The Mad Queen (The Fae War Chronicles Book 5) Read online

  “And Molly remains in the mortal world,” said Vell.

  “Yes.” Tess glanced at the entrances to the pavilion. There was still no sign of the other Queens. “You should know that Mab placed a rune on the inside of Ramel’s armor. She was controlling him, using him to spy on us.”

  Vell’s jaw tightened. “There is no law that prevents her from cruelty to her own people, though I would think that the bounds of common decency would not have to be pointed out to her by a Northern savage such as me.”

  “There was no way to break her enchantment,” Tess continued quickly. “There were runes on the outside of the armor that would have seriously injured anyone who attempted to remove it.”

  “Is Mab’s Vaelanbrigh dead?” Vell asked with calm composure.

  “He was nearly killed in an explosion during the battle with the bone sorcerer,” said Tess. “But he survived, and the force of the explosion was enough to damage his armor and warp the rune. He wasn’t strong enough to travel back through the portal.”

  “Though I’m sure Mab will argue that her Knight is much stronger here, closer to her,” murmured Vell.

  “I made the decision,” Tess said. “If Mab wants to confront me about it, so be it.”

  “As much as I would like to see that confrontation end badly for Mab, this is not a council that I want to end in strife,” said Vell. “The consequences could be disastrous.”

  “Disastrous for whom?” Tess knew her old friend well enough to see the thoughts whirling behind Vell’s golden gaze.

  “Liam had a vision of a war against Mab led by Molly,” Vell replied.

  Tess stared at her.

  “You know that it’s only one possibility, one of many futures…but I believe that Ramel’s survival may be the key to preventing that particular carnage.”

  “That’s part of why I left him in Doendhtalam,” said Tess quietly. “Mab has executed two of her sworn Three in the past hundred years. I couldn’t be the one to condemn Ramel to death.”

  Vell nodded. “Anything else?”

  “The Exiled. We encountered them. Corsica and Tyr,” said Tess.

  “Corsica and Tyr?” Vell repeated, her expression sharpening. “You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes,” Tess replied, narrowing her eyes.

  “They are alive, but at what cost?” Vell shook her head.

  “You know Corsica and Tyr?” Shock reverberated in Tess’s chest. It had been a blow when Vell had known about the Exiled and hadn’t told her…but if Vell had known Corsica and Tyr, that dug the shard of betrayal even deeper.

  “I know of them,” corrected Vell. “If I remember correctly, they knew my grandfather and grandmother. They lived in the North in the years just before the Reaping.”

  Tess blinked, doing mental math. She turned her attention to Finnead. “Did you know Corsica and Tyr? You would have been a young squire or perhaps even a Knight.”

  A slight crease appeared on Finnead’s brow. “The names sound strangely familiar, but I…do not know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Tess replied. “I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t remember two of the Exiled. It seems like it was a pretty big event.”

  Finnead blinked several times. “The blood oath…took some of our memories. We are only now understanding the extent to which the Queen infiltrated our minds when we pledged our fealty to her with such a binding.”

  “It sounds to me like you might be using Mab as an excuse for keeping the secret of the Exiled,” responded Tess with an arched eyebrow.

  “Lady Bearer,” said Vell in subtle remonstrance.

  “We spoke about the Exiles before I left,” said Tess, still speaking to Finnead. “You called them traitors. You said they deserved to die.”

  “I did,” replied Finnead steadily. “There has been ample time for me to contemplate things that I once thought were fixed and unmovable in my world.”

  Tess realized as she listened to Finnead’s words that he sounded different. He looked different, just as Liam looked different than when she’d left, but it was almost as if the vitality her brother had gained had been drawn from Finnead. Bruised blue circles beneath his eyes stood out vividly against his pale skin, and the sheen in his raven’s-wing hair seemed less brilliant and captivating than she remembered. And for the first time she could remember, he sounded truly tired. Even in the worst stretches of their journey to defeat Malravenar – when they’d been held prisoner by the Vaelanseld, when he’d been poisoned by the syivhalla, when he’d drowned in the Darinwel – he hadn’t ever looked so exhausted and wrung out. A strange twinge of concern plucked at something in Tess’s chest. She turned back to Vell, a silent question written across her face.

