A Trace of Moonlight

by Allison Pang

  He jabbed at the Tree with a meaty finger. “This happened on your watch. Faerie is responsible and must therefore pay the price.”

  Kitsune lowered her head and stepped forward. “And so we shall. We only ask that we be allowed to do so in our own way. Allow us to seek justice against the one who did this.”

  “And since when have the Fae been aught but duplicitous? When do they do anything save for themselves?” The angel blew out sharply. “It is no wonder you were cast out of Heaven, you feckless bastards.”

  “That’s enough of that,” I said finally, unable to remain silent any longer. The sooner we got this over with, the sooner I could turn my attention to trying to find Maurice again. “This may have happened on the Fae’s watch . . . but it was a mortal who did it.” My eyes flicked over to the daemons. “One I believe that was acting partially with your . . . master’s approval at one point?”

  “And who are you?” one of the daemons leered at me. “Tasty mortal wench.”

  Brystion bristled, but I waved him down. No time for that either.

  “King Talivar’s wife . . . and Her Highness’s sister—so I’d say that gives me a fairly high stake in what’s going on here.” I felt a guilty twinge at my words, but technically Talivar and I hadn’t annulled the handfasting. The words were true, even though the sentiment wasn’t.

  “Another Faerie ally,” the daemon sniffed.

  “Not quite,” I murmured. “I’m also a KeyStone. I can TouchStone any of you, right now, if that would help plead my case here. I won’t play favorites—and as a member of the Fourth Path, I have as much a right to speak as any of you.”

  “Mortals are what got us into this whole mess.”

  “We’re an easy target,” I retorted. “And if you’d just listen, I’m trying to tell you I might have a way to fix it.”

  The daemon shook his head, but Nobu shoved him back. “You will listen.”

  “Says who?” the daemon spat. “Last I heard, you’d gone rogue.” Its smile became toothy. “Freelance, as it were.”

  Nobu’s wings snapped out and the angels tensed, but before I could get a word in, a Door cracked open at the edge of the field, ebony black horses pouring through it with a wave of yelping hounds. Talivar rode at the head of the line, his clothes travel stained and muddy.

  “Nine for the race of man,” I muttered, ignoring Moira’s sharp look. “At least he’s not wearing black.”

  The elf scanned the field, his eye grim and cold until he finally spotted our pavilion. Kicking his heels lightly, he guided the black stallion over to us. Its sides blew hard as he dismounted, handing the reins to what I could only assume was an elvish squire. Talivar pressed past the entire group to find me, his hands clasping mine, lifting them to his mouth so he could kiss them tenderly.

  His face had a wan and faded look to it, the edges weary and . . . older than I remembered. “Abby,” he murmured, pulling me against him to bury his face in my neck. It was less romantic and more as though he simply needed the touch of another person.

  I tentatively stroked his hair, his skin cool beneath my touch. “Are you all right?”

  He blinked rapidly and pulled away, his hands trembling. “You have no idea what it’s like . . . it’s all-consuming.” His gaze darted blankly around me. “When I’m riding, there’s no room for any other thought.”

  He coughed, his lungs rattling. “I found him, though. I found the bastard.”

  Everyone went still at this, their attention riveted on the elf.

  “Did you kill him?” Moira’s nostrils flared but he shook his head.

  “No. He’s holed himself up in a Shadow Realm and we cannot reach him.” He held up a weary hand. “The Door to the realm cannot be breached directly . . . without the Key,” he said wryly, looking down at my bare neck.

  “And Melanie couldn’t open it? I mean, she can open just about anything, right?”

  “Mel needs a Contract,” Brystion reminded me. “And the knowledge of where that Door ends up.” His gaze darted to where her silhouette stood against the witchlight. “Besides, if she goes to open the Door, who will keep the Tree alive?” He touched my arm, his expression resigned. “There’s another way,” he said softly.

  “How?” Nobu demanded, anger rippling through his voice. “What other choice do we have?”

  “The Dreaming.”

