Truthseeker Part 3

Lara put her teeth together, searching for the right questions to ask: Were those fears rational? Fear wasnat, by its nature, rational, but most people could separate out a fear of heights from the conviction that the bridge they crossed was going to fall into the water below. Finally satisfied that it was, indeed, fear driving guilt and dissonant answers, Lara brought her questions back to the whole: Does anyone know who is responsible for Merrick ap Annwnas murder? Does anyone have suspicions? Motives? That got a bitter laugh, and one clear voice out of hundreds: aHe was Unseelie.a Silence, abrupt and strained, followed the accusation. The courtiers, so willing to edge away from those who confessed to dislike, went still, as if afraid they would otherwise all look to whomever spoke, and in doing so condemn him.

But there was no condemnation to be made. Even the repugnance with which the words had been spoken wasnat enough to mask an inherent truth. Merrickas Unseelie heritage may have seemed, in melodramatic terms, to be reason enough to destroy him, but there was dissonance in the words: it was not, in truth, reason enough. It had not driven any of the gathered court to kill.

It made her aware she knew too little and that Dafydd had diced his language carefully when head asked her to help him. That, in turn, reminded her of Aerinas warning to be cautious, and Lara trembled with both exhaustion and nerves as she finally turned back to the throne. aI honestly donat think anyone here is responsible in any way for your brotheras murder, Dafydd. I donat know what that means, where we go from here, but if anyone here is guilty I canat think of a question to ask thatall resonate with me.a aA truthseeker worthy of the name would have looked among us and known instantly,a the king said coolly.

There was no profit in angering powerful men. Laraas chin dropped to her chest, weariness overcoming wisdom. aDafydd said my talent hasnat matured. If youare not in any hurry, I could come back in a few years and we could try again then. Iam trying my best, though, and there is something I did notice, even if Iam not as good as I could be.a Impatient fingertips rattled a drumbeat against the throneas arm. aAnd what is that?a Lara lifted her head, meeting the elfin kingas eyes. aNeither you nor Dafydd answered any of my questions.a Emyr came to his feet in a silver shot, offended power blazing off him so strongly that Laraas next breath showed on suddenly chilly air. As one, the gathered courtiers moved back, showing the respect and awe due a monarch whose temper had been ignited by insult.

Panic leapt in Laraas stomach, driving the impulse to do as the courtiers had done: to escape the kingas reach and his wrath. She wasnat certain it was bravery that held her in place; it could as easily have been a fundamental inability to move. But she forced her chin up, forced her gaze to be cool, and told herself that in the face of her calm the Seelie kingas response was overblown and gauche. That he made himself foolish, when all head had to do was respond evenly in order to retain his own dignity.

aIam sorry,a she said mildly, and meant it, though more as an expression of surprise than apology. aIs the king above the law in the Barrow-lands?a aThe king is not expected to partic.i.p.ate in common courtroom displays,a he said through his teeth. Ice crystals grew around his feet, marring the silver craftsmans.h.i.+p of his throne and creeping toward Lara like a physical threat. For a long moment her attention was drawn to their inching progress, and a s.h.i.+ver rose up from her core. Regardless of how much courage she drew on, she could never hope to match an anger that was literally elemental.

The leading edge of ice turned to water as it moved beyond the immediate area of the kingas effect, and a prosaic curiosity knocked fear out of her: she wondered how the silver remained unblackened, if the Seelie monarch was p.r.o.ne to fits of temper. There would have to be servants to mop up the melt water so it wouldnat oxidize in hard-to-reach crevices, since Lara couldnat imagine Dafyddas father stooping to do such menial work himself.

Equilibrium restored by ordinary matters of pragmatism, Lara lifted her gaze back to the king and arched an eyebrow in deliberate, if moderate, challenge. aIn private will be fine, then. I do most of my work behind a closed door anyway.a aI have nothing to hide.a Dafyddas voice surprised her, but nowhere nearly as much as it shocked his father, who flinched so hard a spray of frost cascaded from his shoulders and fell white against the throne. aI should have thought to include myself in the compulsion, or at the least, made answers to your questions. The prerogative of royalty,a Dafydd explained. aIam afraid even a century among humans didnat eliminate my a.s.sumption of carte blanche once I returned home.a The kingas jaw locked, fury paling his eyes. Dafydd met the expression with an artless expression of no concern, but subtle tension changed the set of his shoulders and the way his clothes fell. He was forcing his fatheras hand, Lara realized and, looking between them, had an instantas clarity. The king wasnat above the law: he was the law, as he would have been through much of human history. It was therefore almost impossible to suggest the law might be in any way corrupt without also implicating the crown.

Shead come to the Barrow-lands to help, not to sow the seeds of civil war. aItas all right, Dafydd. I probably wouldnat have thought to include myself, either. And I imagine no one would expect the queen of England to be subjected to ma.s.s questioning, either. I do think itas necessary to put you through it, though, your majesty, if for no other reason than to allow you to face the Unseelie king with the absolute truth at your side.a The phrase ayour majestya came more smoothly than shead feared it might. It was deliberate mollification, as deliberate as her earlier attempt to infuriate him, but the wealthy and powerful were frequently easy to a.s.suage by paying them the due they thought owed them. And, to be fair, the man was a king. Insufferably arrogant, perhaps, but a king.

