“She did,” he said. “I’m surprised you aren’t making a more active effort to search for Lord Daival in the Court, given your evident compassion for non-humans.”
“I am making an active effort.” Come to think of it, he was the Sidhe least likely to get under my feet if I told him my plan. “I have a lead, but I’ll only let you know what it is if you agree not to tell Lady Aiten until it’s confirmed. I don’t want the whole Court involved.”
“Why me and not Lady Aiten?” he asked.
“She screwed me over when she decided to hide the crown on my family's property without my permission,” I said—truthfully. “You never worked for the Erlking, so you have nothing to hold over my head.” Also, you’re not the one who gave me this absurd quest and refused to listen to reason.
“Very well,” he said. “State your case.”
I took in a breath. “Another group of Sidhe who believe the Erlking is still alive showed up at my house trying to recruit me. I have reason to believe they're working with Lord Daival and he’s brainwashed them into thinking he can bring back their king.” I summed up last night’s unexpected visitation. “I don't know for sure if it’s him, but those guys would have stopped talking if I’d told them to get lost. If I play along and show up at the party, I can bring Lord Daival straight here to the Court.”
“And what do you intend to do until then?” he asked.
“I thought I might try to figure out who the heir is first, but I wouldn’t know where to start,” I admitted. “You know Lord Daival has the Erlking’s sprite, right? Can you tell me his name?”
“Nobody was close to him aside from the Erlking,” he said. “He rarely left his master’s side. He trusted you, and you remain the only person who's seen him since the Erlking’s death.”
He just had to play the guilt card. “I find it hard to believe there isn’t a living soul in the Courts who’s set eyes on him.”
Lord Raivan glanced at the tapestry, a pondering expression on his face. “There was an incident some years ago, in which a thief in the employ of one of the monarchs of the borderlands managed to break into the Erlking’s territory. It's possible he might have spoken to the sprite.”
“The borderlands?” I said. “Let me guess… it was one of Lady Hornbeam’s people.”
While the borderlands technically belonged to the Courts, they were ruled by some particularly nasty Sidhe who had no issues with shooting humans full of arrows if they dared trespass near their property. They also had zero respect for the Gatekeepers. Lady Hornbeam was the worst of the lot.
“It was,” said Lord Raivan. “However, the borderlands have recently gained new leadership, following Lady Hornbeam’s death.”
“She’s dead?” She wouldn’t be missed, that was for sure, but after centuries of immortality, it must be jarring for the Sidhe who’d seemed like permanent fixtures in the Courts to suddenly cease to exist.
“She is,” he said. “Lord Kerien was acquainted with their current leader, and he told me the very same thief who once broke into the Erlking’s home is the new Lord Hornbeam of Half-Blood Territory.”
Huh? “Did you say Half-Blood Territory?”
His mouth twitched with evident distaste. “That’s what they’re calling themselves. Their lands are of no concern to the Courts, so they’re welcome to keep them.”
Reading between the lines, I surmised that he’d opposed the idea of the half-bloods claiming their own territory but had been outvoted. Now the same guy who’d once tried to steal from the Erlking was their new leader? Dude had balls, that was for sure. “Would this monarch be interested in claiming the Erlking’s throne?”
“No,” said Lord Raivan. “That is… he has expressed no interest in leaving the borderlands. Therefore, you must visit him in person if you want to find out what he knows.”
Hmm. The borderlands were volatile by reputation, though the half-faeries should be less difficult to deal with than Lady Hornbeam and her crossbow-wielding guards. Paying a visit seemed a decent enough diversion until the gathering tonight, and one that might turn up some useful information, too. Besides, I had to admit I was kind of curious to meet the guy who’d once tried to steal from the King of Faerie.
“I’m going to the borderlands,” I told Darrow as I left the room. “Also known as Half-Blood Territory. I’m told their new leader might have some ideas about where Lord Daival is hiding.” Not to mention the heir.
“The borderlands are no place to wander alone,” he said. “If I’m to assist you in your questioning, I will need to come with you.”
