Darkest Mercy (6 page)

“You are impertinent,” she repeated, but her tone was undeniably affectionate.

“I love you too.” He kissed her cheek.

“Far Dorcha walks in Huntsdale. He is, like all death-fey, able to bring about the end of life for any faery. Unlike most death-fey, he is the only

being allowed to do so without consent or order.” The High Queen paused. “When War strikes, he will be there, as will his sister, Ankou. You must

not let them touch you.”

“I will do what I must do. It’s why you made me, Mother.

Bananach won’t stop ,” Seth reminded her. “Those within Faerie will be safe. You are

safe. Sealing the gate has done that . . . and I will go to Huntsdale and do what you sought: I will try to kill her. I’ve been training with the Hounds for

this reason. They will want her death now. Niall will. It’s what we all want.”

Sorcha turned away to watch the garden as it shifted around them, and Seth felt as much as saw the moods she was trying to keep in order.

She was balanced now, but she was still unused to having emotions.

After several moments, she turned her attention back to him. “I do not like when the consequences of a choice are not what I wish them to be. I

want you to . . . I want you to not go, but since you are going, I require a promise that you will not get injured as Irial did. He could have avoided it. If you can avoid injury, you will do so.” Wisely, Seth decided not to answer. Instead, he asked,

“Did you know he would do that?”

Sorcha nodded. “And you?”

“I did,” Seth admitted. “I looked at the other possibilities.

They were worse.”

“It would be better if Niall did not know of your foreseeing Irial’s death.” She frowned, and the garden became less orderly. “He cares a great

deal for Irial’s well-being. He’s denied it for centuries, but his denial was transparent to many of us.”

“And the new Shadow Court? How will that affect him?” Seth prompted.

“My court balanced the Dark for forever. Without the balance, Niall will be . . . unwell.” The High Queen lifted one shoulder in a delicate shrug.

“The gates are sealed to me, so that world is not my concern.”

“You know he matters to me, Mother. He’s my sworn brother . When I was vulnerable, surrounded by faeries, he protected me. He gave me

family before I found you, and he’s taken me into his.” Seth frowned. “I want him to be well; I need that.”

“I will be his balance again. . . . Simply convince the Shadow Court to disband; convince them to unlock the gates from Faerie to the mortal

world,” she suggested.

“No.”

“Then there is nothing I can do. Niall will fall, or he won’t. I am unable to assist in either path.” Sorcha kissed both of Seth’s cheeks. “No foolish

sacrifices.”

“I can’t make that promise,” he admitted. “There are three faeries I’d sacrifice myself for. Two of them are in the mortal world.”

“In fairness, you should know that I would kill them to keep you from doing that.” Sorcha began to walk toward his quarters, and he followed.

“Which is yet another benefit of the gates being barred to you,” Seth said.

The High Queen stopped and turned around. The assessing gaze she leveled at him reminded Seth that this faery had existed since before he

could fathom, before—by her admission—she could remember. He wasn’t yet old enough to legally drink, and although he’d been on his own for a

couple of years, he had lived only a moment compared to her.

“Do not vex me, Seth.” Sorcha closed the distance between them and brushed his hair back. “I am well aware that you were influential in

encouraging that Hound and Devlin to create a new court.

I do not forget that you had a role in barring me from the mortal world.”

“I want you to be safe,” he reminded her.

“And unable to reach the mortal world.” She kept her hand on his head. “You are mine . You matter to me as no one else ever has, but it would

be wise of you to remember that I am not mortal. Don’t forget that when you make such decisions in the future.”

“I didn’t forget any of it. I also won’t forget that you love me enough to destroy your world.” Seth put his hand over hers. “Don’t threaten me,

Mother. I’m bound by our agreement to come to Faerie every year for the rest of eternity, but I’m not bound to love you. I do love you, but you are not

the only one in my heart.”

They stood for several moments, and then the High Queen nodded. “Be careful of Niall’s temper . . . please ?”

“He is my brother. It will be fine,” Seth promised, and then he left her and went in search of the Shadow King.

Chapter 6

“He will not wake,” the new healer said.

Niall’s abyss-guardians flashed into existence at the pronouncement.

