The Exile: Book One of the Fae

by C. T. Adams

  Leu continued, his voice carefully neutral. “As Ard Reigh Brianna was the last member of court to see Viktor alive, there have been rumors and accusations spread against her, despite the fact that she was cleared of any wrongdoing.”

  A slow flush spread up Ulrich’s neck, and Nick saw his fists clench and jaw tighten. The older man’s eyes blazed, but he managed to remain silent.

  Leu continued, voice and expression both grim. “My daughter has suggested, in order to clear up any last vestiges of suspicion, that she meet with Ulrich and two witnesses for each side, in the presence of the truthstone, and give her full statement.”

  There were gasps of shock, all eyes turned to Brianna where she sat in icy calm.

  “The Diamond King has graciously brought the stone and agreed to officiate. Rather than let a cloud of suspicion continue to rest on a woman who is now officially in the line of succession, I have arranged for this meeting to take place immediately after this repast, in my private study.”

  “Your majesty.” Nick looked at the family blanket, where Eammon had risen to one knee and, with bended head, had requested permission to speak.

  “Granted.”

  “Since the accusations against the lady have been made publicly, shouldn’t she be allowed to clear her honor publicly as well?”

  Brianna made a small movement that caught Leu’s eye. Raising an eyebrow, he said, “Yes?”

  “May I answer?”

  “Feel free.” He waved a hand expansively.

  She turned to face the man on the blanket, her expression one of bland amusement. “My honor is sturdy enough to withstand a few verbal barbs, Brother.” Nick thought he saw a flash of bitter anger in her eyes for a second, but she continued in the same, honeyed tone. “But I thank you for your kind concern.”

  There was a slight cough behind Nick’s shoulder. Turning, he saw the guard covering his mouth to suppress the amusement he couldn’t quite keep from his eyes.

  “Well said, daughter.” Leu gave Brianna a brilliant smile. “Now, if this ‘discussion’ is finished, I’d like to get back to my meal.”

  “Excuse me, your majesty.” It was Rihannon who spoke up this time, and for a brief moment her features had sharpened, her eyes coming into full focus.

  “Yes?” Leu took his seat. One word, but he managed to put both warning and irritation into it. Damn, the man was good.

  “Will we be permitted to know who the witnesses shall be?”

  His eyes narrowed, but he gestured to Brianna.

  “My witnesses shall be King Leu of the Sidhe and Pug the Gargoyle.”

  Leu turned his attention to the man in the audience. “Ulrich?”

  The other man stood, giving Nick a good look at him. Most of the nobles lounging in the courtyard wore very little clothing, and what there was, was mostly flowing and soft. Ulrich was fully clad in trousers and a vest of stiff, dark brown leather. He wore a pair of weapons belts crossed bandolier-style across his massive chest. The throwing stars attached to the leather of the weapons belts gleamed in the bright sunlight.

  Controlled rage blazed from his eyes and his voice bore unmistakable malice. “For my witnesses, I choose my son, Lars, and—” he paused. Turning to Nick, he gave a bitter, vicious smile, and continued, “the human, Nick Antonelli.”

  Nick saw Brianna start to flinch, then catch herself and school her expression to neutrality. There were spots of color on her cheeks, and her eyes, like her accuser’s, were filled with anger. If Ulrich’s goal had been to upset her, he’d succeeded admirably—and his smile said he knew it.

  Shit.

  20

  BRIANNA HAI

  Leu led the small procession to the library, which was much as Brianna remembered it. It was two stories tall and the length of a human football field, with fireplaces at either end of the room and several seating areas placed around the room. Two of the walls were lined with shelves of books and several rolling ladders—the kinds common to old-fashioned human libraries and large bookstores—were scattered about. Glass cases near one of the fireplaces displayed magical artifacts and a few of the valuable gifts that had been presented to the kings and queens of the Sidhe during the past several thousand years. The west wall had a large balcony with a small fireplace and a pair of desks for studying. The portal that looked into Brianna’s apartment hung next to the larger desk.

