Faery (The Faery Chronicles Book 3)

by Leslie Claire Walker

  “Max,” I said.

  “Max.” She took a breath and blew it out slow. “Famine put me here. She trapped me here in this place. She set me to wait for Max, but he’s not coming. She got him to bless the blade and then killed him. She thinks I don’t know. I’m the Queen. I know what happens to everyone under my rule. I can’t even grieve him. I don’t have the luxury of time.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Thank you.” She cocked her head. “How did you get here?”

  “In your vision?”

  “No,” she said. “Here at the Door of Death.”

  “Simone brought us on the Faery Roads.”

  “No,” she said again. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

  “We wouldn’t have gotten to you in time if she hadn’t.”

  “Kevin, those roads stay open until you close them. Did Simone close them?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. We came here and saw you and Famine. I ran to you and Simone followed.”

  “Kevin, if you traveled here on them and didn’t close them, Famine could travel back the way you came.”

  I didn’t understand. “But she’s not fae.”

  “You only have to be fae to open the way.”

  I held out my hand.

  She took it. Her skin was cold, but her grip was strong and full of electric charge. It passed from her hand into mine, racing up my arm and into my chest. For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe. The world of Silver’s vision went still. Even the dust motes in the air froze in time. Then all at once, the world sped up and Silver’s fingers squeezed mine.

  “Follow me out,” she said.

  I stared at her. “I thought I’d be doing the leading.”

  “I’ve got this. Your turn will come soon enough.”

  I had no idea what most of that meant, but I understood the part about getting the hell out of here. I held onto her hand tight. Faster than I could blink, I felt a change in the air. The absence of dust and the cooling breeze. The tall, thin grass I knelt on and the crushed green scent of it. Simone’s hand was warm against my back. I looked down at Silver. Her eyes were not just open, but bright with pain.

  Simone spoke low in my ear. “Kev, I need to get to her.”

  I crawled out of the way, blades of grass sticking to my palms.

  Simone knelt where I’d been. “I need to pull this out.”

  “It won’t matter in the end,” Silver said. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, wetting her cheeks and her hair.

  Simone frowned. “I was afraid of that. But it will still be better out than in.”

  I looked from her to Silver and back again. “How will you stop the bleeding? She’s hit in the heart.”

  “She’s the Queen,” Simone said. “She can command the people and the land—the whole realm. Her body is part of Faery. She can command the bleeding to stop.”

  I’d never known the King well enough to get that kind of information from him. What it meant to be the ruler of the realm. The kind of power it gave him.

  “Then she can heal herself,” I said.

  Simone shook her head. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  I didn’t understand. “How?”

  “She has more important things to worry about than herself,” Simone said.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t know that, only that I didn’t factor it in. It was so alien to my own experience as a human being. I was one person. An individual. Sure, my choices affected other humans, but it wasn’t the same. I could not snap my fingers and cause someone hundreds of miles away to live or die.

  That kind of power was woven in to who Silver had become. But it wasn’t just about the power. It was the responsibility that came from it. If Silver could command all of Faery and everyone in it, including the land, then that made her responsible for all of her people. For the whole realm. If everything went smoothly and all she had to worry about was the occasional small dispute, no problem. If things went like they had for the past year, that was a different story.

  When she’d been the King’s stepdaughter and only heir and tried to fix everything wrong with Faery in one fell swoop by taking the sickness of the land and its people on herself, it’d backfired horribly. And the King had exiled her as punishment because the backfire could’ve—would’ve—ended the entire realm. The important thing about that had nothing to do with Silver, at least not in terms of the big picture. Silver had not only almost killed herself, she’d almost killed everyone and everything she’d ever loved. An entire race of people. An entire land.

  To undo her terrible mistake, she’d given up her memory. From the first time she’d gazed into her mother’s eyes until her last kiss, she’d traded away everything she’d ever known to save Faery.

  Now that she wore the crown, the stakes were that much higher. Her lover was dead. Murdered. There was no one left to fix her mistakes, to tell her it would be all right, or to send her away. She had to do it all herself. She had to make the right choices or all of Faery would pay the consequences.

  I met Silver’s gaze. She took in the look that had to have been on my face. I could never hide my feelings well.

  “You understand,” she said.

  I nodded. “As much as I can.”

  “It takes practice,” she said.

  I never wanted that kind of practice. I didn’t see how I could avoid it, not with an impending apocalypse. I might not have much in the way of magic, but I had key knowledge. I knew things, people. I’d probably end up dead sooner than I wanted to be, but I’d never walk away if I could make the smallest difference.

  “Silver, can you command the poison from the blade not to kill you?” I asked. “Can you clean it from your blood?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “The blade struck me through the heart. With any other fae, that wound would’ve been fatal. Even with the power I possess, the poison has spread through my body. It’s tainted every cell. There’s so much of it. As Queen, I could do what you say, but it would take days. I would be unconscious for all that time. Do you understand that?”

  It’d taken Simone one night to heal the poison in her system, but that blade had only pricked her skin. It hadn’t pierced any organs. The poison had damaged her, but not like with the Queen. Not so completely. And that wasn’t even the point.

