Soul

  I stared at him, my stomach turning. I couldn’t worry about that. Not yet. “What about Dymphna? Did we get the kid?”

  “We took her,” Líle said. “Arlen helped.”

  The tall bodyguard shrugged. “I wouldn’t leave anyone to that fate.”

  “Are you okay?” Anya asked me. “He told us, and we feared… did the hedgewitch harm you?”

  “No. Maybe she helped. She said she watched. Saw it all. Said I smelled like the grotto, and I—”

  “The grotto?” A vein in Brendan’s forehead bulged.

  “Don’t freak out,” I said. “I think it got her on our side.”

  “It would,” he replied. “We need to get back to our camp in case Deorad reappears. I’m not ready to deal with him quite yet.”

  At camp, we got cleaned up and ate, and I tried to explain exactly what had happened. Brendan wanted to hear it all first, of course.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Deorad?” he asked.

  “I didn’t want to distract you and Drake and cause some kind of civil war while we’re at it. And it’s a lot to take in. I mean, Drake’s… Drake. And Deorad is a monster. I knew Drake’s father was cruel. I just didn’t realise he’s kind of a lunatic.”

  “Sadler made him that way,” Brendan said. “The harem of children and the women he defiled to make them. It’s a strange hobby, even for a fae.”

  “Even for a fae,” I whispered as a memory struck me. “He knew.”

  “Who knew what?” he asked.

  “Drake knew who his father was. I can’t believe I forgot. He told me some old woman helped him find out who his father really was. He said he was close to finding him again, but I didn’t think of it until now.”

  “Drake wanted me to face Sadler’s son, his father,” Brendan said slowly. “He knew I wouldn’t want to anger Sadler all over again. And Drake let you…” He shook his head. “When I saw Deorad, I felt a million different emotions. I didn’t react in time. I promised you I would keep you safe, and you almost died in front of me. I’m sorry, Cara.”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” I said. “You really promised to kill Drake’s father?”

  He gave a rueful smile. “That was before I knew of the connection to Sadler. It’s hard to explain how it works inside this head, but I made a decision to find Drake’s father. Drake calmed, and I made a strange kind of a promise to fulfil the vengeance he needs. I don’t know how to resolve this now.”

  “Did you know about the cat all along?”

  “I knew of Bekind. I only recently suspected she had something to do with you. Do you know anything of the leanan sídhe?”

  “No. Is she… evil?”

  He frowned. “That means little to us. You know that, Cara. You could call her a muse, I suppose.”

  “The cat—Bekind—said Sadler sent her to the Fade.”

  “Bekind’s life has been quite black and white. Nella was your ancestor, Sadler was her lover, and he was the one who sent her away. He did it to protect the woman who would become his wife.”

  “So… you knew my ancestor?”

  He nodded. “When Sadler did that, I knew he was lost. Nella and I had always butted heads, but that was the beginning of the end for Sadler and me. Funny how one action can lead to so many.”

  “What was she like?” I asked eagerly.

  “Inspirational, for the right person. Nella would find the brightest humans, the ones with something special about them: musicians, poets, people so charismatic that others automatically followed. It didn’t matter. She would encourage them, provide them with that extra spark, and they would be eager to please her. And then she would feed from them. Some burned out quickly, while others spent their lives a little separate from others, but all were envied for one reason or another.”

  “So… evil then.”

  “Call it what you will. Just be grateful that you’re the one Bekind guards now.”

  “Why is she a cat?”

  “As with most of our stories, it’s a long one. It’s time to ready yourself. You’ll speak soon, and the final decisions will be made.”

  “What if they turn on you, Brendan?”

  “Then it’s meant to be.”

  “And if you win. That’s it for Drake? He’s… gone?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “He won’t hang on for long after the ceremony, I’m afraid. If I find a way to help him, I will.”

  “Will you?”