And, just like a highly sensitive shop client, he relaxed a little, some of the cold inching back from where it had grown around him. aHafgan would never believe me to be in any way responsible for his sonas death. To be so would be to risk my own child Ioanas life. Even so, the a.s.surance would not go amiss.a He took one step down from his dais, approaching Lara, though it was his court he addressed.

aI am Emyr, king of the Barrow-lands, and I tell you this now: I have had no hand in the deatha"the murdera"of Merrick ap Annwn, child of Hafgan of the Unseelie. I neither nocked the arrow nor drew it nor released it.a His gaze went to Lara, and quietly but sharply, he added, aAnd those words are both literal and figurative in their truths. I am not part of the plot that designed his death. I did not shape it, nor do I have any knowledge of who did. I only wish I did, if for no other reason than to a.s.sure my oldest sonas safety.a The ice that had left it came back into his voice. aNow, Truthseeker, are you satisfied?a Lara tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed as she considered the king. Then she took a handful of skirts and dropped a brief curtsy that felt unnatural, but which she meant with as much genuine respect as she could muster. aI am. You were very thorough, and I donat think I have any follow-up questions.a She released her skirts and turned to Dafydd much less formally. aWhich only leaves you, I guess.a aWhy bother?a Aerin stepped forward from within the courtiers. aThereas no one among us who doesnat know Dafydd ap Caerwyn was the murder weapon himself.a

Fourteen.

Ice erupted in Laraas stomach and froze her breath as surely as though Emyr had cast a spell to chill the air. Bravado had pushed her through facing his anger; bravado and the certainty that if she let herself admit to the awe she felt, she would crumble in a whimpering heap at the throneas edge and never get up again.

Even that narrow strand of willpower deserted her, resonating pure tones in Aerinas charge stripping what strength she had to draw on. She swung toward Dafydd, the ice in her belly spreading to her arms and legs and leaving her a clumsy marionette. Only the way the skirts crumpled in her hand promised her gown was still gossamer: its weight was such that it might have turned to stone. There was nothing to her voice, only a protest of disbelief she knew would go unanswered: aDafydd?a Unanswered, at least, in the way she wanted it to be. Weary regret in the lines of his body told her everything she already knew to be true: that Aerinas accusation held merit, and that the son of the Seelie king had somehow lied to her.

aI nocked the arrow.a Dafyddas shoulders slumped, all his slender alien beauty wiped out with such a human stance of defeat. aI drew the bowstring and loosed the arrow that ended my brotheras life.a aAnd you didnat think to tell me this?a Venom melted the cold in Laraas chest and carried heat to her cheeks. Worse than blushes, bitter water stung her eyes. She knotted her fingers more tightly into the thin fabric of her skirts, willing herself to not draw attention to tears by das.h.i.+ng them away, and wondered sharply if the Seelie cried from frustration or anger. It was a human fallibility shead be glad to give up. aWhat the h.e.l.l did you want me here for, if you killed him?a aHe claims himself innocent of the crime.a Emyr spoke again, disdain in every word. aOur poet and seer insisted he be given the chance to clear himself, and that can only be done through a truthseekeras talents.a aI loosed the arrow.a Dafyddas hands slowly turned to fists, his body taut and his face downcast. His gaze, though, remained on Lara, fiery with desperation. aBut my actions werenat my own, Lara. I remember stilla"I will never forgeta"the thickness that came over me. I can see what I did, can feel my arm bend and take the arrow from its quiver, can feel the weight of the bowstring against my fingers, and in nightmares I watch the arrow fly true while my mind screams against my actions. I was the weapon, but I am not the killer. I swear it.a Strain released him abruptly, as though offering his explanation had been a battle of wills that, once ended, left him drained. aIam sorry,a he added in a whisper. aI should have explained it all, but I was afraid you wouldnat come with me, and I have no other way to prove myself innocent.a Lara sat down gracelessly, sc.r.a.ping her hip painfully on the edge of the throne dais as she did. The wince that crossed her face was excuse enough to cup her hands around her forehead, s.h.i.+elding herself from the curious light eyes of so many strangers while she caught her breath.

s.h.i.+elding herself, too, from showing confusion and relief and dismay, though she knew hiding her expression was as much a giveaway as sharing it would be. The courtiersa silence pressed on her, unforgiving in its interest, inhuman in its patient extension.

She broke before they did, s.h.i.+vering under the weight of their antic.i.p.ation. aHeas telling the truth. At least he believes itas the truth. He was the weapon, not the murderer.a Aerin had named Dafydd the weapon as well, a distinction that had meant nothing to Lara a few moments earlier. She folded her fingers down, searching for Aerinas willowy form among so many others. aIs that possible? Dafydd just laid a compulsion to answer on all of you. Can one be laid on someone to make them act against their will?a Hesitation clouded the Seelie womanas clear eyes. aI would have said no. That there must be a part of the one enchanted that wishes to act as the enchanter wishes him to.a aBut?a The single word echoed sharply in a hall too filled with bodies for reverberations to sound at all. Discomfort crawled over Laraas skin, raising hairs, and the muscles in her neck creaked with the effort of holding her head still. Magic was being employed, making her voice carry. She was almost certain of it, but looking around to question Dafydd or Emyras hand in it felt, somehow, like losing ground.

aBut Iave known Dafydd and Merrick all their lives,a Aerin said. aI saw rivalry between them, as with any family, but I canat believe thereas any part of Dafydd that wished Merrick harm. Either I donat know him as well as I think, or thereas a magic that can force a manas hand against his will.a aUnseelie magica came out of the gathering, accusing words spoken in more than one voice. Others nodded, muttering agreement as a spasm of uncertain concurrence shaped Aerinas mouth. Lara released her self-imposed stillness and twisted to glance first at Dafydd, then Emyr. Her neck ached from the angle, but getting to her feet seemed risky: tremors rattled her, Dafyddas confession still leaving marks.

aA few more questions, if you will, your majesty. Am I right in a.s.suming youare one of the most skilled magic users of your people?a A trill of body-weakening absurdity ran through her, making her glad she hadnat risen. A week earlier she hadnat believed in magic at all. Now she was interrogating a monarch on his talent for it. She felt as though a bandage had been torn off, the sting fading so long as she didnat look too closely at the wound it had covered.

