Unseelie Ties

by Patti Larsen

  Even better.

  Gram still appeared like me, only much more so, her perfection faded, too, along with her height. We were now shoulder-to-shoulder, though she still wore her ridiculous gown. Charlotte snorted, looking down at her paws, shrunk to a more normal size, though still large enough to give an ordinary wolf pause. And Galleytrot was Galleytrot, not pachyderm dog.

  Good enough.

  The sky began to darken as I looked up, but not from storm clouds. “Night?”

  Venner nodded, still happy, but settling as he turned toward the bank in the distance. “My lord prefers it,” he said. “Come, it's not far now.”

  The further we walked—though not far, since the king seemed to like manipulating space himself—the darker it became until it felt like full night. No moon shone over us, the sky more silver than black, plenty of light from what felt like a night sky. A very odd sensation that made me feel like I was in a dream.

  Creepy.

  The light cast everything in cold silver, from the grass to the water of the river and the leaves of the trees we approached. I thought the tunnel to the queen's palace was dark when we'd arrived. This passage through the bending forest was positively pitch.

  More creepy. I called up my demon's night-vision, but no luck. She snarled in frustration. For whatever reason, her enhanced senses couldn't cut through the black.

  So the king liked changing reality after all.

  Good to know.

  Venner's steps didn't waver as he carried on forward toward the gaping hole in the trees. I followed with a heavy heart, wondering what mess I was getting us into this time. Only Gram's fingers wound around mine and Charlotte's steady presence at my side kept my chin up.

  Galleytrot and Quaid fell behind us. I could feel their magic reaching out, keeping watch and kicked myself for not thinking of such protections in the first place.

  You have enough on your mind, Quaid sent to me when I reached for him to apologize. Let us watch over you.

  Well. Um. Okay then.

  Enter throat lump. And all kinds of guilt.

  Light flickered into life as we set foot under the trees, flashing fireflies the size of my hand creating a strobe effect quickly giving me a headache. When one flew too near I realized it wasn't a lightning bug at all, but a tiny Fey, her face all sharp angles, body glowing on and off as she floated by my cheek to study me.

  I figured it would be rude to swat at her and let her fill her boots.

  It was quickly apparent the Unseelie court was a mimic of its shining counterpart, only dressed in doom and cold metal. By the time we crossed the low bridge over the rushing stream and into the clearing beyond, I was feeling dark side deja vu.

  The lawn overflowed with watching eyes, glowing green in the darkness, looming above, lurking below. Shivers ran through me, visions of horror movie endings running through my head. The scary music played and I was the stupid girl reaching for the basement door.

  I tried to peer through the dark and make out solid shapes, catching nightmare glimpses only. Instead of sparkling Sidhe with their beautiful faces and bodies and clothing, the space flooded with Fey of all shapes and sizes, each of them wreathed in shadows they seemed to carry with them. Hulking brutes with flattened faces and skin like stone hunkered near the tree line while more tiny fairies flew about, some glowing, some carrying that pure black with them.

  Something rumbled and slithered near my feet, making me jump with a little meep. I seriously had to get a grip.

  The only things keeping me moving were momentum and Venner’s lack of concern. Not that I trusted him, really. But we hadn’t been pounced on and eaten whole yet, so I’d give the Unseelie Fey the benefit of the doubt.

  For now.

  As we drew nearer the center of the clearing, it became easier to see, light appearing from under the dais where the thrones sat. I’m not sure illumination made things much better.

  Meira and I used to hold flashlights under our chins and try to scare each other.

  Yeah. That times a gazillion.

  The underlighting told me one thing, though. The Unseelie king wasn’t against a show of his own. And despite the horrible shades cast by the white glow, throwing giant shadows against the trees, I relaxed a little.

  He was trying to scare us. Really scary people? They didn’t have to try.

  Right at the foot of the throne platform’s stairs hovered a fair share of Sidhe who looked like Venner, tall and slim, long-haired and lovely, but they were outnumbered by the grunting, knobby, animal-like or purely ugly who made up the balance of the shadow-wreathed attendees.

