by Liz de Jager
Aiden’s scowl matches Dante’s dark look as they trail me into one of the comfortable waiting rooms. They’re really not happy being here and, admittedly, neither am I. If I can get Suola to tell us more about Torsten and his employer, it will give me a chance to figure out where to find the kids and how to bring them back.
The dissonance of the whole morning has been magnified by having to tell Aiden about Dante being a changeling. And, on top of that, that he was most likely related to Eadric himself by being his son. Aiden stared at Dante with an inscrutable expression for some time but then he nodded, looking less than pleased.
‘This sucks, dude. Your dad was a nut job.’ Dante looked horrified, but Aiden carried on regardless, oblivious to how his words might actually hurt. ‘But it’s okay, because if he just dumped you here and you grew up relatively normal, chances are you’re not a nut job too.’
‘Uh, thanks? I think.’
There have been some frosty silences since then, which I can tell Aiden can’t figure out. It makes me want to shake him hard: Dante isn’t used to the whole changeling thing himself – never mind being related to a notorious traitor.
Tay, our Fae guard, returns after a few minutes to check if we need anything else. All three of us decline anything to drink. His grey eyes sweep over us and I get the impression that he’s not overly keen on us being here, but he gives a short bow before exiting the room.
‘I don’t like being here,’ Aiden says in a low growl. ‘And being unarmed? Not my favourite thing in the world.’
I twist my lips into a wry grin. ‘Seriously? You’re never unarmed, Aiden – get a grip.’ And then, when Dante looks at me in surprise, I shrug. ‘What? He’s a flipping wolf. He can drop his human skin and became a raging tooth-and-claw monster in like ten seconds flat. We’re the ones who’ll be toast.’
‘I know kung fu,’ Dante says to Aiden. ‘That should help.’
Aiden rolls his eyes and goes to peer out of the window. ‘I can’t believe this whole block belongs to her. My dad didn’t even know.’
‘I’m just about coming to terms with the fact that we don’t know all there is to know about any of the Fae,’ I reply, seating myself in a chair that looks like it might not hold my weight. ‘And that the treaties I’ve heard Uncle Andrew and Jamie bang on about don’t seem to be worth much after all.’
An uncomfortable silence falls on the three of us. Aiden prowls around the room, looking out of the windows, checking the door (locked) and touching the few pieces of furniture. He tosses the dust cloth covering a beautiful piano aside and sits down.
‘Any requests?’
I’m too surprised to say anything and Dante clearly thinks he’s kidding, so he just shrugs.
‘Fine, we’ll start with some “Claire de Lune” by Debussy.’
Dante and I share a look of amazement as the familiar bit of music starts.
‘Did you know he could play?’
‘No idea. Imagine that. A musical wolf.’
‘I can hear you, you know.’ Aiden’s scowl is only half serious. ‘Did you know this music is influenced by a poem by the same name? It’s by a guy called Paul Verlaine.’ He clears his throat and recites in an incredibly clear voice that rises above the music:
‘Your soul is a chosen landscape
Where charming masqueraders and bergamaskers go
Playing the lute and dancing and almost
Sad beneath their fanciful disguises.’
I think had Suola walked in at that moment, dressed as Batman, my jaw would not have dropped further.
‘Who are you?’ I ask Aiden, walking closer to him. ‘Why haven’t you ever mentioned you can play the piano? That you know obscure French poetry.’
‘My dear Kit, I am deeply mysterious, not to mention incredibly attractive.’ His grin is cheeky and I laugh at him. ‘Also, my mum loves music and poetry so she made sure her boys knew how to play the piano and could recite poetry.’
‘Save us all from this, right now, please,’ I joke and turn back to Dante, still laughing, but he’s gone very still, his gaze fixed on a small array of pictures in silver frames resting on an ornate marble table.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Those are photos of Fae?’
