rogue shifter 07 - cut off (30 page)

"Power sustains The Balance. Only the purest can wield great power."

You are wrong." He pointed toward me. "Look at your nephew. He is fae, cheetah, healer and demon, yet he was not touched by your time spell nor your attempts to invade his mind. He is The Balance, not only of Faerie but of the supernatural world.". The crazy king winked at me. "Perhaps I will fight beside him against Naberia's forces." His grin turned evil. "I look forward to meeting her on the field once again."

"You would lead the battle, Father?"

"Charles will lead us all." He spread his arms out to encompass the room.

You coulda heard a feather touch the ground a mile away.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

I was in my chambers awaiting the inevitable, most of my magic drained or blocked by Father. Fiona, Caelen and I had been whisked away after Father's surprising pronouncement regarding his joining the war. I'd been grateful to end up here and not in some gray cell, or especially not in the jaws of a slaugh like Throat or Belly. That would have been an unpleasant end. Of course there were worse to be had.

My plan to bind another demon had blown up in my face at the hands of two demi-fey. Somehow, they'd known that my knees had not recovered from my time with Isaiah, and because I was concentrating so acutely on my spell, they had been able to sneak in and attack me with spelled blades. I suppose I should be grateful that they hadn't killed me but instead left me where I'd fallen, choosing to expend their energies in saving the mongrel.

The fiasco in the throne room had only added coal to my already black mood.

Father would be here soon, no doubt. I'd spent some time musing over various punishment options and found that I could not summon up the appropriate amount of fear one should experience in this situation. I'm sure my dear sister was wailing and begging for mercy. That was never my style. No matter what the punishment, I would die or live knowing that I behaved as any fae male would whose child and mate had been denied them. If it hadn't been for Isaiah, Jacqueline and Charles would have been living with me at court for all these years. I'd been robbed of my family sixteen years ago and had acted accordingly.

The door opened and my former captain entered my suite. We stared at each other for several heartbeats, then I spoke. "You have served me well, captain. I do not intend to mention your involvement in any of our plans. However, my father has the ability to rip whatever information he pleases from my brain. I cannot guarantee your safety. I am sorry for that."

"It was my honor to serve you, Lord Kennet. I have come to you of my own accord to offer you a merciful death, if it is your wish." He touched the hilt of his sword and bowed. Beheadings worked to end us the same way they did other species. That end would indeed be merciful compared to most others.

"You might be executed for aiding me."

He remained stoic. "I understand. However, I intend to ask King Finvarra for mercy in the hopes that I may serve him as I once served you. The Archdemon Naberia is a grave enemy. Faerie must recover its former strength if we are to defeat her armies."

This was all true, and weakening our court by the death of even one fae was not wise. My captain would make a fine leader. "I thank you for the offer of death at your merciful hand, but I will await the king's justice. I'm sure whatever he has planned for me will be entertaining. I would hate to miss it. Would you wish for me to mention your loyalty toward Faerie to my father?"

"I would be grateful for your support. I pray that your father also shows you mercy, Kennet." He bowed low with a hand over his heart.

"Thank you, Reylan." I nodded in the same way just before he faded out of the room.

Dinner was brought in by a servant and four guards. They weren't taking any chances.

I drank wine and ate what I could. Death at my father's hand would most likely be swift. He did not favor torture unless information was sought. I should feel grateful, but had no energy even for that.

My lord father arrived via the lines, his cloak whipping around his shoulders, his eyes glittering with anger. He always used to enjoy making a dramatic entrance, and that hadn't changed. He smelled of Fionna and Caelen, having dealt with them first. I wasn't surprised that they took precedence over me. It had always been so.

I stood and bowed. There was no reason to show him disrespect. "Father. What a surprise."

The king didn't seem to appreciate my wit. "Sit." He conjured a large chair in the center of the room and lowered himself gracefully into it. I sat in my usual armchair by the window, turning it to face him.

He spoke in Old Seelie, an ancient tongue used only within the family. "Your sister is not well."

