A Trace of Moonlight (12 page)

The hot water stung the myriad cuts and bruises upon my skin. Gingerly, I sat in the small copper basin, my limbs folded up to maximize the water coverage. The tent I was in was blissfully empty of company, as was my mind, thoughts of the last part of my journey drifting into a blurry haze.

True to his word, Jimmy had indeed found Talivar, sending me on ahead via a turnip cart pulled by a pair of fanged llamas. Our arrival first alerted Kitsune to the elf’s weakened condition.

Although the remnants of the traveling kingdom were much as I remembered them, an air of change swept about the mishmash of tents and vendor stands. The folk moved with a sense of purpose, a hint of excitement buzzing through the crowds. Last time they’d been preparing themselves for a possible battle against
the same daemons who’d invaded Faerie, but this was different . . .

Perhaps it was only that the Queen had finally reopened the CrossRoads, but it felt like there was something more to it.

Pride.

Not that I’d had the energy to ask. At the moment, I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to acknowledge Kitsune’s presence when she had emerged from her tent to meet me, wrapped in a brilliant sapphire kimono. Her fox ears had swiveled at me curiously as I explained the situation, the fathomless black depths of her gaze resting on me with quiet concern.

She’d clapped her hands in unspoken command and I had let myself be led away, even as Talivar was taken in the other direction. Some part of me should probably have been worried at this, but I’d chosen to throw my lot in here. What else could I do but trust her?

So here I was, attempting to clean myself up—with a modicum of success. As warm as the water was, I had the sudden urge to remove myself from it, the soft robes laid out for me beckoning. Dunking my head beneath the water one last time, I emerged already half-asleep as I slipped into the robe. I barely managed to towel off my hair before I lay down on the stuffed pallet, the robe only partially drawn closed. A moment later, I slithered into welcome oblivion.

The scent of ginger permeated the darkness with a familiar tang and I knew Kitsune was nearby. I cracked an eye to see her shadowed silhouette, golden in the flickering candlelight as she stared unblinking. Muscle cramps seized my leg as I stretched, and I bit down a
yelp. Given the last few days, I couldn’t really wonder at the charley horse. I slammed my foot down on the ground, the heel pulled back to try to relax it.

Kitsune looked at me curiously as the pain subsided. I drew the robes together about my shoulders.

I sat up straighter on the other side of the low table she knelt behind. “Thank you for taking us in. How is Talivar?”

“Talivar is fine. I have cleansed the poison from his body and he recovers swiftly.” She slid a steaming mug over to me. “This time you will drink it,” she said firmly.

“Yes.” I’d refused to take any form of sustenance from her when we’d met this way before. At the time, I’d no reason to trust her word, though if I had, things might have turned out differently. By accepting a meal from her, I’d be under her protection in an informal sort of guest friendship.

At this point I’d take every bit of protection I could.

I sipped the tea, sighing as a delicate warmth crested over my skin, followed by a twist of irony in my gut. I could only hope Kitsune’s intentions were more honorable than the Queen’s.

The flavor was light, with a hint of vanilla. “It’s good.”

“Of course.” She sounded mildly offended but I smiled at her in thanks.

“I just wanted to say how grateful I am that—”

One smooth hand rose in warning. “Do not thank me for this, Abby, for I do not do these things for you.”

I sat on my heels, stung by her brusque tone.

“I told you once before that a cure for the Faerie Queen would not be welcomed nor sought after, and yet I procured it, upon your request.”

“Hardly out of the goodness of your heart,” I pointed out dryly. “I seem to recall there was a fair amount of contraband involved as part of the trade on my side.”

She nodded. “Yes. And for that I am grateful. Such a gift was beyond measure, but I’m not sure it will be worth it in the end. Better, perhaps, if the Queen had died, or been forced to step down.”

I shrugged at her. No matter what I’d tried to do since becoming involved with the OtherFolk it had almost always been wrong—though I could admit I probably wouldn’t be in this mess if I’d let things alone.

Or you could be dead,
my inner voice reminded me snidely.

I did die,
I reminded it,
so
shut
up
.

“Fine. I fucked up. What is it you expect me to do? I’m under a geas and that limits my options.” I set down the mug a little more forcefully than I intended, the tea sloshing over the sides.

“I would not undo it, even if I could.” Kitsune dabbed at the spilled tea with a small cloth.

“That’s a hell of thing to say,” I snapped, my fingers trembling in sudden anger. “And why not?”

“Interfering in another’s destiny is never wise,” she replied calmly. “This knot you must untangle for yourself.” Her golden eyes narrowed and I shivered beneath her scrutiny. “Or not, as the case may be.”

“How very Zen of you.” Part of me wanted to rage at her about the unfairness of it all, but what was the point? She’d already made her choice. I was on my own.

My hand traced over the bruised ring at my neck. “It seems you were right about me not being the Key’s true owner, but I think I’ve paid the price for that.”

She took my hand in hers, rolling it over to expose
the cut on my palm. A hot flush swept over my cheeks as she stared at the crescent-shaped nick. Trust Talivar to have put an artistic flare into it. At least it would be a pretty scar.

“Where is he?” I was tired of playing games.

“Would you truly bind yourself to him? Wed him in truth?” Her ears flattened for a moment. “Would you share his destiny?”

I swallowed. No lying here. But I wasn’t sure I knew the truth. “I will do what I must to make things right.
Whatever
that is,” I added a moment later before reaching into my hair to find Ion’s bells. They jingled as I untied them, cradling them in my palm.