  My legs went shaky as I realized what he meant. “You want me to DreamWalk? Into his dreams? Are you out of your goddamned mind?” I shuddered. “It would be like walking through slime. Hell, I barely managed it with Mel and I probably damn near killed her as a result. You heard what Sonja said . . . even with the extra boost I got from you, I can barely manage it.”

  “That’s why you won’t be alone,” he said dryly. “You’ll be the anchor that connects us to him . . . and I’ll make sure we walk the tightrope without issue.”

  “But how? I thought you were going to remain mortal.”

  He shrugged, a rueful sadness curving his lips in a lopsided smile. “We don’t always get everything we want.” He untied the bells out of my hair and they jingled with an odd sense of familiarity. “It’s time,” he agreed, weaving them into his. They rang out in a quiet way, Ion’s eyes sparking in a soft gold.

  Behind me, Talivar let out a startled grunt, even as Brystion shivered. A moment later his mouth pursed into a familiar smirk, one brow cocked at me. “We’ll have to do the rest in the Dreaming, I’m afraid. I gave you my power there, and that’s where I’ll have to take it back.”

  He turned to Talivar, his face sobering. “Can you take us to the Door? Assuming Abby and I can manage something on our end, it’s very likely he’ll bolt.”

  “Seeing as all he probably has to do is wake up,” Talivar said sourly. “As a plan, I don’t like it much.”

  Ion’s voice grew cold. “All mortals have to sleep sometime.”

  I rolled my eyes, and pulled both the elf and the almost-incubus aside. “Let’s get out of here. The sooner we figure this out, the better off we’ll be. As long as we can get the Key. That’s what’s needed to heal the Tree. The rest of it doesn’t matter at all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I shrugged. “Sure enough. For whatever that’s worth.” I glanced back at Kitsune. “And you might want to leave her in charge. There seems to be some confusion as to what role I’m supposed to be playing here in the Court.” I bumped Talivar gently. “I’m not cut out for being a Queen.”

  He gave me a wan smile. “I would argue that point with you, had we the time. Give me a moment to talk things over with her and you can ride with me.”

  Brystion shook his head. “I’m not risking her getting involved with the Hunt. We’ll ride with you, but Abby’s not riding ‘with’ you.”

  The two men shared a moment of silence, the way they so often did. Talivar’s gaze darted toward me. “As you will,” he sighed, stalking off to where Kitsune continued to argue with a blue-horned daemon.

  “Marking your territory?” I raised an eyebrow at Brystion.

  “Still throwing yourself directly into traffic?” he retorted pleasantly. “We’re about to confront one of the biggest douche bags on the CrossRoads. I’d rather not come out of it only to find out you’re damned for the next hundred years or so.” He shrugged. “Besides, neither of us is really required to be there physically.”

  “We’re not going to do that to him,” I said, my tone grim as I looked at the elf. “Whatever our issues, we all need to work together on this. Besides, if this doesn’t work? What do you think Maurice’s first line of action is going to be? Somehow I doubt he’ll wait around for us to try it a second time and I have no desire to wake up to a knife at my throat.”

  Brystion frowned, touching the bells in his hair. “I’m going to need Sonja’s help to reach the Dreaming. I’m a bit trapped at the moment—not really an incubus and not really mortal. Normally I’d just take the CrossRoads there, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it alone this t
ime.”

  “What happens if you fall asleep?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll still have a Dreaming Heart after this.” He turned away, his voice thick with regret. “Dreaming Hearts are only for mortals. Perhaps it will just fade away.”

  I took his hand. “We’ll figure it out.”

  His mouth pursed ruefully as Talivar approached us. “Guess we’ll have to.”

  The elf eyed us with a slightly sour face, but gestured at us to follow him. “There are a few extra horses with Moira’s group. She’s agreed to let us use them. I’ll send the Hunt on without me and lead you there myself.”

  Behind us Melanie continued playing. Her music remained strong—the dulcet tones of “Adagio for Strings” swirling around us now—but I wondered at her fragility. Would she would fly apart into a thousand pieces if I touched her?

