by Doty, J. L.
Magreth turned a cold, disbelieving look upon the young mage. “But what of his oaths, Tyon?”
“I asked him that also, and again his exact words were, ‘Tell Magreth I will not betray my oaths, but they do not hinder me in this.’ I knew you would want to hear them as if he stood here before you himself, so I was careful to remember them exactly.”
The Summer Queen nodded. “Stand, Tyon. You have done well.”
She turned to her chancellor. “So, Cadilus, the Summer Knight chooses to intervene in some way. And he gives us his word, without prevarication. How un-Sidhe of him!”
He shrugged. “And I have no doubt Anogh will deliver.”
“Are you saying we should stand down as he requested?”
Cadilus glanced sideways at the young warrior Tyon. Magreth nodded, took the hint and said to the young warrior. “Tyon, thank you, you have served me well. You may go.”
The young warrior bowed and backed out of the audience chamber.
Cadilus waited until he was gone, the door closed completely behind him, before speaking. “The Unseelie Court has taken the Old Wizard’s daughter. Simuth is holding her hostage in Faerie.”
Magreth’s brows narrowed angrily. “That is disturbing, Cadilus. The Old Wizard just might choose to trade the young mage for her.”
“He is a crafty, old fellow, Your Majesty, and a formidable opponent for anyone. I doubt he will turn to that recourse immediately. But it does give the Winter Court a serious edge with regard to the young mage.”
“You’re right, as always, my dear Cadilus. But Simuth is an animal. He could damage her.”
Cadilus frowned. “Ag is no less an animal, but he knows when to control his instincts, and when to control Simuth. And since, at the time, there were no open hostilities between the Old Wizard and the Winter Court, that makes Ag the aggressor, which means he is not completely free to act as he might choose. He must move with care here, for to act imprudently might precipitate open war with the Old Wizard and his colleagues. We might then align with the Old Wizard, and even Ag is not fool enough to wage war on two fronts.”
Her brows furrowed deeply. “It makes me wonder if Anogh isn’t playing some game of his own.”
Cadilus smiled, raised both hands palms up, as if to say, Of course he is. “He is Anogh. When has he ever not played a game of his own? But I wonder how he will thread the needle, not violate his oaths and deliver the young wizard to us.”
She shook her head. “No, Cadilus, he did not say that. He said the young wizard will not be bound to the Winter Court. He did not say he would be bound to us. He can accomplish that in many ways, one of which is to merely kill the young fool. Perhaps it is time we play a more direct role in the events to come.”
Chapter 18: Memories Unlocked
Katherine suspected Ag had intervened, though no one would admit that openly. She had a cloudy memory of standing before the Winter King while he discussed her with Simuth, though the memory did not include any details of what they had said. But the hazy veil of beguilement had lifted, the sexual exploits with Simuth and his friends had ended abruptly, and now she was frequently summoned into Ag’s presence. It was a relief to think again without induced sexual desire clouding her every thought. She still couldn’t get used to walking around always dressed only in semi-transparent Sidhe silks, especially since the other women of the Court dressed as they chose, though always elegantly. It was a constant reminder she was not free to choose, that she was, for all intents and purposes, a slave. She understood the psychology of that.
“My dear,” Ag said. “Your thoughts were elsewhere. Tell me.”
He could easily force her. And though she and her father had never bothered with any serious instruction in Sidhe Court etiquette, she could adapt, and be as evasive as they without triggering any desire to force the truth from her. “Just a trifling thought, Your Majesty, nothing of sufficient consequence to trouble the Winter King.”
They walked a pathway through a lovely garden of strange flowers and plants. She paused to admire a particularly beautiful blossom. “It’s magnificent,” she said.
“I’m pleased you like it,” Ag said. He plucked the flower, stripped a few leaves from the stem and inserted it in her hair. He sat down on a stone bench, patted a spot beside him. “Come. Sit beside me.”
She did, for she dare not disobey him.
“You are troubled, my child.”
