Melissa Marr - Fragile Eternity

“She’s upset,” Seth said.

“What?”

Seth explained the counting and added, “Like music. Her song is not as it always is.” He glanced at Niall. “You unsettle her.”

Niall’s gaze went to the doorway through which Sorcha had left. The flickering dancers surged forward as if they would step from his eyes to pursue the High Queen. “It’s a natural antipathy.”

“Perhaps she would be pleased by your attention. If it would please her, maybe—”

“I don’t know if you realize it or not, but your sudden devotion to her is creepy.” Niall shook his head.

Seth bit his lip ring, thinking the words over before he answered. “My closest friend rules the court of nightmares. My girlfriend is the embodiment of a season . I’m not sure you can really call this ‘creepy.’ Sorcha makes me feel peaceful. I like it.”

“There are going to be consequences.”

“I made the right choice. This is what I want.”

Niall shook his head. “Let’s hope you’re still saying that later.”

Seth walked over to the window that led to his garden. He pushed it open. “Come on.”

When Niall followed, Seth resumed speaking. “I find a different sort of peace in Sorcha’s court. It’s taken years of meditation to reach the calm I had before, and it felt like it was going to slip away every time I saw Keenan’s influence growing stronger…but in one moment, one promise, complete peace. One month a year with her and I can have everything I need. Out there, I will be as you used to be—with faery weaknesses and faery strengths. I can be with Ash forever. I can be there for you forever. Don’t you see? It’s perfect.”

“Except for the month here. Just come with me. I took you into my court’s protection and…my court is the one that balances hers. We can take you home now.”

“I am home, Niall. Aside from missing Ash—” Seth stopped himself. “Why do you know I’m here but she doesn’t?”

“Seth…” Niall dropped his gaze.

“What?”

“Keenan hasn’t told her. He knows. Everyone knows.”

“Except her.” Seth swallowed the words of anger and fear that rose up. Panic wasn’t the answer. He was in Faerie; he had peace; and he’d have forever with Aislinn. “Why?”

“Come home with me,” Niall repeated. “We can go to her.”

“Keenan is taking advantage of my absence.” Seth said the truth that Niall was avoiding. “ Already ? I’ve only been here a few days. Thirty days without me isn’t going to change everything.”

Devlin appeared in the path in front of them. “Tread carefully, Niall. Sorcha will not be pleased if you say what you would reveal.” To Seth, Devlin said, “Sorcha requires that you do not pursue this matter.”

And just like that, Seth was unable to continue the conversation. “I believe we need to talk about something else.”

“Is that what you want ? Give me the word…” Niall glared at Devlin. “Think, Seth. If you choose to, you can resist her wishes. It’s harder with her. Harder in Faerie, but I know you can—”

“She’s my queen, Niall. I want what she wants. She gave me the world.”

“Do you have any idea how disturbing you are?” Niall’s expression was raw. “You’re my friend , Seth, and you’re vacant.”

“I’m not vacant. I’m just”—Seth shrugged—“at peace.”

“I think I should go.”

“It would be best. I have work yet, and she is oddly possessive of my attention. There’s a door you can use.” Seth gestured toward a thorn-hidden doorway in the distance, one of the openings from Sorcha’s demesne into the mortal world.

“Be safe.”

“I am. I’m happy here. She knows things. Everything makes so much more sense when she explains it.” He let his thoughts wander to the late-night conversations they’d been having in the garden. Philosophy, religion, so many things were clear when he spoke to his queen. Then—brimming with art and passion and epiphanies—he’d return to the studio she’d given him and create until he could barely stay upright.

“Later, once you’re away from Sorcha, we need to talk. Come see me when you are home? You are coming home, right?”

“I am coming back. Aislinn is on the other side of the veil.” Seth reached out to clasp Niall’s forearm. “But I will only discuss what Sorcha permits. Even when I am not here, I’ll honor my vows to my queen.”

“I’ll see you when you come home—and are yourself again.” Niall turned away.

Seth walked a few moments longer, and then he returned to his art. A little more than two of his four weeks were over in Faerie. Soon he’d be able to see Aislinn.

More than four months had passed since Seth left. There were no calls or messages from him, nor was there any news from Niall. Skirmishes between Summer and Winter Court faeries happened more and more. Dark Court faeries attacked the increasingly vulnerable Summer Court fey, who were weakened by Aislinn’s inability to move forward. Choosing to be happy was far easier to say than to do. She and Keenan were in a stasis of sorts, and their court was suffering for it. They sat side by side in the study as guards shared reports from around Huntsdale and beyond. It wasn’t a new event, but the tone was worse yet again.

“The Ly Ergs grow bolder every day,” a glaistig reported. She was not as disappointed by this as most Summer Court faeries would be, but the glaistigs were mercenaries. The hooved faeries roamed all of the courts, hiring on for trouble at times, living as solitaries at other points.

Keenan nodded.

Aislinn felt her court face lock into place, a mask to hide her worry.

Beside her, Keenan squeezed her hand. Sunlight slipped from his palm to hers. Comfort but not enough. He let her stay quiet as guards reported troubles, as if she were fragile. I am. She felt like that some days, that she was nothing more than spun glass that would shatter if she moved the wrong way.

Then Quinn spoke. “When Bananach was out and about, the guards looked in her nest. There’s no evidence that Seth was ever there.”

“What?” Aislinn’s slight grasp on calmness fled. Hearing Seth’s name so casually tied to Bananach’s was bone chilling.

Keenan held tighter to her hand; he was an anchor tethering her to some semblance of stability. “Quinn—”

“No evidence?” Aislinn tried to keep her voice steady, and failed. “What do you mean?”

Quinn’s posture didn’t shift. He stayed focused on her although the other guards shifted anxiously. “She’s the carrion crow, my Queen. If she’d killed him, there would be evidence. Neither blood nor bone there is his—”

“Enough,” Keenan snarled. He kept her hand in his and pulled her closer to him.

Aislinn felt as much as saw a shimmer of fog uncoiling in the room. “No. I want to know.” She looked over and caught Keenan’s gaze. “I need to know.”

“I can deal with this, Ash,” Keenan spoke in a low voice, feigning privacy. “You don’t need to hear if there’s…unpleasantness.”

“I need to,” she repeated.

He stared at her silently for several breaths before saying, “Continue.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “There were strange things. A shirt of yours”—he paused as he stumbled over the words and glanced at Keenan—“hers, our queen. A bit of the pet serpent’s shed skin. A book of Seth’s.”

“Why would she have any of that?” Aislinn had begun to accept that he’d simply left her. Now, with Seth’s things at Bananach’s nest, she wondered if she’d been completely wrong.

Keenan looked at the guards, at Quinn. The Summer King was angry. “Leave us.”