All I got were doubtful looks. After another fruitless discussion, I dismissed everyone. Bart remained in his chair.
“You weren’t very talkative,” I said, sitting across from him.
“I wouldn’t want to be seen as too influential. That’s what earns you enemies around here.”
“Is it?” I sighed. Being queen was so complicated.
“I believe you wanted to speak to me.”
“Oh?”
“Every time your gaze falls on me, you get this look in your eyes. As though you’re wondering about something.” He stretched his arms out. “So. Here I am.”
He wasn’t wrong. “What’s your take on what happened on the night of the ceremony?”
The corner of his mouth curled upward. “My take? I believe somebody tried to make a fool of you. Or perhaps they wanted to see what you’re made of. Either way, I don’t believe they succeeded.”
I stared at him in surprise.
Bart threw back his head and laughed. “You don’t really think that’s all you’re capable of, do you? Not now that you have the power of a court behind you.”
“Did you want to know what I’m capable of, Bart?”
He sobered and leaned forward, his palms lying on the table. The backs of his hands were covered in fresh scratches. “I’m desperate to know what you’re capable of. But that isn’t the way I would find out.” He reached across the table, inches away from touching my hand. “And you’ve been kind to me. I don’t think I’d like to make a fool of you either.”
“You gave me a glass of wine, and now people think that you put something in it.”
“They are beyond foolish when it comes to the things they don’t understand.” He leaned back in his chair. “They think of me when anything goes wrong. It wasn’t me. I didn’t interfere with your glass.”
“Then who did?”
“Who says it was your wine?” He lifted his shoulders in shrug. “The fae are imaginative, my dear queen. But if you’re looking to blame anyone, look elsewhere.”
On a whim, I asked, “Why were you arguing with the glaistig?”
A flicker of surprise crossed his face but was gone just as quickly. “She planned on leaving that night. I told her it was a bad time.”
“She’s gone? Could she have done it?”
“She is gone, and she could have done it, but perhaps she just didn’t like the company.”
“I didn’t realise you two were friendly.”
“Friendly?” He sighed. “No, not friendly. But sometimes it’s better to deal with the devil you know.”
“As opposed to?”
“The devil you only know by reputation.” He smiled. “I will personally look into this on your behalf if only to clear my own name.”
“I’m not going to blame you without proof.”
“I know.” He cocked his head to the side. “I can’t tell if that’s noble or just plain foolish.”
***
Scarlet was crying, and the entire court was in an uproar.
“I can’t leave yet,” I snapped at Drake when he asked for the umpteenth time. “Scarlet’s sick.”
“Children often get sick,” Drake said. “We still need to leave as soon as possible. We agreed.”
“Well, I can’t! So you’re going to have to wait.”
He looked at me as though I were the most unreasonable person in the world, but I had never heard such a cry from Scarlet’s mouth before. I hushed her as I held her close to me, terrified that she was somehow succumbing to the faery madness that humans were often vulnerable to.
Her cries grew high-pitched, and everyone in the room flinched. “I’m taking her upstairs,” I said crossly. “Somebody watch out for the Miacha woman.”
Tears rolled down Anya’s face as she followed me upstairs. “I’ve never seen her like this before.”
“Me either. She’s… she’ll be okay.”
But Scarlet’s anguished cries filled the castle, and the staff we passed as we swept up the stairs looked anguished themselves. Was she spreading her emotions outward, too? Was that why people were usually so much happier around her?
In my room, I paced up and down with Scarlet as fae kept coming to the door with ridiculous suggestions, such as putting a moss-covered stone under her pillow or making her drink the blood of various animals killed under a full moon.
“Everyone out!” I shouted at last, unable to take it anymore. “All of you. Leave us alone!”
And Scarlet kept crying. I couldn’t console her. Her cheeks were flushed, and black locks of hair stuck to them. She was agitated and unsettled, and I couldn’t soothe her. I felt like the worst mother in the world and utterly helpless.
“I would take it from you if I could,” I told her. “I’d take it so you didn’t have to feel this way.”
She howled in my ear as I shushed her. She was exhausted. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sleepy, but whatever she was feeling kept her awake.
Sweat rolled down my back. Babies cried. Small children cried. It was usually nothing. But how would I know what was normal?
Servants kept bringing me things intended to soothe Scarlet, but none of them worked. And by the expressions on their faces, my anxiety was getting out of control. I tried to lock it down, to be cool and logical and emotionless, but that was my daughter crying in my arms. I couldn’t do anything but panic and feel.
I heard a horse outside and moved to the window. The cool breeze dried the sweat on my brow. Brendan had just returned on Dubh. He must have been hunting. I wanted to scream at him for hunting while Scarlet was crying nonstop. There wasn’t a rational bone left in my body.
I had to leave the faery realm. I had to take Scarlet to the human realm and get her to a real hospital. The blight would have to wait, and if Scarlet used magic in front of a human, I would figure out a solution later. I had waited too long.
I hurried to the door, desperate to find somebody to help me prepare to leave, but Brendan was standing there instead, his hand in the air, poised to knock.
