by Bast, Anya
“The Phaendir did this to us.”
“They instigated it, they directed it, and they control it. But they never would have been able to pull it off without the help and cooperation of the humans.”
“It’s a perspective shared by many of the fae in Piefferburg, especially in the outlying areas, in Sharp Teeth, particularly. If the warding ever breaks, there are some humans who should watch out,” said Bran.
“Yeah. Aeric and I have had this conversation before. That can’t happen. If the fae target the humans with blood vengeance, the fae will find themselves squashed flatter than they are now.”
“No. The fae have magick to call,” Aelfdane replied. “Humans have nothing.”
“One fae has magick to call, but as a group the fae are disorganized and the humans outnumber us—what? five thousand to one, maybe? Not very good odds.”
“The fae are tribal, you’re right about that. It’s always been that way. Ever since the time when the Phaendir and the fae were allies, back as far as we keep records.” Gabriel paused and then finished, “At least the records that survived the Great Sweep.”
Emmaline met Aeric’s eyes across the room, sharing a secret between them for a moment. Then she told them about Calum and the fae archives that he protected and studied.
They spoke about history, the world outside Piefferburg, and fae politics up until it was almost time for Aeric, Aelfdane, Melia, and Bran to join the Wild Hunt. Then they said their good-byes and went for a walk in Piefferburg Square before he had to meet the rest of the Furious Host.
The evening was warm and the sky clear, sprinkled with stars. The Black Tower reached straight up into that diamond scatter. They walked close to each other, in a companionable silence, until they reached the statue of Jules Piefferburg in the center. It was dressed in a lady’s gown and a fancy hat with a plume. To top it off, someone had stuck a curly blond wig on the statue’s head.
Emmaline laughed and shook her head.
Aeric looked up at it, admiring the vandal’s handiwork. No one liked to touch the statue of the human founder and architect of Piefferburg because it was made of one hundred percent charmed iron. “We have to get our kicks somehow.”
“Did you make this statue?”
He sobered, remembering. “Yes. They held my da and threatened to kill him if I didn’t.”
“The Phaendir?”
Aeric nodded. “They took him into custody. He was very ill with Watt’s then, very weak. I made the stupid statue.”
“Bastards.”
He said nothing, staring up at the hunk of metal. At least it provided the imprisoned fae with a laugh once in a while. They couldn’t take it down because it was made of charmed iron, but they pelted the statue with rotten food almost every day.
“I like being here,” murmured Emmaline. “I know that it’s a prison and I know that all the rest of the fae want out, but . . . it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
Aeric let out a laugh. “What are you talking about? You’ve been kidnapped twice, three people have tried to kill you, and you’ve been tortured by another. Emmaline, this place hasn’t exactly been heaven for you.”
“I know. I know that, but my people are here, my roots.”
“Judging by the time you’ve had in Piefferburg, I’ll go out on a limb and say your people are assholes. Myself included.”
She flicked a smile at him. “It just feels good to be around the fae, that’s all I’m saying, not necessarily the ones who want to kidnap, kill, or torture me. The rest of them. That dinner we had tonight was the best time I’ve had in so long I can’t even remember. It’s good to be with people who know what I am, where I come from, who share a common bond. I haven’t had that for so long.”
“Yes. I see what you’re saying.” He turned away from the statue, looking toward the Rose Tower. It made him think of the Summer Queen. He closed his eyes against a rush of anger, then pulled Emmaline against him. “You need to meet my father,” he murmured into her hair and then kissed the crown of her head.
Her arms came around him. “I do?”
“Yes. He’s the only family I have left. I want you to meet him.”
She said nothing.
He pushed her away far enough so he could see her face. “Do you want to meet him?”
“Yes! Yes, I do. I’m just surprised you asked.” She smiled. “Hey, tonight was sort of like a date, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess it was.” He leaned forward and kissed her softly and slowly. “Wanna come up to my place for a quick drink before I have to meet the hunt?”
She made a low purrlike sound in her throat that heated his blood. “I want more than just a drink from you.”
CÁEL O’Malley seemed a lot like an elderly human man. His hair had gone gray and his back was stooped. His fingers were gnarled and his knuckles knobby. One could tell by just a glance that Cáel had once been as tall and as strong as his son, maybe even more so, but his brush with death had stripped all that away. By all accounts, Cáel O’Malley had come as close as one could to meeting the Wild Hunt without actually doing it.
But he was still a strong man. The expression he wore on his face and the light in his eyes told you that right away. Emmaline saw Aeric had inherited much from his father.
He lived in an apartment in the upper tier of the Black Tower. That was where she and Aeric met him the next day after Aeric had depleted his ability to work on the key.
“Ah, I remember you!” Cáel reached out his knotted hand to her and she took it. “Met you on the road to the village one day, I did. A long time ago. Back when you were doing things you shouldn’t for the Summer Queen.”
“You have a good memory.”
He squinted at her and patted the seat beside him on the couch. “Do you remember meeting me?”
“I remember.” She glanced at Aeric. “You were his father, so I remember it well. It made an impression at the time.”
