The Mad Queen (The Fae War Chronicles Book 5)

by Jocelyn Fox

  “I shouldn’t have let you go out on that run by yourself,” said Duke as Vivian padded into the living room, still holding her empty soda can because it felt good to have something in her hand.

  “I wasn’t by myself, I had May,” Ross said with a hint of impatience.

  Jess stood by the door, his muscled arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a sentry with the way he’d positioned himself. Niall sat on the couch, his head bent over an object in his hands. Vivian walked across the room to get a better angle of observation, and she saw that the Seelie man held a long knife across his palms. He turned it this way and that in the light. Vivian stepped closer in fascination as she saw rippling runes swirling on the blade.

  “What does it say?” she asked quietly. She didn’t want to get involved in Duke and Ross’s argument. She’d been on the receiving end of her friend’s stubbornness more than once, and Duke probably knew how to deal with it better than she did anyway.

  “You can see it?” Niall said, his pale eyes intent as he glanced up at her.

  She frowned. “Should I not be able to?”

  “It’s Sidhe script. Only those with Sidhe blood should be able to see it,” he said thoughtfully.

  Vivian crossed her good arm over her chest, tapping her thumbnail against the soda can. “While that sounds intriguing, I know enough of my family history to say that while it’s not impossible, it’s highly improbable.”

  “Perhaps you have a connection to one of the old families,” Niall said, as though he hadn’t heard her.

  She sighed and sat down next to him on the couch. “Whatever. Just fill me in on what happened.” She looked up and addressed the room at large. “Tyr’s doing a lot better, in case anyone was wondering. He was awake for a while.”

  They all paused to glance at her, and then Ross and Duke launched back into their disagreement. Jess shook his head slightly and walked past them toward Vivian’s bedroom. Vivian felt a little burst of relief that she’d wiped the blood from Tyr’s mouth.

  “Corsica gave this to Ross when she went out for a run,” Niall said.

  “Somehow, I feel like it was a lot more…violent and creepy…than that,” murmured Vivian, mostly to herself.

  “There is a message inscribed on the blade. An invitation, really,” said Niall. He stood, unfolding his long limbs with grace that sparked envy in Vivian’s chest. She felt like a clumsy bandy-legged colt next to him as she stood too.

  “An invitation for who? For whom,” she corrected herself automatically.

  “The fendhionne,” replied Niall.

  “I don’t know what that word means, but I’m thinking you’re talking about Molly,” said Vivian, following the tall Seelie knight as he strode toward the study. “How are you feeling, by the way? I…I’m sorry that I bit your head off earlier.”

  “Bit my head off?” repeated Niall with a bit of amusement in his voice.

  Vivian waved her soda can. “It’s an idiom. Um, I’m sorry that I was rude.”

  “You are handling all of these new additions to your reality very admirably, on the whole,” said Niall. He knocked softly on the closed door of the study where Molly tended to Ramel. Vivian couldn’t remember seeing Molly outside of the study since the battle with the bone sorcerer. She felt a brief sting of guilt; after all, she’d thrown the spell-orb that had blown up Ramel and left the Unseelie knight hovering between life and death. On the plus side, the violent explosion that had mangled his armor had also broken the cruel spell that Queen Mab had inscribed into his breastplate. Goose bumps raised the hairs on Vivian’s arms as she thought about the brutality of a queen who would inflict something so ruthless on one of her supposedly favored knights.

  “Maybe I should go,” she said uneasily.

  “I do not think that Molly blames you,” Niall replied. “These things happen in the heat of battle. You were doing what you could to help.”

  Vivian felt a knot of nervousness tighten in her stomach as the doorknob turned and the door opened a crack. Molly’s face appeared in the seam. Vivian could easily believe that she was half-Fae. The other woman’s gold-flecked hazel eyes looked catlike in the shadows. Her dark hair shone with colors that reminded Vivian of the Northern Lights.

  “Lady,” Niall said with formal courtesy, bowing his head.

  “Vaelanseld,” she replied with her own nod, opening the door a little wider. Her eyes flicked to Vivian, settled on her for a moment that Vivian felt like a searing eternity, and then shifted back to Niall.

