33. The White Bear
B riar was on Aisling almost before she managed to pull Kael’s door closed behind her. He lunged forward and planted his front paws squarely on her chest, toppling her back several steps until she could balance with his weight. Rodney scowled up at her from where he was seated on the cold ground on the opposite side of the corridor.
“Really, Aisling?” he groused. “You were in there for ages.”
Aisling dropped Briar’s paws and crossed over to Rodney, kicking one of his feet with hers lightly. “You didn’t have to wait out here the whole time.”
He scoffed. “You’re lucky that’s all I did; I should have come in with you.”
“I was fine,” Aisling insisted. She held out a hand to Rodney and when he took it, she hauled him to his feet.
“What took you so long, anyhow?” Rodney rubbed his backside and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the stiffness there. He began walking up the passageway in the direction they’d entered from the night before. Briar padded alongside Aisling, occasionally working his head under her hand to be scratched.
“I fell asleep.” Her lips tingled and her cheeks felt hot and flushed. She was glad that Rodney seemed more focused on finding his way than on her lie.
“Not with him? ” he pressed. She didn’t like his tone or the way he deliberately avoided saying Kael’s name. Even addressing him by his formal title would have sounded kinder.
“No, not with Kael. ” Aisling stressed his name to make her point. “But even if I had, it wouldn’t be any of your business at all.”
Not far beyond the entrance to Kael’s suite of rooms, Rodney showed Aisling into the adjoining chambers that had been prepared for them. He’d taken the liberty of selecting the deeper of the two for Aisling, so that she’d have to cross through both their shared bathroom and his room to exit back into the hall. She had no doubt he’d done so on purpose.
Her bag was on the bed, open. Rodney had pulled Briar’s food out, but he’d left the bowl untouched. Now that he was back at Aisling’s side, he ate like he hadn’t in days.
“As your best friend, I have every right to worry. So when you put yourself at risk, it absolutely is my business.” Rodney leaned against the carved doorway and watched Aisling dig in her bag for a fresh set of clothes.
“I wasn’t at risk. I thought he’d send me away,” Aisling said, sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed, “but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.”
“Well,” he started, shifting uncomfortably and rubbing his neck. He was blushing now, and making a concerted effort to look anywhere else in the room but at Aisling. “If you ever want to talk about any of… that …I can listen. I doubt I can offer any great advice, but—”
Wrinkling her nose, Aisling cut him off quickly. “Gross, no. Thanks, but no thanks.”
Rodney blew out a heavy sigh. “Thank fuck. I really didn’t want to hear about it.”
Aisling rolled her eyes and shooed Rodney back into his side of their suite so that she could bathe and change. Her fingers still trembled as she worked the soap over her body, the emotions that had been building in her chest since her return wearing aggressively on her nerves. And that kiss—that kiss had told her everything she needed to know. He’d missed her. Once, she wouldn’t have thought him capable of such a feeling. But Kael was not the monster that everyone made him out to be. That he made himself out to be.
Rodney was sprawled on his bed when she emerged, and she joined him. He nodded toward the table in the corner, now laden with fruit and bread. “A hob dropped that off a minute ago. Eat something.”
Aisling, already comfortable amidst the mountain of pillows stacked behind her, let her head fall back against the headboard. “I will in a while.”
With an irritable groan, Rodney rolled off of the bed and went to retrieve the tray himself. He set it between them, then tore a roll in two and handed half to Aisling.
“Eat,” he ordered. “Now. You’ve not had any food since we got back to your apartment.”
Aisling made a show of taking a bite of bread. Once she had, she realized just how hungry she really was. She filled a plate with fruit then settled back again. Rodney nodded his approval.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said to him. She hadn’t voiced the sentiment during their visit to the Seelie Court, but she wished that she had. She thought that she should say so much more often. She was lucky to have a friend like Rodney.
He nudged her shoulder with his own. “No place else I’d rather be, Ash.”
