Chapter Twelve
Zyr
To Zyr’s near disappointment, it wasn’t the cat-sith on his doorstep. He would have enjoyed watching Robin follow through on his threat of skinning. Instead, two others from the meeting waited when Zyr opened his front door.
“Knock knock,” the manticore said, soft as falling leaves.
The redcap stood at their side, rosy-cheeked and beaming. Neither of them stood higher than Robin’s shoulder. Points for novelty, if nothing else. It was rare to encounter a manticore or a redcap, let alone both at once.
In part, that was why he allowed them inside. But mostly, it was the knowledge of how obnoxiously persistent they might become if he refused. Even Zyr knew them by reputation. Two of Faerie’s most notorious killers were unlikely to be dissuaded by a locked door.
“You have five minutes,” he said, pointedly not inviting them to sit down or offering hospitality.
“Five minutes that gets cut off at the knees if I hear a single word implying Zyr’s a traitor,” Robin added, voice sharp.
The redcap grinned in answer, all sweetness, showing off their red-tipped teeth.
“Me’n Abrhail weren’t the ones singing treason at the table.
We talked chips. Easy, flipping shit and sniffing blood in the water, getting your teeth ready to gnaw.
Stupid, but easy. Sure as shit didn’t look to go making ourselves look buddy-buddy with the fluffy bitch elbowing in on a friendly conversation.
” The redcap shrugged, their hands palm up.
“Didn’t even bring my favorite toys to show we came here friendly like.
See? Abrhail can’t help the tail none. Part of their charm. ”
“I’ll keep it off the table,” the manticore added, leaning into the redcap, so their shoulders brushed.
“You had better.” Zyr decided not to ask how many of their less favorite toys the redcap had secreted around their person. The list would likely take the full five minutes. “If any limb, tail or otherwise, comes within reach of Robin, I remove it.”
“Relax. We don’t do freebies.” The manticore kicked the door closed, stepping over to the couch like they were welcome. “Be quite the fucking price tag, a dragon in his lair. You do it for an allotment, Teddai? Going rate for troublesome unseelie, these days.”
The redcap scoffed, eyes rolling skyward, as they followed after their bond.
“Didn’t take the call on a free-range sluagh with a powerless bond. Abrhail’n me, we’re too pretty to end up strewn on a beach in pieces,” they said with a sneer, fingertips ghosting over the curve of the manticore’s elbow. “Wouldn’t take this one, neither.”
“On a beach in pieces?” Robin asked.
“Lovely little Declan. Got himself a shoal of nereids trying to call the night early.
Open season, promise of an allotment. Then whispers of that shoal left in jellied, rotted chunks on a beach came through.
Funniest news of the decade, ‘til the Hollow offed the qilin and the brownie died with himself stuffed full of black rot at a party.”
“Oh.” Robin blinked. “Huh.”
“Right? So’s, yeah, nah, since me’n Abrhail don’t take stupid fucking jobs, no going after a beithir in his hidey-hole.
” Another bloody smile. “Now, if one’a the Monarchs comes calling, says, ‘Teddai, I’ll slit my immortal throat until I bleed like a stuck pig and die proper, forever, if you slit the dragon’s throat in his lair’, I figure that might be worth a call.
Don’t worry none, though. That’d be me scurrying over with an offer of a knick at the pulsey bit and a quick heal in return for an offed Monarch. ”
As reassurances went, Zyr supposed that the redcap’s was effective.
“Is that why you’re here?” he asked, dry as a manticore’s desert. “To inform me that you aren’t interested in killing me? A note would have sufficed.”
“Didn’t say we weren’t interested. We always make it interesting.
” The manticore smiled at their redcap bond, a slight, but unmistakably fond expression.
The softness, like the redcap’s sweet appearance, gave their murmured words an extra sting.
“Not stupid, though. I’ll roll the dice, but only if they’re weighted. ”
“The point,” Zyr growled.