Emyr stared down at her, impa.s.sive enough to be threatening. He finally nodded, a single short action that informed Lara as to her rudeness in asking. She sighed and climbed to her feet again, feeling more able to face Emyras acidic gaze that way. aThen for the purposes of this trial, Iam going to consider you an expert witness. As such, would you say itas possible to enchant someone into doing something he didnat want to?a aI have never tried,a Emyr said after a lengthy silence, abut I believe I could.a The faintest emphasis lay on the final aI,a making it clear that he doubted it was a skill owned by all.

aSo itas not necessarily Unseelie magic?a Lara used the word cautiously, uncomfortably certain that the Seelie court regarded it as synonymous with evil or dark.

For all his pale icy colors, Lara saw fire rise in the Seelie king. aNot,a he said with too much precision, anecessarily. But that court has made use of their magics before in ways that this court and these people had never considered and would not condone. This is such a use. I think it more likely, if my son has been used as a weapon, that the wielder is of the Unseelie court, and not this one.a aEven though theyad be killing their own kingas son? Why would they do that?a Even as she asked Lara knew, and answered her own question: aTo provoke war. To create a chance at seizing the land they want. How long did you say youave fought over the Barrow-lands?a aIt has been this way fora"a Dafydd shrugged, spreading his hands. aForever.a aForever,a Lara heard herself say in a light, disconcerting tone, ais a very long time, to immortals.a Her dress suddenly wasnat warm enough, cold rus.h.i.+ng over her as though shead stepped into a northern wind. Uncertainty crossed Dafyddas face, a sign that the strangeness in her voice wasnat something only she had heard, but it was his father who answered her.

aIt is, and yet even I would rest easy with saying it has been this way forever to a truthseeker.a aAnd have there been wars over it before?a Lara folded her arms around herself as she turned back to Emyr, not caring that it made her look small and defensive.

The first hint of humor shead seen in him ghosted across the kingas pale features. aNot in forever. Battles, yes, but never war. The Unseelie have never gathered in such force as will greet us in the morning.a Humor pa.s.sed, leaving sharpness in its wake. aAll of us who live in the citadel are gathered in this room, Truthseeker. If you cannot point us at a murderer tonight, then we who must fight on the morrow will retire, the better to protect our lands and people with dawn.a aAll I have right now is Dafydd,a she said bitterly. aThe same as the rest of you. He believes utterly that he was the weapon but not the killer, and no one else in here has even a hint of guilt about them. You might as well go to bed.a Courtiers scattered away from Lara, from their disgraced prince, and most of all from their bleak-eyed king. Lara watched them break into groups, gossip rising up in whispers before theyad escaped earshot. Even Aerin slipped into the heart of a small gathering, ducking her head to catch the murmurs and speculation of those around her. It was easier to watch them, to wonder at what they said, than to look at Dafydd again, knowing he had betrayed her trust with full and deliberate intention.

Oh, he hadnat lied, and Lara perversely admired that, but it did nothing to ease the cut of betrayal she felt. He hadnat lied, but neither had he told her anything like the whole truth, nor laid out the clues that might have led her to asking questions he couldnat refuse to answer.

Kelly would call him a piece of work for that particular success. Lara cast one hard glare at the floor, then made herself lift her gaze to find Dafyddas, to see what she could read in his expression.

Humility, even self-disgust, marred his handsome, alien features, and his glance skittered away guiltily before he brought it back to her, seeking forgiveness he in no way deserved. She met that plea coolly, feeling the same well-controlled condemnation in her gaze as shead laid on him the first time theyad met, in the moment head given her a false name.

She ought to have been wiser from that moment on. Subtle complexities of truth were so rare as to be intriguing and exciting to pursue, but at the heart of it he had lied to her from the moment theyad met. When she had been so uncomfortable over his name, she should have known better than to trust that he had been wholly honest with the story that had convinced her to join him in the Barrow-lands.

aDonat tell me you had no other choice.a Her voice was as clipped as Emyras had ever been, and she wondered if she could be as arrogant as the Seelie king. aYou could have said youad been framed. Iad have heard the truth in it.a aBut would you have come with me, knowing Iad murdered a man? You just said I believed what I told you was the truth. Thatas not exoneration, Lara. Itas only enough to hang the jury.a It was a curiously human expression from the Seelie prince, and had her anger been a little less, she might have smiled. Instead she snapped, aDo you even have juries here?a aNo.a Emyr stepped down from the throne dais, regal presence needing no other clarification: he was the beginning and end of the law, uninterested in troubling with juries or trials. aTake your truthseeker away, Dafydd. I have magics to work, and I would have them removed from her influence.a aAnd her mortal taint?a Lara asked under her breath. Emyras shoulders pinched and he turned a sharp look on her. Lara scowled back, sullen in her defiance and not particularly caring. Nor did she expect an answer, and a touch of her outrage was mollified by the fact that he bothered.

aYes. Your nearness pulls at the warp and weft of Seelie magic. Oisn was not cursed with immortality without youth; that he ages was the unintended price of magics worked on a man of mortal birth. Now go, as far away as my son can take you without leaving these lands.a aWhoas Oisn?a For the second time, Lara forwent Emyras answer, turning to walk away, arms folded under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Dafydd scrambled after her, offering an answer she wasnat certain she wanted, given that it offered him an excuse to talk to her at all.

aOisn is our seer, the one who sent me to your world to look for you. There are stories about him, legends.a aI donat like fairy tales.a Dafydd, ill-advisedly, breathed, aAnd yet here you are, partic.i.p.ating in one.a aYou son of a b.i.t.c.h.a Shrieking discordance rushed through Lara, infuriating talent picking apart impossibilities and untruths. Furious, frustrated, she spun and rushed away from him, strides just short enough to not be called a run. A moment later she pushed through the audience chamberas great doors, the violent slap of her palms against them shocking through her elbows. They were obviously meant to open with a mere touch: under her thrust they flew back, startling everyone but her with their bang.

