And that vicious reputation was only based on what other fae knew of Dagnu. More went on in the gladiator cells than the fae cared to think on. If Oberon had slighted Dagnu and stolen me from him, it would explain why Dagnu had reappeared, after Oberon’s death, to reclaim me. I wanted to believe I’d changed and grown enough to face Dagnu, but a mix of fear and hatred left me uncertain.
“It seems he hasn’t forgotten me.”
“Did you think he would?”
“I’d hoped…”
“And what do you plan to do about him?”
“Right now, nothing.”
“That would be unwise,” an ethereal, flowing voice said from behind us.
Ailish drifted closer. A dark hooded cloak had replaced her blue gowns. She looked like something that lured humans into the woods to devour them later.
“Fire Lord.” The hood dipped, but she kept it up, hiding her face.
Sirius nodded.
“Your colors are much returned. Faerie approves of your choices.” The hood swung my way. I glimpsed her beautiful half, her lips turned up in the light, but the hood’s shadow hid her eyes. “Your jailor would rather see you dead at his feet than free. Ignore him at your risk. He will hinder your path ahead. There is a way to have your vengeance and win half of Faerie’s heart, but it remains to be seen if you are strong enough.”
“If I’m not?”
“You’ll die.”
Of course. “Is there an end to all of this that doesn’t see me dead?”
“Those answers will cost you too much, mortal. Ask lesser questions.”
She had helped me revive Eledan, which had led to Oberon’s death, but that only meant she’d helped me remove Faerie’s pretender king. With Sirius’s words still fresh, I recognized that Ailish had her own motives, and they involved Eledan, of that I was certain. “Eledan made you a promise. What is it?”
“We bargained, he and I.” Her mouth moved seductively, keeping her smile.
“Does it involve me?”
“Your fates are entwined.”
Apparently, getting answers from her was as easy as getting them from Eledan, or any fae. They did so enjoy playing their word games. The problem was, I didn’t have an eternity to figure out the rules.
“You helped me before, so help me now. Tell me what I have to do to make everything right. You wanted me to help Faerie, and that’s what I’m doing. So help me.”
Sirius’s tek-hand tightened around mine, offering support without making it obvious. He’d heard the frustration in my voice.
“You are becoming more. Beyond that, I cannot say.”
“More what?”
Her hood lifted. The shadow retreated up her face but still cloaked her eyes.
This was useless. “What can you tell me?”
“Everything and nothing.”
Sirius began, “Ailish—”
“Hush, guardian.” She took me by the shoulders and dug her fingers in. Head bent low, she said, “You must survive yourself to unlock your truth. You know this.”
What did that even mean? “I don’t understand your riddles.”
“You will.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
“Because discovery is worthless without the journey.” Her slash of a smile cut across her face. “You know how this ends. You’ve always known.”
Those were Dagnu’s words. Part of me wondered if she’d brought Dagnu here, but why? She seemed to want to help, but fae were never what they seemed. She wanted me for something—needed me even. Or needed what was inside me.
“Witch,” Sirius snarled, “if you don’t give us something of worth, I’ll burn the rest of your face.”
I expected the words to hurt, for her to shriek, but she cackled and stepped back, freeing me from her icy grip. “Oh, Fire Lord, you never change. It is a good thing she is by your side to quench your flames.”
“Can you give us anything of worth?” I asked.
More cackling, and I questioned Sirius’s past romantic choices. “Of worth? Yes. Priceless, in fact. In the Autumnlands library, there is a book buried beneath the dark. That book is more than it appears. The secrets hidden inside its pages will help you, but you’ll open it to find nothing in its pages. Bring it to me and I’ll read its words.”
“Why can’t you get it yourself?”
She lifted her chin. “I am forbidden from entering the Autumnlands knoll.”
“If you speak of Eledan’s book, my knoll was destroyed, the book along with it,” Sirius said.
Oberon had plucked a book from Sirius’s library shelves and used it to demonstrate where the Hunt had come from. The Origin of the Wild Hunt. Right after, the Hunt had devoured Sirius’s knoll and Aeon, and it would have killed us all if Talen and Shinj hadn’t saved us.
