Sirensong f-3 Page 16

  I frowned when I realized Finn was nowhere to be seen. I glanced up at my dad, and he read the question on my face before I had a chance to ask it.

  “We’re in Faerie,” he reminded me. “Knights do not dine with royalty. And he would not have felt comfortable sitting at table with us anyway.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, though I suppose I should have guessed Finn would be left out. “Then why can Keane come?” I asked.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Keane stiffen, and I realized I’d made it sound like I didn’t want him coming to dinner with us. “You know that’s not what I meant,” I said to him.

  Keane’s face said he was less than mollified. “I can come as your guest because I’m not a Knight. And because I was born and raised in Avalon, I don’t give a rat’s ass if someone of my ‘class’ isn’t supposed to eat with royalty.” His lip curled in his trademarked superior sneer.

  “Charming,” Ethan muttered. “I’m sure you’ll win us all kinds of new friends with that mouth of yours.”

  I groaned. “Don’t you two start!” I warned. “This dinner is going to be long enough already without the rest of us having to play referee.”

  They both subsided, but the hard feelings between them hadn’t exactly been softened by the time they’d spent together on this trip.

  Dad led the way down to a smallish dining room on the first floor of the palace. Apparently, there were quite a few dining rooms in the palace, some designed for grand dinners, some for more intimate affairs like this one. Of course, “small” in a palace meant big enough for my entire safe house to fit into.

  Like every other room I’d seen in the palace so far, the ceiling, walls, and floor were all stone. And like in every other room, the decor was designed to hide that stone. More rugs, more murals, more plants. The walls were lined with liveried servants, and the entire room was lit by the multitude of candles on the dining table. Everything was both ornate and delicate, from the furniture, to the china, to the silverware. And the male servants’ livery included breeches and fluffy white neckcloths, while the women wore ankle-length gowns with bustles.

  The princess wasn’t there yet, but one of the servants directed us to our assigned seating, and another hurried around the table filling wine glasses. With a start, I recognized Elizabeth. I hoped that didn’t mean Henry would be dining with us. I smiled at her as she poured my wine, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes. She seemed to be in a perpetual state of fear, and it made me hate Henry just that much more. When I thanked her for the wine, she practically flinched.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in the faintest of whispers.

  I didn’t know if she was apologizing for being so jumpy, or for me having to take her place in the Green Lady’s embrace. Either way, the apology struck me as a little strange, but she hurried away before I had a chance to respond or ask her what she meant. I guess she was so scared of Henry that she was edgy even when he wasn’t around.

  I had been seated next to Keane near the head of the table, and I turned to share an inquiring glance with him. He’d noticed Elizabeth’s skittishness, too, but he shrugged to indicate he was as clueless as me.

  Everyone else picked up their glasses and sipped the wine, but I wasn’t much of a drinker, thanks to my mom. And I didn’t like the smell of wine, so I suspected I wouldn’t like the taste much better. No one talked, the room seeming somehow oppressive in its formality.

  There was a very definite sense of waiting, like we weren’t allowed to move or even breathe until the princess graced us with her presence. I tried to shake the feeling off, to no avail, and I wished more than ever that I could have a nap, followed by a quiet meal in my room.

  The princess kept us waiting for half an hour before sweeping into the room. My dad pushed back his chair and stood when she entered, gesturing for the rest of us to do the same. I was grumpy enough to want to stage a sit-down strike, but I decided that would make this ordeal last even longer.

  Stifling a yawn, I appraised our hostess. She looked remarkably like Henry, although the features that looked harsh on him somehow looked lovely on her. Her neck seemed impossibly long, almost swanlike. Her gown of lush green silk glittered with jewels, and despite the bustle—a fashion accessory that looked just plain silly to me—her fashion sense was considerably better than Henry’s. The green of the gown was a perfect complement to her green eyes and strawberry blond hair.

  She began making the rounds of the table, greeting each one of us by name without need of an introduction, and though the gesture came off just as formal as the room, she seemed a lot less stuck-up than Henry. She had an easy smile, and there was genuine warmth in her eyes.

