The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4)

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The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) Page 4

by Shona Husk


  “Not that different if he’s still exiling people,” someone muttered.

  Darah didn’t want to agree, as she wasn’t exiled. “He hasn’t banished anyone.” She was almost sure of that.

  “Hasn’t pardoned anyone either though, has he?” Henry raised one dark eyebrow as he sipped his wine.

  “No.” Felan wasn’t offering the banished any hope.

  That soured the mood among the Greys. The tension rose, as did the muttering, and a few walked away in disgust. That was interesting. She’d thought they’d given up hope and were living it up in the mortal world, but maybe not. Maybe they still longed to go home.

  She didn’t want to have sympathy for the Greys. They were banished, criminals…and she had spent a year and a day as a shadow servant for theft. It was only because she’d stolen for the winning side that she wasn’t banished. If Sulia had ended up on the throne, she would’ve been banished the moment she’d been freed from being a shadow. She’d have been like these fairies. Grey and helpless and waiting to die.

  She took another sip of wine. This time it didn’t seem quiet as rough. “There is one big change which you may not know: he’s closed the Court except for festivals.”

  The gaunt elegant woman frowned. It was a gruesome sight to watch such paper thin skin move so much. “Why would he do that? Court is the center of life.”

  “He wants fairies to mingle with mortals and repair the damage they helped cause.”

  “Well, that explains why I have heard reports of more fairies around the place. Most seem to be avoiding Detroit though.” The woman nodded as though thinking.

  “Probably because of all the Greys.” A smart fairy would stay well clear and avoid getting caught up in any trouble brewing. She obviously wasn’t as smart as she’d thought, as she’d willingly walked right into the middle as a spy. If they knew that, they’d tear her down.

  “Good. I don’t want them here. They can mess with any other city but Detroit is mine.” Henry spoke with conviction and got a little cheer from the gathered Greys.

  “A broken down city full of banished fairies…” She gave him a small smile. “A ghost town?” It wasn’t unique. Humans left a town and the banished claimed it as theirs until it all fell apart. Haunted houses usually just had a Grey in their history, the rumor living on long after the Grey had faded.

  She may not have spent much time in the mortal world recently but some things never changed. The trouble with Greys claiming a town was that too many tended to attract attention, and then the trouble started.

  “No, not a ghost town, Darah. I want to bring Detroit back to life.”

  She blinked, and let the surprise show in her face—something she didn’t do very often—and the muscles that usually kept her face expressionless tugged at the strangeness. Weren’t the banished only interested in themselves and scraping by on whatever they could? However Henry wasn’t banished, and he was mortal for all intents and purposes. “And how do you plan to do that?”

  “I’m not sure yet, but tonight I learned a lot more about the people and what they want and need.” He spoke as though he was already trying to think of ways to exploit that information.

  “It’s an industrial city.” She’d taken the time to learn a little before she came here. She’d also learned how to read and write while working for Felan. Cars were big here. Or had been. Even before the battle for the throne, the industry had been dying and people had been leaving the city. After the plagues, there were even fewer left, and from the looks of tonight’s party those who remained seemed fairly desperate. Hollow. As if they were Greys with no hope of going home.

  “It was. It doesn’t have to be anymore.” Henry’s face gave away nothing. He was more like a Court fairy than he realized, and his plans were bigger than she’d be able to uncover in a few short days.

  Her hopes of getting back to Annwyn fast began to evaporate. Whatever was going on was bigger than a large gathering of Greys and a man who shouldn’t have lived past his first birthday.

  Henry wanted to make himself the King of Detroit.

  He’d assembled his army, acquired his castle, and was now plotting a way to seize power. She couldn’t help but admire his ambition. She’d always loved men who reached for the stars and were able to grab them and hold on. As it turned out, Shea hadn’t been that man.

  Henry sipped his wine and held her gaze, as if he had no fear of her or what she represented, his pale blue eyes bright in the artificial light. “Would you like to join my quest to rebuild Detroit?”

  Surely he wasn’t going to trust her so easily?

  Darah didn’t blink as she regarded him. And while she didn’t want to agree outright, as that would be lying, she couldn’t very well refuse when the Greys he commanded were watching and listening to every word. She couldn’t defend herself against so many, and she had no weapon. For all she knew they had a stash of iron based weapons that would leave her crippled and poisoned and begging for death.

  “Perhaps. Maybe I’d rather just flit from city to city until I can return home.” She gave her voice a careless edge, as if his dream meant nothing to her. Could he really rebuild a city and make it better? Proclaim himself King and rule the banished? Who would really want that job? And why? He had ambition, that was clear, but why this project? Why not something else, something less likely to attract Felan’s attention?

  He gave a cold laugh and turned away. “Just like every other Court fairy I’ve ever met.”

  “What do you mean?” Just how many Court fairies had he met? If he was still in contact with them, that could cause her problems, although she was sure Felan would make it clear that she was no longer welcome at Court if people asked.

  Greys sneered and laughed; they didn’t bother to hide their dislike behind pretty manners the way most did at Court. “We don’t need her.”

  “Don’t trust her either.”