“Point is, we don’t like enemies. Living enemies.
And since everyone in the room’s keeping their blood inside and their tails off the table, we wanted to kiss and make up.
Easier to do it now then when everyone’s shouting again.
Missed quite the show while you were tucked away, getting to know each other. ”
This time, there was nothing soft about the manticore’s smile. Sharp and insinuating, though without the cat-sith’s leering dislike.
The redcap cackled in turn. “Nice and cozy, the both of you, while the kitty’s claws were out.”
“Like I told the cat-sith: if you think fifteen minutes of silence means a mindblowing fuck, I pity everyone you've taken to bed,” Robin replied, rolling his eyes. “And stop telling on yourselves like that, good grief.”
“Quarter hour silent fuck that gets a beithir's good graces, just means you're the best blow this side of the veil,” the redcap corrected, with no little delight. “Impressive.”
“We weren't fucking.”
“Too bad, so sad, heard Faerie likes it when your family gets cozied up to unseelie. Abrhail got it right, though. Missed some talk while you weren't going at it. So we brought news and gifties. To make nice.”
“The Solstice Kings aren’t a lineage, they’re a form of worship,” Zyr corrected, distracted by the press of Robin’s foot against his own. “What did we miss that you believe is so valuable?”
“Kisses first, then the making up.” The manticore’s whispering laugh was quickly growing grating.
“You two go ahead,” Zyr replied. “We’ll wait.”
“Whaddya say?” The redcap leered at Robin, bright red eyebrows wiggling. “Pucker up?”
“My version of a kiss was not asking Zyr to fry you the second you came inside.”
The redcap turned to their manticore bond, fluttering their lashes. “He speaks our love language.”
“My warning stands,” Zyr snapped, thunder in his voice.
“No touching.” The manticore held up their empty hands. “Only talking.”
“I’m actually curious about what they said,” Robin said, mostly to Zyr. “Presumably no one mentioned blood sacrifices during a massive orgy.”
“Wait, that’s an option?” asked the redcap, all bright enthusiasm.
“Theoretically, with the Solstice Kings as willing participants and blood sacrifices, yes. I don’t recommend suggesting it to either of them.”
To say Zyr was fond of the Solstice Kings would be a stretch. But the Summer King was tolerable enough. And the Winter King bore scars he recognized.
Not to mention, they were Robin’s family.
“Call it plan B,” said the manticore, with a shrug.
“And best hurry up with plan A. Anyway, the little screaming match you missed. Got the kelpie, the sluagh, the banshee, and both humans on your side. Aultyr and Harke, always hard to say. Not against you. Spider, never fucking know what he’s thinking.
Always smiling. The siren and the seelie?
Think they need what you got, and would slit your belly to get it.
But the cat-sith and his bond, they’re your problem.
The cat talked himself around. Know what I mean?
Worse kind of stupid, when you tell a lie and then believe it. ”
“Usually, Aisling on your end, would say the puppies were a sure bet,” the redcap added, leaning against the manticore’s shoulder. “Aultyr works loads for her. But, dunno. Changelings are close. Toss up. Abrhail’s got the right of it. The cat was talking shit about being in the Monarchs’ pockets.”
Traitor. In the Monarchs’ pockets. Zyr gritted his teeth, electricity building over his skin.
He wanted to stay as he was, foot pressed to Robin’s, but soon enough, standing so close would be uncomfortable for the human.
He took a single step to the side, and let the barb of his tail dig into the pitted floor, though far from where Robin stood.
“Do I even want to know what you two were saying?” Robin asked, and Zyr could feel his tension, despite the new distance.
“Disagreeing with the cat on principle. Fuck if I know. When people start shriekin’, Abrhail likes us to listen. So we listen. But we’re not the issue. Kitty’s got himself a big mouth, and his bond’s one of those enabling sorts.”
