Read Blood Kin Online

Authors: M.J. Scott

Blood Kin (37 page)

The darkness was cold. A chill that sank into the bone, pain so sharp it felt as though I might shatter.

Sweet Lady, did it hurt this way every time someone entered the court? Or was it because I was half-blood? I had a moment’s panicked thought that I should go back, warn Guy. If it hurt this badly for me, what might it do to a human? But the blackness behind me felt suddenly solid, bricks of night forming a barrier to bar my retreat.

The cold intensified as I struggled for each step forward until I was sure my lungs would shatter—breaking to frozen shards. The cold bit at my skin, my eyes, my mouth, slicing at me until I was sure I must be bleeding.

You knew it wouldn’t be easy, Holly girl
.

But I hadn’t expected this. Not endless darkness and pain. I’d thought to face a wilderness perhaps, or a desert blocking my path. Not this horrifying absence of anything alive.

It felt almost as though I’d died already. Only the pain convinced me otherwise as I fought to keep moving. The chill sank deeper into my bones, the pain growing until it was all I knew and I couldn’t tell if I was even still walking. Everything hurt. Every part of me. All my instincts told me to stop. To lie down. To do whatever it took to make the pain leave. Instead, I summoned the faces of my mother and Reggie, summoned the image of Guy standing behind me, and took one last step.

Pain speared me again, tearing at me, and I screamed. But then, in the next breath, the aching chill was gone and I stood in the light.

It took a moment to take it in: a moment mostly filled with attempting to convince my lungs that taking another breath wouldn’t kill me. I stood in the middle of a vast marble floor, pure white with veins of black that seemed to shift as I watched. The space was empty. Above me a night sky glittered with stars. Not sunrise, even though moments earlier dawn had been breaking as the Seneschal led us to the Door.

The stars were none that I recognized, but then again, the City was hardly a good place for stargazing. The smoke of the factories and houses and railways obscured the night sky.

Despite the sky, there was light around me, as though I stood in bright sunshine. The contrast between the sky and the light made me queasy. But not as much as looking into the distance did. My brain couldn’t judge how far the marble reached, but it was a square despite its immeasurable size.

Each edge bled into a different scene. To my right a forest even older and wilder looking than Summerdale’s. To my left, an ocean. Behind me, I realized suddenly there was an equal vastness, though I had yet to take a step. At the edge of that was a mountain range, snowcapped and forbidding.

I turned back. In front of me, there was a garden, a vast lawn surrounded by hedges and rioting flower beds filled with flowers I didn’t recognize. At the far edge of the lawn was a building. Marble steps and pillars and a pointed roof. I walked toward it, my feet soundless in the grass, until I reached the top of the steps. A huge expanse of white marble lay before me. A chair carved from black stone, delicate and airy, stood in the middle floor.

A throne.

Her
throne.

Shit.

Suddenly I wanted to be back in the antechamber with Guy, to take his hand and run. But when I turned, there was no exit. No hint of walls and doors or forbidding darkness. No sign of Guy either, for that matter. If I was going to get out of here, then I needed to approach that throne and hope like hell its owner would appear to hear me. I’d made it this far. That had to be a good sign, surely? I steeled myself and took a step forward.

I had taken maybe ten more steps when I realized that there was someone walking toward me. I froze but the figure kept coming.

It was her. The Veiled Queen. As she walked, her robes moved and fluttered, a shifting mass of color. I couldn’t see her face because her head was veiled, as it always would be in the court. The veils moved too, though in a subtly different pattern from the robes, as if a different force moved them. As they rose and fell they seemed sheer. Not enough to hide anything behind them, but nothing could be made of her face but the veils.

I’d done it. The Door—the land—had let me through.

It seemed too fast.

Too easy.

I tried not to give in to the sudden sickening fear as I watched her approach.

At least there was no hint of black in the colors dancing around her. If the Veiled Queen wore black, someone was going to die. That was another part of Fae lore I knew very well. One I’d heard from other sources besides Cormen. All the tales agreed. Black meant death.

I sank to my knees as she approached, bowing my head.

