by Allison Pang
After all, it wasn’t as if he knew I was here. After a time the silence began to weigh on me and I debated heading back to the ballroom when I heard a soft hiccup. I froze, the rhythmic sound making me hesitate. Shit. For all I knew my father was out here “entertaining” some sort of tryst of his own. Uncharitable maybe, but it’s not like he’d been overly faithful. Both Moira and I were proof of that.
The hiccup became a sob and I peered around the edge of the rosebushes, the sandals slipping from my fingers.
My father sat on a stone bench, his arms around Moira, tucking her close to his chest. The Faery princess clung to him, weeping as though her heart was breaking. Whatever else I’d thought I was going to do or say tonight flooded hotly into my chest in a flare of jealousy until I could barely breathe.
Thomas made a soothing cluck at her. Unable to watch anymore, I fled.
I slumped in a small crescent-shaped nook off the main garden path. I’d found my way to the stairs leading to the ballroom, but I continued to wander until I discovered a quieter spot. A pool of water bubbled nearby and I availed myself of it, dipping my sore toes into its coolness. After a while Phineas stumbled upon me and curled up at my side, half dozing with his head upon my lap.
Something hot slid down my face, the salty tang of my tears brushing against the chapped dryness of my lips. I didn’t begrudge Moira her moment with our father. Heaven knew she had more than enough on her plate. It was even gratifying to see she wasn’t quite as stoic as I’d thought. Made her more human, I guess, though she didn’t show her mortal heritage that I could tell.
Still, the little girl inside of me couldn’t help but wonder why I’d been overlooked so easily. It was petty. I’d never had a dad before—it was silly to lament his absence now, but it didn’t stop the hurt.
A soft brush of fabric alerted me that someone approached, but I didn’t bother to lift my head. Easier to sit and wallow.
“Abby?” I stiffened at the light Scottish burr rolling over my name.
My father. True Thomas of Ercildune. “What do you want?” Bitterness tasted like ash on my tongue.
He made a hissing sound in his throat, carefully picking his way around the rocks of the pool to lay my discarded shoes next to me. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you?”
Now I did look up. “Picked a fine time to tell me.” His brows were drawn tightly, sadness etched upon his face, but it was the familiarity of his features that drew me more than knowing he was upset. Mirror images reflected within myself, but I didn’t care anymore.
“I know I have not earned your trust or your sympathy, but I ask you to hear me out.” Crouching beside me, he dipped one finger into the pool, watching as the ripples widened.
“The way you heard Mother out when you left her? Left us? My entire life has been a lie. I don’t even know who I am.”
“I have never regretted anything so much as leaving you,” he said softly. “Necessity compelled it.”
“Did you ever think Mom might still be alive if you had stayed with us?” My throat swelled up as I choked on the words. I hadn’t wanted to lash out like this, but I seemed unable to stop it now that the target was sitting directly in front of me. “I might never have been in that accident. I would still be a dancer. I wouldn’t have seizures. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t be here!” I winced at the sound of my own voice.
“I know. And I am truly sorry, Abby.”
“That and a quarter will buy me a bag of chips,” I snapped. I wanted to get up and pace. Unbidden, the tears came again and I glared at him. “This is all your fault.”
He flinched this time, but did not dispute it, and that pissed me off even more.
“Your mother knew who I was when we got involved,” he said finally. “And we both agreed it would be for the best if I left.”
“Best for who? Mom never told me anything about you at all. Just that you loved me.” My lips compressed. “I didn’t even have the memories of that much.”
“I wanted to protect you and your mother, and the Queen can be terrible in her fickleness. My time with you was coming to an end. I hid your memories because I didn’t want you looking for me.”
My fist slammed into the ground. “Then why did you even have me? If you love the Queen so damn much, why toy with my mother? Why cheat?”
He sighed, shifting uncomfortably. Probably not the easiest thing to discuss with one’s offspring, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to consider him family. If this was the sort of thing it got me, I’d be better off the way I was before.
