Julie Kagawa Page 7

  “Ash, what are you doing?” I hissed under my breath. He gave me a sideways glance and mouthed, “Trust me.”

  Leanansidhe pursed her lips. “You two are pressing the boundaries of my patience.” She drummed her nails on the armrest and sighed. “Oh, very well, darlings. I have a quaint little hideaway that I can lend you for the time being. It’s out in the middle of nowhere and fairly safe—I’ve got a few of the local trows keeping an eye on it. Will that be good enough for you, dove?”

  I looked at Ash, and he nodded. “All right,” I told Leanansidhe, putting the Token on an end table, where it glimmered like a stray firefly. “You have a deal. Now, where’s my dad?”

  Leanansidhe smiled. Rising gracefully, she floated over to the baby grand in the corner and sat at the bench, running her fingers over the keys.

  “Right here, darling. After you left, I’m afraid your father became inconsolable. He kept trying to leave the manor, so I’m afraid I had to put an end to those silly notions of escape.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE HIDDEN SANCTUARY

  “Change him back!” I cried, horror pinning my feet to the carpet.

  “Oh, don’t fret, darling.” Leanansidhe stroked a nail over the keys, releasing a mournful, shivery note. “It’s not permanent. However, you will have to take him out of the Between to change him back. The spell dictates that as long as he stays here, he remains as he is. But look at it this way, darling—at least I didn’t turn him into a pipe organ.

  “Now,” she said, rising with a catlike stretch, oblivious to my horrified stare, “I simply insist you join me for dinner, darlings. Cook is making hippocampus soup tonight, and I’m dying to hear how you got the scepter back from Virus. And of course, your little declaration in front of Mab and Oberon and the entirety of the courts.” She wrinkled her nose in an almost affectionate manner. “Ah, young love. It must be wonderful to be so naive.”

  “What about my dad?”

  “Pish, darling. He’s not going anywhere.” Leanansidhe waved her hand airily. If she saw me bristle, she didn’t comment on it. Ash put a hand on my arm before I could explode. “Now, come with me, dove. Dinner first, maybe a little gossip, and then you can run off if you like. I believe Puck and Grimalkin are already in the dining hall.”

  Anger flared again at the mention of Puck. Bastard, I thought, following Leanansidhe down her many red-carpeted hallways, only half listening to her chatter. I’ll never forgive him. Never. Not telling me about my dad was unforgivable. He’s gone too far this time.

  Puck wasn’t in the dining room with Grimalkin when we came in, which was a good thing because I would’ve spent the whole evening shooting him poisonous glares over my bowl. Instead, I ate an extremely fishy soup that turned everything weird swirly colors with every swallow, answered Leanansidhe’s questions as to what happened with Virus and the scepter, and eventually came to the part where Ash and I were banished from the Nevernever.

  “And what happened then, dove?” Leanansidhe prodded when I told her how I’d given the scepter back to Mab.

  “Um…” I hesitated, embarrassed, and snuck a peek at Ash. He sat in his chair, fingers laced under his chin, pretending no interest in the conversation. “Didn’t Grimalkin tell you?”

  “He did, darling, but I’d much prefer to hear it firsthand. I’m about to lose a very costly wager, you see, so I’d love it if you could give me a loophole.” She scowled at Grimalkin, who sat on the table, washing his paws in a very smug manner. “He’ll be simply insufferable after this, I’m afraid. Details, darling, I need details.”

  “Well…”

  “Mistress!”

  Fortunately, I was saved a reply by the noisy arrival of Razor Dan and his redcaps. Still dressed in matching butler suits with pink bow ties, the redcaps filed into the dining room, every one of them scowling at me. Ash’s eyes widened, and he quickly hid his mouth under his laced fingers, but I saw his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

  Luckily, the redcaps didn’t notice. “We delivered the piano to the cabin, like you ordered,” Razor Dan growled, the fishhook in his nose quivering indignantly. “And we stocked it with supplies, like you asked. It’s all ready for the brat and her pets.” He glared at me and bared his fangs, as if remembering our last little encounter. He had been in cahoots with Warren, the bitter half satyr who’d tried to kidnap me and take me to the false king the last time I was here. Leanansidhe had punished Warren (I wasn’t sure how, and I didn’t want to know) but spared the redcaps, saying they were only following their base instincts. Or maybe she just didn’t want to lose her free slave labor. In any case, they’d just provided me with a much-needed distraction.