“Not destroyed, just healing… and sleeping.” Ailish turned her attention to me. “Bring me the book and you’ll have your answers.”
It was a lead, but I didn’t trust Ailish. “What do you get out of helping me?”
Her hood shifted, deepening the shadows. “It is time for all of Faerie’s children to return and for Faerie to be whole as She was before the sidhe lords demanded order.”
“You want the unseelie back?”
She nodded once, a slow bow of the head.
“How is that possible?”
“It has already begun.”
“How, when they were banished far from Faerie?”
“All of the dark are drawn to the fountains of light.”
Sirius sighed. “The ages have ravaged her mind. Asking her more questions will yield fewer answers. We know Eledan’s book survives. That is something. As for the rest, she’ll drive you insane with her questions masquerading as answers. Enough, Kesh.”
Ailish cackled. “You spoil my fun, guardian.”
Fun? Was that all this was to her? Was I worth nothing more than a joke?
“This is my life!” I snapped. “And I don’t have much of it left to live, so don’t fuck with me, fairy. If you have something to tell me, tell me straight.” I hovered my hand over my whip.
Ailish grinned. Sharp, pointed teeth glinted behind her red lips. “I’ll tell you this for free, Messenger. You are on the cusp of change, not just for you, but for all of Faerie and Her children. Remember, you will need both the light and the dark to prevail, but do not allow either to seduce you. You must harness the power within you and the power you have gathered around you, or your battle will end in failure.”
As her outline ghosted away, I wondered if Eledan would have given me more useful answers.
I slumped against the terrace wall and mumbled, “Go to Safira, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”
“That is the opposite of what I said.”
I had no choice but to laugh at Sirius’s growl. He appeared alarmed that I would dare laugh at him, then his stiffness eased and the tiniest smile cracked his armor. That smile warmed me through.
“All right.” I let the laughter fade. “It wasn’t a complete loss. We know we need the book. I don’t suppose you read the book?”
“Did I read a book written by a nothing prince filled with pages of woe-is-me? No, I did not read his self-indulgent book. I don’t understand how the book found its way to my library or why Eledan did not destroy a thing detailing his nightmare.”
Because he needed it, should his nightmare ever slip its leash; it would have answers. “We have a lead, and Ailish believes the dark fae are returning. That will go a long way to healing Faerie’s rift, if it’s true. Peace will return to Faerie once all Her children are returned. She told me that before.”
He was closer, his warmth wrapping me tight. I looked up and lost my train of thought deep in his green eyes. His hand brushed up my arm, his gaze tracking its progress as though fascinated that he could touch me without suffering painful repercussions. I recalled seeing him nailed to a cross and the moment he’d sacrificed everything to save Aeon and me before the crystal pal
ace fell. It seemed impossible for this ancient child of Faerie to look at me as though I were the special one. “We just have to figure out how to get a star back into the sky without killing me.”
“Faerie hasn’t killed you yet, Messenger,” he said. Was that a touch of pride in his voice? His words pulled my gaze to his lips. I recalled their scorching touch as he’d unleashed years of desire on me. We stood as close again now, anticipation a flickering fire between us that could turn into a raging inferno at any second.
“Not for lack of trying, guardian.”
He bowed his head, just enough for desire to sing through my blood. Between one moment and the next, he hesitated, withdrew, let me go, and stepped back, slamming his barriers back into place. “We should prepare to leave Safira. Trouble will find us the longer we stay here.”
I nodded. “You’re right. Inform the others.”
He left the terrace, taking his warmth with him, leaving me chilled. We’d shared a moment, but he’d cut it off before it could become something more. Perhaps that was for the best? If he’d been burned by love before, and that wound still pained him, what could I offer beyond more heartache?
Sota emerged from the same doorway.
I freed my whip and clutched it in my fist. The cool, solid feel of tek grounded me and helped shake off the sense of loss Sirius had left me with. “Are you okay with this?”
