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

by Shona Husk

  She glanced at Henry, her lips turned down and her pale yellow eyes holding the echo of old pain. “Not all have the will to live when they realize the cost.”

  Henry swallowed and glanced away. Her child had been darkling. The longer he lived, the more he felt the weight of his choice to live.

  “Imagine five hundred thousand Annwyns, all dead. And you’ll get the idea.” The numbers were still too great. He’d seen the devastation first hand. The closing of businesses. The shutting of malls for fear of the diseases spreading. Those were the sensible ideas.

  Bombing the hell out of another country and starting yet another war that couldn’t be afforded, not so smart. It was just unfortunate that smallpox had been eradicated until the river of the damned had spilled across the veil. Russia was all kinds of fucked up now.

  He was glad he’d left Europe close to a century ago.

  Darah looked at him, and it was pretty clear she had no idea.

  “How much time have you spent in the mortal world, Darah merch Hathor?” His fingers toyed with the die, rolling the small ivory cube along its sides.

  “Very little until recently. It was not to my taste. But my grandfather was very fond of it. He was a drifter.” Her lips curled just slightly, as if her grandfather’s lifestyle was worthy of contempt.

  Some fairies chose to live in the mortal world. They moved around and made the most of humanity, preferring it to the company of fairies. If all fairies were as prickly as Darah, he didn’t blame them. Most of the banished around him had gotten over themselves and developed a sense of humor before he’d met them. Most but not all.

  Henry stood up and pocketed the die. “Well, I guess your tastes will have to adapt. If Detroit is not your style, I hear New York is faring better.” Like most cities, there were now plenty of empty buildings and rents had fallen dramatically.

  Cities had been the worst hit in the plagues. Small communities had done better, not just because they refused to let disease carrying strangers in—many people had died from being been shot as a precaution—but because they had access to food.

  Even after the battle had been fought and won in Annwyn, it had taken several months for the plagues run their course. And after that, many more months for everyone to stop hiding under the bed.

  In that time, food production and transportation had become an issue.

  It was still an issue. Many crops no longer self-seeded. Corporate greed now meant that people starved.

  He glanced at Penn. It wasn’t parties and free meals that would win the people over to his side. They needed to feel like they had control and security again. He needed to take Detroit from city to community. He’d never had a family; how could he create a village? He didn’t know, not yet anyway, but he had the start of an idea.

  “I’m going to give Darah a tour of our little slice of hell. When I come back, I have a job for you.”

  Penn grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Like last time?”

  “No, something much more subtle. Something we can grow right under the Mayor’s nose.” The Mayor had been controlling emergency food supplies, as well as taking fees for all produce sold at the tiny markets that had formed. Henry had gone about it the wrong way last time. Been too bold in his statement and expected returns too quickly.

  Henry started walking, then he realized Darah wasn’t following. “Come on.”

  “I wasn’t aware that it was an order.”

  He was about to make a cutting reply about uppity Court fairies, but checked his tongue. Marlis was right, Darah could be useful, but she had to be played carefully. “It was an invitation—don’t you want to learn more about humanity now that you are stuck here?” He let himself smile, the one that promised he was all bite. He was well aware that it would have no effect on her, but it certainly made mortals pause. Fairy blood did have its advantages, occasionally.

  “Very well. Can we get something to eat while we’re out?”

  If she’d graced them with her presence earlier she could’ve eaten breakfast with Penn, Marlis and him. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something.”

  There were still cafés and fast food outlets. Supermarkets took a deposit when you entered the door just to make sure you had money.

  This time Darah followed him. He pulled on his sunglasses as they left the casino. It was all shiny curves and sleek modern lines, nothing like the manors and castles and cathedrals of Europe. He had always appreciated the aesthetics of things, something else he blamed on his fairy blood. Most people probably gave buildings no second thought as long as they didn’t leak. Especially now.

  The sidewalk was cracked and grass was poking through, the roads were in no better shape. There was no money to keep up with repairs and nature was quick to start reclaiming what the humans had taken.

  They walked in silence for a while, Passing dilapidated houses with windows that were empty and dark like mouths with jagged glass teeth. They had been boarded up once, but then the boards had been torn down and used for fire wood.

  “Why didn’t you bring your body guard?”

  “He had other things to do.” Henry said. He didn’t want to be talking about Kaid with Darah. Some secrets were best left untold.

  Darah glanced at him; a question flickered briefly in her eyes before vanishing. No doubt she had plenty of questions about what Kaid was up to and possibly about what Kaid was. Most realized quickly that he wasn’t fairy or mortal. Henry would have to be careful about which questions he answered. Like most fairies, he could be selective with the truth without telling an outright lie, but Darah was probably better at asking questions.

  They walked along past a row of what had been neat red brick terrace houses, all with matching red doors. Most were now deserted. With so many empty buildings, people had rushed to fill the large fancy ones. No one was making an effort to kick them out. There were too many other problems. At the last terrace house, there was a small knot of people.

  Darah flinched, as if expecting trouble. From the roughness of their clothes it was probably a good first assumption, but Henry knew the area and most of the people. They were just queuing at an illegal café, not for coffee, but for soup. Coffee was a luxury that people no longer indulged in—assuming they could find it.

