by Sumida, Amy
“How long was I under there?” I finally pushed the screaming in my head aside long enough to ask.
“Two days,” he said grimly.
“Two days?” I frowned. “What about...” I felt my face heat. “Didn't I come out to use the bathroom?”
“Da,” he nodded, “you vould crawl out and go right back under zere.”
“Oh,” I sighed and let go of his hand. “I think I need some time to myself, Kirill.”
“Tima, you have all time in vorld. You take vat you need.”
“I need,” a choked sob broke out of my throat. “I need to be alone. Will you watch over Nick?”
“Of course but vere vill you go?”
“To Hell, I think,” I tried out a small smile. “I hear it's lovely this time of year.”
Chapter Sixty-One
Hell was lovely.
I guess technically, it was the Underworld or even Hades but I thought it silly to call a place by the name of the man who ruled it. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was beautiful. At least Hades' home in Hell was. I didn't venture out beyond his walls, just sat in his gardens a lot, looking at the unusual birds, talking to Peter the Pegasus, and sketching the huge flowers.
Hades and Persephone were the perfect hosts. They gave me a pretty room, fed me, and let me have my space. No questions, no lingering looks, just peace. I knew they'd be the only ones who could give me that. They both understood pain and betrayal. They'd both struggled to be with the one they loved. They could be supportive without getting in my face about it, hovering, or doing any of the other things people feel they need to do when someone they love is broken.
Hades wasn't around that often anyway. He had a whole new Heaven to sort out and he was usually gone, leaving Sephy in charge of Hell. She was thrilled. She toned it down when she was around me but I could tell. I think it was the first time anyone had given her such a big responsibility and she was taking to it like Cerberus to a human thigh bone. She carried a day planner around and was constantly writing lists and checking things off of them. So basically, she was too busy to hover. It was a perfect situation for me.
I sighed and opened the leather-bound book in my lap. Isleen stared up from the page, just the tips of her fangs showing in her knowing smile. Was she the one comforting my husband? Did she hold him now, take his blood? Love him as completely as she loved her other men? My teeth clenched and I had to breathe deep and force calm through my bones. Isleen may be just what he needed. I should hope that he finds another, since I had no intention of fulfilling any of his needs.
Why did that thought hurt so much? I flipped the page to the drawing of Arach. The angle of his head, the tilt to his eyes, they were so familiar to me now. I ran a finger over the scales at his temples. They were always so beautiful in the sun, like ruby cabochons embedded in his skin. That smile, it was my smile, the one he only showed to me. Soft, no harsh edges to it, his lips a little pursed, like he was thinking of kissing me. I bit back a sob and turned the page. Isn't that what you did when you wanted to end a chapter in your life, turn the page?
It didn't end though. On this new page, a goblin girl admired herself, smiling at her reflection in a shield, and it broke my heart all over again. I'd probably never see Breck again. Or Fearghal. Or Isleen. No more phookas or fire-sidhe. No vampire faeries or rhyming goblins. No Hidden Ones. An entire House of Faerie was lost to me forever because a dragon had stolen my memory and then my heart.
“A Thaisce,” his voice was a whisper in my mind. An endless breath of fire through my veins.
I screamed in frustration, throwing the book into the bushes.
“Yow,” a male voice with a touch of feline.
“Who's there?” I stood up and glared at the offending foliage.
“It's just me,” Roarke walked out of the shadow of a tree, rubbing his head and carrying my book. “Hey, why aren't I in here?” He flipped a page.
“You weren't around after I got it.”
“I'm here now,” he offered me back the book. “I'll sit still.”
“Fine, sit,” I sat back down on the stone bench and gestured to the ground in front of me.
“What, just on the grass?”
“Yeah, the grass here won't actually stab you for sitting on it.”
“Oh, how novel,” he rolled his eyes and reclined in front of me. “Huh, it is rather comfortable.”
“You're moving.”
“Just my lips,” he frowned.
“When your lips move, everything else follows suit.”
“Right, sitting still now.”
The silence lasted for about five minutes. I finished a basic outline and the concentration it was taking to put the rest of the details in was making me momentarily forget about my fucked up life. Then that damn cat had to go and flap his jaws.
“He misses you.”
The stylus jerked, giving Roarke a jowly look. “Which he would that be?” I tried to focus on Roarke's jawline but got distracted by his raised brow. “And stop changing your expression.”
“Well, I imagine they all do but the he I'm referring to would be the one I just saw setting fire to the rushes in his prison cell.”
“Excuse me?” I dropped the silver stylus entirely. “Why is Arach in prison?”
“Ah, so you do still care,” he smirked.
“I can't just turn off my emotions,” I huffed, “and why do you care that I care? You're the one who helped rescue me. I thought you'd be on bad terms with Arach.”
“You need to understand the fey to understand why there is no harsh feelings between us.” He narrowed his eyes on me. “You may have spent enough time in Faerie to grasp it. What the hell, I'll give it a try.”
“Oh, thanks for the overwhelming vote of confidence.”
