A Sliver of Shadow

by Allison Pang

  She emerged a few minutes later with a pair of socks and leather boots. They didn’t match my dress in the slightest, but they didn’t have heels either, and that more than made up for it. I’d had visions of stumping through the field, sinking into the ground every few feet. Plopping down on the ground, I slipped them both on. A bit of a tight fit near the toes, but nothing I couldn’t put up with for a few hours.

  “Right here is good, ladies.” I glanced up to see Phineas being carried upon a velvet cushion by a set of bored-looking serving girls. One of them gave me a long-suffering sigh as they set down the pillow and beat a hasty retreat.

  “I hope you weren’t too rude to them, Phin.” I propped myself up on my elbows, poking him with the toe of my boot. He made a big show of struggling to his feet, limping over to me.

  “Be nice. I was stepped on. Nearly broken beneath an ocean of clumsy feet. Battered by a wave of idiots. Crushed—”

  “—by his own overbearing pride,” Melanie interjected. “If you’d stayed by me instead of running off, none of this would have happened.”

  I picked him up and put him in my lap. “What about your horn? Can’t you heal yourself?”

  “I was saving it for you,” he said sourly. “We didn’t know if you would even still be alive after that damn stag took off with you.” He butted my belly gently, resting his head in the crook of my elbow with a sigh. “And there’s no panties to roll around in.”

  “Guess you’re out of luck then,” I sniggered. “I’m not exactly wearing any at the moment either.”

  “Well, isn’t that good to know,” a dark voice purred behind me. I froze, closing my eyes against the sound.

  “Ion.”

  Melanie bit her lip. “I didn’t know he was here until a little while ago,” she said miserably. “I was trying to come up with a way to tell you.”

  I struggled to look up at him, watching as his boots came into view at my side. I quelled the rush of nervousness that threatened to spill from my mouth, but I couldn’t quite help the guilty flush from rising into my cheeks. He was in his human form this time, wearing his old trench coat. The curved perfection of his mouth turned down he approached. The fall of his midnight hair framed the high cheekbones and familiar line of his jaw. I sucked in a ragged breath, the ache of seeing him here as opposed to the Dreaming making his beauty that much worse.

  He crouched beside me, one hand tipping my chin up to look at him for a long moment, without a hint of gold about his fathomless eyes. Anger and embarrassment roared to life within me, but I stared him down, refusing to give him the satisfaction. He took my hand, his gaze lowering to rake over the love bites at my neck, his elegant fingers stroking Talivar’s ring.

  And then he released me, standing swiftly to walk away.

  I would have known that easy saunter anywhere, but I also detected a stiffness in his posture that made a lie of it. What had I had been expecting? Hell, for that matter, what right did either of us have to expect anything at all?

  Twenty

  Talivar led us into the no-man’s-land between the two encampments, Melanie and me striding behind him. Phineas was still in my arms, lolling over my shoulder like some kind of big baby. The only reason I even allowed it was because it hid the way my hands were shaking. That and he’d healed my knee with that magic horn of his. As paybacks went, this wasn’t too bad.

  We were flanked by twelve elven warriors that I could see, their swords drawn loosely at their sides. I suspected there were quite a few others obscured from my vision, arrows nocked at the ready if this should turn out poorly.

  Of Brystion, I had seen no other sign. Talivar had taken one look at my face when he found me a short time later, his mouth twisting as Melanie told him the incubus was also in the camp. He’d given me an awkward kiss on the forehead and murmured that I shouldn’t worry, but something in his expression made me wonder if he’d already known.

  But no time to worry about that. My personal fuck-ups were going to have to wait until we got through the daemon business.

  Moira stood outside a small silver tent halfway between the camps, a white flag fluttering in the wind like a lady’s handkerchief. Wearing a resplendent dress of pale green and gold, the princess was the epitome of grace and beauty, her hair twisted in a series of elegant braids. In the distance I could see the black smoke, ugly and shadowed, rising up in a sea of oily canvas. The daemons had quite clearly made themselves at home.