Lest he forget they were related, I answered, "Your
daughter
has never been well, sire."

"Fionna's narcissistic schemes have almost destroyed the court." Finvarra had opened the magical blocks, allowing our people to heal their injuries and conjure adequate amounts of food. Most were probably resting or eating as the king and I spoke in my quarters.

It struck me that if the king chose to end me, this could be my last conversation with another being. An unfamiliar twinge of pain resonated within my chest. I could not help wishing it had been Jacqueline or Charles with whom I could have shared my final moments, although I knew without question that they would have refused to come.

"I felt the surge of your magic this past hour, Father. Under your rule the court will once more regain its health. It is provident that you have arrived today."

"Perhaps not for you." Father was honest to a fault.

His gaze bore into mine, his eyes as black as a night without stars or moon. I allowed no emotion to show on my face, a skill I'd learned at a very early age when dealing with my irrational mother. "I understand. And my sister?"

"Fionna will be punished and..." He glanced above the hearth, then stood, walking to the painting of my mother which hung there. "I thought that you...?" He was confused, as were most who saw the portrait.

"It is true. I killed her along with my step-father." She had beaten my sister almost to death and he had turned a blind eye. However, when this was painted, mother was his lover and had not yet grown mad from the iron poisoning. "This was her happiest time. I try to think of her in this way."

He touched the picture as if the female were still alive. "She was lovely. So fragile." It was evident that he had cared for her deeply. That had never been a comfort, since he had left her, and me, so easily.

"Not too fragile. The beatings she administered were harsh. Korwyn barely survived." I'd allowed some of my rage to surface, perhaps not wise in this situation, but certainly within reason.

"Beatings?" I met his shocked gaze with an anger that had burned a hole in my heart long ago. He waited, but I chose not to respond. What was the point? "Will you show me?" he asked.

My eyes widened in surprise. He could have ripped my mind to shreds to root out my memories, but chose instead to ask for permission. The gesture struck me more forcefully than any of my mother's strokes with the cane ever had.

He arched an eyebrow. "You are shocked that I have not ruthlessly invaded your mind as you would have done if the roles were reversed? Kennet, you are of my blood as much as Caelen or Argon. You are the child of a female I loved as greatly as the queen herself. She is dead because of that love. I wish to understand your anger. Please." His voice had softened, his smile looked genuine. My father had not lost his masterful ability to coax his victim into a more relaxed mood.

Trust, a state I thought to be a weakness between beings opened between us, and I willingly allowed him to enter my most vulnerable places, something I would never have imagined doing only a few hours ago. Even more surprising, he did not attempt to dominate or subdue my will. He did not take my pain and use it against me. Finvarra simply delved deeply and remained still.

After several long moments, Father pulled out of my mind, his brow furrowed in thought. "Your cruelty toward others is great."

"It has been, yes." There could only be honesty now. He'd viewed my life from start to finish.

He listed the crimes he felt were the most heinous, most of them involving fae. "You imprisoned your own people in the mortal world, binding them in iron and keeping them in darkness. One of them your niece, Ashlyn, my grandchild."

"Yes. And although the prison itself was built by Brownlow, the alpha wolf, I did approve its design."

"You've used blood magic—often."

"Yes. It enhances one's powers, as you know. I am not a warrior, Father, and must use the weapons at my disposal."

"You've killed fae here at court."

"Only mongrels. Fionna has killed the pure bloods who displease her. I believe she has gone through a dozen consorts over the centuries."

"You ordered the murder of Cascade fae and attempted to murder my grandchild, Keara." I nodded. "I wish to hear in your own words what you hoped to accomplish."

He had seen, so there was no point in dissembling. "I wanted Charles and Jacqueline at court. When that had been accomplished, I would have taken the throne away from Fionna in order to restore the health of our people. When they were strong again, I would have begun to train an army. Naberia is already training hers."

"You would destroy Jacqueline's family?"

"Charles is my blood as I am yours. I knew from the first that Jacqueline was meant to be my bound mate. Eventually she would have accepted it."

