Seven Black Diamonds

by Melissa Marr

  The smile that came over Violet’s face was enough to make Lily shiver.

  “I think we’re onto a plan then. What do you say, LilyDark?” Violet prompted with a grim tone.

  “I don’t know that plan is the correct word, but it’s something,” Lily agreed. “I think . . . what we need is to fight like us, not like fae. You were both raised as guerrilla fighters, and I was raised to be ruthless. Proper swordplay isn’t us.”

  Violet nodded and began twisting her own hair into some sort of knot. “I’m guessing Lily’s grandmother isn’t going to be very pleased about those two . . . jerks. I can’t wait to tell her.”

  “We just need to survive long enough to do that,” Creed said.

  “True,” Lily said.

  She looked at Torquil and Creed, assessing their injuries. They weren’t anywhere near in fighting shape, but Creed only had to use his affinity.

  Torquil extended a hand to Violet. “Hold on to me until I release you. If you’re mine, I can lend you my fire.”

  “What if I’m not?” Violet asked, even as she took his hand in hers.

  “Then this will hurt,” Torquil murmured.

  For several long moments, there was no sound. Then a roar filled the cave, as if a wall of flames surged toward them. Lily looked around. There was no visible fire.

  Torquil jerked his hand away, and Violet sighed. Her eyes were solid flame, eerily flickering like she was far from human. When she opened her mouth to speak, her very exhalation was a tongue of flame.

  “Don’t,” Torquil ordered hastily.

  Violet turned her gaze on him.

  “Not to us,” he amended. “Go talk to our captors, Violet.”

  She stalked out of the cave.

  “I may have given her more than I meant to,” Torquil said half-apologetically. He stumbled as he stepped forward, and if not for Creed grabbing him, he would’ve fallen.

  “I have him,” Creed assured her. “Go.”

  But Lily was already running after Violet. She caught up with her as Violet stepped outside the cave. The stones, usually so slow to speak, were all but yelling to Lily. Go. Go. Go. Hot.

  A long whip of fire snapped out from Violet’s hand and grabbed the sword the queen had given Lily. As the sword surged toward Lily, she thought she might be stabbed by it, but the fire retracted as if it had all been inhaled into Violet’s body. The sword clattered to the ground a few feet from Lily.

  The two Seelie princes, who had been arguing, stumbled toward them. Nacton already had a sword in hand. Calder scrambled toward his.

  Lily lunged for her sword, grabbing it and coming back to her feet in as quick of a move as she could manage.

  “Are you really this foolhardy?” Nacton stalked toward her.

  Lily lifted her sword into position. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

  She studied him as he moved into a defensive guard. For several minutes, they circled, moving in response to one another. No blows were exchanged. He’d been fighting for longer than she’d lived, longer than her mother had lived.

  Lily, however, had been taught to use any resource available to survive. She wasn’t fae-born and raised. She was an Abernathy, daughter to the crime lord. As Nacton watched her, she moved through various positions, silently answering his every guard with her own. All the while, though, she summoned earth and water.

  A scream from behind her almost drew her attention, but she didn’t look away from Nacton, not this time.

  “The girl is adept,” he continued. “That scream was my brother. It’s a shame we must fight. Perhaps we could talk instead, Lilywhite.”

  Nacton’s voice grew melodic, and Lily felt herself wanting to smile, to nod, to agree.

  “Lower your sword,” Nacton suggested.

  This time, she did nod.

  However, simultaneously, she summoned every root she could call, wrapped them around Nacton, and held him fast.

  “How very lacking in honor,” Nacton murmured. “Is this how the child of the missing heir acts?”

  Another scream, louder this time, drew her attention.

  Lily glanced past him to see Calder crab-walking away from Violet. The fiery whip had reshaped into a sword, and Violet was stabbing it into Calder.

  “Vi!”

  The fury-ridden girl glanced at Lily.

  “No killing,” Lily stressed.

  Then she turned back to Nacton. A thorn-covered vine darted out at her will and snatched his sword away. He was pinned and unarmed.

