Radiant Shadows

Chapter 29

Devlin had no words for Ani as she stood there silently. He knew this was when comfort was to be offered. Logic insisted there should be something he could say. There really wasn’t. His sister had killed her sister.

Ani didn’t weep. She stared at him with dry eyes. “Help me? I need to fix… this.”

“It isn’t something you can fix.” Devlin wished there was more he could say, some word, some promise. He couldn’t. War destroyed lives, families, hope. If they didn’t find a way to nullify Bananach, this would be just the first member of Ani’s family to die.

Words weren’t of any use, so Devlin pulled her into his arms.

The tears she’d been refusing to let fall started to race down her cheeks. “I’d undo it all if I could. If you could’ve killed me, then Tish and Jillian would be okay and—”

“No. Neither of them would’ve wanted that.” Devlin kissed her forehead and held her.

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way. Ani wept almost silently, her tears soaking his shirt and her cries muffled against his chest. Devlin knew it wasn’t even the edge of her grief, but her brother slept on the other side of the door. She wouldn’t wail now, not when it could upset Rabbit.

Devlin listened for the sounds of movement outside in the street or in the house, but heard only Ani and those who were there to care for her. Irial made a number of calls; the timbre of the former Dark King’s voice revealed none of the fury that Devlin knew lurked not far below the surface. Irial’s family had been stricken, and of all the courts, it was the Dark Court that held family as almost sacred.

Unlike the High Court…

Somehow, in the grief that was weighing on all of the house’s inhabitants, he needed to broach the reason for their return.

Irial opened the door. “He’s awake.”

Ani stretched up and brushed a kiss over Devlin’s lips. She didn’t speak as she went inside.

Irial and Devlin stood together for a moment. There was no way to ease into the discussion, and no way to postpone it. Seth needed to be taken to Sorcha. The timing was unpleasant, but the reality was what it was. Crises didn’t abide by schedules.

“We need to talk. Sorcha is unwell,” Devlin began.

Irial held up a hand. “Let me start the coffee first? I haven’t slept yet.”

Devlin nodded and followed the former Dark King into Ani’s home. Being there was disquieting. These tiny rooms attached to the tattooist’s studio were where she had healed from the consequences of what his sister had ordered, and now it was where she wept for the consequences of his other sister’s cruelty.

His sisters were the source of her pain. He walled his emotions up more tightly. He’d do what needed to be done, and he’d try to find a way to give her a better future. Maybe I can return Jillian to her.

Ani stood in the hallway between the kitchen and what appeared to be the bedrooms. “Rab?”

“Ani.” Rabbit’s voice was raw with mourning. He stepped into the hall and grabbed Ani. “You’re safe. Gods, I was… You have to listen. You will do whatever it takes to stay safe from her. Tell me that. Tell me…. Promise.”

“Shhhh.” Ani wrapped her arms around her brother, holding him against the torrents of tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m home. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. It’s my fault—”

“No,” Rabbit and Irial both answered.

Ani looked at them. “Yes.”

“No. Mortals are breakable,” Devlin said. “Even if you were here, she would’ve—”

Ani shoved past him back into the studio and then outside. The slam of the second door was accompanied by the clatter of the bell that hung there—and Ani’s angry scream.

“Stay.” Irial put a hand Rabbit’s arm when the tattooist started to follow. He looked at Devlin pointedly.

As if I needed encouragement to follow her…

Seeing Ani like this was so outside his realm of experience. His own emotions were as locked up as they’d ever been, but it still ripped him apart inside. Ani was hurt.

Devlin went into the studio and paused. There were Hounds out there, and she stood just on the other side of the large front windows of the shop. I could go through the window if she were in immediate danger. The threat was too much. I need to be beside her if there is an attack. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open.

She refused to look in his direction. Instead, she stared resolutely at nothing.

He leaned against the wall beside her. “It wasn’t your fault. You must know that.”

Tears slid over her face, but she didn’t brush them away. They fell down her chin and cheeks, coursed down her neck, and dripped onto her shirt. Ani glanced sideways at him. “I don’t know anything right now.”

He sighed and tried again. “What do you need?”

“Rabbit made safe, and then your sister made dead.” Ani bared her teeth. “Breath for breath. She took my sister.”

“You can’t kill her.”

“Really?” Ani pushed off the building and spun so she was standing facing him. Her feet were spread in a fighter’s stance. Her eyes were shimmering with the same sulfurous glow as the eyes of the Hounds’ steeds. “Tell me why.”

He’d told no one his sisters’ secrets. For eternity, he’d lived for them, but Faerie was coming unmade, and the mortal world would be devastated if Bananach brought about a true faery war. The time for protecting the twins’ secrets had ended.