  I leaped from my chair, drawing surprised looks from everyone in the room. “We really should go,” I said, not needing to feign my impatience. “My dad is there, right? I don’t want him to be alone when he turns back from being a piano.”

  Leanansidhe snorted with amusement, and I realized how odd that sentence sounded, even to me. “Don’t worry, dove. It will take time for the glamour to wear off. But I understand if you have to go. Just remember, my door is always open if you want to come back.” She waved her cigarette at Grimalkin, sitting on the other side of the table. “Grim, darling, you know the way, right?”

  Grimalkin yawned widely and stretched. Curling his tail around himself, he regarded the Exile Queen without blinking and twitched an ear. “I believe you and I still have a wager to settle,” he purred. “One that you lost, if you remember.”

  “You are a horrid creature, Grimalkin.” Leanansidhe sighed and puffed a smoke-cat into the air, then sent a smoke-hound after it. “It seems I am destined to lose bargains today. Very well, cat, you can have your bloody favor. And may you choke on it when you try to call it in.”

  Grimalkin purred and seemed to smile. “This way,” he told me, waving his tail as he stood. “We will have to go back through the cellar, but the trod is not far. Just be wary when we get there—Leanansidhe failed to mention that this particular spot is infested with bogles.”

  “What about Goodfellow?” Ash said, before I could ask what a bogle was. “Should he know where we’re going, or are we going to leave him behind?”

  My stomach turned, angry and sullen. “I don’t care,” I growled, and scanned the dining room, wondering if one of the chairs, plates, or utensils was actually Puck in disguise. “He can follow us or not, but he’d better stay out of my way if he knows what’s good for him. I don’t want to see his face for a long time. Come on, Grim.” I looked at the cat, watching us with an amused, half-lidded expression, and raised my chin. “Let’s get out of here.”

  BACK THROUGH THE BASEMENT we went, Grimalkin in the lead, down another maze of torchlit hallways to an old wooden door hanging crookedly from its hinges. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks, and birdsong trilled somewhere beyond the door.

  I pulled it open and found myself in a dense forest glen, broad-leafed trees surrounding us on every side and a babbling stream cutting through the clearing. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, and a pair of spotted deer raised their heads to watch us, curious and unafraid.

  Ash stepped through the stony mound we’d exited, and the door creaked shut behind him. He took in the forest surroundings with one smooth, practiced gaze, and turned to Grimalkin.

  “There are several trows watching us from the bushes. Are they going to be a problem?”

  Startled, I scanned the clearing, searching for the elusive trows, which, from what I understood, were squat, ugly fey who lived underground, but apart from the deer, we appeared to be alone. Grimalkin yawned and scratched behind an ear.

  “Leanansidhe’s groundskeepers,” he said offhandedly. “Nothing to worry about. If you hear feet moving around the cabin at night, it is probably them. Or the brownies.”

  “What cabin?” I asked, gazing around the clearing. “I don’t see a cabin.”

  “Of course not. This way, human.” Tail up, Grimalkin trotted across t
he clearing, hopped the stream, and disappeared midjump.

  I sighed. “Why does he always do that?”

  “I don’t think it was on purpose this time,” Ash said, and took my hand. “Come on.”

  We crossed the glen, passing very close to the deer, who still didn’t run away, and hopped over the little stream.

  As soon as my feet left the ground, I felt a tingle of magic, like I was jumping through an invisible barrier. When I landed, I was no longer staring at empty forest but an enormous, two-story lodge with a veranda that circled the entire upper deck and smoke writhing from the chimney. The front of it stood on stilts, a good twenty-something feet off the ground, and gave the front deck a fantastic view of the whole clearing.

  I gaped. “This is her ‘quaint little hideaway’? I was thinking more along the lines of a one-room cabin with an out-house or something.”

