“Was the man human?”
“I think so.”
“Well, that explains a lot.”
Silence. Albeit the kind full of the snap of twigs and rustle of bushes. The caw of crows. The chattering of squirrels. The nervous snort of the unicorn. “Like what?”
“Like you being so…” he ducked under a low-hanging branch, “set on hating humans.”
“I didn’t always hate humans.”
“Well, you sure seem to like doing it for someone who hasn’t been doing it long.” He was matter-of-fact about it, rather than bitter, like she’d expected. A thought occurred to her.
“Do you think I put you down because you’re human?”
“Why else would you do it? You’ve made it clear to me how terrible you think we are.”
“But you’re not human.” The unicorn paused to nibble on a bush. Adren nudged it back on course.
“Yes, I am.”
“Nadin, seriously. You’re part fairy. How else could you get through that barrier?”
He scowled. “I guess it’s obvious now. Yeah, I’ve got fairy magic and blood, but I’m not really a fairy. Not like you are, being raised by them. Really, you’re more a fairy than I’ve ever been.”
Adren hadn’t thought about it that way. If Nadin was more human than fairy, though, shouldn’t it have shown? Like a dog raised by cats. People only make decisions they know how to make, that they know they can make. “Isn’t your mother part fairy?”
“No. She’s completely human.”
They also make the decisions they want to make. But where does that desire come from? Is it innate? Or was there something else involved, something Adren couldn’t see?
She walked next to the unicorn, hand on its shoulder both for the reassurance of its presence and to keep it at ease so it would stay with her. The two of them had run from the man with the sword. Was that man the same as the one by the fire? Because, if he was, he had betrayed her trust, possibly beyond repair. But if he wasn’t, then who was he? She had another memory of the one by the fire crying—he wore the same black clothes in that one—but she didn’t know when that had happened. It might have been before. It didn’t make sense for it to have been anything but before. The question was how long before and, if he was the same man as the one with the sword, did that mean the two memories connected? Adren had the uncanny feeling they were.
Nadin saw the barrier a long way off. It really was massive, encircling a portion of the forest almost the size of the aboveground area of the mound. When he stood in front of it again, it dwarfed him with ease as it rose in a delicate curve above the forest.
“Can’t we just walk through it together?” he asked Adren. “Our barrier doesn’t let in fairy magic.”
“And the fairy barrier will push back to keep the magic we’re using out.”
“Why? If it’s only keeping people out…”
“With Denyeh making barriers of her own in the town? It’d be silly of them not to protect against magic. Watch.” Adren walked to the barrier. The moment the surface of hers met it, there was a spark and Adren couldn’t go any farther. She strained against it, but her barrier couldn’t break through the fairies’ one. If it were possible to say ‘I told you so’ by walking, she did it as she stepped back and indicated the fairy barrier.
With a slow inhale, Nadin squared his shoulders, and left their barrier to walk through the other.
Which resulted in him banging his nose against it far harder than could possibly be comfortable. Adren laughed as he danced around, hands on his face.
“It’s like walking into a door!” he complained, making Adren laugh even harder. “I didn’t even feel it the last time! Aw, Adren, I think I’m bleeding.”
Still chuckling, Adren told him to squat so she could get a cloth out of her pack. While she did, the unicorn nickered, nose pointed at Nadin.
“Let it see the blood,” Adren said. Nadin removed his hands. The flow was slow for a nosebleed, but there was enough on his upper lip to threaten drippage. With another nicker, the unicorn touched its horn to Nadin’s nose. Its healing magic emanated from the horn like threads, entering Nadin’s skin with infinite gentleness. Nadin watched in awe, utterly still from that moment until the unicorn drew its horn away with a snort of satisfaction. As it did, Adren handed Nadin the cloth, which he used to clean up.
“I will never get used to that,” he said.
“I wish I could see it,” Adren replied. “Sorry for laughing. I never expected watching someone walk into an invisible wall would look so funny.”
“It probably was pretty hilarious, I’ll admit.” Nadin stood, returned the cloth. “Time to try again.”
“You can’t be serious.” Adren gestured at him to squat again, raising the cloth and giving it a shake. Red in his cheeks, he did, and she wrapped the cloth up carefully before returning it to the pack.
“I could go through it before, I swear!”
“Of course you could. I’m not questioning that. But it looks like a fairy followed you when you came here last time and they fixed the enchantment so it wouldn’t happen again.” She drew back from the barrier. Her eyes were sad, but only for as long as she faced the direction neither of them could go. “I’d hoped we’d be able to find out whatever it is the unicorn keeps running to.”
“Maybe we could find a way in?”
“No, better not. If they’re expecting that we might come by again, then there’s no telling what other guards they have in place. And it’ll be harder to bargain with them after we’ve trespassed on this place they’re obviously putting a lot of effort into keeping safe from outsiders.”
“You’re going to give up?” Although Adren had started off, Nadin’s feet remained planted.
She sighed, stopping well before she was too far for her barrier to protect him. “Today wasn’t the first time the unicorn’s gone to something that way and met opposition. There will be other chances.”
“What if this is the only place like this?”
