A Caress of Twilight

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A Caress of Twilight Page 22

by Laurell K. Hamilton

I nodded. “My father used to talk to Barinthus that way. How is he doing?”

  “As your strongest ally among the Unseelie, he’s making some progress in forming alliances for you.”

  I stared into Doyle’s dark eyes. “What did you just leave out?”

  He closed his eyes, looked down. “Once you could not have seen that in my face.”

  “I’ve been practicing. What did you leave out?”

  “There have been two assassination attempts on him.”

  “Lord and Lady protect us, how serious?”

  “Serious enough that he mentioned them, not so serious that he was truly threatened. Barinthus is one of the oldest of us all. He is a thing of the element of water. Water is not easy to kill.”

  “As you said, Barinthus is my strongest ally. If they kill him, then the rest will fall away.”

  “I would fear that, yes, Princess, but many fear what Cel will be like when he is released from his torment. They fear he will be completely mad, and they do not wish someone like that on the throne. Barinthus believes that is why Cel’s followers are passing around the fear that you will contaminate them all with mortality.”

  “They sound desperate,” I said.

  “No, the desperate part is the talk about declaring war on the Seelie Court. What I did not tell Kurag is that there is talk of war no matter which of you takes the throne. They see Cel’s madness, your mortality, the queen’s weakness as signs that the Unseelie are slipping away, that we are fading as a people. There are some who talk of going to war one last time while we still stand a chance of defeating the Seelie.”

  “If we have a full-scale war on American soil, the human military will be called in. It would break part of the treaty that allowed us into this country in the first place,” Rhys said.

  “I know,” Doyle said.

  “And they think Cel is mad,” Rhys said.

  “Did Barinthus say who’s the main voice behind the idea of war with Seelie?”

  “Siobhan.”

  “The head of Cel’s guard.”

  “There is only one Siobhan,” Doyle said.

  “Thank the Lord and Lady for that,” Rhys said.

  Siobhan was the equivalent of Doyle. She was leprously pale with spiderweb hair and not very tall. Physically she was nothing like Doyle. But just as whenever the queen had said, “Where is my Darkness, send me my Darkness,” and someone had bled or died, so Cel with Siobhan. But she had no nickname; she was simply Siobhan.

  “I hate to be picky,” I said, “but did she receive any punishment for following Cel’s orders and trying to assassinate me?”

  “Yes,” Doyle said, “but it has been months, Meredith, and the punishment is over.”

  “How long was the punishment?” I asked.

  “A month.”

  I shook my head. “A month, for nearly killing a royal heir. What kind of message does that send to everyone else who wants me dead?”

  “Cel gave the order, Meredith, and he is experiencing one of our worst punishments for half a year. No one expects his mind to survive. They see that as the punishment.”

  “And have you ever been in Ezekiel’s tender care for an entire month?” Rhys asked.

  Ezekiel was the court torturer, and had been for many mortal lifetimes. But he was mortal. The queen had found him plying his trade for a human city and so admired his handiwork that she’d offered him a job.

  “I’ve never been in the Hallway of Mortality for a month, no, but I spent my share of time there. Ezekiel always said he had to be so careful of me. He’d spent so many centuries with the immortals that he was afraid he’d kill me by accident. ‘I ’ave to be so careful of ya, Princess, so delicate, so fragile, so human.’ ”

  Rhys shivered. “You imitate his voice well.”

  “He liked to talk while he worked.”

  “I apologize, Merry, you’ve done your time, but that means you understand what it meant for Siobhan to be in his care for a month’s time.”

  “I understand, Rhys, but I’d have felt better if she’d been executed.”

  “The queen is loath to lose any noble-born sidhe,” Doyle said.

  “I know, there aren’t enough to spare.” But I wasn’t happy about it. If you tried to kill a royal heir, the punishment should have been death. Anything less and someone might try again. Come to that, Siobhan might try again.

  “Why does she want war?” I asked.

  “She likes death,” Rhys said.

  I looked at him.

