Poison (28 page)

Ivan ignored the order. "Careful, little cat. As to it not being a job … it is, at least to her. It's her self-appointed task, a very personal vendetta. She's as ruthless, remorseless, and cold as any mermaid, but works for high reward. Sounds close enough to a merc to me, in the end. What she's doing … I wish I had realized it sooner, scorch her … Anyway, in merc parlance, what she's doing is something we call a 'friendly face'."

"That sounds entirely too apt already," Noire said with a sigh.

"Yes," Ivan said grimly, then lifted a hand to indicate silence. Noire shifted to hug the wall, giving himself a clear view of anything that might come around the corner—as clear a view as he could expect in the dark, anyway. He wished he could shift, but did not dare expend the energy until necessary. There was no telling what was going to happen when they reached the Sanctuary.

After several tense minutes, Ivan relaxed and with another gesture of his hand, motioned them forward again. "Just how long are these stairs, anyway?" he groused.

"I'm sure we have a ways to go yet," Noire replied. “The cellars extend three stories below the palace proper, I think, though I don't remember well." Ivan sighed. "So what was that about friendly faces?" Noire asked, though he was not really certain he wanted to know.

"Friendly face is the merc name for a very particular kind of job," Ivan said grimly. "It pays very, very well, but no reputable merc group will take such a job because it involves a lot of underhanded methods and serious bloodwork."

Noire wasn't entirely certain what 'bloodwork' meant, but he had a pretty good idea. "What's the job?"

"Infiltration and assassination," Ivan replied. "It involves getting inside a tight-knit group to get to the hard-to-reach heads of the group and murder them. You make friends, make better friends, reach the inner circle, and then start killing from the highest ranking down to the lowest. It's expected that a few of the minor members will get away—you pick them off later, easy as dousing a cook fire."

"That's horrible," Noire said.

Ivan grunted in agreement. "My team never did them. We didn't do kidnappings either. We were mostly thieving, threatening, finding, that kind of thing."

Noire started to comment, but was stopped short by a sudden flood of light. They'd finally reached the main level of the palace. Well, nearly. They were on the servant level, but that was better than dark, winding stairs. He tensed as they left behind the dark, damp stone walls of the palace depths, leaving a trail of water on the faded and worn tile floor. It was so quiet that the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He just could not get used to such stark silence in a place that was normally bursting with noise.

"So where do we go to get out of here?" Ivan asked in an undertone.

"This way," Noire said and turned down a narrow hallway. The servant level was even more of a maze than the main palace, a tangled web of halls and staircases that made it easier to get around the palace and come and go discreetly.

Halfway down the hall, he turned down another one, then led Ivan up a very narrow set of stairs that spilled into a small sitting area where those waiting for their time in court could admire the royal gardens down below. It was also closest to the Sanctuary without coming out right in front of it where someone might see them. Noire drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to ignore the way he could feel his hands trembling. The ceremony was only minutes away.

Were they too late? What was going to happen when they broke into the Sanctuary?

"Stop standing around looking like a spooked cat and let's go," Ivan said.

Noire made a face at him and crept from the sitting nook, fighting an urge to shift. He always felt safer, stronger, as a panther, but it was wiser to stay in a shape that could speak.

Gael. He'd tried his hardest not to think too long about Gael, knowing his fear would get the better of him. But only steps away from the Sanctuary, Gael was suddenly all he could think about it. Was he okay? Did he think Noire was dead? Did he know about Etain yet?

What of Ailill? The other Beasts?

As they reached the door to the Sanctuary, Noire could hear voices—shouting, crying. He heard Gael, and fear and relief rushed through him. Noire reached for the door, surprised when the handle gave easily beneath his hand.

He gingerly pushed the door open about a finger's width, and Freddie's strident voice poured out, filled with anger. "Our children don't deserve to suffer because of the problems between the three of us."

"Enough!" Etain said. "You belong with me, and I will make you see that once and for all."

