Iron Kin: A Novel of the Half-Light City

by M. J. Scott

  I laughed, and she turned to glare at me. Given the choice of stilted small talk with Bryony and teasing Saskia, I chose the latter. I walked back over to her, skirting the statue warily. “What did you do?” I asked.

  “I was trying to see what she’s made of,” Saskia said.

  “Apparently she doesn’t appreciate snooping.”

  “I wasn’t snooping,” she said indignantly. “It’s not snooping to be curious.” One side of her mouth curled up. “This place is . . .”

  Her voice drifted off.

  “What?” I prompted.

  She curled her fingers back against her chest, then stretched her arm again, gesturing around the garden. “It feels . . . Don’t you feel it, Fen? The power? The earth fairly sings with it here.”

  Sings? Was that how it seemed to her? It didn’t feel like a song to me; it felt like a vast weight pressing on me, trying to hold me down. The ache in my wrist was worse than usual, the iron a solid band of burning pain against my skin.

  But I couldn’t tell Saskia that. She would just worry.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” I said. “Maybe the iron stops me from noticing.”

  Her eyes flicked to my wrist, her expression guilt-stricken for a moment. “Maybe the Seneschal was right and the Fae healers can help.”

  “Maybe.” I wasn’t looking forward to being examined by any healer, let alone one of the Fae. Nor did I fancy them working magic on me, which was the only way I could think of that they would possibly be able to help me.

  Saskia smiled. “That would be something good out of this.” She moved a few steps farther, bending down to look at one of the strange plants. “I wonder what these are.” She didn’t try to touch one of the blooms, though—the odd purple-gray flowers had a spiky surface that looked potentially painful. Instead she bent closer still to inspect it and then sniffed one of the black roses that grew alongside it.

  “Perhaps Bryony can tell you,” I said. But as Saskia turned to look behind us there was a clatter of hooves and her expression turned guarded. I twisted too.

  A large carriage drawn by two black horses had pulled up at the far end of the courtyard. Was this the queen’s summons?

  The carriage door opened and Saskia and I stood watching as a Fae man descended, dressed in robes as black as the roses. He had dark hair too—as dark as Bryony’s—and pale skin, and he carried a shining black cane, though he didn’t move as if he needed assistance.

  Bryony’s back went stiff as he walked across the tiles toward her and stopped a few paces away from where she and Liam stood.

  “Bryony sa’Eleniel,” the man said with a shallow bow. He extended his hand and I saw the flash of a Family ring. Blue and purple. The same colors as the ring on Bryony’s hand.

  Bryony took the hand and bowed over it. “Father,” she said with equal politeness. “It is good to see you.”

  SASKIA

  * * *

  There was a long silence in the coach after Bryony’s father had directed us into its depths. While I was glad to leave the eerie courtyard, I would have liked to know where we were going. But if Bryony and her father weren’t going to speak, then none of us seemed willing to risk offending a Fae lord by breaching some unknown rule of etiquette.

  Beside me, Fen was particularly still, as though he thought that unmoving, he would remain unseen. But he would need Lily’s powers to pass beneath the notice of the Fae, and those he didn’t have.

  He was closest to the window, blocking the view so that I caught only glimpses of the country we passed through as the coach rolled smoothly along. What I could see intrigued me. The sky stayed the same uncertain gray, but the landscape itself seemed to alter at will. Whose will, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps the changes marked the boundaries of Fae territories, but it was both intriguing and disconcerting to see rolling hills give way to ancient-looking forests and those, in turn, dissolve into fields of long grasses.

  It only brought home the fact that we were definitely not in the City anymore and that the rules of this land were very, very different.

  And Bryony was the one who was meant to guide us through them. I turned back to her. She was watching her father with an expression that I would have called almost wary, but I had never actually seen Bryony look daunted by anything in all the years that I’d known her, so perhaps I was mistaken.

  I looked across to her father, who was watching her in turn. His face was perfectly calm. A little too calm. He hadn’t seen his daughter for six years. Surely he felt something?

  “So, Father,” Bryony said suddenly. “To what do we owe the honor of your regard?”

  Lord sa’Eleniel cocked his head slightly, long pale fingers curling around the curved head of his cane. “The Seneschal did me the kindness of informing me that my daughter had seen fit to return to the Veiled World. It is only proper that I come to greet her.”

  “You could have greeted me anytime in the last six years. You have known where I was.”

  His eyes darkened a little. I had seen that look on Bryony’s face many times and almost snorted. Like father, like daughter, apparently.

  “I have too many concerns here in the courts to waste time in the world outside.”

  “That world outside is somewhat disrupted right now, thanks to—”

  “Be careful,” he warned. “Now is not the time to draw the attention of the queen in the wrong way.”

  “That’s unfortunate when I am seeking an audience with her.”

  “So I am told.” He rubbed his chin, the ring on his hand, twice as large as Bryony’s, flashing suddenly. “What confuses me is the reason for that request.”

  “Don’t be coy, Father. You must know what happened at the negotiations.”

  “Indeed I do. Our Speaker was murdered.” His face twisted with the first sign of genuine emotion he’d displayed. “A sign of the perfidy of the outer worlds.”