  When she got to me, she took both my hands in hers. “My uncle has told me so much about you,” she said, and I realized she meant Henry.

  “Umm…” I had no idea what to say to that. I seriously doubted Henry had said anything even remotely good.

  She patted my hand, laughing lightly. “Never fear, child,” she said. “I have always chosen to form my own opinions rather than rely on others’.”

  I hoped that meant she wasn’t a charter member of the Prince Henry fan club. I tried to smile, but the expression felt forced. “Thanks.” I felt once again like there were undercurrents I didn’t understand here, and I figured my best bet was to say as little as possible. What I didn’t say couldn’t hurt me. At least, that was my theory. I wished she would let go of my hands, but I didn’t want to pull away and be rude.

  “I have never been to Avalon,” she said, releasing my right hand, but keeping my left and bringing it closer to her face. I realized she was looking at my watch. “This is beautiful,” she said, touching the face of the watch gently, as though it might break. I almost laughed, because the watch was a cheap digital with a fake leather band. I’d bought it at a drugstore, and it was about as far from beautiful as could be.

  “Is this technology?” The word sounded strangely alien and uncomfortable, like she was trying out a foreign language.

  “Um, yeah. I guess.”

  The princess’s gaze slid to my backpack, which I of course had to carry with me even to dinner to preserve my mortal goods. “Have you any other technology you can show me?”

  The excitement and eagerness in her voice made me wonder why she’d never gone to Avalon herself. She could have seen a lot more “amazing” things there than what I had in my backpack. But there was no reason for me to say no, so I rooted through the backpack and pulled out my digital camera.

  I hadn’t taken as many pictures in Faerie as I probably should have, seeing as I was the only person capable of doing it and this was the only time I ever planned to come here. Still, I had a few, and I showed them to the princess one by one. She seemed amazed, if a little unnerved by it, especially when I took a picture of her. The flash made all the servants in the room jump, and I felt an instant surge of magic in the air. Someone in here was more than just an ordinary servant.

  “It’s just a flash,” I hurried to explain. “It’s too dark in here to get a good picture without it. See?” I held the camera up, showing everyone the princess’s picture. Dad gave me a reproachful look. Maybe I should have known better and should have warned her about the flash in advance, but I hadn’t thought of it.

  The princess looked at the picture a bit warily, but the magic in the room died down, and I let out an internal sigh of relief.

  “Would you like to try taking a picture yourself?” I asked, holding out the camera to her.

  There was a hint of wistfulness in her gaze, but she didn’t take the camera. “I think I’d best not.” She smiled and took a step back from me. I wasn’t sure if the flash had made her suddenly afraid of me, or if she had just decided that playtime was over.

  “I have been remiss as a hostess,” she said, smiling at everyone. It was the kind of practiced smile you see on the face of celebrities who were posing to have their pictures taken, looking ever so slightly false. “Please, take your seats and l
et us have some dinner.”

  Princess Elaine moved toward the thronelike chair at the head of the table. The rest of us, taking our cue from my father, remained on our feet. I presumed we were waiting for her to sit first.

  The princess touched her chair, and one of the servants hurried forward to pull it out for her. He didn’t get the chance.

  A deafening boom shattered the stillness of the room, and a wall of heated air punched me in the chest, throwing me to the floor. Flames leapt from the princess’s chair, catching on the tablecloth and linens as splinters of wood rocketed through the room like arrows. Smoke and dust filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

  I’d fallen hard on my back, and for a moment I lay there in shock, having no idea what had just happened. But the fire was advancing along the tablecloth, the wood beneath it beginning to burn, and I knew I couldn’t lie there until I got reoriented. I pushed myself up unsteadily to my elbows and peered through the smoke toward the head of the table.

  The princess’s chair had been almost completely obliterated, and flames now consumed it. And the princess lay facedown, bloody, and unmoving on the floor beside it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  My head ached, and my ears were ringing, and my brain still wasn’t quite working at peak capacity. For a moment, I just sat there, staring, coughing as each breath brought more smoke and dust into my lungs.

