adjusted to the shadowed interior.

  Kitsune knelt before her usual table, her hands folded primly before her. The fox-woman was nothing if not a master at masking her emotions. I’d hardly ever seen her appear anything other than serene.

  Her tail flicked when she saw us, an unreadable warning flashing on her face. “The Steward of Elfland has some rather interesting news to share.” She gestured to him with an elegant hand.

  My father sat cross-legged on the other side of the table, his expression nearly as emotionless, but I could see the strain in the pinch of his cheeks. He tugged the edges of his waistcoat. “The Queen has been removed from the throne,” he said without preamble, but I thought I detected a shiver in the tone of his voice.

  And with good reason, really. As nuts as she was, she had still been his lover for hundreds of years. She was the mother of at least one of his children. He’d been with her in one capacity or another for longer than I could comprehend any rational relationship lasting. But somehow it had.

  Talivar stilled at his words. “And Moira?”

  “Soon to be crowned the new Queen.” My father exhaled heavily. “She would have your council.”

  The alarm bells rang in the back of my head, echoed by the sound of the bells in my hair. As estranged as we were, my father hadn’t even acknowledged my presence. Rude in the extreme, but now that I thought about it, he hadn’t even come by to see me after I’d died. The thought hurt more than I liked to admit, but I shook it off.

  “What about me? My geas? Will she be lifting that? Getting rid of the Tithe?” I pushed past Talivar to kneel at Thomas’s side, my tone brusque. My father’s eyes barely flickered, never leaving Kitsune’s face.

  “I don’t know, Abby.”

  I rolled back on my heels. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You can’t even look at me to tell me the truth of it. Why are you even here?”

  Now he did turn toward me and it took all I had not to retreat beneath the coldness that lay within his gaze. Ageless or not, my father looked . . . old. Weary. He was still handsome, certainly, but there was a tiredness about him that I didn’t remember from before. “I volunteered.”

  “As what? A messenger boy?”

  “As a hostage, Abby.” Talivar’s hand lowered to my shoulder. “Isn’t that right, Thomas?”

  The bard nodded. “Both to alleviate any suspicion on the part of the Courts, and also as a guarantee that the Queen will not attempt anything untoward.” His mouth twitched. “Any more than she usually might.”

  “Because that’s so reassuring.” I rubbed at my forehead. “So now what?”

  Kitsune poured me a cup of tea, indicating I should drink it. “Now you see why I wanted you here.”

  “Yeah. But can we really trust this? The Queen would never give up her power willingly—and sure as hell not under these circumstances.” I exhaled slowly. “You’ve met the woman. I doubt she does anything for anyone but herself.”

  The fox-woman shrugged. “It was not always that way, though I have felt the brunt of her wrath more than once.”

  An understatement if I’d ever heard it, but most of the denizens of the Barras had felt the Faery Queen’s high-handedness in one form of another. Two hundred years was
a long time to live in exile.

  My father said nothing, which wasn’t particularly reassuring, but Talivar nodded. “I will go. To alert them of the changes here, if nothing else. Family notwithstanding, I suspect Moira’s request for council may alter somewhat once she discovers the situation.”

  Thomas’s expression became wistful. “For what it’s worth, lad, you have my support.” His attention fell on me. “You both do.”

  There might have been a hidden meaning behind those words, but it was too little and far too late. I chewed on my lip. No real help for it. Talivar was going to need his freedom more than he needed to be TouchStoned to me . . . until my geas was lifted, anyway.

  “I release you,” I murmured, feeling the bond between us snap with a surprised twang. The elf jerked back, startled.

  “What did you do that for?” Hurt flashed in his gaze.

  “You need to be a king, Talivar. You can’t do that if you’re chained here with me. At least this way you can travel the CrossRoads without being subjected to my issues.”

  His mouth compressed into a thin line but he nodded sharply. I had the feeling we’d be discussing it later, but at the moment, even he had to agree it made the most sense.

  Kitsune watched the entire exchange with a curious expression. “And what would you have us do with the Steward, my King? Should he become a guest of the Unseelie Court after all this time?”

  Talivar grunted an assent. “Let him stay here. He’s served Faerie long and loyally these many years—I would not see that wisdom go unused.” The elf king bowed elegantly to us. “I’ve some preparations to make, if you will excuse me?” Without another word he ducked out of the tent. I stared at the spot where he’d been, unsure if I was hurt or relieved he was gone.

  “Awkward . . .” Phineas muttered. “Well played, Abby.”

  “What choice did I have?” I avoided looking at Kitsune. I was in no mood for discussions about destiny or red thread or any of it.

  “There’s always a choice,” Kitsune murmured. “He needs to make these first few decisions on his own—or he’ll spend the rest of his reign questioning everything he does.”

  An odd smile crossed her face as she turned to Thomas. “I’ll admit the irony of hosting you here is somewhat disturbing, but I’ll have a tent set up.”

  “No stranger than for me,” he admitted wryly. “And I’m grateful for your hospitality, circumstances being what they are.”

  An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken history. I wanted no part of it.

  A hint of my uneasiness must have shown on my face. Phineas shook out his mane. “I’ll get him settled, Abby,” he said softly. “We’ll play chess or something.”

  “All right.” I gathered myself to my feet, uncertain of where I was supposed to go next. “Guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” I left the tent without looking back. Which was probably fairly rude, given what had just transpired, but what else was there to say?

  “Jesus, I’m so tired of this.”

  Simple.

  I wanted things to be simple again. I wanted to go home and hang with my friends. I wasn’t one for shirking my responsibilities, but it felt as though I was hurtling off the cliff so fast I’d end up road pizza in a hot second if I didn’t learn to grow wings.

