Fragile Eternity tf-3

by Melissa Marr

He laid it over his eyes for a moment. It smelled minty. “Will I feel miserable the entire month I’m mortal?”

  “No.” Her voice was soft. “But your body is trying to understand the extra energy that’s coiled inside you. Your senses will be different as a faery. Your gifts will be startling. The knowledge that most faeries are born possessing is being woven into your unconscious mind. If you were just to stay here, it wouldn’t feel like this. The process could go more slowly.”

  “Woven?”

  “With a few threads from Olivia’s starlight. It makes things quicker, but it stings a bit.”

  He lifted the edge of the cloth from over his eyes to glance at her. “A bit?”

  She had moved back to the window and was tearing up the blossoms she’d collected. “And the faery’s essence that you received is stronger than most. That too makes the change more challenging…. I’ve done what I could to ease the pain.”

  The tone of her voice was very different from what it had been when she’d spoken to him before. Her expression was sculpture-stiff, but she was vulnerable. Fragile.

  Seth sat up and stared at his new queen. “You’ve given me everything. Because of you I can be with Ash. I can be there for Niall. I can survive being in their world.”

  The High Queen nodded and her look of worry receded. “Few faeries will be strong enough to be a threat to you,” she said. “I’ve made sure of that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I chose to.”

  “Right…so that month here…” Seth hated bringing it up, but right then all he wanted was to see Aislinn. “Do the six days unconscious and my first few days here count too?”

  “Yes.” Sorcha poured steaming water over the blossoms she’d plucked.

  “So twelve of my thirty days are over?” He rolled out of bed and was briefly amused as she turned and quickly threw a robe at him.

  “Yes.” She poured the blossom tea and handed him a cup. “Drink this.”

  Seth didn’t even think to hesitate. He couldn’t. His queen had given him a command: he obeyed. He swallowed the vile drink, and then he scowled. “That…I just…I couldn’t tell you no.”

  She smiled. “You’re mine, Seth Morgan. You’d give me your heart if I ordered it.”

  She owns me.

  He’d watched Niall, Donia, Keenan, and Aislinn with their faeries. It wasn’t like this. He hadn’t thought it would be like this when he’d sworn fealty. Is it different because this is Faerie? Is it her? Me? He scowled at her. “I didn’t know.”

  She walked back to stand in front of the window again, once more keeping her distance from him. “If I choose to, I own your will, your body, your soul. Would you have changed your answer?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Good.” She nodded and stepped from the room into the garden. “Bring another cup of tea.”

  She didn’t ask him to follow, but he knew that he should. It was expected.

  Barefoot, wearing pajama pants and a robe, carrying a cup of disgusting tea, he followed Sorcha into the garden with no hesitation. She was his queen: her will was all that mattered.

  He had to walk faster than he liked in order to catch up. “So I’m what? Your pet? Your servant?”

  Sorcha’s look was bemused. “I don’t keep pets. Faerie isn’t as twisted as it looks from out there”—she made a vague gesture toward a faraway stone wall—“we are civilized in my court.”

  “You own me. I’m not seeing how that’s civilized.” He sipped the noxious tea. “It isn’t like that for other rulers.”

  “No?” She made a moue of confusion and then shrugged. “I am different. We are different.”

  “But I’m a faery when I’m out there?” He suddenly needed to have her confirm it. The weirdness of her being able to steal his will had unsettled him.

  “A strong faery. A faery few will be able to overcome. You are different, but yes, definitely a faery.” She looked away from him, staring at a bench that seemed as if it was carved of ivory. It was surrounded by tiny winged insects that shone like fireflies. They moved in a blurring arc and vanished.

  “Okay. In here I’m a mortal. So what am I to do? Do I just lie about?” Seth hoped that his being a faery wasn’t going to make him turn into someone who parsed words so oddly. Conversation with many faeries was infuriating. Sorcha was no exception.

  She gave him another tolerant look—as if he were the one being difficult. “You will do what mortals have always done for us: you will create.”

  “Create?”

