“What happened?” Tràth asked.
“That night Shug’s old lady came home from work sick. Caught us.” He looked away and chuckled. “If it hadn’t been so horrible, I guess I would think it was funny. You should have seen the look on her face. Then she flew at Shug, whacking him with her handbag, calling him all kinds of names. Faggot. Queer. Pervert. Whatever. I grabbed my stuff and got out of there.” Douglas shrugged, looking self-conscious, and Tràth thought about Aaron walking in on them. The tale put the innocent moment in a new light. “So I walked home. Like I said, I didn’t live far. By the time I got home twenty minutes later, Shug’s mum had called my dad. He was all red in the face, looking like you could fry an egg on him.”
“What did he do?”
“Before he got a chance to let loose, I told him Shug’s mum was batty and a drunk, both of which were true. I told him me and Shug were hanging out on the X-Box, and she’d come in screaming like a crazy woman ‘cause Shug had his shirt off. I guess my old man knew her well enough to buy my story, so he just said I shouldn’t go over there anymore. He looked at me sideways, though. I’m not sure he believed me.”
“What happened to Shug?” Tràth asked gently.
“I dunno. I tried ringing him, but he’d never pick up or return the call. He left school. I heard he got an apprenticeship with a local electrician. He stopped calling Jess, and she was heartbroken. She asked me why, but I couldn’t tell her the truth, even though it was my fault. I kept hooking up with Mel for a while. Maybe I wanted to prove I wasn’t queer. Then one day, she tells me she’s going to university and she needs to
concentrate on her schoolwork
, so we couldn’t see each other anymore.”
“You must have been hurt,” Tràth said.
“Not really. I’d been trying too hard. Clinging. Pushing her for sex, then going all cold when we did do anything. I wanted to forget her and Jess, but especially Shug. Every time I thought about her, a question about myself popped into my head. So after Mel, I started chasing other girls, as many as I could, even though I never got anywhere with them. I was…awkward. I left school, and before long, I met Cridhe and he awakened my druidic powers. Those few weeks with Shug, well, I buried the memory deep, pretending nothing happened. I can’t really say why I couldn’t admit it, even to myself.” He looked at Tràth. “When I said I wasn’t queer, well…”
Tràth didn’t understand the details. Too much was wrapped in puzzling nuances of human culture. Even without the bond, he had a better understanding of the shame Douglas felt about his sexuality.
“Did you love Shug?” Tràth told himself he wasn’t jealous, but an unfamiliar twinge pulled at him.
Douglas looked deep into Tràth’s eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone but you.”
The walls around Tràth’s heart threatened to crumble, but he needed to keep them intact a little longer. He had more to say. “Douglas, I’m going to become Princess Imena’s mate. I’ve signed the agreement stating our terms and intent.”
Douglas looked stricken. “Oh,” he said, flushing a deep shade of red. “I…yeah,” he stammered. “Aaron told us she’d asked you. I thought… Congratulations.” He turned, his eyes seeking out the Source Stone in the distance. He stood and began searching through crates, adjusting things as though deciding what to do. He looked lost.
“I made a promise. I cannot break my word,” Tràth said.
“Of course not,” Douglas whispered, still pretending to arrange his things. “I wouldn’t ask you to.” He stopped and pressed his eyes tightly closed. His tone soft, he said, “That’s another lie. I
do
want you to break your word. Live with me. Be
my
mate. Open our bond so I can feel your mind the way I used to.” He leaned on a tall crate, clutching the wooden sides, his face contorted with pain. “I miss you so much.”
Tràth stood and wove between the crates to stand beside Douglas. Gently, he pulled his bonded druid into an embrace. After a moment, he whispered, “I need to tell
you
a story.” When Douglas glanced up, Tràth asked, “You’ve met Joy?”
“Yes,” he said.
Tràth took Douglas’ hand. “In Zalia, there are dozens, maybe hundreds of azuri like her, outcasts who have endured the same abuse. Until recently, when one of our kind was discovered, the first thing the Zalian authorities would do is cut their throat, removing the vocal folds to prevent them from speaking incantations. The sign language they developed was tolerated, but if an azuri taught another how to touch the flows, their fingers were removed. If they were caught learning incantations, they were blinded so they wouldn’t see the signs. They weren’t allowed to venture out at night, forced to scavenge or beg during the day. No one will hire them to do honest work, so many steal to survive. If they’re discovered, they are executed. Kind people shun them while unkind ones torment them.”
