The Road to Bedlam: Courts of the Feyre, Book 2 (52 page)

    There was a flash, brighter than daylight, brighter than anything. It streamed from every doorway, every pinprick hole in the helicopter, outlining it against the blistering light. I covered my eyes with my hands, clearly seeing the bones outlined through them. A screaming, squealing, grinding clash of metal echoed across the sky.

The chopper exploded.

    The shockwave thudded through me, a low pulse of destruction. Fire and metal rained down. Chunks of fuselage, scything lengths of rotor, metres long, strewed themselves out. The sky filled with a boiling cloud of thunderous fire, rolling ponderously upwards.

    I was thrown backwards, sliding down the metal stairs, sheltering in the access as fragments rained down. When I opened my eyes, Alex was standing over me, looking down. I could not interpret her expression. It might have been fear.

    There was a dull thud from below. The doorway had finally given way. I got to my feet. Opening the well of darkness within me, I drew energy into me until I glowed with an aura of white fire. I tugged my daughter out on to a rooftop scattered with burning debris, acrid with smoke and burning oil. Focusing on the distant hill, I hugged her close to me, pressing her skin to mine. The world faded before me and I stepped behind it, emerging through the flash on to the distant hilltop.

    Looking back, we could see the plume of black smoke rising over the buildings and drifting out across the darkened moorland. Sirens wailed and blue and red lights flickered. Tiny figures ran around, shots echoed out, but there was no one left to fight.

    We were free.

TWENTY-SIX

When Blackbird first showed me the Ways, the means to travel far across country on a wave of power, I was blown away by it. I was expecting the same reaction from Alex.

    All she said was, "S'OK."

    We travelled slowly, one Way-node at a time, in the knowledge that both of us were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. I shepherded her through each point until we arrived at the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what to expect when we reached our destination. Where else could I go?

    I couldn't return to the guest house with my daughter in tow, not without first establishing what had happened after I left. Had they found the boat? Was Shelley OK? What about the missing men? Were the police involved? I needed somewhere safe, not an inquisition.

    The house in the woods had burned and there was no way I could take Alex back to her mother, even if her house wasn't still being watched. There were too many questions to answer there too. We would have to answer them in due course, but not now, not tonight.

    The High Courts had once said that they would accept my daughter if she inherited my fey bloodline.

    That was a promise and the Feyre kept their promises.

    I was relying on it.

    We arrived at the Way-node under the High Courts of the Feyre, not knowing what welcome we would receive, whether I was still a Warder and if I had any right to be there at all.

    Unsure what reception I would receive from the other Warders when they found out where I had been and what I had done, we arrived cautiously, first me, then Alex. I caught her as she stumbled into me off the node, the rush of adrenalin finally drained from her, her knees shaking from exhaustion.

    Slimgrin and Amber were guarding the node.

    Slimgrin immediately disappeared upstairs while Amber took the sword from me and simply guided us to the floor against the wall where we could rest, our backs against the stone. It was only then that I noticed that Alex was still wearing the open-backed hospital gown from the test lab. She was practically naked. I put my arm around her and she collapsed across me, her head resting on my chest, her dark curls winding under my hand as I stroked her hair. I could feel her trembling as she breathed.

    They could do what they liked. I wasn't moving for anyone.

    Then people started arriving. Everyone talked at once. They were all asking me questions. I couldn't hear them, or if I could hear them I didn't know which one to answer first. Was I hurt? Was Alex hurt? Did I know that Altair had gone and taken Raffmir with him? Where had the blood come from? Why hadn't I told them what I intended to do?

    "Silence!" Garvin's voice cut across the mayhem.

    In the quiet that followed, one figure crept between them, inserting herself under my other arm and resting against me.

    Blackbird.

    I kissed her head and stroked her shoulder while Garvin gave orders. Rooms were to be prepared, clothes to be provided, food was summoned, Amber was to carry Alex while Tate helped me to my feet.

    "No." I held my daughter close as Amber tried to collect the sleeping Alex from me like a floppy child. "Don't take her from me."