“If I’m curious enough, I’ll come back and find a way in. But, as I said: we need to be able to make a deal with the fairies. I’m not going to antagonize them with this. That would be stupid. And we’re going to be smart.” She grinned.
This time as they entered the fairy throne room, they had guards. They wouldn’t have called themselves that—when Adren, Nadin, and the unicorn arrived, the three fairies had insisted on ‘escorting’ them to the monarchs. Along with that insistence, they had ordered Adren to remove the barrier, as they were not allowed inside the mound. A bid for power, Adren recognized, and one she wasn’t about to concede to.
“Nonsense,” she said. “The barrier stays.”
“We shall not allow you to enter with it.”
Adren raised an eyebrow. “Then you shall have to inform your monarchs that you could have brought the Demonic Vessel to them, but you refused because of a point of conduct.”
“They determined this conduct.”
“Well. We’ll have to wait until the monarchs change their minds. Or carry off the Demonic Vessel with us. What think you, Nadin?”
He blinked. Helpful.
Even without his input, the guards’ resistance didn’t last long, and Adren caught a flash of disapproval on the faces of the monarchs as the doors to the throne room opened. They should have known Adren wouldn’t leave herself exposed like that, even if she did have a part-fairy to accompany her.
“We hear you wish to make a deal with us,” intoned the queen. She and the king sat on their thrones, but Iraem’s was empty.
“I have considered one, yes.”
On the way from the barrier, Adren had told Nadin about Denyeh’s husband. The fairies weren’t likely to give him up willingly but, from what she knew of the fairies, she had the feeling Denyeh’s husband wouldn’t be far from the monarchs. She had instructed Nadin to pay attention to everyone they passed by, and everyone in the throne room. If any lacked magic and had a spell on them instead,
he would clear his throat and, when she tapped her leg, point one of his feet in the direction of the one in question. Adren had the feeling the fairies had put enough of an illusion on Denyeh’s husband that none of the humans would recognize him, Denyeh especially. Why else would Denyeh have been out in the market when the fairies invaded if not to try to find her husband? How else could all the fairies have attacked the prison without any of the guards identifying their old captain?
She had also, in an attempt to avoid something like what he’d done to indicate that there weren’t any fairies following both of them in town, made him practise over and over until she was certain he wouldn’t make a fool of them both.
The whole way to the throne room, Nadin didn’t signal. He didn’t even signal by accident. But once they stood before the dais of the throne room, he did.
“Is this unicorn part of your deal?” asked the king. He disguised it well, but Adren couldn’t help but notice the pause he made before the word ‘unicorn.’
“No.” Adren tapped her leg, and Nadin pointed to the left.
“Then why have you brought it?”
“Because it is my servant demon and I require its presence.” A quick glance showed a number of fairies in that direction, including the one Adren suspected was not what he seemed. It also showed Nadin appearing sick. Not enough to be concerned about, but enough to notice. No matter. It would pass. Denyeh’s husband located, Adren could now begin her real work.
The king snorted. “A demon? Only the ignorant believe in such things.”
“And only fools disbelieve what they may see with their own eyes.”
Under any other circumstances, Adren’s words would have been treated as the height of disrespect but, though Nadin couldn’t find a thing, Adren knew all the fairies saw what Iraem and Loram had. Even if no one believed the unicorn to be a demon, their imaginations could provide them with all sorts of unpleasant details. The monarchs exchanged a look, their discomfort clear.
“You may think yourselves superior to me, but I have abilities you cannot see. In all you have done to me, in all my time here, I have never once engaged with the fullness of what I have. And yet, here I am before you, with the very thing you covet the most in my possession, and the very thing you fear most under my power. You think because you sit on thrones that you are more than I. I say you have much to learn.” All technically true, but the monarchs didn’t need to know in what way.
“What is it you would teach us?” asked the queen as she leaned over to put hand to chin. Evaluating Adren, was she? Well. Adren intended to make an evaluation of her own.
“Tell me,” Adren said. “What would you do to the humans with the magic of the Demonic Vessel, should I give it to you?”
The queen laughed. “Does the White Changeling care what happens to them?”
“You know that answer already.”
“We intend to continue our games with them,” said the queen with a wave of her hand. “They think their barriers strong, and strong they may be, but we shall tear those down and deal them the consequences of breaking the rules. A story among them says a saint gave them power, but any ability they have beyond that of ordinary humans came from fae and human intermingling in ages past. We regret this and see now that it has made them arrogant. Magic is not good for humans. It twists their minds, makes them unmanageable. We shall find the remnants of our mistake and we shall solve this problem we created. After all, if one dislikes the consequences of one’s actions, one must learn from them and take the appropriate steps.”
Oh, gods. Gods, gods, gods.
Adren’s heart sunk more and more to her gut with each word the queen said and the obvious delight with which she said it. Of all the options she had for the wooden hand, she’d leaned most to giving it back to the fairies. But it was as Denyeh had said. The animosity ran too deep.
Except the fairies had gone beyond animosity. They saw the situation as entertainment, cruelty as entertainment. Their reason for what they did had nothing to do with justice or seeking the good of another. Their actions had no higher purpose than laughter.