Gael's voice replied, "No, Etain, you won't. I loved you once, first as a lover and then as a sister. But I won't—can't—forgive your betrayals. I do not love you, and I do not think I ever will again. This ends now, once and for all. You won't stop us this time. It's clear you desperately need power and there is no way for you to get it."

Noire shuddered at the coldness to Etain's voice when she replied, "I have all the power I need." What did she mean?

But it was clear that no one had noticed the door, and so he dared to open it a bit further. Ivan was so close Noire could feel his breaths on the back of his neck. He stuck his head through the door and stared in horror at the scene:  Gael and Freddie were facing off with Etain, who stood beneath the Sacred Oak. She wore the crown jewels, but something about them, about her wearing them, made Noire uneasy. He could feel the power on her, dreaded what she intended.

She shifted, suddenly seeming to turn more threatening, to loom where before she had merely stood. "You will be mine, or you will die," Etain said, voice thrumming with power. "Choose."

Noire decided he'd had enough. The time for hiding, for stealth, was past. She wasn't going to hurt or kill anyone else. One ravaged country was more than enough. Stepping into the room, he countered her pronouncement with, "I think that it is time for you to die, Majesty."

Gael whipped around, fair skin draining of color. "N-Noire? Noire!" He bolted across the Sanctuary and threw himself at Noire.

There was so much momentum behind it that Noire barely kept them upright, taken aback as he held his trembling lover. "Gael?"

"I thought you were dead," Gael said, the words barely audible with his head buried into the hollow of Noire' shoulder. "Etain said—and it didn't occur to me she would lie—" He looked up, cheeks wet with tears, and kissed Noire hard. "I can't believe you're alive."

Noire started to speak, but the sound of Etain's chilling laughter stopped him. At the base of the Sacred Oak, the jewels she wore had begun to faintly glow. "Of course he's still alive. He always dies at the end."

"That isn't true," Gael said. "My nightmares—"

"Are just that—nightmares. They hold no truths, save to remind you that it is your fault he always dies. That if you just left him, abandoned him, all would be well. But you never listen!"

Power poured off of her, radiating out, and Noire braced for the blow—and it never came, because he felt Gael take it, cancel it. "Enough, Etain! It does not have to be this way! You are the reason everyone dies, you and you alone. Have all these centuries of failure taught you nothing?"

"I will succeed," Etain snarled, throwing out more power when Freddie and Ivan both tried to move in. "Stay where you are!"

Freddie swore. "Just stop, Etain. It's over. Already this ceremony is different from all the rest. Those jewels will not help you, no matter what power they contain."

"They contain enough," Etain said coldly. "If nothing else, I can still set the tragedy to begin again. Can't I,
kitten?
"

"What are you talking about?" Gael demanded, moving to stand protectively in front of Noire. "Leave him alone."

Etain laughed, the sound slicing through Noire like broken glass slicing through his skin. "Leave him alone? I think not. Why do you think I always leave him alive though I long to wipe his soul from existence forever? It is he who always starts the Tragedy anew. He who controls it."

Noire froze, fingers digging in where he'd been holding on to Gael.  He swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"Yes," Gael said slowly, pulling Noire into his arms. Noire trembled and held fast, but even Gael's touch did not soothe him. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I see the kitten has not quite remembered that yet," Etain said, smirking as sunlight began to pour down on them in earnest and the Sacred Oak began to bloom into life. The light caught her wings, made them shine and cast iridescent rainbow light across the lush grass of the Sanctuary. She held her arms out, and the door closed, sealed, trapping them all inside.

"Enough with your games!" Freddie snarled. "Kill us if you must, but stop playing games! You've played with people enough, Etain. Stop it!"

Etain gestured, and Freddie jerked as though struck, falling to her knees with a soft, pained cry and clapping her hands to her face as his nose began to drip blood. "I will do what I want. The power of nine is mine and the ceremony is upon us. Chaos may have entered this room on the wings of Zhar Ptitsa, but the jewels ensure it will go in my favor. You
will
return to me, brother, sister, lovers. I am tired of your defiance, your selfishness. We are the Triad, and ever shall we be. Defy me again and the Tragedy will only continue—unless you have the strength to destroy the soul that keeps the Tragedy replaying. Destroy him and chaos enters the game."

