A Shiver of Light (26 page)

I wanted to look behind and see Galen’s face, but I couldn’t manage it; of all the men in my life he was the one I thought would be horrified at what Rhys had done, not agree with it.

“I pray to Goddess and God that you never know such grief, but remember this, Galen, it’s going to hurt no matter what you do, and vengeance just postpones it. I realized in the end that I was angry with myself, blamed myself, because I had wanted that fight. I led him to his death. I was his father and I failed him, and that was why I killed all of them. Once I understood that, I didn’t want the bards to sing of it. I didn’t deserve any stories. I had made certain that that tribe of people passed out of all memory, all history, so I did the same for me. It seemed fair.”

“But we have the stories of Cromm Cruach,” I said.

“Oh, Merry, that wasn’t my first name.”

“What was your first name?” Galen asked.

Rhys shook his head, his hair tickling against my face. “No, that name, that person, is gone. He died with the last breath of a people that he destroyed for a mistake that was his own. I buried that name with the children I slaughtered, because when they were all dead I understood that they were no more important than my son, but they were no less important either. They could have grown up and been good men, good women, but I stole that chance from them. They were mortal and had only a short time to live anyway, and I stole what few years they had, because my immortal son had managed to die at the hands of human technology. I am deeply ashamed of what I’d done, so I destroyed my name, my stories, my history in a sort of penance, though even that was such hubris, thinking that the dead could be appeased by punishing myself.”

We held him close, we murmured what comfort we could think of, but in the end what comfort is there? Then I thought of something, and had to know. “It took me almost fifteen years to find the murderer of my father. Cel was trying to kill me and all of us at the time, so it was self-defense, but I’m still glad I killed him.”

“Has it lessened your grief for your father?” Rhys asked.

I thought about it. “Yes, yes it has. I feel like I avenged him.”

“If my son had died at the hands of a true enemy, another sidhe worth fighting with all the magic and grace I had back then, maybe it would have been more satisfying, but I attacked people who could not hope to defend against me; I was a truly terrible power to be reckoned with on the battlefield, and I didn’t attack most of them in battle. I hunted them down in the streets, the mountains, anywhere they ran to hide; I found them, and I killed them.”

“Cel was already your enemy, Merry,” Galen said. “We all wanted him dead, because we were afraid the queen might actually give him the throne.”

Rhys said, “You didn’t kill Cel just to avenge your father, Merry; you killed him to keep all of the Unseelie safe from him, and that is worth killing for.”

“You know, most people’s pillow talk isn’t about battle and killing,” I said.

“Boring people,” Galen said.

“Very boring,” Rhys said.

“I don’t know, sometimes I think it might be nice to be a little boring if it would keep us from having to kill people, or keep them from trying to kill us.”

To that there was nothing to say, because we all agreed, that would be nice. “‘May you live in interesting times.’ It sounds so positive, but it’s not,” I said.

“That’s an Arabic curse, you know: ‘May you live in interesting times,’” Rhys said.

“I thought it was Chinese,” Galen said.

“Either way, Merry’s right; a little boring routine might be nice for a lifetime.”

“If you want boring and routine, you’re in the wrong bed,” I said.

He turned in my arms so he could look at me. “Am I? Well, then let’s do something that’s not boring, or routine, shall we?”

I laughed. “We just did that.”

He grinned. “Let’s do it again.” He looked across me at the other man. “Unless you aren’t up to it again this soon.”

Galen grinned back. “You’re the older man in this bed; I’m a young one, I’ll keep up.”

“Old, really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“If I could have intercourse, you could actually prove who can keep up, but you can’t just keep doing me by hand and have me suck you; I’ll strain a muscle in my tongue.”

That made them look down at me, surprised, and then they laughed, we all laughed, but when the laughter stopped we did one more round of “not boring, and not routine,” and lying between the two of them with the radiance of our bodies making colored shadows on the ceiling, so that our magic was brighter than the sunlight itself, I owned that maybe I didn’t want boring and routine anything, but safety for me and the babies and the men I loved, that I did want. Can you be safe and live an interesting life? Maybe not.

