by M. J. Scott
“Holly? Are you hurt?” I demanded.
“A little,” she said with an odd smile. Her eyes tipped back in her head and she toppled over.
“Liam!” I yelled as I lunged for Holly.
He twisted and we looked at each other helplessly.
“We can’t leave Reggie,” he said.
Nausea rose in my throat as I looked down at Reggie’s face. She looked peaceful, at least. “We have to,” I whispered. “Reggie is dead. Holly’s still alive. We have to take Holly.” My voice cracked and I bit back a sob, eyes stinging with more than smoke now.
Liam looked sick but he nodded once and then eased Reggie back onto the bed. He traced a cross on her forehead as I bent to Holly, trying to see where she was hurt. Her left side was wet and my hand came away red. Too red.
“She’s bleeding. A lot. I don’t suppose you’re a healer?”
Liam shook his head. “I’ve never had that talent.”
“All right.” I squared my shoulders. I could cauterize the wound, but that would leave Holly with scars that would never be healed. And wouldn’t do a damn bit of good if the damage was internal. I thought fast, trying to remember the lessons Simon had given me in first aid. Stop the bleeding. Get help.
“All right. I’ll bind the wound and then we carry her. Down into the tunnels. As fast as we can.”
I only hoped we would be fast enough.
We made it to the tunnels and I frantically stretched out my senses, trying to work out where Simon was. There was a whirl of sensation as I found first Mother and Hannah and Father, deep within the boundaries of the Brother House. I didn’t have the breath to spare to sigh with relief, but I closed my eyes and muttered a quick prayer of thanks, not caring what god might be listening to me. Then tried for Simon again.
I found him at last. Not in the hidden ward as I’d hoped, but in the Brother House, though not with the rest of the family. I tightened my grip, looked down at Holly’s pale face, thought of Reggie, back there in her room, with fire all around her. And then I did the only thing I could. I kept running.
* * *
There was no sleep for any of us for the rest of the night. I helped Simon with Holly, waiting with my heart in my mouth until he pronounced her out of danger. And then I did anything anyone told me would be useful.
The Templars beat back the Beasts, but there was a steady stream of wounded, amongst both the Templars and the hospital patients and staff.
And, as the sun rose and the grim task of finding bodies began, we realized that several of the Fae healers were missing. Or dead, maybe. There were some parts of several buildings where the fire had taken hold and it would take a long time to determine if there were bodies within.
The morning brought rain, unusual for the City at this time of year, but it felt right somehow, as though the weather itself was mourning with us.
It took until midday before anyone had time to remember that the negotiations were due to start that night. Several of the delegates suggested calling the whole thing off and going after the Blood and the Beasts with all our strength.
Surprisingly, it was Guy who talked them back around. Amongst the dead Beasts was Henri Favreau. The other Beast Kind corpses that the Templars could identify belonged to the same group of rogues as him. Which meant there was no way to prove a connection to any particular pack. Wholesale slaughter wasn’t the answer.
We had to do what we could to try and rebuild a peace, even if that looked like a near impossible task just now. Guy was rumpled and a bruise blossomed around his eye, and all of us knew that Holly had almost died during the attack. Perhaps it was that—that he could still speak of peace when he had ample right to want revenge—which let cooler heads prevail.
Father Cho and the Guilds sent people to secure the area chosen for the negotiations—a plain outside the City limits that offered no cover for any ambushes and didn’t have any structures for follow-up explosions. Much like the place where the treaty had first been forged. Makeshift stands would hold the rows of chairs and the metalmages would conjure a speaker’s circle up from the earth. If it rained we would all get wet, but other than that we would be in a location difficult to sabotage. The delegations would use some of the Templars’ field headquarters tents to retire and discuss and privacy would come from wards.
It was as good as we could manage.
All that remained to be seen was whether or not the queen would keep her word and come to negotiate.
By late afternoon I was exhausted and snatched a few hours’ sleep. It was nearly six by the time I awoke, which gave me just enough time to eat and change and drink several cups of one of Bryony’s teas that scalded the fatigue from my body but left me feeling somewhat strange, as though I couldn’t quite feel my feet on the floor.
I assumed it wouldn’t impair me in any real way or else Bryony wouldn’t be feeding it to half the delegation. Unless of course, Bryony was the mastermind behind the attacks and she was taking us out in one fell swoop. The unlikeliness of this scenario made me want to giggle and I bit my lip hard, not looking at anyone as I climbed into one of the carriages waiting to take us to the negotiation field.
The tea did nothing to soothe the nerves that churned my stomach and made my palms damp. This night had the potential to shape the rest of my life. The rest of all our lives.
And Fen would be there, a small voice in my head chimed in. I shoved it away. I didn’t care about Fen, I told myself.
I nearly believed the lie.
Chapter Twenty-three
FEN
I watched the queen warily as we stepped into the carriage that would take us back to the City. I’d been watching her warily for the last three days—had it been only three? I was losing track of time here in the Veiled World—trying to learn anything I could from her that might help me survive her mercurial moods.
