Chapter Twenty-Four
Zyr
“What the fuck, Robin.”
The words came from the Summer King, as he stalked across the siren’s sitting room, incandescent with protective anger. The Winter King followed after, flowing like water in his wake. No one else in the crowded room mattered.
“What happened?”
Robin lifted his hands, palm out. “I’m fine. I swear. Actually okay. We’re good.”
Two humans, flanked by two fae. The humans, all furious love. The fae more guarded. The Winter King's gaze swept first over Robin, then Zyr, before he spoke.
“You locked your wards. We couldn’t reach you.”
“It was prudent at the time,” Zyr replied, measuring how much to share. Probably not the bit about the lidérc’s poison and its impact. “It wasn’t our intention to worry either of you.”
“Of course,” said the Winter King. And then, gently, to Robin, “You know what it is to be unable to reach your brother. We feared for you.”
“I’m sorry.” Someone who watched Robin less closely might not have noticed the way he flinched at that gentle rebuke. Zyr saw, and flicked the human’s ankle with his tail. “I’ll fill you both in on the why later if you want.”
What followed was a silent conversation between the humans. Robin’s brother, Bo, stepped forward. Robin set his jaw. Bo looked away, dragging his hand through his hair.
“Yeah. Yes, fine, okay. Later,” Bo muttered, holding out Robin’s notebook. “Fuck. I– Here.”
“Thanks.” Robin took the notebook with as much ease as Bo had offered it. Which was to say, none. “After, okay? Back at the House.”
“I think,” said the dry voice of the tsuchigumo, “it’s the kidnapping, mysteriously expired House heads, and missing book on death magic that’s got them in a tizzy.”
Like all those in attendance, the tsuchigumo sat in a chair that appeared cobbled out of driftwood and shipwrecks.
Across from him was the fucking cat and his ice-skinned bond.
Not to mention Robin’s “murder twins.” And, clearly arrayed at the ‘head’ of the informal grouping, the siren and her changeling bond.
The other changeling, who’d accompanied them from their allotment, settled near the pair.
“It was a book on the veil,” Zyr corrected. “It merely contained theories on death magic.”
“Ah. My mistake.”
“Hope that ‘mysterious’ had air quotes around it.” said the cu-sith. He leaned against a wall, chairs ignored. “We all know who made sure Linden had new management.”
“Kesk and Veroni? They wouldn’t have.” The yuki-onna frowned up at Harke. “Taking over a House means the Monarchs will declare new heirs. They enjoy the status of it too much. Being special.”
And so started the bickering, just like the last time. Voices raised. Arguments and counterarguments. As if anyone knew who’d killed the head of Linden. As if it mattered, with the world threatening to burn to ash around them. Zyr growled and said nothing.
“Not to be the human in the room,” interrupted the Hollow, “but I’m a little more worried about this whole veil-destroying death magic thing. Are we talking fae flooding the human realm?”
“Worse,” Zyr answered. “Not destruction in the sense of dissolving but of solidifying. No passage between the worlds. And, as we have discussed, Faerie cannot survive without humanity.”
If Zyr had an illustrated version of Robin’s wheel, perhaps he would have understood the expressions that shifted across the Hollow’s face. He recognized the horror it settled to, though.
“Christ,” the man said. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s worse.”
In the silence that followed, Robin took a seat on a couch of bleached wood and tattered velvet, so Zyr sat beside him.
“We think a Gate’s involved,” Robin said, opening his notebook, pen at ready. “Anyone know one who wouldn’t mind getting offed in order to kill every person still stuck in Faerie when they did it?”
“Every fae, period. And any humans in Faerie.” The sluagh tapped his claws gently on his bond’s leg. “We are of Faerie. Even those of us in the human realm would not survive, should Faerie cease.”
The cat-sith scoffed, shaking his head. “Ridiculous. Old world theories. Faerie won’t die if the veil closes. Even if it might, no Gate would be involved. Nor would someone risk theirs.”
“I suspect the architects of this plan agree with you,” Zyr turned his gaze on Robin, lest looking at the fucking cat unsettle the warm calm that still followed him. “Save for Gate involvement. Most the seelie don’t like to admit our connection to humanity.”
“What got you there?” asked the barghest changeling. “Big jump between ‘got some books nicked’ to ‘rocks fall, we’re fucked.’”
And that was his cue. Still looking mostly at Robin, Zyr ordered his thoughts. He might dislike being in such a crowd, but he didn’t mind speaking on subjects that mattered to him, especially when doing so would put the fucking cat in his place.
“I would welcome a less dire conclusion,” he said, before bluntly summing up the study of the last few days.
First, what he’d learned from Hyacinth. Kesk and Veroni’s interest in the veil. The talk of ‘Fallen’ and the pair’s new confidence. His two missing books, one holding true names of long dead fae, the other suggesting the veil might be destroyed by the sacrifice of a Gate.
Their other, frustrated research, into a death magic that might take down the Monarchs, he left out. They’d found no conclusions, only research possibilities. If the Wild Hunt could somehow be called on the Monarchs themselves…
But how?
Not now. Zyr pressed his tail to Robin’s leg and found the moment again.