“Anytime,” he waved airily. “Arach did what any fey would have done when faced with something they wanted badly and could not have, he used trickery. It's a tradition with us and as much as I did not approve of it in this particular instance, I could not say for certain that I would have handled things differently.”
“So you would have stolen my memories and raped me too?”
“Ah, now there's the humanity,” he shook his head. “He used faerie tricks to get you where he wanted you and then used charm to get you in his bed but do you really believe he raped you? Look into that heart which still saves a few beats for him, and ask it why?”
“Ask myself why I still love him?” I snorted. “Because I'm an idiot.”
“Obviously but I've never held that against you and you shouldn't hold it against your heart,” he smoothed his eyebrow with a very precise stroke of his finger. “You may have lost your memories, idiot girl, but you were still you and it was you who fell in love with him.”
“You just said he used charm to get me into bed,” I ground out. “How is that not a trick too?”
“Oh please,” he rolled his eyes. “What man doesn't use charm to bed a woman? Just because he was being charming, doesn't mean you weren't seeing the true man. You know you saw him true, you tasted his blood, and he knew it too. In that at least, he never thought he was tricking you. He believed he was being as honest as any fey can be. Think about how he suppressed your dragon for you. He knew you didn't want to become fully dragon-sidhe because of your other magics and even though it would have been easier and much more beneficial for him to just let you change completely, he didn't. He respected your wishes.”
“He kept me from those that love and need me,” I growled. “Trevor could have died.”
“Have you learned nothing from living in Faerie?” He looked so disappointed. “I thought maybe you saw the true side of the fey,” he gestured to my book. “Those drawings show things a human could never see and yet they're tempered with a human perspective. Maybe you should try to view this situation in the same way.”
“What do you want from me, Roarke?” I closed my book and set it aside. “I've been trying to piece my life and mind back together becaus
e that man has nearly torn both of them apart. Now you sit there asking me to take a new perspective?”
“Maybe,” he sat forward with a sober look, “if you could understand and accept what he did, you might find it easier to move on from it.”
“I know he was desperate,” I whispered. “I understand how important the chance of having a dragon-sidhe child was to him. I can see the bigger picture, I'm not that self-absorbed, but I was and am unwilling to sacrifice the life I made, for his wants, and he took that choice from me.”
“Yes, he did,” Roarke said solemnly. “I'm not asking you to forgive him for that, I'm asking you to remember what you've learned about the sidhe and understand that for him, it was a viable solution to his problem. A faerie is a very practical creature. When we see what we want, we will use any means to get it. Why have the gift of magic and not use it? It's just another tool designed to help us get what we want. It's a different way of thinking and it was how he was raised to think. That in itself should help you accept what he's done but the thing that gives me pause, the thing that should really make you reconsider, is that he regrets his actions now.”
“Of course he regrets them,” I scoffed, “he wants me back.”
“Yes, he does but not for the same reasons that he wanted you in the first place.” He ran a hand through his wild hair. “He loves you and not just in the way a faerie loves. He set out to achieve a goal, to get you with child and give his race a chance at living again. Instead, he fell in love with you and you changed his fey way of thinking, of loving. He's imprisoned now because of it.”
“He's in jail because of me? Yeah, okay,” I rolled my eyes.
“Vervain,” Roarke frowned. “He went to the High King and asked him to name a new ruler for the House of Fire.”
“What?”
“King Arach stated that he cannot rule his people anymore. His beliefs are tainted with humanity and his thoughts are consumed with you. He said he had nothing to live for and could not in good conscience... he said conscience, a word few fey even know the meaning of, well he said coinsias but it means the same thing. I merely translated.”
“Roarke!”
“Alright!” He shook his hair back. “He said he couldn't in good conscience rule his kingdom anymore. King Cian refused his request, told him basically to go home, get drunk, bed a new woman, and get over it. Then King Arach told the High King to stuff it. Well the words he used were...”
“Whatever,” I threw up my hands. “So the High King threw Arach in prison? Just because he got mouthy?”
“You don't understand,” he sighed as if he was dealing with an intellect so far beneath him, it was a chore to have to dumb down his conversation. “The High King ordered King Arach home to his post and King Arach not only refused the order, he insulted the High King and his relationship with the Queen. He told King Cian that he obviously did not truly love his wife, if he thought King Arach could just drink a few pints of ale, bed a new woman, and get over you.”
“Oh,” I blinked. “Not a good idea.”
“I don't think he really cared,” Roarke tilted his head in a fast, assessing gesture. “It was kind of impressive.”
“You witnessed it?”
“Most of the court did,” Roarke grimaced, “including the Queen... she was actually the only one who laughed. I wonder about her sometimes,” he made a swirling circle with his finger at his temple.
“Holy faerie farts,” I whispered.
“Yes, precisely,” he gave a quick chuckle. “King Cian had no choice but to imprison him until King Arach came to his senses, as the High King put it.”
Calm was flowing over me, the tension I'd been carrying all week disappearing. Arach had betrayed me but was it betrayal if there was no bond between us previously? I've done underhanded things to get the results I needed. I'd snuck into the home of sleeping gods and beheaded them. All's fair in love and war. Huh, I guess that's a very fey saying.
