Court of Rogues Page 13

  “I do not know.”

  An unexpected wave of disappointment washed through me, crested, and headed out to sea. I’d been both eager to understand and leery at the same time. If Cynwrigg didn’t know, the unsolved riddle had to wait for another day—perhaps another time entirely. “What happened with the court?” I asked, relieved to move the topic away from myself.

  He tilted the bottle of beer he’d been holding and took a deep swig from it. “It would be nice to say everyone jumped into their new roles as spies to flush out traitors, but most of the court shied away from turning in people—and animals—they’ve known all their lives.”

  Something about that didn’t sit right. “Why?” I asked. “Do they want more innocents like Rona to die?”

  “I’ve been considering…everything. Before I left, my cousin, Aedan, was starting to look like an enemy. To be on the safe side, I corralled him until I can return.”

  I gasped at the implications. “You’re afraid the court is riddled with rogues?”

  “Titania’s tits, I hope not. Maybe one or two, but surely not all twelve of them.”

  Perhaps sensing Cyn’s agitation, Midnight jumped from his lap to mine. “Nothing much better here, buddy,” I told him and rubbed a special spot under his chin.

  “Even if it’s only one,” I spoke slowly, “they’ll alert all the bad apples.”

  “That didn’t escape me.” Cyn drained his beer and set the bottle on the floor with a thump.

  “How can you determine who to trust?” I flapped a hand his way. “Never mind. Rhetorical question.”

  He raked curved fingers through his hair. “I have to return to Faery as soon as possible. I just made the rounds in the casino, and I told everyone I might be gone for a few days.”

  “Don’t worry about helping me move. I’ll figure it out. Rent is paid on both places, so there’s no special hurry.”

  He angled a deeply speculative glance my way. I felt his power as it settled around my glamour, seeking a way inside.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “It seems I’m forever asking things of you, but I want you to come back to Faery with me.”

  The chair and I were done. To make a bad pun in a gaming house, remaining still wasn’t in the cards. Feet under me and cat on the floor, I said, “But that will be dangerous for you. I’m not welcome in Faery. Mother gave up everything, and—”

  “If I have my way, I’ll see her back within Faery’s gates too,” Cyn interrupted me. “I was tossing power about to break your glamour. I couldn’t. If I can’t drill through it, no one else in Faery can, either. So long as it’s intact, you should be safe enough, but it’s your choice.”

  “That librarian, Ysir, knew I was there.”

  “Aye, but not what you are. He was reacting to Witch magic in my rooms.”

  “Do you know that?” I demanded. “Have you spoken with him?”

  “No, but others have. If he’d labeled you a hybrid, someone would have come running to me. That kind of news doesn’t stay bottled up.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because everyone in Faery loves to gossip.”

  I shook my head. “Not what I meant. Why do you want me to come with you?”

  He hesitated before answering. Not long, but enough time elapsed for me to add, “The real reason, and don’t sugarcoat it. I’ll know.”

  I expected him to focus on our mutual attraction. Undeniably strong, it had to be driving him as much as it did me. So far, I’d been successful dodging its pull, but not without difficulty.

  He did no such thing. “This may sound odd,” he said, “overdramatic, but my instincts are sound. I’ve always trusted them, and they’re telling me we belong together through this conflict. That our magic is complementary. Faery obviously agrees. She wouldn’t have siphoned your power if she didn’t see it as a perfect match for her energies. Nor would she have labeled you daughter if there weren’t truth to it.”

  I’d begun to pace as I digested his thoughts. Much as I wanted them to be true, they seemed like a flight of fancy. “You’re looking for allies,” I murmured. “For someone you know you can trust. It’s not surprising—”

  He held up a hand. “Not the case at all. I’ll be the first to acknowledge I was a reluctant regent. The part about needing allies is correct, but I’m not so desperate I’ll resort to making things up. Saying they’re true to pretend they are.” He stood. “I need to leave, Dariyah. Will you come with me or no?”

