Lach’s stomach turned. He remembered the vision the hag had sent him. “The hag. She’s been eating at his soul.”
Nate made a low moan of pain and clutched his son’s hand. Zane turned a stark white.
“What does it mean?” Zane asked.
Thank gods his smarter half liked to study. Shim folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hags, even some non-corporeal dead, can feast on the living. What I believe she’s trying to do is absorb his psychic power.”
“She wants to be able to bond?” Bronwyn asked. “Why?”
Shim shrugged. “I don’t know, love, but it would explain the ritual of soul eating. It would take a long time. She would have to drain him over a couple of days or weeks. She would take his blood, withhold food and water. She would torture him. Anything to break down his resistance. The body needs a soul. It would rather die than go without one so she has to be careful. If she simply killed him, the soul would go wherever souls go.”
“Through the door,” Duffy said. Lach felt his heart twist as his brother, his little champion, spoke. His small hands clenched together. “There’s a door and light. It calls to a soul, tells you to go through, that more adventures are waiting, just waiting past that door.” He shook his head and a deep breath filled his lungs. “Or that’s what I’ve heard.”
Shim looked at Duffy, suspicion clear in his eyes, but he continued anyway. “She has to bring him to the brink of death, little by little so the soul hovers, unsure whether it’s time to go or not. And she catches it and consumes it in a ritual. I’ve only read about it, of course, but technically it should give the hag any powers the soul contained. Consorts and bondmates have measurable psychic energy. I’m sure that makes her spells more powerful.”
“She’s making up for the lack of three.” Charlie’s eyes opened, his voice strained.
“Don’t, son,” Zane said. “Rest. We’ll have you home to your mother soon.”
Charlie’s head shook. “Already feel a little stronger. How did you get into the dungeon?”
“Believe it or not, a sluagh guided us. He knew how to sneak in.” Nate gripped his son’s hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but he looked just like the old king.”
Bronwyn sniffled a little. “My father. I was told he fought to stay even after he died. He’s still fighting for his kingdom.”
A kernel of guilt opened inside Lach. Duffy’s words echoed in his ears, but he wasn’t going to let them sway him. Bronwyn needed to be safe. Duffy needed to be safe. It was better than any cause.
Charlie’s head turned at the sound of Bronwyn’s voice. “It’s you.”
She smiled, a little sadly. “I am Princess Bronwyn. I am so sorry I haven’t done anything to help.”
“No. Not the princess. You’re the voice. You’re the voice in our heads. Goddess, I can’t believe you’re real. Can’t you all hear it? Do you hear the hum?”
Kaja walked to the bed. “I have heard it for days, but Dante thought it was all the vampire technology.”
Gillian’s eyes turned down. “I’ve heard it since the day I met her as a girl. But it was faint. Just a hum in the back of my mind until the last few days.”
Lach closed his eyes, the enormity of what his wife was hitting him squarely in the chest. He didn’t want to be sure, but he had to. “Bronwyn, think something.”
She glanced at him, confusion on her face. “I am almost always thinking something.”
Shim seemed to understand immediately. “Think something at Gillian. Specifically. Try to get her to hear you.”
Bron turned toward Gillian and her brow set in a serious line.
Gillian, Kaja, and Charlie all winced, each holding their heads. “You don’t have to shout.”
“Sorry.”
“And I don’t think I’m old enough to hear those words,” Charlie said, his face looking boyish for a moment.
Kaja gave her a smile. “You should use a sharp knife, Bronwyn. A rusty one will cut off your husbands’ manly parts very slowly.”
“I think she was hoping to cause a little pain, baby,” Dante said.
“Well, I don’t see why they would stand there and allow their little men to be sawed off with something dull,” Kaja argued.
Shim looked at Lach as the others seemed to laugh and find Bron’s power curious, but Shim had a grave look in his eyes. “You don’t think she could do other things, do you?”
“I hope not, brother, otherwise she would be a powerful weapon. I also think I know why the hag is doing it.” The thought had occurred to him almost immediately.
But Shim was right there with him. “They intend to kill Torin and take over the plane.”
Charlie held out a hand, and his father helped him to sit up. “Yes. What the big guy said.”
The phooka laughed and fell to the bed Charlie lay on. “The big guy is the Unseelie prince, Charles.”
Bronwyn stared at the phooka. “Why are you here? You’re the same creature who convinced me to run.”
“Then he is the same creature who I am about to throttle.” The fucking phooka seemed to have his hand in everything. Lach was ready to put the little shit out of his misery.
“I am simply more adept at this game than any of you,” the phooka replied, his midnight-black tail twitching. “I am certainly smarter than the Unseelies. Princess Bronwyn is the most important piece to this little game we’re playing. If you take her off the board, this plane falls to Torin and Torin to the hags. The only reason the hags haven’t taken over yet is the fact that they lost a sister. Everyone knows they’re stronger in threes, but they found a way around it.”
“To become soul eaters,” Gillian said hollowly. “I don’t understand what any of this has to do with Bronwyn. Is she going to hum the hags to death?”
Bron looked up at Shim. “How do you send power to me?”
Shim frowned. “I don’t think I do. I feel you pull it from me. The first few times I fought it a little and it went wild. When I realized what was happening and let it flow, I could control it a bit more.”
Bron took Charlie’s hand. “Don’t be afraid.”
The young Fae had a wisp of a smile. “I know what fear is. I’ve moved long past it. Fear is something you get through or you die. So feel free to experiment, Your Highness.”
Bron took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Damn it, Bron.” Shim gritted his teeth. “Fine, but this is a mistake.”
Even Lach could feel it. Bron reached and held the connection. She drew on it, passing up his cold power for Shim’s hot one. Lach was fascinated. Now that he knew what was happening, he realized it had happened before. His power was buried deep, deep down inside, but Shim’s simmered at the surface. It was easy to reach and hold. It was easy to share.
Charlie gasped and looked down at his hand. “Bugger me. I’m on fire and it doesn’t hurt.”
He wiggled his fingers a little, flames at the tips. His fathers both stared.
Dellacourt cursed. “She’s a conduit. Gods, she isn’t a broadcaster. She’s a bloody conduit.”
Bron’s whole face lit up. “I can help us win. Lach, Shim. I can win this war.”
Lach shook his head. “Absolutely not. You’re going home and there you will stay. Roan, if you don’t have us in Aoibhneas by dark tomorrow, I will find my own way. If any of you thinks for one bloody second that I intend to let you use my mate as a fucking psychic cannon, you’re insane. She is not going to any battlefield.”
Lach turned before Bronwyn could curse him.
Curse him or not. She would be alive at the end of the day.
* * * *
Bron approached Lach with no small amount of trepidation. Shim walked behind her, his boots shuffling along the ground. Shim hadn’t argued, hadn’t said much at all. He’d just watched Lach walk away after ordering Duffy to not walk past the river.