“But we must make peace with her, sooner or later. She is the Horned King,” I repeated.
“Makes sense to me,” Pittaluga said. “But I think we’ve got one problem that’ll bite us in the ass if we don’t do something about it.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“Chain of command,” he told me. “You’re in charge, but that’s only because we put you in charge. Someone can argue, could push back, could change their minds.”
He shook his head.
“Only one solution I see.”
The rest of the fae around me clearly understood what Archie Pittaluga was going for. I didn’t…not until they knelt.
Pittaluga knelt first, bowing his head as he spoke words as ancient as the fae themselves, if translated through a dozen languages along the way.
“I swear you Fealty, Lord Calebrantson. My sword is yours. My life is yours. My will is yours. Twice and thrice I swear you Fealty, obedience and honor unto death.”
Even Damh Coleman had never sworn me Fealty. I’d been placed in command of him and, like most nobles of the Hunt, I’d relied on the chain of command.
Now he swore Fealty with the rest and I could feel the ancient two-way bond of our people settling into my soul as eleven Hunters pledged me their lives and swords.
“Thrice sworn, I cannot thrice deny,” I told them. “I accept your oaths, your lives and swords. I swear I will honor your trust and serve our shared sacred oath.”
And if I didn’t…it wouldn’t matter. Fealty was almost impossible to break. Their lives were mine now.
Damn.
37
Returning to the house in Calgary was almost comedic. Mary and Raja were out of the building to greet me almost immediately—and were both shocked to silence at the continuing parade of Hunters and Companions pouring out of the Between.
“Raja, please tell me that we have that new space in the basement set up as a barracks,” I said plaintively. “And that we have at least one more of those prefabs. I brought some friends home, as you can see.”
Mary shook her head and kissed me before my subordinate could respond.
“We’ve moved Raja’s people into the basement, yes,” she told me. “We’ve only got the one prefab building, but I bet Eric can conjure another couple from his stores if you ask.”
“Then I guess I’d better find my phone again,” I admitted. “There’s a hundred and six people coming, if you’re trying to count,” I told them. “They’re…uh…mine?”
“Did Ankaris assign you new support?” Raja asked. “I can see the logic.”
“No.” I sighed. “Ankaris is dead. The Masked Lords killed him. His successor and I had a difference of opinion.”
“You’re going to have to tell me later,” Mary interjected. “It looks like I need to go play administrator and find people beds. You owe me,” she said warningly, then kissed me and strode off to take charge.
“The Horned King is dead,” Raja echoed. “And a hundred of his people are here. You had an interesting few days in Europe, I see. I can feel the links of Vassalage, you know.”
That would have been a non sequitur, but I knew why he was saying it.
“All of the troop captains and the Guardian,” I confirmed. “Roughly half of the Wild Hunt has sworn me Fealty. I’m not quite sure what to do with that.”
The asura turned to study the surprisingly organized crowd on our front lawn.
“‘Half,’” he repeated. “There are only a hundred fae here, Lord Kilkenny. The Hunt should be hundreds.”
“They’re dead, Raja,” I told him. “The Masked Lords stormed Tír fo Thuinn. They killed Ankaris and shattered the Hunt. The new King then managed to cause a schism in the Hunt.” I gestured around.
“These are the ones who followed me, who weren’t willing to accept the King having the power of life and death over his Hunters.”
Raja arched an eyebrow at me.
“He doesn’t?” he asked.
“No. There are long, long traditions around the authority the Horned King has, but randomly executing people who talk back is not on the list,” I told him. “But Grainne Silverstar is the Horned King…and half of her Hunt has sworn Fealty to me.”
Raja chuckled.
“I believe you were warned that you would gather a court to you,” he reminded me. “I don’t think anyone expected you to steal the Wild Hunt.”
“Behave, Raja,” I said under my breath. “These people have seen their friends, brothers, commanders, massacred. You of all people…”
“I know,” he allowed, with a small nod. “I understand. The Masked Lords are assembling quite an account that needs to be balanced.”
“The spear will help.” I hefted the weapon, feeling its wood warm in my hands. “Beyond that…I need to know my enemy, Raja, and I’m getting really frustrated with being one step behind.”
“I am yours to command, my lord,” he told me. “But I don’t know fae politics. My involvement in them has always been rather…specifically targeted.”
“I need to talk to my Queen.”
I’d tried phoning her before we’d left Scotland, but no one had answered. Now that I had my wayward and heavily-armed sheep somewhere we were safe, it was time to start trying more…energetic methods of communication.
I tried the phone again first. It was worth a shot, after all.
This time, it didn’t even go unanswered. I went straight to a voice mailbox. One that was full. I wasn’t entirely surprised by that, at least.
To my knowledge, Mabona used cellphones like many people’s parents: she made and answered calls on it and that was it. She wasn’t necessarily behind on technology—fae lived too long to truly get set in their ways—but I knew she didn’t check her voicemail.
