Radiant Shadows

Chapter 34

Devlin stood in his rooms with Ani and Rae. After he explained what he’d learned, he added, “I don’t plan to be gone long, but I need to talk to Niall.”

“No.” Ani gestured with the blade of the knife she’d been cleaning. “Did you forget the fight we left over there? It’s not safe for you, and… you aren’t going anywhere without me, Devlin. Just no.”

“Bananach came here when the queen slept, Devlin. Here is not safe either.” Rae sat stiffly in one of the uncomfortable chairs as if she had physical form. She didn’t shudder, but there was horror in her expression. “War was awful. The bodies… She will come here.”

“We shouldn’t be apart,” Ani snarled. She continued cleaning her already spotless knives. According to Rae, in his absence Ani had begun cleaning every weapon in the chamber. Her own knives were laid out on a table with several of his. The sight made him smile. Ani’s scowl, however, did not. She furiously polished one of the short blades he’d had on a low table alongside the settee. “I can’t believe you think I’m going to sit here while you go face Bananach.”

“Ani,” he started.

“I waited here while you talked to Sorcha, who, by the way, is crazy. Now you are off to the mortal world where the crazier one is?” She crossed her arms. “I was there, Devlin. Bananach could’ve killed you, and really? We’ve been bound together for like five minutes and you’re suddenly darting off into danger without me. I don’t think so.”

“She has valid points,” Rae murmured.

“See?” Ani shoved one sgian dubh into its sheath. “What happened to logic?”

“And taking you back there is logical?” Devlin’s voice was calm, but the emotions he felt weren’t. The image of Bananach launching herself at Ani was still too fresh in his mind. “One trip, and then everything will be better.”

“No.” Ani glared at him. “If you fight, I fight. Not negotiable.”

“You don’t need to go there in person.” Rae did not rise from the seat where she appeared to be resting. She stayed, hands folded demurely in her lap, and said, “Not everything is a fight.”

Ani and Devlin both paused.

Rae looked at Ani. “You have a close bond with one of the kings, correct?”

“Irial, but it’s not a bond like we”—Ani shot a look at Devlin—“have.”

Slowly, Rae stood, keeping the illusion of solidity. “I can find Irial through you. Devlin can come into the dream too because I’ve already tied your dreams together. Let me in, and then we’ll all curl up to nap.”

The Hound frowned at them both. “Let you in where?”

Devlin stilled. He hadn’t quite explained the possession detail to Ani yet. “Rae is incorporeal. Outside of dreams, she only has a body if someone—”

“Just Devlin so far,” Rae interjected.

“If I let her animate my body.” Devlin added, “It’s a not- unpleasant experience.”

“Not unpleasant?” Rae laughed. “He has a fabulous time, Ani, but he doesn’t like admitting how much he enjoys the freedom of sensation without responsibility.”

For a moment Ani looked at them both. “Huh. Here I thought the High Court was boring. Who knew?”

The tension that Devlin had felt building evaporated at the smiles on both Rae’s and Ani’s lips.

Then Rae was standing directly in front of Devlin. Her pupils were dilated with the usual excitement she felt at blending together into one body. “So let’s see if the Dark Court is resting.”

He looked at her, the spectral mortal who animated his body, and then at the Hound whose dreams he was tied to. “I’m not sure… it’s… I can go to the mortal world quickly, Ani.”

She took his hand and then looked at Rae. “Well? Possess one of us already.”

Rae laughed. “I think I’m going to like having you around, Ani.”

Ani’s answering smile was wicked.

And for a brief, nerve-racking moment, Devlin felt more than a bit frightened. He just wasn’t sure of whom. With as mild a gesture as he could, he motioned to his bed. “Let us dream of the Dark Court then.”

It was an odd sensation, though, to feel Rae within his body—yet still feel Ani’s presence. He’d gone from solitude, to hiding them, to coexisting with them. And I’m not sure which was most difficult. All he did know was that he couldn’t imagine life without either of them.

They followed the path created by Ani’s connection to Irial. In the dream, Devlin suddenly stood with his hand outstretched to the gargoyle on the former Dark King’s door. Ani was beside him, and somehow it was also her hand the gargoyle bit.