  “I wasn’t the only one who used to be a death deity, and I’m not the only one who lost a great deal of their weirding when the Nameless was cast. Siobhan was not always her name either.”

  That reminded me. “Tell Doyle what you discovered at the murder scene today.”

  He told Doyle about the elder gods and their ghosts. Doyle looked less and less happy. “I did not see Esras do this, but I know the queen gave the command for it. One of the agreements between us and the Seelie was that some spells were never to be performed again. That was one of them.”

  “Theoretically, if we could prove that a sidhe from either court did the spell, would that negate the peace treaty between us?”

  Doyle seemed to think on that. “I don’t know. In the actual agreement, yes, but neither side wishes all-out war.”

  “Siobhan does,” I said, “and she wants me dead. Could she have done it?”

  They both paused to think for a few silent minutes. Kitto just lay quietly beside me.

  “She wants war, so she would have no qualms about doing it,” Doyle said eventually. “But whether she is such a power, I do not know.” He looked at Rhys.

  Rhys sighed. “Once she was. Hell, so was I, once. She might have been able to do it, but that would mean she was here in California. You don’t send them out of sight and expect to be able to control them. Out of sight of their magical keeper, they’ll just wander around slaughtering people. They won’t hunt Merry, not specifically.”

  “Are you sure of that?” Doyle asked.

  “Yes, of that much I am sure.”

  “Wouldn’t Barinthus have mentioned if Siobhan was missing from court?” I asked.

  “He specifically said she’s being a pain in his … ass.”

  “So she’s there,” I said.

  “But that doesn’t mean that she didn’t leave for a time.”

  “But it still wouldn’t get Merry killed,” Rhys said.

  “Good to know,” I said, then I added, “But what if my death is only a sideline? What if the real purpose behind it all is war between the courts?”

  “Then why not have the elder ones doing their horror in Illinois near the courts?” Doyle asked.

  “Because whoever did it wants war, not an execution for themselves,” I said.

  Doyle nodded. “That is true. If the queen discovered anyone had performed one of the forbidden spells, she would execute them in hopes that Taranis would be appeased.”

  “And he would be,” Rhys said, “because neither ruler wants all-out war.”

  “So in order to get their little war started, they have to get away with it,” I said. “Think about it; if it’s proven to the courts that it’s sidhe magic at work, but can’t be proven which side did it, then suspicion mounts on both sides.”

  “And the Nameless,” Doyle said, “only a sidhe could have freed it. Only a sidhe could have hidden it from both courts.”

  “Siobhan isn’t capable of freeing the Nameless,” Rhys said. “That I am sure of.”

  “Wait,” I said, “didn’t the queen say that Taranis is refusing to help search for it? Refuses to admit that anything so terrible could be part of his court?”

  Doyle nodded. “Yes, she did.”

  “What if it’s somebody from the Seelie Court?” I said. “Would we have more trouble tracking it?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Are you saying that the traitor is Seelie?” Rhys asked.

  “Maybe, or maybe we’ve got two traitor
s. Siobhan could have raised the elder gods, and someone from the other court could have freed the Nameless.”

  “Why free the Nameless?” Rhys asked.

  “If you could control it,” Doyle said, almost as if he was talking to himself, “it would give someone access to all the most elder and frightening powers of faerie. If you could control it, you might become unstoppable.”

  “Someone’s preparing for war,” I said.

  Doyle took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I must inform the queen about the elder ghosts. I will share some of our speculation about the Nameless, as well.” He looked at me. “And until we are certain that the elder gods cannot be directed at you, you will stay inside the wards.”

  “Can the wards hold them off?”

  He frowned and looked at Rhys, who shrugged. “I saw them let loose in open battle. I know that wards can keep out anything that means harm, but I don’t know how powerful these things will become. Especially if they are allowed to feed. They may grow to be able to breach nearly any ward.”

  “Thanks, that was comforting,” I said.

  He turned a serious face to me. “It wasn’t meant to be comforting, Merry. Just honest.” He gave a wistful smile. “Besides, we’ll all give our lives to keep you safe, and we’re pretty hard to kill.”

