0449474001339292671 4 fighting faer

It served as a testament to her majestic power, Lucifer McAnu reflected, that no one in the Fae realm nor the mortal could compare with the Faerie Queen when it came to being a huge, hairy pain in the ass.

Of course, if anyone ever said such a thing in his presence, he’d do his duty as one of her elite warrior Guardsmen and slit the traitorous bastard’s throat. But he might feel a twinge of hypocritical guilt while he re-sheathed his silver sword.

The only thing he felt at the moment, while he slung said sword into what the mortals called a “duffle bag,” was the urgent need to drink a gallon of Faerie wine and pass out under a tree somewhere. He added a change of clothes, a woodcarver’s knife, an arsenal of Fae weaponry and his favorite pair of slippers to the bag. Maybe if he got drunk enough, and stayed unconscious long enough, the Queen would forget all about the mission she’d sent him on. Of course, that seemed about as likely as him abandoning Faerie for good to go live among the humans. Ugh!

A knock registered in his mind, but he didn’t bother to do more than grunt and proceed to ignore the interruption. Unfortunately, said interruption would not be ignored and picked his lock with the dexterity of the Fae it was.

“Luc, Luc, Luc,” the interloper chided, ambling into the room to stand beside the massive bed, his arms crossed over his muscular chest, and his face wearing a mockingly pitiful expression. “I told you it would come to no good, this tendency of yours to do your job well and with efficiency. ‘Tis near enough a human trait as to be very un-Fae indeed, and it looks like I was right, now doesn’t it?”

“Piss off, Fergus.” Luc gave his friend and fellow Guardsman one fulminating stare from his narrowed green eyes and continued to stuff his belongings into the bag. He wadded up several extra pairs of socks and used them to pad the flask of wine he added to his gear. “The last thing I need right now is your bloody attempt at consolation.”

“Oh, I didn’t come to console you.” Fergus shifted to lean against the bed end and automatically shook his head to keep his waist-length, auburn braid from getting pinned behind him. “I came for no other reason than to poke fun at you.”

Pulling himself to his full six and a half feet of brawny height, Luc set his face into an expression as warm and soft as granite and crossed his own arms over his chest to mirror the other man’s posture. “I could order you to get your Goddess-forsaken ass out of my room, Lieutenant.”

“True, but you know I would simply ignore you. Your Mighty Captain of the Guard routine has no power over the one who watched you fumble your way through your first encounter with a dryad lo these many ages ago.”

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Fergus’s grin was cocky, which made Luc itch to punch it that much worse. Instead of striking, he sighed. “The thing you fail to grasp,” he said, as he grabbed the bag and headed for the door, “is that I
am
the Captain of the Guard. You’re supposed to follow my orders. Without all the commentary.”

“And what’s the fun in that?” Fergus followed Luc out the door.

The pair padded silently along the stone hallways, their leather-booted feet making no more sound against the polished stone than their shadows did. As members of the Queen’s Guard, both warriors had trained from their early days to move as silently as the stars and to strike more swiftly than a snake. The figures that scurried hurriedly out of the way as they passed by gave testament to the fact that all who lived in the Queen’s realm knew well what an angry Guardsman could do.

“It might convince me to spare your life.”

“I’m not worried,” Fergus replied cheerfully. “You know how she hates it when her warriors fight among themselves. She’d just give you a scolding.”

Considering Mab was the reason for Luc’s foul mood, his friend’s reminder didn’t exactly up his cheer factor. “Don’t you have imps you could be persecuting? Bogles that need to be driven off the palace grounds? Someone else you could be annoying?”

“Not a soul. Besides, I’m on a mission of great import.” Fergus followed Luc around a corner and down another long hallway to a pair of heavy, carved doors. “The rest of the Seven and I want to know if it’s true. Are you sent to retrieve the Queen’s nephew? Again?”

“Aye,” Luc growled, not bothering to look back. His mind occupied itself replaying the cause of his anger and inventing new and creative ways of cursing Seoc ni Flidais, only son of the Queen’s dead sister, and another royal pain in the ass. “I leave immediately for Ithir.”

“The mortal world?” Fergus did a double take and almost had the door slammed in his face as Luc yanked it open and strode into the chamber beyond. “I thought that was just a rumor.”

“One with too much basis in fact. The Queen informs me that reliable sources place Seoc—or ‘Jack Green,’ as he’s apparently calling himself—in the city ofNew York.”

“Lady!” Fergus swore, following fast on his friend’s heels. “Even I didn’t think Seoc was that stupid, to leave Faerie for the human world. He knows our laws as well as any Fae living. No one is allowed to set foot in the land of the mortals without permission, and to walk among them…that takes balls. How could he just disregard the law?”

“I did not ask for your opinion, Fergus of Eithdne, or your assistance. It is not for you to pass judgment on my sister’s child. It is not your place.”

The voice from the shadows drew the pair up short. Being overheard didn’t surprise Luc, but it made Fergus turn an interesting shade of green.

Their attention shifted to the far side of the large Chamber of Doors and to the dais at the other end of the room. Atop the gleaming marble platform, on a silver throne sculpted in the shape of a breaking wave, sat Mab of the Silver Bells, Lady of Many Blessings, Huntress of Spirits and Queen of Faerie and Elfhame.

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She wore a diadem of bright silver in the shape of a wreath of apple blossoms perched on her bright, red-gold hair. A surcoat of russet velvet topped her gown of amber silk, shot through with silver thread, and the rich fabrics seemed to spark each time she moved. Her pale, slender feet peeked from beneath her hem, toes adorned with silver bells, and her graceful, ringed fingers tapped restlessly against the arms of her throne. Luc noted the hint of impatience and braced himself.