  “Art. Music. Verse.” Absently, she ran a hand over the bench. The patterns on it re-formed under her touch. “Everything you need is available here. Whatever medium. Whatever palette. Find inspiration and create something amazing for me.”

  “So my price for immortality is weeks spent here doing what I enjoy doing?”

  “Just”—she gave him a calculating look that he had seen on other queens’ faces—“don’t disappoint me. I will have your passion in your creation, or you won’t leave.”

  “No.” Seth’s temper piqued, and he took a step toward her. “A month per year. That is the deal.”

  “A month of fealty in Faerie was the deal. If you are to truly serve me, you will give me true art. Nothing offered to fill the surface only. True art. True passion.” Her tone grew gentle then. “Rest today, Seth. Tomorrow, I will return.”

  There was something hidden in her voice, but before he could ask any questions, a gray stone wall on the opposite side of the garden path opened. Devlin emerged from behind it.

  Sorcha gave a sad smile to Seth that confused him. “A mortal shouldn’t be allowed the autonomy and influence you’ve had. Three of the four courts have been touched by your will. Balance needs to be reestablished. You are out of the natural order and so must be nullified in some way. It is in everyone’s best interests.”

  Seth suppressed a shudder as he looked from the High Queen to the waiting faery. Seth had believed that the worst of the faeries belonged to Niall these days, but as he looked at the placid expression on Devlin’s face, he wasn’t so sure.

  The monsters don’t always look like monsters.

  Devlin gestured for Seth to precede him through the stone doorway, away from Sorcha, and Seth had to wonder just how far the queen’s lackey would go to “nullify” something she declared out of order.

  Chapter 27

  Sorcha came to Seth’s room again the next day—and the three that followed. She’d stay all day, for countless hours while he worked. They spoke of life and dreams, of philosophy and art, of music he’d enjoyed and theater she’d seen. They walked in the garden. And sometimes, she simply sat quietly meditating or reading while he painted or sketched. Seth couldn’t imagine being away from her. If not for missing Aislinn, he could see himself staying in Faerie. Out there, he had no real purpose, no direction, no family. He lived only for Aislinn. In Faerie, he existed to create Art. He felt whole for the first time he could remember, at peace and sure of everything. He’d come seeking immortality, but what he’d found was more valuable.

  Happiness. Peace. Home. It was tinged with an unending ache for Aislinn and a new sorrow that he’d be leaving Sorcha at the end of the month. His choice to be a faery had given him everything he’d sought—and other gifts he hadn’t dreamed he could ever have.

  The thought of leaving Faerie was frightening.

  He channeled those emotions, desires, and fears into his art. Mostly, he’d been painting. The room was littered with half-finished canvases. He tried to work with the metals that had appeared in the side room as well. He’d completed a few tolerable things, but nothing worth her—nothing that met his goal.

  “Seth?” Sorcha was beside him. “Are you able to pause for a bit today?”

  “For?”

  She smiled and wiped a bit of paint from his face. “You have a guest, dear.”

  Guests. He couldn’t leave, but he could have guests if Sorcha allowed it. His heart was thundering. “A gue
st? Ash? She’s here?”

  “Not her.” Sorcha sounded almost sad as she said it.

  The Dark King appeared out of nothingness behind Sorcha. “I see my advice was completely ignored,” he said.

  Seth embraced Niall. Aside from seeing Aislinn, nothing else could please him as much as seeing the Dark King. He stepped back and said, “You were wrong.”

  Niall laughed. “More arrogant already…you’ve been spending time with the wrong court, little brother.”

  The High Queen’s tense expression relaxed ever so slightly. “I’ll leave you to roam with Niall then. I’ll be in the dining hall after.” To Niall, she only said, “Return to me when you’re ready to talk about other matters. Mayhaps we can discuss regrets….”

  Seth couldn’t help but watch her as she left. He could count the heartbeats between each movement. He had: they never altered. The rhythm of her motion was one of perfection. When her hand lifted to open the door, it was with the same arc each time she reached out. If he measured the distance, Seth knew she’d match it with precision. Today though, she hesitated for a heartbeat extra on several steps. The beat of her movements was imprecise.

