The Exile: Book One of the Fae

by C. T. Adams

  “Here we are.” Adam stopped in front of a set of elaborately carved wooden doors and whispered a few words under his breath. Nick suddenly saw a web of blue and red lines overlaying the entrance; the lines shimmered, then seemed to withdraw to the edges of the door frame.

  Adam pushed the door open and passed through. Nick followed, but couldn’t resist looking behind him. Sure enough, the web moved back in place the minute they were through, before the door closed.

  “Wards,” Adam explained. “I’m not surprised you can see them, based on your bloodlines. Cephia was a remarkable woman. A shame that she had to leave, but that’s politics.”

  “You knew my grandmother?”

  “Knew and liked her. I’m not surprised she didn’t fade in the human world. She’s always had quite a strong will.”

  That was the truth. No doubt about it.

  “Grandma Sophie was a Faerie.” Nick shook his head, bemused.

  “I wouldn’t use that term with any of the Sidhe if I were you. Most would take mortal insult. They put themselves far above the rest of us.”

  “Why?”

  “An excellent question, and not one I can answer. Still, Pug tells me there is plenty of prejudice in the human world, so you shouldn’t be surprised to find it here.”

  Nick had no good answer to that, so he remained silent, taking time to look around the room as he gathered his thoughts. So much had happened his mind was reeling.

  While his own rooms at Abracham House were nice, the king’s suite was magnificent. Thanks to time spent with his brother, David, Nick had picked up a fair amount of art knowledge. He was pretty sure that the sculpture in the corner was by Michelangelo, and he’d bet that at least two of the paintings on the walls were original Monets. He wished David were here. His brother would truly appreciate the beauty of each piece.

  “It’s funny,” Nick said, “I’ve known my grandmother all my life, but now I feel like I’ve never really known her at all.”

  “She is a remarkable and complex woman. Very willful, very determined. It took great courage to do what she did, knowing the kind of enemies she would make. But she had the courage of her convictions. I don’t think it even occurred to her to hesitate.”

  “You sound like you admire her.”

  “I do.” Adam smiled. “In truth, I’ve liked all of Leu’s mistresses but one.”

  Nick blinked at the thought of his grandmother with the king. But in a weird way, it wasn’t as shocking as it should have been. Grandma Sophie was unique. He could almost picture the two of them together.

  “Which one do you dislike?”

  “Asara,” Adam said. “I’m very old. Before I was royal, I spent generations enslaved by one of the noble families. My most recent owner was the Lady Asara.”

  “Oh.” Nick wasn’t sure what to say to that. From the little he’d seen of Asara at breakfast, he was betting condolences were in order, but he couldn’t be sure. He’d learned long ago that when in doubt, make neutral noises. There were times when it was good to stir the pot, make things happen. At other times it was better to let a witness tell his story in his own way—to shut up and listen without passing judgment.

  “Asara is wicked, but she is nothing compared to some of her predecessors.” Adam gave Nick a long look. “I would say the worst, the one truly evil person I was owned by, was her grandmother Valjeta. Oddly enough, she’s the one responsible for your grandmother’s exile.”

  Adam dropped the leather pouch containing the truthstone into a carved wooden casket sitting on a table. With a sigh that sounded to Nick like relief, he closed the lid and tripped the lock. Going down on one knee he moved a thick oriental rug aside to reveal a floor safe. He muttered something—presumably a spell—then worked the dial and opened the safe. He set the box with the truthstone in it with exquisite care. Once it was safely inside he slammed the safe closed, twisted the dial, and muttered another batch of words.

  “Thank the deities that’s done. I hate that damned rock.” Adam smoothed the rug back into place and rose to his feet, then crossed the room and opened a cabinet to reveal an array of liquor bottles. “After everything that’s happened this morning, I need a drink. You?”

  Nick hesitated. He could definitely use one, but he remembered David’s warning.