  “The humans had nothing to do with the killing,” Bryony said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because they have nothing to gain by the negotiations’ failing. In fact, they have the most to lose.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “No, not perhaps. They are the ones who risk being overrun by the Beasts and the Blood.”

  “If that happens, then perhaps it is meant to be.”

  “Father!”

  “Don’t be naive, child. The queen has held this peace through her will and power for a very long time now. If it fails, then it is the will of something greater than all of us.”

  “It is the will of Ignatius Grey,” Bryony snapped. “And he is not greater than me.”

  Lord sa’Eleniel frowned. “Do you know that for sure?”

  “No. Nothing is certain. But Ignatius is the one who is determined to be the next Lord of the Blood. And he seems to share Lord Lucius’ ambition. Lucius grew bolder these last few years. He was building to something. I think that Ignatius is following in his footsteps. No good will come of that.”

  Lord sa’Eleniel leaned back against the seat, the cane tapping the floor for a moment. “Regardless, it is the queen’s will that will determine the outcome.”

  “Which is why I am here. Someone has to make her see reason.”

  “Dangerous words.”

  “The queen is giving in to grief and affection. But she cannot afford to. Not now.”

  “Nobody tells the queen what to do.” His tone suggested that he meant nobody sane at least.

  “I am not telling her. I have a case to make.”

  “If you are given an audience.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Her father shrugged.

  “Father. Please. Do not interfere in this.”

  His brows drew together. An uneasy feeling rose in my stomach. There had been a plot against the queen in the Fae Courts. Guy and Holly had helped uncover it, but I hadn’t heard that the queen had successfully hunted down all those who may have been involved. If Bryony’s father was counseling her ag
ainst going to the queen, was it out of concern for her safety or was it because he was one of those who might desire a change in power in the Veiled World?

  The collapse of the treaty might be enough impetus to power a strike against the queen. I didn’t know enough about Fae law, but maybe it would even give a reason for the court to bring a genuine grievance against the queen. If there were those who wanted someone else to rule the Fae, then this was an opportunity for them too.

  I rubbed my forehead as my head began to ache. The whole thing was a mess and I didn’t see how anyone could find a solution to it. Maybe Fen’s visions were right and we were all doomed. Perhaps I should just stay here in the Veiled World, sheltered from whatever might come in the world outside. Even if the Blood did wrest power in the City, they would never be allowed to cross the borders of Summerdale. The Fae magics were too strong for that. The Blood could defeat the humans with sheer strength and viciousness, and they could probably sway the Beasts to their will as well, but the Fae had always been safe from them.

  Then I remembered what Fen had said he had seen. Both Fae and humans kneeling to Ignatius. My stomach turned over again as the implications of that struck home for the first time. Could a Blood Lord rise that high?

  No.

  I had to believe it wasn’t true. Maybe there would be a few Fae—those who’d made their lives with the humans, like Bryony—those who might fight and lose with us, who could be defeated, but the Fae as a race were too powerful to fall. Which was why we needed them. Needed the queen to come back and keep the peace that she’d defended all these years.

  Grief, Bryony had said. I knew about grief. Knew the rage and pain that came from losing someone you cared about. I didn’t know if the queen had loved the Speaker, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that she moved past pain to see reason again. It had taken me years to get over Edwina’s death, not that I was reconciled to the fact even now.

  We didn’t have years to convince the queen, and she had known the Speaker for far longer than the sixteen years of my sister’s life.

  How much worse might the grief of centuries be?

  And how the hell could we overcome it?

  FEN

  * * *

  The journey continued through the disconcerting, ever-changing landscape of the Veiled Lands. Bryony and her father lapsed back into silence after their somewhat heated conversation. Heated for them, at least. Nothing seemed to have been decided, but perhaps there was some other deeper thread of dialogue being carried beneath their words that the rest of us just wouldn’t recognize.

  I had no idea where we were going or what we were supposed to do when we got there. I’d assumed that we would go straight to the Veiled Court when we arrived in Summerdale, but I should have known that things were never quite that simple when dealing with the Fae.

  Just as I was deciding that I’d had enough and I was going to ask Bryony to explain what the hell was happening—protocol be damned—the coach made a swinging turn and the landscape around us changed again from a high and barren-looking moor to a leafy green avenue of trees that lined either side of the smooth white stone path beneath our wheels.

  “Where are we?” I asked as the coach began to slow. I couldn’t quite see what lay ahead through the window, not without poking my head out, and I was reluctant to do that in a place so obviously steeped in magic. Who knew what might happen if I did? I might get turned into a frog, or something might just decide to lop it off altogether.

  “This is the boundary to the sa’Eleniel territory,” Bryony said.

  The coach halted and Lord sa’Eleniel opened the door and climbed down without a backward glance.

  I stayed where I was. “I thought we were going to the court.”

  “My father thinks it best if he presents me. Which means we are stopping here for a while first.”

  “A while? How long is a while?” Saskia said, with an anxious flick of her hands, which I suspected was as close to disapproval as she was willing to show this deep in Fae territory.