  The gaunt woman held up her hand and the Greys quieted. She had obviously once been someone of importance. “She can do what we can’t. She can cast glamours and be seen in public.” She fixed Darah with a hard stare. “So while we may not trust her, or like her, she can help.”

  The woman was a Grey to watch, as she obviously still had the Greys’ loyalty and respect. She also seemed to know Henry very well. The woman’s lip curved but it was a poor imitation of a smile. Darah knew she had been measured and found lacking...or the woman knew she was a spy and was preparing her own game. Either way she set Darah on edge—and not just because she was a Grey.

  Henry nodded. “So she stays for tonight. I’ll show her the city tomorrow and we go from there? All in favor?”

  They were taking a vote? What kind of leader was he? Her estimation of him fell a couple of notches.

  More muted grumblings. She wanted to reassure them she didn’t like them either, and she didn’t want to be here. But she had to play her part, otherwise they might catch on. They might be banished, but they weren’t stupid. And they were still fairy despite their ugliness. That was something she couldn’t forget.

  Never underestimate a Grey.

  Despite the grumblings, most raised their hands. They could see the tactical advantage of having her around. She almost felt a stab of guilt. She could bring down this whole operation and make sure Henry never took another soul.

  Chapter 6

  Darah had spent a restless night in the hotel part of the casino. She’d never been one for the mortal world at the best of times. This was definitely not a good time or a good place. She had no idea what her grandfather had ever seen in the mortal world…or mortals, for that matter.

  The casino was run down, and while the room she had was probably perfectly fine in human terms it lacked the luxury she was used to in the Court of Annwyn. There were no silks and colors. Everything was neutral browns, with a faint musty scent from lack of use. It was like spending the night in some kind of toadstool. Castle Annwyn was made of living trees. It changed with the seasons, and there’d be
en hints of bright green new growth when she’d left.

  This place was dead and still.

  And teeming with banished.

  She would’ve rather spent the night at the little house she’d commandeered, and that said a lot. However, turning down hospitality was the ultimate rudeness. Something she was sure that Henry had known.

  That her thoughts had turned to the darkling too many times hadn’t helped her sleep either. She ran the bath, keeping an eye on the running water and the way it splashed and gurgled. She shuddered, then tugged her silver ring off her middle finger and dropped it in the bath. The water immediately stilled and became as smooth as a mirror.

  Better.

  There was nothing more revolting than running water. She knew humans didn’t share that fear, but then they didn’t have the river of damned souls on their doorstep. She’d seen its choppy shores before being sentenced and she hoped she never saw it again. With any luck, she’d never see winter in Annwyn again. Not because she was dead, but because Felan would have a long and stable reign. Something even he doubted, given that he felt threatened by a darkling on the other side of the veil.

  Which brought her thoughts back to Henry. He had the pale blue eyes of a fairy, or changeling. Unremarkable brown hair. He was nothing special. And yet he was. He shouldn’t exist—that he was even alive was something that pricked her curiosity. How old was he? Why was he gathering a Grey army?

  She slid into the bath without a ripple and washed away the remains of the sleepless night. She needed to be alert and sharp. Who knew what tricks he’d attempt to play?

  Who knew what tricks she’d need to play? A smile curved her lips.

  Henry Saint. Not his real name, that was for certain. Had he picked it as a joke or something to aspire to? She didn’t know enough about him yet make that call.

  She didn’t know enough about him to make any decision.

  While Felan would be interested in the exact numbers of Greys, he’d want to know more. If she went back with so little, he wouldn’t be impressed. This was her one shot at reminding him why he wanted—no, needed—her in his corner and on his Council.

  Darah finished washing and stood, water trickling down her body and sliding into the water without a splash. She had to find a way to get close to Henry and stay there…at least until she had something good to give Felan.

  Henry looked at his watch. He’d expected Darah to emerge much earlier. He’d hoped that she’d join him for breakfast. Instead he’d eaten alone…except for Penn and Marlis.

  Marlis liked to think she was still beautiful. She had the skeletal look human women seemed to strive for, that when he’d been young had been a sign of severe malnutrition or disease, or both. One day she’d smile and her cheek bones would break the flesh. He was sure she was a little shorter than she had been a few months ago. Eventually she’d become one of the tiny fragile Greys that were little more than grotesque flightless butterflies. But she knew the Court. He’d crossed paths with her fifty years ago. Back then her beauty had been clear and she’d showed him what it was like to kiss and not kill.

  She touched his hand to stop him from rolling the dice. A rigged ruby and a true ivory. Red and white. Her finger joints were too large. She smiled and it hurt him. He didn’t like seeing her like this.

  The laughter and the intimacy they’d once shared was a pale ghost compared to what they had they now. She hadn’t attempted to reconnect on that level, only as his friend. One of the few he’d ever have called that. He swallowed but couldn’t look at her. Instead he tried to remember what she had looked like. The way her hands had been.

  “She will be down. No one from Court likes to throw their hand in with Greys. Her pride will be smarting.”

  Marlis knew that from bitter experience, but by the time he’d known her she’d been more interested in fun than schemes. They had lived well. But it had eventually ended when she had decided to move on. His youth had no longer been enough for her. “Did you ever meet this new King?”