  “Corsica has delivered a message for you,” said Niall, holding up the silver knife, laid flat over one of his large palms.

  Molly stiffened. “What kind of message?”

  Niall lowered his voice. Vivian almost didn’t catch his words. “She promises revenge on Mab if you will join her.”

  Molly’s eyes flashed. She matched her tone to Niall’s. “Why would she think I want revenge?”

  “Because Mab sent you to kill Tess, and she may yet kill Ramel,” Niall replied.

  Vivian felt words rising to her lips: No, in reality I was the one who almost killed Ramel. She felt the slight weight of the spell-orb in her hand again, the cool curve of it in her palm as she plucked it from Corsica’s bracelet like a cherry from its stem. She remembered the triumph that had curdled into horror in her stomach as Ramel had gotten caught in the blast, motionless when the smoke cleared, and the hard stare of the bone sorcerer, his eyes the color of dried blood, as he flicked his wrist and lifted her from the ground, smashing her into one of the pillars of the front porch. She swallowed and pushed back against the memory, even as she felt Molly’s eyes on her again.

  “How is he?” she blurted.

  “Still gravely wounded,” said Molly. Her eyes softened almost imperceptibly. “But I believe he’ll survive, and he’s free of Mab’s spell now.”

  “I didn’t mean...for that to happen,” Vivian finished lamely, her voice catching. She forced herself to meet Molly’s eyes, and it felt like the half-Fae woman peeled back her skin and stared into her soul. Vivian kept herself from squirming only by an enormous effort of will.

  Finally Molly nodded. “I know.” She paused, her eyes guarded. “Would you like to come sit with me for a while?”

  “I…are you sure?”

  A small smile curved Molly’s mouth. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

  “True. Good point.” Vivian looked at Niall.

  “The Vaelanseld will come too,” said Molly, opening the door fully and gesturing for them to enter the room. “His expertise has helped keep Ramel alive.”

  “It is the least I can do for a fellow knight,” said Niall.

  The air in the study felt different to Vivian, still and somber. The shades on the windows were drawn and the curtains closed, keeping the room in shadow though the bright summer sunlight limned the edges of the drapes in molten gold.

  “There are some in both Courts who would not see it that way,” said Molly quietly.

  Ramel lay on the futon mattress, which had been pulled from its frame to the ground. His auburn hair glinted red even in the shadows. Vivian found herself holding her breath, afraid to disturb him. Bandages swathed his chest and his arms. A healing burn reddened one side of his neck.

  “Well, I am not one of them,” said Niall in a firm, calm voice.

  “And thank the stars for that,” said Molly. Vivian thought she heard genuine warmth in the other woman’s voice. She gestured to the writing desk. “Farin is keeping watch over Forin in one of the drawers. The darkness is comforting to them, I think.”

  “Forin should be well within a few days,” said Niall.

  “Niall gave up his taebramh to heal Forin,” Vivian said in an undertone to Molly.

  Niall went still. Vivian wondered suddenly if she’d overstepped her bounds in sharing that particular information. Her cheeks heated. For what felt like the thousandth time since stepping into this world of magic and Fae, she felt like a blundering idiot.
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br />   “Another demonstration of Niall’s selflessness,” said Molly smoothly. Her face darkened. “A concept that is foreign to Mab.” She sank cross-legged onto the floor with boneless grace, holding one hand up to Niall. He gave her the dagger hilt-first. In the dim light of the study, Vivian wondered if the runes would be visible, but the blade glowed gently with its own luminescence as Molly examined it. Vivian stood awkwardly while Niall checked on Ramel, his movements efficient and capable.

  Molly glanced up at her and then gestured. “Sit, please.”

  Vivian plopped down onto the floor and set her empty soda can aside. She alternated watching Niall peel back the bandages to assess Ramel’s healing wounds and Molly tilting the blade one way and then another. She pulled at one of her curls idly, letting her flame-red hair spring back into its tight coil and then stretching it straight again.

  “I like your hair, by the way,” said Molly with a faint smile, looking up from the blade.

  Vivian blinked. “Um…thanks.”

