Truthseeker Part 2

aTime in the Barrow-lands doesnat move the same way it does in your world. I told you Iave been searching for you for a century. Thatas true. In your world, itas true. But in mine, Iall have been gonea"ten days, perhaps two weeks, no more. The wounds of my brotheras death are still fresh, and someone has a secret to protect.a aBut why attack you? Why set a-a spell to sense your arrival?a Lara stumbled over the concept even as she understood that it was a true one; shead seen magic used repeatedly in the last few minutes, alien but real.

aBecause whoever is behind this has to know I wouldnat return without a truthseeker,a Dafydd said quietly. aBecause my return sets into play events that someone wishes not to see explored. Now.a He took a cautious breath, tightening his hand around hers. aNow, if youall help me sit up, and forbear from repeating that phrase again, I think I can take the edge off these wounds.a aThat phraa"you mean the Faa"a Dafydd gave her such a sharp look that Lara clamped her mouth shut. aSorry,a she said after a moment. aWhat does it a do to you?a aYou saw what it did to the nightwings.a Dafydd grunted as he sat up, strain making his hand tremble in Laraas. aI have thought, substance, presence that they do not. It might take a full exorcism to obliterate me. Iad prefer not to find out.a aBut why?a Dafydd lifted his gaze to hers, eyes weary in the moonlight. aBecause I enjoy living, Lara.a Amus.e.m.e.nt creased the corners of his eyes at her obvious exasperation, and more carefully he said, aOur courts, our people, are effectively immortal. We can die through violence but not through age. Thea"a He drew a breath through his nostrils, sweat against his cheeks, and Lara realized that as he spoke to her he was carefully exploring the edges of the nightwing-made wound against his ribs. aThe price we pay for that,a he said tightly, ais a lack of a soul, as your people see it. It makes the name of your creator painful to bear in the best of circ.u.mstances and deadly in the worst. Forgive me,a he added, and ceased explanations to whisper again in the liquid tongue head used before.

Firefly sparks of gold glimmered and gathered with his words, until they seemed to reach a critical weight and dove beneath his clothing. Lara held her breath, leaning in to catch a glimpse of torn and b.l.o.o.d.y skin weaving itself back together under the lightas guidance. Long moments pa.s.sed, injury mending before Laraas eyes. Then Dafydd took a deep breath, straightening. aBetter, I think. Iam sorry, Lara. Ia"a Lara leaned forward and stopped his apology with a kiss.

Ten.

Surprise widened Dafyddas eyes before they closed, before the light touch of his hand brushed Laraas jaw. It was long moments before she broke away, retreating only a few scant inches to gaze at him. aHave I earned this,a he murmured, aor is it merely a human response to danger? Itas nota"a A mix of amus.e.m.e.nt and chagrin coursed through Lara, ending in a smile. aDafydd.a aYes?a aShut up.a aThat,a he said, aI can do.a Her shyness fled in hungeras wake, and her tailoras hands were sure of themselves as she pushed his jacket from his shoulders. It was easy to open his shirt with quick twists of the b.u.t.tons, though Lara knew, if she let herself think, that she was behaving more like Kelly than herself. Kelly would revel in high emotion and the pa.s.sion of a moment, and understand what the tightening around her heart meant when she saw Dafyddas injuries. Kelly would know why watching Dafyddas miraculous healing sent fire burning through her body and desire riding every pulse of blood. Kelly, not Lara, would act the impulse to kiss the Seelie prince.

Kelly, Lara thought as the cool taste of Dafyddas mouth overwhelmed her, would be proud of her. And then she stopped thinking of Kelly at all as urgency swept her, fingertips exploring the newly healed gashes over his ribs. Heat emanated there, the warmth of accelerated healing, and he hissed a low sound at the comparative chill of her touch. She drew back and he caught her wrist, shaking his head. aItas all right. Your hands are cold.a aYour skin is hot,a she countered with a tiny smile, then pushed him onto his back, dew soaking through his suit jacket and shirt almost instantly, and lowered her mouth to kiss the still-reddened injuries on his torso.

He was beautiful. She lowered her mouth to kiss the welts that had moments earlier been slashes in his skin. From so close, she could study the lines of his body without seeming to stare, exploring with fingertips and lips. Long, strong muscles under her touch, sensually male without being overdone. His stomach jumped beneath her kisses, just as a human manas might.

A sudden crescendo of certainty suffused Lara, bringing with it a reminder of the impulse that said Dafydd ap Caerwyn, human or not, was home. That he, among all the men she knew, was the one she belonged with. Smiling, she pushed up his body to find his mouth with hers again, and skimmed a hand to his waist, tugging open the b.u.t.ton of his pants with ease.

His brief laughter made her hesitate, finding his gaze with her own and discovering a smile in it. aNot so fast,a he murmured. aYou have me at an advantage here.a Humor lit his eyes, though an undercurrent of desire darkened amber to gold. A shiver of hope ran through Lara, an antic.i.p.ation of seeing that controlled strength unleashed not in battle but with pa.s.sion. Feeling its release, not just seeing it. He slid his fingers to the collar of her blouse, unfastening b.u.t.tons, his gaze never leaving hers. She swallowed, trying to catch her breath, then offered a tiny nod that was all the permission Dafydd needed. Her blouse and bra disappeared so quickly it might well have been magic, and Dafydd pushed her back until she sat above him, darkness swallowing the gold in his gaze as he studied her.

aDafydd?a Her voice trembled, jitters resurfacing in the face of his intense examination.

aWe have so little time, Laraa"a aThen maybe we should make the most of it.a Lara touched her lips to his again, hopeful.