  “I’ll explain later,” Vell said quietly. Then, louder, she added, “We shall have to have a feast tonight to celebrate the return of the Bearer.”

  Liam grinned and winked at Tess, who rolled her eyes at him.

  Calliea strode into the pavilion and bowed to Vell. “Queen Titania, my lady.”

  Vell inclined her head regally as the Seelie Queen entered the pavilion in a gentle swell of golden light, a warm, fragrant breeze wrapping around them with silken fingers. Titania wore a diaphanous white gown with beautiful, riotous vines embroidered on the hem and up the sleeves. As the Queen glided across the floor of the pavilion, several of the vines erupted in gorgeous blooms, the petals opening, displayed in all their glory for a heartbeat, and then twisting closed again. The vines twined around the Queen’s arms, then retreated back to her wrists, surging up from her eddying hem to bloom and then subside, an impossibly fast-growing garden embracing the Queen with undulating waves of glorious greenery. Tess found herself so distracted by the stunning display of casual sorcery that she didn’t immediately recognize that Titania wore a white and gold breastplate over the bodice of her dress, and her golden-sheathed sword rested at her hip. Ailin and Gawain, the remaining two of the Seelie Three, walked half a pace behind the Queen on her right and left. The Knights wore their armor and their swords, though as always the Seelie wore expressions of subtle mirth, half-smiles and glinting eyes that hinted at their perpetual amusement at the world around them.

  Beneath those facades of tawny beauty dwelled hearts that could be just as brutal as Mab, thought Tess, though the Seelie’s ruthless sides often burst forth in fiery displays of passion rather than silent, icy cruelty. She remembered when the Seelie and Unseelie had come to blows during the journey across the Deadlands, the Seelie laughingly taunting the Unseelie and infuriating them with their grins.

  Queen Titania bowed her head briefly in Vell’s direction. “High Queen.” Ailin and Gawain bowed deeply from the waist behind her.

  “Queen Titania,” replied Vell with grave courtesy. She nodded to the Seelie Queen’s Vaelanbrigh and Vaelanmavar.

  Then the Seelie Queen shifted her attention to Tess, a sisterly smile curving her perfect mouth. “Lady Bearer. I did not expect your return so soon. I congratulate you on the success of your journey into the mortal world.”

  “Thank you,” replied Tess, wondering if she imagined the strange undercurrent of tension in Titania’s voice. She let herself smile slightly.

  Titania turned her attention back to Vell. “Crown sister, I have heard troubling reports from the Unseelie Court.”

  “As have I,” replied Vell gravely.

  “Is it wise to wait until Queen Mab arrives to discuss these matters?” Titania raised an eyebrow delicately.

  Tess felt the power of the Caedbranr shift uneasily in her chest. She drew back her shoulders and surveyed the pavilion, trying to read the intentions of the two Queens and their warriors. Ailin and Gawain, for their part, still looked relaxed, but they were Seelie Knights with hundreds of years of experience. They stood within arm’s length of their queen. The High Queen’s Three radiated a watchful air, as though they expected the Seelie or Unseelie to tip the balance of the council toward violence. She recognized Liam’s posture: alert
yet not tense, loosely ready for any challenge, his face unreadable and his eyes moving between the Seelie Knights and the entrances of the pavilion. Gray seemed focused on her Seelie brethren, one hand casually resting on the hilt of her sword. And Finnead…Finnead looked as though he’d been dragged across the Deadlands and back again behind a faehal, but his fathomless eyes still contained that familiar determination.

  Vell waved one hand in a silent gesture of invitation to Queen Titania. The Seelie Queen smiled and took a few steps closer, resting one flawless smooth-skinned hand on the council table.

  “I have been told that there are some in the Unseelie Court who fear for their lives,” said Titania. “Merely displeasing the Queen through some small error or slight, sometimes even imagined, is enough for her to punish her subjects, even unto death.”

  Finnead clenched his jaw. The Fae-spark flashed in his eyes for an instant. Tess wondered if he was angry with his former mistress – or perhaps he was concerned for the fate of the Crown Princess.

  “I have heard of the cruelties of the Unseelie Queen,” said Vell, “but is it our place to rebuke her?”