Alone.
“You can love someone and not like them much,” he pointed out. I waited, but he chose not to explain further. “Every five hundred years or so, the Queen allows me seven mortal years. I will fully admit, my eye does wander from time to time. I find that the longer I remain here, the more I crave my mortality.”
“Nothing like sowing your magical wild oats.”
“In a manner of speaking, perhaps.” He shrugged. “Nothing usually comes of such unions. I didn’t stay with anyone long enough for that to be an issue.”
The thought sickened me, imagining that I had other brothers and sisters possibly roaming the world, or multitudes of cousins, all left behind on the whim of an insane Queen of another world.
“But your mother was different.” A gentle smile drifted across his ageless face. “Not since my Janet was alive so many years ago had I been so taken with a woman.” He fixed me with his eyes. “I did not want to leave you, Abby.”
“I think you’re full of shit,” I said thickly. “Talivar said the Key to the CrossRoads went missing about thirty years ago. I think you foresaw the need for it and went out and knocked up some mortal woman to use it as an excuse to leave it with her. Breeding your own savior, as it were.”
He choked out a breath. “The daemons made us an offer that would offset much of this, Abby. But it’s not one I want to contemplate. Can you blame me for trying to find another way?”
“I don’t understand any of you. Your grandson is trapped in the mortal realm. There’s a goddamned daemon army waiting to invade your lands. Your Queen is mentally ill, and you’ve got what amounts to a rival faction just itching to get her off the throne. Why wouldn’t you at least think about it?” I glared up at him. “And I don’t know what’s going on with the whole Unseelie Court issue, but their banishment has clearly had a detrimental effect here. This whole place is dying all around you and you don’t even see it. You’re so focused on the Queen, there’s no room for anything else.”
A faint smile crossed his face. “For someone so young you’ve certainly grasped the situation rather wholly. Almost.”
“It’s a gift.” At least I had something to focus on other than my own self-pity. And he was answering my questions.
“So I see, but there’s a bit more to it than what you’ve said. To be honest, I’m not sure the daemons really care so much about getting Maurice as they are set on reclaiming a foothold here.”
“Why would they want one?”
“We’re halfway to Heaven, I suppose. What better place to possibly stage an attack from? Closing the CrossRoads was merely an excuse for them, but what they really want is for us to reinstate the Tithe.”
I frowned. I knew the stories of the Devil’s Tithe had centered around the Fae kidnapping a mortal for seven years of bliss, only to hand him over to the Devil at the end of that time. And in return, the Fae got to live daemon-free.
“I was under the impression that was no longer done.” An icy ripple skated down my back at the thought.
“It’s not. Since the formal establishment of TouchStones, the balance of power shifted.” He laughed ruefully. “I suppose that was my doing.”
“How very generous of you.” I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this man and the one whose shirt I’d mouthed the buttons on as a baby were the same person.
“You’re a stubborn wee thing, I grant you.” He paused before getting to his feet.
“And if I was not so forthcoming with you before, it was because I had hoped to spare you this. Not everything that I foresee comes to pass, Abby. You have a rare talent. I would not have had that be the price for your admission into this world.”
“All I want is to figure out what the hell is going on, fix it, and get out of here.” He had the grace to look chagrined at least, so I chalked up a point in his favor. “You’re the Steward. If the Queen can’t run this place, then you should at least advise her to step down and let Moira take over, or something. For all the tales, I find it a bit disconcerting that the Sidhe seem so spineless. I mean, why did she shut the CrossRoads down in the first place? Seems like a bit of an overreaction.”
“I will not have you slander the Queen in my presence, daughter or no,” he snapped.
“What’s to slander?” I retorted. “She’s a like a child, running her little tea party into the ground while the big bad wolf stands outside getting ready to piss on the gates. And the rest of the pigs are sitting here in their house of straw playing canasta. What’s it going to take for you guys to get out the bricks?” My voice dropped lower. “I know you’ve been here for a long time … Dad. But don’t let a sense of immortality wrap you in complacency. Another few blinks and I’ll be gone … what service will your memory give you then?”