Dafydd groaned, then caught her again and rolled in the gra.s.s, putting himself above her. aYou make an excellent argument. Lara, Ia"a aMerrick ap Annwn lies dead and you dally with mortals in the glade, Dafydd?a A cold voice, sharp with disapproval, snapped through the darkness to drown Dafyddas words. Dafydd dropped his head, teeth bared as Lara stiffened and stifled a shriek.

aSome things,a the voice went on, anever change.a aPlease.a Dafydd spoke through his teeth, eyes on Laraas. She glanced away, understanding his anger was for the rude interruption, not her, but still unable to hold his gaze.

He lifted a hand to touch her jaw, gentleness in the gesture making it an apology. Lara glanced back at him, then offered a feeble, embarra.s.sed smile. Dafyddas answering smile was a grimace as he lifted his head to respond. aAt least do me the favor of counting my crimes correctly. Iave never before dallied with mortals, Emyr.a He drew Laraas bra and blouse across the gra.s.s, returning them to her as he got to his feet, and made a barrier of himself so she could dress with some semblance of privacy.

The men and women beyond him were a dozen strong and mounted on white horses made blue by night shadows. They were armored, all of them, riders and horses alike. At their head was a man who could have been cut of moonlight, his gaze cool and sharp as the stars as he looked on Dafydd. aHave the years in mortal guise left you with no remembrance of how to greet your king?a aMy lord father.a Dafydd bowed deep and low, dragging his fingertips across the clothing-littered gra.s.s and coming up with his own shredded shirt. aForgive me. Crossing over was something of a trial.a The kingas pale gaze slid to Lara, a smirk twisting his mouth. aSo I see.a Discomfort more profound than embarra.s.sment shivered over Laraas skin at his pointed sarcasm. There was no lie in his words, only a thick mockery, so strong as to set untuned chords pounding in her head. She tugged her shirt on as she climbed to her feet, still half-hidden behind Dafydd, and muttered, aThereas no need to be nasty,a as she b.u.t.toned it. Emboldened by being more or less dressed, she looked up to find the kingas cold gaze on her.

Had Dafydd not called him father, Lara would never have guessed the relationship. Dafydd was golden where this man was ice. Straight silver hair poured over his shoulders, and his eyes were so pale blue as to be white in the moonlight. There was no gray in him, no warmth, and the angles of his face seemed blade sharp. Cold and cruel, Lara thought; not the kind of man to go to for comfort. His needle-straight posture and the arrogant lift of his chin warned even the attempt away.

Resplendent armor doubled his cool inapproachability. The breastplate and cuisses shone in the moonlight, so delicate and beautifully worked it hardly seemed they could protect the wearer from harm. He carried a helm tucked under his arm, though it had left no mark on the straight fall of his hair, and the sword he wore was unsheathed, ready for war. Beneath the armor he wore garments that might have been woven of newly thawed water, so fine that Lara studied their make with longing despite the manas arrogance.

aDafydd is my son, and this my domain,a he said. aI will be a nasty a where I choose.a Lara tasted pleasure in the absolute truth of the words, and astonished herself by sniffing dismissively. aNot if you want me to help you figure out who killed your son.a The harshness of her own response struck her too late, but the king seemed a far cry from a father in mourning. His regard snapped back to Dafydd, who was beautifully composed, in spite of being barefoot and shirtless in the gra.s.s while his father rode in resplendent garb. A smile pulled at Laraas mouth, then fell away as the monarch spoke.

aMy a son?a Incredulous disdain filled the fine voice.

Dafydd stood his ground, one hand fisted in the shirt head retrieved. aMy brother. Born of your blood or not, Father, Merrick was my brother more than Ioan ever could be. I knew Merrick,a he said more softly. aIoan is a stranger to me.a A hiss rippled through the attending host, angular eyes narrowing, color coming to sharp cheekbones. Some made distasteful faces, looking away, as though Dafydd had said something unexpectedly repugnant. To Lara, though, the truth of his words rang strong, like church bells in her mind, so loud she could barely imagine no one else heard it. Painfully aware that she was the stranger here, among people who had known each other for lifetimes, she pulled a deep breath and took a step forward, determined to defend Dafydd.

The king made a sharp gesture, cutting her off before she spoke. aMerrick ap Annwn was no more than a hostage for good behavior. It shames me that you speak of him as a brother.a aIt shames me that you do not.a Dafyddas voice was low with anger, emotion turning the chords of truth to harsh sounds. But unlike his father, who spoke as truly, there was something more to Dafyddas words. The kingas truth was sharp to the point of brittleness, almost discordant. Dafyddas was tempered, as if compa.s.sion rendered conflict to music.

Lara fell back the step shead taken, shaking her head with quick violence. Subtleties in truth were beyond her talentas scope: all she could tell was truth from lies.

But Dafydd had called her talent immature, not as an insult, but as a promise. Her gaze returned to him, slender and golden in the moonlight, then went to his father, whose offense was writ large on his angular face.

Her every instinct told her to placate the anger of a powerful man, and her job had taught her to tread gently. Treading gently, though, was not the same as backing down; her talent, after all, was in making them look their best. False flattery did neither the tailor shop nor its clients any good.

