“I was afraid,” she said. When she saw the minute frown crease his brow, she added, “for my child. He is everything to me, and I have a duty to protect him.” Her amendment seemed to get through. The druid Munro had been right: the fae did revere children. Why would fear for herself surprise or disappoint him? Did he really believe the druids had more power than the fae? Huck told her druids were honoured in the Halls of Mist, but why?
“Prince Ulrich was the boy’s father?” the faerie asked.
“Yes.”
“You admitted killing him.” A statement, not a question. Clearly he’d overheard the conversation with her two visitors.
“He threatened my son,” she said. “Would you not do anything to protect your child?”
“How did you do it?” The guard asked the same question Munro had, but she noticed a difference in his tone. Where the druid wanted to know what weapon she used, the faerie seemed more awed, curious how she overpowered a faerie of Ulrich’s strength.
What should she say? “There is magic that has been passed down through my family,” she said.
He watched her, his expression unreadable. He wanted more, but she didn’t know what to say. Should she lie? Tell the truth? He seemed to view druids as potent and fearless. What answer would convince him to help Jago? She needed to sound powerful. Raising her chin, she looked squarely at the guard who separated her from her son. “I turned his blood against him,” she said.
He frowned slightly, then tilted his head to her in an apparent gesture of thanks, but she had no idea what he might be grateful for. She wanted to ask him for more information about Jago, but he left her alone again. “Hello?” she called. Switching to English, she asked. “Are you there?” Panic welled in her chest. “Please. I need you to help my son. I don’t care what happens to me.”
After a brief silence, the air carried a voice to her ears. “He is well. The queen protects him.”
No matter what she said or how she called, no more messages came. Those last words brought her no comfort, however. Jago needed to be protected
from
the queen. How could she possibly convince this guard to help her?
Lisle watched the four young men discuss the portal they intended to create. The goal was ambitious. Although she didn’t want to speed them on their way to Amsterdam and the secrets they might uncover there, their innovation and excitement enticed her. For the first time in an age, curiosity sparked within her.
They were new to their power and lacked access to even the basic lore that had been passed down through her family. Still, they worked competently as a unit. She had difficulty piecing together their stories. Three of them spoke with thick Scottish brogues. The American, at least, had an accent she easily understood. Although she wouldn’t want Huck to suspect, she felt kindly towards him because of his fierce determination to help Demi. If his resolve would stay as strong after he discovered the truth, Lisle wasn’t certain. As she’d done so many times over the decades, she pushed her fear and worry aside and focused.
She’d given up thinking she would keep her secrets forever. She would be as strong as she had to be and hold out as long as possible. As always, family was everything.
∞
Munro didn’t sense Eilidh’s presence in the Halls of Mist, so she must have returned to Caledonia. Disappointment twisted in his gut. He missed her and wanted her advice on the problems at hand. Maybe he should step through the portal and send word for her to meet him here. He sighed. Even if he did, she probably couldn’t arrive before they’d need to leave. Besides, they planned to travel through Caledonia anyway. He hoped she’d stayed nearby and wasn’t at the furthest reaches of the kingdom, otherwise he couldn’t justify a detour to see her before moving on to Amsterdam.
He walked quickly to the library, his steps turning into a jog. His rushing gait drew the attention of faeries in the streets, but at the moment, he didn’t care about decorum. Someone had to stop Konstanze from this destructive madness. Three days. That was all the time they had to save Demi’s life. A sinking feeling in his chest told him it wouldn’t be enough.
Racing downward, he descended into the library. He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the bottom and saw Eilidh, Oszlár, and Flùranach waiting for him.
“I sensed your anxiety as you approached,” Eilidh said. What she didn’t explain was why
he
didn’t feel
her
emotions. Why had she erected a barrier between them? The last time she had done so, they were having a serious argument, back before she’d even become a queen.
Questions filled his thoughts, but for the moment, he had to stay focused. “Rory needs Flùranach,” he said.
