The Dark Throne (58 page)

Mab surprised me by laughing, a mirthless sound. “Our warriors are fighting for their very existence. They need no leader to know that if they flag or fail, it means certain death.”

“We will have our captains among our forces still,” said Titania, her voice sharp counterpoint to Mab’s coldness.

“What if Malravenar sees us coming? What if he refuses to meet us in his physical form? And wouldn’t he have wards and protections at his stronghold?”

“We are too powerful for his minions to kill,” replied Mab. The star in her crown pulsed softly with her words. “And it is our blood he needs for his dark purposes. Even if he has wards, he will let us through.”

“And Tess,” said Vell, “you are the only one of us whose power does not originate with the First. He still needs your blood to break the Seal, but you are the one he will fear.”

“If he even feels fear anymore,” I said softly, gazing down again at the simple objects in my hands.

“Oh, he feels fear,” Mab said, a quietly vicious undertone to her voice. “He does not fear death, as he knows its secrets. He fears imprisonment.”

“So we are going to ensure he becomes intimately familiar with that fear,” said Titania, her eyes flashing with the Fae-spark. I caught a glimpse of the terrifying warrior-queen, the other side of the beautiful, benevolent Seelie ruler. It was all the more disconcerting because I expected it from Mab, but not Titania.

“The Sword created the river-stones,” said Vell. “From iron, no less. We are going to imprison him in four stones. One for each Court, and one for the Bearer. So make sure you don’t forget them in the northern wilds.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if anything in this world is a coincidence,” I said, mostly to myself. My war-markings tingled, even in Walker form.

“Perhaps we have just made use of the opportunities before us,” said Vell.

“That could also be true.” I slid the orb and the ring back into their silken pouch. “So. Is there any special activation rune or anything I should know?”

Vell shook her head. “I will activate the orb, and your orb will activate the ring. You need to be ready to supply it with power.”

I nodded. The ache in the back of my head grew stronger: I was starting to feel the effects of Walking and carrying physical objects. “I need to get back to camp while I’m still strong enough to make sure these come through too.” I cupped one hand around the pouch tied to my belt, feeling the curve of the orb and the circle of the silver ring beneath the fabric. “Do you know how long it will be until the battle?”

“Arrisyn estimates a fortnight, but it could change,” said Vell.

“Our time grows ever shorter,” the Unseelie Queen said to all of us, or perhaps none of us.

Vell reached out and gripped my forearm in the
ulfdrengr
fashion. “I am looking forward to meeting the Seer tonight.”

“He and his companions will be honored,” I replied, squeezing her arm and smiling a little. With just a simple statement, Vell reassured me that she understood I wouldn’t leave the vanguard stranded in the mountains, even if the other queens thought it imprudent to use my power to transport them. Then she stepped back. I gave Mab a respectful nod, which she seemed not to see, or ignored; and Titania put her hands on my shoulders, once again that sisterly queen.

“May your blade be sharp and your arrows true,” she said to me. I knew somehow it was an old Sidhe benediction, a blessing to send off a warrior. So I nodded and covered her hands with my own. She released me, and I prepared to return to our camp in the northern mountains. Wisp leapt from my shoulder as I reached for the seam between the ether and the waking world.

“My lady!” cried the valiant little glow. I wasn’t sure which queen he addressed, but I paused. “I request to accompany the Bearer.”

“Have you made this request of Lumina?” asked Vell, her golden eyes regarding the Glasidhe warrior with respect and, I thought, a certain fondness.

“Yes, my lady,” said Wisp with a courtly bow.

“If the Bearer wishes it, you are welcome to journey with her,” said Vell.

“Of course the Bearer wishes it,” I said with a smile as the Glasidhe turned to ask me. “Come on, then. You can meet my brother.”

“I have heard there are
four
mortals at your camp,” said Wisp rapturously. “I will have the honor of meeting the greatest number of mortals of any of my people!”

“Well, then, how could I refuse you that honor?” I grinned and felt a little bit better as I slid through into the ether, Wisp ensconced once again on my shoulder. I cupped my hand carefully around the silk pouch at my belt, and let the pull of my physical body begin to spin me through the nebulous beauty of the ether, Wisp’s weight on my shoulder a comforting counterpoint to my dark thoughts.

