Assassin's Blood Read online

  My blood heated again. Errands had never been beneath Nevith or me, or even Willow. What made her think she was so special?

  But Willow just shrugged and pushed her plate away. She’d barely touched her breakfast, but Lily had a way of ruining people’s appetites. “It’s no skin off my nose what you do. Stay here and count flower petals, if you’d rather.”

  I followed her out of the room, relieved that Lily would be someone else’s problem for a few hours tonight.

  “No skin off my nose?” I asked once we were out of earshot. “Where did you hear that one?”

  We’d been collecting odd bits of human slang ever since we’d arrived in the mortal world. It was something of a competition to see who could find the most outlandish examples.

  She shrugged again. “Don’t know. TV, probably.”

  “What does nose skin have to do with anything? What does it even mean?”

  She grinned at me, seeming as relieved as I was to be away from Princess Killjoy. “It means that humans are crazy.”

  “No wonder we fit in here so well.”

  I doubted that Lily ever would.

  2

  Say what you like about the fae, but they sure know how to throw a party.

  For this occasion, it was standing room only in the throne room. I’d never seen it so full before, with the strip of white carpet leading from the doors to the dais the only clear space in the massive room. The dais rose out of the glittering crowd like an island of calm in the midst of a swirling sea. So many jewels in hair and glittering at throats and on fingers. So many sparkling dresses, in all the colours of the rainbow. Perfumes of every flower imaginable filled the air, and the whole scene was lit by globes of fae light bobbing overhead, casting warm tones of rose and gold on the assembly.

  Willow and I forced our way through the crush to join the Spring contingent, who had slightly more room in a place of honour near the front. Willow greeted her mother and father while I hung back, trying to disappear into the crowd. I had no wish to socialise with Lord Thistle and Lady Feronique, and doubtless they felt the same. We weren’t exactly best buds, since Lord Thistle had been the one to exile me from the Realms. Luckily for me, I now enjoyed the king’s favour, and Rothbold’s approval had reopened doors for me that Lord Thistle had shut.

  Across the aisle, a tall, dark-haired man nodded hello, and I nodded back without smiling. When I’d last seen him a couple of weeks ago, Raven had been laying on the charm pretty thickly, and I wasn’t ready to be one of his conquests, however attractive the third son of Night was.

  “Raven scrubs up well,” Willow said, waving at him. He stood with his parents and two older brothers. All three sons had the Lord of Night’s black hair and eyes. Lord Nox must thank the Lady every night for so many strong sons—children were rare among the fae, and three male heirs was virtually unheard of. He’d certainly hit the jackpot when he’d chosen his bride.

  All the nobility were here for this historic occasion—well, all except Princess Lily, of course. Glancing at the queen’s cool expression, I wondered if she was bitter about that. It was hard to tell with Queen Ceinwen. Impossibly beautiful, even for a fae, her white-blond hair and pale skin made her look like something carved from a block of ice, and she usually acted as if her heart was frozen solid, too.

  At the queen’s side, in contrast to her rigidity, King Rothbold sat easily on his golden throne. He looked a lot like Lily, with dark brown hair, a thin face, and those striking Brenfell blue eyes—except without the perpetual whiny expression that marred Lily’s looks. Tonight, he appeared to be enjoying himself. A smile played around his lips, and he often spoke to one or other of the knights arrayed around the twin thrones. The Lion stood right beside him, and the Dragon behind. I frowned at the sight of him. I wasn’t sure I’d care to have him at my back—his sudden return when everyone had thought him dead seemed just a little too fishy for my taste.

  The Hawk wasn’t among the knights tonight. I barely had time to wonder where he was when there was an intake of breath from the crowd. Turning, I saw three glowing lines in the shape of a large gateway appear in the air above the white carpet. In a moment, mist formed and began billowing out of the opening, followed by the gleaming point of a sword.