Nor would it do an elfin king any good. The thought gave her confidence, the same unexpected surge that had come on her as shead crossed through the Barrow-lands door. Lara made her hands into fists and stepped forward again, moving quickly so courage couldnat fail her. aDafyddas telling the truth. He thinks of Merrick as his family, and wants to find his killer.a The kingas gaze returned to Laraas, mild with unpleasant amus.e.m.e.nt. aAnd you are so certain of this because you carry a truthseekeras power. A mortal. A child,a he said disdainfully. aWhen neither has ever been so blessed or cursed in my memory, which stretches back beyond the dawn of mortal time.a Hairs rose, p.r.i.c.kling Laraas arms and neck. She tilted her head, searching his words for the untruth. aDo your people only become truthseekers when theyare adults?a Skin tightened over the bones of his face, making him ghoulish. aWe do not reckon childhood the way your people do.a aYouare not answering me. Iave been able to do this my whole life. When does the power show up in your people?a The kingas lip curled. aIn childhood.a aHah!a Lara rocked back on her heels, pleased with herself. The motion brought a sensation of warmth, Dafydd closer to her than head been. Siding with her, she thought; protecting her. It took an unusually long moment to tamp her smugness over catching the Seelie king in his exaggeration. In her own world she wouldnat stand her ground against a man like him, but in this one, he was expected toa"dida"inherently understand her gifts. aThereas not much point in being theatrical. If youare familiar with truthseekers at all, you should already know dramatizing just sets my teeth on edge.a aBut the truthseeking talent does not mature for centuries.a The king sounded petulant, like a child unaccustomed to being thwarted.

aMaybe among the Seelie,a Lara said. aBut Iam human.a It took everything she had to not glance back at Dafydd, seeking rea.s.surance for that statement. His hand touched the small of her back, warm and comforting, as if he understood her hesitation. Bolstered, Lara went on. aI donat have centuries to mature. My talent would have to grow up faster, too. I can stand here all night picking apart your half-truths, but Iam here for a reason. Dafydd thinks I can help you find a murderer. Iam willing to do that.a She lifted her chin, eyes narrowed as she studied the king, and the certainty of knowing when to make a challenge came over her. aI mean, unless you donat want to find the killer.a

Eleven.

Ice built in the kingas eyes, turning them from pale blue to clear. Lara felt color rise in her face and wondered abjectly if the Seelie blushed, or if she looked all the more human and alien for the sudden color in her skin. But she refused to look down; refused even to blink, meeting the monarchas fury with her own forthright challenge. She was an invited, if not entirely wanted, guest. She wouldnat lose face and risk her tenuous status, not when she had only one certain ally in a very strange place.

Dafydd might have warned her, though. The dour thought sent a trace of humor through her and her blush faded as she glowered back at the Seelie king.

Whose gaze faltered, just briefly, lids shuttering his eyes. A trace of tension left Laraas shoulders, surprising her; she hadnat known she had the ability to stare a man down, much less recognize when he so subtly capitulated.

aWhat I wish,a the king snarled, ais to have an end to battle. We do not ride to greet my wayward son, but to make haste back to our citadel ahead of the black armies that dog us. Tell me, Truthseeker. Can you see an end to our battle? Can you tell me who is victorious?a Laraas spine straightened, drawing her taller than she normally stood. aAll I know is if someoneas telling the truth. Iam not a prophet.a The king sneered. aThere were once truthseekers of such power they could speak a thing and it would by force of their will become true.a Dafydd, at her side, stepped forward as if to defend her, but Lara lifted her fingers to stay him, studying the king cooly. aReally. And what happened if both sides of a war had a truthseeker predicting theyad win?a She turned away, feigning disinterest, though nerves clutched her stomach.

Dafydd caught her eye, and laughter blossomed within her, burning away the fear created by her boldness. She saw herself suddenly from his eyes, saw them both from his perspective, and from the kingas as well.

She was merely mortal, and had the audacity to turn her back on an elfin king. The man whoad brought her there was half naked, wounded, and had been caught dallying with her very mortal self. It took very little imagination to name them both a disgrace, and yet in the face of good sense, in the face of soothing his father, Dafydd ap Caerwyn grinned at her. It was a broad, open expression, full of approval, and she tried not to laugh as she wondered how often anyone put the king in his place, never mind a human woman chastising an immortal monarch.

Shock seized that monarch, leaving a silence into which Lara said, aYou didnat say anything about a war when you asked me to come here. Do you think thatas why we were attacked?a with accusation carefully tamped out.

Almost, at least: there were notes of anger and fear well buried in her words, but airing them would show a weakness that she didnat want the king to see. Guilt twisted Dafyddas expression, washing away his glee, and he shook his head, honest admission of fallibility. aI didnat know it had come to this. If Iad knowna"a He broke off, visibly aware of his phrasing and of Laraas interest sharpening on him. aI still would have asked you to come,a he finally said. aBut I would have warned you. I didnat mean to bring you into a hornetas nest.a Lara pursed her lips, studying him, then nodded. aGood choice,a she said quietly. aPlat.i.tudes and rea.s.surance wouldnat have been as good an answer, even if you meant them well.a She turned back to the king, well aware shead dismissed him once already and that he would be unhappy with her.