  “That’s Leanansidhe,” Ash said, sounding amused. “She could have glamoured the outside to look like a rundown cabin instead of hiding the whole thing, but I don’t think that’s her style.” He gazed up at the looming structure and frowned. “I hear music.”

  My heart jumped. “Piano music? My dad!”

  We raced up the steps, taking them two at a time, and burst into the living room, where a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth and the dark strains of piano music pounded from the corner.

  My dad sat at the piano bench, his lank brown hair falling into his eyes, his skinny shoulders hunched over the keys. Slouched a few feet away, with his shoes on the coffee table and his hands behind his head, was Puck.

  Puck caught my gaze and smirked, but I ignored him as I rushed to the piano bench. “Dad!” I had to shout to be heard over the music. “Dad! Do you recognize me? It’s Meghan. Meghan, your daughter. Do you remember?”

  He hunched even farther over the keys, pounding on them like his life depended on it. I grabbed his arm and yanked him around, forcing him to look at me. “Dad!”

  His hazel eyes, empty as the sky, stared right through me, and I felt an icy spear plunge into my stomach. I let him go, and he immediately went back to playing the piano, pounding the keys as I staggered back and sank into a nearby chair.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I whispered.

  Grimalkin leaped up beside me. “Remember, human, he has been in Faery for a very long time. Also, until just recently, he was a musical instrument, which was probably fairly traumatic. It is to be expected that his mind is a little fractured. Give him time, and he should come out of it eventually.”

  “Should?” I choked, but the cat had moved on to washing his back toes and did not reply.

  I hid my face in my hands, then pulled them back and glared at Puck. “What are you doing here?” I asked stonily.

  “Me?” Puck leered at me, smug and looking not the least bit sorry. “I’m on vacation, princess.”

  “Go away,” I told him, rising from my seat. “Go back to Oberon and leave us alone. You’ve done enough damage.”

  “He cannot go back to Oberon,” Grimalkin said, leaping to the back of the couch. “Oberon exiled him when he came after you. He disobeyed the king’s orders and has been banished from the Nevernever.”

  Guilt now joined the swirl of angry emotions, and I stared at Puck in disbelief. “That was stupid,” I told him. “Why would you get yourself banished like that? Now you’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

  Puck’s eyes gleamed, feral and menacing. “Oh, I don’t know, princess. Maybe it was because I was stupid enough to care about you. Maybe I actually thought I had a chance. Silly me, thinking that one little kiss meant anything to you.”

  “You kissed him?” Ash sounded like he was trying to hide his shock. I cringed. Things were rapidly spinning out of control. My father seemed to pick up on the tension, and banged harder on the keys.

  I stared at Puck, torn between anger and guilt. “We’re not talking about that right now,” I began, but he overrode me.

  “Oh, I think we should,” Puck interrupted, crossing his arms. I started to protest, but he raised his voice. “So, tell me, princess, when you said you loved me, was that a lie?”

  Ash went rigid; I could feel his eyes on me, and cursed Puck for bringing this up now. Puck was watching me too, lips curled in a smirk, enjoying my reaction. I wanted to hit him and apologize at the same time, but anger was stronger.

  I took a breath. Fine. If Puck wanted to force the issue now, I’d tell him the truth. “No,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the piano chords. “I didn’t lie to you, Puck. I meant what I said—at least, I did back then. But it’s not the same as what I feel for Ash, you knew that.”

  “Did I?” Puck’s voice was ugly. “Maybe I did, but you sure led me on a merry chase, princess. Just like a pro. When were you going to tell me I didn’t have a cold chance in hell?”

  “I don’t know!” I snapped, taking a step forward and clenching my fists. “When were you going to tell me about my father, Puck? When were you going to tell me you knew where he was all along?”

  Puck fell silent, watching me with a sullen expression. The clanging of the piano filled the room, frantic and chaotic. In the corner, Ash was motionless; he could’ve been made of stone.

  Rising from the couch, Puck swept a cruel gaze at us all and broke into a sneer.

  “You know, I think I will get out of here,” he drawled. “It’s gotten crowded of late, and I was just thinking I needed a vacation.” Glancing at Ash, he smirked and shook his head. “Not enough room in this cabin for both of us, ice-boy. You ever want that duel, you can find me in the woods. And if either one of you comes up with an actual plan, do me a favor and leave me out of it. I’m outta here.”