  I ducked down two different rows of tents, catching a few stray glances from a gaggle of goblin women, but I was too caught up in my own inner wallowing to pay much attention. I didn’t want to head to my own tent, and certainly not to Talivar’s. He had enough on his plate without suffering through another bout of my whining. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about.

  Restless, I had the sudden urge to test the boundaries of my geas. I knew the Queen’s warning should have been enough . . . but not even Talivar had really told me what the effect would be. Only that it should be avoided.

  Fuck it. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he said? Kitsune always traveled with a portable Door of sorts. Last time it had been on the outskirts of the Lower Crescent.

  The bells in my hair mocked me with a solitary chime but I told them to shush. Stubborn thing that I was.

  I crisscrossed my way through the Hive, heading for of the Lower Crescent. My shoulders crawled with the feeling that someone was watching me. Not that I could really tell. The Barras was in full swing—a brass band could have swept through and attracted no more notice than a fly at the rate things were going.

  “Abby?” I whipped around to see Sonja beckoning me from between a set of tents, her scarlet wings shifting nervously.

  Relief shot through me. To see a familiar face was beyond welcome. Even if I’d spoken to her the night before in the Dreaming, flesh and blood was an entirely different thing. She was the first outside friend I’d seen since all this other crap began.

  I hugged her hard, falling into her arms as she embraced me, a question burning on my tongue. “Where’s Ion?”

  She exhaled sharply and pulled back, her expression troubled. “He doesn’t want you to see him yet.”

  “See him? I don’t understand.” I cocked a brow at her, my arms crossing. “You know, I’m really getting tired of people leaving me out of the loop.”

  “It’s complicated.” The bells in my hair jingled mockingly. Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize those were anything more than a dream.”

  “Yeah, well, life is odd that way.” I reached up and touched them. “So why are you here, then?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were truly alive . . . Ion insisted.”

  “You’d think he might check on me directly.” I swallowed the hurt, trying not to be too disappointed. My mouth quirked. “Did I mention I was sort of married now?”

  The color drained from her face. “You’re what?”

  “Handfasted, I guess. To Talivar. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” I rubbed the sudden rush of goose bumps rippling over my arm. “He’s King here now, by the way.”

  “You don’t say,” she muttered. “Just how powerful is that geas you’re under?”

  “I don’t know . . . Talivar got a taste of it because we were TouchStoned. Although we’re not anymore,” I amended. “He said it was pretty bad, but I was going to test it out myself. Right now, in fact.”

  “Think I’ll tag along. The only way we’ll be able to figure out how to break it is to get an idea of how it’s put together.”

  She fell into step behind me, lost in her own thoughts as we meandered through the Lower Crescent. Her wings attracted little attention, but there did arise a few suspicious murmurs from the occasional cluster of Fae. I suppose it might look bad for me to be consorting with daemons given the current political situation, but I wasn’t going to turn down help from a friend, regardless of her Path.

  Besides, she was my only real link with Brystion. And I could trust her.

  My nostrils flared as I approached the bamboo frame of the Door, my stomach fluttering. My inner voice questioned my sanity for attempting this, but I couldn’t see letting it go without knowing for sure what would happen. I stared at the frame for a few moments. Based on Talivar’s explanation, I half expected to be rolling on the ground by now, but other than the tingle of anticipation beneath my skin, I couldn’t detect any difference.

  “Going somewhere?” Nobu stepped around the far side of the Door. His own wings ruffled in the breeze as he cocked his head at me, his gaze lingering on Sonja.

  The succubus held her ground. “You keep rather interesting company, Abby.”

  “You know me. I’m a magnet for assholes.” My eyes narrowed at Nobu. “And it’s none of your business as to where I’m going. I don’t belong to you.”

  He shrugged. “As you say. I no longer have a vested interest in anything you do.”

  “Really? None at all? Not even for the sake of the Tithe?”

  “None whatsoever,” he said pleasantly. “My curiosity in that department has been well sated. Leave or stay, it’s all the same to me.”

  “I don’t und
erstand. What about our bargain?” His tone was fairly convincing, but there was something he wasn’t telling me. As much as I didn’t want to be the Tithe anymore, there was no way he would ever let me out of it so easily.

  His wings flared out in a menacing fashion, a hint of displeasure snapping through his dark eyes. “Our bargain, as you so quaintly put it, indicated you would be the Tithe, true enough . . . but more specifically it was under the assumption that you had the Key. Without it, any old mortal would do.”

  I blinked beneath the coldness of his tone. “So why not take me anyway?”

  “Because I need the Keybearer to—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that the Key is now in the possession of Maurice and I don’t need you anymore.”

  Sonja crossed her arms. “The way I heard it, he’s been a shill for Hell the whole time . . . so what’s your problem? If the Devil wants the Key, it seems like a shoo-in at this point.”

  “Who said anything about Hell?” Nobu’s upper lip curled. “And being passed over is not something Maurice took well. To toss him aside publicly? Whatever our previous relationship was, it’s now long gone. He holds no allegiance to any but himself.”

  I could buy that. I’d seen the man’s face when he realized Nobu and I had outmaneuvered him at the last moment to keep him from being released. That it was a bargain to my detriment would have made very little difference to him.

  I should have felt at least somewhat relieved at this revelation. To no longer have the weight of the Tithe hanging over me. But there was only a sick realization that someone else would most likely have to take my place . . . and things were never this easy.

  Nobu gestured at the Door. “I’ll be taking my leave now—but rest assured I’ll be back to collect the Tithe. One way or the other, Faerie still owes us. If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around too long.”

  I backed away from the Door. “I can’t.”

  “What are your choices?” Sonja pointed out. “Wait here and hope the Devil likes to play cards?”

  “He does, you know,” Nobu added. “He’s a wicked cheat, though.”