I couldn’t hear footsteps, but the soft rustling of fabric warned me when she was close.

“Who seeks me?” she said. The voice was cool and light, beautiful as Fae voices tended to be. Neutral, or so I tried to tell myself.

“My name is Holly Evendale, Lady,” I said, hoping my own voice wouldn’t betray me.

“Evendale?” She sounded puzzled, but I didn’t lift my head. One didn’t look upon the queen until she had given permission. “Ah. I see. The evening sky about the hills.”

“Yes, Lady.”

“I didn’t know that sa’Inviel had acknowledged any by-blows,” she said smoothly. “Or invited them to court.”

“I am not here under sa’Inviel’s aegis, Lady,” I said.

“Oh?” The rustling increased and I tried not to picture robes and veils moving with greater agitation. Or darkening. “Then why are you here? Look at me,” she added impatiently.

I raised my head cautiously. No black, though my mind insisted the mix of colors was more somber than it had been previously. “I bring information, Lady.”

“What information does a
hai’salai
bring that is of interest to the court? And what do you hope to gain from giving it to me?” She beckoned me closer. She didn’t wear a Family ring, I noticed. Instead her fingers carried bands laden with jewels of every possible color.

A sign of her hold over all the Families?

Now was the time for the truth. If I could speak it. There was still the geas to overcome. “No price, Lady.”

“No? That seems unlikely. But tell your tale, little
hai’salai
. You have come this far and the Door did not dissuade you. Perhaps it shall prove a worthy journey.”

I took a breath, hardly knowing where to start. Then I remembered Guy. “Your Majesty, I had a companion. He was going to come to the court with me. But I have not seen him since I passed through the Door. Is he . . .” What? Alive? Unharmed? I didn’t know what to ask.

The queen shook her head, veils fluttering. “I do not control the land’s will, child. Not when it comes to the Door. He will appear when he is meant to. If he does at all. Say what you have come to say.”

I swallowed against the fear that Guy was lost somewhere in that darkness behind me. I couldn’t waste this chance. Couldn’t waste his sacrifice, were it true. “My lady, I believe there is a plot against you. A plot to break the treaties, to bring down the peace between the races.”

The veils swirled for a moment, colors deepening still. “Oh? And who is it that you think works against me,
hai’salai
?”

I opened my mouth to tell her and my throat clenched, pain gripping me. No sound came out.

The queen’s veils darkened further. “I need a name,” she said. “Or else I will have to believe you are wasting my time. I do not look kindly on those who waste my time, little halfling.”

I struggled to speak. Struggled to breathe. Nothing came out.

The queen straightened, started to turn away.

“Cormen sa’Inviel’astar.” Guy’s voice came from behind me. “He is the one plotting, Majesty. Against you, against the treaty. He has formed an alliance with one of the Blood. He has bound his daughter to do his work for him and she cannot speak the truth.”

The queen turned. The veils grew still, which was even more unsettling than their constant movement. “A geas?” She reached toward me. “Let me look at you.”

I forced myself to stay still when I wanted desperately to turn, to see if Guy was all right.

The queen’s hand raised my chin and I felt a wave of power wash over me. Her hand dropped away. “If there is a geas, I cannot sense it.”

My heart sank.

“But then, they are bound by blood. I cannot interfere in such ties.” Her attention moved beyond me. “What proof do you have, Guy DuCaine?”

“I believe that he—and perhaps others in your court—have formed an alliance with Ignatius Grey. Someone is funding Grey anyway. The Templars, and others, have been subject to Beast attacks recently. I believe Grey is behind that.”

Guy’s voice was blunt. Dispassionate. The tone, I imagined, he’d adopt giving a report to Father Cho or another superior officer. I wished I could see him but didn’t risk a glance.

“And why would Ignatius Grey be willing to do such a thing? What can he gain?”

“He wants control of the Blood Court. There is more, but if I tell you what, I may be aiding their cause.”

The veils moved again as the queen’s head tilted. “Then it seems we have a dilemma before us. One that requires a solving.” She snapped her fingers and a huge bronze bell suddenly appeared beside her, hanging in the air with no visible means of support.