  “I owe you a life debt. You saved me, whether you meant to or not. I owe you.” He took my hand. “When this is over, I’ll keep the promises I’ve made. You’ve been loyal and true, despite everything. You will be rewarded.”

  I pushed at him in frustration. “It’s not about rewards, Brendan. It’s about friendship. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Says the human,” he replied. “I’ll send Anya in to help you. Be brave, honest, and true when you speak. They’ll know if you lie. You can leave afterward as soon as you want.”

  I watched him walk away, thinking I had nowhere else to go. Later, I was led by Grim and Realtín through an orchard to take our places.

  “We were so worried,” Realtín said. “The king was covered in your blood. He didn’t know what was happening or if you’d even live. This is why he hates the hedge-witch. Her tricks and deceit. If you had died…” She flew around me in circles until I grew dizzy.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “Seeing Drake’s father was probably worse for him.”

  “He didn’t speak of it much,” Grim said. “But we could plainly see how much it troubled him. Those eyes have been violet more than once today.”

  But they hadn’t been violet for me, even as I lay dying in his arms. “Think things will go wrong?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Grim admitted. “But if they do, we’re to flee with you.”

  Líle jogged over to us. “Looks clear. Keep walking, but be ready to run, okay?”

  I nodded half-heartedly. I didn’t want to run anymore.

  I spotted Brendan sitting with Arlen and Sorcha, but none of them looked my way. We sat behind him. The meadow filled up with fae, but the centre was left empty.

  I leaned forward to whisper in Brendan’s ear. “Where’s Dymphna? I thought she was supposed to stand by your side after you returned her child to her.”

  “I sent her back to her people,” he murmured.

  I leaned back in my seat, unable to hide the smile on my face. One by one, a number of fae stood and talked about old laws and new, but I kept running through the things I should and shouldn’t say. I couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean I should say the complete truth either.

  “Time for the true child to speak,” an old male fae said. “The hedge-witch supports the claim made by Brendan. We shall hear, and we shall listen, and we shall see. Then we shall choose the rightful king.”

  Grim led me to a stool in the centre of the field. Grim stayed by my side, and I held his hand like a child. The black cat sprinted across the meadow, curled up at my feet, and fell asleep.

  “True child of Ireland,” an aggressive-sounding faery called out. “How did you come to be at the winter festival uninvited?”

  I took a deep breath, looking around at all of the eyes gazing back at me. “I followed some lights, heard the music, and found a way in. But I couldn’t find the way out, so I stayed.”

  “Do you remember what happened next?” another fae asked.

  I nodded. “I remember everything. I saw the queens and a faery who smiled even as he killed people. He saw me, and I wanted to hide, but there was nowhere to go. I drank, and another faery warned me to stop. A banshee hid me in a room and fed me apples. The one who… the smiling faery, he had huge black wings that touched the floor and—”

  Sadler’s pixies burst into laughter.

  My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I held my chin high and tried to concentrate. “Anyway, he found me. He wanted me to be a willing sacrifice, but I said no. He insisted, but then he was called away to help
his queen, the redheaded one.”

  More questions were asked about that night, and I answered until my throat ached. The fae eventually called for a break and passed around drinks and food. Brendan’s pixies danced as an old man sang in a surprisingly deep voice. Bekind appeared in her human form and led me over to the singer.

  He took my hand, and I realised he was human. He held my fingers tightly, and his voice somehow sounded even better. Afterward, the fae wept and clapped, and the old man was led away, anxiously looking back at me. I didn’t want to be him some day. I didn’t want to be a pet, a human toy for the amusement of the fae.

  Bekind transformed into the cat and returned to her place at my feet.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Grim scolded her.

  She swatted him with her paw before curling up and falling asleep again. The questions began again. The fae could be frustrating sometimes, getting distracted easily because they had all the time in the world. However, I got a kick out of the theatrics. Every time a fae stood to ask a question, he bowed or curtsied and mentioned half of his bloodline in an attempt to sound important. I watched for Deorad, but he didn’t appear.