QUEEN ANDAIS WAS
on the large mirror in the dining room again, but it was a very different call. She was wearing a sleek black pantsuit that covered almost all of her; only the lack of a shirt underneath the vest left more cleavage than Auntie Andais should probably have been flashing around her nephew and nieces, but the outfit was such a concession that I wouldn’t have dared complain. This was as much as she dressed for a press conference; it was a big step in the right direction.

Her consort, Eamon, was at her side in a tailored black suit, but he’d added a round-collared white shirt with pencil-thin black stripes under his vest so he was showing far less chest.

Doyle was at my side, along with Mistral, Rhys, and Galen. Kitto was back in his place under my feet as my footstool. I’d let him know that this was an informal conference and he could pass on his role, but he had said, “I still do not believe that I am so lucky as to be one of the fathers of the babes, and I would have a place at your side, Merry, even if it is under your feet.” What could I say to that?

Kitto was wearing yoga pants today, shirtless, no shoes, because the men were working out after the call. Doyle had insisted everyone learn how to protect themselves at least a little, no exceptions. Doyle and Galen were in jeans, and it was slacks for Rhys and Mistral, because their weaponry needed a belt and fitted waistband to fit properly. They’d change after the phone call. Doyle’s weapons blended in with his all-black clothing, but Galen’s blue jeans and green T-shirt showed every weapon he had. Mistral and Rhys were in suits with jackets designed to go over weapons, so it was less obvious. One of the exiled lesser fey here in L. A. had built them all leather holsters that were magically less visible under clothes, but the men had decided they wanted the queen to see that they were armed. Well, except for the pregnant lady. I knew how to use a gun and a sword, but when my doctor approved it I was joining the training. It probably wouldn’t have helped me against Taranis, but I wanted more options if there was ever a next time. I was wearing one of the purple dresses that was actually fitted around the waist. It was good to be back in real clothes again, though the strappy black sandals with their stiletto heels were just for show. I so wasn’t ready to walk in anything like that yet. We’d learned that Kitto liked feeling heels in his back during sex, so he was very okay with the shoes.

“You must make Taranis afraid of you, Meredith; only fear will hold him in check.” She’d requested to see the babies, but we were talking business first.

“He’s already attacked Doyle, and we believe that was motivated out of fear. The king would not willingly meet him in a duel,” I said.

“Yes, he feared the Queen’s Darkness, but he does not fear Doyle in the same way. He feared me, Meredith, and my Darkness as an extension of me, but without my protection and threat he sees Doyle as only your strong right hand; chop that hand off and it makes you even weaker than you are. You must make Taranis fear you, Meredith, you and no other, if you are to rule the Unseelie Court. If he does not fear you, then it is only a matter of time before the Seelie try to take your throne and combine it with theirs.”

“He’s made it clear that he would welcome me as his queen,” I said, and looked carefully at nothing when I said it, because I couldn’t keep the emotion out of my eyes and Andais had used my emotion against me for years.

“I thought about using his rape of you as a reason to challenge him to a duel.”

That made me look at her again. “I didn’t think you cared that much about my fate, Aunt Andais.”

“It’s not your fate, Meredith, it’s the insult of him thinking he could kidnap and attack my heir with no retribution.”

“Of course, it’s an insult to you,” I said, and just shook my head. She didn’t understand that she’d just admitted that what happened to me was important only because it showed a lack of respect for her.

Eamon laid a hand on her shoulder and looked at me. His face showed that he at least understood, and understood that she didn’t. I tried to tell him with my eyes that I appreciated it. Andais went on talking, oblivious.

She said, “It is, but I believe Taranis is actually insane. He has convinced himself that you went willingly with him and were kidnapped from him by the evil Unseelie. The King of Light and Illusion seems to be truly deluded.”

“I agree,” I said.

“He babbles of taking you as queen if he can only strip you of the abusive Unseelie that are poisoning your mind against him. If I wanted to strip you of your protection I, too, would begin with the Princess’s Darkness. It really doesn’t have the same ring as the Queen’s Darkness, does it?”