  The entire east wall was made up of windows that looked out onto the palace rose gardens. Brianna had no doubt that her father had chosen this location for the meeting with Ulrich so that she could step through the doors for the treaty signing without risking being late and insulting the doxies.

  The Diamond King was waiting for them. He had set the covered truthstone in the middle of a circular mahogany table in the center of the first floor. Burgundy leather chairs were arranged in a ring around the table.

  The group gathered at the table: the king, Ulrich and Lars, Pug, and then Brianna and Nick. Nick’s expression was grim. Brianna doubted he was looking forward to this any more than she was. Damn Ulrich anyway.

  Ulrich and the others moved to take seats while Brianna stared at the truthstone in its shroud. Despite the fact that she had no intention of lying and therefore no reason to fear, Brianna felt a cold knot of terror and dread fill her belly. It was bad enough that she had to humiliate herself in front of her father, Ulrich, and the others, but she couldn’t imagine what Nick would think of her after this little display. It occurred to her that it shouldn’t matter to her what he thought. She barely knew the man. And God knew there were plenty of other, more serious things she should be concerned with. But still, it bothered her. She damned Ulrich again for good measure. Not that it would matter.

  The Diamond King came to stand beside her. She could only look at him directly for a moment, the light from the windows hitting his body was blinding enough to make her eyes water. His father had been a stone troll; his mother a gargoyle. His face and build reflected his father, as he stood five-foot-two and was nearly as broad as he was tall. He wore no clothing, so every heavily built inch of him sparkled and shone in the sunlight, casting rainbows and flashes of light around the room.

  One day when Brianna had been a child, she had found him in the palace gardens, half starved by his owner. She had given him a name and played with him. He’d sit in the sunlight, moving so that Brianna had to try to catch the rainbows he cast. He’d played along, even to the point of having a Leprechaun pay her a gold coin every time she caught one. But that was before he’d been given speech, before his people had selected him as their king because of his knowledge of the Sidhe court. After her mother gave him speech, he’d continued to visit them.

  There was nothing playful about him today. His expression was grim, his heavy jaw with its six-inch tusks set with disapproval. It was obvious that he didn’t want her to do this, that he worried about her safety. She wasn’t surprised. The truth can be a dangerous thing at the best of times. But this was a necessary risk, and she was prepared to accept the consequences.

  The king was sitting in the chair nearest the table. Nick sat on the couch next to Pug. Ulrich perched eagerly on the edge of a chair on the far side of the circle, with Lars fidgeting restlessly in the seat beside him.

  “I’m ready.”

  The Diamond King nodded. With an abrupt jerk of his glittering hand he pulled the cover from the stone.

  It didn’t look like much, just a large, rust-brown agate with thin bands of cream sitting on a polished wooden stand carved with the words “Permagnum periculum est, quae veritas tenet.” Loosely translated, “There is great danger in the truth.” The relic’s simple appearance belied its power. To lie in the presence of the stone was instant, excruciating death. Even the slightest shading of the truth was impossible, for the stone dealt with the intent of deception as well.

  The Diamond King stepped back from the table and took a seat a short distance from the central area. He had provided the stone, but his body language said clearly
that he disapproved of this endeavor and wanted no part of it. Neither did Brianna really, but she had no choice.

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she opened her mouth and began the speech she’d prepared. “Memory can be faulty—particularly after a long span of years. Words can be twisted or deliberately misunderstood. To prevent any possible error, I propose to tie the stone to my memories and project them into the room. You will all see the events of my fifteenth birthday from my point of view from the moment I met with Viktor until the last I saw him.”

  Closing her eyes, Brianna muttered the necessary words and felt the cool stone warm beneath her fingertips. There was an audible gasp from the far side of the circle. Opening her eyes, she looked at Ulrich through the misty image projected in the air above the stone. His eyes were avid, blazing with intensity as he stared at his older son on the last day of Viktor’s life.

  Deities, the man had been handsome in that Nordic, blue-eyed, blond way: slender, but muscular beneath his form-fitting clothing. Fifteen-year-old Brianna had been overwhelmed when he’d shown interest in her.… Leu’s daughter or not, she was shunned by most of the court nobles.