Fair enough; she wasnat especially happy with him. aYou donat look like youave been fighting, and this doesnat look like an entire army. Are you really at war already, or are you just a vanguard?a Just, she realized an instant too late, was a poor choice of words: a king would not appreciate being just anything.

aMy host and I have ridden to see our enemiesa numbers,a Dafyddas father said tightly. aTheyare far greater than our own, and the magics I have left behind will only stymie them for so long. Until dawn, if weare fortunate. The battle will happen then. You spoke of an attack.a His attention went from Lara to Dafydd, as though she was unworthy of answering.

aNightwings,a Dafydd said. aAt least a dozen of them. When was the last time they plagued us, Father? Not since Rhiannon died, I think.a The king went still, as though his iciness had taken over even himself. aThey have come forth a time or two since then, but never in force. Theyare mindless creatures and must be controlled by someone of strong will.a aYou mean royalty,a Dafydd said softly, and his fatheras lip curled.

aThe Unseelie court is a blight on this land. Come dawn, we will wipe them from it.a aDawn,a Lara repeated. aHow many hours away is that?a She heard Dafyddas indrawn breath, and wondered at it before realizing she had repeatedly spoken to the king as an equal. That was almost certainly not to be done, and he gave her a cold look before deigning to respond.

aSome ten or eleven. Moonrise is not so far behind us yet.a aThen by your majestyas leave,a Lara said, and for a rarity was able to revel in sarcasm and sincerity as one, aIad like to go to your headquarters and see if I canat get to the heart of this mess before an army shows up on your doorstep.a Any sensible choice, Lara thought, would have put her on horseback with one of the armored guard who rode with the king, and Dafydd on another. One unarmored person riding with an armored one had to be more comfortable than two armored people riding together.

Still, one of the guard had chosen to ride with another, leaving her horse free for Dafydd and Lara to share. Lara was mostly grateful: her sole experience with horses was a childhood memory of one stepping on her foot. It hadnat hurt much. The ground had been soft and its broad hoof had simply pushed her sandaled toes into the earth, but it had left a lasting impression of the animalsa size and strength. She had been wary of them ever since, much to the disapproval of her horse-crazed cla.s.smates in elementary school.

Grat.i.tude, though, was mixed with pique. She was almost certain shead been saddled with Dafydd because none of the elfin riders were willing to sully themselves by riding with a human, and that the one whoad offered up her horse had chosen discomfort over contamination. Lara would have been offended, if the arrangements hadnat granted her the chance to mutter, aI think youad better fill in the blanks,a at Dafydd as they rode. aStarting with who are the Unseelie, why are they coming to war, why you called Merrick your brother when heas not, and why it didnat sound like a lie.a aBecause he is,a Dafydd answered softly, and there was no discordance in his voice, though theread been none in his fatheras, either, when head disavowed Merrick ap Annwn as his son. aI have a blood brother, Ioan ap Caerwyn, who is my fatheras son by my mother, Rhiannon. Merrick isa"wasa"the son of Hafgan ap Annwn, the Unseelie king, and theyave been hostage to the courtsa good behavior their entire lives. Merrick grew up with me. Iave barely met Ioan.a A dozen questions crowded through Laraas mind, and the one that came out was the least important: aAre they second sons?a aFirstborns. Ioan and Merrick are heirs to the thrones. It was when I was born that the treaty was made. Emyras luck in having sons worried Hafgan. With a second heir, my father might have risked trying to push the Unseelie back into the waters they came from.a Lara closed her teeth on a second rush of questions, frowning at the horseas alert ears. There was no visible road ahead of them, only forest and meadows, but the animals went with confidence, following a path she couldnat see. The horse flicked an ear, as if aware she was paying attention to it, and Lara shook herself, trying to clear her mind. aThe Unseelie are a?a aThe other peoples of the Barrow-land.a Dafydd drew breath to explain further, and Lara raised a hand sharply, cutting him off. Then she s.n.a.t.c.hed at the saddlea"there was no horn, the leather cut more like the English saddles shead seen in a few movies than like the Western ones she was more familiar witha"and clenched her stomach, uncertain of her balance.

Dafydd slipped an arm around her waist, warm and rea.s.suring. Lara released her white-knuckled grip on the saddle carefully, relaxing incrementally against Dafydd. aThanks. Iam not used to riding. And the Unseelie came from the ocean?a Her voice went up dubiously on the last word, earning Dafyddas chuckle.

aSo our legends tell us.a For a second time he started to say more, and Lara shook her head, not trusting herself to raise a hand again. The horse snorted, sounding for all the world like it was making commentary on her fear. She blinked, then, daring brought on by amus.e.m.e.nt, she patted the animalas shoulder.

aI donat need all the history. I just need enough to understand. Why did they exchange their firstborns? I thought second sons were more usual.a Insofar as shead ever thought about it at all, at least. Lara could hardly imagine anyone in the modern world partic.i.p.ating in exchanges of that nature.

aWea"both Seelie and Unseeliea"live a very long time. One of the prices we pay is that we have very few children. When Ioan and Merrick were the only heirs, warfare was rarely devastating, because neither king would risk their only child. When I was born, Emyr had an advantage. It was Hafganas idea to exchange the firstborns.a aBetter to not raise his own son than to risk losing him in battle?a Lara shook her head. aWasnat anot fightinga an option?a aThe Barrow-lands are small,a Dafydd said with a shrug. aBefore the Unseelie came from the oceans, there was enough land for the Seelie. Since they came, though, weave fought over the earth time and again.a aHow long ago was that?a Dafydd shook his head, movement felt rather than seen. aAs long as I can remember.a Lara twisted to see him, wondering how long that might be. The horse side-stepped and snorted irritably. One of the guards, another woman, caught its bridle with an easy grip. aIt is time immemorial to most of us since the Unseelie came from the oceans and began to fight us for our green growing places. I am Aerin,a she added with the air of someone unaccustomed to introducing herself.

aIam Lara. Itas nice to meet you.a The perfunctory phrase was one Lara had learned she could say without discomfort creeping over her. Aerinas hair was blue in the moonlight, and her eyes yellow, disconcerting colors that emphasized a lack of humanity. Lara glanced away, then back again, not wanting to be rude either by dismissing the woman or staring at her.

aAnd you,a Aerin said after a momentas silence. Then she inclined her head toward Dafydd, murmuring a phrase Lara didnat catch, then saying his name in a more familiar manner.

aAerin.a Dafydd loosened his arm from around Lara to take the Seelie womanas hand briefly, a smile in his voice. aHow long has it been?a A sting of envy stiffened Laraas spine and the beleaguered horse huffed again, obviously displeased with her seat. Chastened, she tried to relax again. Shead met Dafydd only a few days earlier, and could hardly hold old friendships against him.

