I CAME TO SLOWLY, PAINFULLY. THE SIDE OF MY FACE ACHED, and my head felt like someone was trying to beat their way out of my skull. The light was too bright. I had to close my eyes, shield them with my hand. I drew the silk sheet across my breasts. Silk?
The bed moved, and I knew someone was with me. "I have dimmed the lights for you, Meredith."
That voice, oh Goddess. I blinked my eyes open and wished I could believe it was a dream. Taranis was propped up on one elbow beside me. The white silk sheet rode low at his waist. The hair that traced his chest was a more solid red than the sunset color of his hair. A line of hair trailed lower, and I truly did not want him to prove that he was a natural redhead.
I held the sheets to my breasts like a virgin startled on her wedding night. I thought of a dozen things to say, but finally said, "Uncle Taranis, where are we?" There, I'd reminded him that I was his niece. I wasn't panicking out loud. He'd already proven he was crazy in the lawyer's office. He'd proved it again by knocking me unconscious and bringing me here. I was going to be calm, for as long as I could.
"Now, Meredith, don't call me "Uncle." It makes me feel old."
I stared up into that handsome face, trying to see some sanity that I could reason with. He smiled down at me, looking charming and unworldly handsome, but there was no hint that what was happening was wrong, or strange. He acted as if nothing was wrong. That was more frightening than almost anything he could have done.
"All right, Taranis. Where are we?"
"My bedroom." He made a gesture, and I followed the line of his hand.
It was a room, but it was edged with flowering vines, and trees espaliered to the wall, heavy with fruit. Jewels winked and glittered among the verdant plant life. It was almost too perfect to be real. The moment I thought it, I knew I was right. It was illusion. I did not try to break it. It did not matter that he used magic to make his room look lovely. He could keep his decorating tricks to himself. Though part of me wondered how I had been so sure so soon that it wasn't real?
"Why am I in your bedroom?"
He frowned then, just a little. "I want you to be my queen."
I licked my lips, but they stayed dry. Should I try reason? "I am heir to the Unseelie throne. I cannot be both your queen and queen of the Unseelie Court."
"You never have to go back to that awful place. You can stay here with us. You were always meant to be Seelie." He leaned in, as if to kiss me again.
I couldn't help it. I recoiled from him.
He stopped, frowning again. He looked like he was thinking and it hurt. He wasn't a stupid man. I think it was just another symptom of his madness. He knew, in some part of him, that he was in the wrong, but his madness wouldn't let him see it.
"Don't you find me handsome?"
I told the truth. "You are always handsome, Uncle."
"I told you Meredith, not Uncle."
"As you like I find you handsome, Taranis."
"But you react as if I am ugly."
"Just because a man is handsome doesn't mean I want to kiss him."
"In the mirror, if your guards had not been with you, you would have come to me then."
"I remember."
"Then why do you recoil from me now?"
"I do not know." And that was the truth. Here, in the flesh, was the man who had nearly overwhelmed me numerous times from a distance with his compulsion magic. Now I was here alone, and he did nothing but frighten me.
"I am offering you everything your mother always wanted from me. I will make you queen of the Seelie Court. You will be in my bed and in my heart."
"I am not my mother. Her dreams are not mine."
"We will have a beautiful child." Again he tried to kiss me.
I sat up, and the world ran in streamers of color. Nausea made me gag. Gagging made the headache worse. I leaned off the side of the bed and was sick. Throwing up made my head feel as if it would explode. I cried with the pain of it.
Taranis came to the side of the bed. Through the ruin of my sight, I saw him hesitate. I saw the revulsion on his handsome face. It was too messy for him, too real. There would be no help from him.
I had all the symptoms of a concussion. I had to get to a human hospital, or a true healer. I needed help. I lay on the edge of the bed, my uninjured cheek resting on the silk sheet. I lay there waiting for my head to stop throbbing in time to my pulse, praying that the nausea would pass. Lying very still made it better, but I was hurt. I was hurt and I was mortal, and I wasn't sure Taranis would understand that.
He didn't touch me. He reached for a bell rope. He called servants. Fine with me. They might be sane.
I heard voices. He said, "Bring the healer."
A woman's voice. "What is wrong with the princess?"
There was the sound of a hand hitting flesh. He roared at her, "Do as you are told, wench!"
There were no more questions, but I doubted that any of the servants would ask again what had happened to me. They would know all too well.
I think I passed out again, because the next thing I knew was a cool hand on my face. I looked carefully, moving only my eyes into the woman's face. I should have known her name, but I could not think of it. She was golden of hair with eyes that were rings of blue and gray. There was a gentle air to her, as if by simply being closer to her I felt a little better.
