by Jayne Faith
“Petra!”
I whirled. “Bryna?”
The hallway was empty. Then I saw a shimmer like a heat mirage half a dozen feet away, and my half-sister materialized. A ball of silver sparks balancing on her palm sputtered and winked out, leaving only a rising wisp of smoke and a small chunk of metal in her hand.
“I was saving that obfuscation magic for our escape,” she said irritably, tossing the metal away. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. With the short sword clutched in my good hand, I raced after her. Bryna’s feet seemed to barely touch the floor as she flew down the stairs, her long pale hair swinging out behind her. We reached the ground floor, and she took a sharp left.
“Jasper and Eunice are somewhere this way, I think,” she said.
I wasn’t sure how she knew where to go, but I followed her with blind faith as she turned through the corridors. We got some strange looks, but most people we encountered were too inebriated to be very concerned about a couple of young women racing past. At some point I realized my disguise had been destroyed in my struggle with Darion. My cloak and wig were both on the floor where he’d tried to drag me into his room. I reached up and plucked the Sylph-long fake eyelashes from my upper lids. No point in subjecting myself to their discomfort at that point.
Bryna steered us into a corridor that was open to the sky overhead, and just as I was about to remark that I thought it was the area where Jasper and Eunice had come in, we rounded a corner and nearly crashed into them.
Eunice screeched and then slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes bugging as she silenced herself. Jasper caught me by the shoulders before I could go sprawling. After the blows to my head, my balance was a little off.
“Darion tried to kidnap me,” I said breathlessly. “Bryna pin-cushioned him with a couple of daggers, but they’re not mortal wounds. He’s pissed.”
“Here,” he said, taking off his cloak and throwing it around me. “Put the hood up. It’s better than nothing.”
I gulped air, my heart racing. “We need to get deeper in before Darion alerts someone.”
Jasper nodded grimly and then tipped his head back, scanning the sky. A black bird swooped toward us and glided down the hallway, back the way we’d come.
“Drifte will lead us to where we can find Finvarra,” Jasper said. “Let’s go before anyone tries to detain us.”
With my heart in my throat, I nodded and we set off at a swift pace, following Drifte as he disappeared around a turn.
Chapter 21
THE RAVEN SHIFTER darted ahead and out of sight. I started to speed up, but Jasper held out his arm. “Not too close. He’s going to make sure the way is clear.”
We slowed to a fast walk, and I tried to calm my thumping pulse.
“Darion said Periclase isn’t here,” I said, flipping a look up at Jasper as he strode beside me. “He’s at the Summerlands, and Darion made it sound like Periclase is in charge.”
Jasper grunted. “Finvarra is probably still calling the shots.”
Grim anticipation stole through me in a cold shiver. Taking out Finvarra would be a triple victory: it would weaken the Unseelie bid for power in Faerie if their revered figurehead was out of the picture, it would upset the military effort to take the Summerlands, and it would disrupt the Tuatha De Danann’s plans. I hoped, anyway. But first we had to get close enough to him for Jasper to have a chance to use Gae Buide.
I frowned as something occurred to me. “It’s odd that Darion is here. He’s one of the highest-ranking officers in the Duergar forces. Doesn’t really make sense for Periclase to send him to a big old hedonistic bash in Palace City.”
“It’s true,” Bryna said. “This kind of party is definitely not Darion’s style.”
I nodded. “And from what I could tell, he isn’t partaking of the festivities. There was no alcohol on his breath.”
I scowled at the memory of his mouth near my ear as he’d held my arms at my back. Yeah, I’d definitely been in a position to smell drink if he’d had even a swallow that evening.
Jasper squinted down at me and then gazed off, his golden eyes losing focus. “Aye, that is a bit odd. Perhaps Periclase felt the need to make the gesture of sending his brother here as a liaison to the battlefield. Or as part of Finvarra’s protection here.”
