Jack, the giant-killer (26 page)

“Always sticking your nose in where it didn’t have to go,” Kerevan said.

“Always wanting to help those in trouble,” Bhruic corrected him.

Kerevan shrugged. “Different ways of saying the same thing—that’s all.”

“I wanted to believe in you, Jacky Rowan,” Bhruic went on. “Truly I did. But there was too much at stake. If it had been just myself, I would have taken the chance. But there was all of Kinrowan to think of as well.”

“So now you’re going and leaving me with”—she held up the deed to the Tower—“with this.”

Bhruic nodded.

“But Samhaine night’s still coming—and Kinrowan needs its Gruagagh.”

“The Laird’s daughter will be recovered enough by then, and we don’t have the Unseelie Court to worry about—at least not this year. They’ll grow strong again, they always do, but it will take time.”

“But there’s still got to be a gruagagh…”

“I thought a Jack such as you would be more than enough to take my place,” Bhruic said.

“But
I
don’t have any magics.”

“Well, now,” Kerevan said. “You’ve at least nine wally-stanes, and if you’re sparing with them, and use your noggin a bit, you should do fine.”

“But…”

“Oh, just think,” Kate said. “Your own house. I think that’s wonderful.”

“But it’s so big,” Jacky protested half-heartedly. She caught a smile pass between Bhruic and

Kerevan and knew what they were thinking: She wanted to live here. She wanted to be Kinrowan’s Jack. She didn’t ever want to not know the magic of Faerie. They were right.

“If it’s too big for you,” Kate said, “then I’ll move in with you. I’m not too proud to invite myself.”

“So’s it going to be a commune already?” Jacky asked. Her gaze flitted from Finn to Arkan.

“Not me,” Finn said. “I’ve already got a snug little place just down the way from here, but I’ll be dropping by for a hot cuppa from time to time. And there’s always that comfortable perch in your tree between the Tower’s garden and Learg Green—a fine place for a hob. You’ll see me there often enough.”

“I’m thinking of getting myself a wagon and pony,”

Arkan said, “and travelling some again. It’s been years since I’ve seen the old haunts and Moddy here could use a new view or two.”

It wasn’t hard to see that they were already an item, Jacky thought. And speaking of items… shyer now, her gaze moved to Eilian. She was still attracted to the Lairdling, but wasn’t sure how much of that was just her rebounding from Will and latching onto the first available—and gorgeous, she added to herself, let’s admit it—fellow that came along.

Eilian smiled and lifted the hair at the back of his neck where the braids his Billy Blind had plaited hung.

“I’ve one left,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to bring more trouble to you—I don’t doubt you’ve seen enough to last a lifetime. But if there’s room, I’d like to stay, at least till you’re settled in.”

“You see?” Bhruic said. “It’s all settled.”

“How come everybody settles things for me, but me?” Jacky wanted to know.

Bhruic smiled, but it was a serious smile. “I think that you settled everything yourself, Jacky Rowan, in a way that no other could, or perhaps even would have. You’re the best Jack Faerie’s known since, oh—”

“Me,” Kerevan said without any pretense at

modesty.

Jacky rolled her eyes. “Does this mean I have to learn to play the fiddle now?”

Kerevan shrugged. “There’s worse fates.”

“But not many,” Bhruic added. “It’s when you’re learning the fiddle that you find out who your real friends are. It’s no wonder they call it the devil’s own instrument.”

It was almost morning before those who were leaving actually took their leave. Arkan and Moddy Gill had slipped away rather quickly and Finn was asleep in one corner, with Kate nodding in another, when the Gruagagh, Kerevan, Eilian and Jacky went out into the park.

“I’m sorry it was so hard for you, Jacky,” Bhruic said. “I’m sorry there was too much to risk that I couldn’t trust your freely offered help. And as for that silence the last time you stayed in my Tower—you’ve Kerevan here to blame for that. It was part of my bargain for your safety that I not see you, or speak to you of our bargain.”

“I know,” Jacky said. “I just wish you weren’t going away without my ever getting to know you. Why
do
you have to go now anyway? There’s no more

danger.”

“But that’s just it. I never wanted the mantle of a gruagagh. I was a poet first and a harper, Jacky.” He nudged Kerevan. “This lug here was my master in those trades. Now that I know Kinrowan’s safe, I can go back to being what I want to be.”

“But what about me? What if I don’t want to be Kinrowan’s protector?”

“Don’t you?”

That smile was back on the Gruagagh’s lips again. Jacky thought about it, about Faerie and how her life had been before she fell into it. She shook her head. “If that’s what it takes to live in Faerie, then I’ll do it.”

“You could live in Faerie without it.”

“Yes… but then I’d just be wasting my time again. Now at least I’ll have something meaningful to do.”

“Just so.”

“Except I don’t know what it is that I
am
supposed to do.”

“There’s a hidden room on the third floor that will never be hidden from you, now that you are the Tower’s mistress. The answer to your questions lie in it—it’s not so hard. Not for a clever Jack like you.”

“Yes, but…”

Bhruic smiled. “Farewell, Jacky Rowan, and to you, Eilian. Take good care of each other.”

“The devil’s own instrument!” Kerevan muttered, and then there was a rush of wind in the air, a taste of magic, and two swans, one white and one black, were rising on their wings into the wind. They circled once, twice, three times, dipping their wings, then they were gone, down the long grey October skies.

Jacky sighed and turned to Eilian. “Did you want to go with them?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I did. Just a little. Just to be able to fly…” Her voice trailed off dreamily.

“I like it here just fine,” Eilian said.

“Better than Dunlogan?”

“Much better than Dunlogan.”

“Even though there aren’t any swangirls here?”

“I never cared for swangirls. I always had my eyes set on a Jack—if I could ever find myself one.”

“Even one with corn stubble hair?”

“Especially one with corn stubble hair.”

“I can’t make promises,” Jacky said. “You’re getting me on the rebound.”

“I know.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, then Jacky reached for his hand, captured it, and led him back to the Gruagagh’s Tower. No, she amended. It’s the Jack’s Tower now.

“The trouble with Jacks,” she said, “is once you’ve got one, they’re often more trouble than they’re worth.”

Eilian stopped her on the back steps of the Tower and tilted her head up so that she was looking into his eyes. “So long as it’s the right sort of trouble,” he said. He kissed her before she could think of a suitably puckish sort of a reply.

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[scanned anonymously]

[June 11, 2003—v1 html proofed and formatted by MollyKate]

[released in #bookz by the EDG]