A Sliver of Shadow

by Allison Pang

  Jimmy coughed hard, his piggy eyes streaming. “I’ve brought ye a guest, mistress. She’s one of Talivar’s. I’ve got to go.” He gave me an apologetic shrug. “Allergies.”

  The fox-woman smiled, lips closed. “I’ll see to it, Jimmy.” The words rang out in a crisp tone, clearly not meant to be defied.

  Jimmy coughed again. “Luck,” he whispered and slipped out the front of the tent before I had a chance to ask him anything else. I felt a momentary sense of panic, wondering if I’d be able to find my way back to the wagon.

  “Sit,” the fox-woman commanded, one delicate hand sweeping out toward a square pillow opposite from her.

  I weighed my options for a moment and then carefully sank into the pillow. We sat there in silence, the minutes ticking by. Outside, the sounds of the busy street faded until it seemed as though the world had shrunk to only this little space. The candle flame guttered and I noticed a steaming cup of tea directly in front of the woman.

  “I would offer you some, but you would not drink it.” She picked up the cup with both hands and sipped it slowly.

  I raised a brow. She was right on that account, anyway. “No.”

  “Why have you come?”

  “I should think that was rather obvious,” I said dryly. “Seeing as you know Jimmy brought me.”

  Her eyes flickered with impatience. “Why are you here?”

  “What is your name?” I countered. Quid pro quo and all that.

  “Kitsune is what you named me in your mind. That will do for now.”

  “That is what you are, not who.” She remained quiet, sipping her tea as though I hadn’t spoken. I ground my teeth together. “I’m stuck,” I said finally. “I don’t know how to get home and I don’t know how to get to Faerie. I’ve got … a message for the Queen.”

  She let out an eerie bark of laughter like a fox yipping and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. “The Queen, is it? I do not think you will find what you are looking for there.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, unwilling to mention much more. It wasn’t her business anyway. Something warm brushed my face and I glanced down to see that a small cup sat before me now as well.

  “Drink,” Kitsune insisted. “It’s a healing tonic. Very strong medicine.”

  “And what? I become your slave for the next two hundred years? I don’t think so.” I pushed the cup away gently. “All I want is to find the Crippled Prince.”

  She stared hard into her cup. “Are you sure that is all you seek?”

  “Of course not,” I said wryly. I didn’t like the way she was twisting the request. “Besides, what difference does it make? The prince, a way out of here, and a chance to find the woman who betrayed us. That’s all I seek right now.” My thoughts tumbled over an image of Ion for a moment.

  Kitsune reached down at her side and pulled out a small spool of red thread. “Destiny weaves as it will and the path to your goals may not be as direct as you’d like.”

  I huffed a sigh and pushed to my feet. “Esoteric words of wisdom don’t impress me. And I’ve had enough of destiny to last the next few lifetimes, so you’ll forgive me if I decide I don’t want to be a part of it.”

  “You cannot outrun what is faster than you.” She thrust the spool into my hands. “When you leave here, simply roll the thread upon the ground and it will take you to your heart’s desire.” At my snort of disbelief, her ears flattened. “No one will bother you if you follow the thread. Interfering in another’s destiny is … unwise.” The last part was said with an exceptionally feral grin, her teeth clipping hard upon each word. I caught the faint outline of a fox muzzle overlapping her mouth, nearly superimposed upon her face, but it was gone before I could truly see it.

  “And why would you do this? Help me, that is? Color me skeptical for not believing you’re doing this out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “There are some here who would see the Crippled Prince upon the throne. Whether that is good or bad, I cannot say but I do recognize the Key when I see it, and I would not have it fall into the hands of someone who might force the issue.” Her golden gaze dropped to my neck and my face flushed. “It’s not nearly as well guarded as it ought to be,” she said, her eyes suddenly sly. “It could be that you’re not its true mistress.”

  “Nothing I wanted to be,” I agreed. “And I thought Talivar couldn’t rule?”

  Kitsune folded her hands neatly upon her lap, seeming to diminish before my words. “It all depends on which kingdom you speak of. As you will, then. May you find what you seek.”

