A Sliver of Shadow

by Allison Pang

  He blinked at me. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “You don’t even want to know. Ask me in the morning.” I picked out another leaf from my hair, smiling when our fingers entwined. His other hand tipped my chin up toward him, his lips brushing over mine tenderly.

  “Mmm,” I sighed. “That’s the way to end the night. Start the morning? I don’t even know what time it is.”

  “Guess I missed out on my chance for a good night kiss, then.” Brystion yawned from the windowsill, rolling a bottle of wine between nimble fingers. His eyes were dark as he watched us, but there was a hint of mischief about his mouth.

  Startled, I pulled away from Talivar, though he kept his hand locked on mine. “Uh. Yeah? That is …” I shook my head. Why was I going to apologize? “Never mind. I’m too tired to deal with this now.”

  Talivar released me, his gaze flat. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you were expecting someone else.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t expecting either of you. I certainly didn’t invite anyone, if that’s what you’re implying.” Inwardly, I sighed. Maybe this was the part where I went and poured water all down the front of my chemise to distract them with the medieval equivalent of a wet T-shirt contest?

  The incubus nodded at my hair. “I thought he was supposed to be guarding you. Maybe you need to find a replacement for the job.”

  Talivar snorted. “Like you, perhaps? Wouldn’t that be convenient?”

  The pillowy softness of the monstrous four-poster bed beckoned to me. I pointed at both men. “Tell you what, gentlemen, I’m going to excuse myself completely from this conversation. Stay or go, but I’m going to bed. If either of you wake me up, I will shove a pillow so far up your ass you’ll taste feathers. “I blinked sweetly at their blank stares and extricated myself to crawl beneath the covers.

  There was a silence as the two men quietly sized each other up. Phineas jumped off the bed. “Too many dicks on the dance floor,” he muttered, heading for the shelter beneath the mattress. Not that I blamed him.

  The sound of heated whispers had me cracking an eye to peer at the elf and the incubus, locked in a dispute that seemed to involve a lot of hand gesturing. Much of it pointing in my direction. I decided I didn’t care. A moment later I heard the cork of the wine bottle being pulled and the clink of glasses. At least it wasn’t being bashed over someone’s head.

  “Enjoy your newfound bromance, boys,” I mumbled and drifted off to sleep.

  Twenty-four

  I shifted my legs to curl into the heat coiled around the curve of my spine, a hand gently rubbing my hip. I exhaled and sank further into the mattress. Outside, a dove cooed mournfully. I supposed it was morning, but I wasn’t willing to open my eyes and verify that yet. Everything was deliciously warm and soft.

  Playful fingers stroked my head, twirling the loose strands of my hair, even as a third hand splayed against my belly. Dimly, I realized that was one hand too many. I cracked an eye; the soft light of dawn streamed in through one window to bathe the bed in a soft haze. Frowning, I tried to remember what had happened the night before. I’d gone to bed, right? Right.

  Which begged the question of why there were multiple uninvited bodies pressed up against me. I lifted my head and took a long, leisurely look at my bed. Blinked. Shut my eyes and lay back down.

  I was on my right side, Brystion spooning me from behind. Talivar lay on his back in front of me, my left leg sprawled somewhat indecently over his hips. That they were both still fully clothed was at least some comfort that I hadn’t done something foolish. The fact that my chemise seemed to be riding dangerously high on my thigh was not.

  “Okay, then. When does the orgy start?”

  “Don’t think that was part of the bargain,” Ion whispered in my ear, nuzzling the sensitive spot right behind it. “Maybe you’re dreaming,” he added slyly.

  “Mmmph,” I grunted. “While I can’t deny there’s something appealing about being sandwiched between the two of you, if this were a dream you guys would be naked.” Which was true. But on the other hand …

  “Shush,” Talivar murmured. “We’ll talk about it later. Go back to sleep. There’s still time yet.”

  Time for what? I tucked the covers around me as best I could, the subtle shift of our bodies making room for each other as we readjusted ourselves. I sighed and let consciousness slip away again, safe within my cocoon of sheets and sleep.

  When I awoke several hours later, I was alone.

