A Fair Fight (28 page)

But at what cost? They'd lost two of their strongest, as well as the only leaders most of the living fae had ever known.

Worse to Megan, of course, was that after a lifetime of never knowing her father, only a year and a half beyond finding that piece of her life, she'd lost him.

She wondered what she would tell her mother. She wondered why she hadn't been allowed to have an honest balance in her life for even the briefest of times. She wondered when Justin would return to the empty chair on her left, because her hand felt empty.

Eventually he did, and she rose. Before he could say anything, she wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder, and just let herself cry. His arms closed around her, and he just held her quietly for some time, only speaking when she'd finally lifted her head to look at him.

"Megan, I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Thank you, but... Justin, what are we going to do now?" She kept her voice quiet because he did.

"We're going to keep going, Megan. I know this is hard. It's terrifying. But we will get through it. And we'll get through it because you're amazing."

"Thank you." She had more to say, but lost the words amidst the desire to just hug him and be held some more. Finally, she let him go and drew back. “What's the word on business?”

He took a breath. “If you're ready for business, I first have to ask your forgiveness for what I'm about to say.” Megan tensed, awaiting the bad news. Instead of just coming right out with it, Justin lowered himself to one knee in front of her. Another long breath, and he spoke loudly. "Your Majesty, General Inwar is awake and requests Your Majesty's presence."

Megan knew Justin didn't intend his emphasis on her dad's—her—her
dad's
title to be a figurative punch in the stomach. He'd at least tried not to make it a sucker-punch. Despite the effort on his part, it still hurt. She started to see the point in it, though, when she noticed some of the fae watching—watching her knight, calling her by the title and stating that one of the first things the General wanted... no, requested, was her presence. She did her best to look more authoritative. "Thank you."

Megan followed Justin towards the General's staging area. Within moments, Lani joined them, and Megan paused for another hug. Cassia joined not long after, moving along on a crutch. She held the procession up long enough to put a hand on Megan's shoulder, while Jude and Maxwell nuzzled their heads against Megan's legs. She offered her thanks and crouched down to spend a few moments hugging each cat, before finally standing and starting them moving towards the meeting again.

Healers were still tending to Inwar, working magic and more direct medicine simultaneously. His midsection was bandaged, but the most painful looking wound was an iron-burn wound on his sword-arm’s shoulder. A brownie was carefully drawing out a shard of iron from the injury.

Beyond a momentary wince, he barely reacted, issuing orders to sprites, pixies, and some of the soldiers and scouts attending him. He sent one of the scouting parties off on their mission and immediately turned to one of the healers.

"As soon as the next group of wounded are secure, start the trip to the castle,” he said. “I've got guards ready to go with each group, including scouts to sweep the way ahead. We'll keep moving the injured as we're able, and we'll send a few of the delegates with each. The sprites have already been sent to make sure An Teach Deiridh is ready to receive them."

The brownie nodded, and moved to pass the information on to others among the healers tending to other patients, while those working on the General set to binding his shoulder.

Inwar noticed Megan and her companions standing nearby, and Tiernan approaching with the most able of his own men. The General acknowledged each group with a nod and issued further commands to a few more sprites. By the time he was finished, Peadar and a portion of his usual crew joined them, most of them wounded, but still moving. As soon as they were around Inwar, he turned his full attention to Megan, even while the healers worked at tending to his injuries.

"My apologies for keeping you waiting." he offered to Megan, then, narrowing his eyes slightly, offered the same to Tiernan.

"We're going back to An Teach Deiridh?" Megan asked.

"It's more secure, and we seem to have our alliance. I've made certain to have a particularly tested guard to escort you back."

"You have a plan, then?" Tiernan asked.

"Everyone has seen the necessity first-hand. Some of my people will help oversee formal training while we secure our position. We'll have combined construction units fortifying An Teach Deiridh, and scholars will start work on locating everything on the Fomoire in the libraries, as well as bringing up what we can find from Murias."

"And the dead?" Tiernan asked.

Inwar was quiet for a few moments, before answering. "The Queen and the King will receive suitable memorials, of course. But all the rest will be returned home, or buried with honors, to whatever extent their remains are recoverable. All of them."

For a moment, it almost looked like Tiernan was going to say thank you, but instead said "Then it sounds like a good plan." Given the previous relationship between them, Megan figured any agreement to go with the ljosalfar's plans, from Tiernan, would come across as much the same as thanks. She certainly had nothing better.

"Hope you're ready to go, Princess," Peadar said, "We have a long trip."

Justin looked ready to correct him, but Inwar spoke first. “Of particular priority,” he told Peadar, “is to get the children to the Ballroom. Summer must come. The Fimbulwinter will be made to wait at least an additional year. Her Majesty deserves that and more.”

After travelling across large tracts of mystic real estate, they'd arrived with time to spare. Time to get out of the public eye. Time to let it hit her.

As soon as they'd reached An Teach Deiridh, she'd retreated to her room, with Justin, Ashling, the Count, and Jude staying close. Cassia had had to return to the care of the healers, and Lani grudgingly agreed to go with her father to survey the castle's defenses as they stood.

Justin sat with one arm around Megan, snuggling without speaking. The pixie remained remarkably quiet, nestled in between Megan and the Count, while the small group just watched the moving picture on Megan's wall for a long while.