  I clutched at the spool and gave an awkward bow, unsure what else to say. When I looked up, a large vixen sat where she’d been, the grin still pasted eerily across her lips. She let out a soft yip.

  “That’s what she said,” I muttered, emerging into the relative hustle of the Lower Crescent. The lingering scent of ginger chased me up the row like a mocking roll of laughter. I shivered, clutching my backpack a little tighter. At least it masked the fetid odor of dung.

  I glanced down at my hand with the thread. Now or never I supposed. I stopped, waiting as a daddy longlegs shuffled by, ridden by a pair of pill bugs. Feeling like a complete ass, I took the end of the thread and tossed the spool onto the ground.

  Where it did nothing.

  “Fabulous.” Soft snickers came from the nearby stalls. Fuck it anyway. I’d find my own way to my destiny … whatever that was. Unless the spool was insinuating that it lay here, but judging by the way some people seemed to be packing up I had to wonder. “Just get me out of here,” I said finally, blinking in surprise when the spool jerked upright and began to roll forward.

  Still holding the end of the thread, I limped behind it bemusedly as it picked up speed and disappeared into the busy crowd, slicing through the earth like a crimson sash. I hoped no one would step on it. Before long I was back where I started, but the spool didn’t stop there, slithering down row after row until I began to suspect it was toying with me.

  I let out a snarl, frustration tensing my jaw. For a brief moment I wished I was still TouchStoned to Brystion. The incubus had always had a major talent for finding me before. I could have sat in that ’shroom cart all day and waited for him to sweep me into some sort of gallant rescue.

  “Waste of time wishing for nothing,” I said to myself. I leaned heavily on my good leg, resting beside the last of the stalls. The thread was leading me toward a steep hill. A string of horses was tied to a series of poles below, surrounded by a primitive paddock. I was no judge of horseflesh, but even I could recognize the sleek musculature shivering between the glossy coats as the sign of what could only be magnificent animals. I gave their backsides a wide berth, even while admiring the curved haunches and the smartly polished hooves.

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I said when the last of the spool ran out right before I reached the horses. Surely I wasn’t supposed to just steal one and Lady Godiva my way out of here?

  “Brilliant creatures, aren’t they?”

  I stiffened, glancing up in surprise to see Tresa standing beside me. She’d found some new clothes, or at least a new cloak, the sable wool wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She still looked the worse for wear, I noted with a tinge of satisfaction as I took in the tangled mess of her hair and the swelling bruise on her chin. Her cheeks pinched inward when she saw me looking. “I owe you for that,” she murmured, rubbing it with a self-conscious glare.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped. “You’re the reason we’re all in this damn mess.”

  She let out a humorless chuckle. “Am I? It was not my idea to shut the CrossRoads down, nor mine to banish the Lesser Fae from Faerie. Ask your precious prince to tell you about the true extent of his mother’s madness. If not for her, none of us would be in this mess.”

  “I doubt you’ve made things any better.” Reservation gnawed at my belly. She still seemed far too rational to be some mere revolutionary.

  “There’s a war coming,” the Fae woman
continued, “and there’s not a one of you who will be left standing by the time it’s through.”

  “And I’m sure once Maurice gives you whatever he promised you this place will become a land of sunshine and happiness, right? Lollipop guilds and all? You’re the one who’s mad if you think that asshole will give you anything other than a quick death.”

  She looked away. “He has my son.”

  Sympathy struck me at her words, but something still wasn’t adding up here. I understood the mama-bear concept fine—after all, if someone were to take Benjamin, there probably wasn’t much I wouldn’t do to get him back—and that was before I knew I was actually related. But still. “So you decided to betray your people? Besides, last I heard Maurice was still in prison. How could he have taken your son?”

  Her head snapped up, her nostrils flaring. “Do you think I lie?”

  “You can’t lie. I get that, but you sure as hell can choose not to answer an entire question. I call bullshit. Why not go to the Queen?”

  “You understand nothing,” she said bitterly, going very still. “There’s still time. Give me the Key and I may be able to right things. Maurice would take it as a trade, I’m sure of it.”