  On a black marble throne on a tall dais, his own pavilion arching over him, the king of the Unseelie watched our approach with half-lidded eyes. The Fey woman beside him, her lean form wrapped in tight black leather, bobbed one foot over her crossed knee, head tilted to the side, a little smile pulling the corner of her mouth.

  I thought Aoilainn and her Seelie were tall.

  The king had to be twenty feet at least, with shoulders wider than the business end of a tractor trailer.

  Yikes.

  Venner came to a halt before his king and swept into an elaborate bow while the gathered Fey fell still.

  “Your Majesty,” he said. “I have come home at last.”

  The crowd erupted into rude laughter and noises, shuffling and shifting, closing in on us further. I held my ground, keeping my calm as best I could as my fear rose. Okay. So maybe the show wasn’t that easy to brush off. They really did give me goosebumps to rival any Hollywood horror flick. Partly because I had no way of knowing if I looked like an ally or dinner to most of the court.

  Though if they tried to eat me, I swore I’d do everything I could to make sure they'd end up with a wicked case of indigestion.

  My eyes followed the towering spires, high over the trees and I felt a pang of disdain break through no matter my fear. Seriously? No originality.

  It took a moment for quiet to return. Rather than silencing his people, the king let them chatter themselves into stillness before he spoke.

  “Venemeth.” The ground under my feet shook from that one word, my whole body trembling with the force of the king’s massive voice. “I seem to recall I promised to crush your soul if I ever saw you again.”

  Mostly, after the first few words, all I heard was BOOM BOOM MUTTER GROWL. Though I caught enough of it to piece the intent together. I fought not to dig my fingers in my ears and shake them, my head ringing.

  When my hearing cleared, it was to laughter. One of the tiny, glowing Fey rushed forward and pulled on Venner's hair. The lordling ignored everyone but his king as my heart beat faster.

  He wanted to what? I shot a tight thought to Venner. You failed to mention your king hates your guts.

  What had he gotten us into?

  “My king,” Venner said, still smiling, smooth and polished as if his ruler hadn't just threatened his very existence. “Certain risks to my home have come to light. I rushed to your side to warn you before it is too late.”

  Odhran's gaze settled on me a moment, then Gram. “You bring me witches,” he said, voice dropping in volume enough I could make him out at least, though it seemed my very bones vibrated in time with the pressure of the sounds. “An old Gatekeeper.” His massive brow furrowed as he looked at Fergus, but he continued. “A wolf. And a hound of the Wild Hunt. I'm assuming this threat you mention has to do with them?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Venner turned and gestured to me. “My companions seek the threat right now.”

  I guessed that was my cue. My knees wobbled a little as I stepped forward, an aftereffect of the shaking in my bones. And fear.

  Yeah. Fear. I wasn’t whole anymore, was I? The power I’d used against Aoilainn, the magic of the maji? I didn’t have access any longer. So fear.

  Sucked so much.

  “Your Majesty,” I said, pulling on my Mom diplomat memories. “My name is Sydlynn Hayle. And I think your realm has a problem.”


  He remained silent, as did his court, as I quickly filled him in on Ameline and our encounter with Aoilainn. The Unseelie queen snorted, as loud as a gunshot, when I mentioned her counterpart, but didn't say anything.

  I wasn't sure how much to tell him and ended up spilling a longer story than I intended. The oppressive feel of his presence, the weight of the darkness and the growing feeling I had of my own tiny and fragile nature had me on edge and decidedly vulnerable, the most vulnerable I’d been in a very long time.

  So, probably babbling, but needing him to hear me and understand, I brought up the trouble at Harvard with the vampire cult as well as my grandmother's loss on Demonicon and Ameline's present gambit, the risk to Liam's life.

  I felt like I'd talked forever by the time I wound down, more than a little embarrassed by my verbal gushing, finally ending with the loss of Shaylee. Tears stung my eyes and, though I swore I wouldn't cry in front of the Unseelie king and his smirking queen, by the time I finished they both seemed intent and serious.

