City of Shadows (17 page)

“We have eclectic tastes.” He smiled back.

He
had a quiet composure about him. The other fae seemed to exude restrained violence. Like wild animals who appeared tame, but were in fact waiting for the right time to attack. Scaw didn't look at me like he wanted to stick a dagger in my back. He had an easy smile and patient eyes. He looked to be early thirties in human years, but his quiet contemplation had me wondering if he was much, much older.

“What do you know about Arachne?” I asked softly.

“There isn't much I don't know about Faerie and her spirits.”

Though he has the same knack for avoiding direct answers.

He leaned out and cast Samuel a cursory glance around me, as though checking for permission. My annoyance bristled but I kept quiet. Samuel must have nodded, because Scaw pulled out the chair beside him and beckoned me to sit. I did, and I caught a glimpse of Samuel out of the corner of my eye. He'd taken up residence in a raggedy armchair, head back, eyes closed, his commanding fae self slumped in the cushions like a cat sprawled in the sun.

“Tell me about the Three and Arachne,” I said, turning my back on Samuel.

“None of the Three had absolute control,” Scaw replied, reaching forward to rummage through the spread of books until he found a tattered, leather-bound sketchbook. “Or at least they didn't until two were exiled here during the purge.” He flipped through the pages, found what he was looking for, and held it out. “There's no way of knowing what's happening in Faerie, but we can assume the harpy—also known as Marra-Rigan, the Morrigan, and Macha, translated as the “nightmare queen,” “phantom queen,” and versions thereof—rules without her counterparts to stop her.”

I
took the sketchbook and immediately recognized a charcoal sketch as a close copy of the battle scene tapestry hanging from the walls in Under.

“The balance of the Three once controlled every aspect of Faerie, but it was a balance based on war. The spirits forever fought. None could defeat the other, though they continually sought ever more subversive ways to do so.”

I lost my thoughts in the sweep of gray and black across the page. The swirl of dark clouds and the deep strokes gouging out troughs of the fallen—the dead. “Did you draw this?”

“Me?” he said, and chuckled. “No. The artist died of her wounds shortly after capturing that image. The sketchbook was brought here by her sister.” A delicate inflection in his tone drew my eye back to him. He didn't elaborate and looked back at me with that same measured calm.

“Cu Sith and Arachne, they were deliberately trapped here?”

He nodded. “Like each of the Three, Arachne is formidable. Immortal. Infinite, but so is the harpy. The harpy controlled the Hunt, the Hunt and elders controlled the purge. The purge was … chaotic.”

I studied the sketch again and wet my lips, considering how best to approach my questions. A quick glance at Samuel, and the slight rise and fall of his chest suggested he was asleep. “Cu Sith resides in Sovereign. And the harpy, or Morrigan—”

“We prefer to call her simply the harpy. Giving her a name, gives her power.” He cast his gaze high and blinked rapidly. “She's terribly insane.”

I swallowed. “The harpy is in Faerie. Arachne possessed the queen, who Reign and I killed. When she died, Arachne possessed me. Not an echo, or memories, but the actual spirit now lives in me?”

“
Absolutely. Immortality tends to make the spirits exceptionally difficult to kill.” He smiled a sympathetic smile. “Of course, one of the Three has never inhabited a construct before, but then there's never been a construct quite like you.”

I wasn't sure what I'd expected to feel on hearing my fears finally confirmed, but it certainly didn't settle the concerns rattling around my head. I set the book down, pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my knees. So there it was, confirmed without any doubt. I was still me, for now. I had fae urges, fae needs—to touch, to absorb life—but I was still Alina. But for how long?

A sudden thought occurred to me. “Can I get rid of her?”

“Yes.” My heart stuttered, but before I could ask how, Scaw added, “If you die, she'll possess another fae.”

“So, the only way out of this is for me to die?”

He nodded solemnly. “Death of the host releases the spirit.” In other words, there was no escaping Arachne. I had better learn to live with her, like Reign lived with the hound.

“What can I do with Arachne in me, what does it mean?” I asked.

“What do you think it means?”

That I'm afraid.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. “Reign controls the hound—mostly. I can control Arachne.”

“And that's what we're all waiting for, Alina. At least those of us who suspect you're more than you appear to be.”

