The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) (17 page)

F
airy horses
—ones that hadn’t ever tasted human flesh—were as white as moonlight and just as graceful. As much as he didn’t like horses he could appreciate them, preferably from a distance. Unfortunately he had to ride one in to Annwyn. That the Hunter had insisted on cuffing him—like he’d never picked his way out of cuffs before—was disappointing.

Was there no trust? What had Darah said? Thinking about her hurt. Everything hurt.

He didn’t want to be going to Annwyn at all as he wasn’t sure he’d ever be coming back. That odd feeling vibrating in his ribs was true panic. Not the panic that came with every birthday, that was mild and tinged with guilt and a hunger he couldn’t quite explain.

This was honest to God panic that made him want to tug on the reins and ride as far and as fast as he could. Fairy horses knew how to move. Unfortunately they also obeyed the Hunter.

Chin up.
Don’t let them see your fear.
He could almost hear Marlis whispering in his ear. He’d never hear her again. He wished he hadn’t tipped the wine into the ground and that he’d finished the bottle. But being drunk around fairies on their home turf wasn’t smart. He had to be smart to get out of this.

He wanted to curse Darah for her loyalty to the King, but couldn’t. He only wished he could inspire that kind of loyalty in people. That they’d betray their lover before him. Then he caught the thought and squashed it. No, he didn’t want to be that person. The Mayor was like that. He’d rather people were with him because they saw value in what he was doing, not blind faith.

Which raised the question. What kind of King was Felan?

Felan wouldn’t be the first King he’d met, although the others had been mortal. Maybe this was for the best, as he could point out what exactly had happened in the mortal world while the fairies had squabbled over who would rule.

They stopped in front of a church. This was the third one. Apparently some of the churches were no longer in use and thus the doorway that should’ve existed between life and death had vanished. Cemeteries were where the veil was thinnest, man-made doorways to Annwyn. That shiver like cobweb on his skin he’d always felt when passing through the gate of a cemetery was him actually being aware of the veil even though he couldn’t pass through it the way a fairy could. Another reminder that he was the son of a Grey and technically banished from Annwyn.

Perhaps the Hunter wouldn’t be able to take him across?

Hope flared briefly and was then crushed as the Hunter led the horses across the veil it seemed that even his black darkling blood wasn’t enough to stop her from taking to Annwyn.

Damn it. He’d thought Greys couldn’t enter Annwyn.

No deals. No gambling here.
He reminded himself.

It would be nice to play just once in gaming halls of Annwyn. However he knew he’d lose and he had nothing he wanted to risk.

The air shimmered and a breeze traced over his skin. The dark cemetery vanished and was replaced by a field dotted with bright blades of grass. People were playing boules on the lawn. Their clothes were a rainbow of colors and more human in appearance than he’d expected. Jeans decorated in swirls and flowers and sparkling gems. Shirts with lace cuffs that were from a time long past. It was as if two worlds had collided and meshed. There were women still in gowns, and men in breeches. It was bizarre.

The people, fairies—as they were too pretty to be anything else—stopped to look as he and the Hunter rode by. It was impossible for him to conceal the silver cuffs. So he just looked straight ahead and pretended not to be dazzled. That took all of his skill.

The castle was something else and he almost gasped in awe.

It wasn’t stone like he was used to seeing. This one was made entirely of trees. Trees that had grown together to form the vast structure. He tilted his head to be able to see the tops of the branches. While many branches were bare, there were pale leaves on the tips as if spring was just arriving. From all accounts it had been arriving for over a year. Even he knew that time moved differently here than it did across the veil.

He swallowed. Had they noticed he was gone yet?

How long would he waste here?

Who would look after his casino, the Greys, Peri and Kaid?

And Darah? Was she here or there?

Just thinking about her was like rubbing himself with sandpaper and then bathing in vinegar. Falling for the spy was a stupid mistake. He’d thought he was old enough and smart enough to be immune, but in the end he was just as vulnerable as any man. That didn’t bode well for his time in Annwyn.