“My lady, what are you—”

“Hush, child. There is only one way to proceed. Before the court.” She snapped her fingers again and the bell moved, tilting swiftly until it rang, an ominous shimmering note that vibrated around us like a warning.

Chapter Twenty-three

HOLLY

Before
the sound of the bell had faded, everything changed. Only the throne and the queen stayed the same. Around us, the roof filled with the Fae Court, hundreds of Fae appearing, as though all the invisibility charms in the world had failed at once. Behind the queen, a row of Fae, veiled like she, appeared. And to each side of us, Fae guards, armored and armed, stood in rows.

But apart from the last dying tones of the bell, there was no sound.

I kept my gaze on the queen. She was the most dangerous thing in the court, after all. So much power.

From behind me, I heard the Seneschal’s voice. “The court has been summoned. Hear the will of the Veiled Queen.”

The Fae sank into obeisance, in a thousand whispering rustles of silk and linen and whatever other fabrics made up the shimmer and shine of their clothing. I hastily followed, curtseying awkwardly in the voluminous robe. I had no idea if Guy followed my example, but I didn’t dare look away from the queen to see.

“Cormen sa’Inviel’astar, come forth,” the queen said, her voice ringing like the bell.

There was a murmur from the crowd as they all rose. Then I heard the precise click of boots crossing the marble. My father’s footsteps.

Cormen came level with me, shot me a glance full of menace as he bowed again. “My queen?” He straightened, his gleaming bronze robe shining in the sunlight.

The queen’s veils floated and shimmered, moving through blue before settling on gray. A shade too close to black for my comfort.

“Cormen, I have heard a tale today that does not please me.”

He bowed his head. “I am all sorrow to hear that, my Queen. Perhaps if you tell me this tale, I can find a way to mend it.”

“Perhaps.” The queen lifted her hand, gestured at me. “But first, I would have you remove the geas from this
hai’salai
.”

Cormen’s face twisted in rage before smoothing again, so quickly I thought I had imagined it. Would he risk arguing with the queen or do as she asked?

I had my answer soon enough. He gestured toward me and the room suddenly spun around me, nausea driving me to my knees as the binding unwound itself from my flesh.

“The
hai’salai
is insolent, my Queen. I merely sought to ensure her obedience in a matter of no interest to you.” His tone was smooth, but I heard the edge of malice.

Could he hurt Mama and Reggie? From a distance? Quite possibly. I had to make sure they were safe before this went any further. I pushed to my feet, still fighting dizziness. “He has taken my mother, my lady. And the one who stands as sister to me. They are in danger.”

“They are perfectly well, my Queen,” Cormen protested.

“That may be,” the queen said mildly. “But you will be so good as to produce these two humans. They can confirm what you say, no doubt. The
hai’salai
seems concerned and we would not want to break the bonds of our treaty.”

This time my father wasn’t so good at controlling his expression. He scowled at me, then gestured and my mother and Reggie suddenly stood to one side of us. Reggie looked exhausted, dressed in the same blue work dress I’d seen her in last. Beside her, my mother, wearing a pale blue Fae robe, looked confused and thin.

Alive. They were alive. It took a wrenching effort not to run to them, to touch them. But I couldn’t risk upsetting the queen with a breach of protocol. Instead I just smiled at them, blinking back tears.

“Holly,” Reggie cried. “Thank God. You found us.”

The queen’s head tilted toward Cormen. “That does not seem so willing. Still, we will deal with the humans later.” She turned her head to one of the veiled attendants. “Take them somewhere safe.”

The attendant bowed and Reggie and my mother were escorted away. I took a half step toward them as Reggie twisted to look at me, her eyes wide and frightened.

“Now,” said the queen. “Let us deal with the matter before us. Cormen,” she said casually. “You stand accused of treason against the throne.”

“The
hai’salai
resents me,” Cormen snarled. “She cannot be trusted.”

“That may be true,” the queen said. “Yet I cannot let such an accusation lie. Perhaps if you told us what task you had set her on that required a geas?”

