"Fine, if a sidhe raised these things, why are they in California and not in Illinois where the sidhe are?"
Rhys did another of those full-face turns. "Merry, don't you get it? What if they wanted a way to kill you that couldn't be traced back to faerie."
Oh. "But we did trace it back to faerie," I said.
"Only because I'm here. Most of the court forgets who I was, and I don't remind them, because thanks to the Nameless I don't have the power to be that anymore." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. Then he laughed. "I'm probably one of the few sidhe alive who saw what Esras did. I was there, and whoever raised the elders just forgot about me." He laughed again, but it burned with mockery as if it hurt coming out of his throat. "They forgot about me. Here's hoping I can make them regret that little oversight."
I'd never heard Rhys so full of... anything but lust or teasing. He was never serious for long if he could help it. I looked at him as he drove us toward the apartment to pick up Kitto. There was a look to his face, a set to his shoulders. Even the grip of his hands seemed to have changed. I realized in that moment that I didn't really know him. He hid behind a veil of humor, lightness, but underneath was more, much more. He was my bodyguard and my lover, and I didn't know him at all. I wasn't sure if I owed Rhys an apology, or if he owed me one.
Chapter 24
The drive all the way back to El Segundo was out of the way, to say the least, but when Kitto had woken up this morning he'd had circles under his eyes like purple bruises, and his pale skin had seemed tissue-paper thin, as if he'd worn thin over the night. I couldn't see him walking around on the open beach with nothing but a press of sky above him. Once I knew the location of the scene I gave Kitto a chance to decide, and he'd opted to crawl back into his covered dog bed.
I walked up the stairs from the parking area, sandwiched between Frost in front and Rhys in back. Frost spoke as we rounded the edge of the small pool. "If the little one does not begin to thrive, you are going to have to send him back to Kurag."
"I know," I said. We went up the last flight of steps and were almost instantly at my door. "I'm just worried about what Kurag will send next. He expected me to be offended when he offered Kitto in the first place. The fact that I took him and was okay with it really bothered him."
"By goblin standards Kitto is ugly," Rhys said.
It made me glance back at at him. He still hadn't regained his usual savoir faire. He looked downright glum. I didn't ask how Rhys, who understood almost nothing of goblin culture, knew what they considered pretty. With a sidhe warrior theirs for the evening, I was sure the goblins had given him only the most beautiful among them, by their standards. The goblins prized extra eyes and extra limbs, and Kitto didn't fit the bill. "I know, and he's not connected to the royal house in any way. Kurag expected me to refuse, and thus he'd have gotten out of our treaty."
We were at the door. A small potted geranium, pale pink, was sitting by the door. Galen had taken over most of the house chores, like searching for an apartment big enough for all of us and buying flowers for wandering fey to rest in. We'd have had a bigger apartment ages ago if price hadn't been a problem, but it was a very big problem to find a place big enough for all of us that we could afford. Most places had limits on how many people they'd allow to live there, and six adults was over that limit.
I was still refusing money from the courts, because no one gives money without expecting something in return. Frost thought I was just being stubborn, but Doyle agreed that there was always a price on any favor. I was pretty sure what Andais's favor would be -- not to kill her son if I got the throne -- and that was one favor I could not afford to grant. I knew that Cel would never accept me as queen, not as long as he was alive. That Andais didn't understand this was simply a mother's blindness. Cel was a wretched, twisted being, but his mother loved him, which was more than I could say for my own mother.
Frost pushed the door open, entering first; he'd checked and the wards had been intact. The sweet clean smell of lavender and sage incense met us at the door. The main altar sat in the far corner of the living room so that everyone could use it. You didn't need the altar. You could stand in the middle of a meadow, or a woods, or a crowded subway and deity was always with you -- if you paid attention, and if you invited it into your heart. But the altar was a nice reminder. A place to start out every day with a little communion of the spirit.
People often thought that the sidhe had no religion -- I mean they were once gods themselves, right? Well, sort of. They were worshipped as gods, but most sidhe acknowledge powers greater than they are. Most of us bend knee to Goddess and Consort, or some variation thereof. Goddess is the giver of all life, and Consort is all that is male. They are the template for everything that descends from them. She, especially she, is a greater power than anything on the planet, anything that is flesh, no matter how spiritual that flesh may once have been.
Except for the thin trail of incense from the altar, and a small carved bowl of water that had been added to the altar, the apartment looked empty. It didn't feel empty though. There was the small skin-tingling of magic nearby -- not big magic but more the everyday kind. Doyle was probably on the mirror talking to someone. He'd opted to stay behind today and try to uncover more information about the Nameless from some of our friends at court. Doyle's magic was subtle enough that he might go completely undetected as he moved around amongst them. I could not have done it.
Rhys locked the door and pulled a taped note off it. "Galen's out apartment hunting. He hopes we like the flower." He pulled a second note from the door. "Nicca hopes to finish up the bodyguard job today."
"The actress is in no danger," Frost said, as he began to slip his jacket off. "I believe most sincerely that her agent put her up to it, to get more attention for a ... how do they say, flagging career."
I nodded. "Her last two movies were pretty much flops, both financially and artistically."
"That I did not know. But the media is there to photograph us more than her."
"She's taking you to all the hot spots where you are bound to get seen." I wanted to slip off the high heels, but we were going right back out to work. So instead I walked to Kitto's covered hidey-hole and knelt down, smoothing my skirt behind automatically so the buckles on my shoes wouldn't snag my hose.
I could see his back curled toward the opening. "Kitto, you awake?"
He didn't move.
I touched his back, and the skin was cold. "Mother help us. Frost, Rhys, something's wrong."
Frost was at my side instantly; Rhys hung back. Frost touched the goblin's back. "He's like ice." He reached farther in so he could feel the pulse in the neck. He waited, waited for too long, before finally saying, "His blood does flow but slowly." He reached in and began pulling Kitto out from his nest. He came like one already dead, his limbs moving as if he was just dead weight.
"Kitto!" I didn't scream his name but it was close.
His eyes were closed, but it seemed I could see the vibrant blue of his pupils behind the closed lids, as if the skin was translucent. His eyes fluttered open and a slit of blue showed before his eyes rolled up into his head. He was murmuring something, and I bent close to hear. It was my name, "Merry, Merry," over and over.
He'd stripped down to his shorts, and I could see his veins through his skin, the muscles. A dark shape on his chest moved, and I realized that it was his heart beating. I could see it. It was if he were melting, or ...