"Do you know your name?"
I had to swallow past the bitterness of bile, but finally whispered, "I am Princess Meredith NicEssus, wielder of the hands of flesh and blood."
She smiled. "Yes, you are."
Taranis's voice came from behind her. "Heal her!"
"I must first ascertain how badly injured she is."
"The Unseelie guard went mad. He tried to kill her rather than see her go with me. They would rather have her dead than lose her."
The healer and I exchanged a look. The look was enough. She put a finger to her lips. I understood, or hoped I did. We wouldn't argue with the crazy man, not if we wanted to live. And I wanted to live. I carried our children. I would not die now.
Frost was gone, but there was a piece of him inside me, growing, alive. I would keep it that way. Goddess help me, please, help me escape in safety.
A male voice that was not Taranis spoke from behind her, "Do you smell flowers?"
"Yes," the healer said, and she gave me another look that was too knowing for comfort. She motioned at the male voice and he stepped into view. He was tall and blond and handsome, and the epitome of Seelie sidhe breeding. Except that he didn't look arrogant; he looked nervous, maybe even a little afraid. Good. I needed him not to be stupid.
I whispered, "Goddess help me."
The scent of roses was stronger. A breeze played along my bare skin, made the sheets on my legs move with the touch of it.
The guard looked toward where the breeze was coming from. The healer looked at me. She smiled, even as her eyes looked too grave for comfort. She bore a look that you never want to see on a doctor's face.
"How hurt am I?" I spoke softly and carefully.
"There may be bleeding inside your head."
"Yes," I said.
"Your eyes are equal. That is a good sign."
She meant that if one of my pupils had been fixed, I would be dying. So that was good news.
She began to mix herbs from her leather bag. I didn't know what everything was, but I knew enough of herbal medicine to caution her.
"I carry twins."
She leaned close to me and asked, "How long?"
"A month, a little more."
"There are many things I cannot give you then."
"Can you not lay hands on me?"
"No healer in this court retains that power. Is it true that some in your court do?" She whispered the last into my ear, so close her breath moved my hair.
I whispered back, "True."
"Ah," she said, and leaned back. There was a smile on her face now, and a new sense of contentment that had not been there before. The scent of roses was stronger. I half expected the strong perfume to make the nausea worse, but instead, it eased.
"Thank you, mother," I whispered.
"Would you feel better if your mother was with you?" the healer asked.
"No, absolutely no."
She nodded. "I will do my best to see that your wishes are met."
Which probably translated to my mother being insistent. She had never had much use for me, but if I were suddenly going to be queen of the court she most coveted, then she would love me. She would love me with the same power that she had hated me with for years. She was nothing if not fickle, my mother. One of my names at the Seelie Court was Besaba's Bane. Because my conception from one night of sex had condemned her to be at the Unseelie Court for years. It had been the marriage that had cemented the treaty between the courts. No one had dreamt that if neither court was breeding, a "mixed" marriage might be fertile.
The hatred and fear of the Seelie for the Unseelie showed in nothing so much as the fact that with my birth, there had not been offers from the Seelie court for more unions. They would rather die out as a people then mix with our unclean blood.
Looking into the healer's face, I wasn't certain that all the Seelie agreed with that decision. Or maybe it was the scent of roses growing stronger. All the flowers and vines of Taranis's room, and there had been no scent. It had looked pretty, but... it wasn't real. I knew in an instant of clarity that it was like much about the Seelie Court: illusion.
Illusion you could see and touch, but it was not true.
The healer stood and whispered to the guard. He took up a post beside me. Two servants came and began to clean the mess I'd made. Trust the Seelie Court to be more concerned for appearance than truth. They would clean up the mess even before I was healed, or before they were certain that I could be healed.
One of the servants had a fresh cut on her cheek and the beginnings of swelling. Her eyes were brown, and her face, though pretty, looked too human. Was she like me someone of part human parentage, or was she one of the mortals lured into faerie centuries ago? They got immortality, but if they ever left faerie all their long years would catch up with them instantly. They were more trapped than any of us, for to leave faerie was true death to them.
She gave me a frightened look as she cleaned. When I did not look away, she held my gaze. There was a moment of great fear in her face. Fear for herself, and maybe, fear for me. Fear of Taranis. Someone had said that the Cu Sith had stopped him from striking a servant. Where was the Cu Sith now?
Something scratched at the door, I did not need to see the door to know that it was something large wanting inside.
Taranis's voice. "Chase that beast away from my door."
"King Taranis," the healer said, "Princess Meredith is beyond my ability to heal."
"Heal her!"
"Many of the herbs I would use would harm the children she carries."