  That was unusual. Normally, gating wasn’t allowed within the palace grounds, much less inside the throne room itself. But Allegra was one of the king’s favourite people, and he must have decided the security risk was worth it for the sake of honouring her. It still made me twitchy, considering how active the Night Vipers had been lately. Nothing killed a party vibe like having a bunch of assassins suddenly appear in your midst.

  “Trust Allegra to make an entrance,” Willow whispered to me.

  The Hawk soon followed his sword. As soon as he was through, he sheathed it and stood at attention as a small blonde stepped through the gate.

  Allegra looked every inch the Lady of Illusion tonight, wearing a shimmering dress made entirely of rainbow drake skin, which caused an audible gasp to ripple through the crowd. It must have cost more than every other dress in the room combined—even the queen’s, which was studded with enormous pink diamonds.

  “Nice dress,” I whispered back. “Do you think she’s making a political point?”

  Drake skin was Illusion’s great wealth, but it had also been its downfall. Access to the drakes and possession of their lucrative skins had been the whole reason behind the vicious Night of Swords, when Summer had invaded and virtually wiped the Realm out of existence. A small group of Illusionists had been in hiding for twenty years, and now, due to the bravery of Allegra and the Hawk, their Realm was restored to its rightful place with Allegra, the lost heir, at its head.

  “Undoubtedly,” Willow said. “She wants to show Illusion’s greatness and remind everyone how much wealth they have at their disposal.”

  I glanced across at the contingent from Summer. Lady Brona stood surrounded by her advisors, awaiting the arrival of her son. She stared at Allegra without expression, but her hands were clasped in front of her with such force that the knuckles were white.

  “Probably doesn’t hurt that she gets to rub Summer’s noses in the fact that they’ve lost their lucrative trade in skins, either.”

  A small party of Illusion’s people followed Allegra, including Morwenna and Tirgen, who’d been the de facto leaders of Illusion during its long years of exile. When the last person was through, the gate snapped shut and dissipated in a final swirl of mist.

  The Hawk took his place among the knights on the dais, and Allegra and her followers arrayed themselves before it. As if that was a signal, the great double doors were thrown open with a boom, revealing Merritt, Summer’s new Lord, posing in the opening.

  He was resplendent in sky-blue silk, his golden hair cascading over his shoulders like something out of a shampoo commercial. I barely stifled a laugh. He could have had a marching band and a dancing elephant, and his arrival still wouldn’t have been as impressive as Allegra’s. As if he knew that, he stalked up the aisle in solitary splendour, a dour expression on his face.

  What did Lily see in him? I’d never heard him speak more than three words at a time, so it couldn’t be his sparkling personality. Maybe it was his looks. He had the same deathly pale skin and pale blue eyes as his aunt, the queen, but that whole dead-fish aesthetic didn’t appeal to me.

  “Your friend looks happy,” Willow’s mother said.

  I started; I hadn’t noticed her move to stand beside me. Lady Feronique wore a velvet dress the colour of milk chocolate, which matched her large eyes exactly. Coupled with her long, thin face, it also had the unfortunate effect of making her look rather like a horse. The mare I’d learned to ride on had been that same shade of brown.

  I looked for Willow, assuming the lady must be addressing her daughter, but Willow was on the other side of Lord Thistle. Lady Feronique was watching me, waiting for me to acknowledge her comment.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” I finally re
plied. “She has all the power she ever wanted, a Realm to rule, plus a hot guy in love with her.” Once upon a time, we’d all thought Allegra was a changeling—a mortal child brought up in the Realms—who had no power at all. Next to her, I’d felt strong. And look at her now.

  “You sound as though you envy her.”

  I stared at Lady Feronique, bemused. She hadn’t spoken to me in years, and suddenly she was all buddy-buddy? “Why are we having this conversation?”

  Steel flashed momentarily in her eyes, like the woman I remembered. She wasn’t used to such blunt speaking. But after a moment, the practised smile reappeared. “It was merely an observation. It’s been a long time since the two of us have had the opportunity of conversation.”

  “And whose fault is that?” The gall of the woman, acting as if that was just some unlucky coincidence, when she’d been directly responsible for the fact.

