Swallowing Darkness

"Why did you spare Rhys, Galen, and Mistral?" I asked.

"Rhys was once a lord of this court. He was reasonable, and we thought he would be reasonable again if he could come back to the Golden Court."

It wasn't just me that they didn't understand. "How long has it been since Rhys was a member of this court?"

Cair looked at Rhys. "Eight hundred years, maybe a little more."

"Did it occur to you that he might have changed in that many years?" I asked.

The look on her face was enough; it hadn't. "Everyone wants to be a noble in the Golden Court," she said, and she believed it. The proof was in her eyes, her face, so earnest.

"And Galen?" I asked.

"He is not a threat, and we ca

"Glad to hear it," I said. I don't think she picked up on the sarcasm. I'd found that many of the nobles missed it.

"What of Mistral?" Sholto asked.

There was a flicker of eyes, as Cair and Barris looked at each other, then at Finbar. He did not look at anyone. He kept his face and every inch of himself to himself.

"Have you set a trap for him too?" Sholto asked.

The younger ones did the nervous look. Finbar remained impassive. I didn't like either reaction. I urged the mare forward until she nudged my cousin and Barris with the width of her chest. The dogs had herded him to stand beside his would-be bride.

"Have you sent someone to kill Mistral?"

"You are going to kill me either way," Cair said.

"You are right, but we are not here for Barris tonight. I called kin slayer, and he is not our kin." I looked at the young lord. "Do you want to survive this night, Barris?"

He looked up at me, and I saw in his blue eyes the weakness that must have made a political animal like Finbar despair. He wasn't just weak, he also wasn't bright. I'd offered him a chance to survive tonight, but there would be other nights. That I vowed.

Finbar said, "Do not speak."

"The king will save you, Father, but he has no use for me."

"The Darkness is injured badly enough that he is not at her side. It must be grave. We have missed the Shadow Lord, but if the Storm Lord dies this night, then we will be rewarded."

"If Mistral dies this night, Barris, you will follow him, and soon. This I promise you." The mare shifted underneath me, uneasy.

"Even you, Barris, must know what a promise like that means when the princess sits a horse of the wild hunt," Sholto said.

Barris swallowed hard, then said, "If she breaks the promise, the hunt will destroy her."

"Yes," Sholto said, "so you had better talk while there is still time to save the Storm Lord."

His eyes with their circles of blue showed too much white like a frightened horse. One of the hounds nudged his leg, and he made a small sound that in anyone else would have been a scream. But the nobles of the Seelie Court did not scream just because a dog nudged them.

Finbar said, "Remember who you are, Barris."

He looked back at his father. "I remember who I am, Father, but you taught me that all are equal before the hunt. Did you not call it the great leveler?" Barris's voice held sorrow, or perhaps disappointment. The fear was begi

I looked at Barris, who had always seemed as perfectly arrogant as all the rest. I had never seen beyond that perfect, handsome mask. Was it the magic of the hunt that was giving me clear vision, or had I simply assumed that if you looked perfectly sidhe — tall, thin, and so perfect — you would be happy and secure? Had I truly still believed that beauty was security? That if I had only been taller, thi

I looked into Barris's face, saw all that disappointment, all that failure, because his beauty hadn't been enough to win him his father's heart.

I felt something I hadn't expected: pity.

"Help us save Mistral and you may yet keep your life. Keep silent, let him die, and I ca

Sholto looked at me, his face careful not to show surprise, but I think he'd heard that note of pity in my voice, and found it unexpected. I couldn't blame him. Barris had helped kill my grandmother, and tried to kill my lovers, my future kings, but it hadn't been him. He had been trying to please his father, and had bargained with the only asset he had, his pure sidhe blood and all that tall, u

Finbar had had nothing to bargain with with Cair except his son's pale beauty. To be accepted in the court, to have a pure-blooded sidhe lover and perhaps husband, that had been the price for Gran's life. It was the same price for which Gran had agreed to marry Uar the Cruel all those centuries ago. A chance to marry into the Golden Court — for a half human, half brownie, a once-in-a-mille

"Tell us, Barris, or you will die another night."

"Tell them," Cair said, her voice thin with fear. Which said that she didn't know what their plan was for Mistral, only that there was one.