I snorted. “Darion was doing a shit job of security detail, if that’s why he’s here. He was a long way from Finvarra when he caught me outside.”
Drifte reappeared down the hallway, darting toward us and then banking sharply back the way he’d come.
Jasper pointed. “Let’s go.”
We all started jogging again, ignoring the stares of the revelers we passed. Fortunately, it was late enough that the majority of the guests were three sheets to the wind, or simply not in a frame of mind to be curious about four cloaked figures hurrying through the hallways after a bird.
I glanced at Bryna, who was running along to my right as Jasper dropped back a bit to make sure Eunice wasn’t having trouble keeping up.
“Any idea how close we might be?” I asked my half-sister.
“Close,” Bryna said crisply. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I overheard some of the soldiers when I was loitering around the carts. They didn’t call Finvarra by name, but their not-so-subtle gossip indicated he is in the large festival chamber of the luxury accommodations. The raven is taking us in the right direction.”
I gave a curt nod. “Good.”
“I’m going to peel off soon,” she said. “I want to find an alternate way into the festival chamber. Are you really going to try to get inside with Jasper and Eunice?”
I pressed my lips into a grimace. “Yes. Unless it looks as if that will seriously jeopardize their chances of getting in the same room as Finvarra.”
“You sure about that?” she asked, doubt painted all over her face. “That hood isn’t much of a disguise. Someone’s bound to recognize you.”
I blew out an exasperated breath. She might be right. It was probably stupid of me to try to force my way into the plan we’d already set, especially now.
“Okay,” she said loud enough for Jasper and Eunice to hear. “I’m off to the shadows. I’ll be as near as I can manage and will do what I can to assist. Watch for me.”
I nodded, and she slowed to a walk, letting the three of us go ahead. My heart dropped an inch in my chest. We’d come in as five. Now we were down to three. Worry over Oliver tried to rise up, and I did my best to squash it.
I peered ahead, trying to see into the distance of the dimly lit corridor. “Where’s Drifte?”
When Jasper didn’t respond right away, I flicked a sharp look at him.
“I think he took a left about a hundred yards—oof—” Jasper’s sentence ended in a grunt as a large form stepped out from a side hallway and nearly clotheslined him with an arm. Jasper threw his hands out to catch his balance, nimbly ducking past his attacker.
Eunice shrieked as she slipped in her effort to avoid plowing into the fray.
I skidded to a stop, shoved Eunice behind me, and reached for the stolen short sword on my belt. But before I could get properly into position, we were surrounded by at least two dozen Duergar soldiers, all with swords aimed at our throats.
I whipped around, looking for anyone who could help, but partiers within view were all scuttling away. Two hulking figures were coming our way. I recognized both of them.
“Oh no.” The words came out a bare whisper as sudden fear choked off my air.
One of the men was Oliver. The other was Darion, not even limping a little from Bryna’s dagger to the thigh. He must have had a very skilled healer nearby.
When the two men got close, I blinked, sure I was imagining things. Oliver walked freely next to Darion. I scrutinized my father’s face, looking for any signs of violence, or even just consternation at having been taken prisoner. He looked grim, but that was pretty much status quo for my father.
&
nbsp; “Oliver?” I called out.
He raised a hand in acknowledgment, but his expression didn’t shift.
My eyes flipped back and forth between Oliver and Darion, my confusion mounting by the second.
The soldiers made an aisle for the two men.
My blood uncle went to Jasper, whose arms had been restrained behind his back by two Duergar men. Darion reached for Jasper’s belt and drew Bae Guide. Darion could hold the knife, but it was still linked to Jasper, so in Darion’s hand it couldn’t be used to harm anyone else.
Darion’s lips parted as he held the weapon up to his eyes. “It’s true,” he breathed. He turned to my father. “I’m one step closer to believing you.” His eyes still on Oliver, Darion flipped his fingers in a signal, and the soldiers began muscling us around the corner and through an open door.