Wind, as if affronted by the a.s.sault, s.n.a.t.c.hed at her gown and hair, making her feel like shead been transformed into a wild thing in the s.p.a.ce of an instant, and then fell away again as abruptly as it had risen, leaving Lara with the impression that the air itself was shocked by her mere mortality and how easy it was to rumple her.

aLara aa Dafyddas placating voice came after her.

She turned back to him in such a snap of skirts it seemed the wind hadnat left her at all. aDonat try to charm me right now, your highness. Youare right, maybe I wouldnat have come here if youad told me youad killed Merrick yourself. But you should have given me the choice. Or did you just think you were being clever, hiding things from the nave human truthseeker?a Her lips peeled away from her teeth, her expression feral enough that it drove Dafydd half a step backward.

Laraas snarl turned to a sneer, belittling his cowardice in the face of her wrath. aIall help,a she said. aIall help because I said I would, but Iam going home the second this is over. In the meantime, stay out of my way.a She whipped around again and stalked away, leaving Dafydd to stand alone on the citadelas steps like Cinderellaas prince.

Fifteen.

Within minutes, embarra.s.sment outweighed Laraas anger. Running away was a childas trick, and like a child, shead failed to pay any attention to her path. The citadelas vast ghostly shape above the trees wasnat enough to guide her back on the path shead taken, though she might be able to work her way back by heading toward its graceful spires. Might: the idea of briar rose patches and moats, things of fairy tales, presented themselves to her as likely deterrents surrounding the heart of the Seelie court. The forest seemed improbably thick so close to the palace, wild and grown-over rather than the widespread oak trees and soft undergrowth shead seen surrounding ancient castles in photographs.

But those were images captured in a different world. Magic bent the rules here; there was hardly any reason to suppose things like forests or landscaping would follow the same patterns they did at home.

The thought felt too big, too unwieldy to be accepted. Lara, overwhelmed, sank into a huddle of moss and branches that softened to make a comfortable seat for her weight. For long minutes she sat with her head in her hands, eyes dry as she stared at the forest floor.

She had no way home except through Dafyddas goodwill. Scorning him, despite his treachery, had been a mistake, though even as she admitted that, irritation washed through her. He ought to have followed her, for all that shead told him not to. The contradiction pulled a reluctant smile to her lips: men, whether human or fae, were right to be confounded by women.

aAnd so we are,a came a voice from the forest. Lara jolted in her mossy chair, too entangled to come to her feet. aForgive me,a the voice added. aI forget how silent the forest is until the silence is broken. I am Oisn.a He came out of the trees as he spoke, a bent and ancient man with a heavy staff and filmed-over white eyes, though his step was more certain than Laraas had been as shead run from the palace. Like everyone shead seen, he was dressed beautifully, but there was nothing ethereal or inhuman about the soft robes he wore. The collar was high, the shoulders winged, the colored wraps around his middle of the finest material: each piece was as richly made as anything that graced the Seelie, and yet the whole was somehow imbued with a solidity that made the old man as human as Lara herself was.

Oisn settled into a hummock across from her, smile flitting across lips thinned with age. aItas only in our youth that they can dress us and make of us a semblance of what they are. You carry Myfanwyas gown well, better than I ever wore their fas.h.i.+ons, and I have not been young for a long time.a aHow long?a Lara cleared her throat, trying to erase the crack in her words and her discomfort at asking the question.

Another smile danced over the old manas mouth. aOh, forever, to be sure, by the reckoning of those such as you and I. Eight hundred years,a he added more softly, and gave a shrug as easy as a younger manas. aPerhaps longer. Time here is not the same.a aEight huna"a Lara broke off, staring at the old man.

He spread his fingers, promise of a story, and made a song of his answer. aAnother truthseeker of human origin might have sought the heart of ancient legends, delving into their truths, but that seeker would have lived a life unfulfilled, Lara Jansen. Legends are born of men, and men must die, and with them the truths only they can tell. Not even the strongest of magics can draw honest tales from the dead: memory is too fragile, and deeds done to greatness are easier remembered as wonders, even by those who did them. Youave chosen a wiser path, creating beautiful things for the world around you. There is joy in that, where there is rarely joy in truth.

aBut here I am neither dead nor mortal, and so I can give you a truth that no one in the world we both came from will know or believe: it is, after all, only part of another story.

aThere are things that open pa.s.sages between the worlds. Magic, such as that which brought you here, but mortal words, as well: poetry or song, when itas crafted just so. I was a poet even before I came here, and that gift let me glimpse my lady Rhiannon across the breach between the Barrow-lands and our own home world. I followed her here. They will say in the stories that I fell back to my own world a blind old man, but in truth I stepped back a youth with all my own strength still mine.a aBut time had pa.s.sed you by,a Lara whispered. aHow much time?a aEnough. Enough that I no longer knew the young men, or even their grandfathers. We were less careful in the keeping of years then, but when I heard my own name in a song about the fair folk, I knew that it had been time enough that I no longer belonged with mortal kin. I began to write again,a he murmured, aand in time the walls faded a second time and I returned to the Barrow-lands. Here I was granted immortality, but even Seelie magic isnat enough to hold youth on a once-mortal frame.

aI have not been young in eight hundred years,a he said again, then smiled on a sigh. aBut I lived among the Seelie, not yet old, for such a very long time before that.a aForever,a Lara said in a small voice, and the unwelcome ache of truth rang through it.