  Talivar stepped forward first, placing a kiss on both of Moira’s cheeks. She frowned when she saw his shortened hair, but said nothing. The glance she sent my way probably meant there was a long discussion in my future. I opened my mouth, not sure of what I would even say, choosing to set down the unicorn instead. I took a hesitant step toward the Faery woman.

  An uncertain smile crossed her lips. “Sister,” she said finally. “It is good to see you, thus.”

  The silence stretched out into a chasm and I finally waved her off. I had my own questions, but they would have to wait. “We don’t have to go there yet,” I said, noting the momentary relief that flashed in her sea-green eyes. “Perhaps I should meet … our father first?”

  She let out a small laugh of genuine happiness. “I’d forgotten your mortal sense of practicality. It’s refreshing.”

  “Like a cold beer to the face,” I muttered. “What do we need to do here?”

  And just like that the tension broke, the five of us retreating to the small canvas shelter, the tent flaps folded open. “The daemons will not back down,” she said regretfully. “It’s a matter of saving face now. Regardless of whether the Queen’s in the wrong or not, we cannot afford to bow down to the whims of Hell simply because they wish it. As it stands, she will only release the CrossRoads if their army retreats. The daemons insist they will only retreat if she releases the CrossRoads … and so here we are.”

  “And if you hand over Maurice?”

  “It amounts to the same thing.” She shrugged, face hardening.

  Talivar shook his head. “And I assume he has given us no more information?”

  Moira stilled, her gaze dropping down to her feet. “No. And every time he is called upon by the Council, his claims become more and more outrageous.” Her nostrils flared, and I wondered what sorts of things he had insinuated about her. Somehow I suspected having one’s dirty laundry trotted out in front of the entire Court was trumped by knowing your parents were getting an earful as well. “He is determined to make the entire thing a circus … and we are merely puppets to dance at his bidding.”

  “So why not kill him and get it over with?” Melanie wondered aloud. “I mean, if he’s not going to talk, why not take the dog and pony show somewhere else?” She fixed her green eyes on us. “Like the afterlife.”

  Moira sucked hard on her lower lip, glancing at Talivar. “How much have you told them about Mother?”

  “Enough,” he said hesitantly.

  Melanie and I exchanged a look. “You think Maurice has something to do with her … illness?”

  Moira exhaled softly, her normally smooth face flawed by a deep wrinkle at her brow. “He has insinuated as much. The Court is losing patience and they are inclined to execute him for his crimes.” She shrugged helplessly. “But she is my mother. And so I am here.”

  I sobered at that. If it had been my own mother, would I have done any less?

  She gazed up at me, the ache of loss cutting deep. I reached out to grasp her hand, her delicate fingers twining tightly through mine.

  Talivar hovered behind me for a moment, arm sliding around my waist and the three of us stood there for a span of heartbeats. I closed my eyes as he rested his head upon my shoulder, his forehead pressed into Moira’s.

  Family.

  My heart jolted at the thought. It wasn’t unpleasant, simply a venture into the unknown. Phineas let out a polite cough at our feet. “Not to interrupt the whole kumbaya vibe you’ve all got going on, but maybe we ought to can the love-in for the moment. There
seems to be a contingent coming our way.”

  Abruptly, we pulled away from each other, though Talivar’s fingers lingered in my hair. Beside me, Melanie made a slightly strangled sound, whipping her violin from its case in a matter of seconds. Curious, I glanced up to see three daemons bearing down upon us.

  Two of them were hooded and cloaked, their faces masked within the shadowed darkness of something akin to black burlap. But the one in front looked like the lead singer of a J-Rock band. The low-slung leather pants would have given Brystion a run for his money in the smexy brooding department, but the sleeveless shirt and the laced arm-socks that reached midbicep catapulted him straight into visual kei. His bangs alone were a peacock’s tail of spikes that defied explanation, the rest of his artfully tousled hair cascading down his back in a hue of extravagant greens and purples. The effect was offset by a great cape sweeping behind him in an ebony wash of feathers.

