The Mad Queen (The Fae War Chronicles Book 5)

by Jocelyn Fox

  “If the portal hadn’t dropped you here,” she said, staring down at the wide planks of the old porch, “would you have told me you were alive? Or would you be debating like Jess?”

  Duke pulled her close. She let him, even though a little flare of uneasiness swirled in her stomach.

  “Ever wonder why the portal dropped us here?” he murmured into her hair. “When I tried to grab Luca and Merrick, tried to keep ‘em from goin’ through, I didn’t know what was on the other side. I thought if I failed maybe it was it. Maybe we were gonna be spun into oblivion. Death. Whatever name you wanna give it.”

  She felt the warmth of his exhaled breath on the tender skin of her neck.

  “You were my last thought, when I thought it was it. When I thought I was done, that maybe I only had a few seconds of thinkin’ about anythin’ at all. So I thought of your face, your eyes, the way you looked when I slid that ring onto your finger.”

  The prickle of tears in her eyes alarmed Ross. She cleared her throat and blinked them away, grateful for the concealment of the shadows. “So are you saying that you would have come back to me whether the portal dropped you here or not?”

  “I knew you could handle it,” he said. “You’ve always been able to handle anything that life throws your way.”

  Ross decided to let it go. He was here, and that was the biggest thing. “I just feel like any day now something’s going to happen and everything is going to just explode.”

  “I don’t think things are that outta control,” Duke said carefully.

  “What exactly meets your definition, then?” Ross raised her eyebrows. “The bone sorcerer escaped with Corsica’s help, Niall fried himself saving Forin’s life, Molly defected to join the crazies while we got attacked by those wolf creatures, and I’m pretty sure Vivian is still giving blood to Tyr.”

  “Well, when you put it that way, yeah, it’s not exactly normal around here. But compared to the all-out war in the Fae world…it was carnage, Ross. I thought I was used to seein’ some hard stuff to process, but the casualties they took during those battles…” He shook his head. “As for V, I know you wanna look out for her, but she’s a big girl. She’s older than you were during your first deployment.”

  “It’s not the same,” Ross said.

  “Why, because you’re you and she’s her? That’s not really a reason.”

  “Since when did you learn to sound so logical?” she demanded in mock exasperation.

  “Since I got thrown into a world that pretty much blew my sense of reality apart,” Duke replied honestly. He chuckled. “After comin’ back from that, it’s pretty easy to sound logical in this world.”

  They listened to the chorus of frogs and crickets for a moment. Ross dipped her foot down to the smooth floorboards and pushed the swing a little, the gentle motion creating just enough of a breeze to tease them. She still wondered what Duke was going to do, now that he wasn’t dead. For now, he seemed content with taking the time to adjust to being back in their world and back with her. He shared caretaking duties with Niall and Vivian: Ramel’s wounds were still healing, and from what Niall said he was out of danger but had a long road ahead of him. Whatever power helped the Sidhe recuperate faster than humans didn’t seem to be working very well for Ramel. Niall speculated that Queen Mab had withdrawn her support from Ramel, even though he was one of her Three. Ross found the idea of the Queens archaic and she didn’t understand the Sidhe’s willingness to give their lives for their monarchs, but then again, she reasoned, they wouldn’t understand her willingness to fight in a land thousands of miles away from her home. They all served different powers, and in a way that tied them all together. They understood what it was to accept the possibility of death in the performance of their duties.

  The front door opened and Vivian peered out at them through the screen door. May tried to squeeze past Vivian’s legs and huffed in disappointment when Vivian caught her collar. The big dog still managed to press her wet black nose against the mesh of the screen door. A waft of cool air from the interior of the house swirled like a tendril of smoke into the humid warmth of the night.

  Vivian spoke seriously, her flame-colored curls held back in a haphazard ponytail. “Niall said to come get you. Ramel’s awake. Really awake.”

  “Be right in,” said Duke with a nod.

  Mayhem whined in protest as Vivian wrestled her back far enough so that she could close the door.