A silence borne of history crept over us, a chasm of old hurt and regret so deep it would probably never be filled. Regardless of what Ion had spoken to me of living forever, I knew now that I would never take it. Immortality clearly made people lazy, and taking others for granted was nothing I wanted to be remembered for.
“Perhaps you are right, lass. It has been a long time since I was truly mortal. I’ve forgotten how things used to be. Mayhap we all have. I will think on what you’ve said. As to the CrossRoads … aye. The Queen’s delusions grow stronger every day, no matter what we do. Her closing them was a mistake, one that only continues to escalate. She claims it was an instinctual reaction to the pain of her child, but she can’t seem to let it go.”
“I can’t help but notice there’s no mention of her closing them when Talivar was hurt,” I said quietly. “Don’t think about this too long.” In truth I was amazed at my own gall for telling him how to do anything, but a gleam of amusement lit up his eyes as he looked at me.
“I’ve strong daughters, apparently.”
I stared down at my feet. “Not always strong enough.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “I must see to the Queen for the evening, but tomorrow we will meet to plan our course of action. For now, though, the hour grows late and I must take my leave.” His mouth twitched. “Talivar seems rather taken with you. It’s good to see.”
Unless your other paramour is a sex daemon. I had nothing to say to his comment, so I let it go, giving my father a wan smile.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Aye,” he said, bowing slightly. “Tomorrow.”
I watched him go, walking the neatly trimmed path with quiet footsteps before giving Phineas a nudge.
“For someone who can’t keep his mouth shut at the best of times, I notice you were rather quiet there, Phin.” I tugged on his beard.
“And what would I have said? I’m not crazy enough to get between estranged relatives, even on the best of terms.” He huffed, his ears flattening. “Nice segue way into the Three Little Pigs, by the way.”
“Nice change of subject. And no, it wasn’t. I don’t have any right to say anything about how they do things here, Phin. It’s like an elbow trying to tell an asshole how to take a shit.”
He sniggered. “Guess so. But the brick thing was pretty apt. Things have been falling apart here for a while. Maybe this is the shakeup they need.”
“Yeah. Now all we have to do is see if they’re gonna build houses with them … or chuck one at the Queen’s head.”
“What a charming mouth on you, little whore. Not even here a day and you’re already cozying up to my consort. Plotting to overthrow me, perhaps?” The Queen’s icy, mad-swept voice rushed into the little grove, her dress hanging off her shoulders in ragged pieces. I jerked my feet out of the water, attempting to put as much space between me and the wild-eyed woman as I could. She laughed bitterly when I craned my head past her to look for my father.
“Thomas is somewhat blind when it comes to me, even should I be standing beside him while he passes by in the darkness. Easy enough to escape the watchful eyes of those who don’t truly wish to see.” Her nails raked across her arms, leaving jagged streaks of crimson behind.
I moved to take her hands, forgetting who she was. “You’ll hurt yourself.” Beneath my fingers, her skin was smooth and ice cold. Something pulsed over me, an electric rush of energy freezing me in place.
“KeyStone,” she hissed. “And she has the Key. Wherever did you get this, little whore? I see my consort has been even more naughty than I thought.” Pinpricks vibrated like thousands of tiny ants. From a distance I could almost get a sense of her mind, her thoughts beating against my mind like a butterfly trapped in a jar.
She was trying to TouchStone me.
… I plunged into darkness, the weight of years beyond measure pressing upon me like the endless depths of the sea … the glittering silver of the CrossRoads filling me to the brim, the magic swirling, pushing against my very skin as though I might burst open with it, spilling my guts like a ripened fruit …
I gritted my teeth and fought as hard as I could. In the past I’d had to at least allow it on some level, but the Queen’s power was tainted by an insanity I couldn’t comprehend.
