A Thief of Nightshade (27 page)

Aislinn was sprawled on the floor next to Aubrey, looking wayward and dejected.

He rolled over and Given caught sight of his paw and what they’d done to him. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she exhaled loudly.

“You’ve brought company.” The Goblin King turned from Ian. “Show yourself or my pleasantries end here.”

She looked to Ian for instruction and he nodded, clearly displeased by her slip.

She reluctantly uncloaked herself, ignoring the shock on Aislinn’s face.

“Those lips and playful brow. Where have I seen them?” the King mused as he sauntered to her.

She stilled as he traced her cheekbone with the pad of his index finger.

“You will remove your hand from the Princess,” Ian said tensely.

The

Goblin

King

immediately

acquiesced as though Ian had threatened him with fire if he did otherwise. “The daughter of Queen Saralia,” he said in awe. “You do favor her somewhat.

Sweetly so. No wonder you look familiar.”

Given felt sick at the thought of resembling her mother in any way, but the feeling only worsened as Ian continued to address the King. This is not how she’d intended to tell Aislinn who she really was.

“We have been sent by her Majesty to take your guests back to her court. She sends word to meet her there in two days.”

Aislinn was trying to get up and though he didn’t have human features, she could see the fury in his face.

“Just as they were led to you,” Ian continued, “her Majesty fully intends to keep the rest of her promises. Have you cords to tether his limbs?” Ian motioned toward Aislinn.

The King looked unsure; by his stance, Given gathered that her uncle wasn’t saying in jest that Cedrick was a formidable opponent, which brought to her mind serious concern for how they were going to get out of Koldavere unscathed.

“There is no need for physical restraints.” Given knew she sounded cruel and pitiless as the words passed over her lips, but Ian didn’t have the magical abilities that she had and she felt she had no other choice but to use them, regardless of how much pain doing so brought her.

“He is Ellohim. I can bind his will.”

Well, at one point she’d been able to.

Whether she could now or not was up for grim debate. What she posed was a fairly complicated spell and she was nowhere near where she needed to be for that kind of concentration. And even if she were lucky enough to pull it off, she had no way of knowing how long it would last.

Aislinn had made it to his feet and was steadying himself, seemingly for a rash and uncalculated charge, when Given stretched her left arm toward him and whispered the words quietly. He fought her the whole time and the revelation of her perceived betrayal grew clear as day in his eyes. He hated her, just as she had feared.

The Goblin King closed Aubrey’s eyes with a gentle sweep of his hand and at his command she fell limp. He scooped her into his arms and handed her to Ian.

“You will not allow her to wake before the coronation or your life will be forfeit.

Saralia’s protection or not.” Cedrick clenched his jaw as he awaited Ian’s response and Given could see that at any moment now he could realize how ridiculous this was, their showing up so unexpectedly, or he would remember perhaps her mother saying that she had no children.

“I will make sure,” Given said, “that Aubrey is returned to you, your Majesty.

She will never know Jullian as he once was, only as the Fae King. You have my mother’s word on it and you have mine.”

Given felt the anger radiating off a very still and physically calm Aislinn.

Cedrick smiled, his fears soothed.

“Then give her Majesty my deepest gratitude. I will meet with her in five days’ time.”

“Follow us.” Given spared only a brief glance at Aislinn as she curtly ordered him from the room.

GETTING OUT OF KOLDAVERE AND

GOBLIN
Keep wasn’t nearly as easy as Given and her friend seemed to think it would be. Which, for whatever reason, amused Aislinn. He followed them because he had no other choice and even if he’d had other options, they had Aubrey.

After several trivial scraps with the locals, where Given showed a completely unforeseen talent with a sword, they finally met another Fae who looked like Given’s friend.

A tall, thin Fae with curly brown hair nodded to Ian and bowed to Given, which made Aislinn feel physically sick.

“Princess, Ian. We’ve blocked the north and east woods. Your mounts are tethered to a tree a quarter mile from here. You should be able to make it back without interference.”

Given looked visibly relieved to hear it. “Thank you. I fear for Aubrey, Cale. Take her to my uncle. He’ll know what to do.”

Aislinn’s emotions were so strong that despite whatever spell Given had used on him, he shook in anger. As the Fae took Aubrey into his arms and shape-shifted into a Griffin, the thought crossed his mind that were he able, neither Given nor Ian would have eyes after he was through with them.

“I wouldn’t unbind him if I were you,” Ian said snidely, indicating that they should keep walking.

Aislinn was on all fours and Given had paced her walking to be between him and Ian. He growled low, knowing this would only prove Ian’s point, but he didn’t care.

“I wasn’t going to,” she said softly.

“You could tell him the—”

“I’ll tell him when he’s had a chance to cool off.” Given ran her hands through her tangled hair, then added under her breath, “If I’m lucky, he’ll listen.”

She’d lied to them. She’d lied to him.

A Princess, yet she dressed in armor that obviously wasn’t borrowed. It fit her too well. Her leather tunic covered her like a glove and the way her guards were fastened at her shins and knees did nothing but accentuate her figure. The same held true for her arm plates, which revealed how slender but defined her arms were.

