A Trace of Moonlight (17 page)

The fox-woman shrugged. “It was not always that way, though I have felt the brunt of her wrath more than once.”

An understatement if I’d ever heard it, but most of the denizens of the Barras had felt the Faery Queen’s high-handedness in one form of another. Two hundred years was a long time to live in exile.

My father said nothing, which wasn’t particularly reassuring, but Talivar nodded. “I will go. To alert
them of the changes here, if nothing else. Family notwithstanding, I suspect Moira’s request for council may alter somewhat once she discovers the situation.”

Thomas’s expression became wistful. “For what it’s worth, lad, you have my support.” His attention fell on me. “You both do.”

There might have been a hidden meaning behind those words, but it was too little and far too late. I chewed on my lip. No real help for it. Talivar was going to need his freedom more than he needed to be TouchStoned to me . . . until my geas was lifted, anyway.

“I release you,” I murmured, feeling the bond between us snap with a surprised twang. The elf jerked back, startled.

“What did you do that for?” Hurt flashed in his gaze.

“You need to be a king, Talivar. You can’t do that if you’re chained here with me. At least this way you can travel the CrossRoads without being subjected to my issues.”

His mouth compressed into a thin line but he nodded sharply. I had the feeling we’d be discussing it later, but at the moment, even he had to agree it made the most sense.

Kitsune watched the entire exchange with a curious expression. “And what would you have us do with the Steward, my King? Should he become a guest of the Unseelie Court after all this time?”

Talivar grunted an assent. “Let him stay here. He’s served Faerie long and loyally these many years—I would not see that wisdom go unused.” The elf king bowed elegantly to us. “I’ve some preparations to make, if you will excuse me?” Without another word he ducked out of the tent. I stared at the spot where
he’d been, unsure if I was hurt or relieved he was gone.

“Awkward . . .” Phineas muttered. “Well played, Abby.”

“What choice did I have?” I avoided looking at Kitsune. I was in no mood for discussions about destiny or red thread or any of it.

“There’s always a choice,” Kitsune murmured. “He needs to make these first few decisions on his own—or he’ll spend the rest of his reign questioning everything he does.”

An odd smile crossed her face as she turned to Thomas. “I’ll admit the irony of hosting you here is somewhat disturbing, but I’ll have a tent set up.”

“No stranger than for me,” he admitted wryly. “And I’m grateful for your hospitality, circumstances being what they are.”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken history. I wanted no part of it.

A hint of my uneasiness must have shown on my face. Phineas shook out his mane. “I’ll get him settled, Abby,” he said softly. “We’ll play chess or something.”

“All right.” I gathered myself to my feet, uncertain of where I was supposed to go next. “Guess I’ll leave you guys to it.” I left the tent without looking back. Which was probably fairly rude, given what had just transpired, but what else was there to say?

“Jesus, I’m so tired of this.”

Simple.

I wanted things to be simple again. I wanted to go home and hang with my friends. I wasn’t one for shirking my responsibilities, but it felt as though I was hurtling off the cliff so fast I’d end up road pizza in a hot second if I didn’t learn to grow wings.

I ducked down two different rows of tents, catching
a few stray glances from a gaggle of goblin women, but I was too caught up in my own inner wallowing to pay much attention. I didn’t want to head to my own tent, and certainly not to Talivar’s. He had enough on his plate without suffering through another bout of my whining. Besides, he had bigger things to worry about.

Restless, I had the sudden urge to test the boundaries of my geas. I knew the Queen’s warning should have been enough . . . but not even Talivar had really told me what the effect would be. Only that it should be avoided.

Fuck it. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he said? Kitsune always traveled with a portable Door of sorts. Last time it had been on the outskirts of the Lower Crescent.

The bells in my hair mocked me with a solitary chime but I told them to shush. Stubborn thing that I was.

I crisscrossed my way through the Hive, heading for of the Lower Crescent. My shoulders crawled with the feeling that someone was watching me. Not that I could really tell. The Barras was in full swing—a brass band could have swept through and attracted no more notice than a fly at the rate things were going.