  The king had started a speech of welcome, but his words washed over me, focused as I was on this quiet exchange.

  “You banished me for someone else’s crime.” My father had tried to kill Willow in his endless quest for dark magic. His betrayal had been just as much of a shock to me as it was to everyone else. “Spring was all I’d ever known, and you threw me out with nowhere to go.”

  “That wasn’t my idea.”

  I gave her a straight look. “That’s not how I remember it.”

  Her need to get rid of me had been almost hysterical, her desire to rid her home of this spawn of her daughter’s attacker every bit as vehement as her husband’s angry shouting. Never mind that I’d actually saved Willow. That hadn’t seemed to count at all.

  She had the grace to look abashed. “Maybe at first. But after I’d calmed down, I realised you weren’t at fault.”

  “You mean after you realised Willow had sided with me over you.” I hoped she’d felt sick with horror when she’d discovered her beloved daughter gone and worked out what had happened.

  “Then you have had your revenge, haven’t you? You took my only child with you and kept her from me all these years.”

  “I didn’t take her—she came of her own accord. If you think anyone can make Willow do anything she doesn’t want to do, you don’t know her at all.”

  “Well.” She made a visible effort to put her feelings aside, though the heightened colour in her cheeks hinted at the turmoil of her emotions. “None of that matters anymore. You are held in high regard by the king, and my husband’s banishment is ancient history. I’m glad you’re back.”

  She was glad? “Really. We could have had this conversation any time these past five years. You knew where we were. You could have called us home if you’d wanted to.”

  “You think what I want has any bearing on anything?”

  “Of course it does. You’re the Lady of Spring.” She’d ruled my childhood from her throne like an all-powerful goddess. Just as cold and unapproachable as a goddess, too.

  She gave me a long look, and I thought she would say no more. This was already a longer conversation than any I’d had with her in all the years I’d spent living in her house. I turned my attention back to the ceremony in time to see the king settle a golden circlet onto Merritt’s head. He and Allegra were both kneeling before the throne.

  “I am the fourth Lady of Spring that my Lord has taken,” Feronique said, her voice barely audible. “You can be sure there would have been a fifth if I hadn’t been the one to produce a child, something my predecessors never managed. Do you really think I have any power there? I belong to Spring only by marriage. Whatever power I hold is granted by my husband’s grace.”

  And he could take it away again on a whim. She didn’t say it, but I understood.

  For the first time, I felt a stirring of sympathy for the woman. Lack of power was something I could totally relate to, as the offspring of a mortal woman and one of the most powerful fae in all of Spring. If I’d taken after my father, I could have had almost as much magic as any pureblooded fae, but my mother’s genes had proved too strong. So, I’d spent my whole life watching other people perform wonders, while the most I could manage was a faelight or a tiny bit of Glamour.

  Not that that had made me bitter. At all. I mean, my father had ruined my life—not once, but twice. The least he could have done was compensate me with some decent magic.

  From my point of view as a child thrust upon Feronique’s Court, she’d seemed to hold all the advantages. Just one more glittering, magic-wielding fae in a world full of them. With the benefit of hindsight, I wondered if her cool manner had been the barrier put up by a woman far from home, if she’d been as alone in her way as I’d been in mine—though I’d had Willow, of course.

  As had she. Maybe that was why she’d clung so tightly to her only daughter. Willow was the one person in Spring who she felt truly belonged to her. And perhaps that explained why she’d never warmed to me—she’d seen me as a rival for Willow’s affections.

  I didn’t look at her. This sudden rush of understanding didn’t change the fact that she’d been the adult and I’d been the child entrusted to her care.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “You still should have tried.”

  And then I moved away. I was here to see my friend’s ascension, not to rehash old arguments.

  Now, at last, it was Allegra’s turn. The king lowered a golden circlet onto her blond hair, then clasped both her hands between his as she recited the vow of fealty, pledging her Realm to the Crown for as long as she lived. The look of pride on the Hawk’s face as he watched made my eyes prick with tears. Maybe one day I’d find a man who looked at me like that.

