A Thief of Nightshade (36 page)

That knowledge and the fury that accompanied it gave her new strength. She glared at the Queen. “Given was in your home until she was five years old. I hardly believe that you woke up suddenly one morning to decide that she wasn’t worth keeping. Tell me, who is it that she reminds you of? Did you love her father?”

In a move equally startling as it was impossible, Saralia walked through the ice bars as though they were phantom columns. Aubrey readied herself for the strike of the Queen’s outstretched hand, but instead Saralia pulled her delicate fingers in to a shaking fist and held it in the air.

“You know nothing,” Saralia hissed.

Tears formed in her eyes but did not fall.

“You arrogantly assume that you know even the slightest thing of me. I was wrong, you aren’t stubborn. You’re naïve.”

Aubrey prepared to fight back as Saralia’s hand shot forward, but instead of striking her, the Queen grazed Aubrey’s cheek with an almost tender stroke, a tear finally spilling over the Queen’s dark lashes and onto the snowy white skin of her face. It glistened as it fell and shattered with the tinkling of a glass shard as it hit the floor. “You don’t remember Brooke or Samantha, do you?”

Those names ... they sound so familiar ...

“Saralia, I know what your Time Wraith has done to my memory. These games are good for nothing but your own amusement.”

“And your little brother Harrington, what about him? You couldn’t have forgotten him, could you?” Saralia’s eyes darkened further. “You could have stayed in your world, where you and the Oran would have been safe, where you would have had your family and friends. You chose to take the risks you took, to come to Avalar. Now you’ll die in Cedrick’s possession, completely unaware of who you are or why you’re here. Though something that is no longer human can’t truly die. So you should be thanking me.

Or rather my daughter and Ian, they’re the ones who told Cedrick to come to my court. He’ll be here soon enough.” She turned then and crossed back through the bars to leave the dungeon without a second glance at Aubrey.

Aubrey crumpled to the floor, a strangled sob escaping her lips before the pain made her bite her tongue. She was about to tuck her hands against her chest when she caught sight of her wedding rings and with the little bit of strength she had left, she pulled them off and gripped them tightly in her right hand, squeezing until she was sure she’d drawn blood.

And a song came to mind then, the very one she’d sung in the garden, the one Jullian had begged her to sing for him; except this time she didn’t care who heard her, the guards, the walls, none of it

mattered anymore. So she laid her head back, closed her eyes and sang.

Jullian had already closed his eyes for the night. Unsettled by the evening’s events, he’d dreamed of foreign things, images that were accompanied by emotions he didn’t fully understand and when he awoke in the dark in a cold sweat, the feelings lingering. Until he realized what really woke him.

He sat up in bed, throwing his sheets to the side and swung his feet to the ground. It echoed through the icy corridors like the whisper of ghosts and sent chills skittering across his skin. Yet the sound brought an aching sweetness with it that he felt all the way to his bones, like a hot drink on a cold day. He threw on his clothes and boots, unsure of what he was going to do next.

He braced himself against the door frame and paused before stepping into the hallway, his heart hammering in his chest.

Who are you?

The urgency grew then, forcing his feet to move faster and carry him in the direction of the singing. He circled down the spiral stairs that led into the lower portions of the keep and down one lonely hall after another. It seemed that no matter how far he traveled, the sound never grew stronger or weaker, as though it were coming from inside his head. He stopped again, breathless, as the voice grew

choked, the words weighted with sorrow and though he could scarcely comprehend it, it was familiar: He knew the words and in his mind he spoke them as they were sung.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Remember me to one who lives there. He once was a true love of mine.

Oberon’s hand shook as he traced the outline of a unicorn’s mane, carved of Corry wood, on the far left wall of his throne room. It was at that exact spot that everything he’d ever known had come crashing down on him. It was there that he’d learned of Given’s birth and it was there that he’d vowed to do everything in his power and beyond to save her from his sister’s cruelty.