And so, while the queen talked, Adren let out some of her magic, hoping it wouldn’t be noticed so close to the magic in the hand. She sent it to burn the wood. Not entirely—she didn’t want to risk that—but in a line along the grain, and under her own hand so no smoke could escape. The one thing that worried her in all this was the magic in the hand. If she harmed its container, what would it do? Her memory of when it washed over her softened that concern. After all, it had listened and pulled away when she didn’t want it to touch the dark place in her mind. So, as that line burned, she willed that the magic beneath it would leave to where it had come from, and that it would never again let the fairies access it. As soon as she could feel the wood on either side of the line shift, she stopped the magic, hoping it would be enough.
“As you attempted to place judgement on me, so I place it on you,” Adren said when the queen finished, lifting the wooden hand at such an angle that none of the fairies could see the charred part. She spoke with care and kept her tone low. The queen drew back. The king seemed as if he’d received either a compliment or an insult, but couldn’t tell which. “And I judge you unfit.” With that, Adren broke the hand into two pieces.
Chapter Fourteen
The magic escaped the hand the moment Adren broke it. It spread out and up like a tree of living glass before streaming away, its presence emptying from the throne room. All the fairies drew back, as did Nadin, but while their attention stayed on the magic, his went to Adren. Her hands shook. Enough that he could see, but no one farther than him. And it lingered even after she lowered them.
It took the monarchs a moment to process what had happened. They stared at the pieces of the hand, openmouthed. The queen understood first and rose, her movement harsh.
“Do you perceive what you have done?”
“I have taken from you that which you would have used for naught but the cause of suffering,” said Adren. “An I have done wrong in this, then I shall take what I am given. But it shall not be from you.”
A sly smile touched the queen’s lips. “Ah, and what of the humans? We are not wholly without power and they…” Her smile grew. “They have nothing such as we do.”
“They have an army interested in the fate of the Saint’s Gauntlet, as well as barriers such as the one we have. All they need do is send a protected messenger to the nearest towns to gather a greater force, both in numbers and in magic, capable of victory over you, no matter your power. They shall do this when I have told them you conspire with Breim, that I brought the Saint’s Gauntlet here only for it to be destroyed, and that you have made plans to end the lives of humans.” Adren said all of this carelessly, as if unaware of the steel her words contained.
“You would lie to them to cause us suffering?” At this statement from the queen, Adren gave an almost imperceptible pause. If you didn’t know her, you would not have given it much thought. If you did, you would see it, and you might even notice the tension in her fingers as they curled. Nadin held his breath during that pause, only exhaling when Adren’s hands relaxed and her back straightened by a hair’s breadth.
“I would tell them the truth so that they may protect themselves from your selfishness. How they interpret the truth is not my business. As I recall, you used the same strategy with me.”
“So that is your deal,” said the king, sitting back in his throne. “Leave the humans unharmed and remain unharmed ourselves.
Adren raised a finger. “Close. The deal is this: any harm you inflict from this point on the humans in that town—no matter if they belong there—shall turn itself back on you in equal intensity. Accept those terms, and I shall give you the chance to regain the pieces of the Demonic Vessel, to do with them whatever you wish. Do not accept these terms, and the humans will destroy you for all your past harm against them and to protect themselves from all harm in the future.”
“What choice
have we? We accept. What is this chance you wish to give us?”
Here, Adren made a wide gesture. “I invite any and all in this room to break this barrier. Should you prove successful, you may take the pieces and none of us will stop you.” She placed a hand on the unicorn’s shoulder. It shivered under her touch, but didn’t move.
With a nod from the king, the fairies sent their magic at the barrier. It throbbed with their onslaught, pulsing in brilliant colours with each attack. Not one drop of magic made it through. After a while, there was a lull, during which it became clear that one fairy had hung back behind the others and had failed to contribute to their effort.
As Adren had thought, Denyeh’s husband wouldn’t join in the attack. He didn’t have magic. Possibly, the fairies could have sent him to retrieve the pieces of the hand, but the barrier wouldn’t allow any spells they’d placed on him to come through. Even if he managed to enter the barrier, he would be free of Iraem’s influence. And, Iraem being the princess, Adren doubted the other fairies would let her plaything be freed. That is, not unless she’d given them great enough cause. So it had worked, and she had found him.
The best part of all this was that Adren had been right about which one he was.
“Barsae! Why won’t you come and take them? Prove your worth to your monarchs.”
“She toys with you, Barsae,” said Iraem, who had now entered the throne room. She went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“You know, Iraem, I heard from Loram that you purposefully discredited her. That you are the reason she was taken by the humans and the Demonic Vessel was lost.”
“That is a lie.” One would think that kind of statement would be believed by its speaker, but no sweetness flowered on Adren’s tongue. She hadn’t expected it to.
“If it is, then why have you offered her no opportunity to regain her pride? Had it been your idea to leave her out of the attack on the prison? And what about leaving her to watch the children, despite a number of near-adult fairies who didn’t need her help, while everyone else searched the town for the hand she lost? Shall you do the same to Barsae, should he rise too high for your liking?”
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