Douglas squeezed Tràth’s hand. “Aaron never explained her scars. How terrible.”
“Things are changing in Zalia. Already they’ve agreed to repeal laws because I’ve promised to become Imena’s mate. Because of my sworn loyalty to Zalia, azuri are no longer under restricted movement. Teaching and learning are no longer crimes. There’s so much more to do. I’m going to be the first Zalian nobleman to take these people out of the slums and give them work. I will bring mentors from Caledonia to teach the Zalian azuri how to use their talents.”
“I understand,” Douglas said. “This is something you need to do.”
“Imena has offered you legal status in Zalia and is granting me my own house. We couldn’t make our relationship public, but in private we could live as we liked. We won’t be mates, but we can be together.” He paused. “It doesn’t seem worthy to ask you to remain in the shadows.”
“I’m a Druid Lord. I’m never in the shadows,” Douglas said with a chuckle. “I’m proud of you. I can see what this role means to you. I could never offer you something as fulfilling here in the Druid Hall. This feels right. So, when do you leave?”
When Aaron had ordered him to speak with Douglas, this was the last outcome Tràth could have predicted. “An hour before dawn, at the latest. I need to meet with the Keepers, some of the Caledonian elders, then I have a dozen letters of instruction to dispatch.” Tràth looked around the room. “How long before you’re ready?”
“I’d leave now, if you wanted me to,” Douglas said, reaching up to stroke Tràth’s cheek. “Tell me you forgive me for everything I put you through.”
Tràth tilted his head toward Douglas’ hand, enjoying the man’s touch. He reached inward, feeling the mountain of rubble which covered the connection between them. At first, the obstacle wouldn’t budge, but when Tràth spoke silent words of forgiveness, it melted like snow in a hot summer sun. Warmth rushed in, flowing between them. “I do,” Tràth said. Douglas kissed him fiercely, his stubble scraping Tràth’s skin. Tràth felt none of the reticence previously separating them. The passionate embrace left them breathless and hungry for one another. After a few moments, Tràth spoke with some regret. “I have to go. The Keepers are expecting me. I wish I could stay.”
Douglas grinned. “Knowing you want to is enough for the moment.” He kissed Tràth again, running his mouth down the faerie’s neck and biting him playfully. “You’d better go,” he whispered. “The longer you stay, the harder it will be to leave.”
“
Faith
,” Tràth swore, stepping away reluctantly. “Be ready. I’ll return before dawn.”
∞
Griogair held his composure as he sat in front of Queen Konstanze. He’d known something was wrong when the messenger recommended he consider why Konstanze asked to meet with him. He’d understood at once. The hint was that Konstanze wanted to see
him
and not Eilidh. That told him she’d been made aware of Eilidh’s condition. An even bigger shock hit when she revealed how she’d come upon the information.
Her words punched him in the gut. Of course, he’d never trusted Koen, but to hear he’d actually tried to sell Eilidh out infuriated Griogair. And the lies he’d spun!
“You find this easy to believe, it seems,” Konstanze said, her eyebrow arching with amusement.
“I can’t deny my reaction is more one of disappointment than surprise. What does intrigue me is your part in this. Why tell me?”
Konstanze studied Griogair. “If you are as ruthless as Koen claimed, would it not be wiser to ensure you became an ally rather than an enemy?”
“And if I’m not?” That Koen claimed Griogair had a hand in Munro’s death angered Griogair only slightly less than the implication he planned to harm Maiya.
“Then Prince Koen is a ridiculous, scheming toad, and I should be grateful you have the duty of dealing with him, rather than it being my responsibility.” She paused. “In truth, I believe the latter to be the case. Nothing I’ve observed about you indicates you possess such unrestrained ambition.”
He detected something in her voice. Disappointment? She herself was an ambitious queen, a powerful one. Why would she regret that Griogair wasn’t a kindred soul? Wouldn’t he be a threat to her if he did have designs on the throne to the extent of reaching his influence to Zalia? “My ambitions are restricted to the welfare of Caledonia,” he said.
“And her queen,” Konstanze said. “I hope Prince Koen’s description of your mate’s state was exaggerated, like so many of his claims.”
Does she?