  I couldn’t quite help the slow whistle from escaping my pursed lips. “Who’s the glamurai?”

  “Fallen angel,” Melanie noted, her voice trembling. “Soul eater.”

  I blinked. “Like from Death Note?”

  The daemon raised a sardonic brow at me. “Not quite.” He turned to Melanie, his expression unreadable. “Not yet. I was a sin eater once. Do you remember which of your sins I was forced to consume?”

  “Pride,” she confessed bitterly. Her foot started tapping in time and before I could ask her what she was doing, a hideous screech rang out from her violin. Aghast, she stopped, the bow hovering inches from the strings as she stared at it in horror.

  “That’s a bit against the rules, isn’t it?” The daemon gave a curt bow to Moira, his almond eyes lighting up with amusement. “Guess it’s a good thing Mumsy hasn’t reopened the CrossRoads yet. The Wild Magic is warped, I’m afraid. A bit hard to tap into its power when the flow is being blocked at both ends.” He focused on Melanie, reaching out as though he might stroke the side of the violin.

  She neatly sidestepped him and he chuckled. “Our Master wishes you to know He thinks of you often. Anytime you’d like to come home, merely say the word.”

  She retreated another step and I moved in front of her. Phineas’s horn flared with silver light at my feet. “This is not your domain, lapsus.”

  “It’s not yours either,” the daemon said pleasantly as he crouched to look at Phin. “It’s also none of your business.” His eyes slyly roamed up Melanie’s body. “None but hers and mine. Pity about your wrist, little bird. I heard we almost had you a few months ago.”

  I grabbed her arm, holding it through a rush of tremors. “This has nothing to do with why we are here,” I snapped.

  He paused, his face puzzled. I held myself steady beneath the icy brilliance of his gaze, willing myself not to flinch. “No,” he agreed, staring at my neck, “but I think you are.” He withdrew to stand with his little group, inclining his head at Moira respectfully. “It would seem I underestimated you, Princess. For here you have collected the surest single way to rule all of the Paths…. Our lovely Door Maker”—he gestured to Melanie—“and now, the Keeper of the CrossRoads.”

  “You can see it, then?” The words fell from my mouth before I could stop them. Talivar let out a hiss.

  “No, but I can bluff pretty damn well. And now you’ve confirmed it,” he added slyly. “Might want to make sure you’re well guarded. Hate to see you lose your head over such a bauble.”

  Talivar tensed behind me, but before I could do anything Melanie let out a soft sigh of reproach. “Nobu.” Just a name, and yet the air seemed to vibrate with the roll of the syllables, a distant echo of power pressing behind the words.

  The daemon stiffened, his eyes narrowing. “You dare?”

  “Put it on my tab,” she snarled at him. “I’m damned anyway.”

  “You always did have balls, Mel.” He reached out to tap her teashades. “Someday I’m going to ask for these back, you know.”

  “Yes. But not now.”

  His hand lingered in her hair for a moment, stroking down the corner of her jawline before tipping her head to the side to expose the silver mark there. Melanie tended to rub it when she got nervous, but I’d never really thought about it. Until now. “Does it still burn?”

  She glanced down at her feet. “Every day.”

  “Good.” He straightened, releasing her. “What does thou wish of me?”

  Melanie bit her lip, her eyes darting between me and the two elves. “Leave. Now. Take all of those daemons and go back to where you came from.”

  “Can’t do that, sweetheart.” A thin smile twisted his lips. “My orders come from higher up than you, I’m afraid. The most I can do is retreat for a short while.”

  “How long?”

  The daemon paused. “Three days I can grant you. If in that time no other bargain has been struck, we will be forced to come and take what is ours.” His gaze rested upon her with something like regret. “Including you.”

  “What are you doing?” I hissed at her.

  “Done.” Retreating a few steps, she picked up her fallen violin case and fled toward the cluster of tents behind us. The guards separated like a ripple of water, allowing her to pass.

  I moved to follow her, but Talivar’s hand on my wrist halted me abruptly. He shook his head. “Wait.” I shut my mouth against the questions bubbling up, the grimness of his tone the deciding factor in my sudden lack of curiosity.