His fatherly demeanor did not fool her in the least. He had condoned Simuth’s activities, even if only through his indifference. And while she had been horrified at the rape of her body, Simuth had taught her the rape of her mind was far more agonizing. “I confess that I fear, Your Majesty, for myself, for my father, for my friends. I know I am merely a pawn in this game.”
“Ah, but such a lovely pawn, my dear.” He looked through the translucent silk at her breasts, and the smile that appeared on his face appalled her. “And you need not fear. We merely seek certain concessions regarding the young mage. He need not be fully bound to us. So with the proper assurances, you and your father and your friends can return to your mundane lives.”
She couldn’t believe a word he said, but she dare not confront him with that. “Thank you, Your Majesty. My heart rests easier now.”
~~~
They were all sitting around McGowan’s kitchen table, sucking down coffee and trying to hatch a plan to rescue Katherine, when the doorbell rang. Sarah stood and said, “I’ll get it.”
When Sarah returned to the kitchen she handed McGowan a business card and said, “It’s the same distinguished gentleman who visited some months back. Clearly Seelie, and probably royal blood.”
McGowan looked at Colleen and said, “Cadilus.”
“Ah,” she said, smiling knowingly. “Very interesting!”
“Holy shit!” Devoe grumbled.
“All of you wait here,” McGowan instructed them. “I’ll meet with him in my study.” He turned and marched down the hall to the front door.
McGowan had been with Cadilus for almost an hour when Colleen closed her eyes in an odd way and leaned her head back as if listening to something. She sat that way for a few seconds, then opened her eyes and looked directly at Paul. “You and I are to join Walter in his study. Be careful to address Cadilus as Lord Cadilus or Your Excellency. I am Lady Armaugh, and Walter is just plain Old Wizard, though use that term only with the utmost respect. Do not speak your own name under any circumstances. And above all, do not let him touch you.”
As usual, Cadilus had chosen to appear in his British diplomat persona. He sat in an antique wingback chair, holding a brandy snifter that contained an amber liquid. He stood immediately, put the snifter down on a small table, approached Colleen, bowed from the waist, and as she extended her hand he kissed it delicately. He straightened, spoke in a deep baritone with an upper-crust British accent, “Lady Armaugh, I am doubly blessed to see you twice in such a short period of time.”
She smiled stonily. “Lord Cadilus.”
He doted on her, escorted her to another chair like his, saw her seated comfortably before turning to Paul. He simply said, “Young Mage,” nodded, and returned to his chair. Paul remained standing.
Colleen said, “So, what brings you among us mortals?”
McGowan answered her. “Her Majesty, the most gracious Magreth, has invited us to attend her at Court.”
Colleen frowned at Cadilus. “These are trying times, Your Excellency. Any journey to Faerie could be most dangerous for us.”
“Her Majesty is well aware of that,” Cadilus said. “You will be granted guest right of the house of the Summer Queen, and escorted by a rank of Sidhe warriors chosen from among her personal guard. Your guest right and protection will extend from a place of your choosing in the Mortal Plane, to the Seelie Court, then back to any other place of your choosing in the Mortal Plane, be it the same place from which you began the journey, or a different one.”
“A most generous offer,” she said.
“I shall look forward with heightened anticipation to seeing the beauty of the Summer Court again. And of course, we will bring our own protections.”
There was some undercurrent here that Paul didn’t understand. “Of course you may. And the beauty of the Summer Court will only be enhanced by your presence, my lady.” Cadilus turned back to McGowan. “When may I tell Her Majesty to expect you, Old Wizard?”
“We can be ready at dusk tomorrow, Your Excellency. We’ll leave from the garden in the back of this house. The back of my property is an old boundary between districts in the city.”
Cadilus stood. “Well, then my business here is concluded. I won’t impose upon you further.”
McGowan stood also. “I’ll see you to the door.”
Cadilus was closer to the door, and in a few casual steps drew near Paul, reached out his hand. “Young man, it’s been a pleasure—”
Colleen did one of those moves of hers that seemed casual, didn’t give an impression of quick or hurried movement, but in fact crossed the length of the room in a heartbeat, stepping between Cadilus and Paul. She shook his hand warmly. “Good friend, until we meet again.”
