A Trace of Moonlight (33 page)

“Funny thing about Faerie babies,” Charlie said bitterly. “Apparently they take on the appearance and nature of what and who they’re raised with. It’s why the Fae are so keen to keep their children in Faerie . . . and why Changelings are so rare these days.”

“But Benjamin is half angel,” I reminded her. “Maybe he’s not subject to the same rules?”

“What difference does it make?” A scowl darkened her face. “His proper mother’s here now. Come to take him home.”

I put a sympathetic arm around her shoulder. “Maybe you should talk to Robert about it. Some sort of joint custody arrangement?”

She wiped at her eyes. “It’s not fair. She just left him with you . . . and didn’t come back. What kind of mother does that?” A soft scuff sounded behind us and I glanced over my shoulder to see Moira standing there, Benjamin in her arms. The toddler squirmed when he saw Charlie, a grin spreading over his face.

“The kind of mother I am,” Moira said regretfully.

Charlie covered her mouth with her hands. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

The Fae pointed at her ears. “There’s not much that slips past these, I’m afraid. But no, I didn’t know you were here.” She glanced at me. “I only came to assess the health of the Door Maker. I hear she is doing . . . well?”

“She’s getting cleaned up,” I said cautiously. “We’ll have a better idea after that.”

“Indeed.” Moira shifted the wriggly little boy in her arms. “When this is over, I will be reclaiming my son.”

I caught a warning in the tone of her words, even as I stepped forward to put myself between the two women, but Charlie thrust by her, her own arms outstretched. “Fine words from a woman who’s done nothing but foist her child off on others,” she snapped. Hurt leaked out everywhere. “It’s not fair. You have an affair with
my
man and then when your baby becomes an inconvenience you leave him behind . . . and now that I’ve . . . that
we’ve
become attached to him, you’re taking him away. Benjamin’s a person, not a thing.”

Moira drew herself up, but whatever she was about to say was drowned out in Benjamin’s sudden wail. His face turned between the two women, mouth trembling in confusion. Both women gave him nearly identical stricken looks. I took that as my sign to retreat.

Robert shook his head and sat down as I emerged into the sitting area. “I think I fucked up.”

“Well, yeah . . . but I think they need to work it out between them.”

“No matter what I say here, I’m going to be in the wrong, aren’t I, Sparky?” He gave the kitchen a rueful smile. “I love them both. Not in the same way, but still.”

“A regular metaphysical Brady Bunch, that’s us.” I
shrugged at him. “Odd thing to be arguing about now, though.”

“It’s been brewing for a while,” he admitted. “Charlie’s really attached to him, and he’s completely bonded with her. It seems cruel to take him away from her now.”

I nodded. I knew a little about their infertility issues, but I didn’t know if it was because they were different races or if the problem was more of the mundane sort; it wasn’t really any of my business, anyway.

Benjamin’s wails shut off abruptly, echoed by feminine cooing. I sighed inwardly. At least they weren’t fighting over him.

“It’s been really tough for Moira too,” I murmured. “Sort of the ultimate in career versus family . . . only most of us don’t have to deal with an insane mother determined to bring down her kingdom with her madness.”

“Or the end of the world . . .” he mused.

“That too.”

We shared a glance and a soft chuckle. How things had changed since a few scant months ago.

Phin jumped off the couch. “Speaking of which, we should probably work on a way to get us out of this situation. Babies are nice and all, but unless the little booger has Magic-Tree-Crap-n-Gro fertilizer in his diaper, we’ve got other things to focus on, yes?”

“Yeah. Has anyone heard from Talivar?” I craned my head into the kitchen, reluctant to have to break up Charlie and Moira’s one chance to hash things out. “Moira? Any word from your brother?”

She peered around the corner, her green eyes gleaming with good humor. “The Wild Hunt is still led by him . . . and still fruitless. But there are OtherFolk
forces on the move now, and not ones I can control. The plight of the Tree has attracted those who might attempt to take advantage of the situation.”