  A sudden chill walked down my spine. I’ve never been much for prophecies, but I felt certain if I accepted my life would never, ever be the same. “Can I think about it?”

  “Let’s take an hour. We’ll crack a few heads together and move what you want to your new place. At the end of that time, I’m leaving, and I hope you’ll accompany me.”

  Insight hammered me. “You won’t be returning to Earth, will you?”

  “Depending on how things go, not permanently. I need to find a solid manager for the casino, but I could accomplish that in a couple of hours.” He dropped his hands on my shoulders. “Faery is no longer a benign place. I might not survive, in which case the casino won’t matter. You could be walking into danger even worse than what I face, if your dual nature is uncovered.”

  “Or not,” I muttered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Faery seems to believe I’m part of her. She saved me once. I don’t imagine she’ll stand back while someone slaughters me.” I left it there.

  “Maybe you’re onto something I hadn’t taken into consideration. I assumed she’d marked you because she viewed you as a Witch, but I could be seriously off base about that. Shall we leave Midnight here until we’re done with the moving project?”

  “Nah. Let’s take him. I’ll set him loose him in the old place until the dust settles.”

  Cyn nodded. The familiar feel of his power swathed me in a teleport spell. I’d almost decided to go with him, but I’d keep my mouth shut until I was certain. I’d assumed the pull of Faery was so strong because of my Fae blood, but I was beginning to suspect it ran far deeper than that.

  Mother had known. She knew everything. Too bad there wasn’t time to pay her a visit and tell her it was long past time to reveal the whole shebang. Gloves off. No more secrets. They’d served a purpose, but their day was done, and they’d turned into stumbling blocks. Impediments that might mean the difference between Faery’s survival or her demise.

  12

  Chapter Twelve, Cyn

  Dispatching Oberon’s minions had been quick and almost fun. A shifter, a Witch, and a Fae, they’d gone down like bowling pins in an arcane alley. Midnight disappeared as soon as he hit his familiar turf, and Dariyah sorted the few belongings she wanted to transport, dropping them in a central location in her single room. Clothes, cooking implements, and electronics made a messy pile.

  “No furniture?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Nope. I’ll buy new. The apartment is a whole lot bigger than this flat, so I’d need stuff anyway.”

  I eyed the growing pile until she stood over it and said, “There. That should do it. What do you think?”

  “Two choices. We can construct a container and move everything in one batch.”

  “Or?” She arched her red brows.

  “Several trips with what we can carry. The container will take a few minutes to put together, but will save time in the end.”

  “Show me. It’s not magic I’m familiar with.”

  I mixed earth and air into a bombproof weave around her possessions. Once it was complete, I told it to shrink everything. We ended up with a good-sized carton. A smile formed on her full lips. “Wow. Neat trick.” She bent to lift one end. I got the other.

  The scent of her magic wafted around me, heady as a fine, old wine. When it cleared we stood in a large, empty room. “You weren’t exaggerating about this being larger than your last place,” I commented.

  “Beggars can’t be choos
ers,” she said. “I needed something fast, and this was available. It’s more space than I require, but at least I won’t have to watch my back every minute I’m outside. This is a better neighborhood.”

  “I know. I bought a place not far from here, except I never spend any time there.” I spoke a few words, and the container expanded to its original size and vanished; its contents spilled onto the pale-beige rug. The moment had come, and I faced it squarely. “Are you coming to Faery?”

  “I am.”

  A blast of pure joy raced through me, but I felt selfish—and worried. What if something happened? What if my pretty words about our magic being additive were nothing beyond wishful thinking? “I’ll do my best to protect you,” I said, and meant it.

  She shook her head. “You will do no such thing. I’m capable of caring for myself. If you split your attention too many ways, it might not go well.” Walking to me, she nested her head in the hollow between my neck and shoulder. “We’ll take care of each other.”

  Her remark touched me in a way nothing else had, maybe ever. Because I lacked words to convey the warmth fluttering through me, I said, “I like that idea.” To cover my discomfiture, I drew a travel spell together and loosed it. Moments later, the walls of my chamber in Dubrova castle formed around us.