The room had taken five mortal lifetimes to complete. Made entirely of wood, each piece hand-sculpted and rendered with excruciating detail, each spiraled column wound with magic, it represented everything that was and everything that should have been in Avalar. Man would be surprised to learn that he too was depicted among the Fae and the animals, his sorrows drawn and brought to life beside that of every other creature who called this once bright and brilliant place home.

The ceiling had been designed so that the war bells, unheard for over a thousand years or more, would echo loud and clear.

Oberon drew in a staggered breath, knowing what was to come, grateful that he’d insisted on a moment’s solitude, when he heard the toll of the first bell. The faces, bent in anger or grief, seemed to come alive around him then; children screamed in fear and the whole of Avalar grew as one in their penchant for power and wealth; the Fae desperately clinging to life and Lyr, gave no regard to Man or Beast, just as Man and Beast had given no regard to each other and thus were enemies, not allies, on the battlefield. It was the exploitation of that single weakness that had allowed the Fae to overcome Avalar; that had allowed him to overcome Avalar. As the second and third bells joined the first, Oberon pressed his

weathered hand to his mouth and wept.

The Oran flared to life, illuminating their surroundings in brilliant blue light. Given looked at Aislinn with hope, but didn’t speak.

“Whatever you’re doing, Aubrey, keep doing it,” he rasped. “Don’t stop!”

Given’s eyes watered as she pulled it from his metal sleeve. “He’s waking up, isn’t he?”

Aislinn was almost too afraid to touch it. With shaking fingers, he laid his palm over the Oran, closed his eyes and was instantly overwhelmed with emotion, so much so that he couldn’t speak or

move.

Jullian’s head spun and his surroundings grew sickly known to him; the ice, the darkness lit by unnatural flame—Fae flame.

His gaze turned down to his clothes, the ornate leather belt, his handmade boots. He felt the fabric of his shirt, gently touched the stitching and the nacreous buttons. It reminded him of something he’d once held in his hands: pearls—a bracelet and earrings.

Tell him to find me an acre of land.

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

The sound of footsteps sent him into the only corner he could find, where he watched two female Sidhe pass. Armed with swords, clad in the armor of guards, they didn’t seem to hear what he was hearing at all. The only place he could be was Avalar, judging by his initial observations and now the Sidhe, but how?

This certainly didn’t feel like all of the other dreams.

Between saltwater and the sea strands. Then he’ll be a true love of mine.

He fought again for breath as panic seized him: He wore the snowy white garb of the Fae King, walked the icy halls of the Winter Keep in the Valley of Neath.

He wasn’t dreaming. He’d been brought back to Avalar and he hadn’t been brought back alone.

Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather. Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

And gather it all in a bunch of heather. Then he’ll be a true love of mine.

He pressed the heel of his hand to his chest, clutching as if to hold on to a name, a face to go with the voice. He opened his mouth, feeling it on the tip of his tongue.

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?

Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.

Remember me to one who lives there. He once was...

And just as suddenly as it had begun, the

singing

dissolved

into

sobs—

disappearing then into the still and abrupt silence of night. Jullian leaned with his back against the wall and rubbed his temples. He’d lost his train of thought and suddenly couldn’t say why he’d gotten out of bed.

“THERE, THERE. DON’T CRY.“

Aubrey woke to the feel of a tiny hand on her head and Lipsey’s whispered voice. She must have been crying in her sleep.

“Lipsey! How did you find me? How close are we to sunrise?”

“I watched where they took you, but there are guards everywhere. It’s taken me hours and hours to get these.” He thrust his hands out, filled with a loaded key ring.

“But I don’t see a keyhole on this cell like I do on the other ones. Maybe it’s a magic lock. Or, maybe I got the wrong set.

Maybe they have more than one prison here? Too bad you’re not small like me, I fit between the bars. Sunrise is near ...

maybe an hour or two away.”

“I watched Saralia walk through those same bars and I don’t recall them using a key when they threw me in here.

The door just kind of ... appeared. Gives me the impression that those keys won’t work.” Her breath hitched as a wave of pain swept over her. She clenched her teeth until it passed.