  She lifted her sword to his throat, released the vines holding him fast, and asked, “You wanted to talk about honor then?”

  thirty-four

  LILY

  Nacton glared at her, and she pushed the tip of the sword a little tighter to his throat. Maybe it was unnecessary, but Daidí had always stressed that you needed your enemies to know that you were willing to shed their blood. The trickle of blood slipping down the center of Nacton’s throat wasn’t an accident. From the look on his face, they both knew that.

  “You shouldn’t have crossed me,” he said in a voice so low that no one else could’ve heard him.

  “I didn’t.”

  He tilted his head, cutting his own skin further on the sword tip in the process. “You are holding a blade on me. My blade.”

  “True,” she allowed. “But this is a response to your crossing me. I didn’t seek you out.” She slid the tip farther down his throat, trailing it in a line down the center of his chest, and stopped when it was at his sternum. “I could push this in. Puncture a lung.”

  Instead of looking cowed by her threat, he smiled. “You will be a wonderful bride.”

  Her hand shook. “I’m not flirting, you idiot. I’m threatening you.”

  Nacton shrugged.

  “You threatened me,” Lily reminded him. “You held your blade to my throat.”

  “I did.”

  Suddenly, the entirety of the vines containing Nacton erupted in fire. Her sword faltered as she jumped backward.

  At first Lily thought it was Torquil or Violet, but as the flames retracted into Nacton’s body with barely a blink, she realized what his primary affinity was. “You could’ve done that before I disarmed you.”

  “I have honor.”

  Lily lifted her sword and slashed at him. “Honor? Seriously? You are trying to marry me.”

  Nacton’s fire extended toward his fallen sword, much as Violet’s had done earlier. “The girl is from a strong bloodline,” he said calmly as his sword returned to his hand.

  When his gaze drifted to Violet, who had pinned Calder to the ground with a net of fire, Lily pulled water from the ground in a giant gush. She soaked all of them in the process, dowsing the fire on Calder, dowsing the remaining flickers in Nacton’s hands.

  He aimed his hands toward the ground, and fire raced down his sword to touch the earth. It ran along the ground until it had encircled them.

  “Earth and water. A good pair.” Nacton inclined his head toward his brother, who was motionless on the ground. “He’s air. I taught him years ago that it was useless against fire, but”—he raised his voice—“added to fire, air can be quite . . . useful.”

  Calder might be injured but he still heeded his brother’s order. The flames that Nacton had used to create a circle around them, entrapping her with him, rushed toward the sky.

  Lily clutched her sword. Fire was the least of her affinities. She couldn’t draw it to her as Violet and Nacton had both done. The earth roiled around her feet as she tried to call both earth and water again. Maybe she could smother the flames.

  She tried, pushing mud toward the wall.

  Nacton merely smiled and reinforced the fire as he knocked her sword through the wall of flames.

  Once again, Nacton was setting the rules. That wasn’t going to work, not if Lily had any chance of winning. Abernathy Commandment #5: Be bold. She didn’t want to kill, but she wasn’t willing to be taken captive again.

  Lily drew what wa
ter she could to herself, letting mud coat her legs, drawing it up her body like a cloak. Then she threw herself across the fire and rolled to grab her sword.

  As Nacton dropped the fire and stepped toward her, she lunged forward and started to sink her blade into his stomach.

  “Please do not kill my son, Lilywhite,” a man’s voice said from behind her. “I have two, but I would rather they both live.”

  Lily faltered slightly.

  Nacton was motionless. The tip of her blade was still in his stomach. He didn’t withdraw or move.

  “And you, young lady,” Leith said to Violet. “You might want to return that fire to your father. He looks weaker than I would like.”

  Violet stared at Leith, not reacting.

  Creed hobbled over to her. “Vi?”

  She looked away from Calder, but said nothing.

  “Come with me,” Creed urged gently. “We’re safe now.”

  For several tense moments, Violet was motionless, flames danced over her entire body. She glanced at Lily, asking questions Lily wasn’t entirely sure how to answer. Unlike Creed, she couldn’t force her lips to say that they were safe yet.