Arach had employed underhanded techniques to get what he wanted but then we'd spent time together. He got to know me, formed a connection between us, and he'd begun to feel guilty over what he'd done. I had memories of that at least, his guilt. What did that say about a fey King? It said he cared, cared enough to question his own means to an end.
I thought about the months I'd spent with him, the things we'd shared and the way we'd both changed. Had he raped me? Maybe not. I had a flash of his face, the first time we'd made love. He'd hesitated, even back then. Did that absolve him of all fault? Absolutely not but did it help me to forgive him? Yes, it did.
Once that anger was released, everything changed. I could see things clearer and think clearer. I couldn't let Arach rot in prison. It wouldn't sit right with me. I needed to go back and see what I could do for him, not just for him but for me. It would help me move on.
“Let's go,” I picked up my book and stylus.
“What?” Roarke stood up. “Where?”
“To Wonderland, Dinah, where else?”
“To... what?”
“Just come on, cat.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
The walk from The End of the Road to the Castle of Eight was a lot longer than the flight had been. By the time we got there, I was a little grouchy and very hungry, so the offer of attending the High King at dinner was accepted with a bit of glee and a bit of frustration. I wasn't looking forward to walking the spiral but I was happy about the thought of food along the way.
When I finally reached the center, the High King gave me a pleased look and indicated that I should have a seat in a chair beside him. Roarke sat to my right. I had to go through the niceties first because the fey could get testy about that sort of thing. So it was awhile before I was able to bring up the reason for my visit.
“King Cian, I want my husband released.”
“Well that was well done,” Roarke's sarcasm was thick. “Not at all too blunt.”
“I find the frankness refreshing,” said Queen Meara.
“I find the fact that she still calls King Arach, her husband, to be refreshing,” King Cian smiled. “I was told you renounced your vows.”
“And I was told that it didn't matter,” I shrugged.
“It doesn't,” the King leaned forward. “I will release him on one condition.”
“Uh huh?”
“You get him to agree to remain King of the House of Fire.”
“Alright,” I agreed.
“Alright?” The King laughed. “It may be harder than you think.”
“Hard or not,” I shrugged, “if that's your condition, I shall meet it.”
“Why is there never a bard handy when someone utters their last words?” Roarke searched the room for a musician.
Chapter Sixty-Three
“Hello, Arach.”
He was laying on a stone bench set into the wall of his cell. It wasn't the most comfortable looking of places but it seemed clean enough. The floor was covered in a fine layer of ash, which wafted up into a cloud when he sat up abruptly.
“Vervain.”
“Yep, in the flesh. How's it hanging, lizard face?”
“If that's your way of asking how everything goes with me, I'm just dandy, enjoying my new residence. I think I'll call it Castle Royal Pain in my Ass.”
“When the hell did you get a sense of humor?” I chuckled.
“When a sassy human walked into my world and started calling me strange names,” he walked over to the bars. “What are you doing here, A Thaisce?”
“I think the better question is what are you doing here,” I looked around the cell. “I mean really? A dungeon? Was your castle not drafty enough?”
“No, it was pretty cold after you left,” his jaw clenched, elongating slightly. “I have thought of you every second of every day. Thought of words I would say to you if I had the chance, things I would do to make amends.”
“Well let's hear it then,” I stuck a hand on my hip.
“Okay,” he nodded. “Vervain, I've be
en a complete fool.”
“Good start,” I nodded. He growled. “Continue.”
“If I could take back my actions...” he stopped and cursed violently, shaking his head and gripping the bars. “No. I'm not going to say these things, they're all lies. I don't regret anything. If I hadn't done what I did, I'd never have held you. I would have never seen you smile at me with love in your eyes. I'd never have been able to share my world with you or carried you on my back as I flew. I never would have helped you through your transition or known what it was like to burn with you, inside of you. I would change nothing but the hurt you felt at the end. That I would remove if I could but I'll never regret the having of you.”
“Well, that was... honest.” I swallowed hard. “I guess I can give you some honesty back. I just spent the last week on the verge of a mental breakdown. No, that's wrong, not the verge, I broke down. I lost my damn mind, not just because of what you did to me but because of how much I miss the life you gave me. How much I miss you. You've torn apart my family, damaged relationships with people I love above all others, and you have no remorse for it. I hate you for that. But you've shown me magic, taught me power, given me control, and then lost control with me. I feel like I've lived more with you than I ever have with anyone before and the ache of that loss is something I'm afraid I can never recover from.”
“Then come back to me,” he reached out a hand through the bars and touched my cheek.
“I can't,” I automatically jerked away and he looked like I'd stabbed him. “I have men who I love more than you.”
“Vervain,” he groaned.
“I know that sounded cruel but it was a truth you needed to hear.” I sighed and stepped back, out of his reach entirely. “I will not give them up because I had a dream life with you for three months. What I will do is keep the lines of communication between us open.”