“You become slow to answer your Queen, my Lucifer.” Mab’s voice, low and musical, displayed a hint of petulance that made Luc wary. He harbored few charitable feelings toward her right now, and another scolding was not going to help. “We might be tempted to interpret such a thing as a reluctance to serve us.”

Beside him, Fergus stiffened, but Luc kept his gaze firmly on the changeable green eyes of his sovereign.

They shifted as restlessly as the sea and could be just as deadly. “Never think it, my Queen,” he said, bowing before her. “I am come to your command, ready to complete the task you have set me. I am ever at your service, as are all of your Guard. We answer always to your majesty’s whim.” The formal language of court didn’t make his flowery words any easier to get out. In fact, he felt more like choking on them, but only a fool told Queen Mab she was a bitch. No matter how true it might be.

Mab shifted, her brows rising. “Is that so?” Her gaze turned to Fergus and sharpened. “Does the captain of my Guard speak true, my Fergus? Are all of the Seven as loyal to us as he would make them sound?” Fergus, too, bowed low, clearly anxious to make up for insulting Seoc in the Queen’s hearing. “Without question, my lady. To serve in the Queen’s Guard is an honor of which we Seven are well aware.” He straightened and placed his hand above his heart in a salute of fealty. “Your safety and the rule of your word are our only concerns.”

Luc fought back the urge to groan. Talking to the Queen required one to walk a thin line, and he only hoped Fergus hadn’t gone overboard with his flattery. If Mab perceived any insult as more severe than failing to flatter her, it was flattering her insincerely. When she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, he concealed a wince.

“Is that so, my Fergus? We appreciate the reassurance now more than ever, in this time when disturbing news reaches our ears. For we have heard rumbling that the services of our Guard might soon see a greater challenge than they have yet faced.”

Lucifer maintained a bland expression even as he swore silently. If the Queen had news for him, it couldn’t be good. The fact that Seoc had traveled unbidden to Ithir was bad enough. He really didn’t want to hear any more ‘disturbing’ news. “Any manner of service to our Queen honors us,” he said, drawing her attention away from his lieutenant. “We await your orders and will see them executed with all speed and diligence.”

The royal lips pursed again, accompanied by the lifting of her chin and an easing of the tightness around her eyes. For now, the Queen had been appeased. Abruptly, she stood, sweeping her robes behind her as she began to pace the length of her marble dais.

“My advisor has brought me word that Seoc’s little trip to the mortal realm might have put us in a more delicate situation than we first believed.” With everyone reminded of his or her place in the hierarchy of Faerie, Mab dispensed with the royal “we” and continued with a slight bend in her formality. “It seems he has not confined his associations to the Other-folk in Ithir, but has allowed his presence to be noted by the mortals as well.”

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Concealing his intense un-surprise, Luc acknowledged the disclosure with an impassive stare and another internal oath. He had still held out some hope that Seoc might have used what little brainpower he possessed to keep himself confined in the Other society of Ithir. While the Fae had abandoned that world centuries ago, some races had stayed behind to live secretly among the humans. Immortals such as the vampires and non-humans like the werefolk still roamed throughout the human world, keeping their identities carefully guarded secrets. Their ruling body, the Council of Others, still kept in contact with the Fae court and would have had little problem with a visit from the Queen’s nephew. But if Seoc had begun to walk among the humans as well, that meant trouble.

Luc knew better than to express disbelief or condemnation for the royal nephew’s actions. Only the Queen was allowed to speak ill of the worthless dung beetle, even though it had become Luc’s job to drag him back home with his tail between his legs. Such was life at court.

“Seoc means no harm, I am certain, but he must learn that his antics reflect on more than himself. Even my indulgence cannot shield him forever from the consequences of his actions.” Luc felt his eyebrows climb toward his hairline, but he kept his mouth shut.

“In Faerie I can keep his mischief contained,” the Queen continued, “but I have no such control in Ithir.

The human world does not bow to my authority, and therefore is a place too treacherous to allow him free rein. And so I have asked the Captain of my Guard to go after my nephew and return him to court.

His presence begins to disturb the flow of the human reality, and the Others have sent word they are anxious to have him gone.”

Too bad no one but the Queen is anxious to have him back, Luc thought.

“Can they not return him themselves?” Fergus voiced the question Luc knew better than to ask.

“The Others may be superior to the mortals they live among, but they can hardly be considered our equals, my Fergus,” the Queen sniffed, pointing her regal little nose at the ceiling. “Seoc could elude them forever if he so chose. No, it must be a Fae to catch a Fae. Besides which, the Others harbor a great fear of their secret being revealed should they take action. They believe the humans are not ready to acknowledge the truth of their existence, and I must say I agree on that point. The inability of mortals to accept the magic before them is the reason we abandoned their realm so many years ago. I do not think they have progressed so far in the time they have had since.” Lucifer rolled his shoulders, feeling his impatience growing. “I understand, Your Majesty. I will find Seoc and return him to you with all speed, and the mortals will be none the wiser.” He hitched his bag of belongings in a firmer grip and rested his free hand on the hilt of his short, sharp
sgian dubh
.

“See that they are not, my Lucifer.” The Queen grasped her long skirts and lifted them from around her feet as she descended the steps of the dais to sweep across the floor toward the Guardsmen. “This task I have set you to is important for many reasons. More than my nephew’s safety is at stake here. If the existence of the Others becomes common knowledge to the mortals, it would not be long before they found their way to even our realm. You must not allow this to happen.” Luc set his jaw and nodded once, curtly. “I understand,” he repeated. “I will do all in my power and use all resources at hand, my lady.”