Faerie Lords Boxset

by Isabella August

  A soft knock at the door jolted Zoe. She jumped, staring at it with wide eyes.

  “…Zoe?”

  She swallowed. Her heart thudded sickly in her chest. “That’s not you, is it?” Zoe whispered, more quietly now. Her fingers clenched on the compass.

  “Wait,” Simon told her sharply. “I’m nearly there.”

  Another knock came — this one a bit louder and more emphatic. Zoe frowned. There was some power on the other side, but Simon’s wards were so bright that it was difficult to see very well.

  A voice on the other side of the door spoke, vaguely annoyed. “You called me, warlock. Am I wasting my time?”

  Zoe pushed to her feet, her heart still hammering in her chest. That hadn’t sounded like Malcolm. It was a younger man’s voice — smooth and lilting, with a slight edge. “Are you expecting someone?” she asked Simon.

  “…oh. Damn, that was quicker than I was anticipating,” Simon said. Relief filtered through his voice. “Who did he send?”

  Zoe swallowed, tip-toeing closer to the door. She took a deep breath — forced herself to clear her throat. “Hi,” she managed. “Um. Who is it?”

  A pause followed, on the other side. “I must have the right home,” the voice said, puzzled. “I can feel the Briars in these wards. Who are you?”

  “Someone who can’t let you in,” Zoe admitted. “Can you wait just a moment longer, please?”

  A long-suffering sigh followed. “I am quite busy, I would like you to know. I have all manner of things I would rather be doing right now.” She had the impression, however, that Simon’s prospective guest had settled himself outside of the door.

  A few minutes later, Zoe heard Simon climbing the stairs. A soft, murmured conversation followed. “Zoe?” Simon’s voice filtered through the door. “I’m coming inside. Can you try to stay calm for me? I’m not sure how overwhelming this might be for you.”

  Zoe frowned. “Okay,” she said slowly. She did her best to steel herself against her Witchsight.

  The door opened… and Zoe felt the blood drain from her face.

  Cold, dark, sharp as teeth, pulling at her mind, her flesh—

  The man who stepped inside with Simon was cold as death. He was quite tall, and unnaturally elegant, as most faeries were. His dark hair grew long, and his features had a strange slant to them, though he wasn’t as obviously strange-looking as the Lady of Briars had been. His eyes — a bright, uncanny blue — stared out from the shadows that clung to his pale skin. A crown of shadows flickered upon his brow, hungry to steal her warmth and claw at her soul.

  Zoe stared, breathless. Her fingers clutched the compass, white-knuckled. “I know you,” she whispered.

  Those cold blue eyes turned in her direction. The man at the door paused.

  “…I believe that I know you as well,” he said. “How strange.”

  “Simon,” she said. “This is—”

  “Lord Blackfrost,” Simon finished for her. He moved toward her, taking her hand in his. His fingers were still chilled from outside, but the touch was still comforting. Zoe took in a quick breath. “I’m sorry,” Simon told her. “I wasn’t expecting him to come himself. I would have warned you.”

  Lord Blackfrost gave Simon a disdainful look. “I could leave, if my presence is a bother,” he said dryly, leaning himself against the wall. Zoe blinked. Her Witchsight had assaulted her immediately upon his entrance, but now that she had recovered, she saw that the faerie lord was wearing very normal-looking jeans, along with a black long-sleeved shirt. A scarf was tied around his neck, but it looked painfully superfluous — already, Blackfrost was tugging at it absently, as though it was in his way.

  “I apologize,” Simon offered deferentially. “Your personal presence is an honor, of course. I admit, I’m quite surprised. I was expecting Elaine.”

  Blackfrost heaved a heavy sigh. “Elaine wanted to come,” he said. “Given the subject matter, I would prefer her as far away from this as possible.”

  Zoe knitted her brow. There had been a flicker of… emotion there, as Blackfrost spoke. It was hard to see beneath the mantle of shadows, but it was definitely there. It was far more developed and more complex than the strange emotions she’d seen from the Lady of Briars. “What are you?” she whispered, before she could stop herself.

  Simon and Blackfrost turned to look at her as one. Simon winced. Blackfrost… looked puzzled. “I’m a faerie lord,” he said. “And — generally speaking — people tend to offer me a little bit more deference, given that fact.”

