Jack walked next to her, reining in his stride to match hers. She could feel the layers of his mask slipping as they walked toward the castle. There was intrinsic violence in his every move, his grace and strength poised to lash out and to protect. Even his hands were half curled at his sides, ready to grab and strike at the least sign of danger.
Once he had to catch her when she stumbled. The ground was rocky and treacherous, the path hidden by dust. The grass was dead and white as ash. It crunched like breakfast cereal and yet, when Lark glanced down, it seemed to reform the moment she passed, springing up again in sere, shriveled spears.
The drought extended to the castle walls. The moat was dry, the drawbridge flanked by guards in livery of black-and-white. Jack was looking around curiously. “This is all wrong.”
“How?” she asked.
“It’s too quiet. There should be people and livestock everywhere in a working castle.”
He was right. As they passed beneath the great stone gate tower, she could see the yard was almost empty of life. The wind keening between chinks of stone drowned out any incidental noise. It sounded lonely, as if the castle itself was in mourning.
Egon led them through the huge doors and into the great hall. Here the silence abruptly ended, as if someone had flipped a switch. This room was crammed with guests in outlandish, colorful dress—and they were all talking, squealing or chittering with excitement. Many were from the lesser tribes of the fey, and so were all sizes and shapes, from the tiny winged fey that tended flowers to the grotesque lizards that haunted desert mountains. Wings, antennae, scales and tails were draped in glittering finery.
The Blackthorns marched Jack and Lark down the center aisle of the hall. The noise rose to an ear-splitting pitch as the crowd parted, drawing back to show an aisle paved with dark-veined marble. Lark felt the prod of Drusella’s spear between her shoulders, and she quickened her steps. She tried not to look around, but it was impossible not to see the glittering eyes fixed on them, and the leers of anticipation. Everyone had known they were coming and expected a show.
Black-and-white banners hung from the rafters, unremarkable until Lark saw they were enormous bats with their wings outstretched. In the center of the aisle, about halfway along, was a marble fountain. Gold and silver goblets sat on its rim, as if inviting guests to drink. She felt Jack stiffen as they passed. The liquid in the fountain was warm, scarlet blood.
At the head of the aisle, on a dais made from a latticework of bone, sat a great golden chair. There, Queen Selena reclined, her slender body barely filling half the throne. She was exquisite, glittering with gems at her throat and wrists and in the mass of her shining golden hair. Her large eyes were gray, her fair skin flawless as mountain snow. She was dressed in silks of deep indigo with silver mesh stitched over her bodice and sleeves.
A savage poke to the back from Drusella’s spear brought Lark to her knees. Jack knelt beside her, but it was a stiffly courteous gesture, holding little true respect. Lark looked up under her eyelashes as Drusella and Egon moved to flank the throne. The queen paid them no attention—her gaze was locked on Jack, a faint smile playing around her lips. Lark knew they had been foes during the bloody wars of olden times, but their hostility hadn’t ended there. From behind her prison gates, Selena had sent tentacles into the Knights of Vidon, the Company and even the human police to achieve her ends. Now she had attacked La Compagnie des Morts, Jack’s home for as long as it had graced the earth. To see Jack kneeling at her feet must have seemed a final triumph.
But there was more to come. Selena flicked the billows of her skirts aside to reveal one last cruelty. At her feet lay a wolf in a silver collar, shivers running through its body as if it was racked with agony. Its golden eyes were flat and dull, no fire left within them. Lark gave a strangled moan. They’d found Faran Kenyon.
Jack sprang to his feet, but the leaf blade of Drusella’s spear was immediately at his chest, pressed directly above his heart. “Stay where you are, vampire.”
Queen Selena stepped to the edge of the dais and looked down on them, eyes wide with amusement. “So,” she said in a voice as pure and soft as bells, “after all these years, you have come to amuse me, Silverhand. How very kind you are to blunder into my waiting arms.”