The Hunter slid off her horse. He followed suit, although not as gracefully because his hands were cuffed.

“Do I get to meet the King now?” He’d rather get this done and get home, or not. Waiting around for something to happen had never been his strong suit.

“You get to wait until he is ready to see you.” She led him into the castle which seemed more like a maze as after a few turns he was lost.

The castle was strangely silent, except for the soft rustling of leaves. They passed no one in the hallways. The place seemed to be deserted. She led him up a staircase made of branches, it kept going up and then above the branches that formed the roof. Were they going to stick him up here and forget about him? He knew how the tower of London worked. Lock’em up and throw away the key. What would happen on his birthday?

“I’m not that keen on heights…perhaps there’s something lower down?” He smiled.

The Hunter didn’t. “All the cells are up here, away from Court life, yet close enough that you are reminded of what you are missing.”

He had no idea what he was missing down there only what he was missing across the veil. If he got free would he be able to cross back on his own? And what? Keep running for the rest of his life? The Hunter would come after him with her dogs. The hounds never missed their quarry. He suspected this new Hunter wouldn’t be careless with her charges and let them escape.

The Hunter opened a door that looked as though it was a spider web made out of silver. For all he knew they did have giant spiders that spun silver here. The cold in his stomach grew. The idea that there were giant spiders here wasn’t comforting and he peered inside the cell cautiously.

While this wasn’t his first time in jail—and it probably wouldn’t be his last—it was generally never a pleasant experience. This cell appeared to be quite clean and he didn’t have to share with anyone—both of which were a plus.

The cell was empty except for a few brightly colored cushions and an equally bright blanket. There was no furniture except what the branches seem to have formed. As prisons went it was definitely the strangest one, and also the most comfortable. That didn’t mean he’d get a fair trial.

“What happens after this?”

“You wait. We collect information.”

“Didn’t Darah give you that? Isn’t that why you arrested me?” He had the pleasure of the Hunter almost looking surprised. Almost, she was far too fairy to ever let surprise fully form on her face.

Uptight, bunch of pokerfaced, pretty people.

“Yes Darah informed on you. You knew she was.” The look in the Hunter’s eyes would’ve made most men run for cover. He wasn’t most men.

“Of course I did. I haven’t managed to live for over a century in the mortal world without picking up a few things.” He smiled and hoped he looked more confident than he felt. Here he had to appear more fairy than he was. That meant putting on a convincing performance. Darah had shown him the caliber that was expected.

The Hunter looked as if she wanted to ask him something else, but then she changed her mind. “In.” She pointed to the cell.

Henry bit back the sigh. He wasn’t going to be compliant…but he didn’t want to be difficult either. “I need to be in the mortal world. There are people who depend on me.”

“I can’t help you. It is up to the King to determine your fate.”

“Is he really trying to overhaul Annwyn? Darah said he has new ideas and it trying new things.” If King Felan was progressive, for a fairy, then his odds would certainly improve.

She nodded and indicated again for him to step into the cell. As much as he didn’t want to, he forced himself over the threshold. Resisting wouldn’t help him, that was why he had gone with her instead of being dragged into Annwyn kicking and screaming—plus he had some pride—maybe the Hunter would put in a good word and mention how cooperative he was.

He had no idea what the fairies expected from him now he was here. He was an oddity even to them. A creature who shouldn’t exist.

The Hunter shut the cell door and locked it. He put his hands against the bars and she un-cuffed him. “You will be given food and water.”

There was a trap for the unwary. Were they hoping he would fall? “I can’t eat or drink here. I know the rules.”

The Hunter smiled. “Don’t dance either. You are trapped here until the King decides what to do with you. I wouldn’t run the risk of starving.”

“I’ll be trapped here if fairy food or wine passed my lips.” Or he accidentally fell into rhythm with the music. “Can’t I have mortal food?”

“You’re already trapped here. If the King decides you can return to the mortal world then it won’t matter if you have eaten or drunk the food as you already have fairy blood, you are already bound to the Court.” She shook her head. “Eat or don’t, your choice.” She walked away and left him in his treetop perch.

