Hawthorne did a brave thing then, clasping Aisling’s shoulder in a brotherly way. I wondered if he would have risked it if the man had still been shirtless. “We have a chance to break our long fast.”
“With the princess,” Aisling said.
Hawthorne nodded.
Aisling stepped away from Hawthorne’s hand and moved to me. It took a great deal for me not to flinch away from him. He knelt beside Galen and me.
“There will be no princess for me,” Aisling said. “She will not risk it now.” He looked down at me. “Will you, Princess?”
I didn’t know what to say because he was right. I did not want him touching me. I said the only thing I could think of: “I will not rule it out, but I fear you now, Aisling, where I didn’t before.”
“I’m missing something,” Polaski said.
“Be happy you missed it,” I said.
She walked toward me. “No, you’re hiding too many things from me, Princess. I need to know what is happening here, or you get nothing from me and my people.”
As she came to stand over us, she brushed against Aisling and started to fall. Galen and I reacted, knowing that Aisling must not touch her with his bare skin. I stood between them, pushing Aisling backwards. Galen came to his knees and caught Dr. Polaski before she could hit the floor.
The doctor was safe with Galen, but I was in Aisling’s arms, and I wasn’t safe at all.
CHAPTER 23
HE CAUGHT HIS BALANCE, AND ME, WITH HIS ARMS AND HIS BODY. Perhaps he stumbled more than he needed to, so he would be able to hold me tighter, but it wasn’t him that made my hand slip underneath his tunic to glide along bare skin. Fear choked me, ran along my skin so that it was like small electric shocks, tingling out to my fingertips. I saw Melangell’s face, her empty, bloody eyes, and waited for his magic to take me. I stared up into those odd eyes, with their inner knot, bound in four empty loops. There was no sign of the blue of his eyes. Something was missing.
I traced my hand up the curve of his spine, so warm, so firm, so real. He leaned over me, as if to kiss me through the gauze of his veil. I leaned back, his hands tightened around my body, holding me against him. If I had not seen him with Melangell I would have simply let him kiss me, but some things once known can never be unknown.
I smelled roses. I was suddenly drowning in the sweet, almost cloying scent of roses.
Aisling hesitated. “Do you smell that?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
A voice whispered through my head. “With Amatheon I bid you hurry, and you turned from haste, and chose the longer road. You risked losing that which you cherished.”
I whispered, “Galen.”
Aisling’s arms loosened around me, but I grabbed for him, because I was suddenly dizzy.
“Now I tell you that this must wait, or you will lose again.”
“Doyle.”
“Darkness cannot be lost for it is always with us, but there are other more fragile powers. Hurry.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Who are you talking to?” Aisling asked.
“Hurry,” the voice in my head said, and with a last whiff of roses she was gone again.
“Where?” I asked.
It wasn’t words. It was more like the feeling that had come over me when I told Frost that Galen could not search alone for Doyle. But this wasn’t panic, it was just a knowing. I simply knew where I needed to go. No doubts, no logic, just knowledge.
“Who are you talking to?” Aisling said again, his voice shaky, almost afraid.
“I am not afraid to touch you,” I said, “but there is no time. We must get to the throne room, now.”
“Why?” Galen stood with an arm still around Dr. Polaski, casually, the way he would have touched another sidhe. She was looking at me as if she’d never seen me before.
“Why did everything smell like flowers?” she asked.
I shook my head, and yelled for Rhys as I started down the hallway. He came to the head of the hallway, leaving behind the scientists, police, and bodies.
“Peasblossom’s print is where it shouldn’t be, but it may be a sidhe using magic to implicate her. Put her gently in a cage until we can figure it out.”
“But…”
“No arguments. Just do it, Rhys.”
His face did a rare show of arrogance, going cold. “As the princess orders.”
“I don’t have time for ego-stroking, Rhys.” I started to run. I couldn’t explain why, but I ran down the hallway with its patches of glittering marble like some brilliant jewel peeking out of the grey matrix of the stone.
Frost and Galen ran on either side. Mistral came behind, and the others trailed after. We were down to less than ten guards, but it wouldn’t be a matter of numbers. Something bad was happening, and we could prevent it just by arriving in time. I thought about the mirror that had appeared in my room, simply because I wished to see myself in the fur cloak. As I broke into a full-out run, I whispered under my breath, “We need to get to the throne now!”
Nothing happened for a handful of heartbeats, then the stones shifted beneath my feet. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t pause. I didn’t stumble. I trusted that the sithen would get me where I wanted to go. I ran, as the world streamed around me, grey stone flowing into white marble, as if the walls had turned to liquid. Then we were running on dried, dead ground. I had a second to recognize the pool and fountain that stood before the great double doors that led to the entry chamber for the throne room, but the fountain was now in the center of a huge formal garden spreading on either side. The fountain had always stood in the center of a bare hallway.
Crystall and the guards I’d sent with the lords to the queen were standing in the middle of that garden. They turned frightened eyes to me. I had no idea what about the garden made Crystall look so shaken, and I didn’t ask. Panic filled me, adrenaline like fine champagne screamed through me. The double doors opened without a hand to touch them. My pulse was choking off my air. I fought the pain in my side to keep upright and running.
The climbing roses of the entry chamber, filling the darkness with crimson blossoms, writhed and slithered like great thorned serpents overhead. I ran, and the vines did not try to hinder us. The last set of double doors was just ahead. The court lay just inside them.
I whispered, “Open,” and the doors swung inward. I raced from the dimness of the roses to the brightness of the court, and staggered, almost blinded by the difference in light. I could see nothing but light and shadow and half shapes. Exhaustion danced across my vision in starbursts of grey and white. Through the thundering of the blood in my ears, I heard Queen Andais yelling.
I yelled, “Stop… this!” It took the last of my air, and Galen caught my elbow or I would have fallen. My vision came back in pieces. The court was dressed for a party, or an expensive funeral. A lot of black, a lot of silver, a lot of jewels.
Andais was on the steps leading up to her throne, staring at me, at us. Barinthus stood at the bottom of those steps. He stood so he could keep both the queen and us in his sight. I knew in that second what was happening, though not why. Why didn’t matter to me.
“By what right do you stop me from issuing challenge to anyone, niece?” Her voice held a rage that made the air itself heavier on my tongue. She was the Queen of Air and Darkness. She could make the air so thick my mortal lungs couldn’t breathe it. She’d nearly killed me that way. Was it just last night, or the night before?
“I beg a private audience with you, Aunt Andais.” My voice was breathy, and if Galen hadn’t had a death grip on my elbow, I’m not sure my legs would have held me. Supernatural strength and magic were fine, but I wasn’t used to running like that.