Grave Dance Part 31

PC had thoroughly investigated the suite to his own satisfaction and curled up in the very center of a bed that looked big enough to sleep ten, but I was still pacing. I'd told Falin the basics of what I'd learned since he left me at his apartment. I didn't tell him everything-the shadows in the room whispered, and I was afraid they listened too-but I told him about Holly and the gist of what the accomplice was attempting. Then it was my turn to demand some answers. "So why are you here? In Faerie, I mean. I was more than a little shocked to see you at the winter court."

"If you stop pacing, I'll tell you." He patted a spot on the bed beside where he sat on the edge.

I didn't join him. If I crawled onto that bed I'd end up asleep. h.e.l.l, I wasn't sure I wouldn't fall fast asleep still standing, but I wanted to talk before I surrendered to sleep. I did stop pacing, though, forcing myself to be still.

"I might have shocked you, but you scared the h.e.l.l out of me." He stood and walked across the room to join me, since I wouldn't go to him. "I returned to my apartment and, well, I imagine you know exactly what I found."

The aftermath of the gryphon attack.

"The police and the FIB were already there. At first I thought they'd already grabbed you and shuttled you away to Faerie. When I learned they hadn't, I went out searching for you. I spent most of the night searching any spot I could think of that you might go. Where were you, by the way?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I replied, which was probably true, but again, with the shadows whispering in the corners, I didn't want to reveal too many secrets, even if these secrets belonged to my father.

"Well, sometime after midnight I returned to your apartment and these wooden blocks flung themselves at me. Then a pen lifted itself and started scratching out letters."

"Roy." He'd actually managed to find Falin and get a message to him. Of course, it sounded like it was the wrong message. "So if Roy told you I'd been nabbed by the skimmers, how did you end up in Faerie?"

"It took him thirty minutes to write 'Alex kidnap,' and once he got that far, I just a.s.sumed . . . Incorrectly, apparently." Falin looked away.

"It worked out," I said, and shrugged, but the movement went off course somehow and ended up a slight sway.

"Come on, let's get some sleep," Falin said, his arms moving to mine to steady me. "You can't save the world if you fall over from exhaustion."

I let him lead me toward the bed, but as we walked I muttered, "I'm not trying to save the world. I'm just helping my friends and-" I cut off as we pa.s.sed a large ebony desk. In the center of the desk sat a five-inch dagger with an ornate hilt. A dagger that looked suspiciously like my dagger, which I'd last seen when Caleb had dropped it in the hallway of the winter court. I shrugged off Falin's hands and moved to the desk, the sight of the dagger pushing back my exhaustion, at least a little. "How did this get here?"

The dagger buzzed lightly as I picked it up. It was definitely my dagger.

"Any number of ways," Falin said, looking at the blade from over my shoulder. "It's enchanted. This is Faerie and things move unexpectedly. The dagger likes you. Maybe a combination of all that. Maybe something else entirely."

Right. I fought the layers of skirt in the gown and shoved the dagger back in its holster. However it got to me, at least I was armed again. Like that will do me a lot of good if I need to draw it fast. What I wouldn't give to have my hip-huggers back, even with the pink chalk print. I resumed my pacing, using the energy that the short adrenaline burst had given me. Falin sighed as I pa.s.sed him.

"If I could figure out how to open a rift like the planebender's door, I could search all of Faerie for Holly," I said, fidgeting with the amulet attached to my bracelet. I'd seen the boy close the rift. Could I open a door as easily? The accomplice could be preparing to attempt the next ritual while we were stuck as guests of the shadow court.

I stopped, rocking back on my heels. I could try to open a rift. I could think of several worst-case scenarios, but none quite as bad as the land of the dead merging with mortal reality, and preventing that was one of the items on my to-do list-once I got out of this room. I lowered my shields. I hadn't been able to completely drop my shields outside a circle or heavy wards for years without grave essence reaching for me. h.e.l.l, even inside a circle, the world always decayed around me and chilled wind tore at my skin. But there was no land of the dead in Faerie. I dropped my shields, and it was as if I'd shrugged off a weight I'd been carrying so long I didn't even notice it until it was suddenly lifted.