A crocked smile slipped onto my lips. “The American Girl.”

“The perfect subterfuge.”

Nyx
sauntered into the room, popsicle in hand. She perched herself on the edge of the table and cocked her head at the sight of the old sketchbook. Her gaze flicked to Scaw. An unspoken conversation seemed to pass between them, something I clearly wasn't invited to be a part of. Whatever its content, the result seemed to be Scaw breaking eye contact with a sigh and Nyx plastering an overt grin on her face.

“History lesson over with?” she asked us both.

Scaw tucked the sketchbook beneath the piles of paperbacks. “It's late. I'm on shift tomorrow. Try and get some sleep, Alina. I'm happy to answer more questions then.”

For a moment it sounded as though I was being dismissed, but Scaw was the one who stood and headed for the door.

I watched the Lorekeeper leave, numb inside while fears and unknowns drifted through my mind.

“You did a good thing today,” Nyx said. She pushed off the table, tossed her Popsicle wrapper in the trash and then took up Scaw's seat. She appraised me with a look caught somewhere between apprehension and admiration. “Saving Samuel.” She tipped her head at the sleeping fae warrior.

“I drained its life,” I said flatly. I could still feel the hunger for more. Always more. Was this how Reign felt? “I think I might be capable of much more.”

She nodded, almost too easily. “I'm sure Kael suspected as much when you arrived.”

“If I stop being me, if I turn into a rampaging monster—”

She knew where this was going and smiled. “You won't have to worry about that. There'll be a line a mile long to stick a blade in you, sweetheart. All but him.”
She
flicked her thin fingers at Samuel. “You just had to go and save his arse, didn't you?”

My lips twitched. “He does have a nice ass.”

Laughter burst from Nyx. I glanced at Samuel, but he didn't stir.

“He does, for a male.” Nyx looked fondly at the warrior. “I've never seen him that weak. We had to get a donor in to revive him.”

“A donor from the clinic?”

Her smile faded. “No.” Her tone said she wasn't about to explain. They'd taken someone, probably unwillingly. Broken their own rules to save one of their own. That was likely why Kael had been stalling in his war room.

Looking at Samuel now, asleep in the chair, and how I'd seen him, near death in the tunnels, an odd flutter of concern skipped my heart a beat. I was glad they were able to save him, but my old friend guilt returned when I considered the price.

“What happened to the person he
used
?” I asked, keeping the judgment out of my voice.

“She's fine. She'll be taken care of.”

Is that what happened to Becky
, I wondered. Was she used up and discarded? “Does that sort of thing happen often? You're fae. Accidents happen. After today, I get it.” I might have caused one such accident in the subway had the lytch not distracted me.

“Occasionally.” Her eyes turned cold.

“And Kael?” I asked as delicately as I dared.

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

My heart thudded a little faster. “What do you mean?”

“
I don't know what his feeding habits are. Or any of his habits, if I'm honest. I've worked with him since we arrived in London but he's the same today as he was then. Absolutely professional and completely detached. Maybe you should ask Samuel. He spends more time with Kael than any of us.”

“But Kael would go to the clinics like the rest of you—us? He wouldn't break the laws?”

She leaned forward, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Kael does whatever the fuck Kael wants to do to get the job done. We don't question him. And if you poke that hornets' nest, you'll find what wakes will rip your arm off,” she smiled, like she'd just told me how wonderful her day was. Then she pulled the old sketchbook from beneath the pile of books, jumped from her seat and strode for the door. “Friendly warning, you understand.” She saluted with the sketchbook. “I like you, Alina. I'd like for Kael not to kill you.”

Kael killing me wasn't the problem. Gathering from the looks he'd given me, he was more likely to “test” me over and over, just to see how far I could be pushed before summoning Arachne.

Alone with sleeping Samuel. I lingered awhile, watching his chest rise and fall. He'd tell me more about Kael if I asked. Samuel had denied knowing Becky, but he might not know her name. If I could get a picture, the one from Andrews's mantelpiece, and show it to Samuel, he might recognize her. Someone must have seen her or know something. She couldn't just vanish.

I'd go to Under, follow Kael's orders, and with Samuel's help, discover more about the general's secrets.

