Shadowspell (3 page)

When we finally got to the safe house, Dad asked my mom if she would make us all some tea while he and I waited in the guardroom for Finn to arrive. It came out sounding more like an order than a request, but my mom didn’t object.

The guardroom wasn’t as cozy as the living room in my suite, but there was a reasonably comfortable sitting area. I plopped down heavily on the couch, but my dad was too agitated to sit.

“Okay,” I said. “What’s the scoop on the Erlking? Why did we have to head for the hills as soon as you saw him? You said he wasn’t allowed to hunt in Avalon.”

“It’s complicated.”

I snorted. “Like anything in this place is simple. Come on, Dad. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t I have a right to know?”

He let out a frustrated sigh, which seemed to release some of his tension. He stared at the floor as he spoke, and his jaw was tight with strain.

“Once upon a time, the Erlking and his Wild Hunt were the scourge of Faerie. This was a long, long time ago. They would hunt the members of both Courts, slaughtering them at will. Those they didn’t kill were forced to join the Hunt, slaves to the Erlking’s will. Sometimes, the Hunt would ride out into Avalon and wreak havoc among the mortals living here. Mortals who were forced into the Wild Hunt invariably died, their bodies pushed to the breaking point as they tried to keep up the relentless pace of the Hunt.”

My mom entered the guardroom, carrying a tray with the tea. I was more of a coffee girl myself, but the people of Avalon apparently couldn’t live without their tea. I was learning to tolerate it in the interest of being polite. Mom put the tray on the coffee table, then poured out three cups as my dad continued.

“Eventually, the Queens of Faerie were able to make a deal with the Erlking, a deal they sealed with magic. The Erlking agreed that he would no longer hunt members of either Court without permission of that Court’s Queen. Ever since, he and his Wild Hunt have been the Faerie Queens’ assassins and executioners. Still a nightmare, but a
leashed
nightmare.”

I frowned as I thought that over. “What did the Erlking get out of this agreement?”

Dad stirred his tea with studied intensity. “He gained the privilege of hunting the Courts’ outcasts.”

My frown deepened. “But he was hunting them already, right?”

My dad didn’t answer.

“I think there was another part of the deal,” my mom said, surprising me. “The Erlking lives for the hunt. It’s part of his elemental nature, and yet he allowed the Queens to put limits on him. He
must
have gotten some advantage out of it. But it seems that the Fae who are old enough to remember are under a geis not to speak of it.”

“What’s a geis?”

“It’s a restriction that’s enforced by magic. The spell was cast by both Queens and binds all the members of their courts. The Fae who are old enough to remember literally
can’t
talk about it.”

Dad continued stirring his tea, round and round and round. I looked back and forth between him and Mom.

“Are you old enough to remember?” I asked my dad.

He nodded, but said nothing.

“And you’re not allowed to talk about it?”

He turned his head and looked at me, but he still didn’t speak. He didn’t even nod or shake his head.

“It must be a very powerful geis,” my mom said. “They can’t even tap dance around the truth. They just flat out can’t talk about it. They can’t even admit that a geis exists, even though everyone knows it must.”

“And no one has any idea what they’re hiding?”

Mom shook her head. “There are lots and lots of theories, but I don’t think any one is more likely than another to be true.”

I digested all that for a while, frustrated that I couldn’t get the whole story. Obviously, I’d seen more than enough evidence that the Erlking was one scary dude. But I still didn’t get why Dad had reacted as if the guy was a direct threat to me.

“If the Erlking can’t hunt in Avalon,” I asked my dad, “then what are you so worried about?”

Dad finally took a sip of his well-stirred tea. “He can’t
hunt
in Avalon. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill. Or worse. There is a geis on him that prevents him from attacking anyone within the borders of the city—with the exception of people he chases here from Faerie. The geis does not prevent him from defending himself, however, and he’s free to do whatever he wishes to anyone foolish enough to attack him or his Huntsmen.”

“Still not getting it,” I said. “Who’d be stupid enough to attack him when they know that allows him to kill them?” Certainly not
me,
which should mean he was no threat to me whatsoever. “Besides, won’t he just go back to Faerie now that his, er, hunt is over?” Once again, I had to fight off the image of that black rider on his black horse raising his sword to kill a helpless, unarmed man.