He sounded peeved at being left out of my meeting with Lord Raivan, but that's what he got for shoving his way into an investigation that wasn't his to begin with. What did he expect me to do, let him in on private Court matters, and allow Etaina to have a say in selecting the next monarch? It was bad enough that she was holding information about the Erlking over my head. I didn’t need to give her any more leverage.
“You needn't be so distrusting,” he said, as we walked out of the gates and turned down the path away from the palace. “We’re in your Court now, and I will play by Summer’s rules while I'm here.”
“That implies you don’t play by our rules when you’re elsewhere,” I pointed out. “I might add that you’re working for another Court whose leader tried to blackmail me into handing over something that used to belong to Summer, so anyone would distrust you.”
“I desire nothing from Summer,” he said. “Only the pleasure of your company.”
I frowned, trying to puzzle out whether he was being sarcastic or not, but his tone was neutral. “Why, I’m flattered. Would you trust me if our positions were reversed?”
“No, but you and I see things differently, Hazel.”
My heart skipped a beat. I might not be able to control my reaction to the way he said my name, but trusting him was a different matter altogether. “Like Etaina? Do the Aes Sidhe choose their leader based on bloodline? Who’s the heir?”
I expected an evasion or a lie, but he said, “Etaina has ruled fairly for centuries, and she will rule for a long time to come.”
“She seemed pretty disdainful of the Erlking for doing the exact same,” I commented. “What's her past with that talisman? Does she want to be the wielder?”
“No,” he said. “Nobody should wield that staff.”
“At least we agree on one thing.” The memory of creeping tentacle-like shadows infiltrated my mind, along with how they’d lured those imps to their deaths. “How do you know she'll keep her word?”
“She will,” he said. “She understands the talisman in a way few others do. Would you trust anyone else to use it in an honourable manner?”
Well, no. “No, but from what I’ve seen of her, I wouldn’t trust her with a dangerous magical artefact with the power to disintegrate her enemies and bring the Courts crashing to their knees.”
She had quite enough power already, with her glamour skills and ability to turn anyone into a devoted worshipper. Including Darrow, unless he had some personal reason for his faith in her. Based on what I’d seen, though, she didn’t deserve mine. A true leader wouldn’t need to put her entire congregation under a glamour to ensure obedience. Bringing that up wouldn’t do me any favours, though, so that was a conversation for another day.
We turned off the main path, where thick, tangled forest blotted out the sunlight and filled the air with wild scents and wilder sounds. I did my best to tread lightly, but Darrow’s utter silence was impossible for my imperfect human feet to achieve.
The borderlands, as their name suggested, lay between Summer and Winter and didn't belong to one particular Court. They’d once been divided between a number of Seelie and Unseelie families who declared frequent wars on one another over territory, and on my last trip here, one of Lady Hornbeam’s soldiers had almost skewered us all on the spot because Ilsa’s boyfriend had insisted on picking a fight with him. Hopefully, Lady Hornbeam’s replacements hadn't inherited
her fondness for torturing humans.
“I hope this half-blood king is kinder to outsiders than Lady Hornbeam was,” I said. “She used to keep humans in cages and force people to duel to the death for sport.”
“What did Lord Raivan tell you of this king?” Darrow asked.
“That he’s a thief,” I said. “By reputation, he’s a sneaky bastard. He once tried to rob the Erlking and now it looks like he’s stolen a throne, too.”
“Reputation isn't everything,” said Darrow.
Huh. Was that an attempt at an apology for the comment he'd made when we'd first met, implying I was a ditzy human who had no idea how dangerous the faeries were? Admittedly, I’d cultivated that reputation for a reason during my days as heir because it ensured the Sidhe would underestimate me and give me information they would never normally tell a human. Now I was Gatekeeper, though, I couldn't hide who I was, even out here in the borderlands.
“Sometimes it is. Look at Lord Niall.” I dug my hands in my pockets, wondering how much further we had to walk. “Did you see Lord Raivan earlier? He was blatantly hungover halfway to hell. He must have drunk an ocean of elf wine last night.”
Movement slithered in the undergrowth, raising the hairs on my arms. A sluagh, half spirit, half corporeal, rose from the bushes and settled into the form of a ghostly humanoid figure.