  Everywhere around me, people were screaming. The servant who had been pulling on the princess’s chair lay crumpled in a bloody heap against the wall, and it looked like a couple of the other servants who’d been nearby had been hurt as well.

  I glanced frantically around, looking for my dad and my friends. Ethan was just staggering to his feet across the table from me, helping Kimber up as he did. Neither of them seemed badly hurt, thank God. Beside me, looking almost as dazed as I felt, Keane pulled a wooden splinter the size of a steak knife out of his shoulder.

  “Are you all right?” I yelled at him, probably talking too loud because my ears were ringing.

  He coughed and nodded. And then my dad jumped over the flaming table—no doubt assisted by magic. There was blood on his face, and it looked like his suit had been singed, but otherwise he looked okay. He bent and put his arm around me, hauling me to my feet.

  “Come on,” he said.

  Instinctively, I grabbed my backpack, just barely getting a grip on it before my dad shoved me toward the nearest door and beckoned for Keane to follow. A couple of the Fae servants were trying to put out the fire by beating it with their jackets, but that didn’t seem likely to work. They needed fire extinguishers, but there weren’t any available in Faerie.

  “Ethan! Kimber!” my dad shouted over the noise of the flames and the frantic servants. “Come on. Hurry!”

  They had to take the long way around the table—I guess Ethan’s magic wasn’t up to carrying him and Kimber over without them being French fried—and by the time they reached my side, Dad was practically sprinting out the door, still holding my arm.

  I stumbled to keep up as my friends followed close behind.

  “Where are we going?” I asked. My throat was raw, and I had to cough before I could find my voice again. “People need help in there!”

  I tried to slow down, but Dad was having none of it. And Keane pushed on my back, just in case I didn’t get the hint.

  “A bomb just went off in that room,” my dad said to me as we continued to run. “There are no bombs in Faerie.”

  I coughed again, then checked over my shoulder to make sure Ethan and Kimber were still there. They were. Ethan’s face was a study of determination, and Kimber looked pale and shaky, leaning on him a bit as they ran. I hoped she wasn’t hurt.

  There are no bombs in Faerie. Of course there weren’t, not naturally. But with a Faeriewalker in the vicinity …

  Oh, shit.

  I started shaking my head as we ran. We were beginning to pass others who were running the other way, investigating the blast. A couple of them tried to stop us to ask what was going on, but Dad kept forcing us to run.

  “They won’t think…” I started, but I didn’t finish the sentence, because oh, yes, they would think! I was the only Faeriewalker in the world, and a bomb could only work if it was in a Faeriewalker’s presence—and had been for the entire time since that Faeriewalker had crossed the border from Avalon to Faerie. Anyone would assume I was the one who’d brought the bomb.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed as we pounded down the hallway then burst out of a door into the courtyard. The imposing stone walls and turrets loomed over us menacingly, making me feel even smaller and more scared than I already was. Torches lit the courtyard brightly, but their light didn’t reach the tops of the walls, which disappeared into the darkness.

  There weren’t a whole lot of people around at this time of night, but those who were there didn’t seem particularly alarmed. I wondered if they’d been able to hear the blast out here with all those layers of stone to muffle it. Maybe even if they had, they wouldn’t know what it was, might think it was just thunder.

  Dad looked at me with wild, frightened eyes. “You have to keep running,” he said to me, pointing toward the gate that we’d passed through earlier today. “Get back to Avalon.” He turned to Ethan. “If you have any concealment magic, I suggest you use it. They’re confused by the blast right now, but they’ll quickly regroup and come after you. I know you’re good at magic, but don’t risk the standing stones. Take the long way around.” Then he turned to Keane. “Keep her safe!” he ordered.

  “Wait a minute!” I cried, but Dad wasn’t listening to me. I felt magic building around us, and I didn’t know whose it was.

  “Run,” my dad said, giving me a shove.