“I’m sorry!” I cried. “I have to take her to a hospital. I have to bring her to a real doctor because I don’t know how to fix her, and I don’t trust anyone else to help.”
He looked taken aback for an instant before ushering me back inside the room. “Calm down. Children get sick. It doesn’t mean they need the hospital.”
“You don’t understand. She never gets sick! She never, ever, ever gets sick. Or cries. She just doesn’t cry like this. And I’ve checked her for everything I can think of. She has no spots, no rash, no broken bones, no freakishly high temperature, nothing. She’s just… crying, and I’m freaking out. I’m not prepared. She’s not supposed to get sick. I got her vaccinated to stop that!”
He made an expression that I took for disgust.
“Don’t judge me,” I snapped, bouncing Scarlet in my arms. She was exhausted, half-asleep, but still distressed. “It stops kids from catching dangerous diseases.”
“It doesn’t prevent faery fever. And I’m not judging anyone anyway. Why do you always assume—”
“Shut up.” I stopped moving. “What the freaking hell is faery fever?”
He held up his hands, his face creasing with regret. “It’s not… it’s probably not real.”
“You said it. You wouldn’t have said it if… just tell me!”
“There are old stories that say changelings and half-breeds would catch the faerie fever. And if they survived, they were strong and worth having. They became known as fae if they passed that hurdle.”
“Why the fuck has nobody told me about this before?”
“Because it’s a story. It hasn’t happened in years. It may not even be real.”
“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “I did this. I protected her from human diseases, and then I brought her here and exposed her to faery germs!”
“Okay, you need to relax.”
“I need to take her to a hospital.”
“All right,” he said
. “But not until you calm down. What if your anxiety is making her feel worse? You have everyone in the castle wound up, and you’ll do the same to the human doctors. And if they’re wound up, they’re not going to take good care of Scarlet, now, are they?”
I shook my head slowly, trying to see the sense in his words.
He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You go and take a bath while I order the servants to prepare for the journey. I’ll watch Scarlet, and if she isn’t better by the time you’re done, then I’ll go with you.”
“You will?”
“She’s still my heir,” he said in an odd sort of tone. He took Scarlet out of my hands. She was so tired that she barely noticed. But I was sticky with sweat and tears.
“Okay. I’ll get cleaned up, and then we’ll go.”
“And calm down.”
“Right. I’ll calm down. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“I’ll have someone prepare everything,” he said soothingly. “Just trust me.”
I reached out to touch Scarlet then dropped my hand in case Brendan was right, and I was accidentally hurting my own daughter.
The bath helped. Being away from Scarlet’s crying had… wait. I couldn’t hear her crying. Inwardly freaking out, I quickly dried and dressed.
I hurried back to my room, but I couldn’t hear Scarlet’s cries any longer. I burst into the room, panicking, but I stopped short when I saw the scene before me.
My hand flew to my mouth to cover my smile. A giant faery king was asleep on top of my bed, a pink-cheeked toddler nestled against his chest. She snuffled in her sleep. I closed the door gently behind me and approached them. On the bedside locker, a sticky spoon lay next to a popular, human over-the-counter medicine for small children with temperature and pain. Scarlet had never needed it before, and it hadn’t even occurred to me that something like that would help with such cries.
I pressed my hand against Scarlet’s forehead. She was already cooler than before. Her ears were red tinged, and some discharge had come out of one ear canal. I sighed with relief. An ear infection. And now it was over, or at least, she was done crying. The worst part was I knew about such infections, but when they didn’t happen to Scarlet, I forgot that they existed. And faced with a crying child who had never been sick, all logic had flown out the window. What an idiot I was.
Scarlet’s lips moved in her sleep, and her tiny hands clutched Brendan’s shirt. He smelled like grass and fresh air. I yawned, absolutely exhausted. I climbed onto the bed on the other side of Brendan and curled into his side. I fell asleep almost instantly.
Dawn was breaking when I awoke next to Scarlet. She giggled as she tugged on my hair to wake me. Brendan was nowhere to be seen. Gazing at my child, who showed no sign of the previous day's illness, I couldn’t help giving a smile of relief.
***
I waited another day to make sure, but once I was convinced that Scarlet was okay, I took her, Eithne, and Setanta to my grandparents’ house. Many of the children of the court had already been relocated, so that was a relief. Word had been sent ahead, so my family and Zoe knew to expect me.
As soon as I saw Zoe, I pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too. Hey, my little lovebug. How you’ve grown.” She held Scarlet lovingly. “I heard you were sick, but you look all back to normal now.”
“Yeah, she seems fine,” I said. “I kind of panicked. Turns out it was just an ear infection.”
“Poor thing.” She looked at me. “I hear we have a full house. I’d love to stick around, but I’m back in college. I can chip in on the weekends, though, so don’t worry.”
“I’m not expecting you to.”
She caught sight of the hounds. “What the hell are they?”
“Scarlet’s bodyguards in training,” I teased. “They were a gift, and they’re too young to come with me, so I need them here to make sure they get fed. I don’t want them going hunting and forgetting to come back.”