Griogair wondered. Even though Konstanze exposed Koen’s plot rather than acting on it, he didn’t trust her enough to reveal the truth of Eilidh’s condition. “It’s to be expected the death of Quinton Munro would cause her great distress. Bonding magic mystifies even the Keepers, but one thing we do understand is the link between souls is not meant to be severed.”
Konstanze nodded. “What will you do with Koen?” she asked.
Griogair frowned. Why did she care? Was she testing how ruthless Griogair would be? “That decision will fall to Eilidh,” he said carefully. “She will be pleased at your good faith.”
“And yours, I expect.” Konstanze stood, indicating the meeting had come to an end. “Prince Griogair,” she began. “Should the day come when you
are
burdened with the Caledonian throne, I hope you will remember you can rely on the friendship of Ashkyne.”
Following her lead, he stood and prepared to go. “Of course, Your Majesty,” he said. Something in her subtle gestures made him wonder if she was offering more than friendship. Was he reading too much into a minute movement? With a word of thanks and a bow, he left the Ashkyne Hall and returned to the Caledonian Hall.
Due to grief and worry, he wasn’t clear-headed enough to fully comprehend what had taken place. Konstanze was a master of political machinations who made him look like an absolute novice. She wanted something, but clearly she was playing a long game. Pondering as he walked toward his study, he changed direction and headed to Eilidh’s office instead. When he encountered a steward on the way, Griogair signalled to him. “Send the Watcher wen-lei to the queen’s study at once, then find Elder Oron and ask him to join us.”
The steward bowed and rushed to follow the prince’s orders. Griogair sat where Eilidh so often worked, feeling out of place and praying he’d never have the opportunity to grow accustomed to the position. Drawing some official papers out of a nearby cabinet, he filled one of the pages, his heart heavy.
Oron arrived first. He entered and bowed. “I’m afraid I have no news to report yet, Your Highness. I’ve only just begun my work with Maiya.”
Griogair signed his name, then handed the page to the joint-conclave leader. The elder accepted it, his eyes scanning the script. “Treason?” he muttered. “I wish I was surprised. You have evidence?”
“The testimony of Queen Konstanze of Ashkyne. Koen tried to curry favour with her by telling her of Eilidh’s condition and Caledonia’s weakened state.”
Oron tilted his head. “As Eilidh’s trustee, you are acting within your rights, of course. I wonder if anyone might suspect you were getting rid of a rival.”
“No one who’s ever met Koen would believe that,” Griogair said with a snort.
“You intend to execute him?”
“No,” Griogair said. “Only to keep him somewhere he can’t do any harm.”
Oron nodded and added his mark on the bottom of the page next to Griogair’s.
The wen-lei arrived and saluted the prince. “How may I serve?” he asked. Griogair handed him the arrest warrant, impressed the Watcher showed no reaction when he read the name inscribed on it.
“Take him to Eirlioc Falls with enough guards to isolate him from the flows of magic. He may move freely in the castle, but he is to be guarded at all times and receive no visitors nor send any communication. If he gives you any trouble or tries to leave the grounds, restrict him to his suite.”
The wen-lei saluted. “As you command,” he said and folded the page before placing it in an inside pocket. He saluted again and left without delay.
“You will be forced to make a ruling eventually,” Oron warned. “Treason is not to be considered lightly.”
“I plan to leave him to Eilidh to deal with when she is well. As long as she lives, he is under the protection of her bloodline. Should she die, his fate will be in Maiya’s hands.”
“If the queen does recover enough to confront his treachery,” Oron said, “I suspect Koen will regret his actions more than if you simply commanded his death.”
∞
Barely an hour before sunset, Aaron held one of Joy’s hands. Jago held the other as they approached the portal, Cen trailing behind. Earlier that evening, Aaron had conveyed Griogair’s request for Jago’s help reaching Maiya. Lisle asked Aaron and Joy to look after the boy while she discussed the situation with the prince. The kid was a handful, but Joy seemed to enjoy his exuberance and perpetual questioning.
Aaron was lost in his own thoughts. At least his meeting with Griogair had gone better than his discussion with Tràth. He still felt like a right tosser for ordering the prince around and hoped things would turn out all right with Douglas. In that case, Tràth might forgive Aaron’s high-handedness.
When they arrived at the immense courtyard, they stood back and watched as several of the Mistwatchers used their air flows to guide a cart full of Douglas’ belongings through the glow of the portal. With an almost imperceptible buzz, they vanished on the other side.