There was torchlight flickering, dark stone walls, and soft, hopeless moaning, as if whoever was making the sound had gone beyond the need to scream, beyond words, beyond anything but that utterly hopeless moaning. When I was little I'd always thought that the wailing of ghosts must be like the sounds in the Hallway of Mortality. Strangely, ghosts don't make noises like that. Or at least none that I've ever met.
"How dare you lock me out, Doyle, how dare you!"
"I asked Doyle to block the viewing on the mirror," I said, speaking to the backs of both of the men.
"I hear our little princess, but I do not see her. If we are going to fight, then I wish to see her face-to-face." Her voice held anger like a cup filled to the brim with something hot and scalding.
The men parted so that I was suddenly visible, kneeling on the bed, in the tangle of sheets and pillows. Andais was suddenly visible, as well. She was standing in the middle of the Hallway of Mortality, where I'd known she was. The viewing mirror in the torture area was set so that you couldn't see any of the devices, but Andais had made sure that she was horrible enough.
She was covered in blood as if someone had thrown a bucket of it over her. Her face was speckled with little drying bits, and one side of her hair was caked with blood and thicker things. It took a minute of staring to realize that she was gore soaked and wore nothing else. She was actually so covered in blood and bits that I hadn't realized she was nude at first.
I took air in through my nose, out through my mouth for a few breaths while Doyle filled the silence.
"We have had many callers, my Queen. The princess grew tired of being caught unprepared for visitors."
"Who else has been calling you, niece?"
I swallowed hard, let out the breath I'd been half holding, and my voice came out just fine, not a tremble. Good for me. "Taranis's secretaries mostly."
"What does he want?" She nearly spit the word he.
"I was invited to the Yule ball, but declined." I added the last hastily. I did not want her to think I'd snub her court.
"How terribly high-handed, and how terribly typical of Taranis."
"If one may be so bold, my Queen," Doyle said softly, "you are in an exceptional mood, despite the fact that you have obviously been indulging yourself heartily. What has so displeased you?"
Doyle was right. I'd seen Andais come back from a torture session humming, covered in gore and humming. She should have been having a very good time by her standards, but she wasn't.
"I have taken those who I deemed capable of either releasing the Nameless or calling the old ones. I have questioned them all most thoroughly. If any of them had done these things, they would have talked by now." She sounded tired, the anger beginning to leak away.
"I am sure, my Queen, that you have been most thorough," Doyle said.
She looked at him, and it was a hard look. "Are you making fun of me?"
Doyle bowed as far as the mirror would allow. "Never, my Queen."
She rubbed her hand across her forehead, smearing blood across her white skin. "No sidhe in our court did this, my Darkness."
"Then who, if not our people?" Doyle asked. He did not rise from his bow.
"We are not the only sidhe, Doyle."
"You mean Taranis's court," Frost said.
Her eyes flicked to him, and they narrowed in a very unfriendly manner. "Yes, that's what I mean."
Frost bowed, mirroring Doyle. "I meant no disrespect, Your Majesty."
Doyle said, from his awkward position, "Have you informed the king of his peril?"
"He refuses to believe that anyone in his beautiful shining court could do such a thing. He says that none of his people would know how to raise the old dead gods, and that none would touch the Nameless, for it has nothing to do with them. The Nameless is an Unseelie problem, and the old gods are ghosts, and that is an Unseelie problem, as well."
"What exactly would be a Seelie problem?" I asked. I almost hated to have her attention back on me, but I wanted to know. If none of this was Seelie business, then what exactly was their business?
"That, niece, is an excellent question. Of late, Taranis seems unwilling to dirty his hands with anything of importance. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he seems to be living more and more in his own little dream haven, built of pretty illusions and his own magic." She crossed her stained arms, looking thoughtful. "It has to be one of his court. It has to be."
"What can we do to get him to see that?" I asked.
"I don't know. I wish I did." She waved her hands. "Oh, for pity's sake, get up, both of you. Go sit on the bed. Look comfortable."
Frost and Doyle stood and came to sit, one on either side of me. Frost was still nude, but his lovely body was no longer at the excited pitch it had been before the queen called. He sat with his hands in his lap, half hiding himself. Doyle sat on the other side of me, very still, like a prey animal trying not to draw the eye of the predator. I didn't often think of Doyle as a prey animal — he was so assuredly a predator — but tonight, the only predator was staring at us from the mirror.
"Move your hands, Frost. Let me see all of you."
Frost hesitated, the briefest of seconds, and then let his hands drop away to either side of his lap. He sat there nude, eyes downcast, no longer comfortable in his nudity.
"You are truly beautiful, Frost. I had forgotten that." She frowned. "I seem to be forgetting a lot of things lately." She sounded almost sad; then her voice became brisk again, hers again. Just the tone made all three of us stiffen, almost shiver, and it was a shiver of anticipation, but not of pleasure.
"I have not enjoyed myself this day. These were people whom I respected, or liked, or valued, and now they will never again be my allies. They will fear me, but they feared me before, and fear is not truly the same as respect. I'm learning that, at last. Give me something pleasant to remember this night by. Let me watch the three of you together. Let me see the lights from your skin brighten the night like fireworks."
The three of us sat there for a second, then Doyle said, "I have had my night with the princess. Frost has made it clear that he does not wish to share her tonight."
"He will share if I say that he will share," Andais said. It was hard to argue with her, blood soaked and nude, looking like some terrible primal things but we tried.
"I would ask that Your Majesty not do this," Frost said. He wasn't looking arrogant. He was looking almost frightened.
"You would ask? You would ask? What is it you are asking of me?"
"Nothing," he said, head hanging so that the shine of his hair hid his face. "Absolutely nothing." He sounded bitter and sorrowful when he said it.
"Aunt Andais," I said, keeping my voice level, soft, like I was trying to talk a crazy person out of setting off the bomb strapped to her body. "Please, we have done nothing to displease you. We have done everything we can to please you. Why would you punish us for that?"
"Were you going to have sex tonight?"
"Yes, but…"
"You are going to fuck Frost tonight, are you not?"
"Yes."
"You fucked Doyle last night, correct?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"Then what difference does it make if you fuck them both right now, tonight?" Her voice was rising again, losing its calm edge.