  Phin pawed at my calf, his ears flattening. “I’ll stay here with her. I can’t help where you’re going anyway, and she needs someone she can trust.”

  I caught an approving look from Nobu and he bowed to the unicorn in an oddly elegant fashion.

  Funny how the world ending leads to strange bedfellows.

  The squire I’d seen before led a set of matching white horses toward us. Talivar mounted first, raising a brow as he indicated I should ride in front of him.

  Ion boosted me up and into Talivar’s arms before mounting his own mare. “Watch over her while she sleeps, elf. What we attempt is extraordinarily dangerous—her body must be guarded at all costs.”

  “Understood.” Talivar blew once on the horn, and the Hunt whirled away and disappeared through the Door they had come. The elf’s arms curled tightly around me as he kicked his own horse forward. “I love you, Abby,” he murmured in my ear. “Whatever happens . . . remember that.”

  I tucked the words into my mind, folding up the memory of the sound of his voice at that moment. We stood on the edge of a precipice—like so many times before. Except this time the world really would end if we didn’t get things figured out . . . or at least be changed beyond anything I wanted to live in.

  I kissed him, my lips brushing his cheek. “I love you too.”

  He said nothing to this, but nudged the horse on beneath us. I caught Brystion’s eye as we approached the Door where the Hunt had gone and the incubus waved before loping off in a different direction. Part of me shivered at the thought of leaving him behind, but he had to work this part out on his own. He certainly didn’t need an audience.

  But what if he can’t reach the Dreaming at all? My inner voice was less snide than usual, but it was a fair enough question. And not one that I had an answer for.

  And then it didn’t matter because the Door shimmered before us. Taliver didn’t hesitate, plunging us through onto the CrossRoads. Melanie’s music faded away, along with the hum and buzz of so many OtherFolk in close quarters.

  The silence and silver welcomed us, the horse’s hooves thudding upon the cobblestones and stirring up the dust.

  “Just like old times,” Talivar murmured sadly.

  A lump rose in my throat. It had only been a few weeks, but so much had happened. There wasn’t much else to be said and we rode in relative quiet after that. There was a rattle in his breath I didn’t care for and I made a mental note to make sure a healer looked at his lungs once we got out of this whole mess.

  We approached the site carefully, though there wasn’t anything particularly interesting about it. A small grassy knoll with a rounded door carved into a thick boulder was the only thing of any great import. “That’s it?”

  Talivar shook his head and dismounted, holding out a hand to help me down. “No. You’d think so, but the clever bastard Glamoured the real Door. It’s actually between those two trees. This seemed like a good place to set up a camp to wait for him to come out. This other door appears to be someone’s idea of a joke,” he said dryly. “I suspect someone nipped if off a certain movie set.”

  “But Talivar . . . you know the Key doesn’t have to work that way. He could use it to open the Door to anywhere, not just here.”

  He exhaled sharply. “I know, but at least we’d still see that there would be some sort of activity . . . I don’t know. It’s the best I could come up with, Abby.” There was an exhaustion in his voice that spoke of not wanting to admit certain things, and there was no point in belaboring what couldn’t be controlled.

  “All right.” I found a quiet spot beside the hill, and the elf laid his cloak upon it for me to sit on. The rest of the Hunt nosed around the tree line, living shadows drifting in and out like a restless tide of horses and hounds. I wondered aloud at their apparent lack of interest in the Door.

  “The Hunt hunts. The prey has gone to ground and until the hounds pick up the scent, they will wait.” Talivar sat down and pulled me into his lap, tipping my head so it rested on his chest. He felt . . . hollow beneath me, but he planted a soft kiss upon my brow, his fingers stroking my cheek. “I will watch over you as you sleep. Whatever happens, you will be safe.”

  I smiled wryly at him. “I know. I’ll see you on the other side. And maybe when we’re all done here, we can have a movie night? I’ve missed that.”

  He chuckled. “As have I.”

  I spared a last glance at the Hunt. I couldn’t quite keep a tremor of fear from rippling down my spine, but the elf kept up the rhythmic stroke of his hands in my hair, humming beneath his breath.