She had kept me by her side every waking moment. There had been no sleeping moments. I should have been exhausted, but whatever the queen had done to me, it had apparently allowed me to connect to the source of power that gave the Fae their stamina, as I was still wide awake.
Of course, it might also have been the never-ending adrenaline-inducing tightrope of trying not to provoke the queen. In my days with her I had seen her weep and rage and fall into frozen silence.
She also spent hours asking me to see for her, sending my mind down countless possible futures. The fact that I could now do so without pain and that I could also turn the ability off when I needed to was a joy. I should have been grateful to her.
And maybe I would have been, if she had taken the memory of Saskia from me at the same time she’d burned away whatever had been tangling my control of my powers.
But she hadn’t and I couldn’t forget. No more than I could forget Holly and Reggie. Nor could I forgive.
But I would accept the price the queen had demanded if she managed to hold the treaty together. I had promised to serve and I would do so for as long as she required. Of course, I risked being assassinated by one of her other courtiers, none of whom seemed particularly happy with my presence in the court. I was thankful that the Fae could not kill with just a look or I would have been dead many times over since I’d come to Summerdale. Lord sa’Eleniel was amongst those who disapproved of me. He tapped his cane and turned his back on me whenever our paths crossed.
Being the queen’s new favorite was an uneasy position.
As the queen settled back against the cushioned seats of the carriage, I cleared my throat.
“Do you have any final instructions for me, Your Majesty?” I asked.
“You will know what is required of you.” Her voice was distant and I took it as a sign that I should be silent. I was happy enough to comply. The queen had not been impressed when one of her court had pointed out that I was a named delegate in the human delegation and would therefore, to fulfill the requirements of treaty law, need to sit with them. I could only be with the queen during the breaks when the humans spar
ed me.
Personally I thought it unlikely that the humans would welcome me back, but they couldn’t gainsay treaty law any more than the queen could. So they would have to let me be with them, even if they didn’t acknowledge me.
Which meant I could at least see Saskia. Not speak to her—that would be too cruel—but see her for a little while longer and store away a few more memories to take with me back to Summerdale.
* * *
As I had anticipated, Guy almost exploded when I appeared by the humans’ allocated seats and presented myself to Father Cho. Only Father Cho’s restraint saved me from a fist to the face or worse. The Abbott General’s eyes were cool though, as he instructed me where to sit—next to Brother Anthony in one of the front rows. Just as I turned to leave, he called my name.
“Yes, Father?” I said.
“There are things you should know,” Father Cho said. “After the ceremony, find me.”
“Yes, Father. I will.”
I thanked him again and went to find my seat, wondering what it was that he wanted to tell me.
I’d been hoping to be dismissed to the back row, where I would be able to watch Saskia. Now I wouldn’t be able to see her without turning and that would not win me any favor with the queen.
Still, I couldn’t help searching the crowd for Saskia’s face. Eventually I spotted her standing with Bryony. At first she didn’t see me but all too quickly, her eyes found mine. They went wide, then she blanched and turned away.
I hadn’t expected the rejection to hurt quite as much as it did.
Still, I had only myself to blame. As the sun drifted lower in the sky, the Beasts arrived and took their assigned places. Martin also sent a vicious look in my direction, reminding me that he and I had unfinished business too. Ah well, he could apply to the queen in Summerdale if he wanted a piece of me.
The thought of his face when he found out my new position was almost cheering.
As was the fact that I was still free from the visions. I’d been half afraid that once I left Summerdale, I would lose my newly gained control, but apparently the queen had done a thorough job. I opened my mind a crack to test the theory and then slammed it shut again when the press of so many people’s futures sprang up around me with the fury of a thunderstorm. It didn’t hurt, but it was overwhelming.
Time enough for that later on. I would use my sight as I could to help the Fae and the humans, but it would be easier during the negotiations, when I could focus on the one person in the speakers’ circle as the queen had taught me to do.
I looked back at the delegates only to find Bryony’s father—who had joined the Fae delegates to replace one of the dead—regarding me with displeasure. Wonderful. I had made myself persona non grata with all four races. Quite the accomplishment.
I focused my attention on the shining gold circle that looked so out of place amidst the green of the grass. As far as I could tell, the metalmages had called the metal up out of the earth. It seemed part of the field rather than being laid on top of the grass. It wasn’t as impressive as the circle at the Treaty Hall and the four platforms that marked the compass points were plain polished wood. They didn’t hold the chests and the stones—those would have been destroyed in the explosions—but they would serve as places for the leaders of the delegations to stand while they swore themselves to the service of the negotiations.
Lady only knew if those oaths would hold this time.
The field itself was so ringed and overlaid with wards that the magic shimmered like an ocean. Roared like one too, the rolling buzz of the spells ringing in the back of my head. Far more wards than the Treaty Hall. Or maybe they were just less subtle, having been hastily laid. I wondered what they felt like to the Fae and the mages who were more sensitive than I. Maybe something like the visions felt to me.
As the night turned to true dark, the first of the Blood arrived.
Lady Adeline and her contingent, accompanied by a squad of well-armed Templars..
