A Thief of Nightshade (31 page)

And like emerging from the depths of a lake, she woke up coughing and grasping for air.

“It’s all right. Breathe. Take a deep breath.” An elderly Fae sat at her left while Aislinn hovered over her from the right. She was in bed, covered with heavy blankets.

Aubrey, still fighting to calm down, looked at Given, who had appeared in a doorway at the far end of the room. “You went for help.”

Given nodded as she approached the bed. “This is Oberon. He went after you, into the soul portal.”

Oberon smiled and Aubrey noted the slight movement of his silvery wings. He dipped his head. “Given told me the moment she heard rumors of your arrival and I should have listened to her sooner. I had feared to hope. But I fear no more. I meant every word I said to you.”

Given sat down but seemed fearful of something. “I’m sorry, Aubrey. I hated to deceive you, but I knew you’d never trust me if you knew who I was.”

Aubrey asked, “What do you mean?”

Oberon spoke before Given could.

“Given is Saralia’s daughter, my niece. I took her as my own when she was still a young child, though not so young as to avoid her mother’s viciousness.”

Given spoke then and it made Aubrey’s heart hurt to hear it. “I was sent to work as a slave to the Sidhe when I turned five. I don’t remember much before that, but I know I was in the palace. It was six years before I found a way to escape.”

Oberon smiled with sadness in his eyes. “I was told by a member of my guard that a child was found hiding in the woods, covered in blood and refusing to leave the tree root she was hiding in. And I knew it had to be Given. So I went and waited her out until she grew too hungry and too thirsty to ignore my coaxing.

Stubborn little thing, she was ... still is.

Given finally passed out and I carried her back to Agincourt in my arms. She woke up just as we entered court.”

“I knew something was different about you,” Aubrey said.

“You aren’t mad at me?”

Aubrey’s eyes softened. “No.”

Given seemed relieved, but held herself oddly. She looked stiff and uncomfortable and it had nothing at all to do with what they were discussing.

“The wounds. They’ve worsened.”

Aubrey sat up.

“It’s all right. I’m more concerned with how you’re feeling.”

Aislinn nudged her with his wet nose. “I guessed right about your brother. I almost said Brooke, but...”

Aubrey narrowed her eyes. “Who is Brooke?”

THE NIGHT SKY OVER AGINCOURT WAS A
swath of black velvet with a million tiny holes poked into it, a bright and blazing light beyond. Aubrey sat in an outdoor dining hall, Oberon to her left, Aislinn to her right. If she’d ever beheld something so wonderful before, the lessening had left no trace of it. Given, who sat across from her, had changed clothes; her hair was swept partially into a stunning silver clasp, her dress that of a true princess— deep blue and sparkling with diamonds, embroidered with the finest thread. She wore an elegant silver crown that dipped down to a point at the center. She’d offered Aubrey similar attire, but Aubrey didn’t feel befitting of a gown like that.

Given had gathered a simpler dress of dark green velvet that was still more elaborate than anything Aubrey could ever recall wearing and convinced her it would do just fine.

The tables were thick trees, cut in half and sanded to a fine surface. Their seats were fashioned of branches and twine. It was everything she’d ever imagined a faerie kingdom to be. Music played from somewhere in the recesses of the night. Fae laughter abounded and she was greeted as though she were an honored guest and not some outsider who didn’t belong. And all the while, she could think of only one thing—Jullian.

Lipsey, who’d spent more than a few minutes telling Aubrey all about his treacherous journey and his new friend Oberon, had fallen asleep on Oberon’s shoulder and was snoring. Oberon stood, careful not to wake the little squirrel. “I am far too old for such late revelries and it looks like I’m not the only one. I’m taking him with me. I have the perfect place for him to sleep. Fair night, children.” He turned, his guards trailing in his wake, and left the courtyard.

Aislinn, who hadn’t been offended by a single course offered yet, accepted a dessert from a tall, wispy, red-haired Fae.

“You haven’t eaten much,” he said to Aubrey, digging in.

She played with the napkin in her lap. “Did he really dislike lima beans?”

Aislinn

swallowed

awkwardly,

having shoved far too much in to begin with. “Who?”

“Jullian. He told me once that he’d never liked lima beans.”

“Now that you mention it, yes, he hated lima beans.” Aislinn chuckled, perhaps

an

inside

joke

or

brief

recollection passing through his mind.

“What was he like when he was here?” Aubrey asked.

“He’s always been gifted at the arts,”

Aislinn said. “Not all humans are born with the ability to work magic, you know.

I can’t work a spell to tie my shoes, let alone anything that matters. In fact, Jullian was so good that he used to get into constant trouble with our tutors for it.

He’d have great fun at their expense.”

Aubrey smiled, thinking back on all the things he might have accomplished in her world by means of magic and wondered how much of it she had been unaware of.

Aislinn continued, “Jullian was the respectful

gentleman

in

most

circumstances, but he’s just as strong physically as he looks, or looked, rather.”

He grew quiet for a moment. “I haven’t seen him in ten years. I mean, I saw through his eyes, but that isn’t the same. I didn’t see him.”

Jullian wasn’t the type to work out a lot or care about his appearance any more than making sure he looked presentable, but he’d never really needed to. He and his brother were both substantial in size and build. “He did like to go running sometimes if I went with him,” Aubrey offered.

“Yet another thing we don’t share.

There isn’t much that could convince me to run. Anywhere.”

Given smiled and started to say something, but a grimace stole whatever words she had poised on her tongue.

Before Aubrey could ask, Given waved Aubrey’s concerns aside.

“Jullian rescued me,” Aislinn said, “from more than a few perilous situations.

