Seanan McGuire - Ashes of Honor

Chelsea frowned. “So how do we fix that?”

Here it was. “I take the human out of you.”

“You can do that?” Her eyes widened. “Can you put it back if I change my mind?”

“No. Once it’s done, it’s done forever, but you won’t be dangerous anymore. You’ll be able to learn to control your powers. You’ll have a normal life.” A life that would last for centuries, if not millennia.

Chelsea bit her lip. Then, marginally, she nodded.

I didn’t let myself look up. I didn’t want to see the look on Etienne’s face as I turned her hand so that her palm was facing toward the ceiling and ran the edge of my blade—clean, thanks to someone’s efforts while I was asleep, and keen-edged enough to slice through skin without a hitch—across the center of it. Blood welled up immediately, scenting the air with its presence.

I repeated the process with my own hand before sheathing my knife again. Raising my hand to my lips, I got a mouthful of blood. Then I bent, and pressed my mouth against the cut on Chelsea’s hand in a parody of a kiss.

My magic rose around us in a heavy cloud, the smell of copper all but overwhelming the smell of fresh-cut grass. There was a momentary pause as Chelsea’s body tried to figure out what happening.

Then Chelsea screamed like she was being murdered and tried to jerk her hand away.

Etienne was abruptly there, holding her in place. “No, Chelsea, shh, it’s all right, honey, you have to be still. Let October work. It will be over soon. Let her work.”

Chelsea screamed again. I did my best to shut her out and focus on what I was doing: reaching for the tangled threads of humanity that wound through her and pulling them free, one by one. I patched the holes with Tuatha de Dannan, expanding the other part of her heritage until it was all she had. She was still screaming, her voice growing hoarse, and I was getting lost in the dark tangles of her self, the places where human and fae collided and made her something unique in all of Faerie.

Somewhere in her was the answer to what made some changelings too powerful to live; the key to that strange, unavoidable quirk of biology. But I didn’t know what to look for, and so I wiped it away, along with everything else that made her human. I wiped it all away.

When I straightened up, Chelsea was slumped against her father, unconscious. I hadn’t even noticed when she stopped screaming. The world around me spun. What I’d done with Gillian hadn’t taken half as much power. She’d been less than a quarter fae. Chelsea, on the other hand, was the real deal, half and half. I felt like something had been ripped out of me in the process of changing her.

“Thank you,” whispered Etienne.

“Any…time…” I said, through numb lips. Then I fell backward and was only distantly aware of Tybalt’s arms coming up to catch me as the darkness closed in again.

I woke up back in the white velvet room. Li Qin was gone, as were Quentin and May. In their place were Etienne, kneeling next to the couch where Chelsea was sprawled, and Sylvester, standing off to one side and watching the scene with an unreadable expression on his face. Only Tybalt remained the same. His leg was the pillow my head was resting on.

Sylvester smiled a little when my eyes opened. “Welcome back to the land of the living, my dear. In more ways than one.”

“Annwn is not a good tourist destination. Just an FYI.” I struggled to sit up. Tybalt put a hand under my back, supporting me. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago. Your King of Cats thought I might want to be here and came to fetch me.” Sylvester seemed amused by this.

I considered telling him Tybalt wasn’t my King of Cats but decided it wasn’t worth the fight—and besides, that might not be true anymore. Instead, I focused on the important question. “How’s Chelsea?”

“Asleep while she recovers. Jin has been in and out since you both blacked out. It’s impressive, the language she uses when she feels that you’ve been risking your life needlessly.” Sylvester’s smile died. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Etienne asked me not to.”

“Since when does he command you? You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

“Don’t split hairs with me, October.”

“I gave him my word. He was worried about his daughter. He didn’t mean to get me hurt.” I bit my lip. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I can’t help being angry and disappointed. And yet…” Sylvester looked toward Etienne. To his credit, Etienne raised his head and met his liege’s eyes without flinching. “I suppose I would have done the same in his position, and he’s been more than suitably chastened. Still, I will miss his talents for the next year or so.”

“The next—oh, oak and ash.” I grimaced. “The power dampener.”

“In the chaos, no one thought to use the antidote,” said Etienne. His voice was calm. “What is a year, compared to a daughter? A price gladly paid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Etienne reached over and brushed a lock of Chelsea’s hair away from her face. Her cheekbones were more pronounced than they’d been before, and her ears were more pointed. The color of her hair hadn’t changed, but I was willing to bet she wouldn’t be able to hide her eyes behind tinted glasses anymore. “I’ve gained more than I could have dreamed.”

“About that…” I took a breath. “Bridget still knows about Faerie. You’re going to have to deal with her. And the fact that she really did lose her daughter when you came back into her life. There’s no way Chelsea’s going back to the mortal world now.”

“I know.” Etienne looked up. “Will you come with me? She knows you.”

“If by ‘knows’ you mean ‘tried to hit me with a frying pan,’ sure.” I leaned back into the couch, closing my eyes. “But I am going to need a lot of coffee before you can convince me to go anywhere.”

THERE WAS SOMETHING WEIRD about having Etienne in the car, rather than having him teleport us all to our destination. The fact that I was maintaining his illusions was even stranger. Quentin was in the back with Chelsea, keeping up the illusion that made her look human. Between the two of us, we were almost up to the challenge.

When this was over, I was going to spend a week sitting on the couch, watching television, and not using any damn magic at all.

I pulled up in front of Bridget’s house, turning to look at Etienne. He looked back at me, edges slightly blurred by my hasty human disguise. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“This is something I should have done sixteen years ago,” he replied. “Chelsea?”

Chelsea sighed. “I don’t think it’s going to get any easier if we put it off.”

“If it were done…” I muttered. More loudly, I said, “You’re right. Okay, everybody. Let’s go.”

Etienne and Chelsea were the first out of the car. I lagged behind, and Quentin did the same, waiting until the passenger-side doors were closed before he asked, “Do you think Bridget’s going to go after us with her frying pan?”

“Just be ready to run,” I advised as I opened my door. It was a little ironic; here we were, escorting the most powerful teleporter in the last few hundred years to her mother’s house, and we didn’t have a means of making a quick escape if we needed one. Tybalt had gone to check on Raj as soon as Chelsea was ready to make the trip to her mother’s house. We’d stopped at Tamed Lightning long enough for Elliot to work a little Bannick magic on everyone’s skin and hair, while April produced fresh clothes from an undisclosed location. I just hoped she hadn’t robbed an Old Navy or something.