“The Erlking has a unique ability to provoke people into acting against their own best interests. And no, I very much doubt he’ll go back to Faerie. Every time he’s pursued someone into Avalon, he’s stayed for at least a few weeks. He even maintains a household here.”

I shook my head. There were a lot of things about Avalon I liked—if somewhat reluctantly—but the weird-ass details of its treaty with Faerie weren’t among them.

“Why even let him into the city in the first place?” I asked. “You won’t let Spriggans and other Unseelie monsters cross the border, and he seems way scarier than any of them.”

Dad’s smile turned wry. “Indeed he is. Which is why the city had to make a deal with him. It was either agree to terms by which he could be allowed to come to Avalon, or go to war against him. Most of the Fae are immortal in that they won’t ever die of natural causes. But as far as anyone can tell, the Erlking is
literally
immortal. Back in the days when there was open warfare between him and the Courts, a Seelie Knight actually managed to behead him in battle. The Erlking picked up his head, put it back on his neck, and killed the Knight. It behooves the people of Avalon not to make an enemy of a man who cannot be killed.”

I saw the sense in it, but I couldn’t say I liked it. It seemed to me that there had to be a better solution. Never mind that I couldn’t imagine what it was. I guessed that considering how powerful the Erlking was, we were lucky he’d allowed any limitations to be imposed on him at all.

What the hell had the Faerie Queens given him to persuade him to stop hunting their people? Whatever it was, it had to be huge. And I very much doubted it was anything good.

Dad put his teacup down and turned to face me on the sofa. He didn’t have the most expressive face in the world, but I got an immediate “uh-oh” feeling even before he opened his mouth. My hand tightened on my own teacup, and I held my breath.

“It’s not impossible that one or both of the Queens may have sent the Erlking here to assassinate you,” my father told me, and the bottom of my stomach dropped out.

Okay, I already knew the Queens wanted me dead. I mean, Titania, the Seelie Queen, whose Court I was technically affiliated with—I refused to say I
belonged
to it—would have been satisfied if I’d left Avalon never to return. But because Mab, the Unseelie Queen, would hunt me to the end of my days whether I stayed or left, my dad had decreed I was better off staying. They worried that my powers as a Faeriewalker—like, say, my ability to carry a working gun into Faerie—made me a danger to their thrones. Considering my aunt Grace had wanted to use me to assassinate Titania and usurp her throne, the Queens weren’t just being paranoid.

But even knowing the Queens wanted me dead, it was still a shock to hear that they might have sent that terrifying immortal creature—and his pack of Huntsmen—after me. I was just a kid, for God’s sake! It was like using a cannon to kill a fly.

Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t finished. “I know this will be an … inconvenience, but I think it’s best for all concerned if you remain in your safe house for the duration of the Erlking’s stay.”

“No!” The word was out before I had a chance to think or in any way tone down my reaction. I shot to my feet and put some distance between my dad and myself.

“Seamus,” my mom said tentatively, “maybe we should…” Her voice trailed off at the cold look he gave her. It was beginning to seem like what backbone she had was fueled by alcohol. Right at that moment, I wished I had the stubborn drunk back.

I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest. “No way are you keeping me trapped down here for however long the Erlking decides to hang around!” I managed to keep myself from shouting, but just barely.

“It’s for your own safety,” he said, trying the same cold stare on me that he’d just used on my mom.

My will has always been stronger than hers, and it would take more than a look to make me back down. “No way!” I repeated. “You said yourself that he can’t attack people unless they attack him first. If you think I’m going to attack that guy, you’re nuts. He can’t hurt me, and you can’t lock me up in this dungeon like a prisoner.”

Anger sparked in his eyes, but his voice stayed level. “I can, and I will.” He rose to his feet, towering over me. “When you’ve had some time to calm down, you’ll see that it’s for the best.”

“Like hell I will!” Usually, I did a better job than this at keeping my temper under control around him. Partly because he was always so calm himself, and partly because he had way too much power over me for me to risk antagonizing him. But this was too much.