“Come inside.” He held out his hand to Ani. It shook. The thought of her refusing him mattered more than anything should. He’d still be there if she grew cold to him, but it would ache the way few things ever could.

She looked at him with the monstrous green gaze of the Hunt. “Irial is inside. He won’t let me go after her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“I am the Hunt. Tish is—was—my sister. She was a part of me, my best friend. I cannot just accept this.” Ani’s tears had stopped; rage hummed in her words and body. “No one kills the Hunt without vengeance. Gabriel might not have called her Pack, but I do.”

“Come inside with me.” He kept his hand outstretched and added, “Please?”

She took his hand in hers. “I want her blood, Devlin. I want her death. I want her to ache.”

He opened the door to the studio and motioned for her to precede him. “I understand.”

And he did. If anyone hurt Ani, he’d feel the same way, but that didn’t change the impossibility of killing Bananach.

There is no return from this. He wasn’t sure that a return had been possible for some time.

“I go where you go, Ani,” Devlin told her. “We need to talk first. I need to tell you and Irial”—he paused and considered the consequences of the trusts he was breaking— “truths that are not to be shared.”

She held his gaze. “I want her to hurt.”

He didn’t flinch. “I know, but I need you to listen.”

Mutely, she nodded.

He kept his fingers laced with hers as they went back to the kitchen.

“Rabbit’s… he’ll be back out in a minute.” Irial glanced at the doorway. “He’ll be better now that you’re here.”

Ani sat at the table, still holding Devlin’s hand in hers.

Devlin took the chair next to her. There was no delicate way to share what he had to say, nor was this the time for prevarications. He simply said, “If you kill Bananach, Sorcha will die. If Sorcha dies, we all die. The twins are balanced halves, the two energies that came first. Before them and after them, there is nothing. If you kill either of them, every faery will die. Maybe some of the halflings will live, but the rest… we all expire if she dies. Sorcha is essential. She is the source of all our magicks, our longevity, everything. If not, don’t you think Bananach would’ve killed her by now?”

Irial lowered himself to a chair.

Ani sat speechless for a moment, but then began trying to find the hole in his logic. She was irrepressible when she wanted something, and she very badly wanted Bananach’s blood. “How do you know? Maybe they just—”

“I know. They made me, Ani. I call them sisters, but before me, there were only two. The opposition, the balance. It’s what our whole people are based upon. Each court has its opposite. Too much imbalance will cause disaster. Sorcha… she adjusts what she must to assure stasis.”

Irial looked up, and Devlin caught his gaze.

“She will arrange against her wishes to assure the greater balance”—he did not look away from Irial as he made the admission—“even for that court which is her opposition, even as her counterbalance has abandoned Faerie to live among mortals. The Dark Court balances the High Court, but Sorcha requires more: since the start of forever her true counterbalance has been Bananach.”

“Well that just sucks, doesn’t it?” Ani leaned back, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his. “Bananach wants me to kill Seth and Niall—and oh yeah, she wants to kill me… and there’s not a damn thing we can do without killing everyone.”

No one spoke for several heartbeats: there was nothing to say.

Silently, Ani released his hand and left the room.

After Ani walked back down the hallway, Irial started, “Would Sorcha hide Ani?”

Devlin shook his head. “Sorcha ordered me to kill Ani years ago.”

Irial asked, “Because she saw that Ani would… what?”

“I was not privy to that information.” Devlin glanced at the hallway. “I can’t let Ani kill my sisters or let them kill her.”

Irial sighed and lowered his head again. “So we try to keep Ani, Rabbit, Seth, and Niall alive and hope War finds another amusement.”

Devlin felt a strange guilt at adding to the already complex situation. He weighed his words carefully and settled on, “I believe it would be… catastrophic should Seth be killed. In truth, it might be catastrophic if Seth doesn’t return to Faerie soon. Sorcha is asleep, mourning Seth’s absence apparently.”

“Well, that’s… not very orderly, is it?” Irial said.

“Something is wrong with my sister.” Devlin watched Irial pour several cups of coffee. To one cup, he added the cream and solitary sugar cube that Ani favored.

“We’ll figure something out.” Irial gave Devlin a knowing look that reminded him that he’d forgotten to cloak any of his feelings.

“I…” Devlin started. There weren’t words though, not ones he could speak. His envy over the way Irial knew Ani, his worry over her, his futile emotions—none were of the High Court. For a heartbeat, Devlin just stared at Irial, waiting for the mockery or chastisement or reminder that he wasn’t worthy of Ani.

Irial held out Ani’s coffee. “She needs you right now. Go.”

Devlin stood and took the cup—and paused at the roll of terror that told him that Gabriel had arrived.