by Allison Pang
Twenty-seven
Still clutching at the shredded top of my dress, I limped up the stairs and found the spare key I normally hid above the lintel. It was Glamoured, of course—not that it really mattered anyway.
“Buck up, Abby,” I scolded myself, ignoring the twinge of panic in my chest. “Faint heart never won fair lady.”
Swallowing hard, I slipped through the kitchen, wondering at the dust built up along the top of the half wall. First order of business was getting my own damn clothes. If I never saw another chemise it would be too soon. Inside, my mind raced with a hysteric sort of panic even as I attempted to disconnect from it, a false calm moving my limbs toward the bathroom.
Part of me wanted to rush right back into the thick of it, hoping beyond hope that somehow I’d be able to rescue my friends, to undo what we’d fucked up so badly. But what good would that do? I’d probably end up being captured with nothing to show for it.
I would have to go to the Queen and admit what we’d done. My fault for insisting we go to the Barras. My fault for insisting we find Tresa’s son.
My fault Talivar had been forced to fire upon the daemons.
My fault.
I would get clean. I would get dressed. I would figure out how to save everyone.
And then I would come home and sleep for a month.
I finger combed my hair quickly, ignoring the wet drips on my clothes. My cell phone had been dead when I checked it, so I’d left it charging while I was in the shower. I threw on my favorite pair of jeans and a black tank top. Underwear had never felt so good—and if it was only a mental sort of armor, I’d take it.
I flipped open the phone, blinking as it loaded up. First thing would be to give Charlie a call and check on Benjamin … and then, Katy … and Roweena … and then …
“Holy fuck,” I breathed, looking at the date on my cell. Three months.
Three. Goddamn. Months.
Careless of me to have traveled the CrossRoads so lightly … to have stayed in Faerie. I’d known that time could go hinky in the other realms like that, but I hadn’t quite realized it would be so … specific. At least Moira had paid up all the utilities. Someone else had apparently gotten my mail.
My hands trembled as I dialed Charlie’s number. I let out a relieved sigh when she picked up. “Charlie, it’s Abby. I’m … home.”
“Abby?” Charlie let out a squawk of surprise. “It’s nearly midnight. Where the hell have you all been? Is Melanie with you?”
“It’s complicated,” I muttered, wondering how the hell I was going to explain it all, not to mention that I felt like a complete piece of shit for leaving my best friend behind. My fists clenched as I realized the daemons would take her as well. Nobu’s bargain …
My fault.
I grimaced at the phone. “How’s Benjamin? He doing okay?”
She paused. “Yes … but there have been a few changes. I think maybe you should come over here.”
“Actually, do you know where Roweena is? We’ve got a shitstorm of massive proportions brewing and I don’t think we have time to visit right now.” Plus, I only wanted to have to explain this once.
“She’s at the Judgment Hall. Robert is there too. It’s bad, Abby. A number of the OtherFolk have started fading. They’ve been burying them beneath the Church.”
I went cold at her words. Of course. The Door had shut when I was carried through on the deer the first time. Lack of concentration and physical distance must have done the whole thing in. I drew in a shuddering breath.
“All right. Then it’s a bigger clusterfuck than I thought. I’m going to head down there as soon as I can. I’ve got a few things I need to do and then I’ll be there. Bring Benjamin … and call Katy and Brandon too. They should at least be aware, I think.”
She made a muffled affirmation, but I couldn’t tell her mood by the inflection. It would have to be good enough.
My eyes fell on the small lock of red-gold hair I’d placed on the counter as I hung up the phone. The boy’s hair.
I stroked it absently, wishing there was some way I could have saved him … but there was no telling how long he’d been there. No way of knowing if he’d be able to be saved even if I had found him sooner. He was so much smaller than the Queen, and if he’d been exposed to the poison longer, there hadn’t been much chance of saving him at all.
Tresa probably wouldn’t tell us anything now, and with Talivar and Brystion captured or quite possibly dead and her son gone, she would have no reason to. I rubbed my thumb over the silken strands. Still.