Chapter 23
“We’re not kind, and this isn’t a social call,” Jack replied.
“I know that well enough,” said the queen, her eyes turning cold with warning. “That is what I like the least about the men of the Company. It takes so much effort to put you in an agreeable mood. But then, I suppose there are fewer of you left to annoy me.”
That did nothing to improve Jack’s frame of mind. “Give me the wolf.”
“No.” She turned and waved away her courtiers. They cleared the hall, leaving only a handful of guards posted along the wall. Suddenly the place felt cold and echoing, the only sound the thick burble of the blood fountain. “No, I like my new pet. I think I shall keep him.”
Rage stirred—the closest thing to a father’s anger Jack knew—and he felt his fangs slip free. Faran had been a troublesome, stubborn, wonderful youth who had grown to manhood under Jack’s watchful eye. Jack would rather be chained there himself. “I demand him.”
“And again, no.” The queen drew herself up. “He is a mortal who has eaten of the food of the fey. By the laws of our magic, he is mine to command. He will not even remember who you are unless I will it.”
Horror crawled through Jack’s bones. A low growl thrummed in his chest.
Queen Selena was not impressed. “Your situation is precarious. That is why courtesy was invented, vampire. It helps one navigate choppy waters.”
The way she said choppy brought knives to mind. Jack flinched inside, but forced his face into a neutral mask. “Then perhaps we can move directly to business,” he said, wiping all emotion from his voice. “I do not have time to waste.”
“Time,” said the fey queen. “Time is all I have had, and all I would have if the leaders of the mortal realm had their way. You have locked my people in here for a thousand years with no connection to the living world. All that is left to us is death and dissolution.”
“This realm is as broad as you require, Your Majesty. Whatever you need—food, supplies, even treasure—is here. That was all part of the terms.”
“We are forgotten and fading from existence. I refuse to suffer this indignity one moment more.”
“I am sorry your banishment is so tedious,” Jack said, though he frankly didn’t care if Queen Selena shriveled and died. During the early wars between Vidon and Marcari, the Dark had torn entire villages to pieces, scattering bones and flesh over the countryside like a horrifying rain.
“How kind.” She gave a bitter smile. “But I will not mistake polite words for leniency. Nor should you underestimate me. I will not rest until I am free.”
“Your position does not come as a surprise.”
What did surprise him was that she hadn’t slain him where he stood. The queen had too many advantages—the prisoners, the army in the mountain, Haven and even a window of opportunity while the Company was in shambles. There was no reason to waste time talking to him and Lark. She wanted something they had—something she couldn’t take by force. Jack’s gaze shot to where Kenyon lay stiff and suffering at the foot of the throne. Take the queen and tear out her throat. Now. Before it is too late.
But she had the royal couple. If they struck before he could protect them, the other fey would kill them all. Reluctantly, Jack decided to play her game to see where it would lead. “If you will not let me have my wolf, then will you return the prince and princess?”
Queen Selena looked amused. “No, because as long as I have them, I have your attention. It’s hard to establish a bargaining position from exile beneath a lake.”
“Bargaining position?” Jack asked.
/> Lark turned to Jack, her tone urgent. “No bargains. We’ll never get what we want in the end. That’s how it works. It’s a point of honor with the Dark Fey never to strike a straight deal.”
“Is my word as a fey and a queen not binding?” said the Dark Queen, giving Lark a poisonous look.
“Your word binds to the letter and only to the letter,” Lark replied.
“Just so,” Selena said, her words as silky as a mink stole. “Let us wager the least of our prizes so you can see me in action. I swear a solemn oath that any larger deals will be conducted in precisely the same way.”
Lark stepped on Jack’s foot to get his attention. Her face was white with dread. “Jack.” The word was a desperate plea that he would decline.
The Dark Queen snapped her fingers. Kenyon’s head rose at once, ears swiveling forward. “Come, wolf.”