These situations usually involved me not acting like such a respectful gentleman. It didn’t surprise me in the least to learn that he’d punched your brother. Grant is lucky that’s all he did.”

Aubrey felt like that day had just passed. She could still feel his muscles tense as he held her. She’d never seen him truly angry. Then, she remembered something. “We went to a fair once where everyone was dressed in medieval stuff.”

Upon seeing the blank look on all their faces, she clarified, “Knights and kings and princesses. Long story, anyway, Jullian picked up this huge sword like he’d owned it all his life. I couldn’t hold it, it was so heavy and he spun it around in two hands like he knew what he was doing. He just grinned when I asked him.

He did that a lot, avoided my questions with that charming smile of his.”

“We were taught weaponry and warfare, though the wars between the differing kingdoms of Man were before our time. There would still be a scuffle from time to time between various lords and such and being the instigator that I am, I would get us involved, much to Jullian’s chagrin. Jullian held his own with a sword. He was awful at archery though.

Just awful.” Aislinn’s playful features fell serious. “But he was always there for me.

And we won’t talk about how many times he pulled Merrial out of a gutter.”

“Merrial?” Given asked.

“My beloved wife, bearer of my children, crowning glory of my youth and my first love. Oh ... and vile adulteress, betrayer and nightshade addict.” He laughed. “Almost forgot that last part.”

“I’m so sorry,” Given said sincerely.

“Don’t be. Jullian warned me.”

Aislinn turned to Aubrey. “He was carefree before we learned the truth of things. But, despite his relaxed manner, he was still so certain. Committed. He never started anything without finishing it. Loyal, selfless, a dreadful speller, horrible singer—truly couldn’t carry a note— unlike yours truly, of course. I could woo the masses with my enchanting voice.”

While he spoke, Aubrey laughed hard. This was true and had been the source of much amusement for her brother Harry. She could remember countless nights when Jullian had asked her to sing to him. She’d never considered herself talented, but he did.

“He loves music, though,” Aubrey said.

“That he does. We used to sneak out of our rooms as children and spy on the grown-ups while they had their grand dinner parties. Jullian would always stay up later than me, just listening to the music. It was good music, but oh, the food.” He leaned down and whispered to Aubrey, “Someone else I know loves music, but she can carry a tune, whether she’ll admit it or not.”

What she wouldn’t give to go back and appease Jullian, all those times he’d begged to hear her and she’d said no. And though she’d known how deep his love for music was, somehow hearing it from someone else—his own flesh and blood— made her feel honored that he would request such a thing of her, such a plain and simple girl. When he’d had any song and any voice at his easy disposal, it was her voice he’d desired.

“His favorite song was Scarborough Fair,” Aubrey murmured.

“Was that what you were singing in the garden that night?” Aislinn asked.

She nodded.

“It’s a sad song.” Aislinn looked away briefly. “‘Remember me,’ those are the only words I can recall.”

“‘Remember me to one who lives there; he once was a true love of mine.’ It is an old song in my world, a very old one. It was said to have been originally sung by a man, not a woman. But, the singer is asking that all of these impossible tasks be done in order to become once again, ‘a true love of mine.’

I don’t know what the herbs are part of the song for. I assume they grow here as well–parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.”

Given smiled, “They do and that particular combination is a love charm. In Agincourt, we crush them fresh and tie them in a small pouch for brides-to-be.

She might tuck it into her pillow at night or wear it around her neck during the day of the wedding. It is said to bring luck to those in love and ward off dark magic.”

Aubrey had never given the song much thought. She’d learned it when she was in the choir at Darlington. “Does it work?” she asked.

Given nodded. “Actually, yes. There are some spells that won’t work if the person whom the spell is intended for is wearing certain charms.”

“We call that superstition where I come from because there aren’t spells or dark magic to ward off.”

“But they still practice the art of charms and wards?” Given asked. “My uncle has spoken of worlds where the Lyr once existed, but is there no longer.

Perhaps your world is one of them?”

Aubrey couldn’t imagine it. Then again, she’d seen an awful lot lately that she couldn’t have imagined at one time.

“Perhaps.”

“I see that everything has turned out well for our guests.” A tall, handsome Fae, wearing a red sash at his waist and a leather vest, came up behind Given and placed a hand possessively on her shoulder.

Given didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture in the least. She pried his fingers loose. “Aubrielle this is Ian, a friend and sworn Griffin in my uncle’s army.”

The way she’d emphasized the word ‘friend’ and Ian’s subsequent expression gave Aubrey the impression that Ian perhaps wanted more than her friendship.

“It’s a pleasure, Ian,” Aubrey said.

“I’m quite well, thanks to Oberon.”

“I’m so happy to hear it,” Ian said with forced sweetness. “His Majesty,”

said with obvious disdain for the casual manner with which Aubrey had referred to him, “tells me that tomorrow you intend to depart for the Winter Court?”

Aislinn swallowed the huge bite of cake he’d just put into his mouth with a grimace, likely under-chewed. “Let me guess, you think it’s a fabulous idea and want to wish us the very best of luck.

Wait, no, maybe I’ve got that backwards —you think it’s a ridiculous idea and want to warn us of the thin ice we’re treading?

Or maybe—” Before Aislinn could finish, Given spoke.

“The masquerade is tomorrow night.

If we leave at dawn we’ll make it in time.”

Ian appeared horror-struck. “What do you mean, we?”

Given pivoted in her chair to face him. “I’m going with them. Aubrey won’t know where she’s going and Aislinn won’t blend in for obvious reasons.”

“I suggested to his Majesty that I accompany them. As my escort alone is more than sufficient, you won’t be going anywhere. If you so much as step foot in the Winter Court, it would mean your death. There is still a price on your head.”