  “Felan was just a boy. His mother saw me gone. Do not worry about him, he has enough concerns.”

  Henry glanced up. Should he be worried? Did his existence break some new law? He knew that there were too many Greys in Detroit, and yet more arrived and sought his permission, as if it were his to grant.

  She waved her fingers as if dispelling any thoughts of the King. “You must plan your next party.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted another party. Parties bought temporary favor. And while it had been fun to redistribute the Mayor’s money, in the long term it was nothing. A drop in the ocean. He wouldn’t learn anything else from another party. He needed something more. The people deserved more. Fairies had the power to deliver. But they never did.

  He hadn’t.

  He’d killed and drank and danced and thieved for so long. If he was going to keep taking souls, he needed to give something back. He needed to stop being just another itinerant fairy half-breed. He wanted a legacy.

  Penn shook his head. “Felan is far smarter than he seems and far more dangerous. He will know who you are. Has probably known for quite a while.” Penn pressed his lips together. The size of a child, he was often underestimated, but he was lethal.

  “Ever since I helped Verden, you mean.” That had been a gamble, but there was no way he was going to let the families of Greys be killed simply to serve a political purpose. When Verden had asked for help, he’d been unable to say no. While Greys were the criminals of the fairy world, their crimes weren’t anything that a mortal would pay for. He was tired of all Greys being treated like some kind of substandard creature.

  But perhaps that said more about him than anything else. A soulless mortal freak, belonging to neither people.

  Penn inclined his head. “It was a gamble…we have yet to see if it pays off.”

  A gamble or doing the right thing?

  Henry liked to think he’d done it because those mortals didn’t deserve to die. They hadn’t known what they were in bed with. The fairies had. Beyond Annwyn, exiled and banished existed together, and sometimes people crossed lines they would never have dared cross in Annwyn.

  “And what gamble would that be?” Darah stepped into the doorway to the bar. Her shirt matched her eyes. An impossible shade of blue that humans could only get with contact lenses, and even then they wouldn’t have the looks to pull it off.

  His gazed skimmed over her body. He tried not to notice the way her clothes hugged her curves. She was trouble. Court fairies, even recently removed ones, were always trouble. But she could also be useful. She would have fresh information on the King and Court.

  He smiled. “Inviting you to join us of course.”

  Her expression didn’t change. He didn’t expect it to. In Annwyn the wrong glance could set off a chain of events not unlike the beating of a butterfly’s wing starting a hurricane.

  He was extremely glad he didn’t live in Annwyn...they were probably equally glad he didn’t live there. Mortal and banished, what an unfortunate combination. He could only imagine what Darah must be thinking. Actually, he didn’t want to imagine that. Sometimes it was better not to know. Her guarded expression meant he didn’t have to see the disdain or revulsion in her all-too-pretty eyes.

  “What us am I joining?” She moved closer but didn’t sit. He recognized the power play and the attempt at superiority.

  He glanced at Marlis and they shared a knowing look. If Marlis was watching Darah, he had nothing to fear. Marlis was the only ex-lover he’d trust with his life. Too many had trusted him with their lives and had paid the price. Ah, to be young and callous again instead of weighted with guilt.

  He gave Darah a careless smile. He could wear a mask as well as her. “My little band of misfits. We rob from the Mayor and give back to the poor.”

  Henry watched Darah closely, she almost frowned. Almost. Did she understand the reference? He was no golden-hearted Robin Hood, though. All his life, he’d seen people carve out a place for
themselves while he had nothing. No family. No money. Humans didn’t know what he was—if they did they’d think he was an evil creature conjured from nightmares—and fairies didn’t want to know him either.

  Detroit would change that.

  This would be his legacy to mortals and fairies. He would make the city live again and set an example to the fairies about how to work with humans and Greys. When he decided that he’d take no more souls, his life would’ve meant something. All the souls he had taken would have been taken for a reason. The deaths wouldn’t have been in vain.

  He was sure the guilt was coming back faster every year.

  He sighed. “The Mayor, the cops and the gangs are bleeding what they can from the people who live and work here. The fire department is broke. The hospital is about to close shop. Schools…” Henry shrugged and glanced at Penn.

  “Have no supplies and low attendance. Most have sustained fire damage. To be fair, Detroit was bad before Annwyn’s war.” Penn glanced at Darah. “The deaths and panic brought out the end of days believers. Religion got a boost at the expense of common sense.” He shook his head.

  “How many died?” She asked, but there was no compassion in her voice. Was she ice all the way through?

  “Half a billion.” Even though he’d spent his whole life among humans, it was a hard number to picture. From the look on Darah’s face she couldn’t even start. “How many fairies live in Annwyn?”

  “Court usually has a couple of hundred in residence…in the whole of Annwyn maybe a thousand? But numbers have dwindled over the last couple of hundred years.”

  “Because the old Queen was jealous of all who crossed the veil to become pregnant,” Marlis said with a hint of venom Henry hadn’t heard before.

  Henry had often wondered why she’d been banished. Had she been pregnant and given birth in the mortal world? If so, what had happened to the child?

 

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