He’d been too consumed by the idea of what she was, whether it was prostitute or Shade, to take note of what was plainly in front of his face. He’d seen her beauty.

He’d imagined a trace of shyness in her spirit, but he’d missed the fierceness beneath it all. She wore her attire like she’d worn it all her life; like she wore deception, easily and like a second skin.

Just like Merrial.

It wasn’t long before they found the horses. Aislinn dreaded following along behind them, like an animal, as they rode ahead of him.

Ian pulled a small brushed-suede pouch from his belt and tossed it to Given.

“It won’t last long, but it will free him from his curse long enough to get him where we need to be.”

Given opened the pouch and pulled from it a small round apothecary disc with a tiny cork in the end.

“Don’t ask how I got it.” Ian pulled himself into his saddle.

Given kneeled down in front of him and took the cork from the bottle. “Do I have to use all of it?”

“Yes.”

She poured the liquid into his mouth.

Aislinn noted, as she tucked it away into her pocket, that she had saved some of it.

Aislinn immediately felt the same shifting sensation that he’d felt coming out of the looking glass and closed his eyes to slow the spinning of his vision. After a few moments, the feeling subsided and he was able to stand uncertainly on his feet.

And unlike when he was in the mirror, his metallic limb remained, though he had a modicum of gratitude that it had shifted forms with him and looked like it would function like a normal arm and hand. He flexed his fingers, or he supposed Given had done that for him, seeing as she was controlling everything but his breathing.

Even that was speculation.

She took a deep breath before mounting her horse and willing him to get on behind her. He, by no choice of his own, wrapped his arms around her as he settled in. He could tell she was uncomfortable with him riding as close to her as he was and this gave Aislinn back some small measure of dignity. He felt just a little more in control. At least he thought he did.

Tentatively, she laid her arm across his, pressing her palm to the back of his hand in something of a rueful gesture. At least, he presumed that to be her intention.

That wasn’t its effect. At all. The very feel of her arm warmly against his made him lose his breath and for once in his life, he was grateful to have no will of his own.

And that’s when he noticed, or rather, remembered her wounds. She wasn’t uncomfortable because she feared him, nothing of the sort. He realized, as she had to lean partially back against him, that the pain she bore on Aubrey’s behalf would have progressed since he last saw her and she was in pain then, though she’d done everything she could not to let it show. This made Aislinn angrier because he simply couldn’t understand it. Why would she do such a selfless thing, only to turn around and hand Aubrey over to Saralia? That thought and the feel of Given in his arms fueled his quickly rising temper as they rode.

They rode for hours. He hadn’t been in his own form in so long that his muscles were exhausted faster than had he been in good shape. His back felt strained and sore, his arms stretched taut and weak. He wasn’t aware of any outward signs of his weariness, but Given slowed her mount to a trot.

“We need rest.” She practically fell out of the saddle and after willing Aislinn to follow suit and sit with his back against a tree, she crawled to lay face-down on a patch of moss.

Ian

didn’t

dismount

and

sat

arrogantly looking down at them instead.

“You made the choice to cast the suffrage spell. You need to understand the consequences of your actions. Besides, Agincourt is only half an hour’s ride at best and I have urgent business to attend to.”

Agincourt? Aislinn wanted to ask so badly, but without free will he could only listen.

Given looked like she couldn’t move even if she tried, but she managed to laugh at Ian. She coughed, clearly regretting the choice, but struggled through it and laughed some more.

“I don’t quite see the humor in this,”

Ian said tersely.

“Well, you’ve never seen the humor in much of anything. Ride home on your own. I know you are in no mood for this and we both know I can handle myself.”

“And have his Majesty ask why I felt it appropriate to leave his beloved niece with a creature who could easily kill her should that spell weaken any further. And have you given any thought to the spell wearing off before you get home?”

Aislinn

was

still

pissed,

but

strangely, hearing Ian voice him as a threat to Given offended him.

She looked at Aislinn then like she had in the cell that night. “He won’t hurt me, Ian. Not once he figures out why we lied to the Goblin King and why I sent Aubrey on ahead of us.”

She turned away from him and spoke softly

with

Ian,

who

had

finally

dismounted, perhaps assuring him that she would be fine. Aislinn wasn’t certain what was said because he was too busy arguing with himself. He frankly didn’t care where they were going or why. He didn’t trust any Fae and now he was beginning to develop serious issues with Shades. The façade of assistance was just that, a façade. Agincourt had no reason to fight the Winter Court, not when its King’s mortality was at stake.

Ian glared at Aislinn as he rose to his feet. “Touch one hair on her head, just one, and you’ll spend the rest of your days longing for when you were merely Ellohim.”

“Ian,” Given warned.

“Out of curiosity, why are you willing him silent?”

Aislinn

had

assumed

that

his

muteness was part of the spell, but as Given answered, he realized he’d been wrong.

“He has reason to hate our kind. His life as a human and his brother have both been taken from him by my mother and he heard me claim that fetid waste of Lyr as more than merely my own flesh and blood, but as my Queen. I doubt he has anything pleasant to say to me.”

Ian smiled, seeming pleased with her response. Before he mounted his horse, he gave Aislinn one more testing glance and then rode off, leaving them alone in the sanctuary of the woods.