by Megan Derr
Noire nodded and settled back down. Gael left him and headed for the sanctuary, walking slowly, his mind more on his inner turmoil than what his feet were doing. As he had expected, Freddie was in the Sanctuary sitting with Verenne's head in her lap, humming softly. "Five days to go," he said quietly. "We'll fix it, Freddie. I promise."
"I believe you mean it," Freddie replied. "I don't necessarily believe that it will happen."
Gael could not really take offense to that. He sat down nearby, combing his fingers restlessly through the soft grass. "We need to speak with Etain."
"Well, good luck getting to her," Freddie said bitterly. "I have tried to track her dozens of times since Verenne fell, and she is avoiding me like a cat avoiding a bath. She knows what we want to discuss, and she's not going to discuss it."
"Can't say I blame her," Gael replied. "I have a lover, you have a lover—lovers we have had in secret for quite some time because we were too cowardly to step forward and come clean." He heaved a sigh. "Worst of all is that I am still not happy it is coming out now. I wanted to protect Noire, and now I fear that he is in more danger than ever before."
Freddie nodded. "We have been bastards, but I won't be sorry for trying to protect them, only sorry I did not try harder to find a better way to handle it all. Mistakes seem to be the only thing Verde is good at, anymore. Do you think the ceremony will succeed, Gael? Be honest."
"Honestly, I doubt it," Gael said, tearing grass in his anxiety, throwing the torn bites aside. "We don't know how or why it always goes wrong. Etain is mad at us and will be for a very long time. But she would never kill us—" He broke off with a cry as pain shot through his head, so sharp and sudden it left him dizzy and breathless. When he was finally able to speak again several minutes later, he said, "I don't know how much more of this I can take. The country is in pieces, and people are so scared, so angry, all purity in the land is lost. And I cannot purify it as I am. We need the ceremony to succeed more than ever, but will it? I just don't know and my doubts are greater than my hopes."
"I guess we can only push on as we have been, even though we all know we are just stumbling in the dark and about to walk right off the edge of a cliff." Freddie looked down at Verenne, stroked her hair. "I can't lose her, Gael. She's my strength."
Gael said nothing, mind going to Noire, hopefully still fast asleep in his bed and safe from the turmoil for a little while. "I don't know how you're handling it," Gael said. "If I lost Noire, I would lose my mind."
"Strength is all I have left," Freddie said, bitterness creeping back into her voice. "If I had the strength—and stupidity—to keep us apart when we could have at least been happy for a time, then I will have the strength to hold on until we are all safe or all dead."
They subsided into silence, and Gael tried to be soothed by the Sanctuary. He could feel power emanating from the Sacred Oak, only slightly, the barest tendrils creeping out to explore. If all went according to plan, that power would be his in five days—his, Freddie's, and Etain's. By the Oak, the ceremony had to work. There was no choice in the matter.
But they barely even knew what to do beyond show up on the appointed day. Chaos serve them well and undo the Tragedy that seemed to be their fate.
He looked up as a steady thudding sound broke the heavy silence and saw that it was raining. The rain pounded down on the glass room, the sound of it echoing in the Sanctuary, and for a moment, Gael almost thought that he was caught up in the middle of a storm.
His heart began to beat wildly, breaths quick and uneven, and he fisted his hands so their sudden trembling would cease. A prayer to chaos and suddenly a storm? Gael let out a shaky laugh and wiped away the tears that had spilled down his cheeks. He dropped his gaze and caught Freddie's eyes, and they shared a brief, hopeful smile.
Freddie bent to kiss Verenne, then reluctantly stood up. She groaned as she stretched, and Gael noticed all the grass stains on her clothes. "How long have you been here, Freddie?"
"I sleep here," Freddie said. "When I am not needed elsewhere, I am also here. I will not be parted from her anymore, not more than is strictly necessary. If this—if these five days are all we have left, I will spend them here."
Gael nodded and hugged her tightly. He might not have been in love with Freddie and Etain, but they were his sisters, his companions in eternity, and he would always love them. "Come on," he said at last. "We need to go find Etain and finally have done with this."
