The Road to Bedlam: Courts of the Feyre, Book 2 (45 page)

    "It won't be good luck for you," said Amber quietly. "I'll send you back to Altair in two pieces. Hear my words."

    "I am charged by my Lord Altair," said Deefnir, "to bring to you, Blackbird, the felicitations of the Seventh Court."

    "What?" said Blackbird.

    "My Lord Altair sends his greetings. He would present them himself but he is otherwise engaged, so in his stead he sends me, his grandson, to carry his good wishes and congratulations to you for the coming of your child."

    "One more move and you die, Deefnir," said Amber. "Stop playing games."

    "I swear on my honour that I will not harm anyone here gathered, most particularly the half-breed Blackbird and her unborn child. Even if I wished to, I could not. It is foretold."

    "What's this about, Deefnir?" Garvin stepped in, turning aside the blades, placing himself between Deefnir and Blackbird.

    Deefnir remained kneeling. "The son will rise and they shall fall," he intoned.

    "What? What is he talking about?" demanded Blackbird.

    Garvin raised one eyebrow. "I'm not following this anymore than you are."

    "What are you saying?" Blackbird moved around Garvin, tightening her grip on the knife. Slimgrin stepped in close to her, his hand wrapping gently around her wrist where she held the iron knife, preventing her from using it.

    Garvin glanced at the hand with the iron knife. He nodded to Slimgrin. "We don't want any accidents, do we?"

    "He's talking about my baby, Garvin. I want to know what he means!" said Blackbird.

    "Deefnir?" said Garvin. "You want to explain why we're running around the country so you can bring Blackbird a greeting?"

    Deefnir smiled. "What hour is it?"

    Garvin's expression darkened, "It's after midnight, why?"

    Deefnir stood, slowly and cautiously, leaving the sword lying on the ground beside him. He opened his hands, showing he was unarmed.

    "My tasks are complete. I have brought the felicitations of the Seventh Court to the mother and to the son, and brought the Warders to me. Four Warders here, Fellstamp and Fionh with Lord Altair and the High Court. That makes six."

    "We are seven," said Garvin.

    "Not for long."

    "What do you mean?" asked Blackbird. "Where's Niall?"

    "He's in Ravensby, in Yorkshire," said Garvin.

    "Not anymore," said Deefnir. "It is the solstice day. Your last Warder is far from there and beyond all aid."

TWENTY-THREE

    Blackbird tried to wrench her wrist away from Slimgrin without success. "What have you done with him? What?"

    "Calm yourself," said Deefnir quietly, "for he has chosen, and there is nowhere he would rather be. He is fulfilling his destiny."

    Garvin turned to Amber and Tate. "Find Niall. Go."

    They vanished into the mist.

    "You have some explaining to do," said Garvin to Deefnir.

    "My Lord Altair awaits your pleasure," said Deefnir with a smile.

    "You can let go of me now." Blackbird tried to twist out of Slimgrin's long fingers.

    "You'd better go tell the Highsmiths that you're alive," said Garvin. "We will accompany Deefnir back to the High Court."

    "Where's Niall?" said Blackbird to Deefnir. "Where is he?"

    "All in good time," said Deefnir.

    "Don't worry," said Garvin. "We'll find him."

    "You'd better," said Blackbird. "You'd bloody well better."

    "If this is one of your games, Raffmir…"

    "I swear by my life, the hour is upon us. Hear the truth in my voice. Your daughter is in gravest peril and will die without aid. I have made preparations, but what must be done cannot be done alone. If you would have your daughter back, it must be now, before midnight."

    I stood and looked at him. I was dead tired, bruised from the jump to the boat, desperate for a change of clothes and a hot shower. Even so, the truth rang in his words. I sifted through them, searching for the double meaning, the lie within the truth that would give his plan away. I could find none.

    He offered the sword again and I took it.

    "Where is she?"

    He squeezed my shoulder. I stared at his arm until he removed it.

    "I will take you to her. Come, we must use the Ways."

    He strode away towards the town, confident that I would follow. I trailed after, unwilling to catch up with him, but drawn along all the same. When he reached the road leading up the hill past the church he waited for me and then walked alongside. We passed the church, where the lights blazed inside through the great east window.

    "Give me a moment," I said. "I need to deliver some news."

    He grasped my arm and hauled me up the hill. "We do not have a moment, Dogstar. If you can travel faster then do so. Our time is slipping away and we have much to achieve before the night turns into tomorrow. We must go now."

    I allowed him to draw me on, wondering why, after all these weeks, it was so critical now. The pace meant I felt every ache as we mounted the hill behind the town. We reached the Way-node and he barely hesitated before stepping on to it.

    "Follow swiftly."

    He vanished in a swirl of air and I stepped after him.

    The Ways are dangerous when tired, they sap the will and divert the attention. It took every fibre of concentration to follow the path left by Raffmir. Gritting my teeth, I swerved around the nodes, whipping tight around the Way-points. I was only barely aware that we headed south, focusing only on the chill path left behind him. We veered past node after node. Then we were there.

    I staggered forward on to solid ground, wrong-footed by the sudden return of gravity and space. Raffmir watched me, his smile loaded with mute sarcasm.

    "If you say anything about style, I will kick you," I said.

    "It never crossed my mind to comment." The lie was obvious in his voice, as he must have known it would be.

    I looked around. We were in a forest on high ground. I could see distant lights through the trees, but there was no obvious sign of civilisation. We were in the middle of nowhere.

    "My daughter is in the middle of a wood?"

    In response, he caught my sleeve and, despite my efforts to shake him free, led me through the trees until we emerged on a clear hillside. Below us was a broad expanse of heath land scattered with small dark buildings and what looked like abandoned vehicles. Beyond the heath was a complex of buildings, white lights arrayed around them. They glowed with industrial brightness, stark against the neglected landscape.