    Alex's eyes opened suddenly and she grabbed my arm, suddenly aware that we were being separated. Her eyes had a corona of lavender fire and there was a low rumbling from beneath the ground.

    "Fionh!" Garvin's voice cut across the murmurs. "Damp it down!"

    "I'm trying," said Fionh. "She's strong."

    "Ah!" Blackbird wrapped her arms around the bump, curling around it protectively. "The baby! She's hurting the baby!"

    The rumbling died in an instant. The look on Alex's face was as if she had been slapped.

    "I didn't mean…" she faltered.

    Silence filled the gap as I looked from one to the other. Alex looked shocked at what she'd done, but Blackbird looked accusingly at her.

    "I wouldn't hurt you or the baby," Alex said.

    Garvin's voice cut across it all. "Amber, take Blackbird up to her room. Fionh, take Niall and Alex up to the west wing and find them a suite as far from Blackbird as possible. Slimgrin, go with them."

    Blackbird was led away by Amber, while we were half-carried and half-guided along the hall in the other direction and up the stairs to a suite of rooms. Stewards ran around turning back sheets, running baths, bringing towels. We were the centre of a vortex of activity, everything whirling around us.

    Garvin told Fionh to take Alex and get her showered and cleaned up.

    "Bathroom, Alex," Fionh told her, gently.

    Alex stared at her. "Don't…"

    "Alex, please," I interjected. "You're covered in blood and dust. No more tonight. Go and get cleaned up. Fionh will help you. She'll look after you."

    Alex looked at me and must have seen how close to exhaustion I really was. She lowered her eyes and went with Fionh.

    "She's not crazy," I told Garvin.

    "She's not in control, either," he answered. "Her emotions are driving her power, making her unpredictable and dangerous. She can't be allowed near Blackbird. Think about it. The baby is floating in water, near enough. It's too dangerous."

    "She didn't mean to hurt anyone."

    "She doesn't have to mean it."

    "She's exhausted. So am I. She'll be better in the morning."

    "I've seen this before, Niall, though not with anyone that strong. She has no brakes, no limits. It's all or nothing. Fionh was having trouble damping it down. That's Fionh we're talking about."

    "It'll be better tomorrow," I insisted.

    "You'd better tell me what happened."

    It took several attempts. I kept missing pieces out; the mess with the girls and the boat, finding out that Greg was fey. It was all jumbled up in my head and even when I thought I'd told it all I wasn't sure it made sense.

    "Where is the vial now?" asked Garvin.

    I pointed to my jacket. "Inside pocket, double wrapped, plastic container."

    Tate searched my jacket and came back with the container. He handed it to Garvin who held it up to the light to view the vial of liquid inside.

    "Tate, go to Kimlesh and tell her that on the authority of the Warders I seek an immediate audience with the High Court. Get them assembled as soon as possible. Slimgrin, guard these two with Fionh while they get some rest. No one goes in or out without my say-so. Fellstamp, close the Way. No one in or out."

    He turned to the diminutive figure of Mullbrook, who had been directing operations among the stewards.

    "Mullbrook, if you could get some food inside these people and get Alex some rest. I need Niall dressed and presentable inside twenty minutes. Can you do it?"

    "If I have Mr Dogstar's co-operation, that is quite possible," he said, nodding once, slowly.

    Garvin glanced at me and I nodded.

    "Do it. Get to it, people." He strode out of the room.

    Under Mullbrook's supervision, I was taken through a connecting door to another suite, where I showered and then had the multiple slashes and cuts I had acquired when the helicopter exploded cleaned and dressed. My clothes were laid out for me while I wolfed down a freshly cut sandwich of cheddar cheese, black sticky onion chutney and pale green lettuce layered into crusty white bread and washed down with ice-cold water. It was just enough to revive me.