"Yes, I suppose we do," Freddie said with a sigh. "She is probably hiding in her greenhouse."
The greenhouse was Etain's favorite place to go when she needed to be by herself. When she was not caring for the plants there, she arranged bouquets to give away or experimented with creating new flowers.
They did not make it even a dozen steps from the Sanctuary before Noire came running toward them. "Lady Seraphin," he said quietly as he reached them, slightly out of breath and pale with worry.
Gael reached out to cup his face, offering what little comfort he could, still not used to being able to do it where anyone could see. Freddie sighed beside him. "Well, we knew it was coming. I feel bad for them, sitting and waiting for it, never knowing how—" She broke off with a soft, choked sob. "Ailill is the only one left. I wish they had let us secure them somewhere, keep them safe—"
"I think they were right when they said they were never going to be safe," Gael cut in. "Lead the way, kitten, so we can put Lady Seraphin with the others."
Freddie's mouth twitched, the barest hint of amusement in it. Gael knew if any of them had levity left in them, Freddie would have been teasing him mercilessly about having been sleeping with their Voice the entire time—and calling him kitten.
Thinking about it somehow made him feel better; it reaffirmed that he was not in the wrong for choosing Noire over them. He was happier knowing Freddie had Verenne. All they needed was for Etain to accept it and let that element of the Triad go. He did not doubt for a moment that Etain would find her own someone, or someones, eventually. Someone who would love her, not lie to and betray her.
Noire led the way through the too-quiet palace halls. They were dark, most of the sconces unlit because there were no servants to maintain the lighting and not enough people to take over the duty. The walls were broken in places from fights that had broken out. The musical hall was a wreckage of shattered glass and broken instruments. On every hall, in every room, there was some sign of the rage.
Finally they reached Lady Seraphin's bedroom, where she had fallen over on her breakfast tray. Gael scowled and went to her, sat beside, her and gingerly cleaned her face, picking bits of egg from her hair. So quiet, so sweet, but capable of a tenacity that could bend a room to her will. She was not the strongest or most powerful of the Beasts, but she had will enough to impress even Freddie.
Last Gael had heard, she was set to be married. Her fiancé was back at their country home to mind it while Seraphin focused on the ceremony. Gael hoped he was still alive and that there would still be a wedding.
Gently pulling her from her seat, he cradled her in his arms and left the room, Noire and Freddie a few paces behind him. Back in the Sanctuary, which he was truly beginning to hate, Gael settled Seraphin in her place. He stood, reflexively brushing grass from his pants, and stared at the lone empty spot remaining.
"I must go speak with Ailill," Gael said. "He needs to know that Seraphin is gone and he is the only one remaining. Freddie, I will meet you in our chambers shortly, and then we can go on with what we meant to do."
Freddie nodded and left, leaving Gael and Noire alone.
"Gael ... "
"You look terrified kitten," Gael said softly. "I remember how overwhelmed you were when you were made our Voice. I did not think I would ever see you more terrified than that."
Noire laughed, but it came out more tearful than amused. "I'm tired of it all, Gael. What's going to happen in five days?"
"I don't know," Gael said with a sigh. "We can only hope for the best." He
tilted his head back and stared up at the glass dome where the rain was falling steadily, if not as heavily as it had before. "There is nothing we can do, but face the ceremony and do all that is within our power to see it through." He looked back down, closed the short space between them, and cupped Noire's face. "Only promise me, kitten, that you will take every care the next five days. We have come too far for me to lose you now."
"That goes both ways," Noire said quietly, pale eyes so intent that staring into them hurt. "I can't lose you either, Gael. Don't be another tragedy."
Gael brushed a soft kiss across his mouth. "I promise." He took a longer kiss, savoring the flavor and feel of his lover, searing it into memory. Then he forced himself to step back and said, "I must go speak with Ailill. Have a care, kitten. I'll see you later."
Noire nodded and let him go, and Gael slowly made his way out of the Sanctuary and through the halls until he reached Ailill's suite. He knocked on the door and did not have to wait more than a moment before the door was opened by Ivan, who stared at him grimly. "I am sorry," Gael said softly.