  My rooms were empty save Aedan still wrapped in his cage of doom. He’d sunk into a crouch, arms around his knees and wasn’t moving, an improvement over yelling and ripping his hair out as he cursed me.

  I felt a small ripple as Dariyah strengthened her glamour. Good woman. She pointed at the cage. “I assume that’s your cousin. The one you can’t trust.”

  Her extended hand caught Aedan’s attention. He shot to his feet, mouth moving, but nothing leaked through my sound shield. I didn’t want to hear him spew poison, anyway. “Aye, it is,” I replied.

  “What are you going to do with him?” She settled her hands on her hips as she transited Aedan’s impromptu prison.

  “Good question. I suppose I can leave him here. The cage will hold him nicely.”

  “I have a better idea. Feed him to Faery. See what she thinks.” Dariyah had switched to telepathy, but I was fairly certain the sound shield cut both ways.

  “He can’t hear us. If we do that, it will place him where Oberon can free him,” I told her.

  “Are you positive Aedan’s on his payroll?”

  “Not 100 percent, no,” I admitted.

  She shrugged. “Maybe because Faery treated fairly with me, I trust her. I was vulnerable. She could have stripped me of power and gone on her merry way. She didn’t. Oberon may have stolen her capacity to talk with you, but she appears otherwise intact.”

  Dariyah’s mouth rounded into an O. I recognized that expression. “You thought of something else, didn’t you?”

  “I did, indeed. Let me dig through his mind, see what I come up with. And then we’ll feed him to Faery.” She drew her brows into a thin line. “If he’s part of the rebellion—or whatever you want to call it—he could help us track down the others.”

  “And with a whole lot less effort than knocking on doors,” I agreed. “I have to free him, first, though.”

  “Too much magic in the cage to drill through?”

  I nodded, but she walked around it again, anyway, jabbing its weave with her brand of power. “Damn it. I’d hoped I could find a way through. I can, but it won’t leave me with enough juice to do much else.”

  “We’ll need to be quick,” I cautioned. “First thing crybaby will do is use telepathy to summon Oberon. The next will be trying to teleport out of here. I can short-circuit that part and hold him in place for as long as you require.”

  “I won’t need much time. Stripping minds of information is one of my specialties.” Her smile was cool and vicious. It was the side of her I’d seen in the casino when I made her free the dealer from the trance she’d imposed. Or maybe I hadn’t made her do anything. If she hadn’t wanted to let him go, she’d have destroyed his puny mind. All her years alone had honed solid survival skills.

  Another idea pushed to center stage. “I’m not sure I can finesse this, but the cage is already built, and—”

  “Yes!” She nodded enthusiastically. “Drop it back over his head as soon as I’m done, and then move him out of here and let Faery take over. Mother raised me on tales of sacrifices to Faery. The best use for that one”—she hooked a finger at Aedan—“is to strengthen the land. She’ll absorb his magic and cast the husk aside.”

  I’d heard those legends too, and discounted them as tales to keep errant children in line. I should have paid closer attention. Gathering power, I let it build to make certain I’d maximize our probability of success. On the far side of the cage, Dariyah was doing the same. Clearly intuiting we had something unpleasant in store for him, Aedan was beating the sides of the enclosure with his fists. Blood ran down his knuckles and the enchanted wall circling him.

  “Tell me when you’re ready,” I told Dariyah.

  “Almost. Okay. Now.”

  In one fell swoop, I jerked the cage upward, taking care to maintain its integrity. Aedan looked dazed. It took him at least a count of ten to understand he was free. Dariyah had long since latched on to his thoughts. I was ready for him to make a dash for freedom as he screamed for Oberon in telepathy that was probably audible for half a kilometer.

  I’d expected a teleport spell, but his magic was weak, and he was too shaken to execute anything quite so complex. He lurched toward the door. I jumped on him and pushed him to the thick carpet covering my floor. I’d presumed he’d land a few punches, at least attempt to fight back, but his warrior skills were as lacking as his magic.