    I returned, dressed in new and presentable grey, just in time to kiss my daughter on the forehead as she tucked into the meal of golden breaded chicken, sliced fried potatoes and corncakes in batter, with a side order of chocolate cake. She looked pink and scrubbed and more like herself, but there were dark rings under her eyes. She looked about her warily as if someone might come and take the food away at any moment.

    "Don't eat too much, or you won't sleep."

    "Dad? Stop nagging me. I'm starving." She stabbed a chip with a fork and devoured it in two bites.

    "Fionh, don't let her stuff herself stupid, will you?"

    Fionh shrugged, but kept a wary eye on Alex.

    "Dad! Leave it, OK?"

    "OK. I'll be back in a while. I expect to find you in bed, young lady."

    She mumbled something through a mouthful that might have been, "Don't tell me what to do."

    "I'm simply stating what I expect to find," I told her.

    "Whatever." She waved her hand airily, then collected a second piece of chicken.

    I was saved from the debate by the return of Garvin. He looked me up and down.

    "You'll do. Come."

    With Garvin before me and Slimgrin behind, I was escorted down to the main chamber of the High Court of the Feyre. Tate and Fellstamp were waiting and the Lords and Ladies were already gathered. I was brought before them with minimal formality.

    "Tell us," said Krane, leaning forward from his huge dark-wood chair, "about this." He held up the plastic bottle containing the serum.

    I made a better job of describing what had happened this time, from the half-breed fey imprisoned in glasswalled cells, to the shotguns loaded with iron shot. The only thing I left out was what my daughter had done to Doctor Watkins's severed head. That was probably better left unreported.

    "And you say that Altair was funding this facility?" Teoth asked.

    "Yes, my Lord. Raffmir told me the Seventh Court had approved plans and funded it through a series of trusts and foundations."

    "Was there any sign of direct involvement from the Seventh Court, or any other Court, for that matter?" asked Barthia.

    "What are you implying, Barthia? asked Yonna. "You know none of us had anything to do with this."

    "I'm simply asking if there was any sign of direct fey involvement," stated the Ogre.

    "None that I saw, my Lady. Everything appears to have been done from a distance."

    "I see." She sat back, crossing her massive arms in front of her.

    "Are there anymore questions for the Warders?" asked Krane.

    A slow ripple of shaking heads travelled around the room.

    "Very well. Will you leave Fellstamp with us, please, Garvin?" said Krane.

    "Yes, my Lord."

    I followed Garvin back through the double doors. He closed them gently behind us. Tate was waiting outside. He handed me my sword, sheathed in a new polished scabbard.

    I looked at Garvin. "I'm not being kicked out of the Warders, then?"

    "Kicked out?" asked Garvin. "Why would you be kicked out?"

    "You did tell me not to go after Alex," I admitted.

    "I told you not to go until you were ready, but I also gave you Warder's discretion." He guided me down the corridor away from the chamber, flanked by Tate.

    "There is no test for becoming a Warder. You train until you're ready and then you're in, straight into the crucible, no rehearsal, no safety net. You act with the full authority of the High Court and, for that reason alone, judgement is paramount."

    "But I made such a mess of the situation in Ravensby. I'm still not sure I did the right thing."

    "Where there is a clear course of action, where right and wrong are easily established, where the will of the courts is clear, the Warders are almost never needed. All we do is deliver the will of the Courts and they sort it out amongst themselves."

    He stopped and turned to face me.

    "The Warders are called in when it's messy, when there is no clear solution, or when there are too many solutions, all competing for attention. We are needed when there is no right, only a choice between multiple wrongs; where there is no justice, merely closure. We are called to act when no one else will, when it's already too late. That's what being a Warder means."

    "You make it sound so attractive."

    "Most Warders are chosen. They do not choose themselves."

    "So how did you become a Warder?"

    Garvin looked me in the eye and for a moment, I thought I saw a shadow there. Then it was gone.

    "That," he said, "is a story for another day." He squeezed my shoulder. "You have done well, and the job is not over yet. The High Court has heard your testimony and must decide what action is merited. Get some rest while you can. I will have someone wake you as soon as I have news."