  “You are sure nobody knows where you are?” His eyes were dark, his tone suspicious.

  Brianna’s voice sounded sulky and very young. “I told you. They think I’m sleeping the day away after a late night at the ball. Otherwise we’d never get a minute alone.”

  Viktor glanced nervously around. At the time, Brianna had thought he was as excited as she was. Now she knew better. But hindsight is ever clear.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “I want to make you happy. If this is what you want, then it’s what I want.”

  Gods, she sounded besotted. It was almost sickening. The image wavered in response to Brianna’s emotional reaction, and she forced herself not to think, to just let the memories flow. The vision steadied and moved seamlessly forward, showing the young couple setting up a picnic in a pretty meadow far from the palace. Soon they started necking, then petting. Teenage Brianna was practically panting with need by the time Viktor opened the picnic basket and brought out the restraints: velvet ropes and silver stakes. He asked again if she was sure—and again, idiot that she’d been, she assured him that she loved him and trusted him completely.

  And she had. She’d loved him. She’d trusted him enough to let him blindfold her, gag her, and truss her up naked in the middle of the wilderness where no one was likely to find her or hear what little noise she could make. She’d been an idiot. Because as soon as he had her helpless …

  Because of the blindfold, there was nothing for the others to see, but Brianna’s memories continued to unroll through sound alone: the sound of caged animals struggling against their bars; a pair of male voices, speaking softly, as though afraid someone might hear. There was no mistaking Viktor’s voice, but the other … while it was familiar, Brianna couldn’t quite place it.

  “Cut her, then loose the gargoyles. They’re starving. They won’t be able to resist the blood.”

  “At least let me kill her first,” Viktor said.

  “You gave your word of honor that you’d do our master’s bidding. She needs to be alive and conscious when they attack.”

  “But—”

  “Does your word mean so little to you?”

  Viktor let out an incoherent growl of frustrated rage and said, “This is wrong.”

  “You should have thought of that before you entered into the bargain.”

  Brianna remembered struggling and heard her soft grunts and whimpers as she fought the bonds that held her. She did her best not to feel, again, the terror, the horror of betrayal, the knowledge that she was going to die. No one would find her for days or weeks, if ever. Brianna had thought of her mother and father and had wondered who could possibly hate her so much that they’d arrange this. She was nothing. She was Leu’s daughter, but she was Helena’s as well: Helena, a convicted felon. Brianna would never succeed her father. She wasn’t powerful or influential, hadn’t been smart or talented enough to be a threat. Why me? she’d wondered. She still didn’t have an answer.

  Footsteps approached and the grunts and struggles grew in volume.

  “I’m sorry.” Viktor’s harsh whisper was followed by her muffled scream. He’d slit her thigh with his knife: a long, shallow cut, enough to draw blood, but not nearly enough to nick the artery and risk her bleeding out.

  The gargoyles shrieked and growled, seemingly going insane at the scent of blood. There was the sound of stone slamming against metal. Brianna could hear guttural growls and high-pitched whines as the gargoyles struggled to free themselves.

  Viktor uttered the harsh syllables that released the magic that bound the cage. The scrape of the metal key in the lock was oddly loud in a sudden, breathless silence. Brianna could see nothing, but she could feel the tension; imagine the gargoyles crouched, readying themselves for escape. Even the birds in the trees grew still.

  The silence was broken by the crash of metal on stone.

  Things happened so fast—almost in an instant. Brianna shuddered, remembering the sharp scent of urine as she wet herself in pure terror, her body rigid.

  Then vision was back, and she saw Viktor, screaming, running away from the clearing, three ravening gargoyles in hot pursuit. A fourth gargoyle loomed over her, all teeth and claws. Even in that first moment, Pug had been oddly quiet, his voice a barely audible rumble.

  “You are the daughter of Leu of the Sidhe and the human Helena Washington.”

  Brianna nodded.

  “We are honor bound not to harm you.” He leaned forward. Sliding a razor sharp claw between her cheek and the fabric, he cut the gag from her face.