  No wonder he clung to Oberon. If anyone needed a protector, it was the weak suck, poor excuse for a mage, sprawled beneath my bulk. I dragged one arm behind him, holding it a couple of degrees from breaking. My other arm was hooked around his neck, bending it back as I straddled his ass.

  A shiny nimbus surrounded his head reflecting blues and violets. In the middle of all that color, a stream of light flowed from him to Dariyah’s outstretched hands. Her face was twisted into a harsh expression, and she rocked back on her heels as if the sheer volume of information were daunting. As abruptly as her power had flared, she withdrew it.

  “All done.” She was panting but reached for the cage suspended a meter in the air above Aedan’s head.

  “Let me go. Please.” Aedan’s voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in ages.

  “Please, huh? We’ll let Faery decide what to do with you.” I released his throat, but kept his arm bent at an unnatural angle as I dragged him to his feet.

  He stared at Dariyah. “What are you? No Witch alive could do what you just did.”

  She stared back. “Eh, we’re more powerful than most think. It’s one of those well-kept secrets” Reaching upward, she hooked the lower edge of the cage with her fingertips.

  “Noooooo.” A long, low moan dribbled from Aedan. “Faery will kill me.”

  “So will Oberon,” I informed my cousin tartly. “He used you and however many others—”

  “Lots,” Dariyah cut in. “So many, it’s hard to fathom.”

  The statement alarmed me. I’d figured there were a bare handful of conspirators at most. I’d deal with the list later. I had a message to impart to Aedan, one I hoped he’d pass up his skanky ranks if he escaped Faery’s clutches. “Oberon’s vision was always to limit Faery to the Fae. How in the hell he conscripted non-Fae to implement his plan is beyond me, but you’re done here. How many others on the court are corrupt?”

  “She knows,” Aedan replied dully. “Ask her.”

  “She’ll know names, not where they fit into Faery. I’m asking you.” I gave his arm a shake. The bone must have been holding on by a few cells because I heard it break, followed by a piteous shriek from Aedan.

  “For the love of the goddess, man up,” I gritted. “Who else on the court is a rogue operator?”

  “All t
he Fae but Jess,” he moaned.

  I felt his pathetic attempt to muster healing magic. He’d never been this inept, so I asked, “Why are you so weak?”

  “Oberon has been feeding off them all,” Dariyah answered and dropped the cage into place.

  Breath banged through my teeth as I stared at a man I’d called both friend and kinsman. How could I have been so deluded?

  “We see what we want to see,” Dariyah said softly.

  “And what we expect is there,” I added. “He and I were young together. We—” I sliced a hand downward to distance myself from reminiscing about our idyllic youth. Whatever Aedan and I had been to one another, it was long dead. He’d known, probably for a very long time. Of the two of us, I was the slow learner.

  He was done pounding on the cage. Looking at him standing with slumped shoulders, arm hanging at an awkward angle, I felt sorry for him. He’d bet on the wrong horse, and it had been his undoing.

  Dariyah walked to my side and placed a hand on my arm. “How are you doing? He was your kinsman.”

  Her words drew me out of my musings. “Aedan fucked up. I have no business romanticizing his actions. And he sure as hell doesn’t deserve my pity.” Linking to the magic powering the cage, I sent it downward to the subterranean underpinnings of Faery. She could take things from here.

  If Oberon intercepted her and freed Aedan, I’d deal with it later.

  “Open your mind,” Dariyah said. “Most of what I dredged out of him doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me, but it will to you.”

  By the time she was done transferring information, my view of Faery had taken a definite downward turn. “Cynwrigg?” Her voice was gentle, and she tightened her grip on my arm.

  “Aye. Earth is looking better by the moment, but not until I clean up this mess.”

  “It’s so many,” she said. “I wanted to stop emptying his mind long before I was done.”

  “The hardest part for me,” I told her, “is recognizing the extent of bigotry riddling Faery. We’ve always looked down our noses at mages not native to our land.”