  Phineas and I sprawled out on the grass in Moira’s private gardens, looking up at the sky, mostly under the assumption that food would be arriving shortly. Or so Moira had assured us when she found us wandering the hallway outside her door.

  Of my would-be suitors there was no sign other than the empty wine bottle on the mantel. I’d found a new dress in the wardrobe, though I suspected it was more of a shift than a proper dress. I’d have given just about anything for some pants, but apparently those were in short supply. For lying around in a garden, it worked.

  “And they drank all the wine?”

  “Yeah,” the unicorn snorted. “One minute they were bitching at each other about which one was going to guard you and then Brystion decided he didn’t want the bottle of wine to go to waste. Next thing I knew, they were sitting in front of the fireplace swapping stories. Go figure.” He cocked an eye at me slyly. “You probably don’t want to know what the stories were about, though.”

  I shuddered. “No, I don’t think so. Odd, though. I thought this was the part where they had a duel over me or something. Fought for my honor. Fairy-tale shit.”

  “Fairy tales are overrated. Besides, that would have ruined the illusion when they started making out …”

  “They what?” A possible variation of that image seared into my brain and refused to leave.

  “Oh, yeah,” Phineas yawned. “They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Surprised it didn’t wake you up. Especially when Talivar dragged out the assless leather chaps and started riding the incubus around like a pony.”

  I scowled at him. “I think someone’s been reading too much yaoi.”

  “Maybe. But the look on your face is pretty priceless.”

  “I thought you couldn’t lie.”

  “Lie, no. Exaggerate the hell out of something? Absolutely.”

  “Whatever. Let’s just call waking up with them as unexpected and leave it at that.”

  Melanie glanced over at us from where she sat cross-legged on a blanket. “I think it’s cute. And refreshing. Better than the usual chest-beating and knuckle dragging thing.” She flopped down beside us. “Wow. Faery grass is wicked soft.”

  “I’ll be sure to take pictures for you next time.”

  She sniggered. “Is there going to be a next time? You’re a bit more liberal than I thought, Abby. Good for you.”

  “Mmmph. Where the hell is breakfast?”

  “We could always head down to the main hall,” Melanie suggested, patting her belly.

  Phin and I shared a look and I shook my head. “Yeah, you know what? I think it would be best if I avoided the court stuff as much as possible from here on out.”

  “This have anything to do with that scrape on the side of your mouth?”

  “Yeah. And I want to wait until Moira gets here before I talk about it.”

  Melanie nodded, pulling her violin from her case to run through her scales. It said something about our friendship that she was willing to let it go, and I was grateful for it. A few moments later she had already moved into a soft version of Canon in D.

  “Music to brood by,” I quipped, as the incubus ambled his way toward us through Moira’s solarium.

  “Sleep well?” Ion’s dark voice rumbled, one brow arched suggestively. Without waiting for an invitation he stretched out beside me with his arms behind his head.

  “You would know. Where’s your partner-in-crime?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure he’s off doing something noble and pri
ncely. Seems the type.”

  “Maybe he’s getting breakfast.” Phineas rolled over to shake himself.

  “Gods know I could use something to eat.” Brystion nudged me. There was something suggestive about it, but the golden flare of his eyes bespoke something a bit more serious.

  “Ah.” I flushed, suddenly understanding. “What about your TouchStone?”

  “She was short term,” he said softly, staring up at the sky. “They all are. Besides, without the CrossRoads open I can’t manage to make it into the Dreaming anyway.”

  “I didn’t realize things were going to get this messy.”

  His mouth quirked into a half smile. “Of course you did. With you, the shit doesn’t just hit the fan, it coats the walls.”

  “And isn’t that a lovely image.” I fingered the folds of the gown. “Look, if we can’t get this stuff figured out in the next few days, I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Generous of you. But I think we’ll have bigger problems than that. You’ve become a target, Abby.”

  “Getting a bit slow on the draw, aren’t you? I kind of figured that out yesterday.”

  “I’m serious,” he snapped. “Don’t let a few kisses from a prince fuck with your head. This isn’t some sort of Sleeping Beauty bullshit. I will take you out of Faerie if this doesn’t resolve soon.”