  Henry placed a hand on her arm. “It’s generally safe to walk around in daylight. The stray dogs usually keep to themselves, and they don’t seem to like fairies. However, don’t trust the cops—they’ll go looking for a fight.”

  “I realized that last night.”

  Henry nodded. Last night had been an exercise in reminding him who was in charge. “No, I mean really don’t trust the cops, they are just as bad as the gangs. Many of them haven’t been paid in months because the Mayor says there’s no money.”

  “Why is there no money?”

  “Because there’s no one to pay taxes. No one has anything. I never did thank you for using the glamour last night.”

  “You didn’t just then either,” Darah said without missing a beat.

  “I’ll buy you a cup of hot soup and some bread.” He glanced at her; obviously she expected a proper thank you. Would she like it written on vellum in unicorn blood?

  Her nose wrinkled. “I suppose I’m going to have to get used to mortal food.”

  “Yes you are.” Princess. It was no wonder Court fairies were unpopular when they crossed the veil to slum it with the humans. He bet her drifter grandfather would be horrified by her disdain. Bet her grandfather hadn’t been raised at Court with a jewel encrusted stick up his ass.

  He stopped at the café that was really just the front window of the house that faced the street. A few plastic chairs littered the front lawn. “Two cups of today’s special with bread, got butter?”

  “No butter.” The man shook his head. “Need cows for that.”

  Cows…he had nowhere to keep cows and no way to keep them safe. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to ask more. “And where would you put them?”


  The man grinned, gaps showing in his front teeth, and ladled the vegetable soup into two slightly chipped cups. “I’d knock down a few fences between houses and set a guard on them. I’d pay the guard in produce.”

  “Well, if I find any cows I’ll let you know.”

  “I do have chicken on a stick today.” The man’s dark eyes glinted. In the background, his wife said something in a language Henry didn’t speak.

  Hmmm. If the man didn’t have a cow, Henry was willing to bet there were no chickens. He’d lived through the Great Depression. “Is it really chicken or is it pigeon?”

  “Tastes like chicken.” The man picked up a stick of what could be chicken, and it smelled better than it should. “One for the lady?”

  Darah wrinkled her nose and stepped back. “I don’t eat meat.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a no. I’ll have hers too. Want to put the meat in the bread for me?”

  “Sure thing.” The man plated up the order and handed it over. He knew Henry well enough not to demand payment before handing over the food. Henry paid and he and Darah sat on a couple of plastic chairs.

  She looked unimpressed. “I can’t believe you are eating that meat.”

  “I can’t believe you aren’t. It’s good.” He bit into the bread stuffed with what was most likely seasoned pigeon to prove the point. Pigeons were the new chicken. People had learned how to trap them. He’d never expected to be eating pigeon again. He’d also made a better effort at getting his finances in order so he wasn’t living hand to mouth. He lived long enough to do that…humans didn’t. He could compound interest over a century, or more.

  What was interesting was that even the people who’d stayed in the city were returning to the old ways, trying to be self-sufficient. Most of them didn’t have enough to get going though. Cows and chickens cost money and had to come from somewhere.

  The one thing Detroit had now was plenty of vacant space and a smaller population. The city he’d once known was now barely a shadow of its former self. By his estimate only a few hundred thousand people remained. Once it had been home to nearly two million.

  Tourism was dead. Industry was trying to stand up on shaky legs. But people needed food before they could spend. They needed jobs. Industry needed a demand before it could employ. It was a vicious circle that the world was beginning to understand.

  The only government funded project this time was war.

  If he’d had a passport and been able to leave the country, he might have taken off for a nice tropical island somewhere. He was sure that Kaid would approve.

  From what he’d heard, Australia and New Zealand had survived quite well simply by shutting borders. As giant islands, that had been most effective in halting incoming plagues.

  He ate his pigeon bread and drank his soup, happy to support a small business and be able to buy what he needed this time around. And the next time there was a global disaster? Would he still be kicking in another century?

  Darah broke off a little bread and ate it before sipping her soup, tasting both cautiously, as if she expected them to be tainted.

  Humans had a resilience that fairies often lacked. Fairies didn’t bounce: they rolled to a stop, sulked, and then started scheming. Humans hit the ground and got straight back up. Then again, humans didn’t have decades to waste wallowing in self-pity.

  Maybe by the time his birthday rolled around he’d be able to take a life with a clear conscience…or give in and say farewell. He doubted he’d ever be able to do the latter.

  The beginnings of a plan were starting to form. All those steps between here and there were becoming clearer—he had no idea if it would work, but it would be a damn fun ride. The key to his success would be hiding it from the cops and the Mayor. Easier said than done. And he’d already failed once.

  This time, though, he’d have fairy magic on his side. Or at least in his possession, if not exactly on his side. He glanced at Darah.

  “So, Darah, what did you do to end up here?” The cup warmed his hands. Summer was fast becoming a memory as autumn took hold.

  She paused, the cup almost to her lips. After being surrounded by humans and the ugly and awkward Greys for so long, her beauty was like a rose growing among the weeds in sidewalk. Something rare that made him pause.