Father's voice was kind. "She is the lifemate of another, son. She cannot be yours."

I was stunned. I never remembered Father referring to me as his son. Even though the king had borne other children at her request, Queen Aine did not approve of acknowledging them publicly. While she reigned, only Caelen was referred to as Finvarra's son and only Fionna, his daughter.

"You are fond of your boy?" he asked.

The question surprised me. I hesitated, then answered candidly, "More than I thought was possible for someone such as myself."

He shook his head and sighed. "What shall I do with you?"

I shrugged. "I assumed you would imprison me or strip my brain of memory. Perhaps even kill me."

"I cannot deny that those thoughts have crossed my mind. Your life is also owed to the Dark Lord of the Hunt."

"Yes. I'd forgotten." I winced. "I expect he'll collect his bounty soon." Now there was a horrible death.

"Would you ask him for a reprieve?"

"A grant of clemency is not common in these circumstances, but I would ask for a deferment, perhaps not from the Lord of the Hunt, but from you, Father."

"And what would be accomplished during this respite?"

I had no answer for him, only my instincts telling me that time was needed. "I cannot say, other than I feel there is something else I must do. Perhaps Charles will need me in the war." I shrugged.

Unable to endure the intensity of Father's gaze, I glanced at the carpeted floor. I was surprised to see a splatter of blood that had not been cleaned by the mongrels. Usually they were thorough, not wanting to suffer my wrath. Perhaps my blood would soon mix with my victim's, a fitting end, no doubt.

I took in a breath and asked, "Why have you returned?"

"To bring healing and to prepare for war. The later is natural to me, since I have fought many a battle against Naberia and her clans. However, healing is not one of my gifts, nor one of yours, I think."

"Hardly."

He twisted his mouth in a way still familiar to me, even after so many years. "You will answer for all that you have done, but not in any of the ways you suggest." He narrowed his eyes and leaned back into the chair. "I've seen to the heart of you, Kennet. You protected your sister well, yet, without guidance, turned your youthful rage into a weapon against innocents. The gift we share can corrupt the user more easily than others imagine. The lure of drawing on a power that attacks on such an intimate level can be impossible to put aside."

"You did."

"My father guided me."

"And now my son..."

"Yes, and now Charles will need guidance." He agreed.

"Will you help him?"

"Yes." A goblet appeared on the table beside me. "Tonight we will talk and I will ponder your future along with the court's." He took a slow sip, while I finished the wine in two gulps. He refilled the goblet without even a twitch. "Tell me about Charles."

It was an easy subject for me. I smiled, describing some of Charles' early antics and his love of all things adventurous, particularly knights and warriors and hooded bandits who fought for the poor. Father listened with an intense focus as I spoke of the training program I'd devised for my son's powerful mind and of the arcane dagger I'd given him for protection. We talked until a servant knocked on the door, informing him the meal was ready for his guests.

There was no need for him to tell me that I would not be allowed to leave my rooms, yet our talk had left me with an unfamiliar warmth not simply attributable to three goblets of honey wine.

I was shocked beyond words when my sister, Korwyn, and my niece arrived. Servants brought us food and more wine, stoking the fire and enabling us to speak well into the night. It occurred to me that Father might have some healing ability after all.

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Lord Caelen, Fionna and Kennet had been taken somewhere by Finvarra. The rest of us had been asked to wait and were led by a fae guard to a more comfortable room with large couches and padded arm chairs. I collapsed into a chair, stretching out my legs and resting my large feet on a stool, while Mom and Dad chose a couch. Although they looked like they wouldn't stay awake for more than three minutes tops, I was pretty sure they were having one of their patented mind-to-mind conversations that went on and on and made for many uncomfortable minutes when I was the only other person in the room.

How they found so much to talk about was beyond me.

Brina and Aedus both paced the room, anxious to hear what had happened to Lord Caelen. My guess was that he was being reamed out by Daddy. Sometimes it sucked to have a fae lord for a father. That was a subject I knew all about.