“Get the next healer,” the Dark King ordered.

A Hound whose name he couldn’t recall nodded. With a quick look at the Dark King, she grabbed the offending faery’s arm and hurriedly

escorted him out of the room.

“Stab one or two healers, and everyone overreacts,” Niall said.

No one answered. Irial had fallen into unconsciousness and was not rousing.

Yet.

Niall drew out the cloth from the basin on the bedside table. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Irial’s forehead. “Your fever isn’t any worse.

It’s not better yet, but it’s not worse.” As he’d been doing most of the past day, he sat next to the unconscious faery and dabbed the wet cloth on Irial’s face and neck again.

“I can stay with him,” Gabriel said from the doorway. “If he wakes, I can send someone for you.”

“No.” He didn’t tell Gabriel about the peculiar dreams that he and Irial seemed to share now. It didn’t make sense to think he was really in the

same dream with Irial. But it is real. It feels real. Niall had lived a long time, wandered for years, spent time in three different courts. He’d never

heard of being able to dream together as he and Irial seemed to be doing. Is it madness? In his dreams they’d talked about all of the things they

hadn’t spoken of in centuries; they’d been close as they hadn’t been in far too long. Am I imagining it?

The Hound tried again: “You need to rest. Court’s strength is from you. If you’re sick—”

“Don’t.” Niall glared at him. “Leave us.” Gabriel ignored him. Instead of departing, he came farther into the room. He stood beside Irial’s bed and lowered one hand onto Niall’s

shoulder in a gesture of support. “My pup is dead. Ani and Rabbit are over in Faerie. Irial’s hurt. I understand .” The grief in the Hound’s voice almost undid the scant self-control Niall was desperately clinging to. “I can’t,” he admitted. “I can’t leave him. . . .

Something’s not right.”

Gabriel snorted. “Lots of things aren’t right. Probably easier to list the things that are right.” Silently, Niall dipped the cloth into the basin again. He stared at the water, trying to make sense of the feelings that had come over him. His

reaction to Irial’s injury seemed too intense. Unpredictable thoughts clouded his mind; he couldn’t follow them from moment to moment with much

clarity. Urges to violence pressed against his better judgment. In the couple days since Bananach had stabbed Irial, Niall had gone from angry to

positively unhinged. He knew it. He’d felt emotions overwhelm him, but there was something else.

Something is wrong.

“Niall?”

The Dark King shook his head. “I’m not sure what I’ll do if I walk out of this room. I’m coming unraveled . . . without Irial. . . . I can’t do this alone,

Gabe. I can’t. I’m not right .”

“You’re grieving. Normal reaction, Niall. You two have . . .

issues , but you both knew what you were to each other.”

“Are, not were,” Niall corrected halfheartedly.

Gabriel took the cloth from Niall. “You’re not alone, either.

Most of the court is here. The Hunt stands with you. I stand with you.”

When Niall looked up at the massive Hound, Gabriel extended his arms. “Give me a command, Niall. Your words, my orders. Tell me what you

need.”

Niall stood. “No one touches Irial without my consent. No one not of our court enters this house unless I summon them. No speaking of his injury

to anyone outside the house. Increase the guards on Leslie.”

The Dark King paused as the fear of the only other person he loved being injured by Bananach swelled inside him.

Gabriel nodded, and the Dark King’s orders appeared in ink on Gabriel’s flesh as the words were spoken. “Leslie will be safe,” he promised.

Then after a minute, he prompted, “And Bananach? And the ones leaving the court to stand with her?” The Dark King blinked at Gabriel. “She cannot enter our home, but Irial said we could not kill her without killing Sorcha and, thus, all the rest of

us. I will not send forces after her. . . . The others . . . I don’t care what you do to them once we get through this.

Not right now. Right now, Irial is what matters.”

A brief frown flashed across Gabriel’s face, but he nodded.

Niall walked over and dimmed the light. “Wake me when the next healer arrives.”

And then he lay down on the floor beside Irial’s bed and closed his eyes.

Chapter 7

As Seth approached the gate, Devlin had one hand raised as if to touch the fabric that divided the two worlds, the veil that now separated the

twins.

