Assassin's Blood

by Marina Finlayson

“It’s not going to magically open up for me, you know.” I looked around at them. “It’s not like your hedge around the shrine back at the Nest.”

  And if Ash was wrong about the wards, it would actively keep me out. I’d seen people caught by the hedge before, pierced by thorns that appeared from nowhere and held fast until guards, alerted by the activation of the wards, came to investigate. All of a sudden, I hoped that Ash was right. Some of those thorns had been very long.

  Evandir levelled a menacing glare at me. “Off you go, then. We haven’t got all night. Unless you’re having trouble remembering where your loyalties lie?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  I exhaled and rolled my shoulders, considering the barrier before me. Talk about a no-win situation. If I made it through the hedge, that meant Ash was right and the Vipers were free to enter, which left me with the problem of saving Lord Nox from my companions. If Ash was wrong, I was in for a world of pain.

  Well, then. There was no way out but forward, I supposed. Scanning the hedge, I found a place where the lowest branches didn’t grow quite as close to the ground and dropped to my belly. I wriggled forward, heart in my mouth, expecting to feel the sharp thrust of thorns at any moment. Somewhere far away, a fae flute was playing, so faint it was almost drowned out by the rustling and scrabbling noises I was generating.

  I had a bad moment when the strap of my dress got snagged on a branch, but no thorns appeared. I slithered all the way through and stood up, checking that the starbright was still safely hidden in my bra. “Seems like you were right.”

  Ash’s dark head followed a moment later. Somehow, his entry was less ungainly than mine, as if some invisible grease helped him slide gracefully under the hedge. Evandir and Atinna followed in quick succession, while I scowled and focused on picking bits of leaf and twig out of my hair.

  When Ash stood up, he still wore black, but now his clothes were fit for a ballroom. His silken shirt looked liquid in the moonlight, pooling across his broad shoulders and billowing in full sleeves. His belt buckle gleamed with diamonds, and his tight pants were tucked into leather boots with such a shine on them I could almost have used them as a mirror. He looked like a pirate, or some sexy Regency buck, except that his eyes glittered from behind a jewelled black mask that no pirate would have been caught dead in.

  “You’d better put your mask on,” he said.

  I nodded and tied the ribbons of the mask behind my head. Atinna and Evandir wore more glamorous outfits now, too. Like Ash’s, the faintest hint of Glamour clung to them. Keen observers would know they weren’t real, but no one at the ball would care—the majority of the guests would be using their power to devise the most outrageous costumes possible. Masquerade balls were always a hit with the fae, who loved dressing up even more than the average five-year-old.

  Atinna was in dark blue velvet as lush as the midnight sky, and her mask shimmered between blue and green as if it were made of rainbow drake skin. Evandir wore black, like Ash, but as he moved into a patch of moonlight, his tight-fitting shirt shimmered in a way that reminded me uncomfortably of snake scales. I felt sure that was deliberate. Other partygoers might think he was going for a dragon look, but I knew better. He was proclaiming his allegiance to the Vipers, and I could only wonder whether he meant it as a challenge to Ash or a threat to me.

  The sooner this guy had an unfortunate accident, the better. I almost wished we would be discovered by the guards and, as I followed Ash through the dark woods, I entertained a happy fantasy of watching some burly guard lop off Evandir’s offensive head.

  The fae flute was louder, and a light drumbeat had joined it. Laughter and the tinkling of glasses floated through the trees as faelights began to appear, bobbing effortlessly as balloons among the branches, casting a golden glow over the scene.

  Lord Thistle’s estate was a much larger version of Willow’s sith. We only had a handful of pavilions, but there were dozens here, scattered among towering oaks and smaller ornamental trees. A little stream meandered among them, occasionally swelling into a pond full of waterlilies, where fountains played. The three biggest pavilions were completely open, their roofs held up by elegant columns, and were used as common spaces, while the smaller pavilions were usually open only on one side to allow the inhabitants some privacy. Lush green grass filled the spaces in between.