  “You don’t think you’ll win,” I said. “How do you fight something that’s invisible, and untouchable, but can see you and touch you? Something that can drink the life out of your mouth, like we’d empty a soda bottle. How do you fight that?”

  “For that, I will speak to the queen.” Doyle stood up and went for the bathroom, with its smaller mirror. Apparently, he wanted privacy.

  He stopped at the door. “Call Jeremy and tell him we won’t be back today. Until we know if this is a direct threat to Merry, we guard her and her alone.”

  “And what do we do for money? ” I asked.

  He sighed, rubbing his eyes as if he was tired. “I admire your determination to owe no one. I even agree with it. But things would be simpler if we took a stipend from the court and had only court politics to worry about. There will come a time, Meredith, when we cannot work a nine-to-five job and survive the politics.”

  “I don’t want to take her money, Doyle.”

  “I know, I know. Call Jeremy, explain that you will be sitting with Kitto. When you tell him that Kitto’s fading and you’ve saved him, Jeremy will understand.”

  “You don’t want him to know about the elder ghosts?”

  “This is sidhe business, Meredith, and he is not sidhe.”

  “Sure, but if the sidhe go to war, then so do all the fey. My great-grandmother was a brownie. All she wanted to do was stay near her human’s home and tend it, but she got killed in one of the last great wars. If they’re going to be dragged into it, then shouldn’t they know about it beforehand?”

  “Jeremy is exiled from faerie, so he will not be involved.”

  “You’re ignoring my point,” I said.

  “No, Meredith, I am not, but I don’t know what to say to your point. Until I can think of what to say, I will say nothing.” With that he went around the corner. I heard the bathroom door open, then close.

  Rhys patted my arm. “Gutsy of you to suggest that fey other than sidhe should have a vote. Very democratic.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Rhys.”

  He dropped his hand. “I even agree with you, Meredith, but our vote doesn’t count for much. Once you’re on the throne, maybe that will change; but right now, there is no way in all the kingdoms of faerie that a sidhe ruler will agree to include the lesser fey in our war talks. They’ll be notified when we decide to go to war, not before.”

  “That’s not fair,” I said.

  “No, but it’s the way we do things.”

  “Get me on a throne and maybe that can change.”

  “Oh, Merry, don’t let us risk our lives to make you queen, only to have you turn around and piss off all the sidhe. We can fight off some of them, but not all of them.”

  “There are a lot more lesser fey than sidhe, Rhys.”

  “Numbers aren’t what counts, Merry.”

  “What does count?”

  “Strength: strength of arms, strength of magic, strength of leadership. The sidhe have all that, and that is why, my pretty princess, we have ruled the fey for millennia.”

  “He’s right,” Kitto said softly.

  I looked down at him, still pale, but not that frightening translucent uncolor. “The goblins are great warriors.”

  “Yes, but not great wizards. And Kurag fears the sidhe. Everyone who is not sidhe fears the sidhe,” Kitto said.

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” I said.

  “I am,” he said, and he crept even closer, spooning his entire body around me, holding himself as tight against me as he could. “I am.”

  Chapter 27

  THE UPSIDE TO KITTO’S NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCE WAS THAT I got to go back to bed and sleep. I’d suggested that Doyle join us, but Frost had thrown a fit. So Doyle had just begged out, as long as Frost didn’t get to join us either. I’d pointed out that Doyle and I had gotten the least amount of sleep last night, but Frost didn’t care. I also pointed out that we were just going to sleep, so did it really matter who slept with me? Neither of them were moved by my arguments.

  So, I got to go back to bed and cuddle Kitto. I made him take my usual side of the bed, though, so I could spoon around his body without lying on the shoulder that he’d bitten. I’d taken some Advil, but the shoulder still ached fiercely like it had its own pulse. It hadn’t hurt nearly this much the first time he’d marked me. Maybe it was a good sign. I hoped so. I hated to have something hurt this much for no good purpose.

  Jeremy had been furious that none of us were coming back to the office, until he found out that Kitto had nearly died.

  He was silent for a long time, long enough for me to say his name softly.