Flùranach bowed her head to him. “I’ll go now,” she said and flicked her eyes to Oszlár. When the old keeper nodded, she scurried to the stairs and left the three of them alone.
“We’re planning another trip to the human realm. We don’t have much time,” Munro said.
“Come,” Oszlár said. “Let us go into my study where we can enjoy some privacy. I can only assume Konstanze was less than reasonable.”
They followed the elder faerie, who led them back into the private keepers’ quarters. “It’s worse than I thought possible,” Munro told them. “She’s trying to use this thing with Demi to destroy the Druid Hall.” The trio sat in Oszlár’s study, and Munro related the story, Konstanze’s demands, and what little they learned from Demi.
“What do you hope to learn in Amsterdam?” Eilidh asked.
“Some proof of her innocence?” he said. “Both she and her grandmother are definitely hiding something. I just don’t think Demi killed Ulrich. And there’s no way Konstanze would execute her if we proved Demi’s innocence. Finding evidence might be a way to dodge the whole mess.”
Eilidh frowned. “Who do you believe did kill Ulrich?”
“That’s the problem. If Demi confessed but didn’t commit the murder, then we’re left with two obvious possibilities: Lisle and Jago.”
“The child?” Eilidh looked horrified. “He’s a baby.”
“Exactly. He’s four years old. Even full-blooded fae children couldn’t best an adult faerie as powerful as Ulrich. That leaves the grandmother. Who else would Demi give a false confession for? On the other hand, even if Demi suspects her grandmother and confessed on her behalf, we can’t be certain she’s right. We must consider whether one of Ulrich’s men killed him, maybe on Konstanze’s orders, and Demi is merely fearing the worst. The queen was adamant her brother wasn’t azuri, even though he must have been. Perhaps his alignment and his having a lethfae child were more than Konstanze was prepared to deal with.”
Eilidh met Oszlár’s gaze, and Munro sensed something significant passing between them. Trying his best to ignore the exchange, he went on. “Even if we discover proof of Lisle’s guilt, we’d be in a better position than we are now. She’s safe with us. But as long as we find evidence Demi
wasn’t
the one who murdered Ulrich, we have hope of getting her and her son back. To do that, we must return to Amsterdam.”
“The girl is due to be executed in two nights. Without access to the Ashkyne gates, you will find it difficult to return by then,” Oszlár said.
“That’s why I need you to stall her. Besides, all the evidence in the world won’t help if Konstanze refuses to listen. I asked her for a public trial in the Halls of Mist, but she shut me down. I hoped you would be able to persuade her.”
Oszlár tilted his head to the side as he considered. “There is no body that has ever made such a judgement as the one you’re requesting. The Halls are a place of utter neutrality. We wield no authority in the kingdoms.”
Munro’s hopes fell. “There’s no precedent, even in the distant past?”
“I will speak to the other keepers,” Oszlár said. “One thing is for certain: the Druid Hall must stand and grow stronger. The future of our race depends on your survival.” The keeper’s cryptic pronouncement wasn’t the first of its kind. Judging by the grim, stubborn set to his mouth, the old faerie had no intention of explaining his insights into the future. “No matter what the fate of this one druid,” he continued, “the Hall must stand.”
“You’re saying we should sacrifice one for the good of the whole,” Munro said. His stomach churned. He hated the idea, but hadn’t he made a similar argument to Huck? “We lose either way. If we back down, we’re in a weakened position, but aren’t we equally damaged if Konstanze executes one of us, proving we’re powerless to stop her? Jesus. What if she’s right? What claim do we have to power?”
“I will confer with the keepers and scholars to see if there is anything we can use to influence her decision,” Oszlár said. “Konstanze is most displeased with us since the Source Stone chose Caledonia over Ashkyne.”
“Surely she understands the keepers don’t control the Stone,” Munro said.
Oszlár shrugged. “The Stone has slept for a long time.”