  “I know,” Bryony said. “Don’t worry,” she added as she gathered her skirts and prepared to climb down after her father.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Saskia muttered as Bryony left the coach.

  She looked across at me. I shook my head at her. There was nothing that we could do, other than follow Bryony and see what happened. If we were no closer to the queen after another few hours, then it would be time to come up with another plan.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  FEN

  The coach had halted in a courtyard similar to the one we had left. This one was semicircular, the cobbled drive a dark gray sweep against the grass on either side. The flat side of the semicircle was a house. Though “house” seemed too tame a word. It was massive. Bigger than the DuCaine mansion—and that was saying something.

  We followed Bryony into the house, where a bevy of servants—I assumed that’s what they were—appeared and started fussing around her. Liam and Saskia and I stood in an awkward group watching the commotion.

  Eventually Bryony extricated herself from the gaggle and joined us.

  “Our rooms will be ready soon.”

  “Rooms? How long are we going to be here?”

  She gave me a quelling look. “Patience, Fen.” She made a little gesture when I started to protest, as though to say, “We can’t talk here.”

  I held my tongue, deciding that waiting a little bit longer wouldn’t hurt. But I was determined to get the full story as soon as we were somewhere private.

  The servants ushered us down long corridors, the walls painted with twining plants and flowers, and into a suite of rooms that had several bedrooms situated around a central living area. There was no ceiling on the central room, though it was richly furnished.

  Was the sky that showed clearly above us just an illusion or did some other magic protect the furniture from the elements? I couldn’t feel a ward overhead but the general background level of magic here in the Veiled World was so strong, I didn’t know if I could sense a ward if there was one.

  The servants left us at Bryony’s command. She closed the door and pressed her palm against it. I felt a flare of power and her hand twitched before she straightened and turned back to us.

  “Are you going to tell us what’s going on now?” Liam said.

  I turned to him in surprise. He’d stayed silent up until this point, stoically following orders. I hadn’t expected him to be the one demanding information. Even Templars had limits of patience, it seemed.

  “Come sit down,” Bryony said. She pulled out a chair from the round table near the glass doors that led out to yet another garden.

  We all obeyed, positioning ourselves around the table, watching Bryony expectantly.

  There was a knock at the door and one of the ubiquitous servers entered after Bryony released the wards.

  “My lady, there are healers here to see to your guest.” The servant didn’t look at me.

  Beside me, Saskia stiffened and I moved my hand over hers briefly, ignoring the churn in my gut.

  Bryony nodded. “Fen? Are you ready?”

  I rose from my seat. I didn’t like it, but I wasn’t going to let the Fae see that. I made myself shrug. “No point putting it off.”

  Bryony looked almost sympathetic but she nodded. “I’ll come with you.” She looked at Liam, sitting across from me. “Liam, do you wish to come too?”

  Surprise flashed in Liam’s green eyes. “Me? There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “I know your arm has been treated at St. Giles,” Bryony said gently, “but the Fae here can sometimes do things that we can’t achieve in the City. If you wish, they will examine you.”

  “Unless they can make my hand grow back, I’m not sure what good they can do.” Liam’s tone was light, but it held a thread of sudden hope that was almost painful to listen to.

  “They can’t do that,” Bryony said. “But they can ease some of that other pain that
you refuse to admit to.” She fixed him with a stern look. “Your missing hand hurts sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  Liam’s expression turned stubborn. “I said I was fine.”

  I was surprised at his defiance. I suspected that Liam had a slight crush on Bryony—he was unfailingly deferential to her and even more quiet than usual when he was in her company. A High Family Fae and a Templar was not a relationship fated to succeed, so I thought him wise to keep his feelings to himself. But for him to be refusing what Bryony offered now meant that he felt very strongly about it.

  “Beside,” Liam added, “I’d rather not leave Miss Saskia alone in this place.”

  “She’s perfectly safe here,” Bryony said.

  “All the same.” Liam folded his arms across his chest, making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Thank you, but no. I have no need of the healers.”

  Bryony sighed. “Very well. But remember, you only have to ask while we are here. Fen, we should go.”

  I looked down at Saskia, wishing I could think of something to say to ease the worry in her eyes. “As you wish, Lady Bryony.”

  “We shouldn’t be overly long,” Bryony said. “I’ll reseal the wards when I go. Please don’t go anywhere until I return.”

  I wondered where she thought Saskia and Liam were likely to go, then wondered if she was actually worried about someone trying to take them while she was gone. Not the most cheerful thought I’d had.

  Liam nodded. “We’ll be here.”

  * * *

  Bryony led the way through another confusing series of hallways. I tried to memorize our route, but there was something about the angles of the corridors that didn’t entirely make sense, as though the house itself was located in more than one place. Which may well have been possible here in Summerdale.

  I stuck close to Bryony, who didn’t seem at all concerned by the house’s odd geography.

  Another Fae woman was waiting for us when we finally reached our destination. Her nearly white blond hair was caught back from her face and piled high. It contrasted with the deep gold of her skin and ice blue eyes. From her coloring, I assumed she was no relation of Bryony’s.