No wonder Rianna prefers staying in Faerie. I could get dangerously used to this freedom. There wasn't even Aetheric energy to entangle my psyche or for me to accidentally pull into reality. Of course, that also meant I had no magic except the energy stored in my ring, and I couldn't draw on the grave. The feeling of freedom washed away in a sense of powerlessness, though there was still magic in the air, just not a magic I was used to. But I could feel it, which meant I could touch it.

That didn't mean I should. I thought back to the skimmers standing around the rift by the river, drawing down energy they never should have been able to touch until one skimmer actually ignited.

I would leave the foreign energy alone.

Taking a deep breath, I concentrated on the s.p.a.ce directly in front of my face. There was no Aetheric, no land of the dead, but there were multiple realities. I could feel them. Okay, here goes. Lifting my hands, I focused my will on parting the air in front of me as I forced my hands farther apart.

Reality moved but it didn't open.

I frowned at the air in front of my nose. I hadn't managed to open a rift, let alone a door. And I've been opening rifts by accident all week. It was just my luck that trying to do something I'd been doing by accident would lead to utter failure.

Well, not utter failure. The s.p.a.ce in front of me was empty, as in, no other realities existed inside it. I'd actually cleared a s.p.a.ce so nothing but Faerie remained. I reached out with my power and shoved. Reality moved again, bunching around the edges of empty s.p.a.ce like a sheet shoved away from the edge of a bed. I waved my hand through the s.p.a.ce, using no power.

Nothing happened.

I pushed with power, and reality shifted. Which is weird, but not helpful. Moving layers of reality didn't help us get out of this room. I reached out again, and then swayed as my knees buckled.

Falin caught my shoulders. "Okay, now I'm insisting that you go to sleep."

"I'm fine."

"You're trembling and you can barely stand."

Okay, he had me there. I leaned back against his chest, my eyes heavy. "You just want to get me in bed."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me where we touched. "I won't deny that, but I don't think you'll be much fun until you get some sleep."

True.

He leaned down and scooped me off the floor. I lifted a heavy arm around his shoulders and leaned into him.

"Do you love her?" I whispered the question so softly I wasn't even sure it made a sound, but Falin went stiff around me, every one of his muscles locking as he froze.

"What?"

If he'd heard me, he knew who I was talking about, so I didn't ask again. As the silence stretched, my chest tightened as if the dread I felt had become a hand pressing down on my lungs, slowing my heart.

Finally Falin said, "Once, I think that I thought I did."

"Do you still?"

"She's cold, calculating, and cruel, except for when she wants to be kind," he said, which I noticed wasn't exactly a "no," but he did start walking again.

"Why do they hate you? The other fae, that is?" Caleb, my father, and Nandin all disliked him, and I hadn't seen much evidence that the members of his own court liked him any better. "And why do they call you the queen's bloodied hands?"

"Your second question answers your first, at least in part," he said as he set me down on the edge of the bed. Then he took a step back, and conflict showed clearly in the hard angles of his face. He stared at me for a moment before he reached some conclusion, though it didn't seem that he liked what he'd decided. He closed his eyes and peeled off his glove. He opened his eyes again as he opened his hand, palm out so it faced me, but he kept his gaze down, not looking at me.

Thick, dark blood coated, or more accurately, saturated, Falin's palm. That didn't completely surprise me. I'd seen Falin kill before. h.e.l.l, he'd killed, or at least mortally injured, a gremlin to rescue me before we were even friends. The depth of the blood did shock me, at least a little. I could almost see it pooling on his skin, as if it would drip at any moment. How many had to die at his hands for there to be so much blood?

He looked at me, just a quick cut of a glance, and whatever he saw in my face made his shoulders tighten so fast his hand jerked back an inch. I don't know what I'd shown him, or if he'd only seen in my expression what he expected, but as he started to pull on his glove I jumped to my feet. I reached out for him, for his b.l.o.o.d.y hand. Yeah, the blood freaked me out, the fact he'd killed that many people scared the h.e.l.l out of me, but I trusted that they needed killing. And besides, I wasn't exactly in a position to judge anyone for the blood on their hands.

When I reached for his hand, he jerked away from me.

"Don't."