  Adam smiled. “Smart of you to be careful. But I did already give you my oath.” He reached into the cabinet, choosing a stoppered crystal bottle of amber liquor. With practiced movements he poured a generous portion into a cut crystal glass.

  “In that case, I’d love one. It’s been a long morning.” After a moment’s inner debate he decided to ask the king … Adam a question that had been bugging him. “David has me checking everything I eat and drink, and so is he. The king does, too. But I don’t see Brianna or any of the others doing that. Why?”

  “It may be that they’re just being subtle about it,” Adam suggested, “or it’s simply that they don’t need to. You and David need to be protected from enchantments in the food or drink that would trap you here in Faerie forever. Leu is always on the lookout for assassination attempts.” He shrugged. “Ultimately, it’s in your best interests to do it if you want your life to remain in your own control.” Adam poured a second helping for Nick and handed him the glass. “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Nick settled onto the couch. As discreetly as he could he checked the drink, using his amulet. Once he had the all clear, he took a drink. It was scotch, aged to a smooth perfection. Then again, what else would you expect between kings?

  Adam took a seat in the chair across from Nick and took a long pull from his glass. The liquor, Nick noted, just disappeared. He’d wondered, since the Diamond King was made of clear crystal, if he’d see it pass down, and was glad that he hadn’t. That would just be too weird.

  “I’m sorry you had to be there today. It was a cruel trick by Ulrich, but he’s certainly paid for it.”

  Cold, but true. And while he’d barely met the man, Nick found he felt sorry for Ulrich—he couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be to watch your son die like that. He shuddered at the memory, and took a long pull of alcohol in an attempt to warm the chill that seemed to creep into his bones at the memory.

  Adam was about to say something further, when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Yes?”

  A brownie appeared in the doorway, looking anxious. “Your majesty, I apologize for the interruption, but I was told the human Nick was with you here.”

  “I am.”

  “Sir, I’ve word from the guards that you’re needed at the palace infirmary right away. Your brother has fallen ill.”

  Nick leaped to his feet, spilling his drink as he did. Adam too, stood, and it was he who spoke. “I’ll take you there.”

  Nick set the glass down without really seeing where he put it. He rushed toward the door, but found Adam blocking the way.

  “Get out of my way.” Nick’s voice was a low, threatening growl.

  “Are you armed?”

  Nick glared at Adam. “No.”

  “Well, you need to be. And I’m coming with you. It could be the truth, but it could also be a trap.”

  24

  BRIANNA HAI

  Thank the deities that was done. The confrontation with Ulrich was over, for good or for ill. The treaty with the doxies was signed and in full force. She, David, and Nick were now officially guests, free to move about as they willed. Well, her will was to get the hell out of here just as soon as tonight’s banquet was over. Every minute, every second they spent here was a danger. Even standing here waiting at the head of the line for the dog carts her shoulders were tense, all her senses alert for a possible attack.

  I cannot believe I was actually homesick for this place.

  Not anymore. And yet, it had been good to see her father, and Lucie, Adam, and even Eammon. She smiled at the thought of his growing brood with Ruala and determined that it would do no harm at all for her to send pr
esents to the children—they’d consider anything from the other side of the veil an exotic treat.

  There were one or two others she had not seen yet that she’d like to. A visit to Elena would not be amiss before she went home. Frankly, it seemed odd that her old friend hadn’t already visited. Abracham House was not so far from her tree. The dryad had often stopped by when Helena and Brianna had been in residence. But there’d been no sign of her thus far, which seemed … odd.

  “Ard Reigh,” the brownie Jinna pushed through the crowd, many of whom grumbled against her temerity in doing so. “You are needed at the palace infirmary. The human David Antonelli is gravely ill.”

  There was a second of silence, followed by the rush of voices. Brianna ignored them all. Turning, she sprinted back into the palace, not caring who saw or what they thought. Gravely ill meant dying. If David died, here in Faerie, it would be her fault for having brought him, and she would never forgive herself for it.