Cormen went pale. “That is a personal matter, Majesty.”

“I am your queen, Cormen. You should have no secrets from me. Tell me. Else I shall think you guilty.”

I felt a surge of glee. There. She had asked him a direct question. A Fae cannot lie. Cormen would have to tell the truth.

Cormen turned and glared at me, hatred clear in his face. My hand dropped to my side, seeking the weapons I no longer carried. It was probably good that I was unarmed. Shooting my father dead in front of the Fae Court wasn’t exactly a way of guaranteeing my long and happy life. We stared at each other a long moment, then Cormen smiled.

My stomach turned over, my confidence sinking. I knew that look. It boded nothing good.

He turned to the queen. “My Queen, I claim trial by combat. I will prove my innocence on the blood of this
hai’salai
.”

Lords of hell
. I froze. Trial by combat would clear the name of an accused. But only by the death of the accuser. Cormen meant to kill me.

“She knows how to fight, my Queen,” Cormen continued. “It’s a fair match.”

The Seneschal stepped forward. “Trial by combat has been claimed. Shall we proceed, Your Majesty?” Her icy expression looked almost anticipatory. I doubted she was on Cormen’s side, not if she was a true servant of the queen, but no Fae would be troubled overmuch by the death of a half-breed.

There was no way out. I had to fight him.

“I need a weapon,” I managed through numb lips. “I had a sword.” I trusted Saskia’s blade more than any that the Fae might provide for me. I might not be able to defeat Cormen. He outweighed me and had the greater reach. Plus he was an excellent swordsman. But with Saskia’s blade perhaps I could hurt him before he killed me.

“No.” Guy’s voice came from behind me. “You don’t. I do.”

I turned then, saw him come to stand beside me. His face was bloodied, his clothes slashed. Whatever he had faced on the journey from the Door to the court, it had been different from my trial. He looked as if he’d fought an army to reach me. Blood crusted his hands, almost obscuring his tattoos. He stood awkwardly as though favoring one leg. My throat closed with fear. He was hurt. How could he fight?

“Guy—”

“You would stand champion?” the queen asked.

Guy nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Very well. This is allowed. Trial by combat. Someone bring Sir Guy his sword. Cormen, you may arm yourself as well. Blades only.” The queen turned, walked to her throne, settled into it. Then her head lifted. And her veils turned black.

It felt as though I had forgotten how to breathe. Pain stole my breath, warring with the terror freezing my mind. Worse than any thing the geas had ever done to me. One of the queen’s attendants took my arm and led me to stand beside the throne. All the better to see Guy die?

Cormen was Fae. Hundreds of years older than Guy. Guy was a warrior, but he was human. He’d barely slept in days. And he was hurt. How could he win?

Another of the faceless attendants glided from the crowd, carrying Guy’s sword. He took it from her with another bow, wincing slightly as he grasped the hilt.

A tear slid down my cheek, but I didn’t brush it away. I would witness what was to come. If Cormen won, I didn’t care what might happen to me; I would kill him.

Cormen looked relaxed as he waited for his own sword to be brought to him. When it came, he lifted the jeweled hilt and saluted the queen with a bow. I didn’t turn my head to see if she reacted.

“Trial by combat ends with death,” the Seneschal said, her voice ringing out over the expectant buzz of the crowd.

I could feel their anticipation. Nasty, like the bloodlust of the vampires at Halcyon. Waiting for blood to be spilled. Waiting for a spectacle. Did any of them care about the treason? Were any of them part of Cormen’s plot? I saw no nervous faces.

A buzz of anticipation drew my attention back to Guy and my father. There were to be no polite preliminaries, it seemed.

Only a battle to the end.

My hand stole to my pendant, gripped it as if I could strangle Cormen. I had no reminder of Guy. Nothing of his to send him my strength. Only my will to stand here and watch him fight.

And fight he did. I had never really seen him in action. I’d been too terrified at Halcyon to notice what was happening around me. Plus he’d been outnumbered quickly.