Her own thoughts chided her with dissonant tones, and Lara gave a huff of her own, quiet echo of the horseas. She couldnat reasonably hold old friendships against him, and with that half-amused amendment, the off-key notes in her mind subsided.

aLonger for you than for me, I think,a Aerin said. aTen days, Dafydd. Ten days with no answers, and a week of that with skirmishes along the valley borders. Merrickas death must be answered for, or weall all pay the price.a aWhich is what? War?a aWar,a Aerin said crisply. aThe ruin of our people. The drowning of the lands.a Her attention slid to Lara, then back again, and it was with a note of affected diffidence that she asked, aAnd how long has it been for you?a aThe drowa"a Lara looked away, trying to hide her face as a spasm of triumph seized her. War, the ruin of her people, and the drowning of the lands evidently came secondary to Aerinas personal concerns, which suggested Lara wasnat the only one fighting envy.

Dafydd, though, gave no hint of recognizing it in either of them as he said, aSo little time we wouldnat mark its pa.s.sing, here, and yet so much time in the mortal land that I no longer recognize what it became from what it was. A century,a he added, so lightly the long years might not have had any meaning to him. aA decade there for every day here, it seems.a Horror banished jealousy and its petty triumphs as Lara twisted to stare at Dafydd again. aThatas not going to happen to me, is it? You said Iad be home in time for dinner!a He shook his head hastily. aNo, no. You will be. The worldwalking spell has been charmed on your behalf. For a little while we can hold time in step, one world to the next. Youall be gone no more hours at home than you spend here, but for my part, there was no knowing how long it would take to find a truthseeker. Even after only ten days here, weare on the brink of war. A century might have seen the ruin of us all.a Lara exhaled noisily, slumping in the saddle. aI think thereas too much you didnat tell me.a The horse whickered agreement, turning with its fellows down a trail that became, as she watched, a broad avenue lined with trees that reached for the stars. At its far end, both impossibly distant and mirage-close, rose a building that looked like it had been carved of moonlight, pale and stunning against the foreground of green-black trees.

aWhere did thata"a Lara straightened again, eyes rounding. aI didnat see us coming up ona"a Despite her poor riding seat, she bent to look over Dafyddas arm at the fading path theyad taken. aI shouldave been able to see that a long time ago. Why couldnat I? What is it?a aThe citadel of the Seelie,a Dafydd murmured. aWelcome to my court.a

Twelve.

aYour court.a Aerin made a sound remarkably like the horseas regular snorts. aWatch your tongue, Dafydd. You donat want your father to hear you say that.a aOur court, then,a Dafydd said affably. aI meant nothing by it. Itas my home, after all.a aAs it is all of ours.a Emyras cool voice broke over their conversation, warning that head overheard Dafyddas claim. aYou are not appropriately dressed for court, Dafydd.a Dafydd managed to sweep a bow around Lara, whose eyes were all for the citadel. It glowed in the moonlight, pouring so much brilliance from its white walls she couldnat understand how she hadnat seen it as they approached. A fanciful answer, magic, leaped to mind, then remained there, its honesty ringing true. Certainly its lavender-hued light was unlike any earth light Lara had ever seen, and even from the ground she could see the delicacy of tall towers winding their way toward the sky. The path beneath their feet had turned to flagstones, though the horsesa hooves made no sound on them, like they still walked on gra.s.s.

aI will remedy that, Father, never fear. And as for you, Lara, I think Aerin can help you.a Dafydd swung down from the horse with more grace than Lara could imagine having, then helped her down and made her graceful, too.

She was unexpectedly stiff as she hit the ground, as though theyad been on horseback far longer than it had seemed. Startled, Lara cast a glance toward the moon, trying to gauge its travel through the sky. It had crossed more distance than shead realized, pushing the hour very late. Still gazing at the moon, she rubbed her back and asked, aHow long was that ride?a Dafydd hesitated, not so much reluctance, she thought, as struggling for words. aItas the horses,a he finally said. aThey choose the easiest path, and only some of it is a noticeable. Weave ridden for perhaps two and a half hours.a Lara turned to him, gaping, and his smile turned apologetic. aThe Barrow-lands are not much like your world, Lara. Iam sorry, but I swear the lost time wonat count against us when we bring you home. Are you all right?a aIam aa Lara wobbled her head, knowing she looked silly but unable to express herself more coherently. aYeah, I guess so. I just thought wead been riding about twenty minutes. Is everything here like that?a aRather a lot of it, Iam afraid.a Dafydd gave her another crooked smile, then gestured to Aerin. aShe has a sister not much taller than you. Would you like to borrow an outfit to meet the court in?a Lara held her breath a moment, searching for her equilibrium, then let out an explosive sigh. Clothes that werenat wet and gra.s.s-stained would help her regain her balance, if nothing else. aPlease. That would be great. Thank you.a Aerin dismounted with the same dismaying grace Dafydd had shown. She was taller than he was, and brisk as she said, aWe have only a little time before the court is gathered. Will you come with me?a aOf course.a Lara shot Dafydd an uncertain glance; then, at his nod, hurried after Aerin.