“Abby?” I whipped around to see Sonja beckoning me from between a set of tents, her scarlet wings shifting nervously.

Relief shot through me. To see a familiar face was beyond welcome. Even if I’d spoken to her the night before in the Dreaming, flesh and blood was an entirely different thing. She was the first outside friend I’d seen since all this other crap began.

I hugged her hard, falling into her arms as she
embraced me, a question burning on my tongue. “Where’s Ion?”

She exhaled sharply and pulled back, her expression troubled. “He doesn’t want you to see him yet.”

“See him? I don’t understand.” I cocked a brow at her, my arms crossing. “You know, I’m really getting tired of people leaving me out of the loop.”

“It’s complicated.” The bells in my hair jingled mockingly. Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t realize those were anything more than a dream.”

“Yeah, well, life is odd that way.” I reached up and touched them. “So why are you here, then?”

“I wanted to make sure you were truly alive . . . Ion insisted.”

“You’d think he might check on me directly.” I swallowed the hurt, trying not to be too disappointed. My mouth quirked. “Did I mention I was sort of married now?”

The color drained from her face. “You’re
what
?”

“Handfasted, I guess. To Talivar. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” I rubbed the sudden rush of goose bumps rippling over my arm. “He’s King here now, by the way.”

“You don’t say,” she muttered. “Just how powerful is that geas you’re under?”

“I don’t know . . . Talivar got a taste of it because we were TouchStoned. Although we’re not anymore,” I amended. “He said it was pretty bad, but I was going to test it out myself. Right now, in fact.”

“Think I’ll tag along. The only way we’ll be able to figure out how to break it is to get an idea of how it’s put together.”

She fell into step behind me, lost in her own thoughts as we meandered through the Lower Crescent.
Her wings attracted little attention, but there did arise a few suspicious murmurs from the occasional cluster of Fae. I suppose it might look bad for me to be consorting with daemons given the current political situation, but I wasn’t going to turn down help from a friend, regardless of her Path.

Besides, she was my only real link with Brystion. And I could trust her.

My nostrils flared as I approached the bamboo frame of the Door, my stomach fluttering. My inner voice questioned my sanity for attempting this, but I couldn’t see letting it go without knowing for sure what would happen. I stared at the frame for a few moments. Based on Talivar’s explanation, I half expected to be rolling on the ground by now, but other than the tingle of anticipation beneath my skin, I couldn’t detect any difference.

“Going somewhere?” Nobu stepped around the far side of the Door. His own wings ruffled in the breeze as he cocked his head at me, his gaze lingering on Sonja.

The succubus held her ground. “You keep rather interesting company, Abby.”

“You know me. I’m a magnet for assholes.” My eyes narrowed at Nobu. “And it’s none of your business as to where I’m going. I don’t belong to you.”

He shrugged. “As you say. I no longer have a vested interest in anything you do.”

“Really? None at all? Not even for the sake of the Tithe?”

“None whatsoever,” he said pleasantly. “My curiosity in that department has been well sated. Leave or stay, it’s all the same to me.”

“I don’t understand. What about our bargain?” His tone was fairly convincing, but there was something he
wasn’t telling me. As much as I didn’t want to be the Tithe anymore, there was
no
way he would ever let me out of it so easily.

His wings flared out in a menacing fashion, a hint of displeasure snapping through his dark eyes. “Our bargain, as you so quaintly put it, indicated you would be the Tithe, true enough . . . but more specifically it was under the assumption that you had the Key. Without it, any old mortal would do.”

I blinked beneath the coldness of his tone. “So why not take me anyway?”

“Because I need the Keybearer to—” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that the Key is now in the possession of Maurice and I don’t need you anymore.”

Sonja crossed her arms. “The way I heard it, he’s been a shill for Hell the whole time . . . so what’s your problem? If the Devil wants the Key, it seems like a shoo-in at this point.”

“Who said anything about Hell?” Nobu’s upper lip curled. “And being passed over is not something Maurice took well. To toss him aside publicly? Whatever our previous relationship was, it’s now long gone. He holds no allegiance to any but himself.”