"Sorry only goes so far," Ivan said and sighed, then stepped back and let him in.
Gael winced inwardly at the words, but did not argue them. He stepped inside and looked around. Ailill was sitting at the table, reading a book and sipping tea. When he saw Gael, he stood up and joined them. "So it's only me, then?"
"Only you," Gael said quietly, and he bit back the urge to say again that he was sorry. "I advise you to stay in your room and answer the door to no one you do not absolutely trust—the Triad and our Voice, I would say. But if you chose to avoid us as well, I would take no offense. Please be careful."
Ailill nodded. "I trust the Triad to complete the ceremony and put the Tragedy behind us forever."
"Whatever it takes," Gael said softly, silently hoping that he would be able to keep all the rash promises he was making. "If you have need of anything, send a note to my chambers and I'll attend it personally. Please, Ailill, be careful." He kissed both of Ailill's cheeks, then gave a half bow and left.
He felt tired, far older than his thirty-five years. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and curl around Noire. He lingered on the thought for a few minutes, let it soothe and motivate him, then gently pushed it aside to focus on reality.
Freddie was waiting for him in the hallway, leaning against the wall with one foot braced against it. She pushed herself upright when she saw him and fell into step beside him as they made their way to the royal gardens, cutting all the way through them to the greenhouses at the back.
There were a dozen greenhouses in all, and eleven of them were maintained by the royal gardeners. Gael winced to see the plants that had already withered and died inside. Without care, they had not been able to sustain themselves long. The rain had slowed to a lazy drizzle, but he still soaked through fairly quickly.
He looked away, trying to ignore the dying garden around him. It seemed unfair that things gave up and died so quickly, that the strength and will to live had been so quickly lost. But after nine hundred years of failure, why should anyone, or anything, have any faith left?
Gael tried to shake off his gloom; a poor state of mind would only hinder him in the looming conversation.
Ha. Conversation. It only lacked weapons to make it a proper battle. He shared a look with Freddie and took her hand as they reached the very last greenhouse, marked with the Triad crest over the door in gold and silver paint. Inside, he could just see Etain at the far end. "I wish there was someone to wish us luck."
"We don't need luck, merely fortitude, and that we have," Freddie said, showing a hint of her usual self. Gael smiled faintly and opened the door, then took the plunge and led the way inside and across the greenhouse.
Etain did not turn around to greet them as they reached her, merely continued fussing with the bouquets of flowers she was arranging. Gael wondered who in the world was left to be gifted them, but didn't ask. "Etain, we need to talk. Avoiding the conversation will not make it go away."
"I'm not interested in discussing anything," Etain said, still not looking at them. "The ceremony is in five days; nothing else is important."
"This is," Gael said. "Freddie and I have been horrible long enough. We should have admitted all a long time ago."
Etain viciously clipped off the ends of several rose stems, then thrust the blossoms into a deep red vase. "I don't want to discuss it."
"We're discussing it," Freddie said sharply, walking up to her and snatching the shears away—and hissing in surprise when Etain suddenly slapped her, leaving a livid red hand print on her cheek. Freddie set the shears down, then took Etain's hand, lifted it and kissed the back of it. "I'm sorry, Etain. I truly am. But as much as I love you, I am not in love with you. I cannot carry on lying anymore. It hurts me, it hurts you, and it hurts Verenne. I never should have tried to lie in the first place."
"We should never have lied in the first place," Gael said. "Whatever my reasons, they did not justify lying to you or hiding from you. Nothing justifies hurting you. I'm sorry. We're sorry."
Etain shoved Freddie away and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself as she began to cry, brilliant wings drooping. "We're the Triad!" she sobbed. "We're supposed to be together—love each other. If you want to have dirty little affairs, what do I care? But you belong to me, to each other. We belong together, a perfect trinity. You're supposed to love me! Not them." She covered her face with her hands and began to weep.
Gael flinched. He hated when Etain cried. He hated he had caused the tears. He started to go to her, but a sharp look from Freddie recalled him. Comforting her would just throw it in her face that they were ending their affair.
