Fragile Eternity

In a blur of feather and limbs, she kicked and punched and stabbed several guards. She stopped then, as suddenly as she’d begun to move. Most of the guards were coming to their feet; some were battered but still standing. One wasn’t moving.

Bananach looked at the sky. “It grows late, and I have others to see. My king will expect me to come soon.”

And with that, the war faery left them in the park reeling in disorder and panic.

Keenan. Niall. Donia. Where was she going? War. Aisli

She was in love; she was loved; and she was part of something incredible. Many mortals and faeries were. All of that would be destroyed if there was a war. With no worry over the consequences of angering other courts, with no restraints, with rulers and guards too busy to respond to small indiscretions…aside from the reclusive High Court, the mortal and faery worlds would be dealing with two—or possibly three—Faerie courts in opposition, as well as solitaries who’d no doubt take advantage of the chaos. Aisli

She needed to hear his voice; she needed to hear him tell her he forgave her. They’d had a lot against them, but they could work past it. They had so far. He was the cord that kept her together. His faith gave her strength when she thought she couldn’t bear up under a challenge; that was the core of what made him irreplaceable. The passion and the romance were incredible, but the center of it was that he made her want to be a better person. He made her believe she could do the impossible. She could, with him in her life. They’d only been officially together a few months, but she knew he was the only one she’d ever love like this. He was it, her forever.

She called him again—and still had no answer. She left another voice mail, “Call me. Please? I love you.”

With a glance around the park, she found the rowans on duty, saw them collecting their faeries and steering them toward the loft. They were efficient even in their injured state.

She called Keenan and said, “I met Bananach…. We are mostly uninjured, but I need you to come home. Now.”

Chapter 18

With effort, Seth ignored both Aisli

Niall set down his cup. “She’s unreachable to mortals. Hidden.”

“Right, I’ve heard that. Where?” Seth kept his voice fairly steady, but he knew that his irritation was obvious to Niall. “Just take me to her.”

“No.”

“Niall—”

“No.” The Dark King shook his head, stood, and left.

Seth stared at the door in irritation. Aisli

He flicked open his cell and pressed number six. One of the Scrimshaw Sisters answered the Winter Queen’s phone. “Mortal?”

Seth shivered at the husk-dry voice. “Can I speak to Donia?” he asked.

“Not tonight.”

He closed his eyes. “When?”

“She’s busy. I’ll take your message.”

“Ask her to call me?” He began collecting his folklore books—including volumes he’d acquired from Donia and Niall. “Whenever she can?”

“The message will be conveyed,” the Scrimshaw Sister rasped. “Good-bye, mortal.”

Seth grabbed a legal pad from his bin of miscellaneous things and sat down in the middle of the stacks of books. “Research, it is.”

When the phone rang several hours later, Seth scrambled for it, hoping it was Donia. It wasn’t. But he hoped, against logic, that it might be help when he saw Niall’s number.

Instead, the Dark King reiterated, “It’s a mistake.”

“It’s not.” Seth hung up on him. He didn’t want to hear what anyone else thought. He didn’t want to hear Aisli

He just needed to figure out how to find Sorcha and then convince the High Queen to help him.

No problem. Seth scowled. He could just imagine she’d be willing to pass that gift out without hesitation. Sure, I’ll give you eternity, little mortal.

He looked at the books he’d searched and found useless. He looked at the few notes he’d made. Reclusive. Logical. Does not mingle with the other courts. Devlin. It wasn’t helpful.

His careful control of his temper slid away. He stood and swept everything from the counter. It was a satisfying clatter.

Better than meditating.

He was in love, healthy, had plenty of money, a friend who was like a brother…but because he was mortal, he could lose it all. Without her, he’d have to sever ties with all faeries. There would be no more riverside concerts. There would be no more magic. He’d still have the Sight: he’d see everything that he couldn’t actually have. Losing Aisli

If she left him, it didn’t matter if he was healthy. And if she didn’t leave him, he wasn’t strong enough to be in her life and be safe. And even if he was strong enough, he’d grow old and die and she’d move on.

The books were all over the room. None of them had answers.

Everything is wrong.

He walked into the kitchen.

It’s useless.

Every dish he owned, except the two teacups and the teapot Aisli

Come evening, Seth had cleaned away the evidence of his loss of temper. He’d reordered the house and his feelings. Being without her wasn’t something he wanted to even consider. There had to be an answer—but he didn’t have one.

He’d find it, though. He wasn’t going to lose everything.

Not now. Not ever.

He sent Aisli

So when one of the court guards knocked on the door to ask if Seth was staying in or going out, Seth said, “Go home, Skelley.”

“You sure you don’t want to go grab a drink? Or we could come inside…not for long, but in shifts…”

“Space, man. That’s what I need tonight,” Seth said.

Skelley nodded. He stood there for a moment longer, though. “The girls didn’t mean harm. They just”—he paused as if the words he needed weren’t quite familiar—“are fond of you. It’s like your serpent.”

“Like Boomer?”

“He makes you happy by his presence?”

“Yeah.” Seth cracked a grin at that. “Boomer being here makes me happy.”

“You make the girls happy with your presence.” Skelley looked so earnest that it was hard to find him anything but kind as he stood in the iron-heavy railroad yard, even though he likened Seth to a pet snake. “They were worried you’d go away like Niall did.”