Now and then, someone would come in offering condolences, which she always offered back—just about everyone had lost someone close to them. Other times a pixie or sprite fluttered into the room, relaying news and updated reports. Megan nodded her understanding each time, then let them go about their business, returning to watching the leaves and butterflies drift about her painting.

Expecting another of the tiny messengers, she was surprised when Jack-in-Irons came to visit instead. Justin tensed, but said nothing. Megan got the idea that her knight wasn't about to trust the ogres, despite their help in the battle. After the first encounter, and her father's negotiations with Jack at the table, she didn't blame him. She finally turned her full attention away from the painting, nodding to the ogre. "Thank you for fighting beside my father."

"He was a great king,” the ogre said. “He got things a lot of folks missed. Came to pay respects."

"And to make sure I was going to keep my father's promise to you," Megan said.

Jack grinned. "I think maybe you get some things too."

Megan managed a small smile. "I learn. Where is the cauldron?"

"We kept it secure, brought it along with your group."

Megan quirked a brow. "You didn't just take it?"

"Like I said, your father got a lot of things. Made sure it didn't work that way."

"Not that you didn't try," Megan said.

Jack nodded. "He'd have been disappointed if we hadn't."

"I'll keep my father's word," Megan said. "Keep yours to me... and to mine..." she said, recalling her father's words in the Ballroom that first Halloween. "Fight for me, see this war through, and the cauldron is yours. But Jack, after we win, and you get it back, take better care of it. If I have to recover it for you again, the price will just go up."

The ogre's grin remained, and he bowed deep. "You have my word."

"And I suspect that means more than I would have thought, back when we first met."

"You bet, Prin—" Jack paused, considering, then amended his words. "Your Majesty."

After Jack left, Megan started moving a little more, pacing the room until Lani and Kerr arrived. Kerr shuffled a little, then managed the little bow-curtsey. "Your Majesty. I'm afraid it's not much, what with a busy staff, medicines to brew, and all the guests coming in, but I've prepared some of your favorites for after the dance."

Megan hugged the brownie. "Thank you so much for everything."

The hug lasted until Kerr sighed. “We...we should let you get ready,” Kerr said, looking from Megan to Justin.

Justin blushed and retreated to wait outside the room for a while. Kerr went along, but Lani insisted, “Come back in a few minutes. You're much better with hair.”

Lani helped Megan get the temperature right on the bathroom waterfall. Megan always had trouble with that, possibly because it was a waterfall.

“
So,” Lani said. “There are some fancy dresses in your closet. You want to go with one of those?”

“
Why?” Megan responded. “It's not like I have to return the armor halfway through anything.”

Megan pulled on a clean t-shirt and jeans before heading for the briarmail. Unlike the first time she’d ever worn it, when it curled around her, it didn't lift her to her father's height. Instead it conformed to her frame. Megan practiced retracting the helmet from her head, and Lani called Kerr back in to style her hair.

Justin rejoined them outside the room, ready to accompany Megan to the Ballroom as her bodyguard. She almost hugged him again, then remembered the armor had thorns just in time. She willed the suit to pull away so she could step out of it, noting that it reformed behind her, still Megan-sized. She gave Justin a long hug, which he returned.

Kerr finally spoke up again, albeit quietly and tentatively. “I have to get back to the kitchen.”

“
Thank you, Kerr,” Megan said, not letting go of Justin. She almost wasn't sure she could stand alone.

“
And we have to go to the Dance,” Lani said.

“
I know,” Megan said, but she didn't move.

“
Megan,” Justin said quietly. “We have to keep going. I love you, and we
will
keep going.”

“
I love you too,” Megan whispered. She stepped back into entwining briarmail, and on they went.

They passed the art and the thornvines, Unseelie as ever, so much more familiar now. They passed the windows, which let Megan see troops drilling outside and sprites and pixies racing to and from the castle. The hallways were almost empty aside from her procession, and the occasional rushing messenger.

Tiernan waited with three of his guards, two of them heavily bandaged, and using their spears to help them walk, but showing him all the loyalty they ever had. His suit was mostly repaired, although a few spiders still clung to the front, restoring the silk. He bowed, if not that low, and let her enter the Ballroom first.

There was the throne, growing out of the stone same as always, like it didn't know he was gone. It was a silly thought—almost. Everyone had told her from the beginning that Faerie places had opinions and that the Ballroom cared about blood. She sat, then rose again as the music started—a gnomish drummer setting the slow beat as his sole companion in the room picked up the harp—and Tiernan entered.

Megan rose from the throne and progressed in gradual 'hesitation steps' to the middle of the room to face off with Tiernan.

He bowed to her, then thought to ask, "So, you know the dance?"

Megan nodded. "I had to do it once." She paused, closing her eyes and picturing the moves, before a realization hit her. "But that was from the other side, I guess. So this will be a little weird. But you know it?"

He nodded. "I watched it a thousand times before..."

"Yeah, before," she agreed. She held up a hand. He lifted his, holding it close, though the pair never touched. They stopped talking and focused on the slow, small steps.

It wasn't the armies that made it real for Megan. It wasn't the outside sounds of weapons repairs and medical triage that rang over the music. It wasn't the abstract knowledge that Fomoire stragglers could strike at even this place at any minute. No, what told her that war had truly come to Faerie—real war, not just mock battles or rivalries she'd never understand, but a war for everything—was that there was a party—literally the Event of the Season—and the two of them were dancing in an empty ballroom.