aForever,a Oisn agreed. aThereas my tale, Truthseeker, and now I have yours to spin for you. Itas my own fault youare here, and for that I offer apologies and gladness. If we have time, I would like to hear whatas become of the world I left; there have been no visitors in so long that Iave lost all sense of it.a aI donat think Iad know where to begin.a The old manas smile came again, a comfortable expression, as though head long since given up regrets and found pleasure in each moment as it pa.s.sed. aMy story for you is the more important. Did young Dafydd tell you of the prophecy?a Laraas eyebrows arched. aYoung? How old is he? And, yes, some kind of chant that I donat remember. Except the part about breaking the world. I canat do that. How could I do that?a Oisn, wryly, said, aHere, everyone is young except for me.a His voice dropped into a singsong, losing the music of his earlier tale. aTruth will seek the hardest path, measures that must mend the past. Finder learns the only way, worlds come changed at end of day. I know,a he added, amused. aThe poetry lacks. My own work is, I like to think, better, but these are words that come to me in fits, as visions of the world to come.a aBut thatas not what Dafydd said. He saida"a Lara pressed her fingertips to her eyelids, trying to draw up the memory. aThe first part was the same, but the second part changed. Something about a spoken in a childas word, because he apologized for that. Spoken in a childas word, changes that will break the world. Thatas what he said. Why did it change?a She glanced up to find a frown etched between Oisnas eyebrows.

aProphecy a flexes. It alters as circ.u.mstances do. Changes that will break the world, spoken in a childas word, or finder learns the only way, worlds come changed at end of day. Thereas something gentler about the newer version, is there not? Though I fear either way this land will not be what it was, Lara Jansen, when you are finished here. If you meet any other seers, ask them for a foretelling. The differences may be important.a aIf I meeta"Am I likely to?a Lara stared at him, uncertain if interest or fear dominated her emotions.

aNo,a Oisn said, suddenly genial again. aThe gift is as rare as truthseeking, and no one else in the Seelie court bears it. Still, youall return to our world, and we mortals have a knack for surprising even ourselves.a aI think Iave had enough surprises for one day. What do the rhymes mean?a Lara shook her head before the ancient poet spoke. aYou canat tell me, can you?a aNot the way you would like me to, no.a He leaned forward, offering a hand. Lara put her fingers into his, surprised at his warmth, and at the strength with which he imparted comfort with a squeeze. aI could tell you of mystical journeys and unfolding power, but I think even the most literal-minded of truthseekers might gather that much from the prophecies.a aI did finally learn to understand metaphor,a Lara admitted. aaTruth will seek the hardest patha sounds straightforward even to me. Truth is always a hard path. But if Iam supposed to be truth, then what about the new line you just said? Whoas the finder? Do your visions show you pictures?a aOnly words, Iam afraid. Stories have only ever been words to me, even before I lost my sight to age. Your path will lead you to the finder, or you will become what you seek, and we will bend or break with the changes wrought.a A finality came into his voice, like a bell tolling the end of some solemn service. Lara caught her breath, searching for questions that could be given quick, easy answers, but the music and the moment pa.s.sed before she could voice any. Rueful with defeat, she looked around the wooded copse surrounding them and shook her head.

aWell, right now the truth is going to have a hard time seeking the path out of here, because I wasnat paying any attention when I came in.a aThat,a Oisn said lightly, aI think I can help you with, Truthseeker. There is a path, a true way through these woods, and your eyes should be able to find it. Most could not.a aAll I can do is tell if someoneas lying, Oisn. I canat even do that if they think theyare telling the truth.a aHave more faith,a murmured the old man. aClose your eyes and look for the light.a Lara shot him a skeptical look that went unheeded, his blind gaze serene enough to hint at laughter. She pulled a face, drily certain that Oisn would know it, and closed her eyes as she muttered aLook for the lighta to herself.

The forestas silence closed around her as her lashes came together. Wind trickled through trees, disturbing leaves, but there were no other sounds: no distant traffic, no whine of airliners, no voices raised in laughter or debate as there were at any hour in Bostonas streets. She had never known quiet to be overwhelming, but in the Seelie forest it had a presence of its own, surrounding her, cus.h.i.+oning her, pressing at her.

Look for the light, she reminded herself, but truthfulness had never come to her as light or dark; it came as music. Music didnat, as a rule, make paths, though afollow the yellow brick road!a popped into her mind at the thought. She smiled, imagining such a road unfolding a brick at a time in front of her, though in an instant its color faded to white: yellow brick was simply too much at odds with the deep forest surrounding her. The music changed as well, shying from the perky traveling tune to a more subtle ringing, so deep inside her that for long seconds she didnat recognize it as a tone.

Silver: moonlight on silver, so pure it had no earthly counterpart; that was its sound, and in her mindas eye the brick road shead built shot forward, drawing a line through the trees. She opened her eyes, unsurprised to find Oisn gone, and even less surprised to find a path leading straight and unbroken toward the ghostly white palace.

Heartbeat queer with the chimeas power, Lara got to her feet and followed her magic back into the heart of the Seelie court.

The glimpses shead had going to and from Aerinas chambers had been accurate: there were open s.p.a.ces large enough to be called parks within the cityas heart, wilderness of the forest beyond tamed by ivory walls and open arches that, had it been a human park, Lara might have called gates or fences. They were neither: even the contained stretches of forest were too much a part of the city to be bound by such words, as if they had all grown up together, part and parcel of one another. She saw that clearly as the sound of the chimes drew her through the citadelas halls.

Her sure feet led her to an arched doorway more elegant than any shead seen so far. The music fell away suddenly, leaving silence broken by voices that seemed sharp and uncomfortable after the strength of chimes: Emyr, making demands. Demanding her presence, in fact, in such short commanding words that good sense deserted her and she stepped into the filigree doorway.

The kingas private chambers were chilly, silver-woven tapestries on the walls doing little to catch heat and keep it from escaping. The windows were rimed, and the floor beneath her feet crackled with h.o.a.rfrost. Heatless light rained from the tall ceiling as Lara had seen everywhere in the citadel, but in the heart of Emyras domain it caught silver and ice and brought the room to a s.h.i.+ning, cool brilliance that only reinforced its chill. Looking around, Lara wondered if Dafydd had any real desire to a.s.sume his fatheras icy mantle, or if he would as happily let that relentless cold power pa.s.s to Ioan. But then, they were Seelie: immortal in almost all ways, and perhaps a kingas heir was that in name only. Neither child might ever rule.