The house creaked and somewhere above the floorboards shifted. It was just me and Samuel, but you were never far from one of the fae. They made a tight
family
unit. Devoted. Loyal. I had no idea what that felt like, to be a part of something. Or did I? I was alone, that was true, but I was also connected to the fae on a level I'd yet to fully understand. Arachne. What did that mean? Was I good or bad? Reign was possessed by the hound. What did his hound make him? He'd told me he wasn't good. I'd never really known whose side he was on. Perhaps that would be my fate? Forever connected, but forever alone. I wasn't sure I could survive this on my own.

Somewhere
inside, one more flicker of hope died, along with another part of the American Girl.

Chapter Fourteen

As soon as I set foot back inside Under's tunnels for the general's
request
, it was clear something big and nasty had ripped its way through every room, every tunnel, and gone to great lengths to destroy anything it found. It couldn't be the lytch, at least not that I knew, those things were shadows. A shadow didn't rake four distinct claws through one of the three tapestries hanging in the lounge.

I stood in front of those tapestries, a sense of hollow emptiness inside at the sight of the shredded scenes. Reign had told me the queen had woven them before she'd become a half-spider lunatic. The fact the fae had brought the tapestries from Faerie meant they were important. Whatever had done this had no regard for fae history, or a race of people who were slowly, bit by bit, year by year, losing their identity. Something else was loose below London's streets.

“Kael's gonna be pissed,” I mumbled.

“
Alina.” Shay stood in the doorway, an overflowing box cradled in her arms. Her silvery eyes widened at the sight of me. “Oh my.”

I'd forgotten the sight of my leathers might alarm her. “Oh, this. I'm not going to arrest you. I'm undercover. Sort of.”
I think
.

I smiled, despite the fear in her eyes, and the wrenching in my gut when I remembered the last time I'd seen her, writhing beneath Reign's touch. My fake smiles seemed to come easier now.

“You appear … much changed.” She drifted farther into the room, her white lace and silk dress as glamorous as a wedding gown. She probably considered it casual. She couldn't have looked causal in sweats. Her hair fell in a waterfall of curves down her back. She'd even braided it in some elaborate pattern. She always looked like she could have stepped out of one of the tapestries. Modern London, Starbucks lattes, Converse pumps, and cell phones were not meant for the likes of Shay.

“What happened here?” I asked, willing the unwanted memory of her and Reign deep, deep down where it couldn't reach me.

She set the box down on a table and started to rifle through various possessions. “You don't know?”

“No, I've been … distracted.” I worked my way around the broken bits of furniture and stopped beside her. She picked up a London Bridge snow globe—the type of tacky tourist item you could buy for eight bucks—and turned it over. The snow tumbled. Tears glistened in her eyes.

“Shay? What is it?”

“Reign.”

The hollowness I'd been feeling intensified. “What about Reign?”

She
blinked, tossed the snow globe into her box of trinkets, and wiped a tear off her cheek. “I'd hoped it would get better. I wanted him to control it. I thought, with you, he had a chance.”

I leaned closer, so she had no choice but to look at me. Tears wet her smooth cheeks and brightened her beautiful eyes. She looked deep into her box.

“Shay, did Reign do this?”

Her bottom lip quivered.

What if Kael was right?
Could Reign be behind the lytch's escape?

“You were supposed to help him.” She resumed searching through the junk, her movements sharp. “You said you were going to help him.”

I grabbed her wrist and pulled her around to look at me, ignoring the tingles skipping up my arm. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

She yanked her arm free. “I don't know!” The tears fell freely now. “It doesn't need a reason. Sometimes it just comes. He's been out of sorts since the Dome, since he's been trapped down here with me. It's not enough.
I
was never enough. Faerie was never enough for him.” She shoved her box away and turned to look at the tapestries. “He needs help, Alina. I'm afraid for him.” She swiped at her tears, but more came. “We can't live like this. The fae. Us. Curfews and clinics, laws and rules. It's not right. It's not our way. Something is going to break, we're going to break.” Her hand trembled as she wiped again at her face. “I don't think London can survive us. I really don't. There are things in these tunnels, bad things, wicked things. We're predators. And the things in these tunnels, something has them all stirred up, and I'm afraid. So afraid, Alina.”