The Outcast Prince (17 page)

Caspian closed the door behind him and stood on the step with the Hunter of Annwyn. “Is this where you get the dogs to tear me to pieces?”

“Mortals are so melodramatic. Do you have any idea how complicated arranging this meeting has been?” Verden walked down the steps. When Caspian didn’t immediately follow, he turned. “If you want to be dragged into Court by the dogs, I can do that, but I thought you’d like to walk in with a bit of pride. Do you really think the Prince would send
me
to kill for him?”

Caspian didn’t answer. Keeping his mouth shut around fairies had always worked in the past, and he was still trying to work out what Verden meant about engineering a meeting with his father. He walked through the garden and out on to the road.

“You’re here to take me to Court, nothing more?” The asphalt was cold and rough against his bare feet. He knew they were walking toward the old graveyard and church that had once been part of the estate.

“Your safe transit to Court. What happens to you there is not my business, although I will ensure you don’t come to harm since you know nothing of the ways of Court. I wouldn’t want the Queen getting her claws on you. Your return…” He shrugged. “I’m sure your most recent deal will bear weight.”

Bear weight, but not necessarily be enforced. “I had to make the deal with Shea.”

“Plead your case with the one who cares.” Verden crossed the road and stopped at the gate of the graveyard. The gap between hallowed ground and regular dirt could be used to cross between the worlds. “Know your actions have had far-reaching effects that you don’t understand. Shea ap Greely has tentacles everywhere. While I realize you have loyalty to the Prince, if you move against the King, I will release the hounds.” Verden moved his hands as if opening a door. The gap where the gate was shimmered like a heat wave, and the heavy scent of blossoms filled the air. “And I don’t care who your father is. After you, changeling.” Verden stood aside and indicated for Caspian to go through.

Caspian took a final glance up the road to Callaway House, then crossed his fingers and hoped he wouldn’t get trapped in Annwyn forever.

Behind him the gate closed with a snap like a breaking twig. He turned to look behind him but there was no gate, just two trees that looked no different from any other two trees around him.

He appeared to be in a forest of some kind. But the trees were taller and bigger than was possible and the color was wrong, not brighter, but more vibrant. The magic he’d felt of the silver tea set was nothing compared to the power in the air here. He could taste it, almost metallic on his tongue.

“Am I dead?” It sounded like a stupid question, but it was always good to check the technicalities and read the fine print on the ticket.

“Not yet.”

“So I’m physically here.” Caspian flexed his fingers. He felt real.

“Yes.”

On one hand that was good, on the other it meant he’d vanished from the mortal world and given that time moved differently he’d have no idea how long he’d been gone for.

“Three mortal days.”

“While I said she’d get you back, I didn’t specify in what condition.” Verden looked at him, his pale eyes almost amused. “And neither did you.”

Caspian gave himself a mental kick. “Why did he send you?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the Prince, and Father sounded too personal.

“Security. The hunt is more than a game. The Prince might be able to summon the army, but without me it has no teeth.”

That was the fairy way, spread the power so no one could rule alone. The King needed the Queen to keep the magic of Court alive. Duties were divided amongst the loyal. If Verden was loyal to the King, he’d be pretty pissed about Shea and the Queen. But that didn’t put him on the Prince’s side either. The Prince was a threat, the one person who could overthrow the King and take power.

Annwyn was balancing on a knife waiting to see who’d flinch first.

Verden began walking, crossing the lush green lawn. Caspian followed. He tried not to glance wildly around him, but part of him couldn’t contain the glee at being at Court. Part of him, the fairy part obviously, was reveling in the sensation of power. The mortal part, the part he usually listened to, was far more cautious. So he reined in all emotion and tried to ignore the magnificence as the forest began to change and thicken.

Overhead the branches arched to form a roof and the forest became a living building. The walls were the trunks, but embedded in the bark were what looked like gems. From the roof vines and flowers tumbled, the colored petals danced in the breeze. Shadows flickered along the edges, but they didn’t belong to Verden or Caspian. Shadow servants. They looked human, but they didn’t speak and kept their gaze on the grass at their feet.