  The point was that to have a hope in hell of healing herself, the Queen would need to check out in the moment when her people and the realm itself needed her more than ever. If she chose herself over Faery, Faery would die.

  “What do you need?” I asked. “What can I do?”

  Silver looked from me to Simone. A wordless communication seemed to pass between them. Simone shook her head.

  Silver grabbed Simone’s hand, the one wrapped around the hilt of the knife in Silver’s heart. She squeezed hard enough for her knuckles to bleach white. “I need you,” she said. “Both of you.”

  Simone’s voice shook. “I can only promise for myself.”

  Silver softened her grip. “That’s good enough for me. Now pull this damned thing out of me.”

  Simone blinked back tears. “Kev, I need you to be ready.”

  “What was that about?” I asked.

  “Later,” she said. “When I pull out the knife, press your hand to the wound.”

  Like I would with any other. I started to shrug out of my jacket, intending to use it stanch the wound as best I could.

  “No,” Simone said.

  “But with just my hand—”

  “It’ll be enough, Kev. Trust me.”

  She didn’t give me time to think about it. She wrapped her free hand around the hilt, lacing her fingers together, and pulled with everything she had in her. The blade slipped free with a sickening, wet pop, followed by a geyser of thick, red blood.

  I reached to clap my hand on top of the wound. My hand passed too close to the blade in Simone’s grasp. The tip of it sliced open my palm from center to heel as if my skin were made of
butter. I winced, fighting the instinctive urge to pull back my hand. There was no time. I pressed it against the heart wound in Silver’s chest, fighting the torrent of red, ready for the gusher to continue pumping through the cracks between my fingers.

  Instead, the rush of blood slowed—not entirely. It didn’t stop. But it did slow to seeping. On top of that, the cut on my hand closed.

  “That’s the best I can do,” Silver said. Her eyes were open and clear and filled with determination. She hadn’t for one second lost consciousness or wavered in any way. “Help me up, Kevin.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “If I take my hand off the wound, will it be all right?”

  “As all right as it’ll ever be,” she said.

  I pulled my palm away. The world didn’t end.

  I pushed to my feet and offered Silver both hands. She let me help her up. She was heavier than she looked. That’d changed since I’d last seen her, when she’d been in exile. She had a wiry strength about her, a density to her muscles, that hadn’t been there at the time.

  Simone stepped up beside us. She slid the blade, still dripping with Silver’s blood, into her back pocket. I opened my mouth to crack wise about her aim with the knife, but the look on her face stopped me cold.

  Compared to me, she was a high-level expert at keeping her feelings to herself. But in that moment, she looked haunted.

  “Hold onto me,” she said.

  Silver put an arm around Simone’s waist. I did the same, studying Simone’s face.

  She gave me the side-eye. “Stay on top of it,” she said. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  Not like last time, when she’d told me to hold on, afraid she’d lose me. Either she trusted me, or—the alternative arrived like a slap to the face. Either she trusted me, or she’d accepted the idea that she would lose me.

  Looking at her closely, I could see that was exactly what she thought.

  No matter what had happened between us, no matter whether my humanity or her fae-ness kept us apart, she’d never lose me. I wouldn’t allow it to happen. No matter how hard the odds became, I wouldn’t give up.

  I loved her.

  It was that complicated and that simple.

  We’d never talked about having a life together because we’d never thought we could have one. Better to keep the hurt locked inside. Don’t even dream of acknowledging your feelings, and even more important, never say the words out loud, not to each other. Because once the words were spoken, they could never been taken back. And that would only make it hurt worse, like some horrible self-fulfilling prophecy of pain.

  In all likelihood, the Queen was going to die and take the realm with her. Even if she managed to stop whatever Famine was trying to do, even if she managed to kick the Horsewoman out of Faery and stay alive, she’d be so weakened she might sleep for a lot more than a week. She might sleep forever, like a fairy tale princess.

  It was also probable that Simone or I would die helping Silver defend Faery, or defending the people we cared about who were back at the Court. Much as Beth annoyed the crap out of me and Malek freaked out the primal part of me that knew he was the world’s most contradictory supervillain, I cared about them. I cared about Mr. Nance, too. He’d been a pain in the ass, but also an ally when I’d needed one most. It didn’t matter to me that Simone had a hard time with him. The man was her father.

  If I had to die to save Simone? I’d do it in a heartbeat. She’d do the same for me.

  So where did that leave us?

  It’d be better if Silver weren’t here to hear. If we had time for romance. On the other hand, Silver seemed suddenly to look everywhere except at Simone or me, as if she knew what I was about to do.

  “Simone,” I said.

  She turned her head to meet my gaze.

  I made my voice strong and clear. “I love you.”

  A ten-ton weight lifted effortlessly off my shoulders, warmth wrapping around my heart. I waited for her to say something.

  Instead, she stared at me. “Say it again.”

  “I love you,” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You waited until now to tell me? Because we’re all gonna die?”

  I shook my head. I could’ve used that as an excuse, figuring I wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences, so what the hell. No. I could make a fucking choice about what I wanted and figure out how to make it work. If it didn’t, I’d cross that bridge then.