The second son stood a few yards away from his father, his whole body tensed for action: he was already turning toward the door, no doubt to do Emyras bidding, when Lara said, drily, aDonat bother. Sheas here.a Both men flinched, a more gratifying response than Lara had expected. A smile swept Dafyddas face, then disappeared, leaving a boyish hope in its wake. He didnat want her to be angry with him, and Lara, searching for the emotion, found that it had largely washed away in the forest. Wry exasperation rose in its place: Kelly would say a man she couldnat stay angry at was a keeper.

There was no such friendliness in Emyras gaze. He turned away from a basin-topped pedestal, mouth tight with displeasure. aHow far did you go?a Lara caught her fingers in the delicate archway to keep herself from backing up. aI went into the forest. I donat know how far. Ten minutes or so, beforea"a aBefore?a Emyr glared down at her, such a picture of lordly pique that the impulse to retreat faded. Shead been second or third tailor to men who reminded her of the Seelie king: men whose self-worth was so invested in how they looked that they jumped on imagined slights. Emyr, she had no doubt, had the confidence those men didnat, but the similarity was enough to let his irritation sluff away without bothering her.

aBefore Oisn found me,a she said steadily. aWe talked for a little while and then he showed me how to find my way back.a aOisn.a Distasteful resignation slithered across Emyras features. aThat explains much.a He returned his attention to the basin, silver hair falling over his shoulders as he leaned in.

Lara muttered aOh good,a and felt discordance race over her skin, inborn talent not caring for the sarcasm in her own voice. aWhatas explained?a aThe Barrow-lands have only known one kind of mortal magic for a very long time. Yours is new, and disruptive. When it met Oisnasa"think of it as two waves coming together to create a larger one.a Dafydd brought his hands together in demonstration.

Lara looked between father and son, her gaze finally settling on Emyras stooped shoulders. aSo you canat do magic? Iam sorry. Is there anything Ia"a aYou do too much already,a Emyr snapped. aI had thought a simple spell to isolate your power would do, but with mortal magic met, there is a tide that would take a great binding to hold back. To work it would require the willingness of the land, and the land,a he said bitterly, ais very fond of Oisn. I cannot fight it to set you apart and work the scrying magic at the same time.a aCanat Dafydda"a aThe scrying spell is one of ice and water,a Dafydd murmured apologetically. aNeither is my element.a aWhat is?a The golden Seelie prince turned his palm upward, fingertips curved in. Electric sparks flew between them, lightning made miniature before it faded away. Lara made fists against sudden embarra.s.sment. aRight. The sword you fought the nightwings with was electricity. I shouldave known.a Dafydd arched an eyebrow, the expression sympathetic. aHardly. Truthseeking gives no hint to the elemental strengths and weaknesses of Seelie magics.a aBut the doorway you made to bring us here. And you healed yourself. Those werenat lightning.a aThe healing is a matter of what we are. We die, Truthseeker, but not easily. Poison magic felled Merrick. And the doorway,a Emyr said sharply, ais a magic of the Barrow-lands itself, as setting you apart would be. Without its agreement, Dafydd would never have opened a pa.s.sage to your world or back again. Itas a deeper magic than any he has ever worked, and it is an unwelcome one. Once we pa.s.sed easily between the worlds, but no longer. The iron and steel of your world damages ours, and to open a pathway risks our very being.a Lara swallowed an oh and wet her lips, hardly daring to look at Dafydd. aIam sorry. I didnat know. Am Ia"a Nerves closed her throat and she swallowed a second time, trying to clear it. aAm I going to be able to go home?a aOisn wouldnat have sent me for a mortal truthseeker if he believed traveling between your world and the Barrow-lands would endanger us,a Dafydd said with quiet confidence.

Changes that will break the world. The last line of the rough poem whispered in Laraas mind, freezing her thoughts. Never mind being able to go home; she wasnat sure shead dare, with the truthseeker prophecy hanging over her head. The life shead lived there was hardly worth risking an entire world over.

Regret seized her at the idea, sudden tears blurring her vision. Her life wasnat worth risking a world for, but the idea of never saying good-bye cut deeply enough to take her breath. Her friends, Kelly and Cynthia especially, would never understand; her mother would never stop grieving.

The need to move, to break away from the promise of a future that threatened to lock her in place, seized Lara in its grip. She jerked forward as though shead been pushed, crossing the room with rough steps and only stopping when she came to Emyras side at the tall basin. She caught its edge, cold rising through her palms to make her wrists ache, and she lowered her head, blinking furiously to force tears away.

They fell regardless, striking the frozen surface of the pool and hissing. Heat spread, thinning ice, and Lara caught a glimpse of her own wide-eyed expression before blinding sunlight shot out of the basin. The reflection was painful, ricocheting migraine auras through her vision, and she jerked a hand upward, trying to cover her eyes.

Instead, Emyras hand came down over hers in an icy, unforgiving touch that forbade her to move. She yanked, trying to pull free, and his grip tightened, numbing her fingers until she thought they were frozen against the basinas edge.

He nodded, one sharp silent motion, when her eyes met his: nodded toward the basin, returning her attention to it. Both furious and frightened, she gave up trying to free her hand and looked back into the brilliant water.

Sunlight still glared around the basinas sides, but it had faded from the center, leaving a gem-blue sky over fields seething with green and black and white and red. It took long seconds for the writhing images to resolve in Laraas mind.