The next step was conferencing software via the Fae-Net. I had contacts for both Mabona and her chief of staff, the Vassal responsible for coordinating her schedule. I didn’t have Win Jernigan’s phone number, but I could reach her by email and videoconference.
Except today. The software calmly told me that neither was available. My messages hung in limbo and I checked a different screen.
Unlike many mortal websites, Fae-Net sites and software were built for fae, and we were two things at the best of times: utterly melodramatic and rigidly hierarchical. There was no way that I could see, for example, when Mabona had last been on the conferencing software.
I could, however, see when Win Jernigan had last logged on.
I looked at the GMT timestamp for a long time, at least twenty or thirty seconds, while I did mental math.
It could not be coincidence that the woman responsible for handling the correspondence and scheduling of the Queen of the Fae had gone offline less than fifteen minutes after Ankaris had been attacked.
It had to be, though, didn’t it? Nothing that had happened to Ankaris, even in his fortified home base, should have affected Mabona, wherever she was hiding.
Something was very wrong.
I closed my eyes and focused on a spot inside of myself that I usually tried to ignore. I was mostly comfortable with the various aspects of being a Vassal at this point, but the direct link between my soul and Mabona was still creepy to me.
I had once been warned that if I tried to ignore one of my Liege’s commands, I would find myself still acting in pursuit of it unconsciously. The link between Vassal and Liege was a deep one, and one I now knew both sides of.
Through that link, Mabona could know if I was injured. Where I was. What I was doing.
The return link wasn’t as powerful. It required focus and I usually tuned it out. Right now, I was realizing that might have been a critical mistake.
Testing the link was nerve-wracking. It was still there; I confirmed that quickly. I was reasonably sure I’d have known if Mabona was dead, but I was starting to think I might have missed anything less than that.
Once I’d established it still existed, I sent a mental query, the equivalent along this ch
annel of a knock.
Nothing. No response.
Mabona was there, but she wasn’t responding to my attempts to communicate.
Unthinkingly, I picked up Esras from where I’d laid the spear down, and placed it across my lap. With my hands on it and calling on the ancient weapon’s energy, I reached down the link again.
This level of intrusiveness was, for lack of a better word, rude. If I’d tried to do this while Mabona was conscious and aware, I’d get yelled at at the very least.
I forced the connection open from my side, linking my mind to my Queen’s more closely than we’d ever done before. I could feel her wounds, the bone-deep exhaustion that had dragged her into unconsciousness.
She was in a coma. Not a deep one, I didn’t think, but I wasn’t a doctor or a Healer. She hadn’t been physically injured, though. It was a mental wound, one that had struck at her essence.
At her Power. The link to the greater reality that underpinned everything, the link that made her the next thing to a god walking the earth…and also her link to the rest of the High Court.
“Powers that are,” I whispered.
The Masked Lords had used Ankaris’s link to the rest of the High Court to attack them through him. That was why he hadn’t died instantly. They hadn’t even been attacking him, not really. They’d been using him as a conduit, and the process had eventually killed him.
There was a touch of awareness to Mabona’s mind, the sleeping goddess whose edges I was probing. A tiny portion of her presence touched me, an injured owner reaching out to pet the dog who was watching over them in their infirmity.
That wasn’t exactly a reassuring metaphor.
There was a need to that awareness, too. There was warmth and recognition in it; she knew I was there, but there was a calling.
My Queen needed me…but she’d distorted the link when she’d gone into hiding. I’d managed to make a connection with her, but I couldn’t find her. I doubted I was the only Vassal getting her vague message, her sleeping cry for our help.
But only the Vassals already with her knew where she was. I had no way of locating her. I wasn’t strong enough to pierce the veils of a Power…
Esras warmed under my fingers in response to that thought, and I chuckled.
“Just how aware of what’s going on around you are you?” I wondered aloud. The closest thing to a response I got was a sense of puppylike eagerness to help.
I shook my head and called even more deeply on the weapon’s power. I focused my strength along a link that wasn’t designed to hold that much energy, trying to shine a light through a veil that was meant to frustrate exactly what I was trying to do.
The veil resisted me. My push scattered the sleeping awareness I’d touched. For a moment, I struggled against the sleeping power of a god.
Then the half-dreaming awareness I’d connected with returned. The fragment of Mabona that was aware didn’t control her power. It couldn’t turn off the veil…but it could help me pierce it.
A god’s mind fought itself to help me make the connection I needed to. I didn’t think it was going to be enough, and then it was. A tiny gap opened in the veil Mabona had woven to protect herself, and I had a full connection with her for the first time since she’d gone into hiding.
I knew where she was. I knew she was injured, defenseless.
For all that I had become, for all that I had learned of my father and all the fealties that had been sworn to me, I remained a Vassal of the Queen of the Fae.
And that meant there was only one thing I could do.
38
Mary was waiting for me when I stepped out of the darkened conference room. She’d pulled up a chair, but it didn’t look like she’d been there very long—if for no other reason than because she was leaning on a pillow but was still awake.
“I know that look,” she told me as she straightened. “You were looking for Mabona?”
