A Thief of Nightshade (29 page)

You’ve had free will for a while.”

Aislinn was madder than hell. No, he was madder than that. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time since he was put into this cursed animal body that he’d been this unsettled. He looked up as Given sauntered away from him, a glib happiness in her stride.

Agincourt was a world away from everything else in Avalar. Humans never spoke of it and he’d heard the name on maybe one or two occasions total, which was the second reason he was so reluctant to trust anything about the place. It was something to behold. He’d give it that.

Hidden in the woods, it was nothing like the Winter Court. Everything about this place was natural, more so it seemed than even Galydon. Homes were built not of trees but in them. Music played gaily through the earthen streets as Fae and Shade alike wandered with little care. It was such a startling contrast to Rheavon, where everyone seemed to be hiding something.

Larger than he’d imagined, it stretched out vastly around them. As far as the eyes could see, full of winding passages of unobtrusive majesty. And in the center of it all stood an iridescent masterpiece of a castle. Rising taller than the tallest trees, it towered over Agincourt like a stone sentinel. As they walked toward it, Aislinn couldn’t help but to notice the vast number of smaller animals that had found solace among Agincourt’s citizens. Even the smallest creatures roamed freely about, butterflies and bumblebees and all manner of dragonflies.

Suddenly, it dawned on him. Lipsey!

“We’ve got to go back,” he groaned, torn between knowing how desperately important it was to get to Aubrey, yet not wanting to forsake the only friend he’d really had in ten years. “Lipsey—”

Given turned around and gave him the most achingly beautiful smile, tinged in just the scantest trace of sadness. “He’s here. I found him when I had to leave you in Koldavere.”

He sighed in relief and was about to say something else, albeit sarcastically, when he noticed the tears on Given’s face.

How had he missed them before?

Because you weren’t looking, you jerk.

They came to the foot of a tremendous staircase that was easily more than a hundred feet wide. Luckily, it was only half that high. Two slight female Fae bowed low before Given and gave a short nod to Aislinn. “Princess, we are yours to command. Do you or your guest need anything?”

He marveled at this. They could see him for what he was. Why did they act kindly toward him?

“Would you show us to my uncle, please?” Given asked.

They rushed to do as she’d requested, though not out of fear or duty.

They seemed to want to help.

Aislinn hadn’t been in his own home in far too long, and after just a short while he felt dizzy with the constant deluge of guards and even more attendants. It was making his head hurt. Finally, they came to Oberon’s chambers.

The doors opened into a small seating area and Given ran in ahead of Aislinn, throwing her arms around an elderly Fae with graying hair and a kind smile that spread widely on an aging but pleasant face. His wings shimmered behind him, translucent silver. He’d had all sorts of ideas of what Oberon would look like, and judging by his sister’s chosen appearance, Aislinn had guessed that Oberon would look just as youthful.

He’d once again been wrong.

“Aislinn this is Oberon, Faerie King of Agincourt.” She turned to Oberon.

“Uncle, this is Prince Aislinn of the royal house of Rowan.”

Aislinn knew what was expected of him but he didn’t care if the guy looked as harmless and humble as a slug, he wasn’t about to kneel before any Fae King.

Oberon granted him a gracious smile.

“Were it within my power to undo the spell my sister has placed on you, young Prince, know that I would. Though I would never wish these circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m not a prince, Oberon,” Aislinn ground out. “I haven’t been a prince for a very long time, but thanks for the notion.

Where’s Aubrey?”

Ian, who was really starting to get on Aislinn’s nerves, stepped out from nowhere and came up next to the King and faced Aislinn. “You ungrateful creature.

Can you not...”

Oberon merely lifted his hand and Ian immediately closed his mouth. “Ian, perhaps your time would be better spent fetching our newest little friend from my study?”

Ian scowled at Aislinn, though not where Oberon could have seen it. “Yes, your Highness.” He turned and started to walk to the door at the back of the room, but stopped once he reached Given. A dark and hateful look swept over Ian’s face as he brushed Given’s cheek with his palm; Aislinn knew exactly what he was thinking. Ian glared at Aislinn for a long, tense moment before he squeezed Given’s hand and left the room.

“Come. Aubrielle is over here.”

Oberon ushered Aislinn across the room and through a doorway to where a canopy bed sat draped in bright and colorful fabrics that seemed to glow with the light that flooded in from the high glass ceiling.

Aubrey’s face was still, devoid of emotion. As he neared her, he still could not detect her breathing and, though it hadn’t changed from when they were in Koldavere, it frightened him.

“She is barely breathing.” He looked at Oberon, feeling slightly stupid for leaning on the Fae’s word as truth.

“She was pulled into a soul portal,”

Oberon said. “Not an easy bond to break.

And in doing so you risk permanently severing the tie between mind and body.”

Given’s face fell. “You mean she may not wake up even if we pull her out of this?” Her voice hitched slightly at the last word and Aislinn could tell she was suffering through another wave of pain.

Aubrey’s pain.

Oberon gazed at Given for a long moment, clearly crushed by the fear and despair in her tone. “My child, I will do everything in Agincourt’s power. But,” he shook his head, “Saralia has her hand in this. This portal is not entirely of Cedrick’s making.”

“Morrigan,” Given breathed. “Is he there?”

Oberon looked away. “I cannot say.”

“Yes, he’s there. He pulled Aubrey from my grasp when I went in after her,”

Aislinn growled at Given. “What do you know of Morrigan?” He recalled too late that she’d already told him she was raised in the Winter Court.