Noire shivered at her the look she cast him, swirling eyes glowing first green, then violet, then back to green. "Me?" he asked, voice shaking. "I'm—" Her eyes flashed violet again, and Noire screamed and pressed hands to his head as images suddenly flooded his mind.

Dead. They were all dead. Tears fell down Noire's cheeks as the realization sank in. There was so much blood. He bit back a sob, a need to scream, when he found Gael tangled together with the Faerie Queen and Pegasus.

How had it happened? Gods were gods; they couldn't die—not like this. He held Gael tightly and sobbed against his chest, desperate to feel a heartbeat that was no longer there.

A soft noise, someone struggling to say his name, brought Noire's head. He stared in surprise at the Faerie Queen—then realized she was alive. Thank the gods, she was alive! Everything would be all right! Reluctantly setting Gael down, Noire went to the Faerie Queen and helped her to sit up. "My Goddess, it will be all right. Let me help you, tell me what I must do."

She lightly touched his cheek, then slid her hand away to grip his shoulder. "Have you … ever heard … of a Curse of Fate?"

Noire frowned, wondering what curses had to do with anything. Was she delirious? He looked her over, but it did not seem like it, and so he only shook his head. It was not his place to question his Goddess, no matter the circumstances. "No, Goddess."

"It's the darkest of curses because it causes a fate loop, and such a thing affects not just those on whom it was cast, but everyone. It … ripples … you see."

"Goddess … "

"The people touched by the curse are forced to live the same life over and over. Same names. Same faces. Same choices. They must repeat their lives until a certain condition is met."

"That sounds horrible," Noire said. "I don't understand, Goddess. Is that what happened here? Did someone try to curse you and the others?"

She laughed, and it was the coldest sound Noire had ever heard. "That is what is about to happen here. Because of you—who stole my Unicorn and caused all this tragedy. It's your fault they're dead. You seduced away my Unicorn, who in turn convinced my Pegasus to fly away."

Noire tried to speak, tried to break free, but her nails were suddenly claws that sunk deep into his shoulder, and the glistening light in her eyes froze him in place. Her breath was sickly-sweet when she spoke, her lips so close to his he could taste the blood on them. "Curse of Fate I cast, Curse of Fate I bind to you. This day, this life, to live over and over again until the Unicorn and the Pegasus once more are mine. With your birth, the tragedy begins. With your death, it ends until it begins again. In threads of fate I bind you, bind all, and—"

She stopped, the last of the curse still on her lips as the last of her life finally slipped away. But she died too late to prevent the curse taking hold of him. Noire could feel it twining, binding. What was he supposed to do?

With your death, it ends …

Noire began to cry and abandoned the body of the Faerie Queen to crawl back to Gael. "What do I do?" he asked, wishing Gael were alive, wishing he'd been able to say goodbye—wishing none of it had happened, wondering how it had all gone so wrong when that morning it had all seemed so right.

"She didn't finish the curse."

Noire jerked his head up at the sound of another voice—an unfamiliar voice that went with the specter of an unfamiliar man. He was beautiful, with gold hair and eyes and skin warmed by the sun, dressed in simple breeches and shirt. Unfamiliar, but Noire realized who it must be by the way he glowed. "Lord Licht?"

"Only what remains of me," Licht said. "A fading light, as it were, Lost alongside my brothers and sisters. The casting of the Curse of Fate called me. She did not finish it, however. The fate loop has been put in place, but there is a chance."

"A chance?" Noire asked softly.

"She did not cast the most crucial part," Licht said. "She did not cast chaos out. If you dare to try, throw yourself into the loop, live your tragedy, time and time again—and try, each time, to break it. If my brothers are so convinced that chaos should dominate, let them prove it. Let them break the loop. End the tragedy, little panther. Let the whole mess begin again. Let us see what chaos can do."

He laughed:  derisive, bitter, sad. A moment later, he faded away entirely in a shimmer of golden light.