  “It’s not like that at all,” I said. “We’re going to get through this.”

  She searched my face. After a moment, she seemed to accept what she saw there. “I love you, too.”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  Silver nodded. “Now.”

  Simone spoke a word too softly for me to hear. The Faery road appeared in front of us, wreathed in blue fire.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE COURT REEKED of blood. A thin film of red slicked the floor in front of the dais, splattering the oak steps and the edge of the platform. The coppery stench of it filled my nose and mouth. My stomach twisted on itself. It was all I could do not to fall to my knees in the red smear and retch until I passed out.

  I pulled my arm from around Simone’s waist, an unnatural chill seeping into my skin. I tripped over my feet, backpedaling until I caught my balance, until I could lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. I tried not to breathe too deeply.

  Except for the horror of so much blood, the great hall looked the same as we’d left it. Pristine and ready for a party that’d never happened. Torches burned in their sconces along the walls. The small, round banquet tables at the sides of the room with their white tablecloths and glass bowls filled with floating red and white roses. The red and white tapestries made of live roses. The overshadowed scent of the flowers that seemed less smothering and more sickeningly sweet to me now.

  The flames of the tea light candles on the wooden seats of the thrones flickered in an invisible breeze. The one on the Queen’s throne fizzled and smoked, its wick spent. The red and white velvet ribbons that hung above the thrones like streamers swayed ever so slightly. For a heartbeat, I thought I heard the echo of Beth’s voice, faint and filled with surprise, calling for Malek. I shook my head to clear it. The echo faded.

  The whole place looked like something out of a ghost story. There were no people. No monsters.

  I glanced at Silver. Her skin was several shades paler than it’d been in the field. She stared at the mess on the floor. Her nostrils flared.

  “This belongs to a human,” she said.

  She could identify the species of the bleeder by its scent. The thought disturbed me almost as much as the blood.

  Whose blood was it?

  Malek didn’t qualify as a member of the species. Neither did Famine. That left Beth. Or Mr. Nance. As soon as his name crossed my mind, I glanced at Simone, who spun slowly around, taking in the gore. Her shoulders stiffened. The corners of her mouth turned down.

  She didn’t want anything to do with Nance. Because of that, he’d assumed she’d prefer him dead rather than alive. She hadn’t contradicted him when he’d said it. Looking at her now, it was easy to see it wasn’t true. It was easy to see her fear.

  I forced myself to stand up straight, to look for a trail leading away from the puddle of red. I didn’t see anything, not even a single footprint, as if the person the blood belonged to had teleported out or simply disappeared.

  “Silver, can you tell anything more?” I asked. “Whose blood?”

  Silver shook her head. “I can tell you that there’s more of it, though—a lot more than what’s here. Blood’s been spilled in the antechambers—the rooms in back of the hall. There’s one human on the floor, not moving. There others are in the room behind that one.”

  I stared at her.

  “This is my home,” she said. “I’m as tied to it as I am my body. I feel what it feels.”

  Talking about the Court as if it were alive. Being so connected to it that she could pinpoint t
he location of those inside like I could pinpoint the location of a mosquito feasting on my leg. Jesus.

  “What is it, Silver?” I asked. “What’s here that’s so precious? You left it unguarded.”

  She met my gaze. “That’s impossible.”

  “What?”

  “You shouldn’t know that.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  She shook her head. The shaking sent a tremor through her whole body. “No. It is what it is. If it’s the will of the realm that you should know, then I’ll tell you.”

  “You’re talking about the land as if it’s alive,” I said.

  “That’s because it is. It has an intelligence of its own. And a heart.”

  A long time ago, Rude had taken me to the heart of Houston, the heart of the city, to make some magic. It had been alive. It’d had a mind of its own. It wasn’t a stretch to consider Faery in the same way. “The heart of the whole realm is here.”

  She nodded. “It speaks to you.”

  “Not with a voice. Not with thoughts. It’s all emotion. Like I can feel what it wants me to feel,” I said.

  She mulled that for a minute. “Then it’s settled.”

  “What is?” I asked.

  She took a deep, painful breath. “Go after Malek and Beth.”

  “And my father,” Simone said.

  “Him, too,” Silver said. “Do what you can to keep them safe. Do what you can to distract Famine.”

  “And what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Take my throne. It’ll connect me to the heart, lend me strength when the Horsewoman comes to face me.”

  Famine would definitely come for Silver. She was after that throne. She wanted Faery for herself.

  “Can you take her on alone?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “At full strength, maybe. But now?”

  Famine had trapped Silver at full strength. There was nothing that said Famine couldn’t do it again.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” Simone said.

  Silver met her gaze and held it a moment. Then Silver turned her eyes on me. She looked at me the way the King used to—piercing any kind of front or mask I wore, drilling down into my deepest thoughts and feelings. It felt like a violation. As if I’d been stripped naked in a crowded room under a spotlight with nowhere to hide. Silver seemed to grow taller, the boundaries of her body stretching until she was at least ten feet tall.