Chapter 29

I
slammed back into my physical body with a distinct lack of grace, jolting awake and gasping. Niamh looked up from sharpening a long, slim dagger, raising one eyebrow in question. I coughed and frowned at the headache tightening behind my eyes, but gave her a thumbs-up. Apparently the Sidhe now accepted my habitual gesture as a sign of functionality, because she turned back to her blade. I checked my belt and found the silken pouch still tied securely to it, the orb unbroken and the silver ring still strangely light within it. Wisp burst into existence beside me, nearly blinding me with his aura. He landed promptly on my shoulder and dropped dramatically onto his back, leaning against the curve of my neck and exclaiming, “It has been too long since I transported myself! I’m
winded!
”

I swallowed and tested my voice. “I didn’t know that the Glasidhe were so talented at navigating the ether that you could bring your physical form through. I thought that was just a talent of mine because of the power of the Sword.”

“We cannot do it often,” said Wisp, “and it helps to have a Walker who knows the way with us, just as it is easier for you to go places with a guide.”

I rubbed my eyes and chuckled. “Do you have a headache too?”

“No,” the indefatigable Glasidhe answered, hopping onto his feet again. His small hands massaged my temple.

“It’s been a while since I’ve transported anything through the ether,” I confessed.

Wisp patted my ear. “It is probably the last time in a long time that you will need to Walk. Tonight will not be Walking!”

I took a deep breath. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“We put aside some of the noon meal for you,” said Niamh over the silvery sound of whetting her blade. She motioned with her dagger at a wooden bowl within arm’s reach of my cloak. My stomach rumbled at the sight of the food, even though I hadn’t recognized my hunger until that moment…probably because I hadn’t inhabited my physical body for the last few hours. I stretched my legs as I ate the cold meat and bread with my hands.

“Thanks,” I said to Niamh, who hadn’t moved. She just grinned at me, and I stood and rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the stiffness in my body. Walking was always more taxing than just sleeping. I wondered if I tensed my muscles or moved while I Walked; I contemplated asking Niamh but decided against it. After all, I didn’t know if I’d ever Walk again. I pushed the dark thought from my mind.

“It is quite beautiful here,” Wisp said, letting himself drift down from overhead with the lazy motion of a floating feather. “It almost reminds me of the forests about the Three Trees.”

“It’s better than the Deadlands,” I allowed, slipping the strap of the Caedbranr over my head. “Come on. I don’t think you’ve met most of these warriors. I’ll introduce you.”

“And then introduce me to your brother and his three mortal companions,” said Wisp firmly, his voice eager.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on holding the title of the Glasidhe who has met the most mortals.”

“It is not so much the title that I crave,” replied the diminutive messenger contemplatively. He grinned, his boyishly handsome face impish. “It is the bragging rights.”

I chuckled as I scanned the camp, walking past the pale, flickering fire, new flames nestled atop redly glowing embers and a bed of white ash. Wisp, following me at eye level, made a sound of astonishment and appreciation when he spotted one of the winged
faehal
. The gray steed’s wings gleamed almost white where they joined his back and graduated to shades of blue and purple, deepening until his pinion feathers and the tips of his wings were almost black.

“Quite a masterful creation,” Wisp breathed, spinning and flying backward to continue admiring the Valkyrie’s mount as I strode toward the practice space set up at the edge of the clearing. There were half a dozen Sidhe warriors sparring, ranging from slow movement and pattern practice to full-speed bouts. And then on the right side of the space, Luca stood watching Liam, Quinn, Jess and Duke as they learned the basics of swordsmanship from their Sidhe partners. I didn’t know Liam’s partner by name, but Moira stood across from Quinn and Robin had taken it upon himself to teach Duke. Kianryk lounged against the sun-dappled base of a huge oak tree, watching the proceedings with half-lidded eyes.

“It looks like they’ll be quick studies,” I said to Luca by way of greeting. He glanced down at me and smiled.

“They are eager to learn how to fight in our world,” Luca agreed. “Though the small one keeps insisting he would be better with an axe.”

I shrugged. “Maybe you should give him one.”

“After he learns the basics of a blade,” said the
ulfdrengr
, “perhaps.”