  Ash skirted around smaller pavilions among the trees. Every step awakened memories in me—some happy, others sad. We passed Willow’s private pavilion, and I wondered who lived there now, or if her parents had kept it as she’d left it, hoping to one day welcome their daughter home. There was the pond I’d pushed her into the night we met, deep pink waterlilies floating serenely on its surface. There was the kitchen where I’d spent many a happy hour chatting with Zinnia and Nevith. And there were the stables. How I’d loved those horses. It had almost broken my heart to have to leave Lightning behind, but my banishment had happened so quickly I’d had no choice.

  The main pavilion was full of people, spilling out onto the surrounding grass. Some of them were clearly drunk already. One guy with ram’s horns was staggering around after a delicate-looking winged girl who would be lucky not to get impaled on them considering the way he was moving, though she laughed every time he reached for her and stumbled.

  A few more winged fae were perched on the roof of the pavilion, sharing a bottle of golden wine between them in their own private party. Below them, the pavilion was awhirl with colour. Sparkling jewels, fabulous dresses, weird and wonderful masks. Some hadn’t bothered with masks but had given themselves animal heads instead. I saw three foxes, a falcon, and several owls among the dancers.

  “Let’s split up,” Evandir said, watching the swirling crowd. Lord Thistle sat on his throne on the dais above the dancers, but the seat at his side was empty. Perhaps Lady Feronique was dancing with someone else.

  Ash nodded, and Evandir and Atinna sauntered out from the trees and made their way into the packed pavilion.

  “Remember,” Ash said softly, “they’re here to watch you. You can’t afford any mistakes. Do you still have the vial?”

  My hand crept to my breast, where the vial rode in its hidden pocket. “Of course.”

  “Are you all right?” His brown hair gleamed with golden highlights under the bobbing faelights, and his eyes glittered strangely behind his mask, full of remembered pain. “The first time is hard. I’d do it for you if I could, but …”

  “Evandir and Atinna are watching,” I finished for him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be all right.” I squeezed his hand, warmed by his concern. “What will you be doing?”

  “I’ll help you find the target. The sooner we get out of here, the better. The longer we stay, the more likely it is that someone will recognise you. I’ll take the dance floor and you check the trees.”

  The target. Did it help him to depersonalise his victims like that? To pretend they weren’t real people with names and lives and loves? It broke my heart to think what Lord Celebrach had done to his once-gentle son.

  “Lord Nox might be dancing with Lady Feronique,” I said, indicating her empty throne.

  He nodded. “Be careful.” Then, he stepped out of the shelter of the trees and disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

  I circled around the pavilion, narrowly avoiding a collision with the horned guy when he lurched into my path, but I didn’t go far. I had an illogical fear that one of the others might find Lord Nox before I could and decide to take matters into their own hands. I caught sight of Atinna’s blue dress as the dancers swirled apart and came back together, but I had no idea where Evandir was, and I’d lost Ash already, though his black-clad form should have stood out among all these bright partygoers, like a crow among lorikeets.

  Nervous sweat broke out under my arms and prickled down my cleavage. Where was Lord Nox? A blond man in a white feathered mask bowed before me, asking for a dance, but I pushed past him impatiently. My heart was hammering like a drum as I scanned t
he glittering crowd.

  There! No. As soon as the man turned, I realised it wasn’t him. Not that I was that familiar with Lord Nox, having only met him a handful of times. The masks didn’t make it any easier, though at least no one looked twice at me. I just hoped he wasn’t one of the people currently sporting an animal head. That would really screw things up.

  Someone grabbed my arm. They were lucky that dagger was still strapped in its sheath, or they might have gotten a nasty surprise. My nerves were shot.

  “Sage! Is that you? What in all the Realms are you doing here?”

  I’d found the missing Lady of Spring.

  31

  “You’re most welcome, of course,” Lady Feronique said, pulling me into a surprising hug. I could count on one hand the number of times she had hugged me growing up; things must be grim indeed in her life if she had changed this much. Or was she just doing her husband’s bidding? “But I’m so surprised to see you. Raven has been filling our heads with fears.”