The Seelie woman made no allowance for Laraas shorter legs, striding through phosphorus halls whose permeating glow had no apparent reliance on torches or other obvious light sources. Lara caught glimpses of open s.p.a.ces within the citadel, stretches where forest seemed to break through china-white walls and become part of the building, but she had no time to linger and wonder: it was clear Aerin would leave her far behind if she didnat focus on keeping up.

It was clear, too, that she would be hopelessly lost without the taller womanas guidance. By the time Aerin gestured her through doors to what proved to be her private rooms, Laraas stomach was tight with nerves bordering on panic. She had crossed into a world that wasnat her own, a world where time and s.p.a.ce bent to a horseas will, and she had just left the only person she knew here. Kelly may have teased her about not taking risks, but this one now seemed like idiocy. No one in her right mind would have taken the chance Lara had just taken.

An untuned violinas sour notes screeched through her mind, objecting to her last thoughta"Lara did, at least, believe herself to be in her right mind. aMost of the time,a she breathed aloud, and cast a glance upward, taking in the room Aerin had led her to.

It soared, distant ceiling edged with delicate cornices that made earthly gingerbreads look gross and squat in comparison. Globes of light, emitting the same soft glow the halls did, swung around each other near the ceiling, shifting the roomas shadows. Tapestries hung down the walls, picked with silver and gold and blue, as though someone had threaded moonlight and sunshine and water to weave them. Subtle patterns teased Laraas eye and faded again when she looked directly at them, the tapestries becoming nothing more than shimmering imageless cloth.

This room was clearly a sitting room, a public area. There were recognizable chairs and couches, though, staring at them, Lara became convinced their wooden frames were grown, not carved or fastened. The padding was of pale soft cloth, cool colors everywhere.

Which made the emerald-clad girl in the middle of the room all the more remarkable. She was vivid, the first Seelie besides Dafydd whom Laraad seen wearing anything but moonlight shades. Her hands were gathered in her skirts and her green eyes were wide with excitement, making her look rather like Cynthia Taylor when her attention was caught by a new project at the bespoke shop. Lara offered a swift, surprised smile to the girl, whose own smile lit up with youthful delight. aIam Myfanwy, Aerinas sister. She said you wanted to borrow one of my dresses?a Lara gave Aerin a startled look, and the other woman shrugged. aWe arenat, with close friends and relations, relegated to mere vocal speech. Impulses, ideas, emotions can be shared, if not words. I sent ahead to let Myfanwy know we were on our way.a aI think I have the perfect dress,a Myfanwy said breathlessly, and within minutes Lara found herself in the unusual position of playing dressmakeras dummy. She had spent so many hours as the tailor that she was surprised to discover she was self-conscious, and kept stiffening as the sisters adjusted a gown meant for a taller woman. It wasnat, she told herself with some despair, that she was short. The Seelie were just unnaturally tall. Aerin, kneeling to st.i.tch a hem, was still more than half Laraas height.

aHow long have you known him?a Aerin glanced up at Lara with studied nonchalance. Pretending to try to put Lara at ease but in reality testing the waters; it was very much the same indifference Lara had affected when Dafydd had offered Aerin his hand. Faintly amused at their awkward camaraderie, Lara smiled.

aIn hours? About eleven, over the course of five days.a aOh,a Aerin said with an odd note. aOur stories tell us we find your kind easy to glamour and pull into our world at a cost to your own lives. If thatas what Dafyddas done, Iam sorry.a aHe didnat.a Aerinas eyebrows shot up. They were nearly white, like her hair: the blue tones had faded once moonlight was left behind, and her yellow eyes had proved spring green. aWould you know?a The question hung between them, marking out the silence between heartbeats. Lara felt heat crawl into her cheeks, an admission of uncertainty broken by a light tug on her hair and a shy, fascinated trill of laughter as her ears were uncovered.

Aerin reached around Lara and smacked her sister on the thigh without losing hold of the work she did. aBehave. The Truthseeker is a guest here.a The words twisted in Laraas ears, the sense of them clear, but the language itself wholly unfamiliar to her. She shook her head once, a sharp motion, and frowned at the woman kneeling in front of her. aWhat did you say?a aI said behave.a This time Aerinas speech was clear again. aI apologize for Myfanwyas impudence.a aBut I hearda"a Lara drew a slow breath. aYouare not speaking English, are you. Of course not. Why would you be? What are you speaking? Why do I understand you?a aIt will be part of the spell Dafyddas cast to bring you here,a Aerin said after a moment. aIf you didnat understand me, itas because I used our high tongue to scold her.a aI understood what you meant.a Lara pressed her lips together as too many thoughts fought for precedence. Aerinas question was a good one: she had come so willingly she might well have been influenced, unknowingly, by magic.

Might have been. There was one clear risk to that gambit, one that she put into words slowly. aI understood what you meant,a she repeated. aNot the words, but the idea of it. The truth behind it. If I can sense the true idea behind words I donat even know, you tell me: Would you dare cast a glamour to trick me into coming to your world?a Aerin folded her hands in her lap, studying Lara. aPerhaps not. Not if I thought there was any chance you might realize it, and I would a.s.sume a truthseeker would. You should still be cautious of us, Lara. All of us. Even Dafydd.a Chimes poured from her words, ringing true and clear. Lara, fist still knotted in the fine fabric, nodded, and Aerin lifted a hand to gently loosen Laraas grip on the skirt. aThen I think youare ready to greet the court.a * * *

She had not expected Dafydd to be at his fatheras side.