I could buy that. I’d seen the man’s face when he realized Nobu and I had outmaneuvered him at the last moment to keep him from being released. That it was a bargain to my detriment would have made very little difference to him.

I should have felt at least somewhat relieved at this revelation. To no longer have the weight of the Tithe hanging over me. But there was only a sick realization that someone else would most likely have to take my place . . . and things were never this easy.

Nobu gestured at the Door. “I’ll be taking my leave now—but rest assured I’ll be back to collect the Tithe. One way or the other, Faerie still owes us. If I were you, I wouldn’t stick around too long.”

I backed away from the Door. “I can’t.”

“What are your choices?” Sonja pointed out. “Wait here and hope the Devil likes to play cards?”

“He does, you know,” Nobu added. “He’s a wicked cheat, though.”

“Not that helpful, thanks.”

“Such loyalty. Suit yourself, Abby.” Nobu touched the Door and I tried not to flinch as it lit up, an electric hum vibrating over my skin in answer.

“That’s not so bad.” I exhaled softly.

“Famous last words,” Sonja muttered, as Nobu disappeared through the doorway with a flash of silver.

A lance of fire cut through my gut, my stomach roiling as though I’d swallowed a tub of Atomic Fireballs and washed them down with a chaser of lighter fluid. Gagging, I sank to my knees with a gasp. I caught Sonja’s eye for half a second before vomiting noisily at her feet.

Which would have been fine the first time, but the moment I stopped long enough to wipe my mouth on my sleeve, another cramp tore through me, sparking off a second blast of nausea. The Door was still activated, its silver sparkles falling upon me like glittering snowflakes.

Knives prickled over my palms where one of the sparkles touched it, branding me to the bone. Every instinct urged me to run from the Door, my mind gibbering madly, somehow knowing that even if I crawled until my feet were bloody stumps I would
never
be far enough away.

I whimpered, my limbs shivering as Sonja dragged me away from the Door, neatly skirting the puddle of puke. Immediately the burning nausea receded. The Door shuddered and winked out, and relief flooded my veins. I lifted a shaking hand to push back my now-sweaty hair, the gritty sweet taste of bile lingering on my tongue.

Staggering to my feet, I only managed a few steps before I sank to the ground, my head on my knees. “I never thought I’d actually wish to die again, but that just came pretty damn close.”

Sonja stared at the still fading Door. “This geas is linked to proximity. You didn’t react until Nobu went through it, so it’s the activation that’s the key. I wonder . . .”

“You have an idea?”

“Just that there are other ways to get to the CrossRoads than Doors. Certain times of the year where the veil between Paths and worlds is very thin. Sometimes you can cross right over without using a Door at all. Like during Samhain, for example.”

I ignored the quailing part of me that wanted to know which year it was back home—time traveled oddly between worlds, and I’d long since given up trying to figure out how it worked. Something to do with the sun and the moon and a bunch of other metaphysical crap I’d never actually had explained.

I rubbed at my chin with my wrist. “So what now? I don’t think I can sit around and wait for Samhain or whatever to roll around. And I should probably let Talivar in on this too, you know, seeing as we’re married and all.”

Sonja’s lip curled. “I’ll talk to Brystion. He’s always been better at thinking outside the box—now that we
know what the trigger is, he may know of a way to counteract it.”

“Short of trying to escape through the Dreaming, I honestly don’t know. And that wouldn’t help me in the long run anyway.”

“No.” She hesitated. “Will you be okay?”

“As okay as I can be.” I snorted. “Make sure you bring the barf bags with you next time. Think I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

“All right. Come to the Dreaming later and I’ll let you know how things went. Nice touch with the new grass, by the way.” Her face crinkled into a sad smile. “You’re learning.”

“I can be taught. Sometimes I actually listen.”

“And you only had to die once.” She smirked. “At least now I know how to get you to pay attention.”

I bit my lower lip. “Could you tell Ion I want to see him? Please? I know you said he’s doing okay, but . . .”

“I’ll tell him.”

Before I could answer she hugged me again, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead. And then she was gone, wending through the crowded paths of the Barras without looking back.