Reluctant Adept: Book Three of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (46 page)

The previous words disappeared from the tablet and renewed script flowed across the stone, replacing it. 'His cousin. Yes. She will be questioned. Brassal will decide her fate. Why? Do you wish to be consulted?'

When I glanced up at him, his arch look told me that last bit wasn't exactly a sincere offer.

I snorted. "Right."

'Is the idea so absurd?'

I frowned at him, studying his cool expression. "What idea? That I might have an opinion regarding the girl's punishment? Or the idea that my opinion might be taken into account?"

'Both.'

I stared at him. "You're serious."

He raised his eyebrows, giving me an impatient look.

"The idea is absurd because you think humans are vermin. And in case you haven't noticed—
I'm human
."

He smiled wryly, tilting his head toward the tablet where he'd written: 'This, I have noticed. Do you believe yourself a mind reader too?'

Huh?

"I'm a clairvoyant, not a telepath."

'Yet, with considerable arrogance, you profess to know what I am thinking,' he wrote. 'I do not think humans are vermin. Vermin are small furry mammals, are they not? Humans are larger, bipedal, and lack fur. They are also more intelligent, resourceful, destructive, and greedy.'

I gave him a disparaging look. "The statement wasn't meant to be taken literally. You put humans on the same level as rats or cockroaches. We should all be exterminated. Isn't that your party line?"

'I would cull the numbers of
any
species that voraciously devours and pollutes Thìr na Étail, our treasured sylvan haven, especially a species unchecked by a rampant birthrate. For a race that prides itself on its intelligence and superiority above all other species on
their
Earth, humans are remarkably short-sighted and witless. Except, perhaps, for some of your native peoples who revered Thìr na Étail and respected its natural resources. Do you have any idea how many species have gone extinct due to humankind's unchecked expansion and insatiable pursuit of wealth? When I was a boy, the land you humans call England was covered by vast forests, so too was Western Europe and great swaths of the Americas. And, now, with the sidhe's culling curtailed by the Compact, the deforestation and destruction of species continues unabated. Or do you dare to dispute this?'

For long seconds, I stared at him while trying to formulate some sort of intelligent rebuttal that didn't come down to:
Killing humans is wrong because I'm human and we're not all greedy assholes, and, by the way, you're a murdering bastard.

I blew out an exasperated breath. "Okay, yes, as a species we're not without our faults, but not all of us are insatiable, selfish jerks with zero scruples. Most of us cherish our environment and other living things. We care about sustainability and do what we can not to pollute. Some more than others. But like all living things, we consume to survive. Just like you guys. Hello! That's what living organisms do. We all strive for survival."

I glared at him, gripping the tablet hard enough to hurt my fingers. "What gives you the right to kill us indiscriminately for doing what any successful species does? I mean—
Jesus!
—look at
you
, Mr. High and Mighty, King of the Sidhe. You kill and torture and kidnap to stay in power. It's not like you're in much of a position to criticize." I stopped short of calling him an asshole, but it was a near thing.

Hoo-boy
. If a steely-eyed stare could kill, I'd have been one big char mark at the bottom of a smoldering crater.

My tablet split in two with a resounding
thwack
, startling the hell out of me, but before I could lose my grip, stone flowed across the gap, restoring the pristine tile.

'I see your insolence is not solely reserved for the high steward.' If King Faonaín's death-ray glare and the broken tablet weren't enough of a tell, his excessively raised, embossed script sealed the deal. The words almost leapt off the stone to slap me in the face.

"I speak my mind. If you're looking for an adept who just says the things you want to hear, then keep looking."

When his ruthless frown deepened and the ground rocked beneath my feet, I hesitated but then thought,
Screw it
, heedless to the yellow flag of caution Tíereachán launched into my thoughts.

"You know what? Since you're probably already thinking of ways to torture me until I fall down and kiss your feet, I'm gonna go for broke. I mean, I've got nothing to lose at this point, right?"

