back to his study, to Three, to a world lacking light.
To Morien the Last.
After the conference with his mother, Morien’s presence was almost a relief. Somhairle sank, shaking, against the plush back of his chair.
You survived. See? You can trust me and pretty much no one else. Three craned her noble head toward Somhairle. The Lying One’s mad as a wet house cat that he can’t sink his claws or his mirrorglass into you.
Not me. Somhairle smiled so he wouldn’t appear dazed or sullen. Morien watched him closely. But how many others?
Inis Fraoch of House Ever-Loyal. Rags the little thief. The missing ex-Queensguard Somhairle hadn’t met.
And, Somhairle suspected, it could be used to ensure loyalty anywhere—not just in masters.
If it had been a point of debate to shard a prince, there was no reason to expect that Lord Faolan of House Ever-Learning would be exempt from this treatment. It was infallible insurance he could never act against the Queen’s desires.
It would either explain everything, or reveal Somhairle’s real weakness to be wishful thinking, not a half-withered body.
Neither is a weakness, actually, Three said. Any weakness can be forged into weaponry.
My mother didn’t want to hear it, Somhairle said. He had to say it to make it real, but he couldn’t trust the words aloud.
Not to Morien, who worked in service of the Queen.
I could’ve told you that, honeyflower. Even as she chided him, there was warmth in Three’s voice.
Somhairle breathed. Tasted metal. Of the Queen’s imperfect children, he was the only one to survive. Catriona would rather kill her own than let Oberon’s curse touch them.
He’d tried to give her the key to freedom from her fears, only to have her slam the cage door in his face.
“Your skill with mirrorcraft is surely unparalleled, Morien.” Strength flowed from Three into Somhairle to steady his shaking. “A pity it takes such a toll on the body.”
Three’s feathers ruffled as she shook her wings out in silent laughter.
“It would be ill-advised to give Her Highness a reason to regret her generosity,” Morien said, in the political tone of voice that meant If I could, I’d flay your skin from your bones.
And also, I might still do that.
Somhairle’s thoughts swirled. Three inspected her talons as a reminder that she had them, and they were sharp as knives. Morien’s scarves remained tucked tightly in place. There was no further chance of seeing beneath them. He reached out, closing red-gloved fingers over his cup of tea, and drank through the red scarf over his mouth.
58
Cab
Sil hadn’t been at full strength after pulling the mirror out of Cab’s chest, and she’d begun to feel faint as they approached the catacombs.
“I’m sorry,” she’d explained with a wan smile ill suited to her childish face. “It’s the iron. We have a natural antipathy to it—as it is the only metal that can kill the fae.”
They were close to the Hill. To that foul room of torture beneath the palace, and the catacombs below that.
“Let me go.” Cab had felt the eyes of every remaining member of the Resistance on him as he knelt before Sil’s small form. “I’ll get whatever you need, then bring it back to you.”
Einan’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “Not without me, you won’t, handsome. And we’ll just be taking a look around. Nothing more.”
She was nice in front of Sil. But when they were alone, she changed her tune.
“If,” she said, “you fuck this up . . . if you give her hope, only to snatch it away, I’ll let Uaine cut you open and use your guts to string me a fiddle.”
Colorful. Threats came with Queensguard training, but they weren’t so imaginative. Civilian cityfolk were about as unpredictable as it got. Cab found it remarkable that the Resistance had grown with such little experience governing their ranks.
They believed in what they were doing. Sometimes that was enough.
And sometimes it earned you death in the Far Glades at the hands of a sorcerer.
“I didn’t know you played,” Cab replied. He knew Einan’s quarrel wasn’t with him so much as what he represented, and that made it easier to bear.
He resented his association with the Queensguard, too.
“I’m a girl of many talents,” Einan said.
Cab considered taking her threat more seriously.
“Sil saved me,” he pointed out. “Hit me on the head first, kidnapped me, tied me up, but saved me. I don’t intend to repay that with betrayal.”
Einan snorted.
Then One mimicked the sound, which made Einan jump. She eyed One the way someone looked