"Did you say children?" he asked, and he sounded almost normal, almost sane.
"She carries twins." She had simply taken my word for it. I appreciated that.
"My twins," he said, and his voice was back to that arrogant crowing. He came back to the bed, sat on it, made me bounce. The headache and nausea roared back to life. I cried out as he scooped me up in his arms. The movement was agony.
I screamed, and the sound hurt me, too.
Taranis seemed frozen by my scream, He stared down at me, almost childlike in his lack of comprehension.
"Do you want your children to die?" the healer said from beside him.
"No," he said, still frowning and confused.
"She is mortal, my king. She is fragile. You must let us take her somewhere where they can heal her, or your children will die unborn."
"But they are my children," he said, and it was more question than fact.
She looked at me, then said, "Whatever the king says is truth."
"She bears my children," he said, and he still sounded a little unsure of himself.
"Whatever the king says is truth," she repeated.
He nodded, hugging me a little more gently. "Yes, my children. Lies, all lies. I was right. I just needed the right queen." He leaned down and laid the softest of kisses on my forehead.
The scratching at the door was louder. Taranis screamed, and stood with me in his arms, "Go away, foul dog!"
The movement was too abrupt and I threw up on him. He dropped me to the bed while I was still vomiting. The brown-eyed servant girl caught me, steadied me, so I did not fall from the bed to the floor. She held me while I threw up until there was nothing but bile and bitterness. Blackness tried to swallow the world again, but the pain was too great.
I lay in the maid's arms and moaned with the pain of it. Goddess and consort, help me!
The scent of roses came like a soothing wave. The nausea eased. The pain became a duller ache instead of a blinding thing.
The brown-eyed maid and the healer began to clean me again. Most of it had gone onto the king, but not all.
"Let us help you clean up, my lord," the other maid said.
"Yes, yes, I must clean myself."
The brown-eyed maid looked up at the healer and the guard. The healer said, "Go with your fellow servant, help the king to bath. Make certain he has a long, relaxing bath."
The maid's body tensed a little, then she said, "As the healer wishes, so shall it be."
The healer directed the blond guard to take me from the woman. He hesitated.
"You are a battle-hardened warrior. Does a little sickness make you flinch?"
He scowled at her. His eyes flared with a hint of blue fire before he said, "I will do what is needed." He took me from the maid. He took me gently enough, while the healer said, "Support her head most carefully."
"I have seen head wounds before," the guard said. He did his best to keep me still. When the far door to the bathroom closed behind the king and the maids, the guard stood just as carefully with me in his arms.
The healer went for the door, and he followed without a word. The scratching at the door held whining now, and when they opened the door the Cu Sith stood there like a green pony. It gave a soft woof when it saw us.
The healer whispered, "Hush."
The dog whined, but quietly. It came to the guard's side, so that its fur brushed my bare feet. The touch of it sent a thrill through my body. I waited for my head to hurt, but it didn't. I actually felt a tiny bit better.
We stood in a long marble corridor lined with gilt-edged mirrors. There were two lines of Seelie nobles in front of those mirrors. Each man and woman had at least one faerie dog at their side. Some were the elegant greyhounds like my own poor dogs. I prayed that Minnie would be all right. She had been so still.
Some of the dogs were the huge Irish wolfhounds, as they'd been before the breed had almost died out. These were nothing that had ever mixed with other breeds. They were giants, huge fierce things, some slick of fur, some rough. The looks in their eyes had nothing to do with sight and everything to do with battle. They were war dogs fierce enough that the Romans had feared them and collected them for the arena.
Two of the ladies, and one of the men, held small white-and-red dogs in their arms. All nobles love a good lapdog.
I didn't understand why they were there, but there was again something about the presence of the dogs that calmed me. It was as if a soft voice said, "It will be all right. Do not fear, we are with you."
I recognized Hugh of the fiery hair. "How badly hurt is she?" He had a brace of the huge Irish hounds. They were tall enough to look me in the eye with room to spare as I lay in the guard's arms.
"A concussion, and she is with child. A month gone with twins."
He looked startled. "We must get her away."
The healer nodded. "Yes, we must."
The nobles with their dogs closed behind us, so that if Taranis had opened his door he would have seen a solid wall of sidhe nobles, and I would have been hidden from sight.
Did they truly mean to defy their king for me? We continued to hurry down the corridor as they spoke of treason.
A woman with hair that flowed in shades of blue and gray like sky or water spoke. It took me a moment to recognize her as Lady Elasaid. "The press secretary has already spoken to the human media."
"What did they say in answer to Queen Andais's accusations?"
"He said that we have offered the princess sanctuary after she was viciously attacked by her own guards."
