The more it bled, the calmer I became. A stillness filled my body, almost a peacefulness. I knelt in the growing spread of blood, watching the thing quiver toward me, and I had no fear. I felt nothing, was nothing, but the magic. In that one instant I lived, breathed, and was one spell. The hand of blood rode me, used me, as surely as I had tried to use it. With the old magicks, who is master and who is slave is never sure.
The Nameless rose above me like a great bloody mountain, one curl of its body reaching out, out toward me, and only a few yards away, I heard it take a breath, a sharp sound, almost a sound of fear, then it exploded, not its body, but as if every last ounce of blood in that vast shape had burst forth at one time. The air became blood, and it was like trying to breathe underwater. For a second I thought I would drown, then I was choking in air and trying to spit out blood at the same time.
Something large hit the side of my head, and I fell to the bloody ground. Even in its death throes it had tried to take me with it. Kitto's crimson-washed face with a blood-soaked Sage on his shoulder was the last thing I saw before darkness swallowed the world.
Chapter 45
I woke to floating. I was floating in mid-air, and at first I thought it was a dream. Then I saw Galen floating just out of reach. I woke to find that all the fey in the yard were floating. Magic was everywhere, streaming through the air like multicolored fireworks, flying around us in flocks of fantastic birds that never knew mortal sky. Entire forests rose and fell before our eyes. The dead rose and walked and faded. It was like watching someone else's dreams and nightmares march through the bright California sunshine. It was raw enchantment with no hand to contain it or order it about; it was simply magic, everywhere.
And that magic was spilling into Rhys, Frost, Doyle, Kitto, Nicca, even Sage. I watched a phantom tree float over Nicca's body and vanish inside him. Sage was covered by a flowering vine. The dead men all went to Rhys and marched into him while he screamed. Frost was hidden by what looked like snow. He hit at it with his good arm, but he couldn't stop it. I caught a glimpse of Doyle half-hidden behind something black and serpentine; then the magic finally found Galen and me as we hung there only a few feet from each other. We were hit by scents and bursts of color. I smelled roses, and blood appeared on my wrist as if by the prick of thorns. I think the others were regaining what they'd given up to the Nameless, but neither Galen nor I had given anything to it. I thought it would pass us by because of that, but it turned out I was wrong. Wild magic had been freed, and it wanted to be somewhere in someone again.
Something white like a great bird rose from the bloody mess and came for me like it had a purpose. Galen yelled, "Merry!" and the glowing shape smashed into me, through me, but not out the other side. For an instant I saw the world through crystal and mist. I smelled something burning, then darkness again.
By the time Galen and I were conscious again, the others had bound the Nameless into the soil, into the water, into the very air. They had bound it as it was meant to be bound. It couldn't be killed, but it couldn't be allowed to heal and go free either.
Maeve Reed had graciously allowed us to use some of her plentiful estate as the burial place, though that wasn't exactly what we did. It was both buried on her land and not buried in any land. It was trapped in a place betwixt and between.
Maeve offered us permanent use of her guest house, which was bigger than most people's entire homes. It solved the problem of a bigger apartment, and kept us within reach in case Taranis thought up some new way to attack Maeve.
I'd always thought that Andais was the crazy one, but I've changed my mind. Taranis is willing to do anything to save himself, anything. That's not the way a good king thinks. Bucca-Dhu is in Unseelie protective custody. We've had to tell Andais everything. We have a witness to what Taranis did, but that's not enough to overthrow a thousand-year reign. It will be a political nightmare to tiptoe around. But he cannot be allowed to remain in power.
Taranis is still insisting I come for a visit to his court. I don't think so.
Rhys laid the hungry ghosts easily. He's regained the powers that the Nameless had taken from him, and so have all the others. But what does that mean?
It means that Rhys talks to empty rooms... but if they are empty, why do voices answer him from the empty air? Frost can put a tracery of his namesake on my summer window, a spread of icy lace he uses to draw pictures for me. Doyle can vanish in plain sight, and none of us can find him. I am assured he is not invisible, but he might as well be. Nicca caused a tree to explode into blossom months off schedule... just by leaning against it. Kitto talks to snakes now. They slither out of the grass to greet him like you'd greet a king. It is positively unnerving how many snakes there are that you never see unless they wish you to see them. Sage has kept a single jasmine blossom alive and fragrant for two weeks with no water. The flower just sits tucked behind his ear and shows no sign of fading.
As for Galen and me -- touched by so much wild magic, none of it our own -- we don't know yet. Doyle thinks the new powers will come a little at a time. My second hand of power has well and truly come. All I need is a small wound and I can call all the blood from a being's body. I am Princess of Flesh and Blood. The hand of blood hasn't been seen as a power since the days of Balor of the Evil Eye. For those of you not up on pre-Celtic history, that's thousands of years before the birth of Christ.
The queen is pleased with me. She was in such a good mood that I got her to give me the men. Prince Cel has his own private guard; she has hers. Shouldn't I have mine? Andais agreed, so everyone who comes my way is mine. I'm keeping them all.
I promised Frost that I would keep him safe, that I would keep them all safe. A princess should always keep her promises.
Andais is sending more guards to help ensure my safety. I asked to be allowed to choose who they will be, but she wasn't that happy with me. I asked that Doyle be allowed to choose, and she refused that, as well. I think the Queen of Air and Darkness has her own agenda, and she will send who she wishes. I can do nothing about it but wait and see who shows up at my door.
There are gentle nights with my green knight, Galen mine at last. My Darkness is still as dangerous as he ever was, but underneath I get glimpses of his pain and his resolution to better things for us all. Rhys has changed and is no longer my laughing lover, nor does he wish to share me with Nicca. It's as if with Rhys's returned powers he's grown more serious, more compelling. There is simply more to him now, more magic, more desire, more force.
Nicca is still just Nicca. Lovely, gentle, but not strong enough.
Kitto, too, has grown and changed. He is more. I watch him grow into his power with something like awe.
Then there is Frost. What can you say of love, for love it is, but I am still without a child.
I performed a fertility rite that brought life to another sidhe's womb, but my own remains empty. Why? If I was truly infertile, the spell would have failed, but it did not.
I must be with child soon or none of the rest matters. Yule has come and gone, and we have only two months left of Cel's imprisonment. Will he be insane when he is released? Will he throw all caution away and try to kill me? Best to be pregnant before Cel gets out. Rhys has suggested we hire an assassin to slay Cel the moment he gets free. If it weren't for the Queen's anger and grief, I might almost agree. Almost.
I kneel at my altar and I pray. I pray for guidance, and I pray for luck, good luck. Some people will wish someone luck, but they don't say which kind. Always be careful when you pray, because deity is listening and will usually give you what you ask for, not what you meant to ask for. Goddess grant us good luck and a fertile winter.