  When she’d finished, Rothbold drew her to her feet and kissed her formally on both cheeks.

  “Behold our new Lady of Illusion,” he said, turning her to face the crowd.

  There was a polite round of applause, more enthusiastic from some quarters, rather less so from others. Raven put two fingers in his mouth and gave a piercing whistle. The rest of the Night contingent shared his delight, if not his lack of decorum. Lady Brona of Summer clapped like a marionette, her movements jerky and forced.

  Many of the nobles were undecided about the newest member of their ranks. She had the king’s favour, which made her automatically desirable, and yet, where had she come from? Not so long ago, they’d believed her a mere changeling, and the taint of that association still lingered in their minds.

  Still, there were others here who were wholeheartedly on her side. The Illusionists owed their Realm’s reinstatement to her. Even Morwenna, who’d been the leader of the Illusionists in exile, clapped and cheered her new Lady with gusto—though I noticed the sidelong glance she threw at Lady Brona and the new Lord of Summer as she did so. Who cared if it was a performance put on for their benefit? They deserved to have their noses rubbed in Illusion’s restored status.

  Allegra held up her hands for silence. “Tonight, the thirteenth Realm rejoins the kingdom, a Realm in its own right once more.”

  A stirring near the doors caught my attention. Someone was pushing through the crowd, creating little eddies of disruption. Allegra was saying something about Illusion’s borders being open to all, and how we could all work together to make it great again, but I was transfixed by glimpses of a tousled brown head and a T-shirt that was definitely not Court attire.

  A sinking feeling lodged itself in the pit of my stomach. A quick glance around the vast throne room showed that I wasn’t the only one whose attention was divided. The Hawk was frowning at the intruder, one hand hovering near his sword hilt. I caught Raven’s eye, and he nodded as if that had been a signal, beginning to work his way through the crowd to intercept the new arrival.

  Little murmurings of displeasure and affront drifted to me along with a familiar voice. Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, sir, excuse me.

  Willow’s head turned just as Allegra was reaching the pinnacle of her short speech: her dream of a revitalised Illusion, where all would be welcome. “Is that—?”

&nb
sp; I nodded, and we turned as one and began pushing back through the crowd, too. We reached him at the same time as Raven.

  “Rowan,” Willow said in a fierce undertone. “What are you doing here?”

  I dragged him behind the nearest pillar, where the three of us confronted him. His long hair was loose around his shoulders, and he wore the same AC/DC shirt and holey jeans he’d had on when we left. His outfit was drawing scandalised glares from all sides.

  “We could all save a lot of money on Court attire if you start a trend with that,” Raven said in his slow drawl.

  I gave him an impatient glance. Everything was a joke to that man.

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Rowan said, his face a picture of misery. “The princess is gone.”

  3

  “Gone?” Willow snapped. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Vanished, run off, disappeared.” Rowan glanced between us and swallowed hard. “Do you need me to draw you a picture?”

  Willow opened her mouth again, and I put a hand on her arm. Rowan was a good friend and the best drummer any band could hope for, but not the most reliable person I’d ever known. He was also easily rattled.

  “Let’s not jump straight down each other’s throats,” I said. “How could she disappear if you were with her the whole time?”

  “I’ll jump down his throat if I want to,” Willow hissed. “It’s my arse on the line, here. I was the one the king entrusted with the safety of his daughter.”

  “That’s right.” Rowan seized on this eagerly. “It’s not really my fault. You should have been watching her yourself.”

  “Oh, I am not taking the blame for this. Rothbold couldn’t have expected me to watch her every minute of the day myself. I have a life, and you are a grown man, Rowan. Why does shit like this always seem to happen around you?”

  “What do you mean, shit like this always happens around me? This is the first time I’ve ever lost a princess.”

  Raven choked back a laugh, and I shot him another glare as the courtiers around us hissed at us to be quiet. This wasn’t funny.