"So they are telling the lies that Taranis told them," Hugh said.
Lady Elasaid nodded.
"Does the media know that he attacked us in the lawyer's office?" I asked.
They looked startled, as if they hadn't expected me to speak. I think that for them I was an object, and not quite real yet. They weren't joining my cause because they liked me or believed in me, they just believed in the magic and power I was helping bring back to faerie. I was simply the vessel for that power.
"Yes," Hugh said. "We made certain that it was leaked. They have pictures of your injured guards coming and going from the hospital."
We had come to a pair of huge white double doors. I had never seen this hallway. I had never before been honored with a trip to the king's bedroom. I hoped to never be so "honored" again.
Lady Elasaid came to my side. "Princess Meredith, I would give you my shawl to cover yourself, if you would like it." She held out a silken cloth in a brilliant green with gold designs. It matched my eyes. I looked at her, moving my eyes careful so that nothing hurt. They had a plan. I didn't know what it was, but the shawl matching my eyes said that they had one. If even my clothes were being coordinated then they had a plan.
"It would be most welcome," I said, and again my voice was soft, because I feared what my head would feel like if I spoke too loudly.
I had been healed of worse injuries in vision, but this time the Goddess seemed content to make me feel better in inches rather than all at once.
Hugh spoke as Lady Elasaid and another noble lady helped me slip on the robe. For robe it was, not shawl. "With a little persuasion from some of us, the king demanded a press conference so that he could tell his side of the story. He wanted to override the monstrous lies that the Unseelie were telling. The conference was scheduled to speak about the earlier attack in Los Angeles. But they are still here, Princess. They are now waiting for the king to speak to them about the accusation that he has kidnapped you."
"He let press into the Seelie mound," I said.
"How could he allow the Unseelie to be more progressive than we? Andais had called a conference to demand your return. He would appear guilty if he did less."
I thought I understood now why Deity had healed me only in small bits, enough to function, but not enough to be well. I needed to look hurt for the press. "Does he honestly believe what he said earlier, that he rescued me?"
"I fear so."
Lady Elasaid fastened a gold pin at the neck of the robe. "I would do your hair if there was time."
"We want her to look disheveled and injured," Hugh said.
I managed a smile at Lady Elasaid. "Thank you for the robe. I will be fine. Just get me to the press. I assume it's a live feed?"
Lady Elasaid frowned. "I do not understand."
"Yes," Hugh said. "It is live."
"Let us not linger here," the blond guard said.
"Only the king can see us here, and he no longer cares enough to use his mirrors for such things. We are safer here than in the next corridor," Hugh said.
"No one would dare spy on the king," a woman said.
So we stood in Taranis's own place of power, safe. Safe to plot behind his back. Safe from prying eyes, because they feared that he would see them, but his madness had made him blind.
I wondered who had first been bold enough figure out that the king's own inner sanctum was the place to plot treason. Whoever it was would be someone to be careful of. If you plot the overthrow of one ruler, it makes the idea easier next time. Or so it seems.
"We wanted to see how sensible you were before we told you our plan," Lady Elasaid said.
Hugh said, "Head wounds can make a person unreliable, and this is too dangerous a game to have you privy to our secrets if you will blurt them out."
"May I speak freely here?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Get me in front of the cameras and I'll play damsel in distress for you."
Hugh and several others smiled. "You do understand."
"I've been in front of the press my whole life. I understand their power."
"We made him swear a most solemn oath that he would not reveal himself to you until we were certain you would not spoil the plan if you knew him near."
I frowned at Hugh but it hurt, so I stopped. I said, "I don't understand."
There was movement near the far door, hidden by the crowd of people and dogs. The crowd moved to either side, revealing a huge black dog. Not as huge as some of the Irish hounds, but... The black dog trotted toward me, his nails clicking on the marble.
I almost whispered his name but stopped in time. I held a hand out toward him. He laid his great furred head in my hand, then there was an instant of warm mist and prickling magic. Doyle stood before me, nude and perfect. He wore the only metal that seemed to have survived the transformation, the silver earrings that peeked from the fall of his ankle-length hair. Even the tie for his hair was gone.
He was unarmed and alone inside the Seelie mound. The danger he had exposed himself to made my stomach clench tightly. In that moment I feared for him more than for myself.
He took me in his arms, and I clung to him. Clung to the feel of his skin, the strength of him. I moved my head too quickly, and a wave of nausea blurred my vision. He seemed to sense it because he moved me to lay more prone in his arms. He knelt in the white-and-gold corridor, his darkness repeated in the mirrors as he held me.
There was a glitter on his cheeks, and I saw the Darkness cry for only the second time ever.