“No,” I croaked. “I will not do this.”
“What else can I do?” she whispered. “How else can I protect my lands? The daemons will not rest until they have them, but I cannot free the CrossRoads until Moira is safe. She’s only a little girl.” Her maddened gaze focused on me. “Who would stoop to hurting a little girl? Can you help me?”
“I thought that was what I was trying to do.” My knees buckled beneath the strain of holding her back, her power assaulting me a second time.
Phineas bolted upright and nipped the Queen hard in the ankle. She shook her leg like a dog in a trap, sending Phineas sprawling.
“Don’t let her,” he wheezed. “She’ll kill you.”
“Sorta figured that out, thanks.”
Already she was turning toward me, her fingers reaching. No choice for it then. I bum-rushed her ass, landing hard enough to knock the wind from her. Admittedly not the smartest thing in the world, but I’d take it. She gasped, her eyes rolling into her head as she tried to bite me. “Now what?” I looked over the unicorn.
“Stuff her mouth with something, I don’t know. Gag her?”
“Dude, I get caught doing that …”
“You want to find—” But whatever else he was going to say was lost when the Queen bucked up, raking her nails across my shoulder.
“Fuck it,” I snarled, tearing off a strip of her dress and shoving it into her mouth. She bared her teeth at me, but at least it kept her occupied enough to stop from trying to curse me into oblivion. I attempted to kneel on her shoulders, dimly hearing Phin say he was going for help, and then I was barreled ass over elbows into the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” My father loomed over me, shaking with rage.
“She tried to TouchStone me,” I sputtered, pulling a cluster of desiccated rose leaves from my mouth.
He went to his lover, gently cradling her head and removing the makeshift gag. Her eyes glazed over as she looked him, her limbs beginning to shudder. “Leave us,” Thomas said harshly, not looking at me.
“But—”
“Leave. Now,” he snapped.
I couldn’t quite bring myself to apologize. The cuts on my shoulder began to sting fiercely. I doubted she was practicing much personal hygiene these days, so I would have to clean that out for sure. Carefully I crept around the prone form of the Queen, Phin trotting at my heels.
I didn’t look back.
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The water splashed over my face, washing away the sticky feeling of tears, dirt, and blood.
Bleary, I peered in the mirror, blinking when I saw the leaves in my hair. “I haven’t had nearly enough to drink to look this awesome.” A rough patch at the corner of my mouth confirmed I’d broken a bit of skin when I’d hit the ground, but it didn’t feel too swollen. At least I was back in my own room, though.
“You’re telling me,” Phineas proclaimed from my bed. “What a cluster.”
“Eh, provided the guards don’t come knocking my door down tonight, I’ll settle for crashing.” I yawned, cringing when I used a dampened linen towel to wash over the cuts the Queen’s nails had left behind. “This had better not scar.”
“If it still hurts in the morning I’ll heal it for you. Might lead to some awkward questions, otherwise.”
I yawned again, slipping easily out of the now-completely-destroyed ballet dress. “Whatever. I’m going to throw on a shirt and pass out. Worry about it tomorrow,” I mumbled, stumbling into the wardrobe. No shirts, but I did find what was probably a chemise. It was soft and long and that worked just fine. “Good enough.”
I glanced over at Melanie’s door, grateful she’d been asleep when I poked my head into the room. Unusual for her to turn in so early, but it had been a pretty long day for her too. Couldn’t blame her if she wanted some quiet.
A soft knock at the door jolted me to awareness. Guards? No. Guards wouldn’t bother knocking. I hesitated, not sure I wanted company.
“Abby?” Talivar’s muffled voice sounded from the hallway and I relaxed.
“Come in.”
I emerged from the wardrobe, shrugging into the chemise as he strode in, dressed in a more casual set of trousers and shirt. His shorn hair was tousled in a rather alluring fashion, but I couldn’t even come up with the effort of leering at it.