“Such a stickler,” I mused. “First you pass judgment on mortal men and their mustaches, now you deny them their request for an axe…” I stopped as I saw the considering look on Luca’s face. “I’m joking. Mostly. But from what my brother has told me about his teammates, if one asks for an axe it’s probably for a good reason.” I shrugged.

“It’s a good idea,” said Luca. “Perhaps you’re right…perhaps I am being too hard on them.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “The warriors know that the final battle will be soon. They are restless, trapped up here in the northern wilds.”

“I am very good at lightening moods,” said Wisp, grinning as he dove between Luca and I. “Or so I have been told,” the Glasidhe added modestly.

“Luca, this is Wisp,” I said. “He was the messenger who brought Molly the letter summoning her to Mab’s court.” I smiled. “It seems like years ago now.”

“And I said during that very first meeting that I thought you had priestess blood,” Wisp said.

“You did, now that I think of it. Of course, I thought it was all a dream.”

“It is good to meet you, Wisp,” said Luca, the Glasidhe’s light-hearted nickname sounding odd coming from his lips.

“I will not interrupt the mortals’ blade practice,” said Wisp. “It is important they learn.”

“Well, too late,” I said, as my brother caught sight of me and signaled for a break.

“Five minutes, and then we’ll be back at it,” Liam told his three teammates. Quinn took the opportunity to let Moira examine his sleeve of tattoos, and to Duke’s delight Robin produced a small, light axe. Luca shook his head but suppressed a smile.

“So what did you find out on your ghost adventure, Bug?” Liam asked, sheathing his sword as he walked toward us. I thought enviously that it had taken me
hours
of practice just to be able to sheath a sword without nearly stabbing myself.

“First of all,” I said, “I’m not a ghost when I’m Walking. I’m just doing a little incorporeal travel.”

Liam waved his hand. “Whatever you say.”

“Ghosts are the spirits of the dead,” Wisp agreed gravely. Duke looked sharply at the diminutive Fae. “We are not ghosts.”

“It talked,” said Duke, still holding the axe Robin had given him.

“
It
can hear you,” Wisp informed the wiry man.

Duke squinted at the Glasidhe, while Quinn was still deep in conversation with Moira and Jess was practicing a sequence of basic movements with his blade, moving slowly and deliberately through the pattern.

“Liam, Duke, this is Wisp,” I said, motioning to the small Fae. “He’s a Glasidhe.”

“So…wait, are you telling me that Tinkerbell is real?” Duke said suspiciously, watching Wisp hover in the air.

“Tinkerbell was not her true name,” Wisp replied seriously, before I could say anything. “But yes, she was a very accomplished assassin.”

“Tinkerbell as an assassin,” Duke repeated weakly. “Right.” He looked at Robin.

“Don’t look at me to contradict the greatness of the most legendary Glasidhe assassin of her time,” said the red-haired Seelie with a puckish grin.

“I’m just going to start assuming that every single fairy tale I’ve ever heard is real,” said Duke in his Southern accent, shaking his head as he swung his axe through the air with a practiced hand.

“Most of them probably have some truth to them,” Wisp agreed.

I untied the silk pouch from my belt and held it out to Luca. “While the kids discuss fairy tales, take a look at what Vell gave me.”

“Ah. So
that
is why she specifically needed you to Walk,” Luca said, carefully revealing the silver ring and glass orb. The objects looked even smaller in the center of his big hand.

“I have the apparently enviable skill of being able to transport solid objects while I’m Walking,” I explained in an undertone to Liam.

My brother stared at the glass orb and silver ring, his eyes unfocused, a strangely distant expression on his face. “A portal. A portal to the Dark Throne.” He breathed heavily for a moment, and then shuddered and blinked. “
That
was a particularly messy one.”

“What did you See?” I asked, curiosity sharpening my voice.

“There are so many choices and possibilities, and that was only the first glimpse,” Liam said, rubbing his hand over his eyes. “As different choices narrow down the outcomes, I should be able to See a little clearer. The visions come in waves. If it’s an important event, I’ll usually get the first hint of it a few days out. The first ones are always blurry and difficult to read.”

“Are you all right?” I asked him in concern, putting a hand out to steady him as he swayed.