A Kiss of Shadows

I couldn't read all the thoughts moving across Sholto's face, but there were a lot of them. I tried to ask the question he would not answer for Doyle. "Did the queen herself tell you to come to Los Angeles and kill me?"

Sholto looked at me. It was a long, considering look, but finally he shook his head. "No," he said.

"Who told you to come to Los Angeles and slay the princess?" Doyle asked.

Sholto opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. The tension flowed out of him, and he stepped back from Doyle, lowering the sword to his side. "No, I will keep the name of the traitor to myself for now."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because Doyle's presence here can mean only one thing. The queen wants you to return to court." He looked at Doyle. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"Yes," Doyle said.

"She wants me to return to court?"

Doyle moved so he could see both Sholto and me, his back to the empty bathroom stalls. "Yes, Princess."

I shook my head. "I left because people were trying to kill me, Doyle. The queen wasn't stopping them."

"They were legal duels," he said.

"They were court-sanctioned assassination attempts," I said.

"I did mention this to her," Doyle said.

"And she said what?"

"She gave me her mark to give to you. If anyone kills you now, even in a duel, they will have to face our queen's vengeance. Trust in this, Princess: even those who desire your death greatly will not want to pay that high a price for it."

I looked up at Sholto, the movement made me slightly dizzy. Shock, definitely shock. "Fine, I'm going back to court, if the queen can guarantee my safety. What does that have to do with you not giving us the name of the traitor? Who used the queen's name to send you to execute me, when she didn't want me dead?"

"I will keep that information to myself for now," Sholto said again. His face was that arrogant mask that he wore so often at court.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because if the queen allows you back to court, you don't need to bargain with me. You will be able to return to faerie, to the Unseelie Court, and I would bet my kingdom that she'll find you another sidhe lover. So, you see, Meredith, you don't need me. You'll have everything I could have offered you, and you won't be tied for a lifetime to a deformed monster."

"You're not deformed, Sholto. If your hags hadn't interrupted, I'd have proved that to you."

Something flickered over his face, rippling on the surface of his arrogance. "Yes, my hags." He turned those tri-yellow eyes on me. "I thought you had no hand of power, Meredith."

"I don't," I said.

"I think Nerys would argue with you on that."

"I didn't know, Sholto, I didn't mean to..." I had no words for what I'd done to Nerys.

"What has happened?" Doyle asked.

"Black Agnes lied to the sluagh. She told them that if I mated with Meredith that I would become pure sidhe, and no longer be their king. She convinced them that they were protecting me from myself, protecting me from the wiles of the sidhe witch."

I raised eyebrows at that.

He looked at me. "But I have persuaded Agnes and the rest that you are not a danger to them."

I met his eyes. "I saw the method of persuasion before I ran."

He nodded. "Agnes said to thank you-she's never had better from me. She thinks it has something to do with your magic."

"She's not angry about Nerys? "I asked.

"She wants you dead, yes, but she's afraid of you now, Meredith. The hand of flesh like your father-who would have dreamed it?" There was something in his eyes besides careful arrogance. I realized with a start that it was fear. Fear peeking through his mask. It wasn't just Black Agnes who was afraid of what I'd done up in that room.

"Hand of flesh," Doyle repeated. "What are you saying, Sholto?"

Sholto held the sword out to Doyle, hilt first. "Take this, and come up to my room and see what our little princess has done. Nerys ca

With a small bow of his head, Doyle took the sword. "If it is a favor you need, then I am happy to oblige for the name of the traitor that sent you to Los Angeles falsely in the queen's name."

Sholto shook his head. "I will not give up the name, not now. I will hold it until it is of use to me, or until I decide to deal with the traitor personally."

"If you told us the traitor's name, it would help us keep the princess safe at court."

Sholto laughed then, that strange bitter sound that passed for normal laughter for him. "I will not say who sent me here, but I can guess who wanted the message given, and so can you. Meredith fled the court because Prince Cel's supporters kept challenging her to duels. If it had been anyone else behind the attempts on Meredith's life, the queen would have stepped in and stopped it. Such an insult to the royal family would not have been allowed, not even to a mixed-breed magicless mortal. But it was her precious baby boy who was behind it, and we all knew it. So Meredith fled, and hid herself away, because she didn't trust the queen to keep her alive when Cel wanted her dead."

Doyle met those accusing eyes with a tranquil face. "I think you will find that our queen is no longer so tolerant of the prince's... eccentricities."

Sholto laughed again, and it was a painful sound. "When I left the court only days ago, I'd say she was still very tolerant of Cel's... eccentricities."

Doyle's face was still peaceful, as if nothing the other man could do would upset him. I think that bothered Sholto more than any other reaction that Doyle could have given him. I think Doyle knew that. "One problem at a time, Sholto. For now I have the queen's promise, and her magic, to ensure that the princess will not be harmed at court."

"As you wish to believe, Doyle, but for now I would ask you to aid me in bringing death to one that I valued."

Doyle stood easily, as if he hadn't been nearly strangled to death moments ago. I wasn't even sure I could stand. There is more than just immortality that I miss by taking after my human blood.

They both reached out to me at the same time, and I took both hands. They nearly pulled me off my feet. "Easy does it, boys. I just need help standing, not flying."

Doyle looked at me. "You are pale. How badly are you hurt?"

I shook my head and pulled away from them both. "Not that badly. It's mostly shock, and... it hurt when I... did what I did to Nerys."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Come see," Sholto said. "It is worth a look, or three." He looked at me then. "The news of what you have done will ride before you to the court, Meredith. Meredith, Princess of Flesh, no longer merely Essus's daughter."

"It is very rare for a child to receive the same gifts as the parent," Doyle said.

Sholto walked toward the door, tying the grey trench coat in place as he moved. Blood soaked into the cloth where the cut tentacle pressed against it. "Come, Doyle, Bearer of the Painful Flame, Baron Sweet-tongue, come and see what you think of Meredith's gifts."

I was familiar with the first title, but not the second. I asked, "Baron Sweet-tongue - I've never heard you called that."

"It is a very old nickname," he said.

"Come, Doyle, you are too modest. It was the queen's pet name for him, once."

The two men looked at each other, and again there was a weight of old grudge in the air. "The name is not for what you assume, Sholto," Doyle said.

"I assume nothing, but I think the sobriquet speaks for itself. Don't you, Meredith?"

"Baron Sweet-tongue does have a certain ambiance," I said.

"It is not for what you think," Doyle repeated.