“Well, I’m not sure that’s true, but I’m grateful either way.” Aisling bit into a piece of fruit that resembled a peach but tasted closer to an over-sweet watermelon. She devoured it and would have licked the juice that ran down between her fingers had she been alone. Its pit was small; she rolled it over and over her tongue, savoring the last bits of flavor it carried.
“So what now?” Rodney asked.
“I think I need to tell Kael about Door Number Three.” She dropped the pit onto her plate and reached hungrily for the only other peach-like stone fruit on the tray before Rodney could take it for himself.
He sat bolt upright then, sending several grapes tumbling to the floor. “Like hell you do.”
Aisling winced; she’d expected this reaction. “He needs to know. And we need someone’s help; all we have is that picture. We don’t even know if they exist.”
“Exactly, Ash. We know nothing about them. Why tell him something that isn’t a sure thing?” Rodney pressed.
“Because maybe he knows more. There are books here, too.” Old ones—not those in the library, but the ones she’d seen organized so carefully on the shelves that lined Kael’s study. With his love of history, surely he would have at least heard of the Silver Saints.
“Listen.” Rodney shifted on the bed to face Aisling and waited for her to turn towards him to speak again. “I get that you have some sort of something going on with him, but that doesn’t mean you can just trust him with this.”
“I think I can,” she argued. She hoped she could, at least.
“What makes you think he will agree that it’s even a viable option? This isn’t a favorable solution for him, either. It may not be the destruction of his court promised by the prophecy, but it would still see him removed from power.”
Aisling raked her fingers back through her damp hair, frustrated. “I don’t know, Rodney. Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn’t. But I have to tell him. I have to at least try.”
“Why?” he demanded .
She chewed the inside of her cheek, hurt blooming in the spaces between her ribs. Kael wasn’t the only one with regrets; she had her own to grapple with, too. She wished bitterly that she’d never let herself be talked into this game of manipulation in the first place. Had she known Kael—had she known what he would mean to her—she would have done things differently. She would never have used him as she had.
“Because I can’t lie to him again,” Aisling said quietly.
“Ash—” Rodney started, but she cut him off.
“No, Rodney. No more secrets. We’re doing this my way now.”
He huffed, slouching back against the pillows. “Your way isn’t strategic.”
“Strategy hasn’t gotten us anywhere. We’re still no closer than we were when I came to you that very first morning after I met the Shadowwood Mother.” Aisling bit into the fruit, sucking the sweet nectar that dripped from its flesh.
“It’s gotten us to the Silver Saints,” he argued.
“ Research, ” she corrected, “has gotten us to a legend of an ancient Fae court that may or may not be able to be called on as a neutral ruling party.” It was dismal, really, when she laid it out that way. By the withdrawn silence that Rodney fell into, she knew he was feeling the same sense of frustration that now weighed on her shoulders.
When Kael sent for her, Aisling and Rodney were dozing on the bed, Briar stretched out at their feet. It was Methild who delivered the note for Aisling, and she could have sworn she saw kindness warming the old hob’s eyes when she handed over the small piece of paper before scurrying off down the corridor.
Rodney rose from the bed, stretching, as Aisling read the note. It wasn’t a long message, nor did it say anything particularly fond, but seeing her name in Kael’s handwriting brought a smile to her face all the same. His crude map, too. She would fold it up and keep it hidden away with the other. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw it out.
“I’m coming too.” Rodney was pulling on his shoes. Briar noticed, and immediately attached himself to Aisling’s hip.
“No, you’re not.” She slipped her own on, too, and tugged on her jacket.
“Well what am I supposed to do then?” Rodney crossed his arms, dejected, looking awfully similar to a pouting child.
Aisling rolled her eyes and gestured at the open door. “Go do your thing,” she suggested.
Rodney raised an eyebrow. “Which is what, exactly?”
