Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception (Page 64)

“I do not see the Daoine Sidhe,” the Queen said to me. “I believe they have forgotten you.”

Perhaps they had. I didn’t know what my move was now.

“Not so quickly,” whispered a voice, equal parts song and chant. Eleanor’s eyes widened as Una slid out from behind her, moving soundlessly.

“You needn’t look so shocked,” Una said. “It was only a pinch.”

“Keep your distance,” the Queen warned, and lifted a hand. “I will snap you in two.”

“Come here!” Brendan’s voice conveyed the worry that was absent in Una’s face. He looked nearly as regal as the Queen, winding his way through the reveling faeries astride a dapple gray horse draped in bells. Bells around the horse’s hooves jangled with each step, and bells hanging from the reins trilled as the horse spooked at a ring of dancing faeries. Behind him, a half dozen more horses pushed their way through the crowd, all dapple grays with coats reflecting the colors around them. All of their bells should have made a cacophony, but instead there was an endless rippling chord of stunning melody. Despite everything, I caught my breath, struck with wonder.

Una spiraled over to where Brendan had stopped, tweaking his mount’s reins to hear the bells again. “Did I not tell you it would be this door? Don’t you look a fool now?” She wiggled her fingers toward the Queen and Eleanor, who stood behind the Queen holding a covered cage. “Behold the peacock and her handler.”

I wasn’t sure whether the Queen or Eleanor was the peacock, but neither of them looked pleased with the comparison.

“Say your bit,” the Queen snarled. “Since you must.”

Luke bowed slightly toward Brendan, as much as he could while still keeping his fingers in mine. “Good Solstice, Brendan. Please hurry. We haven’t much time.”

Brendan nodded back and glanced at the other Daoine Sidhe. They urged their horses forward until they stood in a row of seven, shoulder to shoulder, the faeries’ bare feet touching the toes of the faerie next to them.

“Deirdre,” Brendan said. “You have saved the tarbh uisge, one of ours, on this night, and that binds us.” He sang,

The bird that flies across the fields

Eats the seeds of the meadow grasses

The seed that falls from the beak yields

More than the meadow’s losses.

I stared at him. He was looking at me expectantly, and I’m sure I was supposed to say something clever.

Thomas leaned in and touched my shoulder. “A life for a life,” he whispered. “It’s a song of balance. They’ll give you a life for the life you saved.”

Oh.

Oh.

In my head, Eleanor was pressing a dirty-pigeon soul into Aodhan’s chest and he was falling to the ground, dead, wearing Luke’s face. But it didn’t have to end that way. I could ask for Luke’s life. I could win his soul back and save him. This wouldn’t be the last time I held his hand. My story would have a happy ending.

“Save his life,” Luke whispered, his lips on my ear. “Hurry. He doesn’t have much time left.”

Guilt rocked through me, pricking immediate tears in my eyes. I didn’t know how I could’ve forgotten James, back on the stage, gasping for life. What kind of a person was I? Of course, I had to save James. What was I thinking? I half turned my head toward Luke, swallowing more tears. “But then—but when—if I—if you get your soul back—”

Luke kissed just in front of my ear, so brief and light that it was almost just his lips forming words. “I know. I know, pretty girl. I knew all along.”

I wanted him so badly it hurt, a dull ache somewhere below my ribs. I wanted to say, “save Luke.” It would be so easy.

It would be so wrong.

I looked at the ground, at every little jagged crevice in the asphalt. If you stared at it long enough, you could see little flecks of some sort of shining rock mixed into its surface. Two glistening drops splatted on the asphalt, and I looked up at Brendan and wiped my cheek.

“Thank you for the favor. Truly, you are very kind. Please—please would you save my friend James? If you can?” I almost choked on the last words, but I got it all out before another tear escaped.

“Good girl,” Luke said softly.

“Where is he?” Brendan asked.

Una whirled past us. “I know. I can hear him dying in here.”

Brendan dismounted and followed her through the door, giving me and my iron key a wide berth, even on Solstice. He said over his shoulder, “It will be done.”

And I burst into tears. I didn’t care who was watching—the Queen, Eleanor, all of the faeries of the world, whatever. I didn’t care. Luke squeezed his arms around me, letting me bury my face in his shoulder. I felt him staring at the Queen as he kissed the top of my head.

“Let go of her.” The Queen’s voice was stony.

Luke’s arms tightened around me as I pulled up my face to look at her. Again, the red setting sun was blazing in her eyes. Please don’t let go of me. He didn’t.

“Let go of her.”

Eleanor’s lips curled into a smile at the anger in her Queen’s voice.

“I will when she asks me to,” Luke said. “I told you, I’m done doing your bidding. If this is the way I die, so be it.”

If he was afraid, I could not feel it. The Queen whirled to the cage at Eleanor’s feet, and tugged off the cover. Beneath it, a doorless birdcage with wire-thin bars surrounded a dove so white it hurt my eyes. It flapped its wings in terror, crashing off the sides of the cage and tumbling to the bottom. Luke sighed, his eyes fixed on the bird, his body firmly pressed against me but the rest of him somewhere else.

“Foul, isn’t it?” the Queen asked. “Seems only fitting that the essence of a killer should manifest as a filthy, ordinary pigeon.”

The words burst from my mouth. “Are you kidding? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I stared at that brilliant form in the cage. It felt like the promise of what people could be, before we started to screw ourselves up. It felt like a beginning.

The Queen crooked an eyebrow at me, disbelieving. “One last chance, Luke Dillon. Tell me you will love me, and I’ll spare you.”

Luke just shook his head, a slight movement against my cheek. I stepped out of the circle of his arms, toward the Queen. “You can’t force someone to love you—don’t you get it? You can force them to kill for you. You can force them to be your subjects. You can’t make someone love you!”