“You said yourself you won’t have any legal power over me when I turn eighteen,” I said. “And you want me to stay in Avalon for the rest of my life. If you keep me prisoner down here, I swear I’ll be out of Avalon the second I come of age.”

I’m not much of a weeper, but I wasn’t above a little manipulation. Instead of blinking away the tears that burned my eyes, as I usually would, I let a few spill down my cheeks. Dad had done everything in his considerable power to make my safe house into a homey, comfortable place. But the fact remained, it was a freakin’ dungeon, and no amount of pretty decorations could fully hide the fact.

I certainly didn’t want to get myself killed. I’m not a total moron. So I didn’t complain—much, at least—about having to live down here. And I didn’t complain—much—about always having a bodyguard nearby. But I honestly didn’t think I could stand it if Dad forced me to stay here until the Erlking decided it was time to go home, and I didn’t think the Erlking was a significant threat to me.

My dad isn’t exactly the easiest person to negotiate with. He’s had centuries—at least—of practice, and he has so much confidence in himself and in his decisions that once he takes a stand, he has no intention of budging. Ever.

He stared at me for a long time, and I could almost see the thoughts flitting back and forth through his head. Maybe he was wondering if there was a perfect argument he could use to change my mind. Or maybe he was wondering if I really meant what I said.

Finally, he let out a loud sigh, and his shoulders slumped. “All right,” he said, sounding like the words were being dragged out of him under torture. “I won’t insist you stay in the safe house constantly. But I
will
insist you not leave here without at least two powerful guardians, and that you always check with me first before you do.”

I was just beginning to relax, thinking I’d won the battle, when my dad dropped a bombshell.

“However, I think under the circumstances, you will have to skip your friend’s birthday party. It would be too great a security risk.”

I clamped my teeth down on the protest that wanted to erupt from my mouth. I knew Dad had never been thrilled with the idea of me going to Kimber’s party. Not only was Kimber a member of the Unseelie Court, while my dad was Seelie, she was also the daughter of Alistair Leigh, my dad’s chief political rival. Avalon is ruled by a Council consisting of six humans and six Fae. The thirteenth member of the Council—the Consul—breaks ties and is therefore in many ways the most powerful person in Avalon. The Consulship changes hands from Fae to human every ten years, and both my father and Kimber’s father hoped to win the position. My dad thought my attending her party might have political implications, and he’d made it clear he’d rather I skip it. I had made it equally clear that I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Now, it looked like the stupid Wild Hunt was giving Dad just the excuse he needed to keep me from going.

He was waiting for my protest. I could see it in his eyes, in the stiff way he held himself. Instinct told me that he’d budged as much as he was going to, that it was in fact practically a miracle that he’d budged at all.

With Dad, I knew I had to pick my battles, and I tried to pick only those I had a hope of winning.

“Maybe the Hunt will be gone by Friday night,” I said, trying to sound hopeful, though these days I never expected my life to be that easy. Notice how I failed to explicitly agree to his terms …

Dad relaxed, and I guessed he hadn’t caught my verbal side step. “We can hope so,” he said, in a tone that said there was no hope in hell.

I barely heard him, because I was already beginning to plot how I would get to Kimber’s party even without my dad’s permission.

chapter three

As soon as Finn arrived to guard me, my dad took off, saying he needed to make additional security arrangements. I expected him to take my mom with him, but he didn’t.

“I’ll come back for you in a couple of hours,” he told her. “I thought you and Dana might want to spend a little time together without me looking over your shoulder.”

Mom cocked her head at him suspiciously. “Oh? You’re sure you’re not leaving me here to keep me out of your hair?”

Dad almost smiled, but the expression was so fleeting I’d have missed it if I’d blinked. “That too.” He nodded at each of us—his version of a good-bye—then conjured his little ball of light and headed out into the tunnels.

I stood in the middle of the guardroom, suddenly uncomfortable now that it was just me, my mom, and Finn. On the one hand, it would be nice to have some time alone with my mom. Dad was usually around when I got to visit with her, and even when we were alone, it rarely lasted more than a few minutes. But I never liked leaving Finn all by himself out here in the guardroom. Yeah, he was my bodyguard, and that was his job, but I couldn’t quite master my dad’s ability to treat him like a piece of furniture.