That was no kind of answer, but Munro knew better than to push the keeper when the old faerie was in a cryptic mood. In all their time working together, Oszlár never revealed anything he didn’t want to. “Which reminds me,” Munro said. “The guys are working on a portal of our own.” At that announcement, Eilidh’s eyes widened and the keeper looked up sharply. “I don’t hold out much hope they’ll produce a working gate before we need to leave for Amsterdam. Who the hell knows if it’ll ever work? But…not all of us are going, so I’ll send Douglas and Aaron over to study the Stone while we’re gone. It’s a long shot, but maybe they can learn something useful by reading the runes on and around the chamber downstairs.”
“A working gate?” Eilidh said. “To which kingdom? Caledonia?”
“Directly to the human realm from the Halls of Mist. In their first attempt, they think they got a glimmer of the Isle of Skye. With a bit of work and experimentation, I suspect we’ll do it, but I doubt the hour I gave them will be enough.”
“You’re trying to bypass the kingdoms to travel directly into our borderlands?” She sounded stunned and affronted. The news sent her reeling and her control slipped, giving Munro a glimpse of her emotional state. Her mind was in utter chaos. Everything about her energy felt wrong. But his insight lasted only seconds before she rebuilt the wall between them. Trying to figure out what he’d seen was like trying to remember a dream that slipped away upon waking.
“
Your
borderlands are
our
homeland. We have as much right to the human realm as you do to the Otherworld. We don’t need anyone’s permission.” The statement came out angrier than he intended. He was just so damned tired of secrets and lies. Demi’s, Lisle’s, Oszlár’s, and even Eilidh’s.
“Of course not, my lord druid,” she said. Her sudden capitulation sounded patronising, and her words annoyed him as much as if she’d picked a fight with him. At least if they argued, they’d be honest about what they were feeling.
Munro sighed. They were supposed to get married soon. This wasn’t the way he planned to start their lives. Part of him did want to move back to Caledonia to be with her more. Had he spent too much time away? “Look,” he said. “Our efforts are nothing against you or your authority in the kingdoms or even in the borderlands. But as long as we need a queen’s permission to get to our own world, we’re vulnerable. What if all the queens decided to cut us off completely? What if we lose the faeries who support us at the Druid Hall? Even our food comes from the kingdoms, unless you count a few rows of vegetables and a couple of fruit trees.”
Her expression softened. “I would never do that, my love.”
He took her hand, relieved the angry moment had passed. “I have to think about what happens after you and I are gone.” Standing, he helped her to her feet as well. “Thank you, keeper,” he said to Oszlár with a respectful nod. “I know you’ll do everything you can. Douglas and Aaron will be here within the hour. Douglas appears to have a knack with the runes. I’m hopeful they’ll learn something useful.”
The keeper rose and gave a slight bow to both Eilidh and Munro. “Your Majesty. My lord druid.”
∞
Rory’s concentration fluttered as he inscribed a rune above the cupboard door frame. The others had helped him remove the door from its frame, but during the procedure, something intruded on his thoughts. Flùranach. He didn’t catch what she was thinking or even exactly where she was, but she skittered on the edges of his focus. Doing his best to centre his mind, he tried to ignore her pulsating excitement and finish the job at hand. Runework didn’t come as naturally to him as it did to Munro or Douglas. The younger druid’s talent surprised Rory, but he was glad to discover another weapon in their arsenal. They needed every advantage they could find.
Rory’s real talent was in shaping wood with the flows. Even as he ran the stylus over the frame, he detected the minute changes in the grain beneath his hand. He completed the rune for gate, much the same as he’d done on the slab earlier. This time he didn’t hesitate to spit into his hand and rub the fluid over the surface. Much to his surprise, the wood became instantly malleable, curving with his touch. It creaked, answering his unspoken request. It would never fit the opening any more, as the once-square frame became a gracefully arched entrance.
“There,” he said, stepping back. He turned to the others and caught Lisle staring intently at his work, an eager gleam in her eye. The old bat was cannier than she let on. Her expression reminded him of a storybook witch.