  Zoe shook her head. She knew she should have been frightened — the power in his aura was vast and truly terrible, on the same scale as the Lady. But the crown of shadows upon his head was less wild and elemental than the one that the Lady had worn; sometimes, she saw it flicker madly, trying to escape him, but the faerie lord kept absently reining it in, holding it tightly in check. Simon must have warned him to calm his power, the same way that he had done with the Lady.

  “You’re human,” she said. “Or… something. I don’t understand.”

  Blackfrost raised his eyebrows. “Half-human,” he said. His curiosity piqued. “Aren’t you perceptive.” It was more of a statement than it was a question. When Zoe failed to answer, he tilted his head. “Where have I seen you before?” he asked. “It’s not like I leave Arcadia terribly often.” A frown flickered across his features. “Damn. Did my father imprison you at some point?”

  Zoe shook her head slowly. “I don’t know who your father is,” she said. “But… we’ve met. In Arcadia, I think.” She hesitated, and glanced at Simon. He nodded reassuringly. “My… ugh, I don’t know if I want to call him mentor. Malcolm. He pissed you off pretty bad, I think.”

  Blackfrost’s eyes narrowed. That crown of shadows darkened, and the temperature in the room dropped precipitously. “Him,” the faerie lord spat. “I recall.” He glanced at Simon. “Malcolm is the witch you were talking about? The Scorpio?”

  Simon nodded. “Five years ago. It rang a bell for me. That’s when your father died and you first took the mantle, isn’t it?”

  Blackfrost’s mouth twisted with distaste. “Yes. Some blood-stained witch showed up on my doorstep, asking if I had any prisoners for him. He said he’d had a deal with my father, that he sometimes traded him for victims.” His cold eyes burned. “I let him know that his welcome had lapsed.”

  Simon cleared his throat delicately. “If I may ask… why did you let him go?” Zoe saw politeness warring with frustration in the warlock’s aura. She knew how he felt. You could have stopped all of this before it began. She didn’t dare say it aloud, no matter how congenial the faerie lord had been.

  Blackfrost closed his eyes. He drew in a deep breath. The crown of shadows flickered again, as he forced it back into obeisance. “…I was brand new to the mantle,” he said. The words came reluctantly to him. “I barely had it under control. There was this girl with him, clearly scared. Blackfrost was hungry; when I raged, and she became frightened, the realm decided to try and eat her up. It took what little control I had to hold it back from her.” He opened his eyes, and knitted his brow. “You. That was you, wasn’t it?”

  Zoe’s heart sank. Oh god. “I’m… I’m the reason Malcolm got away?” she whispered.

  Simon squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Remember? This isn’t your fault.”

  Blackfrost grimaced. “I sent a snow maiden after him. They’re deadly creatures, in case you didn’t know. She didn’t come back; but he never came back to Blackfrost, either.” His gaze softened on Zoe. “I sent someone after you too — to make sure you found your way out. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more at the time.”

  Zoe swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t say those words to a faerie, but… I wasn’t in my right mind at the time. I always wondered how I made it back through the Hedge without something killing me.”

  She saw a flicker of respect go through Simon. “I’m grateful that you did
that,” the warlock said to Blackfrost. “If you find yourself in need of a favor in the future, I may well oblige.”

  The faerie lord shook his head helplessly. “Elaine is right. You’re hopeless, Simon. You do remember that I nearly killed you recently?”

  Zoe’s mouth dropped open. Her gratitude vanished. “You what?” The memory of those black, awful injuries on Simon came roaring back. She glared at Blackfrost. “That was you?”

  Simon reached out to stop her, and she realized she’d started to step forward to give the faerie lord a piece of her mind. “Ah… I provoked him,” the warlock said sheepishly. “It’s a very long story.”

  “Oh please,” Zoe said witheringly. “I’ve never seen you provoke a fly.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Blackfrost, who had the good grace to look sheepish. He coughed.

  “We’ll call it even,” the faerie lord told Simon. “In any case… if you’ve found the little bastard, that’s even better. I never was fond of that loose thread. Especially when I realized what might have happened if he’d shown up just a few weeks prior. Elaine was still a prisoner at the time.” His eyes narrowed. “Do me the courtesy of telling me where he is, and he’ll cease to be a problem.”