Cáel jerked his head at his son, who had taken a nearby chair. “This one made you out to be an enemy, but here you are sitting beside me now. What changed?”
“Lots of stuff, da. I finally put the past in context.”
Cáel cracked a smile filled with bad teeth, but it was beautiful nonetheless. “I told you, son, everything is perspective. I’m glad you finally got some.” He patted Emmaline’s hand and she glowed with happiness. Against all odds, Cáel liked her.
“Yeah, da,” Aeric said, meeting Emmaline’s gaze. “Me, too.”
“He doesn’t bring many women to meet me,” said Cáel with a cackle. “Must mean you’re special.”
Aeric covered her hand with his. “She is.” He paused. “But don’t get your hopes up too much, da. She’s not planning to stay in Piefferburg.”
The flare of happiness that had sparked in Emmaline’s chest died with a little gasp. That’s right, one should never get one’s hopes up.
STANDING in Aeric’s living room, she reached out and touched the polished wood of her bow.
“Emmaline?”
She jumped, startled, pulling her hand back from the crossbow like it was a blazing fire.
Aeric’s warm, broad hands closed around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
He remained that way, staring down at her old weapon with her for several moments. “Let’s go out and shoot it.”
“What?” She gave a surprised laugh.
“Yeah. I’ve done all I can do on the key today. My magick is drained to the dregs on that stupid thing. Let’s take it out to the Boundary Lands and shoot it.”
She studied the weapon with a mixture of longing and apprehension. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t want me to get rid of it.”
She gave him a weird look over her shoulder. “What does that have to do with going out to shoot it?”
He turned her to face him and tipped her chin up to force her gaze to meet his. “It means, Emmaline, that you might be a little afraid
of this weapon, but you want, somewhere deep inside you, to accept it back into your life.”
She shook her head. “No—”
“Not the killing, obviously. I mean the object itself. It represents a part of your personal history, a tumultuous part, but maybe accepting this weapon into your present means that you can forgive yourself for the past. It’s a symbol.”
“I don’t deserve forgiveness.” She turned to look at the crossbow. Carefully, she picked it up and held it. This time she didn’t want to put it down again, so maybe, even though she didn’t deserve forgiveness, some part of her wanted it.
“You do.” He paused. “Everyone does.”
She stared down at the weapon in her hands and hesitated before answering, “All right. Let’s go.”
A few minutes later she had the bow strapped to her back and they were on the back of Aeric’s cycle, headed out of Piefferburg City and toward the woods.
He parked the bike at the start of one of the many paths leading into the Boundary Lands and hid it with foliage. Then they walked a distance in and found a tree—a target for her to shoot at.
Aeric settled back against another tree and folded his arms over his chest, watching her. His body was relaxed, but his eyes were keen and sparked with interest.
“This,” she said, holding the bow out. “This is the weapon that killed Aileen.”
He nodded. “I’m aware.”
“And you want me to accept it back into my life?”
“In actuality, you were the weapon that killed Aileen. I’ve accepted you, haven’t I? That crossbow is nothing but a tool.” He paused, looking hard at her. “I want what’s best for you, Emmaline.”
She selected one of the steel-tipped quarrels from her quiver. Swallowing hard, she nocked the bolt into the bow. It slid home with a soft sound that she remembered all too well. She closed her eyes for a moment against a rush of emotion.
“Emmaline?”
Her eyes popped open. “I’m okay.”
“Try to hit that leaf up there, the light purple one.”
She looked up into the fae-magicked tree, seeing the leaf he was talking about. Without even really thinking about it, she lifted the bow, sighted, and let fly. Her body remembered. Her mind and eyes and fingers remembered. Instinctually. The bolt sliced clean through the purple leaf and embedded itself high in a tree trunk beyond it.
Aeric let out a low whistle of appreciation, looking at the perfect hole. “You didn’t even rip it from the tree.”
“Yeah,” she replied in a shaky voice. She lowered the weapon to her side. “It’s a good crossbow.”
“And you obviously haven’t lost your touch.”
She looked down at the bow. “I guess not. Not sure if that’s a good thing or not.”
“How’s it feel to shoot it again?”
“Um.” She looked down at the bow, considering it. “As long as I’m not shooting at people, it feels pretty nice.”
“It’s a good weapon for you, something you’re familiar with, and obviously a thing you have some talent with. You should carry it. It would be an excellent defense against the Summer Queen and the Phaendir.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “And Lars.”
“Carry it? Aeric, it’s not exactly pocket-size.”
“No, a handgun it isn’t, but it’s still a pretty damn effective weapon. You can use glamour to hide it when you leave here.”
She shook her head. “Aeric, I don’t know.”
He walked over to her. “Please do it for me. It kills me to know I can’t protect you once you leave this place. If I know you’re carrying a weapon like this one, I’ll feel better.”
The concern on his face and in his voice made her mouth go dry. She glanced down at the crossbow again. “Yeah, okay. If you want me to carry it, I will.”