The doubt and fear rose to the surface, smothering any wonder he felt about being in Annwyn. This place was unnatural. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t want to end up like the shadow servants, bound to serve to pay a debt. “Where are we going?”

“Hall of Judgment. You made a deal with a Grey and a hearing has been called.”

Caspian stopped walking. “I thought you said my father wants to see me?”

“He does. How do you think he was ever going to manage that?” Verden tilted his head. “You needed a reason to come here, the same way he needed a reason to call you here. I think it’s all tied together quite well.” Verden considered for a moment. “Very well.”

Cold tumbled through his blood and lodged in his heart. “What do you mean?”

“You’re going to miss your hearing and that would look really bad. Not a good first impression. Bow to the King and
Queen
.” The word Queen was loaded with something close to disgust. “Acknowledge the Prince but not for too long—don’t want to give away that he’s your father. Then shut up and let them work out what to do with you.”

As Verden walked toward what looked like a solid wall of trees, giant double doors swung open. What Caspian glimpsed in the mirror had been a reflection of the true beauty of the Court.

The fairies were beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, pale eyes of every shade from blue to yellow to green and pink. Their clothing was cut in styles no human hand could replicate, like haute couture had taken nature as inspiration and blended it with styles straight out of history but without the modesty.

Skin and silks.

He looked away before he could be drawn in, his gaze dropping to just a few yards in front of him as he followed Verden. In his bare feet, jeans, and shirt he drew curious gazes as he walked forward. Some hissed and drew back as if mortality was catching. In the mortal world being a changeling gave him status above the banished; here it meant he was at the bottom of the pile, slightly above shadow servants.

Verden stopped and swept a low bow. “As requested, the changeling has been brought forward. He came of his own volition, aware of the serious nature of the crime.”

“Thank you, Lord Verden.” The King’s voice rolled around the chamber. His hand lifted off the arm of the throne and Verden moved to stand beside the King.

Caspian was left standing alone in the center of the Court. Those dreams where you show up to work naked… nothing like this. This was like showing up to your own funeral naked and alive but not being able to tell anyone because they thought you were dead.

He gave an awkward bow and risked a glance at the King and Queen. His grandparents. They didn’t look a day over twenty-five, and yet they were centuries old. The Queen looked annoyed like she was going to yell
off
with
his
head
at any moment. The King looked concerned, as well he might. His kingdom would crumble if he did nothing. The only thing he could do was abdicate, and he could only do that if the Prince had a wife.

Caspian nodded in the direction of the Prince. The same pale green eyes and dark hair, but that was where the similarities ended between father and son. His father barely glanced at him; he spoke to someone standing at his side. Caspian let any hope go that his father actually gave a damn. He felt like he was a child again, learning that his father was different. He’d entertained hopes of one day meeting him before getting wiser. But it still bit that his father looked at him with something akin to pity, not love. He was an inconvenience who served no purpose.

All of Dylis’s chatter about Court and how much fun it was still didn’t make sense. Every fairy in the room looked like a fresh-faced twenty-something, but most would be centuries old. All would quite happily trick him out of his soul and firstborn before lunch. A trickle of sweat formed between his shoulder blades and rolled down his spine. He was half fairy yet he wanted to get out of Annwyn and back to the mortal world. He should have stayed in bed with Lydia.

Even as he thought it he knew the Hunter would’ve dragged him out of bed regardless. Would he get to see Lydia again?
Would
he
be
alive
when
he
saw
Lydia
again?
was probably the better question.

“You made a deal with a banished fairy. Do you deny?”

“No.” How did he address the King of Death again? “Sire.” All of Dylis’s lessons about Annwyn that he swore he’d never use might save his ass and hopefully his soul as well.

“The nature of the deal?”

“I was to find the Window.”