  I flinched beneath the reproach. “I know. And I’m doing the best I can.” I glanced up to see Talivar approaching us with a small basket. The prince frowned when he saw Brystion, but whatever he was going to say was lost when I noticed the small figure beside him. “Jimmy!”

  The pig-man gave a little grunt, which I took to be of good humor when his mouth split into a broad grin.

  “You have a visitor,” Talivar said, setting the basket beside me. “Sorry I’m so late. I found him outside the main gates, seeking an audience with me.”

  “Just a wee bit o’ an excuse,” Jimmy mumbled, his ears pinking. “I knew they wasna gonna lets me in so easy to see ye, belikes.” He paused, beady eyes glancing down at my dress, his snout quivering wetly. “And I brought ye a wee bit of something too. Though maybe ye do no’ need it so much now.” Pulling off his shoulder sack, he rummaged through it for a moment, clucking in satisfaction as he pulled out a large bolt of silk. “A gift from the silkworms.”

  I smiled, genuine happiness flooding my chest as I took it from him. “I’ll have something made up with it as soon as I can,” I assured him, strangely touched by his gesture.

  The prince opened the basket to reveal a cluster of soft biscuits and a bowl of fruit. “There’s meat and eggs to be had, but I couldn’t carry enough up here for everyone.” His mouth pursed as his gaze slid to Jimmy. “And under the circumstances …”

  “I get it.” And even I would feel a bit odd downing a plate of bacon in front of Jimmy. I snagged a biscuit, tossing another into Melanie’s lap.

  “I’ll have the servants bring up the rest of it,” Talivar said. “I hadn’t realized you were all planning on breakfasting out here until Moira informed me.”

  “Speaking of which, where is she?”

  “Attending Mother. The Queen apparently had some sort of shock last night after I saw her to her rooms.”

  I stopped chewing and swallowed hard. “Yeah. About that.”

  The prince frowned. “Is that what you meant last night?”

  “Yeah. She found me in the garden after I talked to my father and, uh … tried to TouchStone me.” I winced, ignoring Ion’s low whistle. “It didn’t go well.”

  “Especially when Abby linebackered her ass into the dirt,” Phin said with a cough.

  “You attacked my mother?” Talivar stared at me, his mouth gaping.

  “Not by choice,” I retorted. “Would you have preferred it if I’d let her suck me dry after I became her TouchStone? Though I don’t think she cared for the gag much.”

  Brystion made a little gesture with his hand. “Shit. Fan. Splatter.”

  “Ha-ha. And now you know why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Jimmy shifted uncomfortably beside us. I clenched the cloth he’d given me and got to my feet. “Excuse me a moment, guys. Think I’m going to do something with this.”

  I started toward the solarium and waved at Jimmy to follow. The pig-man hesitated, but shuffled behind after a minute. Not that I didn’t trust him exactly, but I suspected there was going to be a discussion or two about to happen that I didn’t really want to be involved in. Not one he needed to be privy to, anyway.

  “Sounds like ye’ve been busy,” he mused, his broad feet slapping loudly on the wood floors as we made our way to my room. “Kitsune asked me to send word along as well. She hopes ye’ve found what ye seek.”

  I frowned at him, opening the door. “I suppose I could better answer that if I really knew what that was.”

  He grinned up at me. “Aye, she said as much”

  “And Tresa?” I laid the silk bundle carefully upon my bed, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Is she still … there?”

  “Oh, aye. Kitsune has her coming and going to lay attendance as quick as she snaps her fingers.”

  “I’m surprised she’d let a viper like that so close. I wouldn’t trust her, that’s for certain.” I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

  “I canna say what Kitsune’s motivations are, but it seems to be having a bit of a benefit, so that’s something.” His snout twitched suddenly. “Odd. It smells of poison in here.”

  “Huh?”

  “‘Tis an odd scent, to be sure, ye ken. I thought I smelled it in the hallways betimes when the prince led me here. Odder still to find it in your bedroom, aye?”