  With a last sneer, Puck walked across the room and out the door without looking back.

  Guilt and anger flared, but I turned back to my dad, whose frantic banging on the piano keys had calmed somewhat. I had other things to worry about besides Puck. “Dad,” I said quietly, slipping beside him. “You need to stop now. Just for a little while, okay? Will you stop?” I pried his hands away from the keys, and this time he let me, dropping them to his lap. So he wasn’t completely unreachable, that was good. He still didn’t look at me, though, and I studied the lean, haggard face, the lines around his eyes and mouth even though he was a fairly young man, and felt close to despair.

  Ash appeared beside me, close but not quite touching. “The master bedroom is down the hall,” he said quietly. “I think your father will be comfortable there, if you can get him to follow you.”

  In a daze, I nodded. Somehow, we got my dad on his feet and led him down the hall to the large bedroom at the end. Leanansidhe’s master bedroom didn’t lack anything in luxury, from the four-poster bed to the bubbling natural hot spring in the bathroom, but it still felt like a jail cell as I ushered my dad inside and shut the door behind him.

  Leaning against the door, I shook with exhausted tears, feeling stretched in several directions at once. Ash hovered nearby, just watching. He looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to pull me close, but there was a barrier between us now, the admission with Puck hanging in the air like barbed wire.

  “Come on,” Ash murmured, finally brushing my arm. “There’s nothing you can do for him now. You’re exhausted, and you can’t help anyone like this. Get some rest.”

  Feeling numb, I let him lead me away, down the hall and up a flight of stairs to the loft overlooking the main room. A rustic log railing barred the edge, where you could peer down on the living room below, and a queen-size bed with a grizzly-bear rug complete with head and claws crouched under the eaves.

  Ash dragged the awful bear rug off the bed and motioned for me to get in. In a daze, I settled on top of the covers. Without the piano chords, the cabin seemed unnaturally quiet, the silence thudding in my ears. Ash loomed over me, strangely formal and unsure. “I’ll be downstairs,” he murmured. “Try to get some sleep.” He started to pull away, but I reached up and grabbed his hand, holding it tight
.

  “Ash, wait,” I said, and he went perfectly still. It might’ve been too soon, reaching out for him, but I was drowning in an overload of emotion: anger at Puck, worry for my dad, fear that I’d just sabotaged my relationship with Ash. “I can’t be alone right now,” I whispered, clinging to his hand. “Please, just stay with me for a little while. You don’t have to say anything, we don’t have to talk. Just…stay. Please.”

  He hesitated. I saw the indecision in his eyes, the silent battle, before he finally nodded. Sliding onto the bed, he leaned back against the headboard and I curled up beside him, content just to feel him near me. I heard his heartbeat, despite the rigid way he held himself, and caught a glimmer of emotion surrounding him like a hazy aura, a reaction he wasn’t able to hide.

  I blinked. “You’re…jealous,” I said in disbelief. Ash, former prince of the Unseelie Court, was jealous. Of Puck. I didn’t know why I found that so surprising; maybe Ash seemed too calm and self-assured to be jealous. But there was no mistaking what I saw.

  Ash shifted uncomfortably and gave me a look from the corner of his eye. “Is that so wrong?” he asked softly, turning to stare at the far wall. “Is it so wrong to be jealous, when I heard that you kissed him, when you told him…” He trailed off, raking a hand through his hair, and I bit my lip. “I know I was the one who left,” he continued, still staring at the wall. “I said we were enemies and that we couldn’t be together. I knew it would break your heart, but…I also knew Puck would be there to pick up the pieces. Whatever came of that, I brought on myself. I know I have no right to ask…” He stopped, taking a short breath, as if that confession had been difficult. I held my breath, knowing there was more.

  “But,” he went on, finally turning to me, “I have to know, Meghan. I can’t wonder about this, not with him. Or you. It will drive me crazy.” He sighed and suddenly took my hand, staring at our tangled fingers. “You know what I feel for you. You know I’ll protect you from whatever comes at us, but this is the one thing I can’t fight.”