Лорел Гамильтон - A Caress Of Twilight

We ended up with a lot of time on our hands. No, we did not just have sex all day. We pestered Sage. I had paid the price that Queen Niceven asked, but we had no cure. Why hadn't Sage given us the cure last night? Why did Kitto becoming sidhe change everything for Sage? Did he really mean to imply that he needed to have sex with me to effect the cure? Sage didn't want to answer any questions.

He had flown around the apartment trying to escape our questions, but it was a small apartment, even if you were the size of a Barbie doll. Late in the day he launched himself from the windowsill and got a little too near Galen, who batted at him like you'd swat a mosquito. I don't think he meant to strike him.

Sage fell heavily on the floor. He lay very still, a tiny butter-colored thing with his bright wings like a fragile shield. He raised slowly onto one arm before I could finish kneeling by him. "Are you all right?" I asked.

He looked at me with such hatred in those tiny doll eyes that I flinched. He stumbled a little in rising to his feet, but he fanned his wings and caught his balance. He refused the hand I offered him. He stood there, hands on hips, and stared up at us as we towered over him.

"If I die, green knight, the cure dies with me. Best remember that, when you're being careless."

I didn't intend to hurt you," Galen said, but there was something in his eyes that was not kind, not gentle, not Galen. Perhaps, more than just his manhood had been damaged by the demi-fey.

"Too close to a lie, that," Sage said, rising into the air, his butterfly wings a blur. Butterfly wings just didn't work like that. It was more the way a dragonfly moved. When he'd gained height enough to meet Galen's gaze, the wing beats slowed and he hovered, the large wings fanning more slowly but still with enough force to stir the curls around Galen's face.

"I didn't intend to strike you that hard." Galen's voice was low and warm with anger. There was a hardness there that I'd never heard before. Part of me mourned that tone; part of me felt a flare of hope. Perhaps even Galen could learn those harsh lessons that would be needed if he ever became King. Or perhaps he was just learning how to hate. That lesson I would have spared him if I could.

I watched the two men glare at each other, both hating. Sage was still the size of a Barbie doll, but his anger wasn't amusing anymore. That he could elicit such negativity from my smiling Galen was a little frightening.

"All right, boys, play nice now." They both turned and glared at me. So much for breaking the tension. "Fine, be that way, but what did you mean that if you die, the cure dies with you?"

Sage rotated in midair, arms half crossed on his tiny chest as if he couldn't quite cross them and fly at the same time. "I mean, Princess, that Queen Niceven left a present in my body. The healing for your man here is trapped in this tiny package." He spread his arms wide as he said it, almost bowing as he hung, fluttering.

"What does that mean, Sage?" Doyle said. "Exactly what it means, no prevaricating, just the truth, all of it."

He gave another turn in midair so he could look directly at Doyle. Sage could have simply glanced over his shoulder, but I think he wanted Doyle to know he was being looked at. "You want truth, Darkness, all of it?"

"Yes," Doyle said, his thick voice, lower, deeper, not angry, but a tone that had made many a sidhe pale.

Sage laughed, a joyous tinkling sound that nearly drew a smile from me. He was very good at glamour, better than I thought any demi-fey could be. "Oh, you'll be angrier than that when you hear what my dear queen has done."

"Just tell us, Sage," I said. "Quit drawing out the story."

He turned to me, hovered close enough for the breath of his wings to caress my face. "Say please." His tone made it an insult.

Galen tensed, and Rhys laid a hand on his shoulder. I think I wasn't the only one who didn't quite trust Galen around the demi-fey.

"Please," I said. I had a lot of faults, but false pride wasn't one of them. It cost me nothing to say please to the tiny man.

He smiled, obviously happy. "Since you asked nicely." He grabbed his tiny crotch through the filmy skirt he wore. "The cure is trapped here, where Queen Niceven laid it."

I felt my eyes widen.

"How does Meredith retrieve the cure?" Doyle asked. His voice held emptiness, no tone at all.

Sage smiled, and even on a face not much bigger than my thumb, I recognized a leer when I saw it. "The same way the queen gave it to me.

"Niceven is not allowed intercourse with anyone but her husband," Doyle said.

"Ah, but there are exceptions to every rule. You should know that, Darkness, better than most."

Doyle seemed to blush, though through the pure night of his skin, it was hard to be sure. "If Queen Andais knows she has broken her marriage vows, it will go badly for your queen."

"The demi-fey never held to such rules until Andais grew jealous of Niceven's children. Three children she has, three pure-blood demi-fey. Only one belonged to Pol, but Andais chose that match to be permanent. Andais envies Niceven her babes, and all the court knows it."

"I would be careful who I told that to," Rhys said. There was no teasing in his voice, just truth.

Sage brushed it away with his tiny hands. "You requested a cure for your green knight, and there is only one cure for it. She had to lay with me to lay the spell within me. Andais agreed that the green knight must be cured at all costs. She didn't seem too concerned what those costs might be."

I shook my head. "No, no intercourse, not with you."

Sage rose into the air. "Then your green knight stays unmanned."

I shook my head again. "We'll see about that." I felt the first stirrings of anger. I didn't let myself get angry often. In the courts it was an indulgence that only the most powerful could afford. I had never been that powerful. Maybe I still wasn't, but we'd see.

"Doyle, call Queen Niceven. We need to talk." The anger had leaked out into my voice.

Sage came hovering close enough that the wind from his wings fanned my face. "There is no other way, Princess. The cure has been given for this curse, and cannot be given twice."

I glared at him. "I am not every man's meat to feast upon, little man. I am Princess of Flesh, and heir to the Unseelie throne. I do not whore for Niceven."

"Only for Andais," Sage said.

I came very close to swatting him, but I wasn't sure how hard I would have hit, and I didn't want to hurt him that badly, not by accident. No, if I hurt Sage that badly, I wanted it to be on purpose.

"Doyle, contact Niceven, now."

He didn't argue, just went for the bedroom door. I followed him with the others trailing behind. Sage kept talking as we went. "What do you plan to do, Princess? What can you do? Is one night with me such a high price to pay for your green knight's manhood?"

I ignored him.

Niceven was already in the mirror when I entered the bedroom. She wore a black dress today, utterly sheer so that her pale body seemed to gleam through the dark cloth. Discreet touches of black sequins sparkled at neck and sleeve. Her white hair fell loose around her body. The hair fell almost to her tiny ankles, but it was thin, thin and strange looking, almost like it wasn't hair at all. All I could think of was a spider-web blowing in the breeze. Her pale wings framed her like a white curtain. Her three ladies-in-waiting stood behind her chair, but each was clad only in a tiny silken robe, as if they'd been roused from bed. Each robe still matched each set of wings, rose-red, daffodil-yellow, and iris-purple. The hair that flowed loose around their faces was sleep-tousled the way real hair should be.

The white mouse was back at her side complete with bejeweled collar. For Niceven to wear no crown, no jewels, meant she had been in true haste to answer our call.