"Why would you choose them over me? I'm your equal, I'm your sister. I know you better than anyone else ever could. We're meant to rule over life together—you can't leave me for a couple of whores!"
"That's enough," Freddie said sharply. "If you want to be mad at us, call us names, then you do it. We deserve every shred of your anger and your hate. What we did was inexcusable. Do not malign our lovers, however. They are not the ones at fault here."
Etain said nothing, so Gael said, "Etain, you will always be our sister, and we'll always love you. I'm sorry we cannot be your lovers as well, but I cannot continue to live a lie. It's just another poison, and it's time to purify it. However much I regret causing you pain, I am sorry. We will always stand with you. I will always be your brother. But I cannot be your lover, anymore. I'm truly sorry."
"I don't want your useless, empty apologies," Etain suddenly snarled, colorful eyes bright and sharp with fury. Her wings flapped sharp and restless on her back, the colors almost painfully bright. "We are the Triad, we are meant to be close in all ways. By breaking this tradition, by succumbing to the wiles of those whores, you are risking everything! Can you not see that? Come to your senses, both of you! Love me! Not them!"
Freddie and Gael exchanged a look, and then Freddie said in a tight, sad voice, "I'm sorry, Etain. I know those words are inadequate, and I would never ask your forgiveness, but my heart belongs to someone else."
Etain could move fast when she wanted, something Gael always forgot until he saw her do it. He was rarely the victim of her speed, however, and so it came as a shock when she slapped him, nails raking, blood dripping down his cheek like tears. "You're supposed to love me," she said bitterly, crying, sounding so plaintive and sad it hurt.
Gael cupped her shoulders and leaned in to kiss her forehead softly, then stepped back. He started to say he was sorry again, but didn't. Turning, he left the greenhouse, Freddie close behind him. The rain had picked up again, stinging as it struck the scratches on his cheek. "That could have gone better," he said tiredly.
"It could have gone worse," Freddie said. "Why do you think I took the shears away? But do not think it is over, Gael. That was only round one. First blood. She was never going to start the discussion, but she'll pursue it until she gains a conclusion that satis
fies her."
"She won't get it," Gael said flatly. "I love Noire. As much as I loved both of you—I just—I couldn't. Not the way I love him. And I'm sorry."
Freddie hugged him and kissed his cheek. "It's okay. I am hardly in a position to judge. We'll always be family; we do not need to be lovers, too. Give it time enough, and we'll make amends with Etain. Surely as gods we will all ... well, I hope things will be easier, though I guess that is a foolish hope. Come on, let us leave her alone. I could use a cup of tea, and we both need dry clothes. Oak, maybe I'll actually find a way to heat my own bath water. I am dying for a proper hot bath."
Gael laughed as Freddie led him away, her arm flung over his shoulder, familiar and comforting. "I'll help you with your bath water, Freddie. But then I definitely want that cup of tea."
"Sounds like a plan," Freddie said, then added with a sigh, "And perhaps by then we will be ready for round two. Or maybe she'll avoid us until the ceremony. The coward's way, but on top of everything else we are facing, I am willing to take it for now."
"We'll see," Gael replied, and he tried to think only of baths and tea and not all that could happen in five days.
Chapter Fifteen: Trapped
Noire finished tying his hair back as he stepped into the sitting room, but his greeting froze on his lips when he realized that Gael was not in the room. Well, that was odd, but perhaps he had been called away for something. Strange he had not at least ...
But even as he thought it, Noire saw the note on the table, propped against his teacup. Crossing the room, he picked it up and unfolded it, then read: Kitten, went to settle a problem in the east wing. Enjoy breakfast, then meet me in the great hall at a quarter past. Love, Gael.
Smiling, curious, but content to wait, Noire obediently sat down to eat breakfast. Without anyone to talk to, however, it went quickly. Having nothing else to do, he made his way to the great hall early.
Were they going into the city? That didn't seem likely; it was too much of a risk. Perhaps it pertained to the ceremony. That seemed the likeliest.