“I don’t think any here would doubt that Kesk, Veroni, and their ilk would destroy the veil if they could.” Someone said. Zyr wasn’t sure who.
“The veil. The entire human realm. Whatever they deem uncouth.” That was the tsuchigumo, still sounding dryly amused. “And you think this book of yours had the recipe?”
“I am certain they now know a method, provided they have minimal reading comprehension. The only question is whether they can obtain the capacity to use it. It would require a Gate, either unbound or willing, and the power to channel that Gate’s sacrifice.”
“If you’re correct, they intend to act soon.” The yuki-onna pointedly didn’t look at Zyr, so he returned the favor. “Perhaps within a few days. I overheard Veroni assure one of her friends that there would be a permanent solution to the human problem before she took House vows. It’s in four days.”
That then, would be the yuki-onna’s news. Well worth calling an immediate meeting, even Zyr had to admit.
“That would support the assumption that they’re spearheading this attempt,” said the tsuchigumo, with a sigh. “I miss when we were merely attempting to take over the world.”
“Daddy Longshanks got’a point,” the redcap put in. “Much as I wanna gnaw a couple arteries outta the Monarchs lickity split, they’ve been around a few millennia.”
“Immediate problems require immediate solutions,” agreed the manticore, in their haunting whisper. “Bloody ones.”
“This is all theory. The Monarchs are quite real.” The siren’s melodious voice was crisp with irritation. “The Heirs may enjoy certain status, and I agree they must be dealt with. But they aren’t our most pressing targets. This feels like a distraction.”
Beside her, the ghillie dhu shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“What if… I mean…” His slim, gold dusted fingers tangled on the table. “Well, if we could kill the Monarchs first, then, it would… Dealing with what the, umm, heirs are planning, it would be simple. I mean– I think?”
“Simple.” The manticore’s smirk landed on Robin, and their tail tapped the table. “Got us simple, yet?”
“Like Zyr said, we’re working on it.” Robin turned his fierce, intelligent gaze on Metara.
“Maybe it is a distraction. If it is, it’s a short one.
If we’re wrong, what’s four days? They’re not going to be any less invulnerable.
And if we’re right, we’ll avoid nearly everyone at this table being condemned to guaranteed death as Faerie eats itself. ”
“Probable death,” the siren corrected.
“Never been one for games of chance,” murmured the manticore. “Like a sure thing. What’s the move then? Teach a couple seelie why it is they’re so afraid of us? Ask for a bit more time and a lot more pay, usually.”
“More than ‘everything that exists?’” Zyr asked.
The manticore shrugged, short and tight before glancing at their bond. “Said usually.”
“Always did fancy being a teacher,” the redcap mused, in their sweet, lilting voice. “They’re so fuckin’ arrogant to chitter chat about it, think they’re so secret-like they drop hints with others around, means no eyes or ears’ll be out for us.”
“Always chaotic when the head of a House dies.” Those considering words came from the barghest. “Shit time for security. Easy to slip in.”
A look exchanged, between the two sets of swords for hire.
And that, apparently, was all it took to settle on a second assassination.
Zyr eased his grip on Robin’s calf, more reassured than he’d expected.
Even if they didn’t pose a threat to the veil, Kesk and Veroni’s death would shield Zyr, and his collection, from their hands.
“Guess sneaking’s better than knocking loud on their front door, all, ‘hey, open the fuck up, you crown-of-antlers wearing prick and wannabe valkyrie, we need to talk.’”
“What if we did go loud?” the Hollow asked.
He appeared truly miserable, clinging to his bond’s shoulders like that would protect him from the destruction of the veil.
“Not talking to those assholes. Just, this cloak-and-dagger bullshit made sense for trying to deal with them. But now we’re talking about a threat to everyone.
Seelie. Unseelie. Gates. Figure most of them don’t want to die. ”
“Even the most reputable among us wouldn’t be believed.
” The sluagh leaned into that hold, a rasping hiss to the edges of his words.
“Changelings. Unseelie. Humans. They would say we’re seeing things, reading too much into it.
The few who might listen are disreputable in their own way. I wish it were otherwise, mo chuisle.”
“Call it a test run,” the tsuchigumo put in, his pleased grin giving Zyr the oddest sense of déjà vu.
“If we intend to take down the Monarchs, doing away with a pair of newly risen House heads should be no great lift. If the threat they pose is real, it’s dealt with. If not, well, practice makes perfect.”
That should have settled it. It didn’t. Arguments.
Questions. Digressions about Gates. Death magic.
Who had the best in to House Linden. Zyr wished to be away from all of it.
The nearness of so many people grated, though Robin’s presence eased that slow building irritation at being away from all that he was.
Finally, when the conversation had wound itself into circles and knots, the siren stood, and everyone went quiet. It was her House, after all.
“That’s enough,” she said. “We’ll meet again as soon as this distraction has been resolved. Permanently. Taibe will bring word, should she find something new about the situation. Aultyr, Harke, Teddai, Abrhail–”
“Bring dinner?” the manticore suggested. “Something fresh?”
“If you’d be so kind.”