Ignoring anything he might have embossed on the tablet, I leaned closer, resting my forearms on my knees, and gave him a direct glare. "Eliminating dissent and surrounding yourself with people who are afraid to tell you when you're being an asshole isn't going to create a healthy, lasting society. It
is
a great recipe for a dictatorship, though. People will follow you, not because they respect you but because they're too afraid to do anything else."

Shrugging, I leaned back. "I don't know. Could be I've misread the situation. Maybe, in spite of directing the systematic torture of my friend and murdering God knows how many humans, you're actually a great guy who instills loyalty and honor among his people. Although, I have to say, if that's the case, your own daughter sure missed the memo on that."

As the ground trembled and stone flowed around me, plunging me into darkness, Tíereachán's alarm reached a fever pitch. But he needn't have worried. I had King Faonaín's number. While I'd been giving him a piece of my mind, I'd scoured the Between and found his resonant string. I stood up, seized the king's body, sidestepped him to stand in front of me, and then enclosed us within my protective barrier, all within a matter of a second.

I shouted at him in the stifling darkness, our bodies, now, a scant three inches apart, "You know, my life would be a lot less complicated if you weren't such a dick!"

The walls that had flowed to encase us cracked and groaned, but with the king standing so close, he'd be forced to partake in whatever he dished out.

I hadn't restrained him though. With an inarticulate growl, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me until I ran up against the wall of my bubble. Shaking my shoulders roughly, he repeated the same growl, and I realized he was trying to speak. Lorcán must have left some of his tongue behind, enough for me to eventually parse out his demand, which he repeated over and over with each subsequent shake of my shoulders.

"Why?" I uttered, finally understanding the word, my breath coming short as my heart pounded a frantic rhythm in my ears. I strained to see him through the impenetrable blackness. "Why what?"

After more inarticulate grunts that I failed to understand, he pressed his forehead to mine and exhaled a frustrated breath that heated my neck and chest, eliciting my shiver.

Relaxing his grip, so it wasn't quite so painful, he tried again.

He repeated the first word: "Why."

It took two tries, but I got the next one.

When I echoed, "Did," he rubbed his sweaty forehead against mine and grunted his ascent.

Again for the next. "You."

"Save."

"Me."

He sighed and rubbed his hands over my upper arms where he'd held me. In spite of his missing fingers, I'd probably have bruises springing up by morning.

"Why did I save you?" I sucked in a steady breath before releasing it into the darkness. "Because no matter what you'd done to deserve it, torture is just plain
wrong
. It's depraved and evil and everything I am
not
. And if I turned my back and left you there to suffer for who knows how long, I'd have been as evil as them, as evil as Azazel." I was surprised as tears jumped to my throat, watering down my voice, but I continued anyway. "I don't understand it. How can you be the way you are? How can you torture someone and still live with yourself? Vince sold his soul to a demon because of you!" In lieu of strangling him, I squeezed the stone tablet, which I only then realized I hadn't dropped. "I just. Don't.
Get it
. What is wrong with you people?"

Our dark enclosure wasn't so dark anymore. The rock beneath our feet and that of my tablet, the remaining stone inside my barrier that the king could command, radiated a subtle glow, brightening the inside of our tomb just enough to see each other. The king stepped back. Reaching out with his remaining index finger, he tipped the stone tablet away from my body so I could squint at his embossed words.

'I do whatever I have to do, for the sake of my people—for their continued survival. I am the only power that stands between them and a life of undue hardship. We are, all of us, but one faltering step away from a forced decampment to our world's inhospitable surface. Our portals are fading. Our access to magic is a whisper of what it once was.

'Your unfortunate friend provided a means for us to learn about Maeve's planned insurgency. Information regarding your loved ones was needed in order to foil the enemy's plans to use them to force your compliance. He withheld this information, not solely for your benefit, as he professed, but for Maeve's.

'I am not proud of the necessity of what was done to him, yet I will not apologize for it. I do not revel in torture, as you have come to believe. I do not rule by fiat. I do not surround myself with individuals who cannot speak their minds, although I understand how you arrived at these conclusions. I am not kind. I am ruthless. Perhaps that makes me evil by your reckoning, but you will soon learn there are others who are far more
fiendish
in their pursuits than I.'