  My hand touched the amulet as though to reassure myself that it was still actually there. “I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It won’t come off.” Something I was terribly grateful for at the moment. The thought of Maurice with such a talisman didn’t bear thinking about.

  Her mouth tightened. “Pity.” She moved forward, her feet squelching in the mud, though her limbs were shadow-swift. I spun, wincing as her fingers snagged my hair. I swung wide with my fist, the sting of my knuckles acknowledging that I’d made contact. My knee screamed in rebellion and I knew I wasn’t going to win this. Time to regroup.

  Ducking into the herd of horses, I slapped them on the rumps as I passed, narrowly avoiding being kicked.

  “You can’t outrun me,” Tresa jeered, sliding between their legs.

  “No,” I agreed. “But they can.” The piebald mare in front of me reared when I jerked hard on her lead rope. Tresa chuckled.

  “Foolish girl. You think the Sidhe leave their pretty ponies tied with anything so mundane as mortal rope? It cannot be undone by any save the owner.”

  Well, shit. I tugged again on the rope. The knot certainly looked as though the slack would simply fall out, but it remained steadfast. The mare snapped at me, her ears slanted back. “Hell with this.” I whipped out the iron dagger, half intending to throw it at the woman.

  A roan stallion began to buck and I heard shouts from up on the hill. I glanced up to a cluster of elven men running toward us. Tresa continued to advance, pulling a stout walking stick from beneath her cloak.

  On impulse I slashed at the rope attached to the mare, blinking as it began to smoke. A moment later there was a snapping sound. The mare wheeled and took off, her unshod hooves making dull thuds as she galloped away.

  “Iron to break a Glamour,” I breathed, rushing to cut the other ropes. If nothing else, I could cause a distraction, but best case I might even manage to ride one out.

  Tresa snarled at me when she saw the dagger. “Cheater,” she hissed.

  “Yeah, well.” I cut through another set of ropes. “I don’t pretend to be anything else.” By now, the horses were a squealing mass of rolling eyes and heaving sides, clearly uncomfortable at having two random strangers weaving between them. A stallion nipped Tresa hard on the forearm, and she let out a high-pitched scream.

  “Abby!”

  Talivar? I swung toward the voice, my knees going weak with relief as the prince vaulted over the outer fencing. I waved frantically at him as something slammed into my shoulder. Off-balance, my arms windmilled and I fell to the ground, Tresa pressing me facedown into the dirt.

  I scrabbled in the mud, pulling my good knee up beneath me to try to roll out from under her. One arm wrenched free and snatched something soft. Her hair? Without thinking I yanked hard, concentrating on causing pain as opposed to any sort of logistical tactic. My eyes rolled sideways between the rush of horse legs, catching no sign of Talivar. A sizeable crowd had gathered at the edges of the paddock, looking none too pleased at the situation as several of the horses barreled through the gate and up the hill.

  “Thief!” Tresa called suddenly. “Horse thief! She’s cutting the ropes with an iron blade!”

  An angry rumble started up and I began to struggle in earnest. Tresa alone I might be able to escape, but a furious mob of Fae were another thing altogether.

  Did the Fae hang their horse thieves? I had no doubt I wouldn’t get much chance to explain myself. Tresa disappeared into the dust, ducking beneath the wheeling punch of an elven blacksmith. “Good enough for the goose and gander.” I jerked back as fire lanced through my fingertips. Someone was grinding my fingers together. The knife fell from my hand as I tried to roll away, wriggling out of another’s elf’s grasp.

  Not fast enough.

  Immediately, my arm was jacked up behind my back, my legs swept out from under me.

  “Stop moving,” grunted my captor, bending my wrist to emphasize the point. I bit back a yelp and did as I was told, turning my face so that I wasn’t breathing dirt.

  “Let her go,” Talivar commanded, striding over to where I lay. He yanked the other elf off and gingerly helped me stand.

  “My lord, she was stealing the horses.”

  “She was doing no such thing,” the prince snapped, wrapping his cloak around me, his leather armor creaking. “The lady is my TouchStone and will not be treated as a common criminal, is that understood?” His eye narrowed when he saw Tresa struggling in the arms of two other elves. “That one, however, is another matter.”