The Blood’s seats had been divided into two sections with a barrier of wood that gleamed with wards, which I guessed was the best solution possible to the split in the Blood Court, given the tradition that each race’s delegates must sit together. Even if Ignatius had gained control over the rest of the Court, with Adeline here he couldn’t claim all their votes, and that was some small comfort.
Then Ignatius arrived, followed by a retinue of silent and subdued-looking Blood. I saw Adeline studying faces and frowning. Not good. My wrist ached suddenly and I rubbed it absently.
The Fae healers had mended the damage my chain had done to my wrist as best they could—the skin looked perfectly healthy now—but it still twinged occasionally. The iron would take some time to loose its hold on my body, it seemed. The pain was almost comforting in a strange way. A familiar thing in my new life.
When everyone was finally settled, a silence fell across the assembled delegates. The night sounds of wind and the buzzing snap of the lamps hung from poles around the square to light the proceedings were suddenly very loud.
Without the Speaker—the queen had refused to name a replacement—it seemed everyone was uncertain as to how things were to begin.
Though I was unsurprised when it was the queen herself who rose to step into the circle.
The silence deepened as she rotated to face each of the races in turn. “These negotiations have been disrupted once,” she said. “To the pain and cost of many of you. I will not tolerate further disruptions. Heed my words well.” Her veils shifted a few shades closer to gray, then lightened again.
“We will begin with the naming of the delegates, as there are changes in some delegations. We will begin with the Beasts, then the humans, then the Blood. I continue to speak for the Fae.”
She turned once more, nodded her head at Pierre Rousselline. He rose hastily and moved to the east platform to recite the names of the delegates, speaking the names with as much speed as he could muster and still remain coherent. The Beasts, it seemed, were not of a mind to challenge the queen in her current mood. At least, not openly.
The human leaders, Father Cho and the Masters of the Guilds and Barnabas Stoke, were slightly more dignified in their recitations, but they too did not linger at the south platform.
As Ignatius moved to take his place on the west platform, I straightened, preparing myself to let the visions free and see what I could see.
Ignatius nodded at the queen and then drew a folded parchment from inside his jacket and held it out to her. “Your Majesty, these delegates have ceded their votes to my control.”
The queen’s veils fluttered. She unfolded the parchment slowly and bent her head to read.
“You’ll find it is in order. You can question those assembled here.” Ignatius said.
The queen’s head lifted. “This is not the full complement of Blood delegates.” She turned to Adeline. “Lady Adeline, do you not join Lord Ignatius?”
Adeline rose in her seat. “Your Majesty, I do not. Neither do those here with me. We will cast our own votes.”
“Very well.” The queen folded the parchment. “Thank you, Lord Ignatius.” She held the paper out to him and as he reached for it, I let the sight rise, curious what I might see from the queen and Ignatius in such close proximity.
The sensation was something like time fracturing. A rain of sparks clouded my eyes, and then I saw the future roll out before me, like a series of moving pictures, clear as day.
I saw Ignatius take the parchment, saw him turn and nod at someone within the Fae delegation. Saw a rising figure and the spark of gunpowder. Saw myself throw myself forward and somehow . . . somehow manage to push the queen out of the bullet’s path. Saw myself rise to my feet and tackle Ignatius and then time fractured again.
Time sped, moving faster. There was the uproar of the negotiations, Ignatius being carried off, saw the queen rise to her feet and regain control. Then the negotiations faded and even my excitement turned to a chill. Because then the flood o
f images became a torrent and they were as I had seen all along. Death. War. Destruction. The City in flames.
I shook my head, feeling the movement in slow motion. How could that be true? If I saved the queen, how could it bring ruin upon us anyway?
But the vision clamped down around me, insistent, tearing my mind with vicious certainty.
I couldn’t interfere.
I blinked, swallowed, saw Ignatius’ fingers close around the parchment. He smiled at the queen, fangs very white in the flickering lamplight. I sat frozen as he turned and nodded to the Fae delegation.
I sprang to my feet, unable to accept that I was meant to stand idly by and watch someone die. Calling on any speck of my Beast heritage, I flung myself into motion, sprinting across the circle. The queen rose, her veils a shifting gleam of color. Behind me I heard shouts, but I was focused on the Fae behind the queen. Who had I seen? Who?
Gods. I needed Saskia’s power to sense the metal of the gun. If it was even metal . . .
There. Several rows behind the queen, one of the Fae men had half risen.
From behind me, I heard someone—Saskia, perhaps—shout my name but there was no time to pay it any heed. The Fae man was nearly on his feet.
“Stop him!” I yelled, trying to run even faster. So close now. I sprang through the suddenly confused crowd of Fae and tackled the man, throwing him to the ground.
My pulse roared in my ears as I saw fury and fear roll over his face. I tightened my grip, knowing that if he chose to use his powers on me, I was a dead man.
But still, I had stopped him. Victory flooded through me.
And then I heard the gunshot. A thunderclap of hate echoing across the field.
Sweet Lady, no.
I let go of my captive and thrust myself to my feet, but I was slow. Too slow. As I twisted toward the queen, she fell, a red stain flooding across her veils. Ignatius smiled as he watched her fall.