  Molly sighed and set the knife down on her knee. “Look, I know you must think that I hate you for what happened to Ramel. And true, using one of Corsica’s spell-orbs probably wasn’t the best plan. But you were just trying to help, and Ramel survived.” Her voice softened as she spoke about the Unseelie knight. “And in the end, you released him from Mab’s spell, so I really ought to be thanking you.”

  “I just feel like I’m not really useful,” said Vivian truthfully. “I don’t have an awesome weapon or ninja fighting skills. You’re right, I just wanted to help. It was a dumb decision.”

  Molly chuckled. “I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. I’ll tell you about some of the dumb decisions I’ve made lately, and then we can compare notes.”

  Vivian smiled hesitantly.

  “And you are not without your own power,” interjected Niall with his unflappable calm.

  Molly glanced at Vivian, one dark eyebrow raised in question. Vivian ducked her head. “I summoned a little fireball earlier today. No big deal.”

  Molly raised both eyebrows. “Of course that’s a big deal! Don’t downplay it. It took me weeks of study to be able to summon my own taebramh, and I’m half Sidhe.”

  “But you lived in our world for the first part of your life, right?” Vivian tried to remember the details of the quick summary of the story of the Bearer and the fendhionne that Tess had given them before she left for the Fae world again. “How did that work? It almost killed Merrick, being here in the mortal world, and I know you’re only half Fae, but still…”

  “The short answer is that my Fae half was bound separately from my mortal half for most of my life,” answered Molly, watching as Niall carefully removed the bandages on Ramel’s chest. Vivian followed her gaze and winced at the livid bruises and dark gleaming wounds on his chest.

  “And the long answer?” Vivian asked bravely.

  “I’ll tell you the whole story sometime,” said Molly with a nod. “But when I say long, it’s long. And right now, we have to decide what to do about this.” She hefted the dagger in one hand.

  “What are your thoughts?” asked Niall.

  Molly took in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Corsica does have one thing right. My anger at Mab is as constant as my love for Ramel. If he hadn’t survived, I would probably already be in Faeortalam again, figuring out how to bring her down.” The naked hatred in Molly’s last words surprised Vivian.

  Niall’s pale eyes glowed eerily in the shadows as he looked at Molly. “What price does Corsica ask for her help?”

  Molly pressed her mouth into a thin line. “That’s the catch. She’s not asking anything. She’s just proposing that we join forces, two outcasts who both want revenge on Mab.”

  “There is something you should know,” Niall said slowly. He went very still, and he seemed to be thinking hard. “From what I remember, Corsica was actually a member of my Court.”

  “Corsica was Seelie?” The question escaped Vivian’s lips before she could stop it. She squirmed guiltily as both Molly and Niall gave her brief looks.

  “Yes. But…she was released.” Niall frowned. “It is hard for me to recall the details.”

  “Queens messing around in people’s heads,” muttered Molly, shaking her head.

  “I think that Queen Titania granted Corsica her freedom as she requested…and then she aligned herself with Tyr and the rebels in Mab’s Court,” Niall continued.

  It was strange to hear the Seelie knight unsure. He was so composed and calm most of the time, Vivian thought.

  “And Mab punished Corsica along with the others,” said Molly thoughtfully. She stroked the length of the silver blade with one finger. “Why wouldn’t she want revenge on Titania for not interceding?”

  “Why would Queen Titania intercede for one she had released from her Court?” Niall replied.

  “That’s harsh, but it does make sense,” Vivian said. She felt as though she’d been thrown into the deep end of a pool and was stuck treading water, trying to make sense of this conversation.

  “And perhaps that would only double Corsica’s desire for vengeance on Mab,” said Molly. Niall tilted his head in elegant agreement.

  “Does that say exactly what Corsica is planning?” Vivian asked. She wondered suddenly if Molly would even tell them if the knife did lay out Corsica’s plans, especially if the other woman was planning on joining the quest for vengeance against Mab.

  Molly shook her head. “No. It’s vague. It does give me a time and place to meet her, though.”

  “Probably the standard ‘come alone and unarmed?’” guessed Vivian.