    "There," he said, "we will find your daughter."

    I watched for a moment. There was no sign of occupation, no movement of people or vehicles. The place appeared deserted but at the same time lights blazed in all the offices. Didn't these people know how to switch

a light off?

    "Where are we?" I asked.

    "Wiltshire."

    "No, I meant, where in particular are we? What is that place?"

    "That is where your daughter is being held. This is the facility in which she is imprisoned. Tonight we must break in to release her. I warn you, it is well guarded."

    "You didn't answer my question."

    "They call it after this heath on which we stand. It is called Porton Down."

    I glanced at him, wondering whether this was some kind of wind-up. "Porton Down? That's the chemical warfare place. The one where they develop nerve gas."

    "And for that reason alone, I would watch where you step. They test fire ordnance on this heath and you might lose a leg if you were to wander unwary, but chemical warfare is not the only thing they do here. There is research into all manner of things. It is true, though, that defence against chemical and biological weapons is their primary purpose. It is the biological aspect that concerns us. This is where they take the dangerous mongrels, the half-breeds out of control, the ones that cannot be contained through other means."

    "How do you know my daughter is in there?"

    "Are you doubting me?"

    "I'm asking how you know. You don't even live on this world. I've been trying to find her for weeks and yet you know where she is?"

    "Ah well, there fortune has smiled upon me. It has gifted me the ability to grant you what no other can. Your daughter's location came to me by happenstance, one of those moments of chance when you know that fortune does indeed play dice, and she always wins."

    "You came upon her by accident." I could not keep the sarcasm from my voice.

    "Not an accident, but I swear that I did not seek her out. Her name came up in conversation with regard to other matters. I made the connection and once the connection was made, it was obvious what must be done."

    "Which is?"

    "That I must bring you here to release her, so that you may be reunited."

    Once again I could hear the clear and perfect truth in his words and yet I felt that there was more that he was not telling me.

    "Swear to me that you are not intending her harm."

    He looked offended. "Have I not already sworn? Would you have me repeat my vow?"

    "I would remind you of it."

    "The reminder is unnecessary. I have already sworn not to harm your daughter or by my actions to allow either you or her to come to harm, but I face a dilemma. What we attempt is not without risk."

    He gestured at the complex of buildings. "If we do not rescue your daughter then she will die tonight, but releasing her is not without danger for you and for her. We may attempt a rescue and in so doing put your life and hers in jeopardy, but without the attempt you will surely lose her. Do you see my quandary?"

    "I understand, Raffmir. Though the question that remains is: what do you get out of this? The way I see it, you could stand aside and let matters take their course. If my daughter is dead, why do you care? Isn't that one less mongrel to pollute your precious bloodlines? With a free hand, you would kill her regardless, so why the effort to save her?"

    "Is it not enough that I would see you unharmed?"

    I thought for a moment. "No," I said. "I want to know why you're helping me."

    At that he looked at his feet and then sidelong at me.

    "Then I must confess my unwitting involvement in the harm that may come to her."

    "Unwitting?"

    He threw his arms wide in a gesture of innocence. "I swear I did not know she would be part of what is done here. There was never any intention that she would become involved. She was brought here without my knowledge or approval and it was only after she was within the establishment that I discovered she was here."

    "You? What would you be doing at Porton Down?"

    "That I am not at liberty to divulge."

    I turned to face him and poked him in the chest with my finger. "Oh no. You don't get out of it that easily. If you are involved, you can't just deny all knowledge and expect me to accept it."

    "It is not my secret to tell." He looked down at my finger and it was my turn to remove it.

    "But you know what's going on. Come on, Raffmir, what are you up to?"

    He shrugged and turned to face the distant buildings.

    I stepped into his line of sight, forcing him to look at me. "You've done something that caused my daughter to come to harm in direct contravention to the vow you made. Otherwise I would not be here. I think you'd better tell me what you've done. Either you explain it to me or I'm going for Garvin and the Warders."

    "By the time you return she will be dead."

    "And you knew that would be the case."

    He sighed. "I suppose that one way or another it will be known tonight. By the time this night is over, what is done will be done."

    I waited for an explanation.

    "The Seventh Court have been funding research into a cure for the condition with which your daughter is afflicted."

    "What do you mean, afflicted?"

    "A way of reversing the effect of fey bloodlines, of returning those who have inherited fey abilities to a normal human life."

    "It's not a disease, Raffmir."

    "There are those who would disagree with you. Within this establishment there are a number of individuals who would gladly receive treatment if it would only reverse the changes visited upon them."

    "And you have been funding this?"

    "The Seventh Court has, through a network of foundations and trusts, yes."

    "That's ridiculous. This is a defence establishment. Surely they check into the sources of their funding? Otherwise they could be infiltrated by spies or enemy agents."

    "We are not spies, though, are we? And we are not foreign. The foundations of which we speak were established in this country hundreds of years ago and have been engaged in supporting research and building understanding for all of that time. There are no enemies here."

    "But why would the Seventh Court get involved in human research?"

    "Because if a treatment can be found then the mongrels can return to being human and the Feyre can return to being fey. The reason for our exile becomes a moot point. You have not lost anything and we have everything to gain."

    "But you would be forcing this treatment on the half-breeds?"

    "It is a humane alternative to culling. You would live as long as you were ever going to. It is a compromise."

    "This is what Altair's been discussing with the High Court?"

    "No. We hoped to, but unfortunately it doesn't work. I will not say that I understand the science but whatever they are doing has the effect of removing the ability to contain the power without quenching it."