  Her tongue darted over her lip. He shivered, unprepared for the spark of lust the thought ignited. He’d spent a long time keeping those kinds of thoughts deeply buried, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to release them. Certainly not with a woman he barely knew and didn’t quite trust.

  Although to be fair, most of his sexual encounters had involved women for whom kissing wasn’t part of the job. It was safer for everyone, even if it didn’t satisfy the ache. Darklings didn’t get to love. Any human he did love would eventually die. And Greys, he’d tried once. It was easier to go without.

  “I stole from the old Queen.”

  “If you were exiled before the power shift and the change of Kings, you’d be dead.” All fairies caught on the wrong side of the veil had died, only the Greys had survived because they were already cut off from the magic. “Don’t lie to me.” He wasn’t a mortal fool who knew nothing of Annwyn.

  “That wasn’t a lie.” And she sounded offended that he would accuse of stooping so low. That revealed a little more about her; at least she wouldn’t lie to him…merely mislead. “I was a shadow servant for a year and day as punishment. However, the taint of being one of the mad Queen’s ladies has stained my reputation.”

  Henry narrowed his eyes. Her words were too careful. She had never once actually said that she was exiled, merely agreed with the assumption. “You aren’t exiled, are you?”

  She sipped her soup but didn’t answer. No confirmation or denial. He was taking that as an affirmative.

  He leaned back. This one had teeth and cunning; he was going to have to watch her closely. It had been a long time since anyone had roused the thrill of a hunt and the chance of a good game.

  Damn his fairy blood for that one too.

  “Why Detroit?” He smiled, and plucked some of the bread. It was always made fresh, but it really needed butter.

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “Very well, a truthful answer for a truthful answer.” All fairies loved a deal. Was she enjoying the idea of a game as much as he was? How far was he willing to take it? It was a delicate dance and he couldn’t afford to gamble too much, nor get too distracted.

  “That’s an acceptable deal.” She smiled and her gaze sharpened.

  He exhaled as lust traced a razor edge over his skin. If he mis-stepped, dancing with Darah was going to hurt.

  Chapter 7

  The soup was bland and the bread was coarse. However, pretending to like it here was one of the sacrifices she was going to have to make to get back to Annwyn and claim her place on the King’s Council.

  “You expect me to go first?” She looked at Henry. His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses so she had no idea if he was looking at her or had his eyes closed—that was infuriating.

  “I did ask first, so yes I expect you to answer first.” His lips thinned and he hadn’t flinched at her well-practiced icy stare.

  Telling him that she’d been sent to spy on him was out of the question. She needed a plausible mistruth. “I wanted to avoid other Court fairies.” She glanced at him. From his expression it wasn’t going to be enough. “I was in the old Queen’s court, and to those that support Felan, that makes me an enemy. To those that supported Sulia, the old Queen’s protégé, it makes me an ally. I don’t want to pick sides and reignite another war.”

  That was the truth. She didn’t want another war in Annwyn, and while her reasons for helping Felan were her own, the result was the same—she was on his side. If Henry was rallying the disenfranchised, she would discover it and tell Felan.

  He regarded her for a moment. “No, another war wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

  “Not even you?” He wanted the city,
that much she’d gleaned. But there were bigger, grander cities he could’ve chosen. Not this glorified ghost town.

  “Not even me. I came here once many, many years ago, back when it was thriving. I returned out of sentimentality, but also because people had given up on it. No one is keeping a close eye on things here. By the time they take a closer look, I want to have turned things around.” He spoke with a conviction she’d only ever heard in fairies with true ambition. The nerve to play to the wire and gamble every last coin. Her husband had been one of them; however, he’d lost.

  Verden, the old Lord of the Hunt, had lost…maybe. He was married and living on this side of the veil, and his sentence had been commuted to exile. The only thing he’d lost was status at Court and if Felan had his way that would no longer matter. That idea still sat uncomfortably with in her. Without power and status what was there to live for?

  Nothing. Even Henry realized that and he was only part banished fairy. She finished the soup and managed not to grimace. She’d be drinking plenty more soup before returning to Annwyn.

  “In a thriving city that is fixing itself, I’d just be a cog. Here I can be…” He shrugged as though he hadn’t quite decided what he wanted to be.

  “Lord?” she finished for him? “Lord of Greys and mortals?” Was such a thing possible? While it was true fairies had once been worshipped as gods, that had been a long time ago.

  “They call them mayors these days and I’d do a better job than MacGill is.” The edge was back in his voice, as though even mentioning the name was distasteful. That was pretty much how she felt about her dead husband.

  However Henry had revealed what he wanted. Power, even if he couldn’t, or didn’t want to name it. In that he was the same as any fairy. She was beginning to see why Felan was interested in Henry. Not only was he an adult darkling—which was rare given that they needed a new soul every year—he was also ambitious and friendly with Greys. Not just friendly, they listened to him and did his bidding. That was dangerous for mortals and for Annwyn.

  Darah assumed MacGill was the current mayor who was supposed to be running the city. She may not have spent much time in the mortal world but even she could tell he wasn’t doing a very good job. “And once you have the city, what then?”