  I stepped back as soon as I politely could. She might be eager to let bygones be bygones, but I wasn’t so quick to forgive. Besides, I was afraid she might feel the knife in its sheath under the flimsy fabric of my dress.

  She smiled at me in apparent delight, still holding my hands. Her dress had soft green skirts that shaded to a bodice of rosy pink, like the first blush of spring flowers. Rose buds twined through her hair, which was swept up into a messy bun from which sweet ringlets curled around her face, and the scent of jonquils clung to her. She was the embodiment of Spring.

  “I …” What the hell should I say? I’m here to assassinate your guest of honour probably wouldn’t go down well. Heard you were throwing a party, thought I’d drop in wasn’t really going to cut it, either.

  As the silence stretched between us, I threw caution to the winds and opted for the truth, or at least as much of it as I thought she could handle. I’d soon find out whether her change of heart was real or if she was just being nice to me on her husband’s orders.

  I tugged on her hand and pulled her behind one of the pillars that held up the pavilion. Now was the time for her to prove that she really had changed. “Please, don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

  “But Raven has been so worried about you.” She glanced reflexively over her shoulder, as if looking for him. “That’s all he’s talked about since the delegation from Night arrived. Where have you been? Are you in trouble?”

  “You could say that.” If you were heavily into understatements. “But I can’t tell you anything. It could cost me my life. Please, just pretend you didn’t see me.”

  It could cost Lord Nox his life as well. My embryonic plan, such as it was, depended on remaining anonymous. Suddenly, the mask I wore didn’t seem like much of a disguise. Had I really expected a few jewels and feathers to hide me from people who’d known me all my life? A faint suspicion entered my mind. Had Ash meant for me to be caught? Was I only a diversion while one of the others carried out the real assassination?

  “Your life?” Feronique asked. “Do you need help? What’s going on?”

  Uneasy, I stuffed thoughts of betrayal away. Lady Feronique was staring at me, a growing concern in her eyes, and I didn’t have time to consider anything other than my immediate situation.

  “I can’t tell you, I’m sorry. But I mean no harm.”

  A new wariness entered her eyes. “What do you mean? Why would you mean us harm?”

  I was an idiot. What a stupid thing to say. I didn’t have time for this; if Evandir or Atinna saw me talking to her, they would assume the worst. They’d think I was betraying the Vipers and one of them would kill Lord Nox, followed shortly thereafter by me. Shit, shit, shit. Why couldn’t I learn to think before I opened my mouth?

  “Do you trust me?” Desperate to cut this conversation short, I held her gaze, trying to project trustworthiness. And indeed, I was trustworthy—I was trying to save everybody’s arses here, after all. It was just that my method might look a little dodgy at first glance.

  She stared at me for a long, drawn-out moment. The notes of the fae flute swirled around us, twining in and out of the dancers’ laughter and the sounds of their feet pounding on the grass. Nerves prickled over my skin. I had that horrible feeling that people were watching me, and I didn’t dare look around to see if it was true. Ash, at least, probably was. I quivered with impatience. Any minute, he would decide my part in the mission was compromised and take matters into his own hands.

  “My daughter does,” Lady Feronique said finally. “Once before, I didn’t trust you. I judged you for the sins of your father, and I was wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. I ask again, do you need my help?”

  I shook my head. “The only thing I need from you is your silence. I won’t stay long. Please, just forget you ever saw me and tell no one that I was here.”

  Her gaze held mine a moment more, her eyes steady behind the green mask she wore. “And you swear your actions here will bring no harm to Spring?”

  “I swear that my intention here is to prevent harm to Spring. Whether or not I am successful partly depends on you.”

  She bit her lip, then nodded once decisively. “Very well. I never saw you.”

  I let out a long, relieved breath as she skirted around the dancers, back toward her throne. I shifted slightly to give myself a better view of the crowd. No sign of Evandir or Atinna, though I caught sight of a head that might have been Ash’s before a crowd of masked revellers got in the way. Perhaps I was still safe.