"I know it doesn't spread or wipe off," I told him.

He took a step farther back, still out of my reach, and studied my face as he pulled on his glove. "That's right, you touched the Shadow King." He shook his head. "I would never touch you with these hands, Alex. Not here."

I stared at him. Then I rolled down the top of one of the long opera gloves the queen had created for me and pulled it off my fingers. I held up my own b.l.o.o.d.y hand.

Falin's eyes flew wide. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. Then he grabbed my hand in both of his gloved ones.

"No, Alex. Who-" He stopped. "Coleman."

I nodded. "I'm not exactly lily white either."

He gently pushed my fingers until they curled over my palm, then closed my entire fist in his hands. "You shouldn't be stained by this. Let me take it from you."

"What do you mean?"

"Let me take the stain from you." He led me back to the bed as he spoke, which was good, as I was starting to get that electrical vertigo that happens every time you blink when you're really, really tired. I covered a yawn with the back of my still-gloved hand as I sank down onto the bed, and he said, "I don't know if I can take it from someone outside my court, but let me try."

I blinked at him, my exhaustion making the conversation harder to follow. Then a very important fact from what he said hit me. "Wait-so the blood on your hands, it's not all from people you killed. You took the stain from other people?"

"I have killed enough, Alex, believe me. But no, only a drop of it is blood that I personally spilled. I carry all the victims of the winter court. The taint from every duel, every monarch who killed to rise to or ensure power, and every soldier who killed in every war since the very first winter came to the world."

My stomach gave a little somersault. "How old are you?"

"Not so old as you're thinking right now," he said, and he smiled for the first time since this conversation began. "I was born after the Magical Awakening, and I took on the role of the queen's bloodied hands only a few decades ago. There have been many more before me who killed at the queen's bidding and carried the court's taint."

"So, circling back to my original question, they hate you because you have the worst job ever?"

He smiled again, but this time it was not a happy one. "Some hate. Some fear. Some are simply repulsed. I carry a lot of death on my hands. Nearly immortal beings do not like to be reminded of their mortality. The blood also gives me some benefits that make the other fae distrustful. Any weapon that I wield is deadly, even if it might not normally be so to fae. Wounds that I inflict are more likely to be fatal, while I can survive wounds that would normally kill-"

Yeah, I've seen that one firsthand.

"-The blood also pa.s.sed to me knowledge and skills from the warriors who came before me, so despite the fact that I am little more than a child according to many of the fae, I can battle the ancients and possibly win. That scares the fae, and makes me rather unwelcome."

I could see why. I crawled farther up on the bed and Falin followed.

"Let me take this taint from you. It would make no difference to me, but all the difference to you."

"No." I pulled my hand from him and fought the opera glove back over my fingers. While I wanted the blood gone, it wouldn't be right to give it away. I'd been the one who killed Coleman. h.e.l.l, I'd more than killed him, I'd cannibalized his soul, which had to be worse. While Falin might be able to take away the blood that Faerie forced to manifest on my hands, he couldn't remove the fact that I'd taken a life. I'd made a decision, and even if it haunted my nightmares, I still thought it was the right decision.

Once I'd pulled on the glove, I collapsed in the middle of the bed beside PC. The pillows were down and soft, the sheets under me silk and smooth. My eyes closed.

"Alex, you want to lose the dress, or at least the boots?" I didn't bother opening my eyes. "Not really." I was going to sleep-probably whether I liked it or not. Besides, I didn't know what kind of wake-up call the king planned for the morning. I didn't want to be caught half dressed or barefoot.

The bed didn't even shift as Falin joined me. I was lying on top of the turned-down covers, so he didn't try to crawl under them. He slid his arm under my neck, and I scooted closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. PC stood, circled twice, and then apparently decided he wanted human comfort more than a pillow. He climbed over me and tried to wedge himself between our hips, though six pounds of muscle didn't give him a lot of moving power. He ended up stretched out across both of us.

"I really messed up with the queen, didn't I?" I asked, close enough to sleep that I was thinking out loud.