But here, in the Fae Court, one-on-one and fighting for his life—and mine perhaps—I watched him do what he was meant to do.

A Templar knight fighting to protect the things he believed in. His family. His city. His God.

Not me.

I knew I wasn’t the reason he’d stepped forward. No, he’d done it to stop Cormen. To do his duty. As he would have done no matter who stood in my place.

The key bit into my hand, and I felt blood run onto my palm. Good. If Guy was to bleed, then so would I.

He had no armor, just a plain white shirt and gray trousers— he must have kept them on under his robe. No Templar cross to mark what he was, but it was unmistakable.

His blade gleamed brilliant silver as he raised it to face Cormen. Cormen’s hilt shone with jewels and the blade was chased with gold. Far more impressive looking than the elegant sword Saskia had made for her brother. Could the work of a metalmage withstand that of the Fae smiths?

I held my breath as the two of them circled, feinting for position. It was Cormen who attacked first, moving forward with a slashing blow. Metal clashed, sang, parted as Guy parried and broke away.

He fought well, my knight. Brilliantly. Cormen was fast—Fae fast—and strong and he attacked relentlessly, but Guy held him off and counterattacked savagely. Both of them collected wounds.

I smiled savagely when the tip of Guy’s sword sliced across Cormen’s face, prayed it would leave a scar to make his pretty facade reveal the rot within. But my triumph was short-lived when Cormen scored a hit to Guy’s arm. And then another to his thigh.

Guy’s breath was coming fast, too fast, rasping loud enough to be heard over the clash of metal and the slap of feet against the marble. He was tiring against Cormen’s unrelenting assault.

He fell back, circled, trying to catch his breath. For one moment he was opposite me and his eyes met mine.

Guy
.

My hand went to my mouth and he nodded, just slightly. Then he smiled, not the wicked smile I’d learned to love in such a short time. No, this was something far more unsettling. The smile of a man at peace with the path he’d chosen.

And I suddenly realized that there didn’t have to be a victor in this match. That Guy could bring Cormen down by sacrificing himself.

In fact, as I watched him move more slowly, I had a horrifying sense of certainty that was what he meant to do. He moved differently now. Not attacking, rather drawing Cormen in, baiting him to attack. To get closer. To get careless.

I knew enough about fighting to see him doing it. Cormen apparently was too arrogant to see what I saw, to think that a human might outsmart him. He was falling for Guy’s ploy. His blows grew bolder, encouraged as Guy retreated. He cut Guy again on the same arm and Guy’s sword dipped to the floor, striking the marble with a screech of protesting metal before he raised it again, arm shaking.

Cormen laughed and pressed the attack, and as I watched, wanting to scream in protest, to throw myself between them to stop what I knew was about to happen, I saw Guy drop his guard, toss his sword to his left hand, and let Cormen’s sword bite deep into his side.

Those blue eyes went wide as the blade hit him, his face twisting in pain. But his sword didn’t falter. It arced around and struck, biting through my father’s shoulder and down at an angle to his heart.

Cormen’s face went strangely blank and his hand dropped from his sword, leaving it half embedded in Guy’s side.

His head swiveled toward the queen, lips parting, and then he fell, crumpling against the marble, a rapidly spreading pool of red running away from him as his eyes went sightless and blank.

Dead.

My father was dead.

Grief caught at me. Unexpected. Unwanted. But unavoidable. My father was dead.

I stared at his body, waiting to see if I were wrong. If he would rise and claim victory somehow. But he was still. So still I couldn’t take my eyes off him until another movement caught my attention.

Guy.

His hand clapped to the sword in his side, he staggered a step toward the throne.

“Guy!” I didn’t care about protocol anymore. I broke away from the attendants and ran. But I was too slow. Because I was only halfway there when his knees buckled and he too sank toward the floor.

Too late, Holly girl
.

“Guy, no!” I was crying now as I reached him, skidded to a halt, then dropped beside him, then realized with horror that I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t help him. “He needs a healer,” I screamed. The Fae around me were standing still, varying shocked and uncertain expressions on their faces.

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