Then, as if someone had taken blinders from her eyes, the inexplicable ma.s.s became men and women, hundreds of them, even thousands, all clas.h.i.+ng together beneath the clear sky. Fewer than half the warriors had the light-colored hair that marked the Seelie. The greater number had darker hair, black and brown and deep copper red: the Unseelie army, Lara guessed, whose coloring made them look like the other half of the too-pale Seelie people to her eyes. They looked complete, even coming together as enemies instead of as a h.o.m.ogeneous whole.

And to play up their differencesa"it could only be deliberatea"the warring factions wore armor of moonlight and of sable, drawn together by nothing but the spatter of red blood as bodies fell. In the abstract, it was beautiful.

In truth, it was terrible. Lara cried out, a sound of protest she couldnat stop, but her hands refused to obey a command to release the basinas edge. Across the battlefield, the warriors stopped, looking skyward, as though theyad heard her voice and were searching for its source. Heartened by the idea that she could be heard, Lara drew breath to demand they stop.

Her words were blocked by fingertips over her lips, Dafyddas eyes regretful as he shook his head. Lara jerked her head away, looking back to the basin, but the moment was lost: on the field, battle heat overtook the brief pause, and soldiers again began to fall beneath swords and arrows.

An arrowhead of midnight-armored warriors appeared, coming out of the ma.s.sed ranks as though magic had guided them to thrust deep into Seelie territory. It wasnat impossible that magic had. Seelie warriors fell on the dark-clad soldiers, but their leader caught Laraas eye, drawing her attention.

The images in the basin s.h.i.+fted, closing in on the arrowhead like a lens pulling in for a close-up. Once; then a second time, narrowing down to a youth in black armor who used his sword as though it were a part of himself. It took a moment for Lara to understand why head caught her attention, and then her breath disappeared from her lungs. He was fair-haired, fair-skinned, and leading a host of fighters much darker than he was. She knew who he was, knew it with the ringing clarity of truth that dogged her even when she might have preferred ignorance. Knew it, and knew that Emyr would not forgive her for showing him what they all now saw.

Ioan ap Caerwyn, son of the Seelie king, led the Unseelie army against his own people.

Sixteen.

Lara flung herself back, escaping Emyras grip. The images in the water ruptured in a burst of ice and fog, Ioanas face lingering for a few seconds in the shards that fell to the floor. Dafydd stared at them, then jerked his attention to Emyr, and to the failed magic of the scrying pool. Lara, trembling, looked from man to man, and whispered, aWhat happened?a aIt shouldnat have happened,a Dafydd said when it became clear Emyr would not speak. aThe pool, the magic, they belong to the king, but he didnata"a He broke off, staring at Lara again, then pa.s.sed a hand over his eyes as if trying to pull composure together by hiding his face. aHe had not yet cast the scrying spell, Lara. He couldnat, with your presence pulling the warp and weft of the Barrow-landsa magic.a aScrying spell,a Lara breathed. aThatas what that was? It wasa"It was like somewhere else came to life in the ice.a aAs you say.a Dafydd carefully didnat look toward his father, but Lara did, and cringed at the coldness of his expression. aNo one should have been able to awaken what is Emyras to command, Lara, least of all a mortal. And even if someone else had the power to awaken it, you shouldnat have been able to call forth future visions.a aFuta"Is that what that was?a Not for the first time, Lara thought it would be easier to take refuge in disbelief, but the strength and tenor of Dafyddas voice brooked no room for lies.

aIt was.a Dafydd crossed to the pool, staring into its waters again, and spoke more to Emyr than Lara, but more to himself than anyone else present, she thought. aTruthseekers could once predict a thing, and make it true through force of will.a aThe pool,a Emyr said icily, ais meant to show things that are, not what may be.a aIs it so different?a Dafydd kept his gaze on the still waters. Lara retreated from them both, falling into silence in lieu of disappearing from their presence entirely. aPerhaps in a truthseekeras hands itas as easily a tool to show what will be. I wonder what it might have shown had Merrick lived.a aYou mean would it show him fighting for our people as Ioan has chosen to fight with the Unseelie?a Sarcasm ran thick through Emyras voice. aYou would expect him to don our moonlight armor and fight at your side, and be betrayed should he choose otherwise. And yet I am betrayed that Ioan sides with his foster family.a He released the basin and stepped away more slowly than Lara had, expression too remote to be angry. aWhat have you done?a he said softly, and the question was for neither Lara nor Dafydd. It might have been for Emyr himself: he, after all, had sent his son away as hostage, and in so doing had, it seemed, given Hafgan a coveted second heir.

aYou never saw Merrick as your son,a Dafydd whispered unexpectedly, hearing something in Emyras question that Lara couldnat. aYou never dreamed that Ioan might accept another as a father. He was a child, Father. He was a boy when you sent him to the Unseelie court. They were the family he knew. Yes, I would have expected Merrick to fight by my side, and so I can believe that Ioan might fight by Hafganas. Thatas what heas done. Why heas done it.a Silence drew out before he murmured aIam sorrya with such an ache Laraas heart hurt to hear it.

Lara found her voice in the echoes of Dafyddas speech, and pushed herself away from the wall, determined to understand more clearly. Emyr focused on her as she moved, and Dafydd made a short, awkward motion, like he wanted to warn her away from coming to his fatheras attention. Too late: having captured it, she stood tall and met the monarchas gaze. aWhy wouldnat you let me go, or let me talk?a aBecause when the pool is awakened only the spellcaster can guide or release the magic, and I had things I needed to see before you let it go.a There was no anger in Emyras voice, but his control, his containment, was worse. Dafydd, apparently liking it no more than she did, stepped forward a second time, almost putting himself between Lara and his father. Emyr gave him a withering glance, then looked back at Lara. aSpeech travels through the scrying spell, and we looked on a day that has not yet dawned. You couldnat be allowed to speak and perhaps affect that day through what you do not know of its making.a aHow do you know it was the future?a There was no doubt in either manas voice, but hope flashed through Lara and died again at Emyras cold look.