In the moment after she a.s.similated the sight of the slim golden prince beside his fatheras iron thronea"no, it wouldnat be iron, a small part of her recognized: fairies werenat supposed to be able to bear the touch of iron, and so for all of its cold metallic weight, the kingas throne could not be iron. His fatheras silver throne, and that was an idea even more overwhelming than Dafyddas cool remote presence at the kingas side. The throne, tall and spired and shining, engulfed Emyr. Lara felt embarra.s.singly mortal for being so impressed at a chunk of precious metal.

A very large chunk of precious metal, to be sure: more than most humans might expect to see in a lifetime, much less displayed ostentatiously at the head of a courtroom. Lara shook herself, not caring that every eye would see her do it: she had no reason for pretense. She was a stranger and meant to be awed.

It would have been all right, though, if it hadnat worked quite so well. And Dafydd, as if catching a hint of her thoughts, quirked a corner of his mouth, which went much further in restoring her equilibrium than she had imagined possible.

He would, of course, be at his fatheras side. He was a prince of this realm, and for all she gathered he wasnat precisely the favored son, there was nowhere else he could be without presenting the appearance of a schism within the royal house. Lara knew enough of politics to understand personal feelings fell a distant second to the illusion of a united front. And they did: the rest of the Seelie court rippled away from them, fading into obscurity when viewed alongside the king and prince. There were hundreds of people pressed into the throne room, all of them slim and ethereal and inhuman, but it was the royals who arrested Laraas attention.

She, though, held everyone elseas. Shead known she would: that was the purpose of being presented to the court. Knowing it, though, and feeling the weight of so many gazes were different things. If it werenat for a fear of doing her elegant gown an injustice, Lara thought she might turn and flee. She was a tailor, almost invisible to even the people she worked for, and she had spent most of her life trying not to call attention to herself or the discomfiting gift she possessed.

A gift that every person in the room knew she had, and which they all hoped might give them the answers they sought. Lara, quite certain royalty was supposed to break the silence, cleared her throat and squeaked, aLook, if Iam supposed to ask everybody in this room if they murdered Merrick ap Annwn, wead probably better just get started.a A ripple of subdued laughter turned Laraas hands into slow fists beneath the long pointed sleeves of her borrowed dress. She looked the part of one of Dafyddas people, or very nearly: shead seen that in Myfanwyas mirror.

The gown was probably the finest thing she had ever worn, despite having been made for someone else. Its tall, open-throated collar brushed her jaw and plunged to a narrow V that spilled down the bodice, making the most of her height. The bodice was wound gold and russet velvet, woven alternately until it made a textured cinch that shaped her figure to remarkable slenderness. It loosened at a dropped waist to float into the long, light lines of the skirt, layers upon layers of thin silken gauze. The colors were perfect for her, bringing vitality to her pale skin, and in the gown, she might well have been one of the Seelie, if unusually pet.i.te.

And then she opened her mouth, and marked herself as absolutely and unquestionably alien to the Seelie realm. The king stiffened, becoming a blade of ice. Dafydd touched a hand to his fatheras shoulder, murmuring, aShe means no offense. Her country has no king and no protocol in speaking with royalty. Sheas afraid, and trying to hide it.a The king relaxed fractionally, evidently satisfied by the idea that Lara feared him. She wondered if Dafydd had been as impossibly arrogant as his father when head left the Barrow-lands to roam the mortal world, and wondered, too, how deep and shocking the change in him must be, if that were so. He must have lived half a dozen human lives in the century head spent in Laraas world, but only a matter of days had pa.s.sed here, in his own. He may well have returned a stranger to the life and people head known. The idea sent a pang through her, as though an unexpected wound had opened and left her with no way to heal it.

aIf I may, my lord,a Dafydd offered, as much to Lara as his father. The king sniffed and lifted a finger in agreement. Refusing to be sullied by speaking with a mortal, truthseeker or not, Lara thought. She caught Dafyddas gaze, struggling against the urge to roll her eyes. The Seelie princeas mouth quirked, but he replaced the beginnings of a smile with solemnity as he lifted his voice to address the court.

aI have brought to you the truthseeker we sought. Born of the mortal world and carrying mortal magic, Lara Jansen has chosen to come here, a place so foreign to her home that itas a thing of legend and childrenas tales. She knew me from the moment we met: knew me to be other than what I claimed to be, and in so knowing proved her magic. We are all in her debt, myself most of all.a His voice softened as he brought his attention to Lara.

aMyself most of all, for the scant days that have pa.s.sed in the Barrow-lands have been a full century in her world. Her willingness to join me and search for the truth of Merrick ap Annwnas murder has ended an exile that has left my heart bereft. I would ask you to do her an honor, and offer her the thanks of all our people.a A thunderous chant answered him, and Lara flinched straight. She patted the noise down with her palms toward the floor, embarra.s.sment burning her cheeks, and mumbled, aThank you.a aI think you might be able to ask us as one, Truthseeker,a Dafydd said as the calls faded away. aOnly if you sense discordance in the answers would you have to trouble yourself to ask us individually if we are guilty of this foul deed.a Laraas eyebrows shot up, her distress wiped away by Dafyddas sheer pomposity. He pursed his lips, clearly judging what head said by her terms, and amus.e.m.e.nt creased his features as it had moments earlier when the king had been equally haughty. The impulse to tease him rose, then faded again: she was there to fulfill a duty shead agreed to. aDafydd, there haa"a Another gasp rushed around the hall and Laraas gaze went to the gathered courtiers, her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion before exasperated comprehension swept her. Shead breached protocol by using his name so casually. Well, the Seelie court would have to adapt: she wasnat, despite an outward similarity, one of them. aThere must be a thousand people in this room, Dafydd. Thereas no way I can tell if a handful of them donat answer, and if they donat, thereas no truth or lie to sense.a aA compulsion can be laid,a he offered. aOne that will oblige speech, though it cannot force the truth.a Laraas eyebrows shot upward. aI take it you donat have a Fifth Amendment. You cana"a She turned away from the thronea"turned her back on the king, eliciting yet another shocked intake of breath around the rooma"and put her fists on her hips. Only Dafydd, she thought, would see how her nails bit into her palms: how she used the bold stance to hide her own worry. aAnd youad let him?a she demanded of the court at large. aYouad let him compel you to speak?a aHe is our prince,a Aerin said into a silence no one else seemed willing to break. aWe have nothing to hide from him. Of course weall allow it.a Lara, loudly enough to hear in the quiet of the courtroom, muttered, aYou really arenat human,a and turned back to Dafydd. aAll right. If thatas acceptable within your justice system, itas all right with me. But if itas not someone here, what are we going to do about the rest of the Barrow-lands?a Another smile spilled over Dafyddas face. aWeall cross that bridge when we come to it.a