Stiffly, he rose, moving as if he was ancient instead of a creature in his prime. Jack guessed with a sickening lurch that contact with the silver chain was slowly poisoning the wolf’s blood. The great beast hobbled down the steps, nails clicking on the marble, to sit at the queen’s feet. It was so large, its head nearly reached her shoulder. The yellow eyes were blank, stripped of will. The queen patted his head. “A beautiful animal, don’t you think? I’ve kept him in wolf form since he arrived.”
If Jack was appalled before, this was doubly bad. His hands curled into claws, aching to shred and tear. “Werewolf physiology is delicate. They have to shift, at least for a few minutes a day.”
He had a sudden vision of red-haired Lexie, Therrien Haven’s daughter. She was already planning her wedding with Kenyon. Her love would give him a real home and family. That was everything Jack had ever wanted for his ward—everything the young man had wanted for himself—and the queen was about to make a mockery of those dreams.
“Or he will get stuck as a wolf, or stuck partway. Yes, I know. That gives me some assurance you won’t dither. Make your bargain quickly or I build a kennel. Your choice.”
Jack looked into the wolf’s eyes, searching for some remnant of intelligence or personality. There was nothing there. Horror crawled along Jack’s bones. Lark slipped her hand into his and he clasped it, grateful for the anchor.
“What is your price for his return?” Lark asked, quietly taking the lead. This was her area of expertise. “And by that I mean his return to our custody, whole and intact, with no enchantments upon him or ties to you or your realm, your court or magic—and no lasting effects for him or his descendants, relations, loved ones, friends or associates, property or business interests for all time.”
The queen laughed. “He is lucky you are here, Lark of the Light Fey. You bargain with skill. The price is simple. I will throw a banquet tonight, and you and Jack will dine with us. There will be no enchantment on the food, no tricks. In fact, I swear that you can eat and drink in perfect safety while you are within my borders.”
“Swear the same for Kenyon and the prince and princess,” Jack demanded.
The queen looked annoyed but nodded. “If you dine with us.”
Lark spoke next. “And how long in mortal hours will the banquet last?”
The queen sighed. “No more than three.”
It was a good catch. It was possible to end up a permanent guest at a banquet without end. Jack and Lark exchanged a long, troubled look. The one thing that gave Jack comfort was that the queen wanted their trust. If this was a preliminary deal, a gesture designed to lure them in, there was a good chance she’d let them win.
“There will be a trick here somewhere,” Lark said, obviously not sharing his opinion.
“I know.” Jack stirred restlessly. He was better with a weapon in his hand. “But if we don’t throw the dice, the game is over before we start.”
Selena wound her fingers through the beast’s collar of silver chain and twisted, pushing the silver links against its skin. The wolf whined, and Jack could see pink, raw flesh where the fur had already burned away. I am going to kill her. That’s a solemn vow.
“We’ll attend your dinner,” he said in an even voice. “You can stop strangling my friend.”
He saw the flash of dismay in Lark’s eyes, but there was no other possible course of action. “I’m sorry. Something has to be done.”
“It certainly does.” The queen laughed softly, an amused sound that raised the hair along his skin more effectively than any evil cackle. “And this is just the first item on my list.”
Jack couldn’t wait until they got to the big-ticket items.
Scratch that. He dreaded the answer.
Chapter 24
“You don’t understand,” said Lark, waving her hands in exasperation. “You don’t dine with fey. For some clans, dinner parties are considered dull unless somebody dies.”
Jack looked up from where he reclined on a puffy piece of furniture somewhere between a couch and a bed. “Suddenly I’m not so anxious to join your family for Thanksgiving.”
“We don’t have Thanksgiving. We have the Feast of the Dead.” Dispirited, she fell onto the cushions beside him.
“Was that before or after you poisoned your guests during the appetizer course?”
Lark clapped a hand over her eyes. “Don’t joke about such things.”
Jack grunted, letting it drop.