  “It is not my place,” conceded Titania, “but I believe it is yours.”

  “To what end?” asked Vell. “I have my own Court, my own people.”

  “Some members of your Court were once Unseelie,” replied Titania, nodding gracefully to Finnead. “Do they not feel any responsibility to protect their former companions?”

  “Even if they did feel such an obligation, they would not take any action without my permission,” said Vell firmly. “My Court is young. Because of the annihilation of my people, I have taken those who wished to be a part of the Vyldgard. Who have been found worthy,” she added with a wolfish grin. “I may not grip them as tightly as Queen Mab, but I demand their loyalty and honesty.”

  Tess suddenly became aware that Luca had not moved to join Vell. He stood at her right, separate from the High Queen’s Three, Kianryk sitting as still as a statue by his side. Like Liam, his eyes traveled intently from the Queens to their warriors and then to the entrances of the pavilion.

  “Your Unseelie-born feel no empathy for those caught in Mab’s cruel claws?” Titania asked, her voice smooth as silk and rich as velvet, as warm as summer sunshine. It was difficult to see the enmity in her words when they caressed the ears of those listening with such a delicate touch.

  “They are free to feel whatever they might,” said Vell. Titania’s voice clearly held no sway over the High Queen. “But acting against another Court without my express permission is one of the few freedoms I have not given my people.”

  “Yes,” murmured Titania, her gaze sliding to Finnead, “I have heard that you allow them a great many freedoms indeed.”

  Gwyneth’s pendant warmed at Tess’s throat. She resisted the urge to indulge her habit of hooking a finger through the circular pendant, instead turning inward, checking the well of her own taebramh behind her heart and then brushing over the fire of the Sword, which now paced restlessly in circles behind her breastbone.

  “I do not know what you have heard, Queen Titania,” replied Vell with another canine grin. “And I do not much care. I know that I tend to my Court with every breath that I draw into my body, and I will always look after the welfare of my people.”

  “Nobly spoken,” said Titania, inclining her head. “But, High Queen, are you willing to stand silent when innocents, though they may be of another Court, are tortured and killed?” A strange yet familiar hardness glinted in the Seelie Queen’s eyes. “After all, you have spoken against the inaction of the Sidhe Courts when your people were beset by evil in the North.”

  Luca tensed beside Tess, and Kianryk, still larger than Tess had ever seen him before, leaned forward slightly, his muscles coiling beneath his tawny pelt. Tess felt a flare of pride in her old friend as Vell regarded the Seelie Queen in steely silence, inscrutable and unyielding. After a long moment, the Vyldretning spoke.

  “We must be careful to distinguish between the evil that extinguished my people and the cruelty which has perhaps twisted an ordained Queen’s governance of her people,” said the High Queen. “For if we give ourselves permission to interfere in each other’s Courts at will, the coming days will be fraught with violence.”

  “What do you suggest, High Queen?” Titania asked with delicate, deliberate courtesy.

  “I suggest we do not rush to judgment, and we use all means available to solve any conflict before violence,” Vell replied.

  Titania laughed, the sound as musical as sweet bells. “Well, I never thought I would hear a daughter of the house of Haldvyk argue against fighting injustice.”

  Tess saw the anger swirling behind Vell’s eyes, the High Queen’s gaze molten gold, searing and beautiful.

  “Let no one ever say a daughter of the house of Haldvyk does not fight injustice,” Vell said in a low, deadly voice. “For it is by injustice that only one daughter of that house survives to stand before you now as High Queen.”

  The Seelie Queen raised her chin at the rebuke implicit in the Vyldretning’s words. Before she could speak, Tess broke the silence.

  “If we are truly concerned about Mab’s treatment of her people, then we must set aside our differences now and solve the most urgent problems with a united front.” She looked at Vell and then held Titania’s gaze before continuing. “That does not mean we are united against the Unseelie. It means that we are united in our purpose of achieving justice, whatever form that may take.”

  The Seelie Queen smiled. “Ah, Lady Bearer, how you have bloomed since I first met you on that grassy hill.”