  “Did you know the fae who wanted to sacrifice you?” a fae asked.

  “Brathnach,” Brendan declared.

  “You weren’t there, apparently,” the fae said wryly.

  “What other black-winged faery wore an eternal smile?” Sorcha snapped.

  “Besides,” Brendan said, “I saw him through the memories of my host body.”

  “He wanted me to die,” I said loudly. “I said no, and he was going to make me, except the… host body helped me.”

  “Helped you how?” the fae asked.

  “He told me I had to be willing. Then he helped me escape. He pushed me up the stairs and into freedom even though… he kept me safe. The smiling faery was chasing us and wanted to kill us both.”

  A hunchbacked old lady limped over using a walking stick, the wood as gnarled as her knuckles. But her eyes sparkled with youth. She began her questions. With each of my answers, she stooped a little less, and her skin smoothed, until finally, she was a tall young woman with a beautiful smile.

  She banged the walking stick on the ground two times. “Truth,” she declared before turning into a dove and flying away. The stick disappeared before my eyes.

  The very first questioner stood before me and bowed. “The girl speaks truth. Therefore, she is a valid witness. Go sit with the king you support, Witness. Your deed is done.”

  There was a round of applause, and the pixies surrounded me to lead me over to Brendan. He nodded and patted my hand when I sat next to him. I felt the joy in the air, the relief from the others. But all I could think about was Drake and how I had just helped end his life.

  “We shall begin the final—” a fae began.

  The sound of stamping feet interrupted him. A small army of fae marched to the centre of the meadow, carrying a litter surrounded by a black veil.

  “Sadler,” Brendan murmured. “This should be good.”

  The veil was dropped, and Sadler made a hand motion. A warrior at his side removed his helmet. His son. Drake’s father.

  Murmurs flew through the crowd as the fae took in the face that resembled Brendan’s.

  Sadler raised a hand for quiet. “Let me speak before you make your choice. The boy who would like to be king had his turn at power. He was frivolous and foolish and wasted his chance. He has made a lot of claims, but as you can see, he stole my grandson’s body to do this. This is wrong. The dead should stay gone, and the young and able should never be replaced by a ghoul. I claim this: The younger should never succeed the elder. My claim comes before my son’s, and my son’s before his son’s. The true path is clear. Choose wisely. This king can have my grandson’s body if I can have his throne.”

  Brendan rose to his feet. “My father is dead. My host body’s final wish was to end the life of his own father. Even Sadler’s grandson knows that I am the only choice. I am royal. I can contain the power. I seek to right the wrongs I once made. That does not make me weak. That makes me wise. Sadler’s bitterness has spawned a monster. There can be only one choice. Make the one which will lead you to glory, not the angry end of a bitter old man. If Sadler dies, you’ll be left with his son. Deorad will never be fit to rule.”

  While Brendan spoke, a hooded figure moved toward Deorad. Something in the movement triggered a memory.

  “Um, Grim?” I whispered.

  “I see,” he said. “She’s a foolish one.”

  The hood was thrown back, and a dagger shone in Ronnie’s hand as she stabbed Deorad in the back. He doubled over, and she held the dagger to his throat, yanking his head up by the hair.

  “Where is he?” she demanded. “Where is my baby?”

  “What baby?” Sadler asked. “Who is this human?”

  “He took me,” she said through gritted teeth. “And he sent me home with a baby growing in my belly. I thought I’d hate the child, but he had golden hair, and he looked like a cherub. They said he died, but I knew it was a changeling. He took my baby. He took my real baby. My baby didn’t die. I know you, fae. I know what you do. He tortured me, and then he took my baby. Get me my baby, and I won’t slit his throat.”

  “Your child was weak,” Deorad spat, an awful smile on his face. “If I had taken it, you would be dead. But you couldn’t even give me a living son. You—”

  With a scream made up of years of pain, sorrow, and bitterness, Ronnie stabbed him in the neck. She kept stabbing, hunched over the fallen body, even as her hands slipped in the blood. She kept screaming, stabbing, losing herself, until guards grabbed hold of her and swiftly removed Sadler’s son’s body from sight.