“Cat’s a fanatic,” the manticore said. “You can taste it on him. Ready and eager to do the necessary thing. But doesn’t know shit about necessity.”
“I’ll trust a manticore on necessity,” Zyr replied. It was their aspect, after all. Cruel necessity. “Why does the cat have a seat at the table?”
“He doesn’t. It’s his bond. The yuki-onna.
Works for the monarchs. And she’ll do anything her sweet pussy-cat asks.
She’s got the keys and he’s the one who wants to use them.
” The manticore glanced at their bond, head tilted, some silent conversation passing between them.
“Could kill him. Bit of a job, but not hard. Tedious. We don’t do freebies, but if you want that instead of your present… ”
“What kind of gift is it that you’re willing to kill the bond of a fae with those connections in its place?” Robin asked, all sharp curiosity. “Unless you work cheap.”
“We don’t,” the redcap replied, after another silent back and forth. “Like we said, we don’t like living enemies. Pesky. And if we do this thing, won’t be any fun to have a beithir with backing ticked at us. Especially when his sparkly isn’t a fan, either. Brought this.”
They smiled at Robin and held out a delicate hand. In the middle of their palm, a gleaming, deep blue ring rested. Zyr leaned closer, sensing the power radiating from it.
“Pre-convergence,” he murmured, mostly to himself.
“Fucker we took it off of used it as a septum. Abrhail made sure we cleaned it. Changes for what you need to put it on, and when you do,” a finger snap, “fae magic goes muted.”
“You’re lying,” Robin stated.
The redcap glanced at their bonded, then jammed the ring on their own finger. Immediately, their glamour dropped, revealing the streaks of red tears on their cheeks, their bloodshot eyes, and the halo of blood smattered over their clothes.
It was clear that the little display set the manticore on edge. Their tail lifted, and they shifted their stance, eyes locked on Zyr in silent, ready warning. And that was the only reason Zyr remained where he stood, instead of stepping forward to get a closer look at the ‘present.’
“Nuh-uh.” The recaps ears, too, leaked blood. “See?”
“Yes. I see.” Zyr waited until the redcap removed the ring, glamour settling back in place, before approaching.
“It’s the cat or the shiny.” The manticore’s tail relaxed, though they still watched Zyr openly. “Can’t have both.”
“I don’t need a new rug,” Zyr replied. Then, half to himself and half to Robin, “Such tokens aren’t so rare as you’d think.
Not common, of course. Too difficult to make and with limited utility.
They’re keyed to the wearer’s true name.
Teddai knows their own, of course, but were I to place it on them, it would do nothing. ”
“If you were to ‘place it on them,’ you’d be dead.”
Zyr ignored the manticore. “It’s pre-convergence work, and I don’t own one. Robin? Blood or treasure?”
“Treasure,” Robin said, without hesitation. “You don’t need a new rug, and the yuki-onna’s an important in.”
“No fun,” the redcap complained, holding out the ring until Zyr took it. “Don’t break that little silver gem bit there. It’s where the spellwork’s at.”
“I do know how to treat items of value.” He returned to Robin’s side and offered him the ring.
“Treasure,” Robin repeated, taking it with admirable care. “Magpies like treasure.”
Zyr refrained from pointing out that Robin was a treasure. Such an observation might not be welcome, and there were still two very deadly fae standing by his couch.
“Was there anything else?” he asked instead.
“We square?”
“Yes,” Zyr said, admiring the blue of the ring against Robin’s palm. “And you’ll have what you need from my library. Robin is seeing to it.”
“Better you than us.” The manticore tossed the words in Robin’s direction. “Teddai and me, we got shit to do.”
Robin’s mouth kicked up in a half smile. “Have fun with your shit. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Zyr stood at Robin’s side as the pair left, allowing the door to close itself behind them. He longed to return to the moment before, his head pressed to Robin’s shoulder and the tension of before easing into calm.
There was research to do. And that, with Robin’s continued presence, was already more than he’d hoped to have.