walking through the soft sand toward the stairs. I was very sorry that I'd worn high heels today, and I didn't protest when Frost offered me his arm. "Actually we do what?" I asked.
"We have all day. We have all eternity. The dead aren't going anywhere."
I glanced at him. He was watching the tall detective with a sort of faraway, almost dreamy look on his face. "You know what, Rhys?"
He looked at me, raising one eyebrow.
"Lucy's right. You're creepy at a murder scene."
He grinned again. "Not nearly as creepy as I could be."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Rhys wouldn't answer. He just started walking ahead of us in his lower-heeled shoes. I looked up at Frost. "What did he mean by that?"
"Rhys was once called the Lord of Relics."
"And that means what?" I asked, nearly stumbling in the heels, holding tighter to his arm.
"Relics is an old poetic word. It means corpse."
I stopped him with my hands on his arm and stared up at him. I tried to see his eyes through a tangle of his silver hair and my own red fluttering across my face. "When a sidhe is called a lord of anything, it means they have power over it. So you're saying what? That Rhys can cause death? I knew that."
"No, Meredith, I am saying that he could at one point raise the old dead, those that had grown stiff and cold, to rise and fight on our side in battle."
I just stared at him. "I didn't know Rhys had that kind of power."
"He no longer does. When the Nameless was created, Rhys lost the power to raise armies of the dead. We had no more use for armies among ourselves, and to fight the humans in such a way would have meant our expulsion from this country." Frost hesitated, then said, "Many of us lost our most otherworldly powers when the Nameless was cast. But I do not know of any who lost so much as Rhys."
I watched Rhys walking ahead of us, his white curls blowing in the wind to mingle with the white of his coat. He had gone from being a god who could raise armies at his will, to being... Rhys. "Is that why he won't tell me his real name, the name he was worshipped under?"
"When he lost his powers, he took the name Rhys and said that the other was dead along with his magic. Everyone, including the queen, has always respected that. It could so easily have been any one of us who gave the most of ourselves to the spell."
I balanced on one foot while I slipped off the heels. My stocking feet would do for the sand. "How did you get everyone to agree to the Nameless?"
"Those in power decreed death for any who opposed it."
I should have guessed. I transferred my shoes to one hand and slipped my other hand back on Frost's arm. "I mean, how did Andais get Taranis to agree?"
"That is a secret only the queen and Taranis know." He touched my hair, smoothing it back from my face. "Unlike Rhys, I do not like being around so much death and sadness. I look forward to tonight."
I turned my face and kissed his palm. "Me, too."
"Merry!" Lucy Tate screamed at me from the top of the steps. Rhys was almost even with her. Lucy walked out of sight, with Rhys almost but not quite chasing her. If you could call it chasing at a casual walk.
I tugged on Frost's arm. "We had better hurry."
"Yes," Frost said. "I do not trust Rhys's sense of humor alone with the detective."
We exchanged a glance on the windy beach, then we began to hurry toward the steps. I think we were both hoping to get there before Rhys did something cute and unfortunate. I, for one, didn't believe we'd make it in time.
Chapter 22
Some of the bodies were in body bags, plastic cocoons from which nothing would wake. But they'd run out of body bags and just started laying the uncovered bodies out. I could not count at a glance how many there were. More than fifty. Maybe a hundred, maybe more. I couldn't bring myself to start counting, to make them just things in a row, so I stopped trying to estimate. I tried to stop thinking at all.
I tried to pretend that I was back at court and this was one of the queen's "entertainments." You never dared show distaste, disgust, horror, or least of all