If the hair could be analyzed in some fashion …
Visions of taking it to a lab, CSI-style, filled my mind but I quickly dismissed the idea. Even if I could find a lab open at midnight that would do such a thing, there was no possibility of getting a result anytime soon. Besides, explanations of how he’d been poisoned by some type of spider that didn’t exist on the mortal plane? No, thanks.
Which left me with magical means. Kitsune said she needed access to a body, but maybe the hair would be good enough.
I was going to need currency, however. Nobody in the Faerie world did jack shit for free and if they offered to, there was undoubtedly a secret price involved. I didn’t have time for a mystical geas right now, so the easy way out would be a trade of some sort. And somehow I didn’t think waving Talivar’s ring around was going to do me any favors with the fox-woman at this point.
Not that I had anything worth trading in my apartment. The Marketplace, however …
Socks. Shoes. Jacket. I threw on whatever was closest and snatched my spare backpack. In my hurry to leave, I stumbled against the coffee table in front of the TV, scattering a pile of old magazines and Dear Abby letters.
“Sorry. Got my own problems.”
I didn’t look back when I shut the door and replaced the key above the lintel. My hands skimmed down the rail. Despite my shower, I was sweating, but it was now July, so that was not surprising. The crickets seemed deafening in their cheerfulness. I stood in front of the brick side where the Midnight Marketplace usually opened. For all I knew, it wouldn’t open at all, given that I’d neglected it for so long.
Tapping out the pattern, I thrust my hands into my pockets, sighing with relief when an arc of silver light streaked over the bricks in its usual vine pattern, though much slower than usual. Even KeyStones faded, given enough time. Shoving the Door open as soon as it appeared, I blinked as the witchlights burst to life, their pastel hues giving the shop a familiar semblance. Hurry, hurry, hurry …
My shoes squeaked against the hardwood as I dashed to the rear of the store where the forbidden and rare objects were kept. I didn’t even know what half of them did, but they were freaking expensive and that was good enough for me. Crystals, spell components, mechanical devices, and enchantments. I shoved them into my backpack without hesitation. I suppose I should have felt a bit guilty for ransacking my place of employment, but I didn’t have time for that sort of emotion.
Moira could bill me.
I bolted outside and tapped out the pattern on the wall, waiting only long enough to see that the Door faded again. I hedged a moment as to what to do next, the sudden weight of where I had to go paralyzing me. I glanced at my watch, the time drifting away from me, and then shook my head. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to do anything about it anyway. I held the Key in my hands, willing it to activate as I approached the garden gate. One step at a time and all that.
The Key’s blue glow bathed my hands in the darkness, giving everything an eerie semblance. Closing my eyes, I willed the Door to open, the familiar river of power sluicing over me once again. I let my consciousness skim over to where I wanted to go, imagining the bamboo frame located beside the Barras. The Door lit up, silver and soft. Sucking in a deep breath, I punched through the veil for the fifth time that day and stepped through.
The Barras was strangely hushed when I emerged. Only a few of the denizens made their way along the muddied paths
cutting through the earth, but I didn’t pay much attention to them. No time for sightseeing this time around, regardless of the oddness of my dress. At least I had a vague idea of where I was going.
If the magical contraband in my bag wasn’t enough to sway Kitsune, probably nothing would be. I found the fox-woman’s tent easily enough, scratching at the canvas with an apologetic tap. Of Tresa there was no sign, but a pile of red thread fluttered from a post in the front. I doubted that was anything good.
“Come in,” Kitsune murmured.
“Forgive me.” I ducked into the tent and knelt on the other side of the table, the backpack sliding to my side. Unwrapping the hair from my pocket, I placed it in front of her. “I’ve come to make a bargain.”
Her golden eyes stared at me for a moment, red ears swiveling forward, and then she sniffed at the hair, her mouth wrinkling in dismay. “You’ve brought war to my doorstep, Absinthe.”
“We had no choice. Where is Tresa?”
“Paying the price for her treachery.” Her teeth snapped shut with an audible click. “Funny thing, destiny. Fight it hard enough and it will choke the life out of you.”