  The palace infirmary took up the basement portion of the west wing of the palace. It wasn’t as large as a human hospital—most Sidhe, particularly the nobles who would be on the palace grounds, had enough personal magic to heal minor injuries without assistance, and most of the nobility kept a family healer on staff for major problems. Still, there were enough humans, part humans, and lesser Fae on the palace staff to warrant having two full healers and four assistants at any given time.

  The patient care rooms were downstairs, as were all of the supplies and sundry, but to reach those rooms required passing through a lobby on the main level of the west wing with a small waiting area for friends and family of patients and a single large desk that barred access to both the stairs and elevator leading down. This desk was always manned by a clerk chosen for the ability to be both polite and formidable.

  That august individual took one look at Brianna, bowed, and got out of her way.

  Unwilling to wait for an elevator, Brianna thundered down the stairs. She’d lost Jinna somewhere along the way, the brownie being unable to keep up with the larger woman’s speed.

  Brianna was met at the base of the stairs by a large male healer whose name she didn’t know and a pair of red-robed assistants. All three gave her courteous bows, but barred her entrance.

  “Ard Reigh, perhaps it would be better if you waited upstairs,” the healer suggested.

  “You might as well let her in, everybody else is here.” Morguenna’s voice was clearly audible, coming from the treatment room at the end of the hallway. She sounded frustrated, disgusted, and more than a little angry.

  The men stepped aside, letting her pass, and Brianna rushed to join her friend and the healer.

  The treatment room was large, well lit, well stocked, and, like a human hospital, smelled faintly of antiseptic. But the shelves mounted on the white walls held more than traditional human implements of healing. There were spell components, potions, well-thumbed grimoires, and more.

  David lay stretched out on a hospital bed with Nick standing on the left side of David, and Morguenna and a red-robed assistant worked magic and medicine on him with quiet intensity on the right. Lucienne perched on a chair nearby, her face pinched and drawn with worry, but with a flash of anger in her eyes. Beside her, Adam stood still and silent, his expressions unreadable.

  The moment Brianna stepped through the door Nick rounded on her. Eyes flashing, fists clenched, he stormed across the room until they stood toe-to-toe.

  “This is all your fault. You tricked us into coming here.”

  “Bullshit.” Lucie’s voice was crisp.

  He whirled, furious, but she continued relentlessly. “You are both adults, with free will. If you hadn’t actively chosen to come she wouldn’t have been able to bring you.”

  “We didn’t know…”

  “Again, bullshit. You were following a doxie raiding party. Don’t tell me you couldn’t see it was dangerous. You’re not that stupid. No, you don’t get to blame Brianna for this. She’s done everything in her power to keep you safe.” Lucie stood, and while she was not as tall as Nick, she was obviously not intimidated by him. “But Faerie isn’t safe for humans, never has been. The only reason your brother is alive at all right now is that there is also Sidhe blood in his veins.”

  “He’s part Sidhe?” Morguenna’s tone was avid.

  “He told me so. His grandmother Sophie is an exile.”

  Morguenna looked from Lucie to Nick. Her eyes were alight, her expression eager. “Is this true?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you thinking, Morguenna?” Brianna asked.

  “There is an antidote—combined with magic, it might be enough. I wouldn’t dare try it on a regular human. It’s too dangerous.”

  “If it will save him, do it.” There was no hesitation in Nick’s voice—it was the exact same lack of hesitation, the determination to protect his brother without regard to the cost, that had brought him through the veil with her in the first place. Obviously he hadn’t learned caution from that mistake. But she had.

  “What will it involve?” Brianna addressed Morguenna directly, ignoring Nick’s scowl.

  “David has been given an overdose of Demon’s Blood. We’ve been trying to counter it with magic and the cures I use on humans, but it’s simply too powerful and he’s got too much in his system. The antidote is meant for the Sidhe, and works with their innate magic to help counter the Demon’s Blood, but he has to have magic, and anything latent will be permanently enhanced.”

  “Do it,” Nick ordered.