aIt could hardly be the past. I can a.s.sure you I have never yet seen my son ride against me in battle. And it could hardly be the present.a He gestured toward a window, where dark-leaved trees whispered against the night. aIt was a day yet to come, and I do not thank you for showing me what it holds.a His bleak gaze turned on Dafydd, pinning him in place. The Seelie prince s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably, casting his gaze downward. It struck Lara that she found it easier to meet Emyras eyes than his own son did, and wondered what it said that she could stand under his gimlet glares as calmly as she did.

aIt seems you are my only heir,a Emyr said to Dafydd. aAs such, you will ride with the army tomorrow.a Dafydd lowered his head, shock whitening his face, but his whispered aYour will, my lord,a was nearly lost under Laraas incredulous, aThat canat be a good decision!a Emyr turned on her, angry enough that spots stood out on his cheeks, but she stepped into his s.p.a.ce, frustrated beyond thoughts of caution. aSend your only heir onto the battlefield? Especially when, given that heas now leading an army that I a.s.sume wants to wipe you out, Ioan is the most likely candidate for having murdered Merrick ap Annwn in the first place?a From their expressions, it was clear neither of the men had considered the possibility, which did nothing to change the ring of truth Lara heard in her own words. aIt wasnat someone here,a she said, exasperated. aNot in the citadel, anyway, if you really did gather them all into the courtroom earlier. And you did,a she added, aat least as far as you know, you did. Iad have known if you were lying. But come on.a She looked from king to prince and back again, hands opened in demanding supplication. aAerin didnat think a spell could be cast that would sunder someoneas will, but isnat it starting to add up? You said you might be able to do it, right, Emyr?a Too late she realized she should have used an honorific. Emyras expression, dark to begin with, blackened entirely. Lara ground aYour majestya through her teeth, and judged shead done very little to alleviate her error. It didnat matter that much; the worst he could do was kill her, and it was far more likely head send her back home. aYou thought you might be able to do it, because youave got greater scope to your power than most people do. Ioan isa"wasa"your heir. Wouldnat he have to have talent on the same level you do?a Emyr nodded grudgingly. Buoyed, Lara went on. aAnd heas been raised in the Unseelie court, which is where most of your court thinks that kind of magic would be condoned.a aBut why?a From another, the question might have been plaintive. From Emyr, it somehow bordered on a threat.

aPower. Sympathy for the people heas been raised with. Even just trying to save his own hide. I donat know. Heas your son.a aNo longer. Dafydda"a Emyr swung toward his son, dismissing Lara. Incensed, she stepped closer, almost daring to catch his sleeve. It wasnat necessary: he went still, then turned his head toward her incrementally, clearly disbelieving her audacity.

aIf Iam right, and I donat know if I amaa"Clarity rang in that, too: her talent couldnat differentiate between reasonable possibilities and the genuine trutha"athen Dafydd is the only thing standing between you and the Barrow-lands falling into Unseelie hands. It is not wise to put him on the field, Emyr.a aAnd yet it must be done,a Dafydd broke in.

Lara gaped at him and he sighed. aIf Ioan leads the Unseelie army, a fair number of our own people will refuse to fight unless they have a banner of their own. The choices are myself or my father, and Iam the more expendable.a Music chimed, giving weight to what he said. Lara folded her arms under her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. aI know you believe thatas true, buta"a aAnd,a Dafydd said, more strongly, aif Ioanas hand was the one that directed mine in slaying Merrick, then it is my wish to meet him on the field and exact the price from his flesh.a aAnd what if it was?a Lara snapped. aWhat if he does it again? Youare not going to be much of a banner to the Seelie army if you suddenly turn around and start hacking at them.a aIall be prepared against it this time, Lara. Itas much more difficult to bespell someone who is prepared for you.a aSo, what? Youare going to ride up to him and say, aBy the way, Ioan, did you possess me and make me kill Merrick?a Do you really think heas going to openly confess to murder?a aOf course not,a Emyr said softly. aWhich is why youall be riding at Dafyddas side.a Lara, wearing armor that had been fas.h.i.+oned for her while she slept, glowered at Dafyddas shoulders around the edges of her fine, lightweight helm, and wished herself somewhere, anywhere, else. It had no effect: magic wasnat that accommodating.

She had argued, partly from fear, partly from dismay, partly from barely knowing which end of a sword to hold, until the glint of exasperation in Emyras eyes had turned to a wall. She didnat remember being sleepy, but one moment shead been arguing and the next head said, aYou must rest before dawn,a and she had known nothing after that until an already-armored Aerin awakened her and strapped her into moonlit armor of her own.

She had been fed, put on a horse, she was told, bespelled: she literally could not fall off unless the animal died beneath her. Aerin had shoved her hard a couple of times to prove it true, and split a wicked smile when Lara, sullenly, had pointed out that she could hear the truth in the explanation and didnat need to be pushed around.

Now she scowled at Dafydd, honing anger so it would outweigh fear. He had come to her once she was on horseback, wrapping an armored hand around her equally armored calf: metal, light as this stuff was, did not make for easy intimacies. aI do need you,a head said quietly. aI would not kill my brother without knowing for certain that my actions were just, and there is no one but you who can tell me that.a Lara had bit her tongue on the question aIs that all you need me for?a and had instead glared down at him. Even sick with terror, her face overheated and her hands cold, it was hard to be angry with him, especially seeing him prepared for war.

The bright pale armor could have been worked moonlight, for all she could tell: it was that light, and that beautiful. Even in the coming dawn its shadows were blue and purple, intricate designs etched into it whispering stories of the night. The fanciful idea that the Seelie were a night people had caught her, and had stayed with her as she watched the men and women around her armoring up and taking saddle. They were so pale, so fragile-looking, as though daylight took their strength and the night returned it.