  “She’s upset,” Seth said.

  “What?”

  Seth explained the counting and added, “Like music. Her song is not as it always is.” He glanced at Niall. “You unsettle her.”

  Niall’s gaze went to the doorway through which Sorcha had left. The flickering dancers surged forward as if they would step from his eyes to pursue the High Queen. “It’s a natural antipathy.”

  “Perhaps she would be pleased by your attention. If it would please her, maybe—”

  “I don’t know if you realize it or not, but your sudden devotion to her is creepy.” Niall shook his head.

  Seth bit his lip ring, thinking the words over before he answered. “My closest friend rules the court of nightmares. My girlfriend is the embodiment of a season. I’m not sure you can really call this ‘creepy.’ Sorcha makes me feel peaceful. I like it.”

  “There are going to be consequences.”

  “I made the right choice. This is what I want.”

  Niall shook his head. “Let’s hope you’re still saying that later.”

  Seth walked over to the window that led to his garden. He pushed it open. “Come on.”

  When Niall followed, Seth resumed speaking. “I find a different sort of peace in Sorcha’s court. It’s taken years of meditation to reach the calm I had before, and it felt like it was going to slip away every time I saw Keenan’s influence growing stronger…but in one moment, one promise, complete peace. One month a year with her and I can have everything I need. Out there, I will be as you used to be—with faery weaknesses and faery strengths. I can be with Ash forever. I can be there for you forever. Don’t you see? It’s perfect.”

  “Except for the month here. Just come with me. I took you into my court’s protection and…my court is the one that balances hers. We can take you home now.”

  “I am home, Niall. Aside from missing Ash—” Seth stopped himself. “Why do you know I’m here but she doesn’t?”

  “Seth…” Niall dropped his gaze.

  “What?”

  “Keenan hasn’t told her. He knows. Everyone knows.”

  “Except her.” Seth swallowed the words of anger and fear that rose up. Panic wasn’t the answer. He was in Faerie; he had peace; and he’d have forever with Aislinn. “Why?”

  “Come home with me,” Niall repeated. “We can go to her.”

  “Keenan is taking advantage of my absence.” Seth said the truth that Niall was avoiding. “Already? I’ve only been here a few days. Thirty days without me isn’t going to change everything.”

  Devlin appeared in the path in front of them. “Tread carefully, Niall. Sorcha will not be pleased if you say what you would reveal.” To Seth, Devlin said, “Sorcha requires that you do not pursue this matter.”

  And just like that, Seth was unable to continue the conversation. “I believe we need to talk about something else.”

  “Is that what you want? Give me the word…” Niall glared at Devlin. “Think, Seth. If you choose to, you can resist her wishes. It’s harder with her. Harder in Faerie, but I know you can—”

  “She’s my queen, Niall. I want what she wants. She gave me the world.”

  “Do you have any idea how disturbing you are?” Niall’s expression was raw. “You’re my friend, Seth, and you’re vacant.”

  “I’m not vacant. I’m just”—Seth shrugged—“at peace.”

  “I think I should go.”

  “It would be best. I have work yet, and she is oddly possessive of my attention. There’s a door you can use.” Seth gestured toward a thorn-hidden doorway in the distance, one of the openings from Sorcha’s demesne into the mortal world.

  “Be safe.”

  “I am. I’m happy here. She knows things. Everything makes so much more sense when she explains it.” He let his thoughts wander to the late-night conversations they’d been having in the garden. Philosophy, religion, so many things were clear when he spoke to his queen. Then—brimming with art and passion and epiphanies—he’d return to the studio she’d given him and create until he could barely stay upright.

  “Later, once you’re away from Sorcha, we need to talk. Come see me when you are home? You are coming home, right?”

  “I am coming back. Aislinn is on the other side of the veil.” Seth reached out to clasp Niall’s forearm. “But I will only discuss what Sorcha permits. Even when I am not here, I’ll honor my vows to my queen.”

  “I’ll see you when you come home—and are yourself again.” Niall turned away.