They’d been shown to this room to rest—and be good little prisoners—until the banquet. Instead, they were treating it as an opportunity to regroup and plan. Lark needed it. Whatever she’d expected, Selena’s castle wasn’t it.
If circumstances were different, their chambers might have been nice. The walls were draped with tapestries and the floor strewn with soft cushions. A sunken bathing pool of dark green marble steamed in one corner, separated by a curtain. Fey liked their luxury baths. It reminded Lark strongly of the bedchambers back home.
Home seemed like an impossible dream. She’d been on missions before, but none so far from any chance of rescue. She wondered if Sam and Mark had made it back to the capital and if reinforcements had arrived from the other Company sites. Had they identified the dead from the headquarters’ blast? Would she live to find out?
“What do you make of Selena?” Jack asked unexpectedly.
Lark blew out her breath. “I think she’s everything I was warned about and more. She’s lying about the kingdom being completely sealed. The Blackthorns are here. They’d never come through the gates if they thought they couldn’t get out again.”
“Therrien said the gates are cracking open. They’re just farther along than he thought.” Jack folded an arm behind his head, showing the thick muscles of his biceps. “Selena can’t get out because the spell was focused on her, but her two strongest lieutenants can squeak through. It probably takes a hideous amount of power, which is why none of the other Dark Fey are escaping.”
“That opening will only last as long as Therrien does,” Lark said softly. Her heart wrenched at the thought of the trapped fey. “The queen has limited time to put her plans in motion before that crack in the gates falls shut again.” When Therrien died.
“No wonder she’s forcing our hand.” Jack said, shifting closer so they touched. His solid presence comforted her, easing her sadness. “And yet there is a reckless element I don’t understand. I remember the queen as a precision planner. Grabbing Amelie and Kyle was a huge risk.”
Lark tensed. “It could be her people suffer beyond the intent of the banishment.”
“How so?” he asked.
Lark shifted away, suddenly needing space. Jack frowned. “What is it?”
She hesitated, still caught in the habit of silence. And yet, at the heart of the Dark Queen’s realm, the cost of saying nothing might be too high. “Without an anchor in the mortal world, the fey do not thrive.”
“An anchor?”
“A co
mplex subject. It is enough to say we need contact with the mortal realm to keep our strength.”
Understanding flickered in his eyes. His words in the Land Rover came back to her. Rumor has it your numbers are declining. “As long as I’ve lived and dealt with the fey, I never understood how that worked.”
“There’s no reason you would. The point is that if Selena is any kind of queen to her people, she’ll try to end the banishment for their sake as well as hers.”
Jack’s eyes went icy. “I’ve seen what the Dark Fey—what Selena will do. We cannot let her out.”
A frisson passed down Lark’s spine. He was absolutely right. The queen’s first move would be revenge.
Lark shifted nervously. Between them, she and Jack had almost everything with them that it would take to open the gates. Selena hadn’t searched them yet, but Lark was certain that would come before the day was over. It was time to take precautions.
She leaned across and kissed Jack’s cheek, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I need to hide the ring. Just in case we’re being watched, I need a moment of privacy.”
Only the slightest nod showed that he’d heard her at all. She rose, enjoying Jack’s attention as she stretched with catlike languor. “I need to wash up. It would be an insult to arrive smelling like I’ve been thrashing through the woods for days. Which is exactly what I’ve been doing.”
“You’re seriously going to wear the clothes they brought?” His eyes were bright with interest.
Jack’s outfit wasn’t too bad, though it looked like the height of fashion from the Dark Ages. Lark’s appeared to belong to a Sword and Sorcery centerfold. “At least they’re clean.”
She slipped off her overshirt, letting it drop as she padded to the bath. Once in the room, she looked around for peepholes. She found none, but that was no guarantee there was no surveillance. After drawing the curtain around the bathing pool, she cast a spell on the water, raising a fog of steam to confound any watching eyes.
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