  “I should take May on a run tomorrow morning,” Ross said. “She’s been spending way too much time inside and I’ve been too busy with work…”

  “Don’t guilt yourself,” said Duke, standing up and stretching. His plain gray shirt rode up as he linked his arms over his head, revealing a glimpse of his flat stomach and the tracery of his abdominal muscles. Ross wondered if he’d done that on purpose and decided she didn’t care, eyeing the delicious view. He finished stretching by cracking his neck, a habit that made her grind her teeth and snapped her out of her content enjoyment of the sight.

  “I can take her for a run too, y’know,” he said.

  “You, run voluntarily?” she teased as she bent down to blow out the citronella candles.

  “When I want to,” he said defensively. “I mean, when runnin’s been a punishment for so long, you kinda, I dunno, grow to hate it. But I gotta stay lean for my badass firefighter, so I’ll take the pain.”

  Ross chuckled. “I appreciate that.” She understood what he meant: various flavors of running, from sprints in the sand with boots to long rucks with all their gear, had served as one of many instruments through which Duke’s military instructors had expressed their displeasure throughout his long and difficult training. She’d had her own experiences, but in Duke’s line of work, their pipeline to qualify was a whole different ballgame.

  “Let’s go see what Ramel has to say,” she said, pulling open the screen door, the hinges giving a long creak. The humidity of Louisiana made home maintenance challenging in some ways, and Ross tried to help Vivian as much as she could.

  “Right behind ya,” said Duke.

  The air conditioning’s cool kiss sent goose bumps down Ross’s arms. Mayhem happily greeted them, wagging her tail and whining and licking Ross’s hand. “You act like we were gone for a whole week instead of just an hour,” said Ross affectionately as she rubbed May’s black-tipped ears. Duke double-checked the lock and the deadbolt on the front door. Ross tried not to think about how faded Merrick’s runes looked on the door. Maybe Tyr could redo them soon. They headed toward the study-turned-bedroom.

  Niall stood by the window of the study, his arms crossed over his broad chest and his immaculate white-blonde ponytail gleaming in the lamplight. Forin and Farin had claimed the corner of the desk, their auras pulsing with ever-changing colors as they spoke to one another in their melodious language. Vivian sat in the chair by the desk, the hilt of a long, slender sword in her hands. Ross raised her eyebrows, but Vivian’s gaze was focused on the Unseelie Knight.

  For the first time since the night that Molly had joined Corsica, Ramel regarded them all with clear green eyes. He sat with his back supported by a pillow against the wall, a blue shirt draped about his shoulders but left unbuttoned down the front. Ross suspected that Jess or Vivian had gone on a shopping expedition for the Sidhe men, and she had to admit that the front closure of the shirt had been a practical choice. White bandages still wrapped Ramel’s torso and his left arm. The explosion had singed away patches of his coppery hair, but even with the bandages and the burns, Ross had to admit that Ramel still retained that magnetic beauty so particular to the Fae. She wondered how people hadn’t noticed the Exiles for all the years that they’d survived in the mortal world…or perhaps they had, and the Exiles had dealt with it somehow.

  Ramel smiled slightly. “I would have buttoned my shirt if I’d known the audience would be this big.” His voice came out hoarse but better than when Ross had heard him last. She found herself smiling almost involuntarily in response
to his easy humor.

  “How are you feeling?” Vivian asked sincerely, balancing the point of the sword on the edge of the rug that covered the wooden floorboards beneath the desk.

  “Like I was blown up and then almost killed by Mab,” Ramel replied. “Or…I suppose it would be, almost killed by Mab, then blown up, then almost killed by Mab again.”

  “Do you know what is happening in Faeortalam?” Niall asked, his pale eyes intense.

  Ramel acknowledged Niall with a nod. “Vaelanseld. I don’t know details, but I can feel…something. When I had first entered into this world, Queen Mab used me as her eyes and her hands, compelling me to act as she commanded.” His right hand brushed the bandages on his chest in an unconscious gesture. Ross didn’t miss the reactions of the others in the room: Niall’s eyes hardened even further, and Vivian passed the hilt of the sword between her hands restlessly, her mouth pressed into an unhappy line. Ross realized that Vivian looked different somehow. She was still the friend that Ross knew, but there was a new certainty in her motions and intensity in her gaze.

