Darkest Mercy. Melissa Marr
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clinging to. “I can’t,” he admitted. “I can’t leave him. . . . Something’s not right.”
Gabriel snorted. “Lots of things aren’t right. Probably easier to list the things that are right.”
Silently, Niall dipped the cloth into the basin again. He stared at the water, trying to make sense of the feelings that had come over him. His reaction to Irial’s injury seemed too intense. Unpredictable thoughts clouded his mind; he couldn’t follow them from moment to moment with much clarity. Urges to violence pressed against his better judgment. In the couple days since Bananach had stabbed Irial, Niall had gone from angry to positively unhinged. He knew it. He’d felt emotions overwhelm him, but there was something else.
Something is wrong.
“Niall?”
The Dark King shook his head. “I’m not sure what I’ll do if I walk out of this room. I’m coming unraveled . . . without Irial. . . . I can’t do this alone, Gabe. I can’t. I’m not right.”
“You’re grieving. Normal reaction, Niall. You two have . . . issues, but you both knew what you were to each other.”
“Are, not were,” Niall corrected halfheartedly.
Gabriel took the cloth from Niall. “You’re not alone, either. Most of the court is here. The Hunt stands with you. I stand with you.”
When Niall looked up at the massive Hound, Gabriel extended his arms. “Give me a command, Niall. Your words, my orders. Tell me what you need.”
Niall stood. “No one touches Irial without my consent. No one not of our court enters this house unless I summon them. No speaking of his injury to anyone outside the house. Increase the guards on Leslie.”
The Dark King paused as the fear of the only other person he loved being injured by Bananach swelled inside him.
Gabriel nodded, and the Dark King’s orders appeared in ink on Gabriel’s flesh as the words were spoken. “Leslie will be safe,” he promised. Then after a minute, he prompted, “And Bananach? And the ones leaving the court to stand with her?”
The Dark King blinked at Gabriel. “She cannot enter our home, but Irial said we could not kill her without killing Sorcha and, thus, all the rest of us. I will not send forces after her. . . . The others . . . I don’t care what you do to them once we get through this. Not right now. Right now, Irial is what matters.”
A brief frown flashed across Gabriel’s face, but he nodded.
Niall walked over and dimmed the light. “Wake me when the next healer arrives.”
And then he lay down on the floor beside Irial’s bed and closed his eyes.
Chapter 7
As Seth approached the gate, Devlin had one hand raised as if to touch the fabric that divided the two worlds, the veil that now separated the twins.
Seth had spent the past hour thinking while he sought Devlin. He would’ve liked to ponder longer, but time didn’t allow for it. He’d been in Faerie less than a day, but every four hours in Faerie was a full day in the mortal world. That meant he’d been gone two days, and he had no idea what had been happening in the mortal world during that time. Irial had been stabbed, and the Hounds were fighting with Bananach’s allies when he had come to Faerie with Ani, Devlin, and Rabbit. Did they all survive? Is Niall okay? Is Ash safe? Until he went back, he had no answers.
“Have you thought about the consequences?” Seth asked. He felt a loyalty to Faerie, but he was of both worlds. Devlin, however, was not.
He turned to face Seth, but did not speak. The new Shadow King was the oldest male faery, the first, the one Sorcha and Bananach had created. In sealing Faerie, he’d assured that neither of his sister-mothers could kill the other. Asking him to consider the consequences beyond that appeared to perplex him.
“For them”—Seth gestured to the other side of the gate—“now that Faerie is closed?”
It was clear to everyone in Faerie that they were safe now. For that, Seth was grateful. However, he didn’t live solely in Faerie, nor did he intend to do so. If Sorcha could forbid him from leaving Faerie, she would, but he wasn’t going to give up on Aislinn—or abandon his friends.
“They are not my concern.” Devlin let his hand drop toward the sgian dubh he carried. “The good of Faerie is my concern.”
“I’m not here to fight you, Brother.” Seth held his hands up disarmingly. “I will fight Bananach, though.”
Devlin’s frustration was an interesting thing to see. After an eternity of repressing emotions, the new Shadow King was now letting emotions influence him. That, too, was good for Faerie.
“And if Bananach’s death still kills your mother?” Devlin asked. “Why should I let you cross over there, knowing that it could bring disaster on us?”
Seth smiled at his brother. “You cannot keep me here. The terms of her remaking me were that I can return to the mortal world. Even you cannot negate her vow.”
“If they came home, if the other courts returned here . . .”
Faeries giving up power? The arrogance of every faery monarch Seth had met made the idea especially illogical. Seth laughed at the thought of proposing such a thing to any of them. “Do you think that Keenan would give up the Summer Court? That Donia would give up her court? That Niall would become a subject to you or to our mother? Pipe dreams, man.”
“They would be safe here now that Bananach cannot enter.” Devlin didn’t see that he had already become like them, thinking that his idea, his rule, held the answers for the others. The sense of clarity, of surety, was an essential trait in a faery monarch, but his suggestion wasn’t feasible.
Seth shrugged. “Some things are worth more than safety.”
“I cannot speak of what would happen to our . . . to your queen if you died.” Devlin stared through the veil. “I would come with you, but protecting Faerie comes first. I cannot risk Faerie for the mortal world.”
“And I can’t abandon Ash or Niall.”
Devlin paused. “Tell me what you see.”
“Nothing. Over here, I’m mortal. I see nothing until I go back. . . .” Seth bit his lip ring, rolling the ball of it into his mouth as he weighed his thoughts. “I don’t see anything, but I’m worried.. . . Ash is dealing with her court alone. Sorcha was to balance Niall, but now you balance her. What will that mean for him? Irial was stabbed. Gabe was outnumbered. Bananach is murderous and only getting stronger. . . . Nothing there makes me think everything is going to be all right.”
For a few moments, they stood silently at the veil, and then Devlin said, “When you are ready . . .”
Seth stared at him for a moment. He hated the necessity of the words he needed to say—that Devlin needed to hear—but that didn’t change reality. “If . . . you know . . . I die, she’ll need you. She doesn’t like admitting it, but she will.”
Silently, Devlin put his hand on the veil. He didn’t answer the question implicit in Seth’s words, but Seth knew that Devlin had chosen the path he’d taken in order to protect not just Faerie, but also his sisters. Devlin had acted out of love for his family, for his beloved, and for Faerie.
As I do.
Seth put his hand to the veil.
Together, they pushed their fingers through the fabric and parted it. Then Devlin put a hand on Seth’s forearm. “It will not open for you to return unless you call to me to be here also.”
“I know.” Seth stepped into the mortal world, leaving Faerie, leaving his mortality, and becoming once-more-fey. The return of his altered senses made him pause. He didn’t stumble. Much.