  Seth walked a few moments longer, and then he returned to his art. A little more than two of his four weeks were over in Faerie. Soon he’d be able to see Aislinn.

  Chapter 28

  More than four months had passed since Seth left. There were no calls or messages from him, nor was there any news from Niall. Skirmishes between Summer and Winter Court faeries happened more and more. Dark Court faeries attacked the increasingly vulnerable Summer Court fey, who were weakened by Aislinn’s inability to move forward. Choosing to be happy was far easier to say than to do. She and Keenan were in a stasis of sorts, and their court was suffering for it. They sat side by side in the study as guards shared reports from around Huntsdale and beyond. It wasn’t a new event, but the tone was worse yet again.

  “The Ly Ergs grow bolder every day,” a glaistig reported. She was not as disappointed by this as most Summer Court faeries would be, but the glaistigs were mercenaries. The hooved faeries roamed all of the courts, hiring on for trouble at times, living as solitaries at other points.

  Keenan nodded.

  Aislinn felt her court face lock into place, a mask to hide her worry.

  Beside her, Keenan squeezed her hand. Sunlight slipped from his palm to hers. Comfort but not enough. He let her stay quiet as guards reported troubles, as if she were fragile. I am. She felt like that some days, that she was nothing more than spun glass that would shatter if she moved the wrong way.

  Then Quinn spoke. “When Bananach was out and about, the guards looked in her nest. There’s no evidence that Seth was ever there.”

  “What?” Aislinn’s slight grasp on calmness fled. Hearing Seth’s name so casually tied to Bananach’s was bone chilling.

  Keenan held tighter to her hand; he was an anchor tethering her to some semblance of stability. “Quinn—”

  “No evidence?” Aislinn tried to keep her voice steady, and failed. “What do you mean?”

  Quinn’s posture didn’t shift. He stayed focused on her although the other guards shifted anxiously. “She’s the carrion crow, my Queen. If she’d killed him, there would be evidence. Neither blood nor bone there is his—”

  “Enough,” Keenan snarled. He kept her hand in his and pulled her closer to him.

  Aislinn felt as much as saw a shimmer of fog uncoiling in the room. “No. I want to know
.” She looked over and caught Keenan’s gaze. “I need to know.”

  “I can deal with this, Ash,” Keenan spoke in a low voice, feigning privacy. “You don’t need to hear if there’s…unpleasantness.”

  “I need to,” she repeated.

  He stared at her silently for several breaths before saying, “Continue.”

  Quinn cleared his throat. “There were strange things. A shirt of yours”—he paused as he stumbled over the words and glanced at Keenan—“hers, our queen. A bit of the pet serpent’s shed skin. A book of Seth’s.”

  “Why would she have any of that?” Aislinn had begun to accept that he’d simply left her. Now, with Seth’s things at Bananach’s nest, she wondered if she’d been completely wrong.

  Keenan looked at the guards, at Quinn. The Summer King was angry. “Leave us.”

  The guards vanished amid murmured chastisements to Quinn. After turning his back on the departing faeries, Keenan pushed the coffee table away and knelt on the floor in front of her. “Let me handle this. Please?”

  Aislinn rested her head on his shoulder. “I need to know why our things are there. He wouldn’t go to her as a friend.”

  “Maybe he would. He is friends with Niall. Bananach is of that court.” Keenan stroked her hair. “Seth’s already accepted the Dark Court’s protection. He was angry with me. We had words before, Aislinn. He told me that he’d use what influence he had to strike me if I…if I manipulated you.”

  “Seth?” She pulled back and stared at her king. “Seth threatened you? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Keenan shrugged. “It didn’t seem the right choice. You and I had talked. I intended to…Donia had forgiven me. I thought it would be unwise to tell you, and then he left and I saw no reason to upset you further.”

  “You should’ve said something. You agreed to not keep secrets from me.” Her skin was steaming from the pulse of sunlight shifting angrily inside of her. Had he been anyone else he couldn’t have touched her just then.

  “But I am telling you,” he said. “Quinn ought to have kept—”