“I don’t know, Rodney, go mingle. Make connections. I’d rather Lyre not be our only ally down here. Find us some better friends.” Aisling ignored Rodney’s heavy sighs and instead turned her attention to Briar, sitting now at her feet. His tail swept back and forth across the floor in a wide arc. Then, she pulled his leash from where it was draped over the back of a chair and clipped it to his collar. It was about time Kael met the White Bear.
On her last visit to the Undercastle, once she’d been allowed to wander the halls on her own, Aisling had felt nearly invisible. The flurry of activity bustled around her, uncaring of her presence there. But now, with Briar lumbering by her side, the faeries gave her a wide berth—the hobs, most of all. Briar was unbothered, having been largely desensitized after spending days being doted on by the Seelie Fae. It was unlikely that he’d find a faerie so interested in braiding his fur here, though.
As if he’d been already gripping the handle, poised and waiting for her to arrive, Kael pulled open the door before Aisling’s second knock. He stiffened when he saw Briar, who had fallen into a defensive posture as soon as he’d scented the king.
“I was unaware that you brought your beast,” Kael acknowledged curtly, falling back a step. Aisling tightened her grip on Briar’s leash and tugged him into the study behind her. His hackles were raised, and his teeth bared, but he hadn’t yet begun to growl.
“This is Briar,” she said. When Kael only eyed him apprehensively, she added, “He’s big, but he’s harmless. Honest.”
“Charming.” Kael kept his distance.
Aisling directed Briar to sit, then reached out to Kael. “Come here, let him smell you and he’ll settle down.”
“I would rather not.” Though he maintained a polite, neutral expression, his tone was clipped and his gaze moved sharply over Briar’s form, one predator studying another.
“I’d never have guessed that the Unseelie King would be afraid of a dog,” Aisling teased, unable to suppress a laugh.
“I am not afraid of anything,” Kael shot back. “Least of all the White Bear. ”
“Then come over here,” she insisted, her hand still outstretched to him. “Please. It’s important to me.”
Not attempting to hide his disdain any longer, Kael crossed the study with hesitant steps. Once he was within reach, Aisling caught his hand and held it still in front of Briar. She could feel Kael’s racing pulse beneath her fingers; the muscles in his arm were taught and ready to move to the dagger at his hip at the slightest provocation.
When Briar refused to approach, she knelt down, pulling a reluctant Kael with her. He bent his knees into a crouch. Finally, slowly, Briar sniffed the very tips of Kael’s fingers. It was a tense accord, but enough to satisfy her for the time being. The pair sprang apart the moment she let them go. Kael retreated behind his desk.
“Dramatic,” she said. “The both of you.”
“A warning might have been nice.” Still tense, Kael crossed his arms and leaned against the back of his chair. Aisling took a moment to look around. The only other time she’d visited Kael’s study had ended in disaster. Her gaze landed on the shelf he’d pinned her to. Once more his face flashed in her mind, the wrath in his eyes that barely concealed the hurt. The violence his hand on her throat had promised before he let her go. Aisling shivered and pressed herself to Briar.
Kael noticed where she was looking, realizing what image had risen to the forefront of her memory. Maybe getting swept away in that same bitter memory himself.
“Shall we take a walk?” he offered. “There are new flowers in the night garden since you last visited.”
Gratefully, Aisling nodded. “Fresh air sounds great. ”
Even now, as winter had befallen the Unseelie Court, the night garden was lusher than ever. The trees hung heavy, so laden with snow and blooms and icicles that their branches brushed the top of Aisling’s head where the path narrowed. She kept Briar tight against her outside leg on a short leash to keep him from sniffing the poisonous flowers, but he was too focused on watching Kael to stray.
“When you left here,” Kael began, “where did you go?” When Aisling didn’t answer right away, he took her hand and placed it on his arm, tucking it in against his chest.
The simple gesture was comforting enough for her to make her admission. “I went to the Seelie Court.”
Kael only nodded. “I thought you likely would.”