  “Are you sure you don’t have any Fae blood?” Molly replied with a smile. “You’re taking to this rather quickly.”

  “I just read a lot of books,” said Vivian sheepishly.

  “Add that to your quick learning with taebramh and that could be a really useful combination,” Molly continued thoughtfully.

  Vivian felt herself blushing again. She picked at the edge of the bandage on her forearm and wondered if she should tell them about her telepathic conversation with Tyr. Thought it left her feeling slightly guilty, she decided against it. They had their secrets, and there was no law that said she couldn’t have her own. It made her feel as though she was on a bit more even ground with them somehow, as though her ability to converse with Tyr was as solid of a weapon as the dagger in Molly’s hand. A little thrill of danger coursed through her at the thought.

  “So, then. What will you do?” she asked Molly.

  Molly gazed down at the knife for a long moment and then set it aside. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Even if you do not want to join Corsica, meeting her could be the key to finding out where she’s hidden the bone sorcerer,” said Niall.

  “And why she double-crossed Tyr and broke him out of the rune trap in the first place,” agreed Molly.

  Vivian pressed the bandage on her forearm with the fingers of her broken arm, feeling the ripple of discomfort and the fiery protest of her damaged bone.

  “How is your arm, by the way?” asked Molly, her eyes drawn by the movement.

  “Better than it should be at this point,” said Vivian, looking at Niall. He was suddenly very absorbed in applying a salve to the burn on the side of Ramel’s throat.

  Molly smiled. “You cannot blame our valiant Seelie friend for acting as his nature dictates.”

  Did Niall look embarrassed? Vivian grinned. “Valiant and noble. And selfless.”

  “And devastatingly handsome,” continued Molly teasingly.

  “That hair,” said Vivian, the ridiculous joke catching her up in its swift current. She felt a giggle bubbling up in her throat. “So dreamy.”

  To their delight, Niall reached up and pulled his hair out of its simple low ponytail, shaking it out dramatically. Vivian’s giggle escaped and Molly chuckled.

  “I’d offer to braid it,” said Vivian in a laughter-clogged voice, “but I wouldn’t be able to do
it justice with just one hand.”

  Niall grinned and Molly laughed.

  “Talking about another man being handsome?” came a hoarse voice from the futon mattress. Ramel blinked and swallowed as Molly’s hands flew to her mouth. “Been out too long…lost my devastating good looks.” He coughed and then groaned.

  Molly gave a small wordless cry of happiness, the dagger from Corsica forgotten as she leaned over Ramel, smiling though her voice was thick with tears. “Oh, my love, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  “I sound terrible,” croaked Ramel. “And I feel terrible.”

  “I’ll get you some water,” offered Vivian, standing up quickly. That, at least, she could do. She left the room to fetch a glass of water for the second time that afternoon, grateful that she’d been forgiven by Molly and hoping that Ramel would be as merciful as the half-Fae woman. She swallowed against the knot in her throat as she filled a glass with water and added a few ice cubes. So Ramel would be all right after all, and she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about what happened. She took a deep breath and steeled herself before walking back to the study, determined not to let them see the depth of her relief.

  Chapter 14

  “For kidnapping the Unseelie Princess.”

  Oddly enough, Tess didn’t feel surprised at Calliea’s words. She wondered if there was anything that could truly surprise her anymore, after all she’d seen and done in the Fae world.

  “I think it would be better termed a rescue than a kidnapping,” Finnead said darkly.

  Calliea took a sip of her khal and shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter what we call it, I think. The basic principle is the same.”

  “I’d beg to differ,” replied Finnead.

  Tess put up a hand. “Let’s agree to disagree on what exactly we’re going to call this for now.” She leaned back in her chair and hooked a finger through Gwyneth’s pendant. The circular wrought-iron pendant depicting the river tree and the Sword, three ruby drops where her blood had been transfigured, barely ever spoke to her anymore. She’d considered putting it away, simply because she always had to remember not to get too close to any of the Sidhe with it, or let it contact their skin. She didn’t have to worry about that with Luca, thank goodness, and it was mostly second nature at this point, but still…