  Ramel took a breath and continued. “After the rune she had placed on me was broken, she withdrew somewhat, but I could still feel her.”

  Vivian glanced over her shoulder at Niall.

  “The Three of the Queens have a bond with her,” the Seelie Vaelanseld explained. “It is difficult to explain, but she can feel us, and we her. Through this bond, though it is more difficult here in the mortal world, we often understand the events surrounding our Queen and her thoughts about them.”

  Ramel shook his head. “Mab doesn’t let us feel anything but her rage. Although it could be that rage is all she feels now.”

  A hint of surprise surfaced in Niall’s eyes. “I have long thought that the Unseelie Queen did not regard her Three as Titania does, but with the tension between our Courts, it was not something I could ask.”

  Ramel grimaced and shifted. “Mab doesn’t exactly have a stellar track record with treating her subjects well. You know the story of Finnead.”

  Niall nodded. “Yes. And he had been one of her Three after she imprisoned him. I did not understand it.”

  “In our Court, we don’t know any other way,” said Ramel. “At least not until the Bearer and then the High Queen.” He blinked, took a breath and then continued. “But we can discuss this another time, Vaelanseld. I must use my time wisely.”

  Ross frowned at that, glancing at Duke. He was still watching Ramel, a crease between his eyebrows.

  “The night that Molly went with Corsica, Mab nearly killed me,” Ramel said, his voice quiet but powerful. A low murmur came from one of the Glasidhe. “Something happened in Faeortalam, I do not know what, but it was an event serious enough that she drew all the power that she could from me.” He glanced down. “I resisted, and it was a sign of her desperation that she did not simply kill me for that. But I survived, and the bond between us…it seems stretched thin between the worlds now.” Ramel paused and gathered himself. His face had gone gray beneath his pale complexion. “Mab was on the edge of sanity when I left Faeortalam. She has always been cruel, but the rune and her treatment of Molly…half-blood or not, it was wrong. And she has kept her sister Andraste imprisoned since her rescue from Malravenar.”

  “Imprisoned? But wasn’t it part of the deal that Tess brought the Lethe stone to Faeortalam so that Andraste could be restored?” Vivian asked the question with casual confidence, the foreign names rolling off her tongue with alacrity.

  “It was,” agreed Ramel. “But Queen Mab is not…predictable.” He shifted again, held his breath and closed his eyes briefly.

  Vivian glanced at Niall with an unspoken question.

  “There is only a bit of white shroud left,” the Seelie Vaelanseld said. “Our stores are running low.”

  “I’ll be fine,” said Ramel gamely, but even Ross could hear the undercurrent of strain in his voice.

  “Perhaps Tyr knows a rune,” said Vivian.

  Ramel took a deep breath. “I do not know whether Tyr would help me.”

  Forin and Farin spoke again in soft voices, their wings fluttering every now and again like butterflies keeping balance on a flower.

  “Why?” Vivian asked what they were all thinking. “With Corsica gone, he’s very…level-headed. Keeping Corsica back from the brink of insanity was taking a lot of his energy.”

  “How exactly does she know that?” Ross murmured to Duke. A glance from Vivian let her know that her friend had heard the question despite the low volume. Ross hoped it didn’t turn into one of the arguments that had been happening with increasing frequency between them as Vivian threw herself headlong into studying with Niall and learning swordsmanship from the Glasidhe. Ross wasn’t blind. She understood the allure of adventure and the siren song of what the Fae offered to Vivian. She wanted to believe that Niall wasn’t somehow using Vivian, but it seemed to her that offering the redhead the idea of being a Paladin – the word seemed foreign even in her thoughts – seemed a bit manipulative.