  And… smaller?

  Odhran exchanged a look with the Fey woman beside him. “Niamh,” he said, his voice fading to a more normal level as his body shrank, throne too, until he seemed the same size as Venner. “What say you, my wife?”

  She sat back, her own body now shrunk to manageable proportions, chewing her bottom lip. “When you first entered our presence,” she said, “and I saw the Gatekeeper, I thought the girl had returned.”

  My ears perked while I mentally kicked myself for falling for the old growing trick. Dad had done it, Ahbi. Even Galleytrot. I knew better than to be intimidated by such magic. And yet, I was Shayleeless. So I cut myself some slack and focused. “Girl, Your Majesty?”

  The queen bobbed her head. “Not long ago, one wearing that exact face and carrying Gate power came to us.”

  I glanced at Fergus who first seemed startled, then angry.

  “My grandson’s face,” he said.

  Odhran’s eyes drifted over Fergus before he nodded to his queen. “Indeed,” he said. “She claimed to be a Keeper, but she simply wore the stolen form. His power was not part of her.”

  “Unlike the one with you,” Niamh said. “He is true Sidhe.”

  Fergus bowed. “We seek that one and the power she stole, Your Majesties,” he said.

  This little chat was much more helpful than our last one. Awesome. Hope surged inside me. “May I ask how you saw through her so easily?” If I could figure that out, I could use it to my advantage. If Ameline was still here.

  The king stood. “You intrigue us, witch girl,” he said. “Come. We shall feast. And talk further.”

  Great. More eating. Though I was hungry, fair enough. “We’re on a bit of a time crunch, here.”

  The king shrugged and turned from me, arm linking with his queen. “We dine,” he said. “You may stay or go. Either way.”

  Grumble, mumble.

  Unlike Aoilainn’s court, the main clearing wasn’t host to the feast. I followed the royal couple, Sidhe of all shapes and sizes falling back into shadows as the path opened up past the pavilion dais and to another open area, already equipped with a table, chairs and a vast meal.

  My stomach grumbled while my mind churned.

  Traitor.

  Venner selected a seat and sat as though he’d never left while one of the floating, glowing Fey guided me to sit next to the king. My last feast with the Sidhe had led to lost time and Shaylee’s thralling. I could only stay alert and hope Odhran had better intentions than Aoilainn.

  “You asked how we saw through the intruder’s falsehood,” the king said as he sipped a glass of deep red wine. At least the table was well lit, though I had to force myself to keep my eyes down or on him and not let them skim the gathered Unseelie who hunkered around the edges of the light as though coming into it would harm them. “We are Unseelie.” He tapped the back of my hand with one fingertip. “It is our nature to see past the glamour of others.”

  Loud and clear. And gave me the seed of an idea, though the thought of it made my stomach churn and my mind whisper, How could you? I shoved it off, hope growing even more. “Is she still here, this girl?”

  The queen laughed, a spoon full of something sparkling hovering near her mouth. “No,” Niamh said. “We sent her off. She and her pathetic attempt to manipulate us.”

  I was liking these Unseelie more and more by the moment. Especially when the whole court rumbled with good humor. Not so scary now, these monstrous Fey. Not hiding from the light, were they, but only wanting to hear, to learn why we were in their territory. At least at the moment. I had no illusions they were on my side. But they hadn't given in to Ameline.

  “May I ask,” time to be polite, Syd, “what she was after?”

  I was wondering when you were going to get to the point, Gram growled in my head.

  “One of our souls,” the king said. “So she could be full Sidhe.”

  “I'm assuming you turned her down, my king?” Venner's smile flashed, wicked.

  “Naturally,” Odhran said. “Our souls are not lightly shared with others.”

  Which meant my idea might not work out after all. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask.

  Well, not much. I wasn't sure my heart would forgive me.

  “As I said,” I toyed with the food on my plate, the smell divine, but my appetite turned to ashes in my mouth. “I’ve lost my Sidhe soul. And I need her.”

