Epilogue
Hyacinth
“They’re here, sir.” The hesitant, deferential voice cut through Hyacinth’s brooding.
The speaker was a nereid–his mother had been fond of water spirits–and Hyacinth couldn’t remember her name. Winter’s icy tits, what was it? Spider would remember. Spider wasn’t here.
Despite the urge to grit his teeth or outright growl, Hyacinth smiled at the woman, even as what remained of his inner circle murmured among themselves, watching him. They all knew how little he liked that word. Sir.
“It’s Hyacinth,” he said, casual and easy. What was her name? Something like precious. “You can bring them here.”
If Kesk had somehow managed to suborn Zyr and Robin in the scant week since his and Veroni’s assent, Hyacinth was screwed. Winter, he was screwed regardless.
Not yet.
With a quick glance, Hyacinth took in the cluttered den. Sellain and Gale were playing cards. Tsuri had a guitar in their lap, and Nae leaned against them, working on a small bit of spellcraft. Idrix and Edera were bickering like usual, though Idrix kept one eye on the door.
Just in case.
Half a dozen people he could trust and a House of thousands to manage. Spider off guarding Lysander, and Leo sent away with a guard of his own. Hyacinth couldn’t let himself think about it. Not now.
The door opened again, and this time the nereid was accompanied by Zyr and his sharp little boyfriend, Robin.
“Appreciated…” Not Precious. Preicia. That was it. “Preicia. I’ll save you the boredom of staying. Unless you’re into ancient texts?”
“No, sir. Hyacinth.”
“Then, I’m sure the koi pond could use some attention. We’ll be alright. I’ll make sure they don’t get lost.”
He waited until the door clicked shut, then glanced to Idrix, getting the nod that she’d cast a privacy ward. She wasn’t as good with them as Spider, but she was better than most realized. Satyrs weren’t known for ward work.
“Zyr. Robin. Glad you could make it. Make yourself comfortable.”
“I can be comfortable at home,” Zyr stated, with his usual lack of tact. “And safer. What’s this about, Hyacinth?”
“Then make yourself uncomfortable. Sit. I’m not going to crane my neck while talking business.”
Tellingly, Zyr shot Robin a questioning look before inclining his head toward one of the overstuffed couches. It was Robin who sat first, Zyr following a moment after.
“You still might,” Robin said. “I draw a line at sprawling in most public spaces.”
“We’ve all got our hangups,” Hyacinth replied, remaining precisely as he’d been, one leg over the side of his chair, the other tucked beneath him. “Drinks?”
This time, it was Robin who glanced to Zyr. But if Zyr’s glance had been questioning, Robin’s sharp-eyed look was assessing. Finally, he said. “We’re alright.”
Strange pair. There was none of the drama Kesk had ranted about with such disgust. Zyr didn’t go to his knees for the man. But there was something there, in those speaking glances. Not control. Not in the way Kesk meant it. Not a pet looking to a master.
A ship looking to a lighthouse. Good. Hyacinth liked Zyr, and with all the shit going down, he’d hate to see the man break apart on the rocks.
“Fine. But I’m drinking.” He picked up his glass from the side table and sipped appreciatively, as much for the look as the burn, before speaking.
“I’ve been thinking on your problem, Robin.
You want free passage across the veil and to Banyan.
I’m a bit short on Gates at the moment, so it’ll need to be a wisp. And a guard, for both our safety.”
“I can make do with just a guard with passage to Banyan. My niece’s rule on veil crossing is ‘as long as it isn’t for stupid reasons.’”
“Even better. A guard when you leave my House or cross the veil. A wisp when it’s for stupid reasons.” Hyacinth shrugged, liquid and easy. “Anything else?”
Zyr growled, low. Hyacinth pretended not to hear. “What’s the price?”
“Don’t rush ahead, Zyr. We can’t set a price until we know what he’s buying.”
Robin laid a light hand on Zyr’s knee without looking away. “Are you the sort to shoot the messenger?”
“Not when the messenger is a friend of Declan’s. Or the bond of a member of my House.”
“Then, no. Nothing else.”
Interesting.
Hyacinth waited a beat, to give Zyr a chance to grumble again, but he seemed to have settled at Robin’s touch. Only the flicking tip of his tail, where it was wrapped around Robin’s ankle indicated his discomfort. Time to set him at ease.
“Smart,” he said. “And that’s what I need. Someone smart. Orrim’s away on an errand. Like sending away my right fucking hand.” Hyacinth let the barest hint of irritation leak into his tone. “Until he gets back, I need someone to help me keep shit together. Someone with a spine, who I can trust.”
He’d never be able to trust anyone the way he could Spider, who’d lived a century as Orrim to stay at Hyacinth’s side. But shit the way it was, they all had to adapt. Lysander needed Spider now. Hyacinth would cope.
Robin blinked, thumb tapping a steady tattoo against Zyr’s knee. He opened his mouth to speak, only to pause, frowning, thumb going still.
“I can’t promise full time. There’s my job in the human realm,” he said. “I need medication every day. They cover my insurance. Faerie can do a lot, but I’m not putting my brain on the line like that.”
“I need full time,” Hyacinth countered. “But I can cover your insurance. Top of the line. I’ll even match your 401k.”