  Morguenna looked to Brianna for confirmation, which obviously infuriated Nick, but he kept his mouth shut.

  “How will we know if it works?”

  “If it works, David’s condition should improve immediately. It will be obvious. This really is his best hope, Ard Reigh.”

  Brianna looked down at David’s still form on the bed. It was obvious something needed to be done, and now, or he wasn’t going to make it.

  She turned to Nick, looking so angry, frustrated … helpless in the face of his brother’s illness. He’d had no control over anything in his life since he’d been on this side of the veil, but he’d kept himself together admirably. But this, this was the one thing that was proving to be too much.

  He didn’t beg, didn’t say the words, but the plea was there in his eyes as he looked at her.

  “Do it.”

  As she said it, Lucienne was moving toward the door, intending to use the confusion caused by the spell preparations to cover her exit.

  “Stop right there.” Brianna’s command was just that. Lucie flinched, but stopped.

  “Was it you who did this to him?”

  Lucie turned, but before she could answer, Morguenna spoke up. “No, Ard Reigh, it was not the Ap Reigh.”

  “Then who?” Brianna’s voice was cold as midwinter, harsh and cruel. Brianna saw Lucie flinch again in response to the words, but it didn’t matter to her.

  “The Ard Reigh Rihannon and Brendan,” was Morguenna’s prompt reply.

  Brianna was filled with an instant, cold fury. She felt her power build, saw the light in the room brighten as her magic brought with it the shine she usually lacked.

  “Brianna … Ard Reigh.” Lucie’s tone was urgent. “You mustn’t, you can’t. She’s on the list. It would be treason.”

  Lucie was right. She couldn’t kill her sister, couldn’t call her out for a duel—unless she wanted the totally unsatisfying spectacle of watching her chosen champion fight her sister’s. And isn’t that just handy for Rihannon, Brianna thought bitterly, and stopped, a slow suspicion dawning on the very edge of her consciousness.

  “The list—” Brianna’s voice grew thoughtful. She was still glowing like a star, still angry, but now she was controlling it, not it her. She turned from Lucie to Morguenna, who with her assistant was busily working magic over a small stone bowl filled with blood from her patient.

  “Morguenna, may I use your office?”

  The healer nodded, no
t breaking her chant or giving any other indication she’d heard. Already David’s coloring was looking better.

  “Come with me, Lucie.” Brianna paused, realizing how brusque she’d sounded. “Please.”

  She led her sister a short distance down the hall to where she remembered Morguenna’s office to be. The door wasn’t locked, so the two women walked in.

  Brianna had been in the office years before, after she’d been healed from the injuries incurred saving her father. The place hadn’t changed much. It was still a small, starkly functional place, the walls filled with bookshelves. The furnishings were an old wooden desk, modern office chair, a single leather desk chair, and an apothecary’s cabinet. All were pristinely neat and well cared for, with no dust or clutter to be found anywhere.

  Brianna took a seat on the edge of the desk. Lucie took the guest chair.

  Brianna spoke quickly. “We probably only have a few minutes. Once the nobles realize David and Nick are here they’ll descend in droves—demanding to be healed of whatever minor injuries they can inflict on themselves to get here, so I don’t have time to waste on being polite.”

  “So don’t.”

  A quick grin flashed across Brianna’s face. “Thanks. And thanks for saving David.”

  “If we don’t have time to be polite, there’s no time for thanks, either. What do you need?”

  “I’m trying to remember, does the Ard Reigh position come with guards?”

  “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “Teams of six. But nobody ever uses them.”

  Brianna’s smile was positively vicious. “That is about to change.” She slid off of the desk and opened the office door. Not seeing anyone handy, she called out. “I need a pair of messengers, now.”

  A brownie poked her nose out of a door down the hall. Seeing who’d made the demand she bowed low, and nodded. By the time Brianna had stepped back into the office and resumed her seat on the desk a pair of sprites had appeared, each bearing the pink and red knotted ribbons that marked them as messengers for the healers.