  Tess nodded. “Shortly after you brought me to that hill, I saw the destruction of the Saemhradall by Malravenar’s creatures. That was evil, the same evil that ravaged the North, and we cannot forget it. If we call everything evil, then aren’t we saying that nothing is evil?”

  “I am hardly calling everything evil, Lady Bearer,” said Titania gracefully, “but I concede the point to you.”

  “And not a moment too soon,” said Luca quietly.

  Wintry wind blasted through the pavilion, its freezing fingers snatching at Vell’s cloak and whipping the sleeves of Titania’s gown. The two Queens turned to face the western entrance to the pavilion. Titania waved a hand and the wind subsided, but the air remained cold enough to freeze their breath white.

  Queen Mab swept into the pavilion in a swirl of stinging snow. Tess winced at the harsh bite of the Unseelie Queen’s entrance. Gwyneth’s pendant pulsed at her throat and produced a white-gold halo that encapsulated her, stilling and warming the air. Tess blinked and glanced over at Luca. She found that the pendant wasn’t using her taebramh, but she gave the hazy skin of the bubble a nudge and it expanded to include Luca, the white-gold light slowly fading but the invisible barrier remaining their shield against Mab’s sorcery.

  Donovan walked one step behind Mab as her Vaelanmavar, his black armor absorbing light rather than reflecting it, his expression blank. Tess hadn’t known Donovan well during her time at the Unseelie Court, but she did remember his laugh and his smile from the feast that had welcomed Finnead back to Court. The Unseelie Vaelanseld remained the only constant, as immovable and unchanging as one of the marble pillars that supported the pavilion.

  Tess tried not to stare when her eyes settled on Queen Mab. The Unseelie Queen displayed a savage beauty, her lips blood red and her marble skin paler than the snow whipping around her. A woven silver net studded with rubies bound up her hair, and she wore her diadem with the blazing star on her brow. Her silver armor reflected the colors of the other two Queens: Vell’s scarlet cape and Titania’s golden breastplate. But the Unseelie Queen’s hands were what kept drawing Tess’s gaze magnetically, as though her mind couldn’t comprehend what she’d seen and kept directing her eyes to check. Queen Mab’s delicate fingers ended in black, curved talons, the claws of a bird of prey. A chill slipped down Tess’s back. The pendant sent a reassuring pulse of warmth into h
er breastbone. Tess steeled herself as Queen Mab inclined her head slightly to Vell, nodded fractionally to Titania, and then turned a cold gaze on Tess.

  “Lady Bearer,” the Unseelie Queen said, a mirthless smile curving her lips. “You have returned so soon from your world.” Her eyes traveled over Tess’s face, emotionless and as cold as the frost crackling on the marble floor.

  “Yes,” said Tess simply, proud of the firmness of her voice and the casual tone of her reply.

  “And yet you have not returned my Vaelanbrigh to me,” said Mab, her black talons plucking idly at her silvery skirts as she took two languid steps toward Tess.

  “I am sure you felt the tragedy which befell him,” replied Tess. “He was gravely wounded in our fight against the bone sorcerer.”

  “I can heal his wounds,” purred Mab.

  Tess raised her chin and met the Unseelie Queen’s eyes. “Or you would kill him.”

  Mab narrowed her eyes slightly, staring at Tess like a snake eyeing a mouse.

  You are no mouse, said the Caedbranr firmly.

  If she is a snake, then I am a mongoose, replied Tess silently, holding Mab’s venomous gaze steadily. For a moment, she felt an odd sensation from the Sword, one she couldn’t quite place at first…and then she realized it was puzzlement. The Caedbranr, in all its long existence, didn’t know the creature called a mongoose.

  They kill snakes, Tess told the blade.

  Then perhaps it is a metaphor that strikes too close to the truth of this, said the Caedbranr.

  Mab’s low voice brought Tess back from her silent conversation.

  “If I kill him, it is my right as his Queen,” Mab hissed.

  “But it is not your right to kill me,” Tess replied, letting a hint of a challenge ring in her voice. She heard a swell of indrawn breath throughout the pavilion, but she didn’t look away from the pale, furious Unseelie Queen.

  “You are standing here before us,” Mab replied silkily, “so of course I did not kill you.” She smiled and clicked two of her talons together, the small sound echoing strangely.