‘I don’t know. Shall we go look?’ I stride over and pick up one. ‘Yes, this is Aelfric and his sons. See?’ The frame seems to weigh a ton as I turn towards him. ‘I met them all last year.’
He takes the picture from me and looks down at the picture. ‘Which one is Thorn?’
I feels as if he’s punched me in the gut. I lean against him so I can see the picture again. ‘This is him.’
‘He looks a little tense. And young.’
I take it from him and run my thumb across the glass. ‘He is. Was. Is.’ I take a deep breath and put it back on the small table so I can look at the other framed photos. ‘This is Suola and her consort. The Sun King and his wife.’ I touch each picture in turn. ‘These are other Sidhe nobles I recognize from Aelfric’s court but I don’t know who they are.’
‘None of my father?’
I scan the others and shrug. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never met Eadric.’
Aiden’s piano playing segues into a mournful waltz and when I shoot him a look of annoyance he does a mad rendition of ‘Chopsticks’ that makes even Dante smile a little. Next up is a lively csardas tune but thankfully the door swings open and Melusine is standing there, her expression mildly irritated.
Her gaze sweeps over the three of us and she sighs. ‘Would it kill you people to come here not looking like a band of mercenaries? You are seeing the Queen of the Unseelie, you know. Where’s your respect?’
I shrug in my leather jacket, feeling warm and comfortable in my jeans and knee-high biker boots. ‘We’re not here for a fashion show, Melusine. Will she see us?’
Her hands flutter in a gesture of annoyance and she turns away. ‘Come, but hurry. We’ve got a lot of supplicants to see today and Suola only has a few minutes to spare for you and your little friends.’
Aiden minces up behind Melusine, copying the sway of her hips in her sheath dress that looks more like silk sleepwear. I bite back my laughter because he sashays alarmingly well for a big guy. Melusine leads us into what I can only assume is the largest room in the building of large rooms. There are no curtains on the windows and for a moment I’m disoriented by the light and scale of the place. Heavy chandeliers drip with crystal, reflecting the light. The floor is a wide expanse of white and gold marble. A red strip of carpet runs the length of the room and ends at the foot of a large throne carved from black stone. A heavy throw of black feathers and fur is draped across the back and I shudder to think what creatures died to supply it.
Suola is sitting regally on the throne and she watches us imperiously as we follow Melusine up the length of the carpet. I have never in my life felt more exposed or examined by anyone. Our small intimate meeting when she gave us the job seemed bad enough, until now, in this cavern of an ex-ballroom. We are also under the scrutiny of four heavily armoured bodyguards and a few pale Fae dressed in soft grey robes. I feel hugely unprepared and nervous.
‘Blackhart, Dante.’ She draws a breath and stands. ‘Wolf.’
Both Dante and Aiden stare at her as if they’ve never seen a woman before and even I’m breathless and bothered by her beauty. She’s dressed in a gown straight out of a Goth girl’s dream, all tight lace over a stunning silk bodice. Below this, the silk skirt flares sumptuously at the back, the front cut shorter with folds cunningly gathered to just above her knees, revealing long slender legs the colour of dark chocolate. Her feet are bare and as she moves down the little dais towards us I feel like prey.
‘What can I do for you today, children?’ She walks to a small high table holding two goblets and a carafe of wine. She pours herself a glass and turns back to us, her smile showing a hint of her wildness. ‘Do you wish to join my Court?’ she asks Dante, who shakes his head mutely. ‘Then why are you her
e? I’m sad to say I do not have too much time for dallying.’
‘We’ve come to ask you about Torsten and Brixi. Do you know where Brixi’s taken the children?’
‘The children?’ Her brows rise in surprise. ‘Really? That’s why you’ve risked coming to meet me? How superbly sweet and human of you.’ Her laugh is a soft feathery delight and Aiden shivers next to me. I let my fingers creep towards his and squeeze his hand briefly. He grips them tightly, as if thoroughly out of his depth, and the pain helps anchor me against any of Suola’s persuasive magics.