“So she’s dead?”
Kitusne waved me off. “Yes. What is done is done. What bargain would you make? I’ve already committed my forces to your cause, thought it was not enough. It will not take the daemons long to turn their eye to me. A cure for the Queen would not be welcomed nor appreciated from either side.” She twirled a piece of red thread between her smooth fingers. “Some things cannot be undone.”
I shrugged and placed my iPod on the table before her. “It’s enchanted. Last year, I accidentally managed to magic it up so that it never needs charging. It updates itself with new technology changes. It knows what I want to hear. And it has every song ever made.” I hit the play button, showing her the number of the song listed as “1 of ∞.”
She eyed it curiously. “How is this possible? Technology and magic rarely blend together so seamlessly.”
“I don’t know.” I unzipped my backpack, pouring the contents onto the floor at her feet, careful to avoid the soft puff of her tail. “But I’ve brought you some of the things I used to do it. I don’t have any money to give you, but I imagine you could sell it. Or possibly weaponize it.” I hated to make the suggestion. Phineas had said firearms didn’t work on the CrossRoads but my iPod did. If Kitsune could figure out a way to do the same for her people, the Unseelie Court would be on equal footing.
At the very least, they’d be a force to be reckoned with.
Judging by the sly gleam of her eyes, Kitsune grasped the implications immediately. I pulled off Talivar’s ring, placing it beside the hair. “If you wish the Crippled Prince to survive, she must be healed.” I was half bluffing, since I really had no way of knowing if that was true, but I did know Talivar was the only thing really standing between the Queen and the Lesser Fae. If he was gone and the daemons took over, it was a pretty good guess that the Barras wouldn’t stand for long.
Something of this must have shown in my face because the fox-woman nodded her head once. “There is a way. I can brew a tea. It will bind the poisons and bring on extreme sweats.” Her nostrils flared in warning. “But it may kill her.”
“That’s a chance I’ll have to take,” I said finally, mulling it over. “I have no other choice. How long will it take?”
She hesitated, her tail twitching. “Three days to steep.”
“I don’t have that kind of time.”
“Healing potions cannot be rushed if you want them to work,” she said mildly, giving me an expectant look. “This trade is acceptable. I will await your return in three days for delivery of the potion.”
“I won’t be here.” I slid the ring closer to her. “Use this to get into Faerie. I’ll tell the princess you are coming and what you bear.”
She eyed me serenely, but the satisfied glint in her eye told me the rest of this was merely haggling. “A great risk for me to do so.”
“One you can afford now.” I nudged the pile of enchantments. “Your word?” I insisted.
Another pause and then she nodded. “The word of a fox-woman, for all that it is worth to you.”
“Good enough.” I got to my feet, the mostly empty backpack on one shoulder. I didn’t thank her—after all, she’d been paid for her time, but I did nod politely. “Later,” I said lamely, sliding out of the tent when she waved me off.
My stomach cramped with strained nervousness. I hoped to hell she came through, but this would be the best I could hope for.
I emerged from a Door made of obsidian and ice, lightning crackling down one side. Tiles of elegant ebony marble stretched out as far as my eyes could see, flanked by walls of dark thorns. Violet flowers twisted between them, crimson flecks pulsing upon each petal. Directly in front of me was a balcony overlooking a crystalline river of silver. A cloaked figure stood before it.
Nobu turned as I approached, a sardonic twist to his mouth. “I’d say I was surprised to see you, but I’m not. Though I don’t recall asking for a bed warmer this evening.”
I flushed. The daemon’s peacock colors were gone now, leaving him with only his own dark tresses spilling down to his waist. He wore an emerald silk robe, belted loosely around his hips so that the shadowed planes of his chest showed clearly beneath.
My tongue scraped against the arid desert of my mouth. “I thought I would come out closer to your tent in the camp. Not … wherever this place is.”
“Perhaps this is my tent. Hell keeps its own secrets, you know.” He gave me a humorless smile. “Would that you’d taken my warning to heart, Keeper. I have no real wish to do what I must.”