I drew an iron knife. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“It’s from the Vale.” Darrow’s shoulders tensed. “The borderlands are close to the land of the outcasts.”
I gave him a sideways glance. “You never mentioned you'd been here before.”
“You never asked.”
I lunged at the sluagh, but the iron blade passed through its semi-transparent form. Dammit. I tugged at the knife’s handle, and a torrent of ice-cold air slammed into me from behind. A second sluagh had joined the first, its rippling form resolving into a giant insect-like creature with way too many legs. Jets of a foul black substance shot from its mouth, splattering the ground at my feet. That would be a ballache to clean out of my shoes.
Darrow’s icy magic smacked into the second sluagh, freezing the venom before it touched me. With a nod of acknowledgement, I sank my knife deeper into the first sluagh, seeking its beating heart. A shower of dark blood told me I’d found my mark.
Darrow circled the second sluagh, aiming a blast of magic that sent it reeling backwards into the path of my blade.
“Nice teamwork.” I yanked my knife out of the sluagh, and its formless body collapsed.
Pain speared my arms as the blade-like branches of a tree wrapped around me from behind. Not a sluagh. Sharp, finger-like branches climbed up my shoulders, grabbing for the circlet.
“Hey! Hands off.” I swung my foot back, slamming it into the tree trunk, but the angle of made it impossible to drive the blade into the wood and make it let me go.
Darrow lunged at the dryad himself, and its sharp branches went for him instead. I shouted a warning, but the instant the branches made contact with him, he vanished.
A moment later, a second Darrow pounced on the tree from behind, his blade sinking into one of the branches that held me. That was enough for me to free my right arm, and my iron blade sliced the branches clean off, sending a spray of sap the colour of blood onto my shoes. Yanking my other arm free, I pivoted to find myself faced with a grey-trunked tree inset with a feminine face. Dryads were typically bright and vibrant, but not a single leaf grew on the tree’s branches and the dryad’s face was grey and wrinkled.
She’d also tried to strangle me, but now I saw the lifeless colour of her trunk, I suspected she’d tried to grab my circlet because she needed magic. Her tree was dying, the life bleeding out of it as though touched by the destructive power of the Erlking’s talisman.
Before I could quite consider what I was doing, I called my Summer magic and pressed my hands to the bleeding trunk. After a few moments, the grey colouring turned a healthy brown, and leaves began to sprout from its branches again. The dryad’s gasps evened out, and her eyes brimmed with gratitude.
“Thank you, human,” she murmured. “A favour I will grant you.”
“Can you point us in the direction of Half-Blood Territory?” I asked.
A branch extended, pointing northwest into the trees. “Go in peace, human. You will face no more enmity from me.”
I nodded in acknowledgement and began trekking northwest.
Darrow gave me an odd look. “Why did you heal her? Did you know she’d point us in the right direction?”
“No, but she was dying.”
Confusion wrinkled his brow. He didn’t get it, and I wasn’t sure I did either. Once, Darrow had told me he thought attachments to others were nothing more than a liability, but his own actions in helping me proved he didn’t always follow that rule. On the other hand, while I didn’t normally save the lives of people who tried to kill me, there was something weird about the dryad’s desperate state. Was it a consequence of the Vale being close to the borderlands, or some insidious aftereffect of the Erlking’s death?
“You might want to glamour your clothes if we’re visiting a monarch,” Darrow said.
“Fair point.” I pulled a glamour on, adding a few embellishments to cover the damage and make me look a little less like I'd just taken a bath in oil-like slime. Darrow could glamour circles around me, though, and between one blink and the next, he was as pristine as ever. His silver hair was glossy, and his clothes gleamed, looking more like he was on his way to a fancy convention than a walk through one of Faerie’s most dangerous regions.
His eyes flared with magic. “We’re being watched.”
Without a sound, a number of figures emerged from the trees, dressed in dark clothing and wielding bows, spears and swords. A smile curled my lip. “I guess things haven't changed much here, then.”