  Simon sighed. “Damn,” he said. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me. He’s been in the area, but I’m not sure where he is now. I suspect he’s been walking in and out of Arcadia to get around.” Zoe gave Simon a curious look, and he shrugged. “The Hidden Path connected up not too far from the cemetery. I found it during my walk. Malcolm probably used it to dump Vivienne’s body.”

  Blackfrost frowned. “I have some useful servants,” he said. “But they don’t play well with the Lower World. I'd be worried they might eat someone if I ask them to search within the city.” He considered. “I can keep an eye on the Paths closest to Blackfrost. Your city connects up all over the Hedge, so some of the Paths are far outside of my reach — but I can at least limit his options.”

  Simon nodded. “It’s more than I have any right to ask,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

  Blackfrost narrowed those cold blue eyes. “If he shows his face again, send word. I can’t always come in person, but I have… a keen interest, let’s say.”

  “You aren’t the only one,” Simon told him. “You may have to fight the Lady of Briars for his head.”

  Blackfrost grinned. “That woman’s never liked me anyway,” he said. He inclined his head — first toward Simon, and then toward Zoe. “Now, if you don’t mind… I’ve left Elaine long enough. With my luck, she’s probably tamed the worgs by now.” There was a soft, helpless glow in him as he said the woman’s name, though, and Zoe deeply suspected that Blackfrost couldn’t care less what she did, as long as he got back and saw her again.

  Simon smiled at the faerie lord in a way that suggested he knew that. “Please say hello for me,” he said.

  Lord Blackfrost scoffed. “What do I look like, a petty faerie messenger?” he asked. But there was no real bite to the words. He waved his hand. His cold blue eyes flashed one more time — and then, in the space of a breath, the darkest realm of Arcadia reached out for him.

  The sight of it, even for a moment, was enough to make Zoe quaver. The cold, biting shadows were straight out of her darkest memories. For just an instant, she felt the weight of the place — the sheer, seething intensity of its hunger. It recognized her, she thought. It still wanted her.

  But the Lord Blackfrost she had just met was a different creature from the one that had first confronted Malcolm. As the shadows enveloped him, he reached out with his will and forced the realm to heel with a minor, contemptuous effort. The hungry realm flinched back from her, cowed.

  The last she saw of the faerie lord was a glimmer of those cold eyes, cutting through the darkness… and then, finally, he was gone.

  “It’s something, at least,” Simon observed. He pushed a cup over toward Zoe; she took it, warming her hands on the mug. They’d settled in at the small kitchen table in the corner of the loft, stewing over a pot of fresh lavender tea.

  “A wicked faerie lord has monsters sitting on a bunch of the Paths to Montreal, waiting to eat Malcolm,” Zoe said. “That’s way more than something.” She chewed on her lip. “Hell, Malcolm has two faerie lords now that want his head. He’s good at dancing, but I don’t know if he can dance that well.”

  Simon frowned. “Well… the Lady doesn’t know yet,” he said apologetically. “I had hoped that Lord Blackfrost could tell me more about where Malcolm had gone and why, before I bring her up-to-date. She’s terribly unreasonable, when it comes to all of this. If I tell her how close Malcolm is, she may… overreact.”

  Zoe eyed him, considering. “Like… how bad are we talking?” she asked.

  Simon cringed. “I really don’t know,” he admitted. “Let’s just say I’m hoping that Malcolm is in Arcadia when she finds out. I don’t think she has much of an appreciation for collateral damage.”

  “Magical nuke,” Zoe muttered. She didn’t laugh, though. The idea chilled her. “Shit. I didn’t even think of that angle. The Lady’s gonna go on the warpath, isn’t she?”

  Simon nodded soberly. “It pains me to say it, but I have to keep this from her as long as I can. If I can bring Malcolm to her directly, it would prevent a lot of terrible things from happening. Until then, I can’t help but feel like I’m on a bit of a ticking clock.”

  Zoe sighed, frustrated. “I don’t know where he is,” she said. “We moved around a lot — never stayed in one place too long. But Vivienne’s body, the trap he left for me… those were both messages. He wants something from me, and he’s come to collect.”