The fox-woman didn’t touch them, but her mouth curved into a crooked smile. “The thread of destiny weaves as it wills, I see.” She sighed and patted my cheek. “You have a heart big enough for them both, Abby, but sometimes that’s not enough.”

Before I could ask what she meant, she pulled something out of a loose bag at her waist and slid it across the table.

My enchanted iPod.

I picked it up with a rueful smile. “Got everything you needed, I take it?”

“In a manner of speaking. We weren’t able to replicate it exactly, but close enough.” A frown played about her lips. “I know you said it had an infinite play-list, but it only ever seemed to play Pink Floyd’s ‘Wish You Were Here.’ ”

“Stubborn thing.” I pressed shuffle and the little device immediately began to chug along, AC/DC’s “Back in Black” popping up on the screen. “Well, I’m glad it was useful.”

“Exceptionally.” Her face became sly. “We’ve nearly
managed to get firearms to work. We’ve even started pairing up with military humans . . . Special Forces? We find they make excellent TouchStones to some of the more . . . martial OtherFolk. We call them TouchStone Tactical.”

I raised a brow, trying to envision OtherFolk Navy SEALs or Green Berets. “They’ll be a nightmare.”

“I certainly hope so,” the fox-woman agreed. “They aren’t ready yet, but with enough time and training, we’ll have the most formidable army out there.” She stood gracefully. “Get dressed, please. There are things we must attend to this night. Talivar awaits you.”

As Kitsune slipped through the tent flap I realized her presence seemed diminished. I couldn’t help but think I’d said the wrong thing.

I fisted the bells for a minute. “What am I supposed to do?”

If I was expecting an answer, I didn’t get one. In the end I rewove them back into a tiny braid and found a simple gown of soft blue silk that had been laid down beside the table. Thankful for the lack of buttons and findings, I wriggled into it and smoothed the scoop of the neckline.

“Should match the bruises perfectly,” I muttered, finger combing the loose strands of my hair. Kitsune’s words had worried me and I wished Talivar and I had not been separated, if only to keep me in the loop.

I bound my still-damp hair into a simple bun. I had no pencils for it this time, but I found a strip of silk to tie it all together.

When I emerged from my tent, I realized it was evening; the deep purple of oncoming night streaked into the fading sea of red haze. The energy swirled by me in electric anticipation. I could taste it on the air, and in
the way the people moved around me, hurrying with a single-minded purpose I could only guess at.

I caught a few furtive glances here and there, but I was ignored for the most part—a fact I was rather grateful for. I’d been the center of attention enough times to know I didn’t particularly like it.

I headed toward the largest source of light, my feet carefully balanced on the wooden boards laid across the deeper ruts. As I rounded the corner, a sharp tug on my skirt stopped me abruptly as I was pulled back a few steps.

“Abby?”

I relaxed at Talivar’s voice, turning to see him half-hidden beside an empty apple cart. He was dressed in sable, his vest cut neatly to the frame of his hips, and his hair hung loose and wild about his face. He hadn’t shaved, and the scruff on his chin leant him a rakish appearance that I found not at all unpleasant.

“Trying out for
The Pirates of Penzance
?”

His mouth twitched, but there was a tightness about his good eye that belied the humor.

“What’s going on?”

“Something that should have happened a long time ago. It will all become clear in a few minutes.” He cupped my cheek, one finger brushing my jaw. “I will ask nothing of you that you aren’t willing to give.”

“Gee, it sounds so reassuring when you say it like that. I’m already technically your wife at the moment. What else could I possibly have to give you?”

“You and I both know the answer to that,” he murmured.

I glanced down at his leg. “How’s the injury?”

“Better. Kitsune saw to it. I’ll be taking it easy for a
few days, but it’s much improved.” He shook his head. “So much that I owe you. Come on.”

I frowned at him. The prince usually wasn’t one to drop such cryptic remarks and I didn’t like it. But there was no more time to ask questions as he whisked me forward, his hand gripping mine tightly. It was less a possessive motion than a seeking of solace.

A large crowd had gathered in a semicircle around an elegant bamboo table. The people of the Barras stood silent as we approached, strange in their myriad forms and races. They gleamed with a different sort of beauty than the Sidhe, limbs too long, ears too large, eyes too slanted and dark. Delicate wings, insectoid faces, animal ears, and pointed teeth. Row upon row of them stood in a muddle of tattered clothing and ragtag weapons, cloaked in an eerie elegance.

The Unseelie Court had been greatly diminished several hundred years ago. That Talivar had had something to do with it was fairly obvious, although he’d never given me the straight story. I knew it had something to do with his father and his own crippled anatomy, but I’d never learned more than the little bits Talivar had mentioned.

On the other hand, by the time I knew the Barras existed, I’d had far larger things on my mind than dredging up the past.

But here we were.

Kitsune stood formally at the far side of the table, her serene face as unreadable as always. Her ebony hair fell like black silk to her waist, her ears pricked delicately toward us. Phineas sat on the end of the table closest to me, troubled. I hadn’t seen where they’d taken him, but he’d gotten the Emerald City treatment as well.
His coat shone like new-fallen snow, the short nub of his horn barely peeking through the fluffy mane.

Jimmy Squarefoot gave me a lopsided grin from where he stood, his snout twitching comically. My hand slipped from Talivar’s as I approached the pig-man hoping to give him a more proper greeting. Grunting something unintelligible at him before crawling into his wagon fell a little short of manners and I owed him more than that.