8
I faced the group of armed strangers. “We’re here to speak to the leader of Half-Blood Territory, on behalf of the Summer Court. It’s about the Erlking.”
“We know of the Erlking’s passing,” said a bow-wielding male half-Sidhe with ebony skin and braided hair. She was clad in some kind of brown-grey armour that didn't give away her Court designation. Nor did the others’, though I'd automatically classified them as Summer due to Lady Hornbeam once owning this territory. Now I looked closer, some of them had blue eyes which signalled Winter heritage.
A female half-faerie with pale skin and long dark hair stepped forward. “I’ll take you to him,” she said. “I can't promise Lady Whitefall will be accommodating, however. We’ve had a lot of trespassing incidents lately.”
“Trespassers?” Like Lord Daival? With a glance to make sure the archers weren’t going to fire at my back, I walked after the half-faerie with Darrow at my side.
A short distance away lay a palace, surrounded by wooden fences of interwoven thorns. While the thorns mimicked Summer’s style, the palace’s bone-white walls put me more in mind of the Winter Court. As we walked through a gate to the oak wood doors, a male Summer half-Sidhe walked out to greet us. A thin scar bisected his cheekbone, while his unembellished clothing resembled that of the guards. Only the silver crown atop his shoulder-length dark hair gave away his identity as the new Lord Hornbeam.
I’d also seen him once before, minus the crown. “Princeling? You’re the new leader?”
He cocked a brow. “You again? The Gatekeeper pretender?”
“I’m the official Gatekeeper now,” I told him, “and I’m here on behalf of the Summer Court and the Erlking.”
At least he wasn’t pointing an arrow at my skull, but let’s just say we’d got off on the wrong foot during my last visit to the borderlands. He was the same guy who’d threatened to hand me over to Lady Hornbeam for bringing my siblings into the Court. Now I thought back, River had recognised him as Lady Hornbeam’s thief, but I’d never got his name.
“Who is it, Cedar?” A female half-Sidhe strode out of the doors to join him. Her hair was
the same colour as the snow-white walls behind her, while power thrummed in her bright blue eyes. Her armoured outfit mimicked Cedar’s, but an identical silver crown sat atop her head.
A Summer and Winter half-Sidhe ruled side by side? In the mortal realm, it’d go unremarked upon, but Faerie had been divided between Summer and Winter from the start, even in the borderlands.
“These two are here from Summer.” Cedar’s lip curled. “On behalf of the deceased Erlking, allegedly.”
“I’m Hazel Lynn, Gatekeeper of the Summer Court,” I said to the newcomer. “I came to speak to… to whoever rules the borderlands, I guess.”
“That would be us,” said the woman. “I’m Lady Whitefall, joint ruler of Half-Blood Territory.”
“Since when?” I tried to keep my tone non-confrontational, but I could hardly believe the Sidhe had let them take over the whole of the borderlands without a fuss.
“Since all the ruling borderland Sidhe died or turned traitor,” said Cedar. “Including Lady Hornbeam.”
“Damn,” I said. “You two seemed pretty tight. I’m surprised.”
Lady Whitefall gave him an uncertain look. “Do you know her, Cedar?”
“We met,” he said. “I found her trespassing on Lady Hornbeam’s territory some months ago with a troop of humans.”
“With my family,” I corrected. “To warn the Summer Court of an impending coup. He and my sister’s boyfriend nearly got into a punch-up over a talisman and he threatened to shoot me.”
Lady Whitefall looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Your past comes back to haunt you again, Cedar. We don’t run things the same way Lady Hornbeam did, don’t worry. Humans are welcome here. You’d better come in. Oh, and you can call me Raine.”
Well, damn. I’d come here expecting a trap and found something far weirder. While I hadn’t ruled out the possibility of the half-bloods turning on us, this Cedar was a world away from the prickly thief who’d threatened to shoot me on behalf of his unforgiving queen.
A high-ceilinged room off the main hall greeted us, dominated by two towering thrones. On either side, tapestries cloaked the walls, depicting lush forests and fields, snowy wastelands and frozen lakes.
The Gatekeeper's Trials: The Complete Trilogy Page 30