I shivered at the words. "Yeah. Steward Sociopath delivered that message loud and clear, and he didn't even have to open his darn mouth."

'And he is not alone. My traitorous daughter was right about one thing: From this day hence, you will be relentlessly pursued. I made it clear that you have my protection, but you will find no respite from those who seek to possess you, unless you strengthen the crown by binding your soul to mine.'

I jerked my startled and no doubt horrified gaze upward to find him peering at me, a look of sympathy playing over his grimly set features. He grunted something under his breath, his own eyes rounding with surprise, before his expression turned almost wistful. He shook his head, looking amused if not sheepish, and then poked the tablet.

'If I needed yet another reminder that you are not part of our world, your genuine, unscripted reaction to my proposal would serve. I cannot recall the last time a woman has looked at me in such a manner at the mere suggestion of intimacy.'

Tíereachán broke into my thoughts,
Do not dismiss him out of hand, mionngáel. Now that you possess the collar, he has even more reason to protect you. And he isn't wrong. Binding yourself to him, you would gain more power and stature than you can imagine. His people would prosper and rally behind you. With you as his mate, tempering his stance on humans, the both of you could reunite our people. You would be revered for all time. The remaining naysayers would not have the power to stand against you, especially with my mother's endorsement.

What the—?
I'd gotten the impression that Tíereachán was attracted to me, at least a little. But maybe 'a little' was the key phrase.

Are you insane?
I gasped at the notion.
No. I can't. I won't. I don't—
I shook my head.
It's ridiculous.

We are a dying race, Lire. You could change that.

I closed my eyes, desperately fending off the words in my head. I pressed the stone tablet to my forehead. "Tíer, no. Just stop!"

Keep an open mind
, he said.
That's all I'm asking.

After a minute of me trying to fuse my head with the tablet, King Faonaín cleared his throat and then tapped on the opposite side of the tile.

When I lowered it, he looked at me with some amusement as he, once again, pulled the stone away from my body with his finger so I could read it.

'What does my nephew tell you that is so provoking? Does he tell you to kill me? You could, you know. Put the kingdom in the hands of his mother. This would surely lead to another bloody civil war. Without me, the conservative houses will not fall in line. Our already declining population would diminish further.'

"No! Just— " I uttered an indelicate grunt of frustration. "Shit. Just stop, okay? He's not telling me to kill you. Christ. He's your nephew, for God's sake. He doesn't want you dead. He cares about you." I pressed my lips together and then grumbled, "Although, I can't imagine why."

I had to get away from here, go back home, get my head screwed on straight. These people were making me crazy.

It fits the prophecy,
Tíereachán pointed out.

I sent him the visual of me pinching his ear.
I can't believe you're encouraging me to bond with him. A virtual stranger. A mass murderer. A guy I don't love, much less respect!

'Yet not magic nor power but benevolence of heart shall bind the One to the crown and a mate unfettered, the ruler who will rise from duplicity to reunite our people.' Lire, it makes perfect sense. You are Anóen. You are meant to be our queen. The timing is right. With you mated to our king, our people will reunite under your joint rule.

"That's enough!" I growled.

I slapped a hand over my face and muttered, "Nice. Now, I'm yelling at no one." I glared at the ceiling. "Keep this up and everyone's going to think I'm a lunatic. Yeah, the perfect queen. I should start screaming, 'Off with his head!' too, for good measure," I exclaimed.

I guess the king had gotten his fill of crazy talk. He huffed and shoved the tablet under my nose.

'Is this true? Tíereachán endorses me?'

"Argh!" I growled, then huffed, "You see what this has driven me to? I sound like a freaking pirate. That's it. I'm out. You can get yourself back up top on your own, right?"

I dropped my barrier but before I could sidestep away, he caught my wrist. "Aaa," he ground out and then grimaced, issuing an aggravated grunt.