All of us crowded into what looked like a guest apartment. The soldiers took my short sword, which was actually Darion’s. Darion carefully set Jasper’s yellow knife on an end table. I noticed Oliver had been relieved of his sword, too.
The soldiers all filed out, leaving me, Jasper, Oliver, Eunice, and Darion alone.
My gaze locked on Oliver’s face. “What in the hell is going on?”
Oliver’s jaw muscles flexed as he ground his teeth. “I’ll let him explain.” He tipped his head at Darion.
My blood uncle strolled toward me and stopped less than two feet away, peering down at me with an icy gaze.
“What are you here for, Petra Maguire?” He spoke the words so suddenly and forcefully, I startled a little. But I held my ground.
My hands tightened into fists at my sides and glared. “I don’t have to tell you sh—”
“Tell him the truth,” Oliver cut in.
I looked past Darion at my father. “What?”
“Tell him why we’re here. Tell him what that knife is for.”
Had he lost his damn mind? I squinted at Oliver, but my father just nodded calmly.
I gave my head a slight shake. “Fine. We’re here to kill Finvarra. Jasper is—was—going to do it with that knife, Gae Buide.”
Darion’s eyes gleamed. “Where did you get the knife?”
I held his gaze. “Oberon gave it to Jasper.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Darion looked like he really, really wanted to slap me. “Why did Oberon give it to Jasper?” he ground out.
I let out an exasperated breath. Surely my father didn’t think it was a good idea to reveal the truth of our trip to Palace City.
“Because . . .” I flicked a glance at Oliver, but he nodded at me to continue. “Oberon knows that Jasper is Finvarra’s blood son. The Unseelie High King can only be killed by his own blood.”
Darion blinked a couple of times, and he just stared at me for a long moment. Then a smile began to stretch the corners of his mouth. He finally stepped back and turned to look at Oliver.
I crossed my arms. “Someone needs to start explaining. Now.”
Oliver’s lips twitched. “Turns out your uncle here has the same goal we do. Only, he didn’t know he wouldn’t be able to succeed.”
I frowned, trying to make sense of it. Then I turned on Darion. “You mean you’re here to kill Finvarra?” In my surprise, the words came out a little loud.
“Shush, woman!” Darion snapped.
Jasper moved toward Darion, his hands fisted. “Don’t speak to her that way. She’s a queen. Show some godsdamned respect, you Duergar—”
Darion puffed his chest. “You’re one to talk, you deserter.”
Oliver moved in between them, holding up his arms. “Calm down, gentlemen,” he said, his tone much too mild, his face too deadpan, for the situation we were in. “It just so happens we’re on the same team.”
I peered at my father. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re all on the same team. At least in this matter.”
I squinted at him, as if that would clarify things. Then I snorted. A laugh burbled up my throat. Everyone turned to stare at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, snickering. “This is just . . .” I gave my head a shake and looked at Darion. “So, let me get this straight. You came here to kill Finvarra. You only found out just now that he could only be killed by his own blood. And then we happened to come along, also aiming to kill Finvarra but with a weapon and more importantly the person who could actually do it.”
Oliver gave me a withering look. Darion let out an impatient breath. Even Jasper had a warning look on his face.
“Come on,” I said, spreading my hands. “You have to admit this is quite the twist of fate. I mean, not that long ago, Darion and I were trying to kill each other.”
Jasper folded his arms over his chest. “The question is, what are we going to do about it?”
“I can get you inside,” Darion said. “I can get you right up to him.”
My brows inched up, and I gave my uncle a curious head tilt. “But why? Why do you want Finvarra dead?”
“So Periclase can take his place,” Oliver supplied.
I narrowed my eyes at Darion. “But if the Unseelie knew you killed their beloved banished High King, they’d never accept Periclase as a replacement.”
“I’d planned to make it so no one would know it was the Duergar,” Darion said grudgingly. “And even if it was discovered at some point, what choice would the Unseelie have? No other Unseelie ruler has the power Periclase has. He’s the obvious successor to Finvarra.”