“Jesus Christ. Because my life isn’t fucking complicated enough. Is there anything being royalty
does
allow you to control? Because to be honest, it sure as hell doesn’t seem like it.”

Moira gave me a wry smile. “There’s a reason for those tales of debauched younger brothers, you know. Wishful thinking on both sides, I think.”

“It’s a fucking crock of shit is what it is.”

“There are times when I’ve thought so.” She strode out of the kitchen, Charlie at her side with Benjamin on her hip. Charlie’s nose was red but she looked cheerful enough.

“I take it you’ve reached an accord,” I said dryly.

Moira gave a cautious nod. “In light of these events, I shall allow Benjamin to stay here for now . . . on the condition he is fostered within Talivar’s Court when he comes of age.” Her mouth twitched. “And summer holidays belong to me.”

I glanced at Charlie and she nodded, Benjamin’s arms clutched tightly around her neck. “We both agreed. It would be the best thing for him.” Her eyes darted to Robert, something hollow written in their depths. “And for us, long term.”

The unwritten message was clear. Charlie was mortal and already close to forty. Her lifespan would be gone and over soon enough, and for a moment I wondered if that was the only reason Moira had really agreed to it.

I didn’t know the aging process of mixed Path babies . . . or even how old angels or Fae really lived, given enough time, but there was a damned good
chance Benjamin would barely remember the woman holding him right now.

I glanced up as I realized the room had grown quiet. Melanie stood at the door of her bedroom, soft and clean, her damp hair curling into ringlets. Her face had all the color of a bedsheet, but her eyes held a tired gleam of amusement. And triumph.

Behind her, Nobu loomed like a multihued shadow, his hair also tousled and dripping. I cocked a brow at him and the barest hint of a smile cracked the corner of his mouth.

I immediately made a beeline for the kitchen to pour Mel some orange juice and a made her a few slices of toast. Light stuff, given how far out of it she’d been.

When I returned, she was holding court from a seat on the couch, Nobu beside her. She accepted the food gratefully and proceeded to nibble at it as she absorbed the story of what had been happening in her absence. She was remarkably calm, especially given the news about her mother, but that was between her and Nobu.

“So what do you think I can do?” she asked finally.

“The Wild Magic,” Moira said immediately. “We need you to try to keep the Tree alive, to help it sprout new branches. We have no other options at this point . . . and things—”

Her words cut off at the sudden knock at the door. We all froze. Robert had indicated this place was guarded tighter than a nest of hornets with machine guns, but we’d underestimated Maurice several times over by now.

Nodding at Nobu, the angel silently slid over to the door, as Charlie quickly retreated into the kitchen, Benjamin tight in her arms.

“Who is it?” Robert demanded, one hand lightly resting on the doorknob.

“Kitsune,” came the answer. “And I suggest you open this fucking door before the world ends.”

Whoa.
The fox-woman rarely raised her voice about anything. Quickly, I waved at them to open the door, revealing a terrifyingly blood-covered visage. Her ears flattened when she saw me, striding into the room without a thought for the gore-smeared footprints she left behind.

Robert stared at her. “What the hell is going on?”

“A gods-bedamned war,” she snapped, her lip curling when she saw Moira. “And while you’re all in here playing touchy-feely with everyone’s wanking feelings, the rest of us are being slaughtered.”

W
e made a solemn and ragtag procession along the CrossRoads.

Melanie had wanted to make us a Door all the way to the Tree, but Nobu wouldn’t hear of it. She needed to save her strength for what was to come, and time issues or not, I agreed.

Kitsune paced beside me and Moira, Robert and Nobu flanking us on either side. I held Phin in my arms so he could get a better view of things, but behind us trailed Melanie and Brandon, Charlie and Benjamin, Didi, and everyone else who had been holding vigil inside Melanie’s apartment. Mixes of Paths and alignments, but it was a silent crowd overall.

