An Artificial Night
Page 34
“Don’t I?” he rumbled, and his magic rolled over me again. For a moment, His voice was the shaking of mountains. The moment passed, and the glamour passed with it; it’s harder to catch someone after they’ve escaped you once, even if they only made that escape by accident. Thank Oberon. “I am older than you can dream, child. All things are easy to me.”
“Actually, I doubt that,” I said. When there’s nowhere left to run, take refuge in cockiness. “I dream some pretty old dreams.”
“Do you?” His illusions were gone, and I could see him properly now. He was tall and thin, with skin streaked white and tan like ash bark, amber-colored hair, and ears that were forked like a stag’s horns. Just another fae lord, no less strange than the Luidaeg and maybe stronger than she, but not the world wearing flesh. He wasn’t a god, and I was glad. I can handle purebloods and Firstborn. I can’t handle gods.
“I want my kids back,” I said, keeping my voice steady. Even if he wasn’t a god, the Luidaeg was afraid of him, and I respected that. I respected getting out alive even more. “Give them to me, and I’ll go.”
“Your ‘kids’? You seek playmates? Come now, the best games are here. The best toys are here.” He dipped a hand behind himself, pulling out a crystal globe with a yellow swallowtail butterfly trapped inside it. The butterfly was frantic, beating its wings against the glass. “Stay.”
“I can’t,” I said, with level courtesy. “I have a job to do.”
“They thrust you into service so young? Poor thing, you’ve forgotten how to play. I can teach you. Stay.”
“No.”
“Well, then. If you’re so set—which of my new friends are ‘your kids’?”
“Stacy and Mitch Brown’s children. The children of the Court of Cats.” I paused, remembering Raj, and added, “The Hob, Helen. They’re my responsibility, and I’m not leaving without them. Give them to me, and let us go.”
Blind Michael laughed, sounding honestly amused as he tucked the crystal sphere away behind him. “Why should I?”
Good question. “Because I’m asking so nicely?”
“You’re in my lands, little girl. Why should I let you go, much less let you take any of my new family?” He kept turning his head, like he was seeing me from multiple angles. I glanced to the right and saw that the children on that side were watching me intently; they weren’t looking at their lord all. The Riders, on the other hand, were only looking at Blind Michael—I might as well not have been there. Interesting.
“Because I’m under your sister’s protection.” I held up my candle. The flame had died back to a glowing ember, but it was still burning. I tried to take comfort in that. “The Luidaeg promised me passage.”
“And passage you have had. Passage through my lands and through my consort’s wood. Now you are come to me. My pretty sister cannot guarantee your safety in my Court.”
Damn. “Because it’s no fun for you if you don’t let us go?”
“Hmmm. Almost a point, child—but you aren’t a child, are you?” He leaned forward, frowning. “You’re not mine. You should be. What are you, little girl that isn’t mine?”
“I’m here under your sister’s guardianship. Nothing else about me matters. Now let me go, and let me take my kids. You admit that I’m not yours.”
His frown deepened for an instant, becoming cold and puzzled. “You’re Amandine’s daughter, aren’t you? You are. I can smell it on you. Why are you here? She never came, and once a road is set aside, no other feet should claim it.”
“For my kids,” I repeated. I could worry about how he knew my mother later.
“Take them,” he countered. “Play a game with me, and save them if you can.”
Something in his words clicked. I straightened, hoping he wouldn’t hear the excitement in my voice. “I’m your prisoner. That’s not fair.” He was a child’s terror, and that implied a certain reliance on games. More important, it implied a dependence on being fair. Children don’t care about good or evil; all that matters is that you play fair and follow the rules. If Blind Michael followed children’s laws, he’d have to play fair with me, or winning wouldn’t count.
Root and branch, I hoped I was right. Blind Michael nodded, turning sightless eyes toward the trees. “It’s not, and games must be fair,” he said. “Shall we have a wager, then?”
“What kind of wager?” I asked cautiously. The fae may not have souls to gamble with, but there are other things that we can lose.
“My Hunters cannot see you while you hold my sister’s mark.” He gestured toward my candle. Bingo. They couldn’t focus on me directly. The children still could. That’s why he was watching me through them. “I’ll give you a head start before I loose my Hunters. If they can find you, if they can catch you, you belong to me, forever. If you can free your children . . .”
“If I can free them, you don’t follow us out of your lands.”
“Agreed. The children you have claimed can go with you, if you can escape me.”
I had to be missing something, but there wasn’t time to argue. “Deal.”
His expression sharpened. “So run, little girl, as far as your candle will take you. You have until I order my Hunt to follow, and my patience is not long.” He settled back in his throne. “Go.”
There was a rustling behind me. Turning, I saw that the children had moved aside, opening a clear path to the plains beyond the line of trees. I took off running without a backward glance, clutching the candle close to my body to shield it from the wind. Blind Michael’s Court howled and catcalled behind me, trying to break my focus. I just kept running until I was through the crowd, through the trees, and the sounds of the Court vanished behind me. I was suddenly on the plains where I’d started, surrounded by empty wasteland and miles away from my goal.
Only now Blind Michael’s entire Court knew I was here. And they would be coming after me. Just great.
TWELVE
THE LANDSCAPE HADN’T CHANGED since my arrival in Blind Michael’s lands; even my footprints were intact, marking my point of arrival. I turned to face the distant mountains. That was where Blind Michael and his Court were waiting, and that was presumably where he was holding the kids. Somehow my panicked flight had carried me back to the start of my journey, with no ground lost or gained . . . but now Blind Michael knew I was coming. I had to go back to his Court, steal my children, and escape, all without being seen.