“Whatever you want, Kesh, I’m with you. Maybe telling Kellee and Talen would be best. You did say no more secrets…”
“No. Kellee will stop me, and Talen will always defer to Kellee. I have to do this without them. One last thing. They’ll understand.” I checked that nobody was at the windows to see us leave and vaulted over the low wall, dropping into the gardens below.
Sota landed effortlessly beside me. “Just like old times.”
And just like old times, I had some trouble to clean up before leaving Safira.
Safira’s settlement center felt like a dream populated by wild wonders. Before I left Faerie as a queenkiller, I’d only been exposed to the sidhe, the regal light fae who inhabited the courts and attended the arena battles. I’d heard tales of weird and wonderful creatures, but without seeing them, they’d been no more real than humans had been. Drifting among Safira’s population, I refrained from staring, not because they were strange, but because they were so beautiful in their differences. They observed me, warily stepping out of my way or stopping to watch Sota and me pass. We weren’t subtle—me with my tek-whip and Sota, a tek-man, at my side. Most of the folk shied away. Some wore suspicion, curiosity and dislike openly on their faces. At least they were honest, unlike the sidhe lords I’d grown up with.
“Do you think Kellee has a tail?” Sota asked.
“What?”
Sota stared at a furry-faced, pointed-eared fae with a long, sweeping tail. She strode by us, flicking her tufted tail. “He’d rock a tail.”
I snorted. “He doesn’t have a tail.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve seen his…” I made a cupping gesturing, realized I had no idea what I was miming, and dropped both hands.
Sota scrutinized my face. “All of him, all at once, every inch?”
I didn’t have enough real memories of seeing Kellee completely naked and made a mental note to correct that. Dream memories didn’t count. I’d gotten pretty familiar with him in my dreams, but in reality, we’d done little more than fool around. However, there was one thing I knew for certain. “Yes, no tail.”
“I guess.” Sota sighed. “He wears pants too well to hide a tail.”
Did vakaru once have tails? It felt like they should have tails. I’d ask Kellee, when he wasn’t so tense.
We meandered down winding pathways between high houses, Sota enthralled like a kid visiting Calicto’s Galactic Zoo for the first time.
“Hulia has a tail,” I added.
He tripped and caught himself. “Really?”
“I haven’t seen it, but she’s intimated a few times.”
His eyed widened. “I need to see it. Do you think she can open jars with it?”
I laughed.
His expression swiched toward curiosity, then he twisted to catch sight of his own ass, circling on the spot. “Do you think I could get one?”
“Aren’t you content with ten fingers?”
He stopped circling and jogged back into step beside me. “But to have a tail! Don’t deny it, you’d totally have one if you could. I’ve seen you looking. You have tail envy.”
“I don’t want a tail.” I shoved him playfully off his stride.
“You know your whip basically is a mechanical tail, right?”
“Wraithmaker.” A huge boulder of a fae blocked our path, bringing an abrupt end to our chat. “Overseer Ryande has requested your presence.”
Dagnu. I nodded, swallowed the acid burn on my tongue, and followed the huge fae through darkening alleys into a market slung with fairy lights and sprinkled with glittering wisps. It would have been pretty if not for the fae leaning against the edge of a table. His leather whip, clipped to his hip, caught my eye, and for a few seconds, it was all I could see. That whip had once been my whole world. I’d lived by it. Planned my words around it. Killed and bled so I didn’t have to feel its bite again. Old fears tried to clutch at my heart and shrink me into a ball of whimpering saru. After everything I’d been through, every monster I’d faced, I’d thought I’d be prepared to see that long cut of leather again. I wasn’t.
Dagnu pushed away from the table, leaving the dozen or so common-fae gathered behind him. “So faithful, saru. You return to me, as you should.”
“Kesh, I—” Sota began. Four fae rushed him, captured his arms, and yanked them behind his back. A kick to the back of his knees dropped Sota to his knees. He fought, pulling one of them off balance.
“Wait, stop!” I pushed out a hand toward Dagnu. “Stop! Let him go.”