‘I’d very much like to find them and bring them home to their parents.’ The force of her gaze feels almost physical, but I square my shoulders. ‘You did say when you asked us to investigate this that we were to find the children and restore them to their parents.’
Suola’s dark gaze flickers towards Melusine, who gives a small nod, and she sighs dramatically.
‘Very well.’ She stalks back to her chair and flings herself into its depths, somehow making it look as if it’s the comfiest leather armchair, rather than something carved from black stone. ‘You need to go to the forest.’
My breath hitches. ‘Pardon?’
‘You heard me: you will find Brixi in the forest. The piper gave us that much before he . . .’ Her hand makes a motion that implies something rather fatal. ‘. . . when my Beast finished questioning our guest. Come now, Kit. What did you think was going to happen? That we were going to have high tea and entertain him until he gave up what he knew out of free will?’ She sighs as if she can’t believe my stupidity. ‘You know the place. You’ve visited it often enough.’
‘Did you know about Brixi, that he was the one behind this? That he was one of the Faceless, when you gave us this job?’
‘The Faceless are as much a fairy tale to us as we are to your human children, Blackhart. The servants of the Old Gods died away when they were banished. With no masters left, their brand of servitude was no longer required.’
I find it interesting that she’s not actually answered the question I asked her. Both Aiden and I start forward to ask more questions, but Suola flicks her fingers towards Melusine. ‘They’re done now. Have them shown out.’
Melusine walks up to us and herds us away from the throne.
‘Excuse me.’ Dante, clueless boy, steps past Melusine to face Suola. Her thus-far-immobile guards act immediately, swinging their halberds forwards, the points preventing him from advancing. ‘I’m sorry, I just have a question for you.’ He falters under her steady gaze. ‘Your majesty.’
Melusine reaches back and lays a heavy hand on his arm. ‘Come, she is done with you.’
‘No, no, Melusine, let’s hear what he has to say. Just look how earnest he is, the confused young thing. What is your question?’
‘Do you know who my mother is?’
Aiden’s grip tightens on my arm and I try to shake it off. What was Dante thinking, asking Suola a question like that? Did he even have anything to pay her with if she decided to answer? I do a mental calculation of the things I have on me but I come up empty. It didn’t occur to me, stupidly, to grab any of the baggies of jewels we have at home to use as gifts when dealing with the Fae.
‘I do know. What will you give in exchange? Will you join my Court for my answer? Swear allegiance to me?’
Aiden mutters something under his breath and lets go of my arm so he can walk up beside Dante and stop him from making a really big mistake. ‘We weren’t fully prepared for our visit this morning, your majesty. Dante can only offer you this minor trinket for your favour.’
He drops a small velvet pouch onto the outstretched blade of the halberd that a guard has turned sideways to accept the gift.
Suola nods towards one of her robed Fae courtiers. The man moves fluidly and palms the velvet pouch. With his back turned, he seems to be examining the contents.
‘Well? What is it?’
In answer he holds out a glinting diamond, maybe the size of my thumbnail, between his thumb and forefinger.
Suola makes an impatient gesture that I can’t quite read. Is she annoyed because Aiden saved Dante from owing her a favour, or is she merely irritated because we’re taking up more of her time?
‘Very well, I will answer your question, although I don’t think it will serve you greatly. Your mother was a Japanese kami, boy. A Sidhe noble and princess in her own right. She died not long after you were born.’
Dante opens his mouth to ask more but Aiden spins him around and starts walking him out; I hurry to keep up. Our footsteps echo in the large room and I lift the collar of my jacket higher, not liking the chill air I can feel brushing across the nape of my neck.
‘Thank you for coming,’ Melusine says behind us as we walk into the smaller anteroom. ‘Tay here will show you out.’
Our previous Fae escort is waiting for us. His features are impassive as he hands us our weapons and takes us through the house with its echoing empty rooms. It’s only when we’re standing outside on the pavement, blinking against the early morning brightness, that I catch my breath properly.