  Simon knitted his brow. “But collect what? Surely this can’t be just because of the work he’s put into you. Wouldn’t it be simpler for him at this point just to cut his losses and start over?”

  “I don’t know!” Zoe burst out. She pushed her face into her hands. “Believe me, I’m wracking my brain. The only thing I have that he doesn’t is my enhanced Witchsight — and that was technically a screw-up. He admitted to me that it didn’t go the way he wanted. I know he’s duplicated the experiment on himself by now. Hell, he was in a hurry, but he still managed to steal something from Vivienne.”

  A thought occurred to her, and she groaned, clenching her fingers in her hair. “Ugh. I basically handed her over to him on a silver platter, didn’t I? I’ve been thinking that he might have put something in my blood — that he might have tracked me somehow when I used that blood magic. But afterward, I was hiding behind wards, and she still had some of my blood in her.”

  Simon considered her seriously. “What does that mean?” he asked. “What is it you think Malcolm stole from Vivienne?”

  Zoe pressed her lips together. “If he wasn’t looking for something complex, it would just be a top-off for him. Scorpio can use other people’s blood as an anchor, if we get our hands on it. Vampire blood would be particularly potent. But Vivienne didn’t have a lot of blood left in her at that point, so he’d probably have to rip away her life and convert it into fuel for himself. That would be less efficient, but it would still do the job.” She took a breath. “If he used the ritual he was working on, though… he’d have some of her abilities. Maybe he’d be stronger or faster. He can’t drink blood to fuel himself like Vivienne did, but he’s got magic in his own blood, so that might be enough. I really hope he didn’t do the full ritual with her. If he managed to steal a vampire’s power… that means he’s advanced his knowledge a lot since I last saw him.”

  Simon stilled. “How quick would that ritual be?” he asked quietly. “Would… would it be painful?”

  Zoe looked up at him. Sharp, sudden guilt stabbed her in the chest. Oh, fuck. How could I forget? I’m such an idiot. “It…” She swallowed. “It’s a battle of wills. It takes him time, effort. Even an unconscious person’s soul will fight him for every inch. It’s why he prefers his victims already weakened.”

  Black grief wound through Sim
on’s aura. “You didn’t answer the second question,” he observed softly.

  Zoe’s chest ached. She wanted to lie. But there was no point. He knew. “…yeah,” she said miserably. “Yeah, it… didn’t sound pleasant.”

  Simon’s fingers tightened on his own mug.

  “Hey,” Zoe said. Simon looked up at her. There was a deep, awful anguish in those green eyes, though, that utterly scattered anything she might have planned on saying. “…fuck,” she muttered. “I… I don’t know what to say, Simon. I wish I did. I wish I had a way to end this.”

  She paused on that. A terrible idea came into her mind.

  “…well. Maybe—”

  “No.” Simon spoke before she’d even finished the thought. “If you’re about to suggest that we use you as bait, Zoe, you’d be better off not speaking.”

  Zoe chewed on her lower lip. “…look, Simon,” she said. “I don’t know what he wants. All I know is that whatever it is, I clearly have it. I’m not sure, but I suspect that he’s got a way of tracking me when I use my blood. That’s not nothing. It means we might be able to control when and where he shows up, instead of waiting for him to choose the fight.”

  “No,” Simon repeated emphatically. Anger flickered through him. “You’re rushing things because you feel guilty, Zoe. But we don’t have to rush. I’ll talk to Dorian. I’ll talk to the Lady, to Blackfrost. We’ll continue restricting his movements, cutting off his avenues of escape—”

  “—and in the meantime, other people will die!” Zoe burst out. “You get that, don’t you? The more we pressure Malcolm, the more likely it is that he’ll need to top off!”

  “Then other people will die!” Simon yelled, shoving to his feet. “But those other people won’t be you!”

  Zoe stared at him, shocked.

  Simon paled. A shiver of horror flickered over him. Slowly, he sank back into his chair. He pressed his face into his hands.

  “I…” His voice shook, hoarse. “I’m a horrible person.”

  Zoe pushed to her feet. Gingerly, she reached out to take his hands, pulling them away from his face. “You are the least horrible person I know,” she told him quietly. “You’ve got every reason to find this frightening, Simon. I get it. I promise.”