Seth had spent the past hour thinking while he sought Devlin. He would’ve liked to ponder longer, but time didn’t allow for it. He’d been in Faerie

less than a day, but every four hours in Faerie was a full day in the mortal world. That meant he’d been gone two days, and he had no idea what had

been happening in the mortal world during that time. Irial had been stabbed, and the Hounds were fighting with Bananach’s allies when he had

come to Faerie with Ani, Devlin, and Rabbit. Did they all survive? Is Niall okay? Is Ash safe? Until he went back, he had no answers.

“Have you thought about the consequences?” Seth asked.

He felt a loyalty to Faerie, but he was of both worlds.

Devlin, however, was not.

He turned to face Seth, but did not speak. The new Shadow King was the oldest male faery, the first, the one Sorcha and Bananach had

created. In sealing Faerie, he’d assured that neither of his sister-mothers could kill the other. Asking him to consider the consequences beyond that

appeared to perplex him.

“For them ”—Seth gestured to the other side of the gate—

“now that Faerie is closed?”

It was clear to everyone in Faerie that they were safe now.

For that, Seth was grateful. However, he didn’t live solely in Faerie, nor did he intend

to do so. If Sorcha could forbid him from leaving Faerie, she would, but he wasn’t going to give up on Aislinn—or abandon his friends.

“They are not my concern.” Devlin let his hand drop toward the sgian dubh he carried. “The good of Faerie is my concern.”

“I’m not here to fight you, Brother.” Seth held his hands up disarmingly. “I will fight Bananach, though.” Devlin’s frustration was an interesting thing to see. After an eternity of repressing emotions, the new Shadow King was now letting emotions

influence him. That, too, was good for Faerie.

“And if Bananach’s death still kills your mother ?” Devlin asked. “Why should I let you cross over there, knowing that it could bring disaster on

us?”S eth smiled at his brother. “ You cannot keep me here. The terms of her remaking me were that I can return to the mortal world. Even you cannot

negate her vow.”

“If they came home, if the other courts returned here . . .” Faeries giving up power? The arrogance of every faery monarch Seth had met made the idea especially illogical.

Seth laughed at the thought of

proposing such a thing to any of them. “Do you think that Keenan would give up the Summer Court? That Donia would give up her court? That Niall

would become a subject to you or to our mother? Pipe dreams, man.”

“They would be safe here now that Bananach cannot enter.” Devlin didn’t see that he had already become like them, thinking that his idea, his

rule, held the answers for the others. The sense of clarity, of surety, was an essential trait in a faery monarch, but his suggestion wasn’t feasible.

Seth shrugged. “Some things are worth more than safety.”

“I cannot speak of what would happen to our . . . to your queen if you died.” Devlin stared through the veil. “I would come with you, but protecting

Faerie comes first. I cannot risk Faerie for the mortal world.”

“And I can’t abandon Ash or Niall.”

Devlin paused. “Tell me what you see.”

“Nothing. Over here, I’m mortal. I see nothing until I go back. . . .” Seth bit his lip ring, rolling the ball of it into his mouth as he weighed his

thoughts. “I don’t see anything, but I’m worried. . . . Ash is dealing with her court alone. Sorcha was to balance Niall, but now you balance her. What

will that mean for him? Irial was stabbed. Gabe was outnumbered. Bananach is murderous and only getting stronger. . . . Nothing there makes me think everything is going to be all right.” For a few moments, they stood silently at the veil, and then Devlin said, “When you are ready . . .” Seth stared at him for a moment. He hated the necessity of the words he needed to say—that Devlin needed to hear—but that didn’t change

reality. “If . . . you know . . . I die , she’ll need you. She doesn’t like admitting it, but she will.” Silently, Devlin put his hand on the veil. He didn’t answer the question implicit in Seth’s words, but Seth knew that Devlin had chosen the path

he’d taken in order to protect not just Faerie, but also his sisters. Devlin had acted out of love for his family, for his beloved, and for Faerie.

As I do.

Seth put his hand to the veil.

Together, they pushed their fingers through the fabric and parted it. Then Devlin put a hand on Seth’s forearm. “It will not open for you to return