“She’s in a coma,” I replied. “I know that…and where she is. That’s all. I don’t think she’s currently in danger, but…”
“But if your Queen is injured and unconscious, she’s in danger. What do you need, love?”
“How are we doing with the horde?” I asked her. “Thank you for taking that on.”
“Eric is on his way. He says he’s got another pair of those prefab army barracks in his Between storage, so that will give us enough space. I borrowed a bunch of pickups from the Clan and have sent people all over town shopping for beds, so we’ll have somewhere for folk to sleep by nightfall.”
My sense of time was completely thrown at this point. I’d jumped time zones forward and backward twice in the last five days.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Fourish,” she replied. “You look shattered, Jason. Are you planning on going out yourself?”
“She’s nearby,” I said. “In the mountains, I think. She’s shrouded the world around her—I can’t localize her tightly and without a beacon I can’t walk Between to her.
“I need a car, a map, and someone more familiar with the mountains than me.”
“You’ve got me, so that’ll cover the last one,” Mary said with a chuckle. “I think we’ve got maps somewhere, and your Escalade is in the garage.” She studied me. “You’re not driving it, though.”
That was a very firm executive decision, and I looked up at her.
“You look shattered, Jason,” she repeated. “I’m not going to try and tie you to the bed or anything like that—tempting as that idea is on a few levels—but you are damn well not driving a car.
“We’ll find your location on the map, grab a couple of somebodies to ride shotgun, and then you can navigate while I drive.”
I exhaled a long sigh. I knew when not to argue with my girlfriend…and she was right.
“You’re right.” I repeated the sentiment aloud. “Let’s find that map, then we’ll grab Raja and one of your wolves. I want the Hunters to sleep. It’s been a rough few days for them.”
“And we may end up calling them up into the mountains?” Mary suggested.
“Exactly. I don’t know what’s going on, but having a hundred-plus people who can make it to wherever through the Between on short notice…that’s a reassuring backup.”
“All right.” She led me through the house to a filing cabinet and pulled out a map of the area around the city, laying it out on a table. “We’re here.” She tapped the map.
“Then…” I studied the map for a few seconds, poking at the feeling in my head. “Can I get a pencil?” I asked absently.
Mary had one in my hand almost before I’d finished speaking. If I survived the next few days, it was going to be because I’d managed to fall in love with the right wildcat shifter when I’d arrived in the city.
I drew a long line on the map, starting at where Mary had indicated we were. It cut northwest at a sharp angle and into the mountains, well north of the resort communities I was vaguely aware of.
“Along this line,” I told her. “Around…a hundred miles. Plus or minus ten or twenty.”
I’d learned the strange mix of metric and imperial units the Canadians used, but for something this instinctive, I went back to what I’d grown up with.
“A hundred and sixty kilometers or so.” She studied the map. “That puts us around the Sawback and Vermilion ranges. There’s not much out there, but we might be able to swing around on the back roads.”
“Let’s plug the best we can into the GPS and go hunting,” I replied. “I’m guessing a private hunting lodge or something similar. It’ll have power, but probably satellite internet and phones. Might not even be on the map.”
“The road should be,” Mary told me. “We’ll find her, Jason.”
And if we found her, I could throw up a beacon my people could use to navigate Between to us.
Eric and Raja were standing by the front entrance as we came up from the main area on the bottom floor. The two couldn’t have been more of a study in contrast, the
perpetually shirtless asura warlord towering over the heavily dressed and bearded gnome.
Eric was also the only person of my close acquaintance who was of roughly the same age as the old asura. The Keeper had been many things before he settled down in the service of the fae as a whole.
“You’re heading out,” Eric greeted me. It wasn’t a question.
“I think I’ve located Mabona,” I told him. “We can’t take everyone out there, not without attracting more attention than we can afford, and her defenses will prevent us traveling there Between without a beacon to guide the exact way.”
“Are you up for this, Kilkenny?” the gnome asked, studying my face.
“Mary’s driving,” I admitted. “I might sleep, at least until we hit the mountains.”
“Good call. I assume you’re not going alone?”
I chuckled.
“Is everyone going to mother me while I try and run this army I suddenly acquired?” I asked.
“Training new Nobles and Lords is literally part of my job, Jason,” Eric pointed out. “And so is keeping you alive.”
“If you’ve found the Queen, I’m coming with you.”
I looked up to see Kristal stepping through the door. Kristal Sayer and the rest of the nymphs assigned to guard me had been summoned to other duties before I’d left Calgary. And yet here she was.
“You didn’t go anywhere, I see,” I noted.
“We were supposed to be met at the London airport with orders and tickets,” she told me. “No one showed. We hung around in Heathrow for a day, then I decided we may as well come back here.”
She snorted.
“I hope someone is still going to be paying off my credit card. Emergency flights are not cheap.”
“We’ll take care of it if we can’t get back in touch with the Queen’s support structure,” Mary promised. I glanced at her in surprise and she laughed.
Noble's Honor (Changeling Blood Book 3) Page 20