  Tresa jerked her head upright. “Sanctuary,” she cried, her eyes glittering with desperation. “I call sanctuary.”

  “And I deny it,” the prince said, gesturing at his men to tie her up.

  “Sanctuary here is not yours to grant or deny, my lord prince.” Kitsune’s words swept past us like a breeze made of iron. “As well you know.” The others parted for the fox-woman, standing aside and lowering their heads as she passed, her tail swaying gracefully.

  “She’s a traitor to the realm, and has conspired to harm my sister’s child.”

  Kitsune waved her hand at him impatiently. “And what concern is that to me? How quickly you’ve forgotten the rules, Talivar.” She reached up to pat his cheek. “It was not so long ago when you claimed the same.”

  He exhaled slowly. “No, my lady, and I was grateful for your protection.”

  “Would you have me deny another’s?”

  Tresa smirked at this, pulling her arms free as Talivar nodded toward his men.

  “No.” He turned to Tresa, his face impassive. “Should you enter Faerie proper, your life is forfeit to me.”

  Tresa spat at the ground. “It will never happen. The land itself has cast me out.” She raised her wrist to reveal a gaping wound, blood pulsing beneath a pustulant scab. “The thorns contain a slow poison … as you know,” she added slyly. Talivar’s jaw twitched at her words and I took his hand.

  Kitsune raised a finger. “We’re not done here yet. I require justice for the loss of my horses.”

  Shit. “But I didn’t steal them.”

  “And yet, they are gone. Released by you.”

  “Some destiny,” I muttered, but I couldn’t fault her logic. I had cut them free. Didn’t mean I wanted to die for it.

  “The prince, a way out of here, and a chance to find the woman who betrayed you.” Kitsune cocked her head at me. “Isn’t that what you asked for?”

  “What bargain did you make, Abby?” Talivar stared at me.

  “She gave me a thread. A red spool of thread. I was supposed to follow it.” I flushed. “What the hell else was I going to do?”

  “Argue later,” the fox-woman said with a sigh, clapping her hands twice in rapid succession. Immediately two dapple gray horses appeared fro
m the remainder of the herd, flanks gleaming with sweat. Kitsune’s mouth twitched. “I offer you this choice, my prince. Consider it an opportunity to assuage your potential losses of today.”

  Tresa’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve granted me sanctuary. I’m not under his jurisdiction anymore.”

  “No,” Kitsune said sharply, her ears flattening. “Now you’re under mine. And you chose to attack this woman in the midst of my horses, leading to their escape.”

  “But—”

  “And what is it we’re doing here?” I interrupted, confused. Was I going to be dragged behind them?

  “Each of you shall mount one and head off in different directions.” Kitsune’s smile turned feral. “Whichever of you the prince chooses to pursue, he can keep.”

  “And the other?” I was almost afraid to ask, not daring to look at Talivar. It was a shit decision to have to trade me for his enemy but that didn’t mean I wanted the alternative either.

  “Belongs to me, of course. A pity you didn’t drink the tea when I offered it. Then I would be honor bound to seek recompense for the attack upon you.” She yipped in that high-pitched bark again, laughing when the men lifted a panicked Tresa toward the first horse. The elf coldly stared at the fox-woman as she seated herself with as much dignity as she could. Kitsune turned to me. “I’ll allow Talivar to do the honors.”

  He sighed, cupping my chin so that he could meet my eyes. “I will find you, Abby. I promise. Can you ride?”

  “Uh, no. Not since the pony ride at my seventh birthday. Where are Mel and Phin?”

  “Safe enough. We’ll meet up with them later.” He gave me a tight smile and a leg up onto the beast. I barely had time to settle myself before Kitsune let out another barking laugh.

  “Off you go.”

  “Off I wha—” I tumbled forward, my mouth full of horse hair. I snatched at the mane, my hands wrapping around the horse’s neck even as Talivar slapped it hard on the ass.

  The horse snorted in surprise. I let out a warning shout, every bone in my body rattling as we barreled through the crowd. My legs slipped out sideways and I narrowly avoided cracking my nose when it jerked its head up.