  “Why?” she gasped.

  He didn’t answer. In fact, he seemed almost incapable of more speech. His body trembled, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. Still, he began trying to cut through the velvet restraints binding her arms. It wasn’t easy. Apparently they’d been reinforced with magic, and the gargoyle had to stop for long periods of rest between short bouts of sawing.

  “Are you all right?” she asked. It was a stupid question. He obviously wasn’t.

  “I’m dying. They captured me weeks ago, and I haven’t had anything to eat or drink since.”

  And there she was, helpless and bleeding. The perfect meal to save his life, and instead of saving himself he was struggling to free her … struggling, and failing.

  “Would blood help?” Brianna’s voice quivered.

  “I don’t trust myself not to tear your flesh.”

  Good point. An excellent point. But she continued. “You’re too weak to work magic or cut the ties without blood. If you die, I’ll die right here beside you. I think it’s worth the risk.” Gods, how hard it had been to say that. She had been so terrified, her heart pounding like a trip-hammer in her chest.

  Brianna pulled her hand away from the truthstone, breaking the connection and the spell. What happened next between her and Pug wasn’t anyone else’s business. The sight of Viktor fleeing his pursuers was the last she’d had of him. To her knowledge, no one had seen either him—or those three gargoyles—again. There were tears in her eyes, but she blinked them back and swallowed hard, then surveyed her audience.

  King Leu looked like a statue carved of ice—except for his eyes, which blazed with a fury she’d never witnessed before. It was bad to see that expression on the face of a king—that look had started wars. Brianna had never thought she would see her father wearing it.

  The Diamond King was sitting in the shadows. Without the distraction of light and rainbows reflecting off of the faceted stone she was able to see the troubled expression he wore. Ulrich might well have been carved of stone as well. Lars looked as though it was all he could do to keep from being sick.

  Brianna turned her gaze to Nick last. Brianna’s stomach was in knots as she met his gaze and saw sorrow and a level of compassion she wouldn�
�t have dreamed possible.

  His look strengthened her. She straightened. Taking a deep breath, she addressed the assembled group. “You’ve seen for yourselves what happened. I have no idea what happened to Viktor or the gargoyles chasing him.”

  “Are we allowed to ask questions?” Ulrich’s voice sounded strained and strange.

  “Brianna?” There was no mistaking the rage in that one word uttered by her father. She hoped the anger was not directed at her.

  “What do you wish to know?” she asked.

  “Do you know who was holding my son’s leash? Who was ultimately responsible for this … atrocity?”

  “No. I couldn’t imagine who would want me to die so horribly. During our long walk back to civilization, Pug and I discussed whether it might have been an attempt to start a war between the Sidhe and the stone trolls. That was one of the reasons I didn’t investigate or come forward.” Brianna gave Lars a long, intense look. “If I had, my first act would have been to question Lars. He and Viktor were so close, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have known something about the plot. Capturing and holding one gargoyle is difficult. Four … well, that would require a group of Sidhe.”

  Brianna wouldn’t have thought it would be possible for Lars to pale further, but his skin turned a sickly shade of green as he faced his father’s silent, accusing, stare.

  He swallowed convulsively. “Father,” he said, and Brianna knew, instinctively, that he was going to lie.

  “Don’t…” The warning sprang to her lips as she felt the gathering of power in the air around the truthstone.

  “I swear I knew nothing about an attempted murder.”

  The room seemed to darken, as if all light in the space were being sucked into the stone. Brianna felt her ears pop from the sudden drop in air pressure. It was hard to breathe, as if there weren’t enough oxygen. Spots formed in her vision, so that she wasn’t sure if what she was seeing was really happening. But flickers of light, blinding as miniature stars, formed in the darkness surrounding Lars. They circled him, slowly at first, then gaining speed until they generated a blur of light and color and a sound like the roaring of a tornado. It was hard to see, but Brianna thought she glimpsed the skin flattening against the bones of his face: reddening, burning, blistering, and crisping in the heat. Through watering eyes she saw his shrieking body burn to ash that was sucked into the relentless, tornadic winds.