“That still stand when Orrim gets back?”
“If we all live that long. Might adjust your duties a bit, but I’m running a lot more than my crew, these days. Got the whole damned House to keep above water.”
“Nothing says fun like a surprise restructuring,” Robin said with a quick sidelong glance at Zyr. “Okay. I found some House relevant information I need to give you anyway. May as well make it the first act of an organized executive assistant on the job. Throw in matching salary and we have a deal.”
Zyr rumbled, not quite a growl this time. “Some of your people might take exception to answering to a human. Violent exception.”
Truer fucking words. Spend decades carefully cultivating a collection of trustworthy, like-minded associates, just to have his mother’s whole fucked-up House dropped in his lap.
“These,” he tilted his head toward Sellain, “are my people. They answer to who I tell them to.”
“Might rather answer to the dragon, though,” said Gale, with a friendly leer.
“Answer’s the same as before, Gale,” Robin said. “He’s mine.”
“You work that out in your own time,” Hyacinth replied, smirking at Zyr’s hiss and slight lean toward Robin. “The rest of the House, yeah, there might be some disrespect. You want to shadow him, that’s fine. Otherwise, I said he’d have a guard.”
“An excellent one.”
“I’ve got a minokowa for it,” Hyacinth replied. That should soothe the beithir a bit. Show Zyr that he was thinking about the complexities. A minokowa would be equally effective in both realms. “Reliable. His twin works for me too.”
“They hear iron differently,” the beithir explained to Robin. “Like a song.”
“Huh. I’ll want to meet them. Make sure we can work together.”
“Of course.” Hyacinth allowed the pair a moment for shared glances before continuing. “People will give you trouble. I’ll need to hear about it. Plan on cleaning house. I can match your salary. Double it at six months. Call it a survivor’s bonus.”
“Then we have a deal. I’ll give them my notice tomorrow.
” Robin sat forward, his hand still on Zyr’s knee.
“You didn’t ask for me to keep my mouth shut or not talk to Banyan about things here.
But to be clear: if you want my family to know something, you’ll need to tell me specifically.
Far as I’m concerned, Banyan stays at Banyan. Linden at Linden.”
“Noted.” It was a nice thought, even if Hyacinth couldn’t trust it. “Now, tell me about this ‘House relevant information.’ Then you can take Zyr home before he eats one of your new employees.”
“Or his new boss,” Zyr growled, but there was a twitch to his lips that Hyacinth had learned to recognize.
“Don’t flirt. I’m told you’re taken.”
“Extremely taken,” Robin agreed. “And I’d prefer to tell you alone.”
Hyacinth waited a beat, considering, then tipped his chin toward the door. Grumbling, but only for show, his people made their way out. Zyr stayed exactly where he was. Bonds had that privilege.
“You were saying?”
Robin stood, tugging a thick envelope from his back pocket. Ankle freed from Zyr’s tail, he stepped across to Hyacinth, envelope outstretched.
“Kesk and Veroni were judges at my brother’s trial. The one about his bond with Everil. Some of the shit Kesk said was about you. Bo told me about it over the years.” Robin tilted his chin at the envelope. “I kept notes. These are photocopies.”
“I see.”
Hyacinth took the envelope, opening it without real curiosity. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Kesk wanted him dead. The assassin yesterday hadn’t been a housewarming gift.
Scanning Robin’s neat notes, he found the relevant bit almost immediately. Words like killed tended to get his attention. Kesk, owning up to having Hyacinth’s dad murdered. Bragging about it.
His jaw set hard and his hands threatened to tighten into fists. Anger like a punch to the chest, like a bouquet of knives shoved down his throat. Points to Kesk for killing both Hyacinth’s parents. If he got Leo and Lysander, he’d have the whole damned set.
Don’t let it fucking show. Hyacinth didn’t care about anyone or anything except maybe ‘Orrim.’ Everyone knew that. He hadn’t had a soft spot for his human father. Hadn’t cried when he found him.
“Poor Kesk,” he said at last. “Always did have mommy issues. Got jealous anytime she brought a new sparkly home.”
“I’d heard about you from Declan. But not that you were Kesk’s brother, or that you had a human father.” Robin watched him, Zyr’s tail tangling in his fingers. “Otherwise, I’d have put it together faster. Let Declan know. I’m betting he would have told you.”
“I don’t shoot people for not being messengers, either.”
“Either way. I figured you had a right to know.”
“Right now, the more I know the better.” Envelope and notes caught fire, burned down to Hyacinth’s fingers and disappeared into ash. “Well spotted. Tell my people not to come back in on your way out. Two days, and I’ll have the paperwork.”
Zyr, thank Summer, knew Hyacinth well enough to hear the dismissal. He got to his feet, eyes bright with lightning and that clever mind.
“There’s a lot of people, I believe, who’ve reasons to be sharpening their knives,” the beithir rumbled. “Personally, I think first cut is yours by rights.”
First and second and on and on until Kesk had no skin left to hold the blood in. Still, Hyacinth smiled.
He was good at smiling.
If you enjoyed the glimpses of Judah, and would like to know more about changelings, pick up A Changeling's Guide to Love & Prophecy. Or read on for a sneak peak!