Cadilus smiled knowingly, and Paul realized they were playing a dangerous little game. They all knew it was a game, they all knew the rules, they all knew everyone would attempt to cheat, and they all pretended it wasn’t so.
McGowan escorted Cadilus out the door. Paul started to speak, but Colleen held a finger to her lips.
They waited perhaps five minutes for McGowan to return. He paused half way through the study door, shouted down the hall. “Clark, can you join us?”
Paul asked both of them, “Was there a whole lot going on there that I couldn’t read?”
McGowan grinned. “Oh yes, kid. But I got the information we really needed while I had him alone.”
Devoe slipped into the room, closed the study door quietly and slipped into the shadows nearby.
“Anyone want a drink?” McGowan asked. He splashed whiskey into several glasses and passed them around.
McGowan looked at Paul. “First, you need to know that the Sidhe never lie, but are masters at getting you to deceive yourself. They are rarely direct, seem to take great pleasure in approaching everything from an obtuse angle. So realize that almost nothing I tell you was offered openly. But the picture is fairly clear.”
Colleen said, “They’re nervous now that the Winter Court has Katherine, aren’t they? They’re worried Ag can use Katherine in some way to bind Paul.”
“Exactly.” McGowan paced back and forth across the room. “Magreth’s actions regarding Paul are more defensive than offensive. She doesn’t feel any great need to have Paul bound to the Summer Court.”
Paul interrupted. “What do you mean by bound?”
Colleen answered him. “Take oath with a Sidhe, enter into a formal agreement, and it is binding unto your life. Break such an oath and your life is forfeit. Though they might not necessarily kill you, instead they might enslave you. If they can trick you, or coerce you into an oath, then trick you into breaking it, then you are bound in a way you cannot imagine.”
“And they’re good at structuring oaths with lots of hidden loop-holes in them to their advantage,” McGowan added. “So be careful not to agree to anything with a Sidhe.
“The one thing Magreth does want is assurance Paul won’t be bound to the Unseelie Court. She will be content if Paul is strong enough to remain a free agent. On the other hand, if he’s not, and if she can’t bind him to the Seelie Court, she’ll want him dead.”
“So she wants to look me over, see if I’m strong enough to remain unbound? That’s why we got the invitation.”
McGowan smiled and nodded. “You’re beginning to understand the rules of the game. But it’s not an invitation, though it may be couched as such, it is nevertheless a command. And she’ll be looking at much more than your own capabilities as a practitioner. She’ll also be looking at your support structure, your allies.”
“Like you and Colleen.”
“Yes, and Clark too. The Sidhe have great respect for Clark, even fear him a bit.”
Colleen nodded her agreement. Paul finished his drink, let it burn its way down his throat and warm his stomach. Devoe and his mysterious abilities were a constant revelation to Paul. “So what’s next?”
McGowan looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. You’re properly warded, and you’re carrying?” Paul nodded. “Good. Go home, get a good night’s sleep, return here first thing tomorrow. We’ll spend the day briefing you on Sidhe court etiquette. If we pass this test, we may gain a strong ally in our efforts to get Katherine back.”
~~~
Paul stepped out of the cab in front of his apartment. The sun had long ago set and clouds obscured the moon so the night was dark, though streetlamps and the background light of the city lit the street well. Paul had learned to be paranoid, looked around carefully as he paid the cabbie. He was alone on a clear and empty street.
He retrieved his key, was about to insert it into the lock on the door of his building, when a strong, male voice behind him said, “Good evening, Young Mage.”
Paul jumped and turned. At the bottom of the steps a tall, handsome man dressed in jeans, loafers and a pullover sweater stood on the sidewalk. Shadows from the streetlights obscured his face. Paul reached for his gun, but the man said, “You won’t need that. I’m not here to harm you, just to give you a message.”