  My blood ran cold as I looked at the empty bottle of wine on the mantel. I snatched at it and held it out to Jimmy. “Is it coming from this? Talivar and Brystion drank it last night.”

  “Nae. Good vintage, mind, but that’s not it.” His piggish eyes blinked nervously as he snuffled around the room. “There’s somewhat blocking the scent of it … it’s been hid verra well.” His gaze fell on my discarded gown from the night before. “There.”

  “My dress? I have a poisoned dress?” I frowned at him. “But I feel fine. Are you sure?”

  He tapped his nose. “This doesn’t lie. Somewhat’s amiss.” He dropped to his hands and knees, his knuckles bending to support his weight. It would have almost been comical except for the circumstances. “Sweat,” he grunted. “Rocks, and leaves and growing things, soup and … a unicorn … and here,” he squealed triumphantly, shaking his head so that his big ears flopped forward.

  In his hands he clutched the small bit of the cloth I’d used as a makeshift gag for the Queen. Maybe it had caught on my dress in the struggle? “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “Aye. Taint of spider poison sure enough. But it’s a strange thing. Usually poison is coated on something, ye ken … and there’s old sweat exuded upon it, but the poison smell goes deeper than that. Almost as though it was woven into the very fabric itself.” He licked his tusks curiously. “Seems like an awful amount of trouble to go to poison ye.”

  “Poison you?” Moira stood in the doorway, her face a thundercloud. I tried not flinch beneath the steely eyes as she stared at me. Obviously she’d been let in on the little powwow of what went down last night. Talivar loomed behind her, face unreadable.

  I shook my head at her, taking the scrap from Jimmy and holding it out to her. “Not me. Your mother.”

  “That’s ridiculous. The Queen’s clothing only comes from the finest of weavers. She’s the only one allowed to wear this type of silk.”

  “Then it would make it rather easy to poison her with it, wouldn’t it?” I pointed out.

  “But to weave all her dresses from it? It takes long enough merely to collect it—let alone make it something she could wear. If there were that much poison on it, the seamstresses would be affected.” She gingerly rubbed the scrap between her two fingers, delicate brow furrowing.

  Jimmy sniffed the air as
she took it. “Bristlefangs. From the northern reaches. Not an easy place to get to, but their poison glands go for a pretty penny in the Lower Crescent. The scent isn’t strong enough for it ta’ be the entire cut o’ cloth … but perhaps every few bits of it?”

  My brain seemed to have disconnected itself as the pieces started to finally snap into place, the Queen’s crazed behavior suddenly making a hell of a lot more sense. “And … um. How deadly is this poison?”

  “Well, if ye was to get bit, it’s pretty fatal … especially for you mortal types. The silk, though … I don’t know. I imagine it might be a little slower acting. It drives ye mad, ye ken?”

  My eyes met Moira’s horror-stricken face and she let out a soft gasp. “That’s why she’s been scratching at herself. Why she’s been tearing at her clothes all this time. Somehow her body knows …” Her mouth became grim. “And we’ve only been making it worse, forcing her to wear it.”

  Talivar thrust out his lower lip thoughtfully. “And if this poisoned spider silk came from the Barras? Kitsune will be implicated, you realize.”

  Jimmy backed up a few steps. “Ye canna’ mean that. I know things are a wee bit rough between us these days, but she wouldna’ stoop to poison. Not like this.”

  “Then someone wants you to think it,” I said softly. “To create more conflict, distracting us from the real issue.” I gave Moira a hard look. “Just how involved was Maurice when he was here as your TouchStone?”

  The princess crossed her arms against my question. “He had the illusion of immortality during his time with me. A chance at power should I become queen. There are those here who would not be averse to helping him in this, even under these circumstances.” Her mouth compressed. “Some feel as though my mother has retained power too long. That Faerie is starting to suffer beneath her rule. That perhaps the power structure would be different if she had not chosen … Thomas.”

  Her face became troubled and she turned to her brother, handing him the bit of cloth. “Take this to Thomas and explain to him what has happened. But be discreet.” Her eyes darted to Jimmy. “At the very least we can get my mother dressed in something other than what she has.”