Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception (30 page)

Book Six

All you who are in love

Aye and cannot it remove

I pity the pain that you endure.

For experience lets me know

That your hearts are filled with woe

It’s a woe that no mortal can cure.

—
“The Curragh of Kildare”

twenty-two

T
here was silence as Eleanor faced us across the parking lot. Over her shoulder, the moon moved slowly across the sky, the birds still fluttering and trembling on its surface. The silver glimmer they cast mingled with the ugly yellow of the streetlights.

“I have waited a long time,” Eleanor said finally. She knelt and picked up the soul-cage with more grace than any human. “Luke Dillon, you served the last Queen, not this one. Take your soul, darling.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“It’s not a gift,” Luke said, his voice flat.

Eleanor smiled, both beautiful and fearsome. “You were always such a clever one. Do you want it or not, dear? You worked so hard for it.”

Luke released my hand to retrieve the cage. He returned to my side and set the cage down between us, like it was something we both owned. “What happens to Deirdre?”

Eleanor shrugged. “Probably an extremely boring life. Ugly children. Midlife crisis. Bed pan. Death.”

“You won’t hurt her?”

Eleanor smiled at me as if the idea was pleasing, but she shook her head. “I doubt it, dear. So many other fun things to do.” She looked around at her faeries and clapped her hands. “Speaking of which, pretties, where did the music go? Is this not Solstice?”

And with that, They whirled into the night around us, filling the parking lot with music once more. Eleanor smiled benevolently. “Now, Deirdre, are you not going to give the gallowglass back his soul? He cannot stop looking at it.”

It was true. Luke’s eyes kept going back to the bird, and the part of him in me tugged toward it as well. I almost hated it. I hated that it meant goodbye. But most of all, I hated that I didn’t know what would happen to him after he had his soul back. Was Eleanor right? Would he have to pay for the Queen’s sins?

“The hero always dies at the end of Irish songs, didn’t you notice?” Luke’s voice was barely audible. He crouched to look at his soul, and I saw the brilliance of the dove reflected in his pupils.

“Wait!” Una’s voice carried as she danced out of the auditorium. Behind her, Brendan was carrying James’ body as if it weighed nothing. He strode as close to me as he dared and laid James down on the asphalt.

“Is he alive?” I asked, rushing to him, thoughtlessly pushing Brendan back with the presence of my iron. I knelt and saw the rising of his chest; I put my hand above his mouth and felt his breath warm my hand.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Brendan shook his head. “But for now, the piper lives.” He jerked his head toward Luke. “What of Luke Dillon?”

Luke looked at me, across the million miles that separated us. I think he was afraid. “What of me, Dee?”

I took a deep breath. No matter what happened, I wasn’t going to win. But maybe I didn’t have to lose completely. I looked at Brendan and Una. “Do you remember what you said that first night I met you?’”

“He remembers everything,” Una interrupted me. “He’s like an elephant.”

Brendan held up a hand. “Shut. Up.” He turned to me. “What did I say?”

I stumbled over the words, not sure how to say what I wanted to. “You said that Luke had played with you—that he played with you in the past. You said he was like you, more like you than most people. And—” My eyes found Thomas Rhymer, watching from nearby. “And Thomas said that humans who live with the faeries don’t die. If I give his soul back—do you think—so he has a chance to prove where his soul belongs—”

Luke’s eyes darted to me, and then to Brendan. I didn’t even know if he wanted what I was trying to get for him. Maybe he’d just think he was going from one prison to another. Then he looked from Brendan to Una. “Will you have me?”

Brendan frowned at him before speaking. When he finally opened his mouth, it seemed he was choosing his words carefully. “You’ve spent so much time among the iron.”

“Indeed,” added Una. Luke was frozen beside me.

Brendan frowned deeper. Slowly, disgust began to grow on his face. My stomach turned uncomfortably. “You stink of it. The filth of iron. I cannot imagine us—”

Una giggled, and Brendan elbowed her. He turned back to Luke. “I just do not think it will be possible. I’m sorry.”

Luke started to say something, but then Una began to laugh, a beautifully silly laugh. She laughed so hard she had to crouch down on the pavement and rest her hand on the ground. She finally gasped, “Brendan, love, Luke Dillon
believes
you.”

Luke made a face at Una and looked back up at Brendan. “Are you having fun with me?”

The disgust melted off Brendan’s face, replaced immediately with an easy smile. “You and your flute don’t have to ask whether you belong with us, Luke Dillon. We’d be honored. You are far more faerie than you are human.”

Una wrinkled her nose. “But also more gullible.”

Luke made a soft little noise—whether sadness or appreciation, I couldn’t tell.

It was so unfair. After all we’d done, after everything that had happened, I should have gotten to stay with him. But there was no way to make it fair.

“Do it,” Una said. “Stop moping. You have the rest of Solstice with him. We’re here as long as the music is.”

I left James and walked back to the cage. Luke kissed my cheek, my forehead, my lips. Then he whispered against my skin, “Thank you for making it mean something.”

Eleanor strode over to us, regal in her bloody crown, and pulled out her bone-white dagger. “Truly,” she whispered reverently, “This was a wonderful game.” She handed the dagger to me. It took me a long moment to realize she meant for me to open the birdcage with it.

Without giving myself time to second-guess, I sliced through the top of the cage. The bars sprang outward like wires, and the dove flapped in the bottom, its eyes frightened. I could see its heart pounding through its fragile skin.

“Shhh,” I whispered. Reaching in, I cupped its wings to its sides. It was unimaginably light, and I felt as if it would disintegrate in my hands if I pressed too hard. I looked up at Luke. His eyes were locked on mine, unmoving.

In my hands, the soul tugged toward Luke, and I let it guide my hands to his chest. I imagined Luke before me, young and vibrant and grinning, and everything we could have had. I wanted to say something like “goodbye,” but in the end what was there, really, to say that we hadn’t been saying all along? And then I let his soul flutter back into him.

Luke gasped—and when he blinked, he was alive. He was so alive, his eyes so bright, his face so light, that I realized I didn’t know anything about him. He grinned at me, this strange, young, wild thing, and he kissed me, hard.

Una came over and gripped Luke’s shoulder. “You’re one of us now. You’re bound by music. Music owns you. Music is your life.”

Luke looked at me. “I’m here as long tonight as the music lasts, pretty girl. Get your harp.”

About the Author

Maggie Stiefvater’s life decisions have revolved around her inability to be gainfully employed. Talking to yourself, staring into space, and coming to work in your pajamas are frowned upon when you’re a waitress, calligraphy instructor, or technical editor (all of which she’s tried), but are highly prized traits in novelists and artists (she’s made her living as one or the other since she was twenty-two). Maggie now lives a surprisingly eccentric life in the middle of nowhere, Virginia, with her charmingly straight-laced husband, two kids, and neurotic dog.

Look for
Ballad
, the sequel to
Lament
, available now.