Thirteen.

Elves obviously didnat say aweall cross that bridge when we come to ita: a rumble of comprehending bemus.e.m.e.nt rolled through the court before their prince began murmured words of enchantment. As when Aerin scolded Myfanwy, the sense of his words became clear to Lara. Then recognition leapt in her: it was the same tongue Dafydd had spoken in the fight with the nightwings, and she hadnat understood it at all, then. A few hours in the Barrow-lands had changed her, had deepened her talent already. Lara folded her arms around herself, warding off a cold that came from within. A murder investigation might take days. By the end of that time, she wasnat sure shead recognize herself as the same woman whoad walked through a portal torn in the air.

Though, truthfully, she had already stepped so far beyond her customary boundaries as to be unrecognizable. I contain mult.i.tudes, she thought, and wondered if the poet who had written those words had ever found himself torn between worlds and choices.

Dafyddas incantation ended and the court gave a collective sigh, their attention turning to Lara again. She tightened her arms around her ribs, then imagined how fragile and afraid she must look, huddled like that. It was the stance of a woman who didnat want to be noticed, but shead come here to offer help. She straightened, taking a breath deep enough to strain her tight-woven bodice, and met the eyes of those closest to her.

Light eyes: they all had light eyes, water blue to golden hazel and clear green, but none of them even close to the brown of her own. Lara stared from face to face for a few seconds, taken aback by uniformly translucent skin, pale hair, and eyes without a hint of darkness to them. For an instant their willowy forms and high-cheekboned faces looked not ethereal but inbred. Nowhere on earth could she imagine corralling a thousand pa.s.sersby from any handful of streets in that city and finding such an unbroken similarity from one face to another.

They were dying, she thought very clearly, then threw the idea off with a shudder. aIs there a way to test if the compulsion is working?a Dafydd made a nonplussed sound. aYouall have to trust me. Or ask everyone individually if theyare obliged to answer, in which case we may as well have not bothered.a aFair enough.a Lara backed up until her heels touched the first step of the throne dais, then stood on her toes. aI wish I could see you all. All right. I think Iam going to have to ask a lot of very similar questions to cover all the bases, so Iall start with a did anyone here murder Merrick ap Annwn?a She braced for a tide of answers similar to the thanks offered moments before, but was instead greeted with a thousand chimes, like single notes struck from distant triangles. They lifted her, played at her skin and the fine hairs at her nape, making her tremble with their music and taking her weight from her feet. aNo,a she whispered back into the purity of their response. aNo one here murdered him.a A sigh of relief tempered with concern washed over the court. Lara felt a stab of sympathy. It would have been easier if one false note had played; if one person had come up untrue and therefore offered an end to their uncertainty. At the same time, the truth reverberating in their answers meant none of their friends was guilty of murder, and that was soothing, too. Lara bit her lower lip. aIs anyone here responsible, in any way, for Merrick ap Annwnas death?a Sour notes echoed in the courtas response. Lara pressed her fingers against the sides of her nose and bared her teeth behind the steeple of her hands. aThat was an awkward question. Let me try this: Does anyone here feel guilt over his death?a Pure tones rang out in disparate answers: hundreds upon hundreds answered no, truthfully, but a handful more said yes with as much truth. Glances were exchanged, frowns and sharp looks, and in a few places the courtiers shifted, making distrustful s.p.a.ce around those who had answered in the affirmative.

Lara nodded, lifting a hand as though she conducted music. aWill those of you who said yes please answer this next question, and the rest remain silent: Why do you feel guilty over Merrick ap Annwnas death?a Repeating his full name felt necessary, like anything less might allow the men and women she interrogated to squeak by with a truthful answer that didnat address what Lara wanted to ask. Her heartbeat was sick and fast in her chest, full of worry that she might let something slip by unnoticed. She was a tailor, not a lawyer.

Answers flooded back, more than one word this time, many of them mumbled with shame. I didnat like him, or I wished him ill; I wanted him out of our courta"all true answers. Dafydd stood rigid with tension at Laraas side, his gaze lingering on those who responded truly with an answer he didnat like. He looked betrayed, Lara thought, as though those who hadnat liked Merrick struck at him personally with their distaste.

Lara nodded again, more to encourage herself than the court. aThe same group, please answer this: Do you believe your feelings may have created a situation that led to Merrick ap Annwnas death?a Some did, or were, on further questioning, afraid they might have. The s.p.a.ces around them grew, their comrades distancing themselves from a.s.sociation with possible murder. Those who stood abandoned did so with grim pride, their eyes warning that such slights would not go unforgotten.