  And then I slipped away.

  Nineteen

  The Heart of my Dreaming was eerily still, the crickets quiet. A slight rustle crept through the silver grass, and the wind had a salty tang to it. The sea rode upon my dreams, as though my nightmare sharks were rallying themselves to the cause.

  I frowned. Perhaps they could be used in some fashion to break down Maurice’s inner barriers. I certainly didn’t give two shits if he was injured in the process.

  Assuming we could find the fucker at all.

  Melanie’s Heart had been hard enough to breach—and I knew her. We were friends. Something told me Maurice wouldn’t be quite so willing to let me inside and, given what a complete asshat he’d been this whole time, the gods only knew what he’d manage to do inside his own head.

  First things first, though. I approached the gate, my gaze darting about. No sign of Brystion.

  What if the incubus couldn’t come back this way? I would have to seek him out . . . assuming his own Heart still remained.

  A sudden grating crash at the front gate startled me and I saw Sonja there, her eyes panicked. “Abby!”

  I ran to the gate, throwing it open. “What’s going on?”

  “I need you to come with me, right now.” She snatched at my hand, yanking me onto the path and in the direction of Ion’s Heart. “Whatever you’ve got inside of you, you have to give it back, right now. He’s dying.”

  A lance of pain tore through my chest and I followed her without a word, skirting over the dimly lit path. Behind me, I caught the shadowed silver edge of fins sliding through the darkness, but I shoved them away.

  Not now.

  Defense or not, I wouldn’t use them against the incubus. I’d inadvertently done it once before and it had driven a wedge between us. I couldn’t bear it if it happened again. And I had the distinct feeling that whatever was going to happen now, it would make my previous Dreaming encounters look like a cakewalk.

  “What happened?”

  “He managed to make it to the Dreaming via the CrossRoads, but instead of the route we normally take here, he ended up in that odd little Heart of his. He’s stuck there and it’s draining him.” She shook her head, moving even faster. “He’s not letting me in. You need a mortal soul to sustain a Heart. I don’t know what’s going on inside.”

  Another burst of speed and her wings spread wide. “Come on,” she snapped. “Use your power. You’re not helpless.”

  I shook myself, realizing she was right, and pulled the Dreaming about me in my usual silver bubble of light. Floating along, I
was able to increase the pace until we arrived at Brystion’s Dreaming Heart.

  Which was almost completely engulfed in fire.

  “Jesus, we have to get him out of there!”

  She whirled on me in frustration. “I know!”

  “Ion!” I screamed his name, the flames leaping higher as I approached. “I’m coming in now, Ion. I’m giving it back to you.” I didn’t even know what it was, but clearly there wasn’t going to be any other way.

  Trusting him not to fry me senseless, I hurtled my little bubble into the rising wall of searing heat, burning me through my shield. All around me, the forest crackled, pine trees disintegrating like blackened paper. I hurried on. He’d be in the center.

  But when I got there, the cottage lay in a smoking ruin, the thatched roof nearly gone, and my heart broke to see his careful work destroyed so quickly.

  Where was he? There was no sign of Ion’s daemon side like before, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

  Looking at how the fire encircled the cottage, I realized that it was burning outward, rather than closing in on the little house.

  The door to the cottage creaked open, a puff of soot billowing out. Coughing, I stepped inside, uttering a cry when I saw him curled into a ball in front of the fireplace. Trapped in some oddly fashioned half-form, he was neither human or daemon, both gray-skinned and hairy with eyes the glazed gold of fading embers.

  “Shit.” I knelt beside him, heedless of anything else, and grabbed a clawed hand. “Ion! Ion, wake up. It’s me. Wake up!”

  He let out a hesitant groan. “Can’t seem to hold on to this place,” he muttered. “Can’t control it.”

  “Take it,” I begged him. “Take the power back.”

  “Don’t know how. Not sure I can . . . like this.”

  “Bullshit.” I opened the KeyStone channel between us, searching for a way to TouchStone him. If he was partially human, then he was partially OtherFolk. If there was something there, I could feed myself into him.