  Brendan ordered his guards to take her away.

  “She’s mine!” Sadler cried.

  “She’s the king’s,” Arlen replied.

  “I have to go to her,” I said. “Can I?”

  Brendan nodded. I assumed the vote would begin, and hopefully, the loss of his heir would go against Sadler. But I couldn’t stop seeing Ronnie’s face, the horror and realisation as she attacked Deorad. She’d had a child, lost that child, and probably lost her mind as well.

  I followed the path of the guards. Ronnie had been taken to a tent where the pixies were cleaning the blood off her. She sat there, her face pale, her eyes wide, and her hands shaking.

  “Ronnie?” I whispered, stunned by the buckets of bloody water. “Are you… I mean…?”

  She rocked back and forth. “I knew the rules. You said I could come, and that counted as an invitation, so I came to see him, to find him.” She stared at me, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. “Can you find my baby, Cara? You know, don’t you? Why won’t anyone tell me where he went?”

  I choked back a sob and held her as tight as I could as her body rocked with her cries of pain. I felt nothing but pity for her, despite the madness, despite the rage.

  Some of the pixies escorted me out of the tent so they could finish cleaning Ronnie. They laughed and cajoled, pulled my hair and pushed me until I lost all sense of my bearings. They pushed me through the orchard, and I looked around in confusion.

  I was alone. “Where is everyone?”

  They didn’t answer. They were gone, too. Feeling a sense of urgency and danger, I tried to retrace my steps, but I kept walking in circles. I heard someone call my name. A woman’s voice. Thinking it must be Bekind, I ran toward the sound.

  Sorcha came out from behind a tree and held out a dagger, the tip perilously close to my throat. “It’s begun,” she said excitedly. “They’ve voted, and they’ll claim him as king. He doesn’t need you anymore.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Hasn’t there been enough death already?”

  “I’m the queen of death,” she said without a trace of humour. “This is what I live on. Your death would give me strength. Your death would make everything better. But I just want you to leave, Cara. Go back to your life, and
stay out of our business. He’ll forget you soon, forget the path you set him on, and return to the one we planned.”

  “There’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re—”

  She waggled the dagger. “You little idiot. That’s what you think this is? I’m not an infatuated human child. I’m not doing this out of jealousy. I’m doing this because it’s best for my sisters. He’s forgetting us, and I can’t let that happen. I’ve given up so much. They’ve given up everything to let me play this game, and I can’t lose.”

  I took a step back, but she came forward just as much. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

  “Then go. Let us part ways here, and all will be forgotten.” She pushed my hip with her free hand, and her eyes widened. “No. No! This can’t—”

  I took a few steps to widen the space between us. “Okay. This isn’t my battle. I don’t care what—”

  “You must die,” she hissed.

  “What? You just said I could go. I agreed to leave!”

  “That was before I knew the truth.” She came at me, forcing me back against a tree. “I see now. I understand. You’ve played a better game than any of us. You’ve persuaded him that making us all toe the line is the best path, but where does that put my sisters and me? Will he decide we can’t taste death anymore? Will he decide another should sit by his side? I’ve crawled my way up the ladder, child, and I won’t let anyone take that away from me. I’ll be queen because that’s what’s best for us, not a pathetic, weak—” She glanced to her left and swore. “Not now.” She swung a fist and walloped me in the head.

  I fell back and collided with the tree trunk just as everything went black.

  Chapter Thirty

  I awoke cold and stiff. I saw trees and leaves, and a trail of sunlight drifting between them.

  My memories returned in a flood. I started to sit up, but something held me down. I looked over my body and saw nothing restraining me, so I tried again. There were some kind of invisible shackles on my wrists and ankles, holding me to a stone altar.

  “Hush, little one,” Sorcha cooed behind me.