  “Lily?” Creed prompted. “Let him go. Tell Vi to do the same.”

  Slowly, Lily drew her sword out of Nacton’s stomach. She didn’t lower it, but she pulled back until it was no longer piercing him.

  “Vi, go with Creed,” Lily said levelly.

  Then she moved to the side so she could keep her eyes on Nacton but still see Violet and Creed.

  Violet walked away from Calder. With Creed at her side—but not touching her—she went to Torquil and kneeled beside him.

  Lily watched Violet’s hand shake as she took Torquil’s limp hand in her grasp, and for a moment they were both illuminated by fire. Then, it blinked out, and Violet swayed to the side. Creed caught her with a loud grunt of pain, and they both stood beside Torquil’s prone body.

  “Your sons really need to be leashed, husband,” Endellion remarked in a deceptively casual tone, drawing Lily’s attention to the queen. “My granddaughter—”

  “Our granddaughter, Dell,” he corrected Endellion. “The child is as much my family as yours, and you would be wise to remember it.”

  “Don’t think I am soft suddenly, husband,” Endellion said warningly. “I won’t see her treated as your sons just did.”

  “She handled herself admirably.” The king graced Lily with an approving smile.

  “No thanks to you!” Endellion dropped her hand to her sword. “She isn’t trained for—”

  “But look how well she did,” Leith interrupted. “Look at both of them.”

  Lily wasn’t sure what they were on about, but she didn’t particularly like it. Worse still, behind the King and Queen of the Hidden Throne were throngs of faeries. Rhys and Eilidh were there. He was holding Eilidh by her arm, as if preventing her from movement, and she was clearly arguing about it.

  Violet walked back over to join Lily. “Now what?”

  Lily frowned. She had no idea. “Excuse me?” she called.

  There was a bleeding Seelie prince in front of her, and another Seelie prince burned and lying on the ground. A third Seelie—one injured in Lily’s defense—was motionless beside the cave.

  And the regents were speaking together in low tones. Everyone else simply waited on what they would say next.

  Surprisingly, Zephyr ignored everyone and everything. He walked past the regents, past the Seelie princes, past Violet and Lily, to reach Creed—who stood like a guard at Torquil’s side. The fae-blood boy who had been completely focused on the queen’s will ignored everyone to check on his friend and a fae he didn’t seem to like much when they’d met.

  “He’s alive,” Zephyr called out.

  Seemingly shocked by his son’s words, Rhys released Eilidh. As he followed his sister, he paused for a fraction of a moment beside Lily and asked, “Are you well and whole?”

  “I am.”

  “Good,” Rhys pronounced. “I would be troubled by Eilidh if I had to discipline Torquil for failing you.”

  Lily smothered a smile at his grumbling. Now that she knew that he was Zephyr’s father, she could see it more fully. Both of them did what they thought best, even if it wasn’t always technically what was ordered.

  “Father?” Nacton said levelly. “Would you ask the girl to lower her blade?”

  Lily lifted her sword to his throat again. “Grandfather, would you tell your son that it’s rude to try to marry a girl without her consent?”

  Leith laughed. “You appear to have my wife’s temper, Lilywhite.”

  Violet moved closer to Lily’s side.

  Endellion’s voice was clear and loud enough for every faery there to hear her as she pronounced, “I see no harm in stabbing him again. In fact”—she lifted her own sword—“I think it’s a grand idea.”

  Leith grabbed her sword in his bare hand. “Endellion.”

  “Then get them out of here before my good mood vanishes,” she ordered.

  The King of Fire and Truth walked up to Lily and grabbed Nacton. With a nod toward Calder, he told several armed guards, “Take them. We’ll discuss this when I’m done here.”

  The two Seelie sons glared at her, appearing more like petulant children than like adult fae, but they didn’t speak as they were escorted away. No one offered them aid or checked their injuries. Of course, no one did anything about the fact that they’d kidnapped her and Violet and injured both Creed and Torquil. The two Seelie princes were simply taken away.