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you here,” I said, the words rushing out before I lost my nerve. “I wish to make a bargain.”
He nodded, slanted eyes crinkling in cold amusement. “Yes. I rather thought you might.”
The Judgment Hall was mostly quiet, though I could hear Benjamin’s babble echoing from the receiving chamber. A smile touched my lips. At least that much hadn’t changed. I hesitated as I heard the others talking.
Coward, my inner voice hissed as I rolled the envelope I held between sweaty fingers. I didn’t deny it, merely peeked around the corner, my body flat against the wall. I stifled a gasp when I saw Benjamin shrieking with delight, making an ungainly swoop toward his father. Three months had turned the boy into a full-on toddler. With wings that far outweighed his maturity, it seemed.
Hurtling toward Robert, he giggled madly when the angel caught him, a smile of paternal pride upon his lips. Nearby, Charlie gazed upon them both with affection.
Could I interrupt that?
My resolve wavered. I’d had every intention of going in there and explaining the situation in more detail, of insisting that Benjamin come back with me to be in Faerie with his mother. But a war was no place for a baby and if I didn’t succeed, that’s exactly what it would become.
No, I decided. This was not my call to make. Sliding the envelope across the floor, I retreated swiftly. I’d outlined everything that had happened—the Queen’s illness, the daemon army, Tresa’s plot, Talivar’s capture, my bargain with Kitsune. The facts hung there hard and irrefutable and silent.
I did not mention Nobu.
I heard the scuff of Robert’s shoes as he came closer toward the envelope with a wary grace. He picked it up and frowned at the Door.
“Abby?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, meeting his eyes for one brilliant second before I plunged through the Door for the last time …
… and out of the one in the Queen’s throne room. Stumbling into the midst of complete chaos, in fact. Daemons and elven courtiers flanked the walls, bristling tension and fear. I heard a gasp as I got to my feet, even as the Steward rounded on me to snatch at my shoulder.
“You!” he roared, yanking me up. “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done? Of what we’re about to have to do?”
“Well, I might if you’
d let me go.” I pulled away, the silence crackling in my ears as he released me. My eyes darted past the blur of daemons, seeking only those I cared about.
The Queen perched upon her seat, her eyes bored as she scratched absently at her arms. Moira stood beside her with a face so pale and still she could’ve been a sculpture. Melanie and Phin were off to the side, I noted with relief. My gaze met Melanie’s, confusion and alarm echoed within.
Of Talivar and Ion there was no sign, and my heart sank. On the other hand…
Maurice sat in the petitioner’s chair, flanked by two daemons I didn’t recognize. I arched a brow at him, my fingers curling so that my nails cut into my palms. A-S-S-H-O-L-E. The word spelled out in tandem with each trembling step I took. My inner voice crowed in agreement, giving him the virtual finger.
“Where is Talivar?” I asked aloud, aiming my question at the daemons. The Queen looked at me briefly, a flicker of acknowledgment passing through her eyes. I supposed I should take it as a good sign she didn’t clap me in irons the moment I appeared for attacking her the night before.
“We have him.” Nobu strode through the main doors of the throne room, his hair sliced through with shades of pink and blue that matched my bangs.
Nothing like being blatantly obvious, though I had to admit the effect was damned nice.
Maurice’s smirk faded. The winged daemon inclined his head politely toward me, a sly wink gracing his features. “In fact, we were just discussing the terms of his ransom.”
“Brystion?”
“Here.” Ion’s dark voice rippled around me with a silent fury. I flinched as the incubus rose up from a cluster of daemons, his antlers tied tight so that his head was forced back, hog-tied to his hands behind him. Two more arrows sprouted from his left leg, and his tail lashed like a snake.
I bit down hard on my lip. “I want to see Talivar too.”
Nobu gestured with a careless wave and the ranks of the daemons changed again, revealing the Crippled Prince. He’d been stripped of his shirt and his eye patch, the scars open to view. Dried blood rusted over his shoulders. I could only hope it wasn’t all his.