“Actually, I doubt that,” I said. When there’s nowhere left to run, take refuge in cockiness. “I dream some pretty old dreams.”
“Do you?” His illusions were gone, and I could see him properly now. He was tall and thin, with skin streaked white and tan like ash bark, amber-colored hair, and ears that were forked like a stag’s horns. Just another fae lord, no less strange than the Luidaeg and maybe stronger than she, but not the world wearing flesh. He wasn’t a god, and I was glad. I can handle purebloods and Firstborn. I can’t handle gods.
“I want my kids back,” I said, keeping my voice steady. Even if he wasn’t a god, the Luidaeg was afraid of him, and I respected that. I respected getting out alive even more. “Give them to me, and I’ll go.”
“Your ‘kids’? You seek playmates? Come now, the best games are here. The best toys are here.” He dipped a hand behind himself, pulling out a crystal globe with a yellow swallowtail butterfly trapped inside it. The butterfly was frantic, beating its wings against the glass. “Stay.”
“I can’t,” I said, with level courtesy. “I have a job to do.”
“They thrust you into service so young? Poor thing, you’ve forgotten how to play. I can teach you. Stay.”
“No.”
“Well, then. If you’re so set—which of my new friends are ‘your kids’?”
“Stacy and Mitch Brown’s children. The children of the Court of Cats.” I paused, remembering Raj, and added, “The Hob, Helen. They’re my responsibility, and I’m not leaving without them. Give them to me, and let us go.”
Blind Michael laughed, sounding honestly amused as he tucked the crystal sphere away behind him. “Why should I?”
Good question. “Because I’m asking so nicely?”
“You’re in my lands, little girl. Why should I let you go, much less let you take any of my new family?” He kept turning his head, like he was seeing me from multiple angles. I glanced to the right and saw that the children on that side were watching me intently; they weren’t looking at their lord all. The Riders, on the other hand, were only looking at Blind Michael—I might as well not have been there. Interesting.
“Because I’m under your sister’s protection.” I held up my candle. The flame had died back to a glowing ember, but it was still burning. I tried to take comfort in that. “The Luidaeg promised me passage.”
“And passage you have had. Passage through my lands and through my consort’s wood. Now you are come to me. My pretty sister cannot guarantee your safety in my Court.”
Damn. “Because it’s no fun for you if you don’t let us go?”
“Hmmm. Almost a point, child—but you aren’t a child, are you?” He leaned forward, frowning. “You’re not mine. You should be. What are you, little girl that isn’t mine?”
“I’m here under your sister’s guardianship. Nothing else about me matters. Now let me go, and let me take my kids. You admit that I’m not yours.”
His frown deepened for an instant, becoming cold and puzzled. “You’re Amandine’s daughter, aren’t you? You are. I can smell it on you. Why are you here? She never came, and once a road is set aside, no other feet should claim it.”
“For my kids,” I repeated. I could worry about how he knew my mother later.
“Take them,” he countered. “Play a game with me, and save them if you can.”
Something in his words clicked. I straightened, hoping he wouldn’t hear the excitement in my voice. “I’m your prisoner. That’s not fair.” He was a child’s terror, and that implied a certain reliance on games. More important, it implied a dependence on being fair. Children don’t care about good or evil; all that matters is that you play fair and follow the rules. If Blind Michael followed children’s laws, he’d have to play fair with me, or winning wouldn’t count.
Root and branch, I hoped I was right. Blind Michael nodded, turning sightless eyes toward the trees. “It’s not, and games must be fair,” he said. “Shall we have a wager, then?”
“What kind of wager?” I asked cautiously. The fae may not have souls to gamble with, but there are other things that we can lose.
“My Hunters cannot see you while you hold my sister’s mark.” He gestured toward my candle. Bingo. They couldn’t focus on me directly. The children still could. That’s why he was watching me through them. “I’ll give you a head start before I loose my Hunters. If they can find you, if they can catch you, you belong to me, forever. If you can free your children . . .”
“If I can free them, you don’t follow us out of your lands.”
“Agreed. The children you have claimed can go with you, if you can escape me.”
I had to be missing something, but there wasn’t time to argue. “Deal.”
His expression sharpened. “So run, little girl, as far as your candle will take you. You have until I order my Hunt to follow, and my patience is not long.” He settled back in his throne. “Go.”
There was a rustling behind me. Turning, I saw that the children had moved aside, opening a clear path to the plains beyond the line of trees. I took off running without a backward glance, clutching the candle close to my body to shield it from the wind. Blind Michael’s Court howled and catcalled behind me, trying to break my focus. I just kept running until I was through the crowd, through the trees, and the sounds of the Court vanished behind me. I was suddenly on the plains where I’d started, surrounded by empty wasteland and miles away from my goal.
Only now Blind Michael’s entire Court knew I was here. And they would be coming after me. Just great.
TWELVE
THE LANDSCAPE HADN’T CHANGED since my arrival in Blind Michael’s lands; even my footprints were intact, marking my point of arrival. I turned to face the distant mountains. That was where Blind Michael and his Court were waiting, and that was presumably where he was holding the kids. Somehow my panicked flight had carried me back to the start of my journey, with no ground lost or gained . . . but now Blind Michael knew I was coming. I had to go back to his Court, steal my children, and escape, all without being seen.