I wasn’t so sure the Unseelie would see it that way. Finvarra was a legend, a hero and almost godlike figure to the Unseelie. Periclase was just a king.
That devious smile returned to Darion’s face. “But now, I don’t have to worry about that. I’ve got my assassins.”
I exchanged a look with Jasper. We were there to take down Finvarra regardless of the Duergar plans. And if we had a chance to accomplish the mission, we had to take it. But we couldn’t let Darion get us killed in the backlash.
“If you can get us in, you can make sure we get out, too,” I said to my blood uncle. “In fact, we’re going to insist on it.”
He let out a bark of a laugh.
My arms went stiff at my sides. “If you refuse, then you’ll just have to find another blood relative of Finvarra to do the job.” And good fricking luck with that.
He waved a hand through the air. “Fine.”
“I’ll need a specific promise in the form of an oath.”
He snorted derisively. “No oaths.”
We stared each other down for several seconds. He was the one to break the standoff.
“Petra, I could have all of you except Jasper killed, force Jasper to knife his blood father, kill Jasper, and wash my hands of all of you,” Darion said with something almost resembling patience. “Don’t be greedy. Take what I’m offering.”
I lifted my chin, giving him a defiant look. “Jasper doesn’t have to do anything at your command. You don’t have Eldon anymore. You can’t force anyone to do shit.”
He sighed. “This is what you came to do, and I can all but guarantee you get the chance to do it. My people will stay clear after. You have my word that none of the Duergar will raise a weapon to any of you.”
I clenched my jaw and looked off to the side. He was right. We’d come to kill the Unseelie High King. And this was probably the best we were going to get. My gaze slid to Oliver, and he gave me a subtle nod. Take it, he was saying.
“Okay.” I covered the short distance between me and Darion in a couple of strides and stuck out my hand. “No oaths, but we can at least shake on it.”
His gaze lifted in a quick eyeroll, but he grasped my hand and then released it.
I let go and stepped back. “Now, how will you get us close enough to Finvarra to slit his throat?”
A crafty little smile crinkled the outer corners of Darion’s eyes. “It turns out our plans dovetail nicely with each other.”
He started talking, and ten minutes later
we were ready to go. My pulse quickened as I stepped out into the hall. I shot Jasper a glance as I realized something that nearly made me smile.
“What?” Jasper whispered.
“Here we are, Seelie and Unseelie, enemies who had reason to kill each other, working side-by-side for a common goal. This probably wasn’t how you had envisioned it, but you’re getting your wish. Fae coming together for the greater good of Faerie.”
He gave me a quick grin, his golden eyes sparking.
“Ready?” he whispered to me.
I nodded. “Let’s introduce Finvarra to Gae Buide.”
Chapter 22
DARION’S PLAN REQUIRED us to allow his soldiers to restrain us. The only manacles they had handy were, unfortunately, made of cold iron. The cuffs were closed but not locked, so we could slip out of them when we needed to. The metal burned even through my stone armor.
Surrounded by Duergar soldiers, Oliver, Jasper, and I allowed ourselves to be marched from the apartment to a set of double doors that were literally thumping with the sound of the club music inside. It was obvious we’d reached some sort of inner sanctum by the number of Daoine guards on duty. Most were in their human forms, but a pair of large and unfriendly-looking monitor lizards waited like sentries on either side of the door. I swallowed hard and peered at the reptiles, knowing how unpleasant their bites would be. A flicker of movement overhead drew my attention to a perch mounted high above the door. On it rested a vulture so huge I froze in a split-second of primal fear when its beady gaze paused on me.
Darion was at the front of our group, speaking to the Daoine guard who appeared to be in charge, a man well over six feet tall with a large hooked nose. He beckoned to another Daoine, a muscular woman with tendons popping on either side of her neck and said something in her ear. She opened one of the doors, and deafening music blasted us for the second or two that it took for her to slip inside.
