Seanan McGuire - An Artificial Night

“Actually, I doubt that,” I said. When there’s nowhere left to run, take refuge in cockiness. “I dream some pretty old dreams.”

“Do you?” His illusions were gone, and I could see him properly now. He was tall and thin, with skin streaked white and tan like ash bark, amber-colored hair, and ears that were forked like a stag’s horns. Just another fae lord, no less strange than the Luidaeg and maybe stronger than she, but not the world wearing flesh. He wasn’t a god, and I was glad. I can handle purebloods and Firstborn. I can’t handle gods.

“I want my kids back,” I said, keeping my voice steady. Even if he wasn’t a god, the Luidaeg was afraid of him, and I respected that. I respected getting out alive even more. “Give them to me, and I’ll go.”

“Your ‘kids’? You seek playmates? Come now, the best games are here. The best toys are here.” He dipped a hand behind himself, pulling out a crystal globe with a yellow swallowtail butterfly trapped inside it. The butterfly was frantic, beating its wings against the glass. “Stay.”

“I can’t,” I said, with level courtesy. “I have a job to do.”

“They thrust you into service so young? Poor thing, you’ve forgotten how to play. I can teach you. Stay.”

“No.”

“Well, then. If you’re so set—which of my new friends are ‘your kids’?”

“Stacy and Mitch Brown’s children. The children of the Court of Cats.” I paused, remembering Raj, and added, “The Hob, Helen. They’re my responsibility, and I’m not leaving without them. Give them to me, and let us go.”

Blind Michael laughed, sounding honestly amused as he tucked the crystal sphere away behind him. “Why should I?”

Good question. “Because I’m asking so nicely?”

“You’re in my lands, little girl. Why should I let you go, much less let you take any of my new family?” He kept turning his head, like he was seeing me from multiple angles. I glanced to the right and saw that the children on that side were watching me intently; they weren’t looking at their lord all. The Riders, on the other hand, were only looking at Blind Michael—I might as well not have been there. Interesting.

“Because I’m under your sister’s protection.” I held up my candle. The flame had died back to a glowing ember, but it was still burning. I tried to take comfort in that. “The Luidaeg promised me passage.”

“And passage you have had. Passage through my lands and through my consort’s wood. Now you are come to me. My pretty sister cannot guarantee your safety in my Court.”

Damn. “Because it’s no fun for you if you don’t let us go?”

“Hmmm. Almost a point, child—but you aren’t a child, are you?” He leaned forward, frowning. “You’re not mine. You should be. What are you, little girl that isn’t mine?”

“I’m here under your sister’s guardianship. Nothing else about me matters. Now let me go, and let me take my kids. You admit that I’m not yours.”

His frown deepened for an instant, becoming cold and puzzled. “You’re Amandine’s daughter, aren’t you? You are. I can smell it on you. Why are you here? She never came, and once a road is set aside, no other feet should claim it.”

“For my kids,” I repeated. I could worry about how he knew my mother later.

“Take them,” he countered. “Play a game with me, and save them if you can.”

Something in his words clicked. I straightened, hoping he wouldn’t hear the excitement in my voice. “I’m your prisoner. That’s not fair.” He was a child’s terror, and that implied a certain reliance on games. More important, it implied a dependence on being fair. Children don’t care about good or evil; all that matters is that you play fair and follow the rules. If Blind Michael followed children’s laws, he’d have to play fair with me, or winning wouldn’t count.

Root and branch, I hoped I was right. Blind Michael nodded, turning sightless eyes toward the trees. “It’s not, and games must be fair,” he said. “Shall we have a wager, then?”

“What kind of wager?” I asked cautiously. The fae may not have souls to gamble with, but there are other things that we can lose.

“My Hunters cannot see you while you hold my sister’s mark.” He gestured toward my candle. Bingo. They couldn’t focus on me directly. The children still could. That’s why he was watching me through them. “I’ll give you a head start before I loose my Hunters. If they can find you, if they can catch you, you belong to me, forever. If you can free your children …”

“If I can free them, you don’t follow us out of your lands.”

“Agreed. The children you have claimed can go with you, if you can escape me.”

I had to be missing something, but there wasn’t time to argue. “Deal.”

His expression sharpened. “So run, little girl, as far as your candle will take you. You have until I order my Hunt to follow, and my patience is not long.” He settled back in his throne. “Go.”

There was a rustling behind me. Turning, I saw that the children had moved aside, opening a clear path to the plains beyond the line of trees. I took off running without a backward glance, clutching the candle close to my body to shield it from the wind. Blind Michael’s Court howled and catcalled behind me, trying to break my focus. I just kept running until I was through the crowd, through the trees, and the sounds of the Court vanished behind me. I was suddenly on the plains where I’d started, surrounded by empty wasteland and miles away from my goal.

Only now Blind Michael’s entire Court knew I was here. And they would be coming after me. Just great.

THE LANDSCAPE HADN’T CHANGED since my arrival in Blind Michael’s lands; even my footprints were intact, marking my point of arrival. I turned to face the distant mountains. That was where Blind Michael and his Court were waiting, and that was presumably where he was holding the kids. Somehow my panicked flight had carried me back to the start of my journey, with no ground lost or gained … but now Blind Michael knew I was coming. I had to go back to his Court, steal my children, and escape, all without being seen.

Planning has never been one of my strengths—I’m better at leaping before I look—and I know when I’m outmatched. Blind Michael was bigger, meaner, and stronger. I needed to have some sort of plan before I approached him again, or I was going to wind up joining the misshapen throng that haunted the Children’s Hall. I suppressed a shudder. Death would be better than transformation and eternal enslavement to a madman who thought he was a god, and that was probably exactly why he’d do his best not to let me die. People like that like to keep their toys, no matter how broken those toys get.

That just meant I couldn’t let him catch me. I turned away from the mountains, looking toward the forest. It was closer than the mountains. I could reach the edge of the trees in less than an hour, if I hurried.

“Blind Michael said the woods belonged to his consort,” I muttered, thinking of the yellow-skinned woman. She hadn’t looked very friendly. I’m normally willing to forgive first impressions, but if she was Blind Michael’s consort, I probably didn’t need to. The Luidaeg’s spell hid me from her. I doubted that made her an ally. “Let’s not go that way.” “Don’t go to the wood” was the first part of a plan. Now I just needed a way to get back into Blind Michael’s Court, rescue the kids, and get them out of his lands without being caught by any of his legion of heavily armed, extremely faithful servants. Why is nothing ever easy?

My candle burned a reassuring blue as I started toward the mountains. I found myself moving in an uneven line, always staying in easy reach of cover. It wasn’t a conscious decision, and it was still the best idea I’d had all day. The Riders couldn’t see me very well—the Luidaeg’s spell made sure of that—but they’d spotted me when I drew attention to myself. Walking straight for Blind Michael’s throne would probably count as drawing attention.