“They look like freaking monster wolves in training. If I get bitten, you’re a dead woman.”
“They won’t bite,” I said impatiently. “I don’t have much time. We’re still organising exactly who gets to be in charge while I’m gone. Bekind will keep you updated, I’m sure.”
“No Anya?”
I shook my head. “She can’t keep giving up her life for us. Besides, she has a wedding to plan.”
Zoe smiled. “Really?”
“Hopefully.”
We spent the morning getting everyone settled in. “I have to check on the other children before I get back,” I said regretfully. “I’ll be home soon enough, honey.” I kissed Scarlet then said my goodbyes. But I bade Bekind and Vix to walk me out for a private chat. Once we were alone, I asked, “How are we getting on with the recruitments?”
“Very well,” Bekind said.
“Just remember,” I said, “we need women who can be subtle, charming, and yet still capable of ripping out a man’s throat if needs be.”
“And can you be all that?” Vix asked.
I stared right back at her. “I’m capable of a lot of things, Vix.”
“Are you certain this is what you want?” Bekind asked.
“It’s necessary. I’m doing things so Scarlet doesn’t have to. And you’re immortal. You can take charge of this for as long as she needs, right?”
Bekind hesitated before nodding. “I will always stand by the two of you. You know that, Cara. But actions like this will change you.”
“I have to change. If we’re to survive, then I need to be the one to change. Have you found anyone with the knowledge to drug me?”
Vix shook her head. “Not the drug we’re looking for.”
“It’s still not certain you were drugged,” Bekind said softly. “It may have been a side effect of the ceremony.”
“Or a desperate Darksider looking for another hit of your personal drug,” Vix added.
“Or someone wondering how far they can push me. Just keep looking. For spies, for assassins… and most of all, for traitors.”
Chapter Fourteen
Six of us left on horseback the following morning. I took Dubh and Rumble, Brendan brought Bran, and Dymphna volunteered to accompany Drake. Darksiders lined the road through the forest to salute us as we passed. I briefly wondered which one of them would be likeliest to stab me in the back.
Dubh was eager to run, so we indulged in some galloping away from the others until I remembered that Rumble’s job was to keep up with me. When I rode back to the others, my cheeks felt hot, my heart raced, and my mind was clear of any cobwebs.
“You look happy,” Dymphna said with a smile.
“I haven’t done this in a while, not since somebody tried to shoot me with an arrow. Again. I’ve been cooped up for too long. Poor Dubh. He’s missed this, too.”
“And all it took was a blight,” Brendan teased.
“I sometimes wonder if Sadler planned this to happen after his death,” Drake said.
Brendan snorted. “It’s more like something a scorned god would do.”
“If that’s right,” I said slowly, thinking of Thistle’s suggestion, “can’t we just appeal to a stronger god for help?”
“Who would want to provoke a god like that?” Bran asked.
“Oh, brony,” I teased. “Are you scared?”
“I’m too smart to be anything but scared,” he said.
I laughed. The kid was sweet, and I was glad he was on the journey with us because everyone else was acting as though their mothers had just died.
We had decided to visit the Watcher first in case he had information on where to find the Guardian. Everyone was agreed that my meeting with the Guardian had been a lucky coincidence, and I wasn’t entirely sure I could find him or the Watcher again. The kings were both fairly certain they could find the Watcher’s underground tunnel, and Dubh was another sure bet, so I wasn’t worried.
“Can we see the sinkhole?” Brendan asked.
>
“It wouldn’t take long to detour,” I said. “It’s close to the castle. But I wouldn’t want to hang around.”
“I’d just like to see it.”
Rumble led the way. He knew the land better than I did because I hadn’t had much of a chance to explore. Most of my time in the Darkside had been spent hiding, running, or desperately trying to figure a way out. And yet, I had willingly come back. I definitely had issues.
But it felt good to be on Dubh’s back and able to go wherever I liked without a gang of people watching me. The Darksiders could be intense sometimes. Rumble, on the other hand, had a knack of disappearing even when he was right next to me. He never crowded or bugged me. Drake was too concerned with his own thoughts to bother me, and Brendan had begun to treat me as though I were more on par with him. He had always been indulgent, but he had accepted that I was in charge of my own people even before I killed Sadler.
“Are we in danger in the Darkside?” Drake asked, interrupting my thoughts. “Are there still rebels running around?”
Rumble looked at him. “Aren’t there any in your territory?”
Drake glared but didn’t respond. Hiding my smile, I urged Dubh forward to ride next to Rumble. We moved out of earshot of the others.
“Don’t let him get to you,” I advised. “Thanks to Deorad and Sadler, the Darksiders scream enemy to him. He’ll get over it someday.”
“I don’t care what he thinks,” Rumble said.
I wondered if he thought about the fact that he and Drake shared the same father. “You don’t have to wear the helmet all the time, you know.”
He jerked in the saddle. “Perhaps I want to.”
“All of the time? Sometimes, you might be more comfortable without it.”
“But others might not.”
“I thought you didn’t care what other people thought.”
“Not all other people.” He glanced at me. “I don’t want to disturb my queen or princess.”