Inside a now empty white landscape, Irial stood. “Ani, love?”

“We need to talk to you and Niall,” she told him. “Can we… entwine your dream with his?”

The look on Irial’s face was one Devlin would prefer not to see near Ani, but it wasn’t directed at Ani.

“You have someone I don’t know with you,” Irial said, looking around as if he would find Rae. “Not faery.”

“A dreamwalker,” Ani admitted. “We really are here. You get that, right?”

“I do, pup.” Irial walked away. “I’ve not dealt with emotions this long to miss the taste of the jealousy your”—he glanced at Devlin—“partner is trying to hide.”

A semifamiliar room appeared out of the white landscape. A wallpaper of raised fleurs-de-lis covered the walls; flickering candles crowded the room in freestanding candelabras and in wall sconces. It reminded Devlin of a more decadent home of the former Dark King’s, back when Niall and Irial hosted feasts of debauchery.

Ani sat down beside Irial. “Are you well?”

“Well enough,” he muttered.

She lifted the bottom of his shirt. The skin was an angry red, with black bruises all around the remaining wound. It looked like it was only a moment or two healed. For a faery as strong as Irial, the injury should be almost gone—as the other one was.

“Why is this one unhealed?” she asked. “Iri?”

“Stop.” He took her hand and gently set it back in her lap.

The former Dark King leaned back then, as if he were uninjured. “So… can your dreamweaver leave a path so I can slip into Niall’s dreams later too?”

Niall walked into the room. “Perhaps you should ask me what I think of that idea first?”

“Aaah, there you are.” Irial greeted his king with shadows dancing in his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you were finally asleep, Gancanagh. You’re fretting too much over things that are beyond your control.”

Niall stopped in the middle of the room and glared at Irial. “I do not accept that answer.”

Then, without another word to him, Niall approached the obsidian throne that appeared in the room, and Devlin idly wondered who was crafting the images in the dreamscape.

I am. From their various imaginings. Rae sounded fascinated.

He heard her laughter.

I am fascinated, Dev, I’ve never been able to do this. I wonder if—

Not an experiment, Rae, he reminded.

With more effort than he liked, Devlin walked toward the throne where Niall sat. Something in him rebelled at standing in front of that throne as if he were a supplicant. He wasn’t even sure what court he served. He wasn’t Sorcha’s advisor in his heart anymore, but he didn’t want to swear fealty to the Dark Court either. In truth, he served Faerie itself. Perhaps he always had.

Devlin stood respectfully in front of Niall, but he didn’t bow or offer any gesture of submission. “You need to return the Dark Court to Faerie.”

“No.”

Devlin pushed back his emotion as he’d done for most of eternity and added, “Sorcha is unbalanced. She wants to come here. Do you have any idea of what that would do to the mortal world?”

Niall—once an almost-friend to Devlin, once an almost-favorite of the High Queen, cherished of several courts—stilled. “Are you telling me what to do with my court, Devlin?”

Across the room, Irial tensed. He didn’t move, didn’t respond in any way that would draw attention, but Devlin saw the change. He knew the hope that led to such a movement. Niall had been a reluctant monarch. Centuries after Irial had first offered the court to him, Niall was finally the Dark King.

“I do not take direction from anyone, nor am I seeking your advice. I still have an advisor.” Niall’s attention flickered to Irial briefly. “Sorcha’s recent ailment is not my priority.”

“Would you sacrifice this world?” Devlin asked.

The look Niall gave him was disdainful. “Sorcha took my friend, made him her subject—”

“Her heir. Seth is far more than a subject.” Devlin still didn’t let his own anger into the words, but it was there all the same. Despite his eternity of loyalty, his mother-sister- queen had chosen a virtual stranger to be her heir.

“I’ve been heir to a court. It’s not writ in stone.” Niall gestured at Irial. “He kept his court for more than nine centuries after declaring me his heir.”

“You refused,” Irial reminded. He came to his feet and took a position of support behind Niall. “If you recall, Niall, you refused being my heir.”

“Yet look at where I sit.” Niall didn’t deign to glance back at Irial as he spoke.