  I was too confused to do more than stumble forward. Okay, I knew things probably looked kind of bad right now, but surely once things settled down, people would realize that I couldn’t be the one responsible for the bomb. Right? After all, I wasn’t guilty.

  Only, it sort of had to be me. During the Bogle attack, I’d been carried miles away from the rest of our caravan, so if someone there had brought a bomb with them, meaning to stick close to me until they had a chance to set it off, then their plan would have been foiled. But I’d had nothing with me but my backpack when Phaedra had run away, and I was damn sure there hadn’t been a bomb in it.

  “Come on,” Keane said urgently, grabbing my arm.

  “Dad?” I asked, realizing that he was telling us to run but wasn’t running himself.

  “I’ll hold them off as long as I can,” he said grimly, then looked back and forth between Keane and Ethan. “Get her out of here before it’s too late.”

  “Wait! No!” I cried, but Ethan grabbed hold of my other arm, and he and Keane started dragging me toward the gate, Kimber limping along behind us.

  “We can’t leave my dad here alone,” I protested, turning a pleading gaze on Keane. “Or yours!”

  I had a strong suspicion that if I wasn’t around to take the blame, my dad and Finn—wherever he was—would pay the price for me. And if I wasn’t around, it would be pretty damn hard to prove my innocence.

  “We have to,” Keane said, still pulling me. His eyes were glassy, as if he were on the verge of crying, although he was too much of a manly man to allow that to happen.

  I still didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave my dad and Finn to face the wrath of the Seelie Court. But Ethan, Keane, and Kimber weren’t going anywhere without me, and even if I wanted to stay and defend myself, I couldn’t in good conscience drag them down with me. Maybe Titania would hold them blameless, maybe she would figure the blame belonged entirely on me and my dad, but I didn’t dare take the chance. Dad was telling me to run for a reason, and it wasn’t because he expected things to go well when the members of the Court figured out what had happened and decided I had to be responsible.

  With a sound somewhere between a sob and another hacking cough, I allowed my friends to drag me away. I looked over my
shoulder as we passed through the gate. The last thing I saw before I turned and ran was my father, standing there alone, with those prison-like walls all around him as he prepared for a battle he knew he couldn’t win.

  * * *

  We managed to make it through the gate without anyone chasing us, though we weren’t exactly inconspicuous, running at top speed as we were. At least we would have the cover of darkness once we got away from the torches that lit the gate area.

  “We have to get off the road ASAP,” Keane panted, then coughed. It worried me that he was out of breath, seeing as he could usually spar for like an hour without being even slightly winded. How much smoke had we all inhaled?

  “No shit, Einstein,” Ethan responded, and I couldn’t believe he was wasting breath on his feud with Keane at a time like this.

  Keane gave him a dirty look, but otherwise didn’t respond, which I thought showed admirable restraint. Magic prickled in the air around me, and Ethan pulled me close enough to put his arm around me. “Stay close,” he told me. “I’ve been working on my invisibility spell, and I can cover us with it, at least for a while.”

  Of course, I had the ability to make myself invisible without Ethan’s help. I almost opened my big mouth to tell everyone about the Erlking’s brooch, but decided at the last minute not to. Not because I wasn’t willing to face their anger at my long deceit—well, yeah, maybe a little because of that—but because I was afraid that if they knew about the brooch, they’d make me use it to run off without them.

  There was only so long Ethan’s little spell was going to last, and once he ran out of juice, we were probably going to be sitting ducks. I could already see the strain on his face, and I could only imagine how much power it was taking for him to extend his invisibility shield over all of us while running at top speed. And still coughing from the smoke inhalation, to boot. If I knew my friends at all, if they knew about my brooch, then once Ethan’s spell gave out, they’d want me to use the brooch and go on without them. I supposed I’d be safer without them if I could be invisible and they couldn’t, but there was no way in hell I was going to abandon them, no matter how practical it might be. I wouldn’t have run in the first place if my father and the boys hadn’t bullied me into it, and I still felt terrible for leaving my dad and Finn to face the music.