  The king didn’t speak. Not a good sign.

  “You’ve heard of the maji?” I met his eyes, knowing I took a big risk. But when Gram didn’t protest, kick me or tell me I was being an idiot for sharing too much, I went on after Odhran nodded. “Well, when I’m whole, I’m one of them.” Okay, not quite accurate. And from the skeptical look on the royal’s faces, they weren’t buying it.

  “There’s something coming,” I said, opening my heart and my knowledge to the king and queen, letting them feel my other magicks, after which they exchanged a quick glance before their suspicion faded. “A battle, led by darkness.” Maybe not the best of terminology considering where I was, but it was the most apt description I could come up with. “The sorcerers.”

  Niamh hissed softly, leaned toward me across her husband. “Yes,” she said, intensity in her black eyes, flickers of green Sidhe fire flashing there. “I know of this. Have felt its portents.” She sat back then, gaze narrowed. “It’s possible it’s you she spoke of.”

  She? I shelved that question for the moment. “Then you understand,” I said. “Why I need a soul.” Shudder. So. Wrong. “Without Sidhe magic, I can’t do what I have to do.” Fulfill my damned destiny and all that crap.

  My other magicks protested instantly at the thought, but I had to ask. Didn’t I?

  Had to.

  The queen’s sudden sympathy almost made me cry in frustration, because I felt her magic’s answer before she spoke. “While we could supply you with what you ask for,” she said, “the soul wouldn’t be what you need, Sydlynn. Only she who is part of you can fill that gap and make you whole.”

  Okay. I knew that.

  We all do, my vampire whispered while my demon whimpered.

  I bowed my head a moment before nodding. “Thank you,” I said. “You’re right.” When I met her eyes again, she was still smiling, but with warmth. “Do you know where the intruder girl went, Your Majesty?” I could only guess. Ameline had to be back with the Seelie.

  “We chased her to our border,” Niamh said while the gathered court rumbled their pleasure, “and haven't seen her since.” She smiled at her husband, kindness vanished. Her expression was now more like Venner's. “Perhaps she convinced that ridiculous Aoilainn to accept her offer.”

  Galleytrot muttered a growl. “You were wise to turn her away, great king, wise queen,” he rumbled while the gathered Fey actually fell back just a fraction. So they were afraid of my big friend, were they? Good to know. “No pact you could make with Ameline would have ended well for your people.”

  She h
as to be in Aoilainn's court, Gram sent to me. And is probably the reason the queen refused to listen to reason.

  I shuddered at the thought. Could she have managed to take over the queen? That would be a disaster.

  No, Gram sent. But someone close to her... yes. Possibly.

  I thought of Thalion.

  Stopped.

  Cursed in my head so loud even my demon protested, as I pieced together a hungry look with a familiar phrase and a thank you I hadn’t earned.

  Bronagh.

  Of course.

  I rose from the table, bowing quickly to the king and queen. “Thank you,” I said. “It's a relief to know some of those in the Sidhe realm are willing to pay attention when their people are in danger.”

  Before the royal pair could protest our leaving, one of the small, glowing Fey streaked across the clearing and landed on the king’s shoulder. I held still, watched as Odhran’s face stilled, turned dark and, finally flashed with rage before he waved the tiny form off.

  “It seems our paths are one, Sydlynn Hayle,” he said, rising from the table with his queen at his side. His court took that as some kind of signal, wandering off with tweets, chirps, mumbles and grunts, heavy footfalls and flashing wings the song of their departure.

  The king seemed less perfect up close, his wife the same, though both had the angular beauty of the Sidhe.

  “You were received here because I was curious about you,” he said. “Have been since a Gatekeeper failed to answer the knock not so long ago.” It felt like forever to me since Liam and I saved the world, but I didn't have as many years under my belt as the king. “Your name has been whispered among the Fey, in case you didn’t know.”

  Gossip? Not sure I was happy about that. “I'm only here to make things right.” Best they both knew that in no uncertain terms.

  Why was I still here talking to them? I really, really had to go and find out if I was right.