"We found a traitor to lure him out into the open. Our archers will use cold iron arrowheads."

"Where is it to take place?" Sholto asked.

Barris told us. He confessed everything while some of the king's guards held Finbar. The King was indeed gone. He'd vanished to safety. The guards didn't hold Finbar for what he'd tried to do to me, but because his actions could be seen as acts of war against the Unseelie Court. That was a killing offense at both courts, to act without the express orders of your king or queen in such a way that it could cause war. Though part of me was certain that Taranis had agreed to the plan, although not outright. He was of a flavor of kingship to ask, "Who will rid me of this inconvenient man?" Deniability that he could take oath on. But Taranis was prey for another court, and another day.

I tried to turn my mare toward the doors and the saving of Mistral, but it shook its head. It pranced nervously, but would not move.

"We must finish here, or the hunt will not move on," Sholto said.

It took me a moment to understand, then I turned to Cair, where she stood pressed to the wall, surrounded on all sides by the great hounds. I could have used them as my weapon. They would have torn her apart for me, but I wasn't certain if I could sit through that, and it would take longer. We needed something quicker, for Mistral's sake and for my own peace of mind.

Sholto held out a spear formed of bone. Did it appear out of the air? It was one of the marks of kingship among the sluagh, but it had been lost centuries ago, long before he took the throne. It and the dagger of bone in his hand had returned with the wild magic when we had first made love.

I took the spear.

Cair began to scream, "No, Meredith, no!"

I moved the long pole until I had the weight of it. I would not throw it; there was no room and no need. "She died in my arms, Cair."

She reached out to someone behind me. "Grandfather, help me!"

His voice came, and he said what I thought he'd say, "The wild hunt ca

Cair turned back to me. "Look what she did to you and me, Meredith! She made us into things that could never be accepted by our own people."

"The wild hunt comes to my vengeance, the Goddess moves through me, the Consort comes to me in visions; I am sidhe!" I used both hands to plunge the spear downward through her thin chest. I felt the tip grate on bone, and pushed that last inch to feel the tip break out of her body, and hit empty air on her other side. With more meat on her bones it would have been harder, but there wasn't enough to her to stop that weapon and the strength of my sorrow.

Cair stared up at me, her hands grabbing at the spear, but she couldn't seem to make her hands work quite right. Her brown eyes stared up at me, as if she couldn't quite believe what was happening. I looked into those eyes, a mirror of Gran's eyes, and watched the fear fade, to leave puzzlement. Blood trickled from her lipless mouth. She tried to speak, but no words came. Her hands fell to her side. I watched her eyes begin to fade. People say that it's light that fades when humans die, but it's not; it's them. The look in their eyes that makes them who they are, that is what fades.

I jerked the spear backward, twisting it, not to cause more damage, but simply to loosen it from its sheath of flesh and bone. When the spear had come far enough back through her body, she began to fall to the floor. I just had to hold on, and the weight of her body and gravity pulled her free of it.

I looked at the bloody spear and tried to feel something, anything. I used the hem of my gown to clean the blood away, then I handed the spear back to Sholto. I would need both hands to ride.

He took the spear from me, but leaned in and gave me a gentle kiss, the tentacles brushing me gently, like hands trying to comfort me. I could not afford that comfort yet. There was work to do, and the night would fade.

I drew back from all the comfort he offered and said, "We ride."

"To save your Storm Lord," he said.

"To save the future of faerie." I turned the mare, and this time she came easily to my hand. I set my heels in her flanks, and she bounded forward in a flare of green flame and smoke. The others spilled behind me, and the glow was as white and pure as the full moon, but here and there the gold of the Seelie banquet room seemed to have absorbed into the white, so we kept that silver and gold glow. My grandfather saluted me as I rode past. I did not return the gesture. The jeweled doors opened for us.

I whispered, "Goddess, Consort, help me, help us be in time."

We rode past the great oak, and again there was that sensation of movement, but there was no summer meadow, no illusion. One moment we rode on stone, in the halls of the Seelie, the next our horses were on grass, in the night outside the faerie mounds.

Lightning cut the darkness ahead of us. Lightning not from the sky to the ground, but from the ground to the sky. I called, "Mistral!"

We rode toward the fight, rising above the grass, gaining the sky, and rushing like wind and stars toward my Storm Lord.