“Seth is her heir. He is the consort of the Summer Queen, friend of the Winter Queen, and brother to the Dark King. He’s not in danger because of Sorcha’s action. She saved him from mortality, gave him the strength of a king, and other gifts that are not mine to reveal.” In the moment, Devlin wasn’t sure who he resented more.

“She claimed him as a pawn,” Niall said.

Devlin didn’t argue, couldn’t argue. Sorcha undoubtedly had considered the ramifications of her choice when she made the mortal a faery. What she hadn’t considered was the way it would change her. The High Queen had made an error in judgment, and the cost was one to be paid on both sides of the veil.

“Come to Faerie,” he repeated.

“No.”

“She needs a court to balance hers. She must be kept in Faerie.” Devlin’s anger was no longer hidden. His voice was filled with it.

“The Dark Court belongs in this world. I know my court, Devlin. I know what’s best for them. Each and every one of them is connected to me. I feel them, but”— Niall glanced back at Irial—“a king’s duty is to consider the well-being of his court first. Personal desires come second. Old friendships and worry for others are not how the Dark King governs.”

“You’d sacrifice mortals and faeries? If she comes to your world, that’s what will happen.”

“If she comes here, the discord will not injure my court. Taking them to Faerie would.” Niall lifted his gaze to Devlin’s face. “The Dark Court will remain here.”

Niall’s words made all of the shadows in the room shiver.

“Faerie needs the Dark Court.” Devlin’s anger slipped further out. “Sorcha needs a court to balance her.”

“Devlin?” Ani approached.

With a strange expression, Ani looked first at him, and then at Niall and Irial. “It does need that, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s why we’re here… but your king”—Devlin looked at Niall—“isn’t cooperating.”

Ani stepped between Devlin and Niall. She reached out to Irial and squeezed his hand. He smiled at her, but didn’t speak.

“Once upon a time,” she began, “Faerie had two courts. The Dark Court left Faerie, and as the centuries passed, new courts were born of the strongest solitaries to fill the needs of the faeries who lived in the mortal world. If the Dark Court won’t return, there is need for a new court in Faerie. Someone who is strong enough to stand up to the High Queen needs to form that court… and such a court would need a Gabriel… or Gabrielle.”

“It’s not that easy,” Devlin objected. “There already is a Dark King.”

Niall shook his head. “I’m not going to Faerie. That leaves you.”

“Or Irial,” Devlin said.

“You don’t seriously think I’m up for the job?” Irial drawled. He lowered a hand onto Niall’s shoulder. “I am where I belong.”

“Order needs Discord, Devlin.” Ani spoke softly. “I know you. Tell me it’s not the solution we need. Save your sister. Remake Faerie so it’s our world too, not just hers.”

“I can’t be k—” he started, but the words weren’t ones he could speak. They were a lie. “You ask me to stand in opposition to my sister?”

“No,” she said. “I ask that we do.”

The wolves that were Ani’s Hunt came into the room, crouching and pacing throughout the spaces between the elegant furnishings. They watched her eagerly. Red eyes reflected the glow of the smoldering embers in the fireplace.

“I’m already bound to you. Blood to blood, Devlin. We’re in this together.” Ani stared up at him. “Trust me. Trust us.”

Their wolves pressed against them both like they would urge them to movement.

“I do.” Devlin looked at Niall. “The veil to Faerie will be sealed. One sister will be locked on either side.”

Ani squeezed his hand and added, “Call out to us, and we will answer if we are able.”

“And Rabbit?” Irial asked.

Ani looked up at Devlin, and he nodded.

“He’s safe with us…. Tell Gabe… Dad… that we are all well?”

“I will.” Irial came over and pulled her into his embrace, whispering something in her ear.

She approached the Dark King’s throne. “Take care of Gabriel and Irial?”

“In exchange,” Niall said.

“For?”

“Your dreamweaver doing as Irial asked,” Niall murmured. He didn’t look at Irial as he said it.

“Weaving the two of your dream selves together?” Ani clarified.

The Dark King’s nod was curt.

Ani looked at Rae, who nodded.

“Done,” Ani said.

And then she turned to Devlin and the pack of wolves crowding the room. “Let’s go home.”