Given coolly stepped up to Aislinn and looked him dead in the face. “What do I know of Morrigan? I know the sharp edge of a blade and how he used it to try and cut my heart out at my mother’s behest. He would have sent a thousand Sidhe after me had it not been Oberon himself who’d saved my life. I’m shocked Morrigan is still alive after revealing to my mother that it was a pig’s heart she was handed so long ago.”

Aislinn felt like an ass—again. He’d thought he eventually would get used to it and perhaps he had, but everything with Given was so different from anything he’d ever experienced. Seeing her pale skin flush in anger, instead of leaving him feeling appropriately wretched—as she’d no doubt intended, made him remember the feel of her body against his and the searing heat of her kiss.

Oberon broke the unwieldy silence that ensued. “I will enter the portal but I mustn’t do so as myself if we are to avoid war with Saralia. I need the guise of someone Aubrielle trusts.”

Definitely not her father, Aislinn thought bitterly. “Morrigan has already claimed her youngest brother’s form and who knows who else Saralia has sent for good measure if she isn’t there herself.

Grant, her elder brother may be the best option. Let us hope Aubrey hasn’t already seen him.”

Oberon nodded slowly. “You have the Oran? It will tell me what I need to know of his relationship with her, what she needs to hear from him.”

Aislinn hadn’t said anything about it.

He looked at Given. “You told them?”

“It was the only way I could convince them to rescue the two of you from Koldavere. You must trust him, Aislinn. What other choice do you have?”

He reluctantly handed it over. It hadn’t been easy to keep it out of sight considering that he had lacked pockets for most of his journey here. He’d tucked it into the metal of his new appendage.

Oberon took the Oran and held his left hand over it, whispering in the old language. The dragonfly flickered to life with a rosy glow. After a few moments, the light grew and covered the Fae King, brightening until Aislinn had to shield his eyes. When it finally faded, Oberon stood before them as Grant, a changed look in his eyes and Aislinn knew then that he’d seen everything Aubrey and Jullian had already been through. He fastened the Oran around his neck, tucking it into his shirt. “I will give this back when I return, Aislinn.”

Oberon leaned down and hugged Given, kissing her on the cheek. “My precious little girl, so grown up.” He touched the plate of armor on her arm.

“For all the grief I’ve given you, know that I am proud of who you’ve become. I love you.”

“Be careful,” she whispered. “I love you too.”

Oberon

touched

her

face

affectionately one last time before turning his back to them and disappearing.

Aislinn looked dumbly at the empty space where Oberon had just been. He’d only seen that kind of power in Tabor and Saralia. Even the goblins and their King relied on the Fae queen’s magic to do their bidding. He heard a sniffle and looked over to see Given wipe her eyes.

“He’ll come back,” Aislinn said gently.

She glared at him, her eyes red and puffy still from crying earlier. “You think that’s all that weighs on my heart? Even if we win, I will lose everything. Yet, I would sacrifice my own life if it would bring Avalar back from where she lingers on the edge of death. Do you know what’s happened to her? To Avalar? Or have you been so self-centered these past ten years that you’ve missed it? The forests are fading, Aislinn, along with the magic that weaves all of us together, whether we like it or not. The blood magic Saralia wields hasn’t lost its hold; it’s now tethered to Avalar eternally. There is no grip to weaken. Tabor knows this, as does Oberon. They both fear what is to come and nothing in our world can save us. My uncle has all but given up hope. When I heard that the Prince’s love had strength enough to cross over, I knew Aubrey was Avalar’s only chance and I’ll be damned before I let your cruelty or my own fears keep me from doing what I must to help her defeat Saralia. But I don’t have to put up with your cruelty. I’ve been yelled at, hit, kicked and abused long enough. I wasn’t saved from it so I could tolerate it from you.”

Aislinn swallowed hard. Truth is, he hadn’t noticed that Avalar was suffering.

In fact, he’d thought the opposite of Avalar, just like she’d said. “Given, I—”

“Leave me alone,” she said. “You’ve done enough.”

He didn’t try to stop Given when she turned to leave him alone with Aubrey— he was too ashamed.

AUBREY HEARD FOOTSTEPS ON THE

STAIRS
and felt someone behind her. “I just want to be alone right now,” she said, not caring much who it was or how they’d feel about her curt tone.

“Even if I promise to just stand here quietly?” Hands came down on her shoulders, the right one with the distinctive weight of Grant’s class ring.

Somehow, this small thing dissolved her numbness. She turned to see him smiling down at her.

“Grant, what are you doing here?”

This surprised her. Grant had never liked Sam.

“Walk with me.” He draped his arm around her, guiding her away from the wood line and around the side of the house.

She silently agreed, grateful to have an excuse to leave. They walked without conversation for a good ten minutes or so.

When she shivered against the sudden chill in the night air, he pulled off his coat and gave it to her, pulling it snug before returning his arm to her shoulder.

“You miss him,” Grant said. It wasn’t a question.

She nodded. “He respected you deeply. I don’t know if he ever told you that or not. You think he favored Harry over you but that wasn’t it. He saw Ai...”

Suddenly it dawned on Aubrey that she wasn’t sure if Jullian really had a brother or not. He’d never said anything about him that she could recall. What if it had all been in her head?

“What is it?” Grant asked.

“I don’t know. It’s nothing.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He smiled with tenderness in his eyes that she hadn’t seen since before Jullian’s death.

Grant had been so crushed. Just before the graveside service she’d overheard Grant telling a family friend that he felt responsible—that he should have stayed with him that morning.

“Harry reminded Jullian of his brother. But, I don’t know if he had a brother or if I imagined it. I know that must not make sense, but I—”

“Aislinn.”

Grant

squeezed

her

shoulder. “His younger brother’s name is Aislinn, right?”

Aubrey felt a knot forming in her stomach. “How did—”

“I know more about Jullian than you think I do.”