“Good.” He tipped her chin up and kissed her, his tongue stealing in to part her lips.
Soon her crossbow was forgotten.
EMMALINE stood, wrapped in a warm blanket, looking up at the tapestry that concealed the door to his forge. It was a chilly morning. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace against the bite and she held a cup of coffee in her hand.
The tapestry was beautiful in a chaotic and savage way. It depicted one of the scenes from the fae wars. A murder of crows flew in the sky, fighting on the side of those wildings who’d taken part in the battle. She remembered that. The wildings like Bran, those who had the ability to communicate with animals, had enlisted their help. It was one of the ways in which the fae had revealed themselves to the human world.
War. It had awakened all their passions, pushed them past their inhibitions, and caused them to engage in all kinds of risky and self-destructive behavior. She never wanted to see that happen again.
When she’d woken that morning, Aeric had been beside her, his arms around her so tight and protective that she’d never wanted to leave them. Then he’d rolled over her, kissed her slow, and slid between her thighs without a word.
Aeric was a man who never asked, he just took what he wanted. And he wanted her, insatiably. Single-minded in his purpose, he was relentless in pursuing his desires. He’d made love to her thoroughly, silently. She’d come twice, shuddering and sighing out her pleasure against his mouth.
He’d held her close afterward, nuzzling her throat. Finally, they’d risen to meet the day. Aeric had taken up his work with the key. She’d made coffee and roamed his apartment.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned to see Aeric standing near the bed. There were dark shadows playing over his face and he gripped the carving knife loosely in one hand. “It’s done.”
The blissful, content sensation that had warmed her only a moment earlier transformed to icy, jagged spikes of emotion that made her knees turn to butter for a second.
She should have been happy.
She should have been ecstatic that her mission was now back on course and she could accomplish her objective.
She should have been excited about finally leaving Piefferburg, the Summer Queen, and Lars—not to mention the Unseelie Court, where everyone wanted to cut off her head and parade around with it on a pike.
But it also meant she’d be leaving Aeric.
She swallowed hard and tried to smile. “That’s great.”
He dropped his knife on the coffee table and walked toward her. He looked tired, as he always did after expending the magick, energy, and concentration it took to create the key. “I was very careful and took my time. Going from the translations on the outside of the box, I have confidence that this key will work.”
“Unless there’s some booby trap we’re not aware of, I’m sure it will.”
His steps faltered. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s a possibility, Aeric.”
“Yeah, I know. One I’m trying not to think about.” He reached her and opened his hand. The key lay there, shiny and warmed from his skin.
She picked it up and held it to the light. It looked like any other key might look that had been crafted from iron. Unattractive. Unassuming. It hardly looked like the key—literally—to unlocking part of the path to freedom for all the fae. It didn’t look anything like the powerful object it was.
Her fist closed around it and she shuddered from the sensation of the charmed iron against her skin. She’d have to wrap it in fabric to carry it for any length of time. “Thank you.”
He cupped her cheek and kissed her deeply. There was sadness in the touch of his lips against hers.
She set her forehead against his. “I guess that means it’s time for me to leave,” she said on a heavy sigh. “I’ll go get my things.”
TWENTY
IT didn’t take long for her to be ready to go. She would have liked to linger, but she couldn’t justify it, not when she had the key. Not when David was waiting for her. Not when he might already be in danger.
Anyway, she’d be back. She’d see Aeric again.
For a little while, at least.
After
they traveled through the city, they parked Aeric’s motorcycle at the edge of downtown Piefferburg, where the city abruptly gave way to the territory of the wildings. The road that led through the Boundary Lands and eventually to the gates of Piefferburg began here. The one he’d abducted her from over three weeks earlier. She had to walk it alone, the same way she’d come in.
Her crossbow was strapped to her back. She’d conceal it with glamour once she got close to the gates, just as she would her appearance.
“There’s no guarantee that we’ll ever locate the third piece of the bosca fadbh.” Aeric walked next to her. His boots crunched fallen leaves and gravel.
“No.”
“So there’s no guarantee that the walls of Piefferburg will ever be broken.”
“No.” She stopped walking. “Aeric, where are you going with this?”
He stopped and looked up at the sky for a moment. It was a nice blue, broken by a few wispy clouds. Sunlight dappled through the tangled ceiling of tree branches above them. He turned and met her gaze. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to stay.”
“What?” Her heart thumped crazily in her chest. “I have to go. The key—”
“I mean when you come back with the piece. It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to stay then, since it would be like asking you to put yourself in prison voluntarily.”
“Aeric,” she breathed. Ambushed. She’d been totally and completely ambushed by this. He wanted her to stay with him?
“Just think about it. You said yourself that you like it here despite everything.” He walked to her and pulled her into his arms. His mouth came down on hers softly at first and then grew hungrier and hungrier. “Goibhniu, I’m going to miss you.”
She tried to smile. “Funny, the last time we stood on this road, you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“That was then.”
“This is now.” Her slight smile faded. “Yes, I know. I have to go, Aeric.”
“I know.”
She pulled away from him and started down the road on her own.