  Moira’s nostrils flared. “So be it. In three days time shall our factors meet again to discuss the terms, whatever they shall be. Until then, we ask that you quit the field.”

  “Agreed.” Nobu nodded briefly at each of us in turn, his upper lip curling at me. “And don’t let me catch you using that little charm to wander where you shouldn’t be,” he added, pointing at my neck. “Or our bargain will be nullified.”

  Before I could answer, the cloak exploded into a set of midnight wings, launching Nobu skyward like a Satanic peacock. The other two daemons shrugged at each other and bowed to us before trudging back to the daemon camp. A tad anticlimactic given their companion had just made an exit straight out of an anime, but at least they were gone.

  “I don’t trust them.” Moira tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “They’ve given us their word, but they’ll twist it, for certain.”

  “I don’t get it … what did Melanie do?”

  “Names have power,” Phineas said, turning in the direction Melanie had gone.

  “It’s part of the bargain she made,” Talivar added, giving my hand a squeeze. “You’ve a power of your own, to command such loyalty from your friends.”

  My face flushed hot. “I would never have asked her to do such a thing.”

  “No,” he agreed, his face softening. “And that is why she did it.”

  I clung to Talivar, the horse moving beneath us in a rhythmic trot that threatened to vibrate the teeth from my mouth. In front of us, Moira led the procession of elven nobility to what I could only guess would be the Faerie kingdom proper. I twisted Talivar’s ring, remembering some of the more ancient tales I’d read in the Pit. Would it be real? Or would it all be a Glamour, the castle stones merely mud-covered walls and beds of leaves, wretched Fae groveling in the dirt? I hesitated to ask, not sure I really wanted to know.

  Melanie’s last actions continued to hammer through my head, distracting me from my internal angst. A quick glance found her trudging behind the procession, Brystion at her side. My heart skipped to see them both together, though they’d been friends far longer than I’d known the incubus.

  And who do you ride behind? I wondered. What do you owe him, when he left you?

  “What a fucking mess.”

  Talivar cocked his head toward me. “It could be better,” he admitted. “And the incubus … complicates things.”

  “But it shouldn’t. I’m not here for him. I’m here for you and for Moira. He and I have a history, it’s true, but that’s for us to work out.”

  “Mo
ira said he came here upon your request, but that the Queen insisted he stay to state his testimony against Maurice.” His mouth tensed. “I’m not sure he was given much of a choice. He has offered his services to us should we need a daemonic liaison in the meantime.”

  “So I’m an ass twice over,” I muttered. “Once for asking him to go, and once for …” I paused. For what? Betraying him?

  “Do you regret last night?” Talivar’s voice was gentle, a soft hush intended only for my ears. I could detect a subtle note of resignation behind it, as though he’d already made up his mind to be rejected and was steeling himself against it. A rush of anger heated my face.

  “No,” I said fiercely. “And I would not regret it if it happened again.”

  The tips of his ears pinked. “He was a fool to let you go.”

  I shrugged. Ex-boyfriends were always a touchy subject, but this was a powder keg of emotions threatening to explode. I hurried along, searching for a safer topic. “I’m more worried about Melanie right now. And Benjamin.”

  “We must see to the Queen first. If she can reopen the CrossRoads, that will enable us to move between worlds much faster. I’d rather have Robert bring the boy directly to Faerie, instead of being forced to travel to Eildon Tree if you have to open the Door locally.” He gazed out to where the daemon camp lay. “Regardless of his parentage, the boy is a prince of the Fae and an heir to the throne. We can’t risk it.”

  I peered around Talivar to watch Moira ride. Her seat was easy and graceful upon the white mare. Was she thinking about her baby? Robert? Or was everything in her head coolly assessing what was to come, full of treaties and political backlash? Clearly my newfound sister was made of stronger stuff than I.

  And still, there was Melanie. Incubus or not, she and I had to talk. I didn’t mind secrets, but there was so much more going on here than I knew. “How much farther is it?”