“No, Aunt Andais, it does not.”

She looked just past my shoulder to where Doyle stood, as he had once stood by her, though he had his hand on my shoulder, a gesture I don’t think I’d ever seen him make to her. I raised my hand to lay it over his.

“No need to remind me that I neglected my Darkness.”

“I didn’t touch his hand to remind you of anything, Aunt Andais; I did it because I wanted to touch him.”

She made a small movement with her mouth that meant she was unhappy, and then smoothed it into a smile. She really was trying, on this first call since I’d laid down my ultimatum that she behave like a sane person or she couldn’t see the babies.

“I believe that, though I do not understand it.”

What I wanted to say was,
How sad for you
, but my aunt had never taken well to pity. She didn’t understand it and always saw it as an insult, and she certainly never gave pity to anyone. She was pitiless in the true meaning of the word.

I looked past her to Eamon with his own hand on her shoulder. I was sorry for him, too, and if he had been mine I would have reached up and touched his hand, as I did Doyle’s, but he wasn’t mine to worry over, and he loved Andais utterly. I’d never understood why, but I knew it to be truth.

“You are the Queen of Air and Darkness, my aunt; all fear you. How do I make Taranis fear me?”

“You disfigured him in the dream, Meredith; that did frighten him.”

I tensed, holding tighter to Doyle’s hand, my heels involuntarily digging a little harder into Kitto’s back. “I told you that I used my hand of power on him in the dream, but not what hand of power I used. How did you know that?”

“Darkness is not the only one with spies at the Golden Court, Meredith. Taranis’s sleep is troubled, for he keeps seeing his arm melted and crippled from your magic. If you would do that in reality to someone that he could see, a constant visible reminder, it would be a good start to his fearing you.”

“Are you actually suggesting that I pick some random Seelie sidhe and partially cripple or disfigure him, just as an object lesson to Taranis?”

She nodded.

I saw Eamon’s hand tighten on her shoulder, as if to caution her. She patted his hand absentmindedly but did not hold on to it.

“There is no one I hate that much at the Seelie Court,” I said.

She frowned at me. “It’s not about hate, Meredith, it’s about practicality. You asked how to frighten Taranis; well, I’m telling you how to do that. If you don’t want my help, then do not ask for it; it is most irritating to suggest things and watch you make that face.”

“I wasn’t aware I was making a face, Aunt Andais; I will try to school my expression better from now on.”

“And there you go again, that tone in your voice, never a word out of place, but your tone says, clearly, ‘You are a fucking psycho bitch and I hate you.’”

“I would never say such a thing, Aunt Andais.”

“No, you would never say it, but you think it hard enough.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever said, or even thought, those exact words about you, my aunt.”

“Then what words would you say aloud, if you dared?”

“Are you simply incapable of having a conversation where you don’t threaten me or imply something unpleasant?” I asked.

She startled visibly, and this time she did reach for Eamon’s hand. “I … I hadn’t thought about it, niece of mine. I have spent many centuries where my threat was all that kept me and my court safe. You see what Taranis will do if he does not fear another royal.”

I nodded. “I do understand that. So you’re saying that it’s just habit for you to threaten people?”

She seemed to actually think about it for a moment and then said, “Yes, I believe it is.”

I sighed and squeezed Doyle’s hand. Mistral moved closer to me and laid his hand on my other shoulder. I reached up and took his hand, too. It helped steady me to touch them, though I knew that Mistral did not understand why such casual touch pleased me so; he was the least affectionate of the fathers outside the bedroom, but once he’d accepted that I liked and needed it, he’d tried to do more. I appreciated his efforts and did my best to tell him so.

“That must be very lonely,” Galen said.

We all turned to him slowly, like you do in a horror film, because that was pity and you did not let the queen know you pitied her, ever.

She looked at him, head to one side like a crow about to peck the eye out of a corpse. “What did you say?” Her voice made it plain that she didn’t believe he’d repeat himself, and that he certainly shouldn’t repeat it.

“If people are afraid of you, how do they love you?” he asked.