‘I need coffee,’ Aiden says before I can. ‘And maybe even whisky.’
I shrug and follow him as he turns, keeping his arm around Dante, who looks as if he’s going to be physically ill.
Otherwhere, the Tower at the End of the World
‘You were gone for two days.’
It was both an accusation and a statement of fact, in case he wasn’t aware of the fact that he had slipped her taloned clutches for a small period of time. Thorn sprawled in his chair and watched his tutor pace.
The frosty facade she’d displayed during all their previous arguments was gone. She was practically pulsing with anger and, yes, possibly even concern. It surprised Thorn, but he watched her struggle to contain her temper.
‘Two days!’ She spun and scowled at him. ‘Where did you go?’
‘I went riding.’
‘And?’
‘And nothing.’ He frowned at her. ‘I thought you were able to watch me wherever I went. That nothing was hidden from you.’
‘You try my patience, Thorn.’
The smile he gave her was a mere twist of his lips. ‘What do you want me to say, Odalis? For the first time in months I had complete freedom. I rode, sat out beneath the stars and breathed fresh air.’
She moved things on the table in front of her. The pens and paper. Shuffling them and then spacing them neatly out once more. Small touches, calming herself, bringing order to her universe.
‘You must understand, my prince, that if anything happened to you it would be on my head.’
‘What would happen to me, Odalis? Really? I’d like to know.’
‘You could have been taken.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘That has failed before.’
‘This time they might be more successful. You don’t have your little human friend to help you. Who knows if she’d ever find out if something did happen to you.’
He looked coldly at her. ‘She would know.’
‘Really? And pray tell me, how would she know?’
Thorn rose and stood to his full height and scowled down at the older woman.
‘This is a poor way of fishing, Odalis. If you want to know if I am in touch with her, ask me.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes. And neither you nor my father can prevent it.’
‘You toy with your future and hers. You know your attention puts her in danger, do you not? Your father has plans, Thorn.’
‘You have assured me of this. I have seen them too.’ He adds as an afterthought: ‘Among other things.’
‘You saw it?’ She looked shocked. ‘You never said anything.’
‘Why should I? I may still be in training, my lady, but my gifts of foreknowledge and true sight have come some way since I was forced to move here.’ He looked bitter. ‘I suppose I have to thank you for your tutoring skills.’
She brushed his words aside impatiently. ‘What e
lse have you seen or heard?’
Thorn smiled a smile he was sure the wolf boy Aiden would approve. It was one full of self-confidence and no little arrogance.
‘You are merely my tutor, Lady Firesky. My visions are mine and mine alone. And of course my father’s, if he deigns to remember I’m more than just a pawn in his power play with the other rulers of the Otherwhere.’
Odalis’s expression was thoughtful as she watched him. ‘You’ve become a dangerous young man.’
‘If I am to be judged by the rulers of the Otherwhere, Lady Firesky, I need to be sure to keep their secrets safe, surely?’
Thorn left without a further word, quietly shutting the study door behind him and leaving her to her thoughts. He had taken a few paces before the sound of something heavy crashing to the floor in the room behind him halted him briefly and he caught the startled gaze of a young page standing nearby, waiting to be called. He shook his head.
‘Give her some time,’ he advised the girl. ‘She’s not feeling too well right now.’
A quick satisfied expression flitted across her face before she inclined her head. ‘As you say, guardian.’
The formal use of his title startled Thorn and he looked at her more closely.
‘You are Lord Belton’s . . . ?’
‘His youngest granddaughter, guardian. My name is Lonia.’ She was well spoken and young, maybe nine or ten. She was wary of him; heaven knew she had cause. Over these past months the increasing pressure of his foreseeing had led to temperamental outbursts, called massive storms which centred on the tower, and led to furious arguments with Odalis. Yet the page was brave enough to show her dislike for Odalis in front of him. He liked that she had that spark of rebellion, and suddenly felt he might have an ally.