Clearly the man was Sidhe, and while Paul had become reasonably adept at recognizing which Court, this one left him with the confusing impression of both Seelie and Unseelie. Paul didn’t draw the Sig from the waist holster, but kept his hand near it. He did draw power and checked his personal wards. “I’m listening.”
The man at the bottom of the steps looked up and let the streetlights illuminate his face. There was something familiar about him, but Paul couldn’t place it and he wondered, Why do they all have to be so damn beautiful? The man smiled as if he knew Paul’s thoughts. “Tell the Old Wizard,” he said, “Anogh’s oaths bind him so he must serve at the pleasure of Ag, and he may not betray the Winter Court to the Summer. But the binding is only that, and no more.”
“And from whom should I say this message came?”
“Tell the old man the Summer Knight sends his regards. But there is also a message for you, Young Mage, a private message, for you alone.”
Paul knew this Sidhe from somewhere, but if so his recollection of it was locked away in some distant memory, and try as he might he could not recall it. Paul said, “I’m still listening.”
The Sidhe’s eyes narrowed, and now he seemed almost angry. “The love for which you grieve must be avenged. And when you learn of love’s betrayal, remember this lesson . . .”
Paul waited to hear more, stood staring at the Sidhe, marveled again at how he wore beauty like a veil. Even a man could be attracted to such beauty. Paul stepped down a step, realized he was getting an erection and didn’t care. He approached the Sidhe without caution, wanted to kiss him, and not merely on the cheek, fantasized about the two of them in bed together. He touched the Sidhe’s cheek and his heart ached, fearing he would lose this beautiful man, that his desire for him would never be satisfied. At that moment he would have done anything for this incredible creature. He leaned forward to kiss him, but a wave of dizziness overcame him and he stumbled back a step, then sat down on the steps in front of his building.
He shook his head. What had he been thinking? The compelling attraction had disappeared, switched off like a light, and he recalled McGowan’s words about their ability to beguile humans. To hear it spoken of was one thing, to experience it first hand was . . .
He looked up. The Sidhe was gone, had said something as he left, though Paul had been badly distracted at the moment, something about . . . she could not have resisted him . . .
~~~
Paul slept poorly that night. He couldn’t put the encounter out of his mind, kept replaying it again ov
er and over, trying to make sense of the second message, the message for him. And too, he kept trying to remember where and when he’d encountered the Sidhe before, but it wouldn’t come to him.
The next morning when Paul stepped into McGowan’s kitchen, the old man sat at the breakfast table nursing a cup of coffee. He looked up at Paul and said, “You look like shit, kid.”
“Ya. Didn’t sleep well,” Paul said. “Had a little visit last night before I got home. Is there any more of that coffee?”
“Sure. Help yourself. Should I get Colleen in here to hear about this visit?”
“Ya, I think you should.”
Paul rummaged in the cupboards, found a mug, filled it with coffee, sat down at the table and recalled again the previous evening’s encounter. He was so engrossed, staring at the steam rising from the mug, he didn’t realize McGowan had returned with Colleen until they both sat down at the table across from him.
“Something’s disturbing you,” she said.
Paul described the encounter with the Sidhe, relayed the message for McGowan. He didn’t tell them about the second part of the message, the part meant for him. And he wasn’t about to tell them he’d gotten a hard-on for another man. Colleen asked, “You said Anok. Did he really say it that way, or did he say Anogh, with a guttural gh on the end?”
Paul nodded, “Anogh, with the guttural gh. Who’s Anogh?”
“Oh, my boy!” Colleen said. It was the first time he’d ever seen her composure slip. “Anogh is the Summer Knight, but he is bound to the Winter Court. It is rumored that about six or seven hundred years ago he fell in love with the Princess of Winter, and she with him. I believe her name was Taal’mara. They carried on a secret love affair for about a century, very Romeo and Juliet: two lovers from houses that are mortal enemies. But apparently Ag found them out, tricked Anogh into an oath, and tricked him into violating that oath, which bound him to the Winter Court for as long as Simuth, the Winter Knight, shall live. But Simuth is royal Unseelie, so he is immortal.”
McGowan added. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, Ag is not a nice guy.”