  “A very long time ago,” said Ramel slowly, “Tyr’s twin sister was one of Princess Andraste’s ladies. Malravenar captured them and tortured her and Finnead, using their pain to convince Andraste to agree to whatever necromancy Malravenar proposed. In the end, after they thought Andraste was dead, Tyr’s sister sacrificed herself so that Knight Finnead could escape.”

  “So why would he not help you?” Vivian asked, her voice almost gentle.

  “I was Knight Finnead’s squire,” said Ramel. Blue tinged his lips. Talking about Tyr’s sister seemed to amplify the pain from his wounds. “I traveled with them. When we were attacked, Finnead ordered me to run. In the middle of the battle, he ordered me to escape so that I could notify the Queen and her Knights.”

  “You are not obligated to tell this story,” said Niall. The compassion in his pale eyes surprised Ross. The Sidhe men so rarely showed such emotion; most of the time, she had trouble reading them. Flickers of expression flashed across their faces or through their eyes and then were gone, but not now.

  “It is a part of my past that I did not think would resurface,” said Ramel heavily. “Just as we thought Andraste was dead, I thought Tyr had perished long ago.”

  “I don’t think Tyr would hold a grudge against you for that,” Vivian said. “You were a squire, doing what your Knight commanded.”

  The light of the lamp on the desk picked out the red sparks in Ramel’s copper hair. He shut his eyes for a moment, one hand pressing against his side. Vivian looked at Niall again.

  “Maybe it’s time for him to rest,” Ross suggested.

  “I will see what I can do for his pain,” said Niall.

  One of the Glasidhe – it was still hard for Ross to tell them apart until they spoke – took off from the desk and flew over to Ramel, hovering by his head. The light of the Glasidhe’s aura darkened the shadows beneath Ramel’s eyes, emphasizing the gray cast to his face and the blue around his lips.

  “We did not know if you were gone, swallowed by the Unseelie Queen,” said Farin with uncharacteristic gravity. “You helped us, you and the Bearer, after the Three Trees burned. The Glasidhe do not forget our friends.” She drifted forward and delicately kissed the Unseelie Knight’s cheek, pressing her small hand against the side of his face before returning to her brother.

  Duke touched Ross’s elbow, and they exited the room as Vivian and Niall moved forward to help situate Ramel for the night. Tyr looked at them over his shoulder from the front door, his fingers stained by a dark substance. Half of the runes on the door, drawn by Merrick what seemed like months ago, shone wetly, dark and newly painted.

  “That’s definitely blood,” said Duke.

  Tyr nodded unconcernedly and turned back to his work.

  “I don’t know whether to feel sick or grateful,” Ross said truthfully. “I’ve been thinking about the wards on the house for a few days, wondering when they’d give out.”

  Duke chuckled. “And you say you do
n’t believe in all this magic stuff.”

  “I never said that,” Ross protested defensively. “I’m a skeptic, but the evidence is right in front of us at this point.”

  Duke stepped close and encircled her waist with his arms. She leaned back against him, his warmth comforting. His breath against her ear sent chills down her spine.

  “Remember I promised to finish what we started?” he murmured, punctuating his words with a little nip at the tender flesh of her earlobe.

  “It never ceases to amaze me how fast you can flip that switch,” said Ross, though she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t that particular heat liquefying her insides at his touch.

  “It’s easy when you’re in front of me,” he said, kissing her neck.

  Tyr traced the runes on the door blithely, as though he didn’t hear them. Ross smiled and wriggled a little against Duke. He caught his breath and she could feel the evidence of his desire for her. Despite the grimness of what they’d just heard from Ramel, despite the uncertainty about the bone sorcerer, despite her worry for Vivian, she still had this one true thing in her life. Noah had been her rock before he disappeared, and now she was getting used to having him back. Through their world being turned upside down, his love for her grounded her, made her think that they were going to be okay, because when she was with him, everything else fell away.

  “Then let’s go see about finishing what we started,” she said, low and sultry. She laced her fingers through his and led him toward their bedroom, thinking that perhaps she could pretend the world wasn’t falling apart around them while he held her in his arms.