  A waiter passed with a tray of silver goblets frothing with pink bubbles. I let that one go; I had the feeling that Lord Nox would prefer something a little less frivolous, though it was a favourite drink here in Spring. I’d still seen no sign of the visiting dignitary. There were a couple of chairs on the dais to Lord Thistle’s right, as empty as Lady Feronique’s had been until a moment ago. She was seated next to her husband, now, and I ducked behind a dancer, careful not to catch her eye.

  A golden-haired man in a fox mask grabbed my hand and tried to drag me into the dance. The music tugged at me, urging me to join him. That was my human blood talking—humans were so susceptible to fae melodies that some of them had danced themselves straight into the grave when stolen by careless fairies.

  “No, thank you,” I shouted over the noise, tugging my hand free. “I’m looking for someone.”

  “And you have found him, pretty lady,” the man replied, spreading his arms wide.

  I laughed, shaking my head, and forced my way deeper into the crowd. I had to find Lord Nox.

  A few minutes later, having been asked to dance several more times—plus propositioned in more explicit ways and having my arse groped to boot—I emerged from the dancers on the far side of the pavilion. Food was laid out on tables here, a feast in honour of the visitors from Night: a whole dressed pig; a roasted swan with all its feathers stuck back into it so that the poor creature looked just as it had in life; trays and trays of pink sugary creations and luscious displays of fruit. As a result, a large crowd of non-dancers was hanging around. I snagged a bunch of plump green grapes and began to work my way through the crowd.

  The grapes exploded in my mouth, juicy and sweet, like little bursts of magic. The food in the Realms was almost as intoxicating as the wine. Nothing in the human world came close—except maybe chocolate. That was one earthly delight that the fae had yet to beat.

  When I was about to despair of ever finding the elusive Lord of Night, I spied a gleam of silver from under the trees on the far side of the banquet tables. Lord Nox stood there, clothed in midnight blue with silver stars picked out in shining thread all over the long cloak he wore. Raven stood at his father’s side, chatting to a couple of young women I didn’t recognise, probably also from Night.

  Damn. I faded back behind a tree, my heart pounding. The last thing I needed was to run into Raven. I had no hope of getting close to his father with him standing right there. What was wrong with him? Both of those girls were
gazing up at him with stars in their eyes. Couldn’t he do the decent thing and ask one of them to dance?

  I waited in the shadows for what seemed an eternity until one of the young women evidently tired of waiting to be asked and caught Raven’s hand instead, dragging him into the crowd of dancers. The other girl watched them go with a forlorn expression, then turned and spoke to Lord Nox. If she was asking him to dance, it didn’t work out for her. He smiled and shook his head, and she wandered off in search of a more amenable partner.

  I gulped in a nervous breath. All of a sudden, the moment was here. I slid a hand into my bra and pulled out one of the starbright flowers. It had lost a couple of petals and was looking rather battered, but the little green pod to which the remaining petals were attached was still intact, and that was all that mattered. Holding it casually between my thumb and forefinger, I hurried over to Lord Nox before someone else could get there.

  “You don’t dance tonight, my lord?”

  He glanced down at me with a smile. He had the same black, fathomless eyes as his son, though there was something a little more hawkish in his face. Raven always gave the impression that he was laughing at some private joke—perhaps it was the twinkle in his eyes. There was no such suggestion in Lord Nox’s.

  “I don’t,” he replied. “But I’m sure my son would be only too happy to oblige a pretty lady, if you will wait for his return.”

  He turned back to watch the dancers, taking another sip from his goblet. Just as I had expected, it was half full of a deep red wine, most likely an ancient vintage. Lord Thistle would have pulled out all the stops for this occasion.

  I stepped a little closer, my heart pounding, and placed a hand on his arm. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you, my lord?” I leaned into him, staggering a little as if drunk, jostling the hand that held the goblet.

  He grabbed at me with his other hand, clearly concerned I was about to fall. “Perhaps you had better sit down for a while, my lady.”