There was a collective gasp. Spots of color appeared on the Queen’s cheeks. She looked like Snow White, if Snow White had become a heartless immortal Queen. Her years of living at Court had given her features the sharp beauty of the fairies—and also taken her humanity if what Dylis had told him was half-true.

The King lifted his hand and silence fell. “And once you have the Window?”

“Not specified.” Caspian swallowed but noticed most of the fairies weren’t looking at him anymore. They were watching the King and Queen. It wasn’t him on trial. It was the Queen, but she couldn’t be tried. The King couldn’t act against her without bringing down the veil between the worlds.

Verden’s comments made sense. Bringing Caspian here meant there could be a meeting between father and son, but also the Queen would be publicly told off without her losing face and doing more damage to the fragile magical balance. Caspian didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or be more worried. The Queen was a powerful enemy, and her lover was in the mortal world with Lydia.

“In exchange what did you get?”

“That he would stop harassing me and mine. I have one month then my soul is forfeit.”

There were some more mutterings. And spoken aloud he had to agree it was a dumb deal, but better than Lydia handing her soul over. It was the best he’d been able to do at the time. The King nodded. He turned to his son and conferred, then to another fairy who stood behind the throne.

He turned back to Caspian. There was a weariness in his eyes despite his apparent youth. “In this instance there has been no harm done. If you make another deal with a banished fairy, you may not be so lucky. You may have a mortal soul by virtue of your birth, but you are bound by the same laws as the rest of us. Think well, child of woman, before you deal again.”

Caspian bowed. No one had mentioned the potential loss of his soul or a punishment. He took a step back, hoping to get out of the hall before someone realized.

The King raised one finger. Caspian paused.
Damn
it.

“You may not break the deal. A fairy’s word has weight, even in the mortal world.” The King almost smiled. “Enjoy the hospitality of the Court before you leave.”

Caspian took another step back then turned and walked toward the large doors. They swung open and once again he was in the hallway of the living castle. For a moment he just breathed, sucking in gulps of air laden with scents that made his head spin. He wanted to run back to the gateway and leave.

A shadow drifted over and beckoned him into an antechamber. There was no furniture as such. The tree roots had arched out of the ground to form bench seats that were now littered with a rainbow of cushions in delicate fabrics and bold shades. A large slab of pale rock had pushed through the grass and was acting as a table. The shadow placed a pitcher and cup on the table. Both were elegant and made of tinted glass.

Do
not
drink. Do not eat. Do not dance.

Three simple rules for surviving Annwyn.

He ignored the pitcher, even though he was suddenly thirsty, and concentrated on the trees forming the room. He put his hand on the trunk. The bark was smooth and cool beneath his palm and he got nothing. No impressions, no memories, no past. It was like losing his sight and being blind. Had he really come to depend on the psychometry? He tried another tree, but the result was the same.

“The gift your fairy blood gave you is null here. Our magic works in the mortal world, not here. Annwyn has its own magic. While you are here you are one of us, not bound by the laws of mortality.” His father, the Crown Prince of Annwyn, closed the door.

***

Felan looked at his son. The son looked older than the father. It pained him in a way he couldn’t easily express.

“Why am I here?” Caspian asked.

“You made a deal. The hearing was a necessary formality.” Felan flicked his hand. The hearing had been an excuse to meet his son, and take a shot at the Queen. Everyone knew what was going on and they were all waiting for him to do something. “I have waited years for this meeting. The opportunity couldn’t be ignored.”

Caspian shook his head. “Why wait so long—if you cared so much?”

“Few know of you for your own safety. I have enemies who wouldn’t hesitate to kill a child of mine.”

“You had Dylis look after me.”

“Shh.” Felan shook his head. “Names have power here. While the Lord of the Hunt could use your name freely in the mortal world, saying it here could bind you in all manner of ways. The same for you speaking another’s name. The more names you know the more power you have. Another reason to keep your birth secret.”