Brystion was directly behind me. I had expected him to attempt to reabsorb his power when Kitsune spelled everything out for us, but he stubbornly clung to his humanity, even though he was clearly weakening with every passing hour.

The CrossRoads stretched out before us, the cobblestones seeming less glittery than before, the edges soft and blurry.

Like they were fading.

The clash of swords sounded from over the hill as we marched into Faerie proper. We crested the ridge to the valley where Eildon Tree stood, its blackened branches sticking out like brittle bones.

My father sat at the base of the Tree, the sound of his harp echoing over the cries of battle. I exchanged a glance with Mel. Wild Magic, but he was clearly struggling to keep the Tree from slagging into dust.

Moira’s nostrils flared as she saw the carnage, her warriors encircling the bedraggled group from the Barras. And on the outskirts, a familiar row of daemons was readying for another attack. “Things were in a steady state when I left. I don’t understand.”

The fox-woman let out a bark of laughter and pointed at the scene unfolding before us. “Not anymore. Three Paths converge upon the remains of the One Tree in bloody battle,” she intoned formally.

“That’s ridiculous. What could they possibly think this would accomplish?” I whirled on Nobu. “You have to stop this. Get out there and at least try to stall them!”

“I’ve chosen my side,” he said dryly. “They won’t listen to me, but I shall see if I can at least discover something useful.” His dark wings unfurled, launching him skyward.

Robert’s face darkened. I followed his gaze and realized dozens of winged shadows sailed overhead.

“Angels,” Charlie murmured, holding an increasingly squirmy Benjamin.

“If Heaven has chosen to involve itself in this . . .” Robert’s eyes sparked an eerie blue. He placed a soft kiss upon Charlie’s brow. “Wait here.” He disappeared in a flurry of pale feathers, streaking toward his fellows.

I looked down at Phin, who had gone strangely silent. “We’re pretty fucked, aren’t we?”

“Yup.” He sounded weary, as though his usual sarcastic nature couldn’t be bothered to manifest. “Let’s see how Thomas is managing. The sooner we get Melanie installed with the Tree, the better off we’ll be.”

Kitsune led us toward the ranks of elves. Moira made a quick wave of her hand, and the warriors parted around us, closing ranks as soon as we passed.

A familiar snout greeted us once we hit the inner circle. Jimmy Squarefoot’s broad mouth split into a sagging grin when he saw us. “Absinthe. We was afraid ye would not come.”

I hugged him tight with one arm, ignoring his surprised grunt. “If I had known, I would have been here sooner.” Not that I had any idea of what the hell I was supposed to do, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

Kitsune laid a hand on my shoulder. “Take the Door Maker to your father. Let them sort out what is to be done.”

I nodded, my arm slipping through Mel’s. A frail trembling shook her wrist as we approached Thomas. The Harper’s head drooped with exhaustion, but his fingers stubbornly continued to ply the strings. Blood dripped upon the ground with the steady beat of crimson rain.

I knelt beside him and laid a hand on his brow.

Phineas shook his head in a warning, one hoof digging into my thigh. “He’s tranced himself out. He’ll have to be brought out of it gracefully.”

Behind me, the sound of the violin case creaked and I knew Melanie was getting ready. She hadn’t had
much time to tune her instrument before we left, but a moment later the hum of her own brand of Wild Music soared around us thick and strong.

A rushing sigh washed over the battlefield, the very air seeming to still as the power of her music rolled over the Tree. I glanced up to see her chin thrust out with its usual arrogance and knew then that I was right.

Melanie would burn herself out to save us . . . and gladly so.

Our eyes met for the briefest of moments and then she closed them, the sad swell of “Nearer My God to Thee” breathing its way from the silver-hued violin.

My father’s fingers stilled.

“Now, Abby,” Phineas murmured. “Talk to him now.”

“Dad?” My fingers curved over his wrist, the heat from his skin like fire. His blue eyes flickered open at me, but they weren’t seeing anything in this realm, surely. They were feverish and hot and I knew once he came to himself, the pain would be exquisite.