Falin's arm tightened around me. "You did okay in the beginning. The dancers were a test. The first was an insult. If you'd accepted the changeling it would have acknowledged that you were not fae enough to be treated with the respect a Sleagh Maith deserves. The second was closer to your status, and was to appeal to your uniqueness. Offering the third accepted you as royal, and had you danced with Ryese, she'd have been planning your wedding ceremony by the end of the night. I think you threw her when you refused all three and then chose your independent green man." His thumb drew small circles where it touched my arm. "It was my actions that likely bought you an enemy."

"So why serve her?"

"I have no choice. I am bound to her, to her will and her word. When I became her bloodied hands, I became hers completely and truly. A monarch's bloodied hands can be her deadliest subject, so the bond is the curse's fail-safe. It makes me both a weapon against my queen's enemies and ensures that I pose no threat to her." He pulled me closer to him. "I won't be bound forever. The curse will pa.s.s to the next bloodied hands when my service to her is complete."

I thought about this as sleep pressed hard against me, but I wasn't quite ready for it to come yet. "Why did you become her bloodied hands? Why would anyone?" Power, maybe, though it came with the loss of choice and will, so it didn't seem worth it. Love? I cringed, fearing that would be what he told me.

His gloved hand moved up to my face, and he brushed back my curls. "I was born to be what I am." When I stretched to look up at him, he went on. "I was switched as an infant, and I grew up believing I was human. When I was sixteen I was brought to the court for the first time, to learn what I was, what I was meant to be. The queen's a.s.sa.s.sin. Her knight. Her bloodied hands. Sleagh Maith, while one of the most human-looking fae, have the lowest tolerance for iron and technology. With the changes in the world since the Awakening, she wanted her knight to be able to function as her great champion in both Faerie and the mortal world. That's why she had me switched." He paused. "I see the fae woman who birthed me once in a while. She let the baby she switched for me grow until he is about four. He's a handsome boy. I wonder who he would have been, if it hadn't been for me."

I wrapped my arm tighter around him and hugged him because I didn't know what to say. Though his delivery of the information was casual, there was a rawness to it that spoke of old pain. I recognized it. I'd heard it in my own voice before. So I held him, and he held me back, neither of us saying anything. I was drifting when he finally broke the silence.

"Alexis?"

"Mmm?"

He was quiet for so long that I thought he might have fallen asleep. I cracked my eyes open and found him looking at me. Then, as if he'd changed his mind about what he wanted to say, he pressed a kiss against the top of my head. "Go to sleep."

I did.

Chapter 34.

I was having the nightmare again. The Blood Moon hung red and swollen over my head. Coleman stood by my sister's bed, a dagger in his decomposing hand. He looked at me, half his face sloughing off as he leered. He lifted the blade.

I screamed and tried to run but tripped over the hem of my gown. A gown trimmed with delicate ice roses. I'd never worn a gown in the dream before.

"Alex! Alex, wake up."

Falin was suddenly in the dream, standing beside me. He shook my shoulders. "Wake up."

I blinked at him. The Blood Moon vanished. So did the bed and Coleman. But I was still standing in the exact same spot, Falin holding my shoulders. PC pawed the air in front of me.

I looked around. We were surrounded by shadows with no discernible source. And nothing else. I took a step forward and loose sand shifted under my feet. Where in Faerie is a desert of sand and shadows? I frowned. And why could I tell there were shadows in the darkness? I didn't know, but I did know that the shadows were somehow separate from the darkness.

"Where are we?"

Before Falin could answer, a scream shattered the darkness. My head shot up as a man in striped pajamas hurtled through the air, headed straight for us. His arms flailed around him, but that did little to slow his free fall. I ducked, which wasn't the most rational decision, but how often did people fall toward me? Not exactly a situation I prepared for. When the man was still a dozen or more yards over our heads, he vanished as suddenly as he had appeared.

I straightened, gasping for breath I didn't remember losing. "What was that about?"

"I don't know," Falin said, staring at the sky, "but he's done that a couple of times. He never hits the ground."

Right. I grabbed PC, cuddling him in my arms. The trembling dog didn't object to the attention. "Where are we?" I asked again.

"If I had to guess? The realm of nightmares."

Oh, now that sounded like a fun place. "How did we get here?"

Falin shook his head. "When I woke to your screaming, we were already here."