  “I’m here, Merry, just bad memories. I’ve seen fey fade away before. Do what you need to do to take care of him. We’ll muddle through at the office. They’re going to keep Teresa overnight for observation. She’s sedated, so I don’t know how much they’re going to be observing.”

  “Is she going to be all right?”

  He hesitated. “Probably. But I’ve never seen her like she was today. Her husband yelled at me for endangering her. He doesn’t want her doing any more crime scenes. I can’t blame him.”

  “You think Teresa will agree with him?”

  “I don’t know if it matters, Merry. I’ve made an executive decision. The Grey Detective Agency no longer does police work. I’m a good magician, but I had no clue what did that today. I could feel the remnants of a spell, but that was all. I told Detective Tate what I’d felt, but Lieutenant Peterson didn’t want to hear it. He’s determined that it’s something mundane. Extraordinary, but mundane.” Jeremy sounded tired.

  “You sound like you need to go to bed and cuddle up to somebody, too.”

  “You volunteering?” He laughed. “Greedy ol’ Merry wanting to take up all the fey men in L.A.”

  “If you need to come over and be held, you’d be welcome.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “I’d almost forgotten that.”

  “Forgotten what?”

  “That it’s okay to be held by your friends in ways that humans consider sexual. That it would be all right for me to come and cuddle close to you while we slept.”

  “If you need it.”

  “I’ve been out among the humans too long, Merry. I don’t think entirely like a trow anymore. I don’t know if I could go to bed with you and not have it turn sexual.”

  I hadn’t known what to say to that.

  When I woke, the light against the drapes was fading to dusk. I was still spooned around Kitto’s body, and he was still pressed against me as tight as he could get. It was as if neither of us had moved all day. I lay there for a moment feeling how stiff my body was from simply being immobile for so lo
ng. The shoulder ached distantly, ignorable. Kitto’s breathing was still deep and regular. What had woken me?

  Then a soft knocking sounded at the door again. It opened before I could say anything. Galen peered through. He smiled when he saw me awake.

  “How’s Kitto?”

  I moved enough to prop myself up on one elbow and look down at the goblin. He made a small sound and cuddled in against me so that there was again no space between his body and mine.

  “He looks better, and he’s warm.” I combed my fingers through his curls. His head moved to cuddle in against the movement of my hand, but he never woke.

  “Is anything wrong?” I asked.

  Galen made a face that I couldn’t quite read. “Well, not exactly.”

  I frowned at him. “What is it?”

  He came into the room, gently closing the door behind him. We talked in low voices, so as not to disturb Kitto.

  Galen came to stand at the end of the bed. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt whose pale green color brought out the green tint in his skin, intensified the darker color of his hair. The pants were just faded blue jeans washed until they were almost white. There was a hole in the middle of his thigh where white threads gave hints of the pale green skin underneath.

  I realized he’d said something and I hadn’t been paying attention. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  He grinned, flashing white teeth. “Queen Niceven’s representative is here. He says he has strict orders to collect the first payment before he tells us the secret of how to cure me.”

  My gaze went back to the hole in his pants, then traveled up his body until I met those grass green eyes. The heat in his eyes matched the tightening in my body.

  Kitto stirred beside me, opened his blue, blue eyes. Talking, doors opening, and my moving hadn’t stirred him; but the tightening of my body in response to Galen, that had woken him.

  I explained briefly that Niceven’s man was here. Kitto had no problem with the demi-fey coming into the room. I’d known he would have no problem. I’d asked for politeness’ sake. The queen wouldn’t have asked, but I think it was more that she didn’t care what someone thought, rather than her knowing they wouldn’t mind.

  Galen went back to the door and opened it wide. A tiny figure fluttered in. The body was about the size of a small Barbie doll. His wings were larger than the rest of his body, and mostly rich butter yellow with lines and bars of black and spots of blue and orangey-red. He hovered over the bed, above me. His body was a slightly paler version of the rich yellow of his wings. He wore a filmy yellow skirt, or kilt, as his only clothing.

 

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