“Kesh, let me hurt them.” Sota’s glare burned. He could kill them all. All I had to do was say yes.
“No.” I held Sota’s stare. Don’t. We did not need more enemies. “Just stop,” I told Dagnu. “Let him up. He won’t hurt anyone.”
Dagnu tapped the coiled whip against his thigh. I’d used to pass the minutes by those taps, knowing the pain would begin soon. “I don’t think they want to.” His deep, rough voice wasn’t like the smooth, musical tones of most sidhe. I’d always likened it to stone grinding against stone, and that hadn’t changed. What had changed was how much smaller he seemed. I remembered him as a large, dark threat, a nightmare condensed into fae form, but that terrible sense of foreboding had been lost during my time spent with Oberon.
I was the nightmare now. All the fae here knew my history. Queenkiller. Oberon’s obsession. The massacre at New Calicto. They knew it had been me and the drone, now shaped as a man, I’d brought along. I was no friend to the fae.
“Dagnu, this is between you and me.”
He crossed into the open area at the center of the square, his fae entourage forming a circle around us. Anticipation zinged in the air, lifting the fine hairs on the nape of my neck. We had formed something of a fighting arena, and here I was, facing my old teacher, but not as his student, as his equal.
He wore leather from head to toe, but his wasn’t like the scout leathers, or even the sidhe leathers from the courts; his were made of patches of leather sewn together, reds and browns with a few greens thrown in.
“Do you still feint left when your opponent tackles you high?” He laughed and shook his head, his tails of braids lashing down his back. With a flick of his fingers, the whip tails dropped. “I tried to beat that out of you, saru, but your stupid head wouldn’t learn.”
Sota bucked, trying to pull free. I pushed my hand down, letting him know he didn’t have to fight this for me. I had this under control, just the way I liked it. The only hold Dagnu had over me was the one I gave him.
“Would you like to find out?” I asked.
“Come, kneel to me, saru.” He reached behind him with his free hand and produced an iron saru collar. My vision blurred, doubling that ring of metal. A loud thudding hammered inside my head. “You should never have been allowed off your leash. Had you stayed with me, the king and the queen would still be alive, and Faerie would not be suffering as She is.”
He tossed the collar on the cobblestones between us. It clattered, ringing like a bell far and wide.
I could do this. He was just another fae. I’d fought much worse. I had to do this. I approached him, passing the collar, and stood eye to eye with the only fae I despised more than Eledan.
“Kneel,” he sneered.
How similar they were in their demands.
“Let Sota go and I’ll kneel.”
He held my stare, testing for lies in my gaze, and then jerked his chin to those watching from behind me. A glance back revealed Sota climbing to his feet and shaking out his clothing. He nodded to let me know he was okay. I smiled back at Dagnu.
“Well?” He sniffed. “Kneel.”
Blinking slowly, I bowed my head and started to dip to my knee. The tek-whip sizzled in my grip. Down another inch. Power thrummed across my skin. He believed I hadn’t changed, believed I was still the Wraithmaker trying to make the fae see me, make them love me, as though I needed their adoration like I needed air to live. But the Wraithmaker was dead, and the woman in her place was something far worse.
I tossed my whip back, stretching out its tail in the air behind me. Sparks rained. The whip lashed in a wide arc, looping it over my head, and slung itself around Dagnu’s neck. The surprise on his face turned to rabid hatred. He snarled and snapped, making the kind of noises unbefitting a lordly sidhe.
I yanked on the whip, jerking him by the neck. He stumbled and dropped to his knees, our positions reversed.
I stood over him, my whip’s coils sizzling into his fae skin. “I am your queen now.”
A shimmer of movement at his side. A bone dagger flashed. I danced back too late, and sharp pain flashed up my thigh. He slashed again, wildly, and snatched my whip from around his neck while I stumbled.
He flung the dagger. The blade hit me low in the waist on my right side, tearing through clothing and skin before clattering to the ground behind me. The shock was worse than the pain. He’d gotten through my defenses. He’d made me bleed.
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