From here he could see quite a bit of Annwyn. All the way to the river on one side, but not beyond the river as that was shrouded in mist, the bank seemed to curve then it was lost in forest. Part of the forest seemed neat and ordered, other parts wilder, darker. A reminder that not everything in Annwyn was controlled, or friendly.

Nor was everything nice across the veil, but he knew where he’d rather be. It was almost enough to make him regret ordering the Mayor’s death.
Almost.
Detroit would be better off without MacGill. No doubt there would be some who thought it would be better off without him too.

D
arah ate breakfast alone
. For the first time in her life she didn’t know how to act. What was the appropriate mask to wear? She was sure that no matter what she did someone would see through it and realize that she was the reason Henry was missing.

But no one pointed at her and called her a traitor. Marlis was also missing and most assumed that they were together. They all knew that Marlis wasn’t coming back and the morning took on a subdued air of resignation.

Marlis’s death only compounded her guilt. Had she been alone, or had Henry been with her? No one deserved to be alone at the moment of their passing, not even a Grey. And Marlis had been loyal to Henry, which is more than what Darah had been.

Henry had known from the start what she was. However not even her reasoning made her feel better or eased the guilt. Over the last few weeks she’d come to believe in what Henry was doing, A few words from her and it was all going to unravel, then everyone, fairy and human would be worse off.

How long did she have before the truth was revealed?

She should leave before the Greys turned on her, but she couldn’t go, not yet.

With Henry gone there was one thing she had to do. Something that Henry would want done. So she waited.

Kaid gave her dark looks, as though he already knew that Henry had been arrested and taken to Annwyn before stalking off, and Weylin delivered careful sneers. She ignored them both. With each hour that passed the whispers about Henry grew louder. The sorrow became tension and people walked around her without making eye contact.

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from shouting her defense. She’d made a deal with the King. That wasn’t something she could back out of. Maybe she should’ve been with him when the Hunter came. But would that have changed anything?

At midday there was a commotion in the lobby and the mother walked in carrying her daughter. “I need to see Henry.”

It took a moment for Darah to realize she was the only fairy that the woman could see. The Greys didn’t waste magic to make themselves visible. Neither did Weylin.

She was it, and this is what she’d been waiting for. “He isn’t here.”

“He promised he’d help.”

“I want to kiss you, Mommy.” Peri touched her mother’s face. Her words were pleading. “I’m so hungry.”

A little Grey sat with the child and made soft cooing sounds that the mother didn’t hear and the child was too upset to take notice of. The Grey looked at Darah, pleading. There was no carefully neutral expression only outright concern tinged with panic.

“She’s been like this since she woke up. She can’t walk. She’s too weak. What kind of mother doesn’t kiss her child?” The woman started crying.

“One who wants to live.” Darah walked over. “Let me take her. I know what needs to be done.”

Henry had wanted to help the girl and since it was because of her he wasn’t here, she was going to make sure that the darkling girl survived. It was the least she could do. All she could do while hoping Felan saw the good in Henry, not just deaths he’d caused.

The mother hugged Peri closer. “I’ll go with you.”

Darah thought about her reaction to Henry killing the cop with a kiss. There were some things a mother didn’t need to see her child do. Darah wished she could forget what Henry had looked like in those few seconds. She didn’t have a soul and it had still been terrifying.

“She can’t hurt me. I will bring her back and she will be fine for another year. Yes?” Darah held out her arms. She was aware that the other Greys were watching her.

“I want to kiss my Mommy.” Peri arched up she tried to grab her mother’s face. The child didn’t know that if she kissed her Mommy that Mommy would die. Net yet anyway. In another year, maybe two, she’d know and understand. That was a problem for another day. Darah pulled Peri away and the mother released her child.

“You don’t want to hurt your Mommy. I know what you need.”

Peri looked at Darah, her pale green eyes as piercing as any fairies. She looked confused for a moment. How had Henry survived as child, not knowing what he was only what he needed once a year? How close had he come to death? Peri leaned closer as if to kiss her, acting on instinct not thought.