  There were no Abernathy commandments that seemed particularly fitting for this situation. She thought idly that she might need to start adding to the list after her encounters with the fae. Abernathy Commandments for Dealing with Fae: #1—If they try to marry you, a sharp sword is a fine reply. She smiled at the thought of the list, but then she realized that her grandparents were looking at her expectantly.

  “What?” she asked.

  Endellion’s brows both raised, either at Lily’s tone or question. Lily looked beyond her grandmother and saw myriad fae watching as if the entire situation—one that started with threats to her life and was resolved with a sword to Nacton’s throat—was a bit of entertainment.

  “Show respect, niece,” Rhys warned, and then he returned his attention to the injured. “Zephyr, go with the guards who are escorting Torquil and my sister.”

  Creed hobbled over to join Violet at Lily’s side, as two of the armed fae stepped forward to flank Zephyr, Eilidh, and Torquil.

  “The king and I are willing to make you our heir,” Endellion said, again in a clear voice that everyone there heard.

  “I’d rather not,” Lily said, just as loudly.

  Innumerable gasps filled the air.

  The king continued as if Lily hadn’t spoken. “I was concerned about the taint of your humanity, but you handle yourself better than most true fae. The queen suggests that perhaps this Nicolas person was not your actual father.”

  At that, the hold Lily had on her manners slipped away. “I can assure you that Daidí is my father.”

  She didn’t mean to tighten her grip on the hilt of her sword, but she realized she was doing so when Violet whispered, “Stop that.”

  Endellion smiled and looked pointedly at Lily’s hand and then at her face again, obviously quite aware of the reaction Lily was having. “You’ll make a fine queen.”

  “Again, no,” Lily stressed. “I won’t.”

  The Queen of Blood and Rage stepped away from the king and walked up to Lily. Violet, for reasons of fear or foolishness, did not move back. Neither did Creed. They stayed at her sides.

  “No one refuses me,” Endellion said. “Not my daughter, not my spouse, not my son . . . and not you, Granddaughter.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in being a queen.”

  “What if we offer you a trade?” Leith asked, staying where he was. “If Endellion and I were to call a cease-fire against the humans, would you be w
illing to accept your rightful place?”

  Endellion glanced back at the king in barely concealed shock. “How dare you suggest—”

  “Our daughter lived, Dell, and we have a strong healthy heir right here in front of us,” Leith said gently. “That was what we wanted, what you planned. Do you still remember? You marched into my court and announced that I would give you a child and share your throne or you’d kill me once and for all.”

  “Of course, I remember! My baby died. They took her from me—”

  “But she didn’t. They didn’t.” Leith walked over and took Endellion’s free hand. “Look at her daughter. We have what you wanted right here. We can end the war and the bloodshed. Bring the Sleepers in if they want, and we all stay here where we are meant to be—no more a part of that world. That was what we planned.”

  For a moment, Endellion tensed, and then she looked past her husband to take in the faces of the fae. Lily could already see the hope on their faces, and she knew her grandmother could too.

  “We could discuss it,” Lily said cautiously. “If you’d end the war and spare the rest of the Sleepers . . .” Her words faded as the Queen of Blood and Rage met her gaze.

  But Endellion gestured for her to continue. “What else is it that you want?”

  “I will not be married against my wishes or live here full-time,” Lily bartered.

  “Royal marriages, as with any marriage of high-ranking fae, require my approval,” Endellion said levelly, glancing pointedly at Creed. “It is not a decision you can make without my approval.”

  “Our approval,” Leith added.

  Endellion ignored him.

  “Fine,” Lily said. “But it cannot be decided without my approval either—and you can’t gain that through coercion. No blackmail, no threats, no tricks. What they just tried—”

  “Was not something I authorized or will authorize.” Endellion met Lily’s gaze. “Those two . . . wretches will never be approved to marry my granddaughter.”

  At that, Lily smiled. “Thank you.”

  The queen nodded once. “Queens, however, live with their subjects.”

  “The Hidden Lands still have a queen and a king on the throne.” Lily didn’t look away from the queen’s face as she spoke. “I have a father, duties in the other world, and school.”