Aisling recounted her visit in brief, glossing over Laure’s intentions of using her as a weapon against Kael and instead focusing on the things she’d noticed about the court. Its sinister underpinnings that still lingered with her.
“I don’t want to see them rule. They’re no better than…” She trailed off without saying what she intended.
“Us?” Kael filled in the blank. “I might have told you that, had you asked.”
Aisling shrugged. “I wouldn’t have believed you if I hadn’t seen it for myself. And even once I was there, I didn’t realize it at first.” She drew in a breath then, steeling herself for the next revelation. “But I think there could be a third option.”
“I’m listening.”
Aisling reluctantly withdrew her hand from Kael’s arm to fish in her jacket pocket for the folded bit of paper she’d stowed there alongside his note. She unfolded it carefully and handed it to him to examine. The bright moon overhead and the soft, blue glow of the angel’s trumpet blooms illuminated the printed page.
“Do you recognize this?” she asked.
“I do; I have the original artwork,” Kael mused, then ran his thumb over the ragged edge where Rodney had torn the page from the book. “Where did you come by this print?”
“The Seelie archives,” Aisling admitted, somewhat sheepishly. “It shows the first three courts, right? Yours, the Seelie Court, and the Silver Saints?”
Kael stopped walking to look down at her, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Is that what you call them?”
“It was the closest translation Rodney could come up with.”
“The Silver Saints,” he repeated, then said their true name in the Fae tongue. “They came even before the division of our courts and disappeared not long after. They were Tuatha Dé Danann—Light Bringers, the first Fae race. Neither their race nor their magic, has been seen in Wyldraíocht for a very, very long time.”
“They were really real?” Aisling wondered. “The book we found made them sound like legend.”
“Many claim them to be. The truth about your Silver Saints is difficult to come by.” Kael looked again at the page in his hand then passed it back to Aisling. She returned it to her pocket.
“But you know about them?” she asked .
Kael nodded. “There is a book in my collection, one of very few in existence that tells of their involvement in the creation of the courts.”
“What if they could be found again? What if they could fix things?” Aisling was aware of how farfetched her words sounded, but she had clung to the hope of this solution so desperately since they’d found the page in the archives that she didn’t care.
“You know as well as I that they play no role in this prophecy.” There was a wistfulness in Kael’s voice that told Aisling maybe he longed to feel that same hope, too.
“The prophecy isn’t clear; who’s to say it isn’t for us to determine what it means?” she argued.
“That is not how prophecies work.”
“Says who?” she challenged again. “You don’t even know who wrote it, much less the intention behind their words. It’s a prophecy, not an instruction manual.” She repeated the words the Shadowwood Mother had said to her in the thicket that night—the very words that had so frustrated her now offered the possibility of a different path.
Kael raised an eyebrow. “You’re beginning to sound like one of us.”
Aisling smiled back, briefly. “I’ll consider that a compliment.”
Taking her hand again, Kael pulled Aisling to resume their slow, meandering walk through the garden.
“I notice but one flaw in your plan,” he said. “And it is not insignificant.”
Aisling held her breath. “What is it? ”
“You would still see my court lose its autonomy.”
“Not necessarily,” she insisted quickly. “I envision them as more of a neutral third party. Like an impartial body that could oversee a transition to peace. Surely you wouldn’t see this war continue forever just to gain control over dominions you care nothing about?”
“You seem to forget I am a creature born for war.” Kael cast her a sidelong glance as his lips pressed into a dry smirk.
“ Raised for war, maybe. But born for it?” Aisling shook her head solemnly, tightening her grip on his arm. “There’s much more to you than that.”
Without answering one way or another, or acknowledging even the possibility of her plan, Kael directed their path back to the Undercastle. “It is cold out tonight,” he offered by way of explanation. “You need to get warm.”
Aisling didn’t press further, but she hadn’t given up just yet. Though he hadn’t agreed to her idea, he hadn’t said no, either.