Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Diarmuid mac Lir, high king of the fae, son of the sea god and Queen Aíne the Wise, sat on a throne layered in gold and gemstones. “Carys Morgan, I extend my welcome to Temris, seat of the Tuatha Dé Danann and stronghold of the children of Danu.”
They were in a throne room filled with light. Whatever fae magic powered this castle, it looked like midday sun shining through milky alabaster windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
“You arrive here at my request,” Dru continued, “and are under my protection for as long as you reside in this place.”
In a nod to his sea-god father, Dru wore a crown of twisted blood-red coral set with pearls and threaded with silver.
The blue sigils on his face were the same ones that Carys had seen when she first crossed into the Shadowlands, when she was a wandering mythology professor and Dru was a strange bartender at the Four Crowns Pub.
“King Diarmuid,” Carys said, “we have accepted your invitation.” She couldn’t say thank you, but she was aching to be polite. “Your city… is very beautiful.”
“Yes, and your dragon is very loud.” Dru smirked. “Cadell.” He offered a short nod. “Good to see you.”
“Fae.” Cadell acknowledged Dru and nothing else. He stood behind Carys and Naida like a stoic pillar, guarding their backs.
Perfect, Carys said in her mind. I want to know what he’s up to. We’re not friends here.
I never considered this fae a friend.
Okay, well… good.
Lachlan, Duncan, Laura, and Godrik were all standing along the side of the throne room with the courtiers of Temris. Most of the curious onlookers were fae, but there was a good mix of unicorns in the mix and a fair number of humans wearing green sashes. Carys guessed they were diplomats from éire.
There were no dragons other than Cadell. And no wolves save for Godrik.
“And Naida.” Dru’s voice softened. “It has been too long since a healer of your skill has visited my court.” He looked at the silent and watchful fae. “All of you, bow to the healer Naida of Gwenlais, for she saved the life of your king.”
Oh shit.
After a second of hesitation that had the fae king leaning forward on his throne, the entirety of the high fae court bent and took a knee, bowing their heads toward Naida as she stood before Dru’s throne.
This is appropriate. Cadell was quick to speak to her mind. He is making a statement. This makes me like him slightly better.
Naida is going to hate the attention.
This is only partially about her.
“Our gratitude, Naida of Gwenlais, for your service to the throne,” Dru said in an eerie voice. “The court of Temris honors you.”
Naida spoke cautiously. Her eyes were narrowed on Dru. “I am pleased to see the king has healed so well. No doubt your decisive victory over your brother has added to your health.”
She is more skilled in politics than she realizes, Cadell said.
She’s not wrong though.
Dru had never looked more powerful. Though he’d always held a mysterious aura, even in the Brightlands, now the magic fairly oozed from his pores. While Carys could feel power among the watching court, it was dwarfed by the wild strength of the sea god’s son.
Cian’s magic had been refined and controlled. Dru’s felt like he was barely keeping his in check. Even the stones beneath her feet held a decided hum.
Fae magic was elemental in nature, which was why they detested most metal and hated forged iron in particular. Something about it blocked their power. The castle around them was built of stone and wood. Vines grew around the pillars that held up the gallery and crawled across the vaulted ceiling.
“Rise and leave us, courtiers of Temris. I have dealings with this dragon lord and this healer.” Dru waved a hand. “I do not need your counsel today.”
An older fae with long silver hair stepped forward. “My lord, the Kingsguard—”
“Is not needed.” Dru was quick to answer. “Not even when a dragon has come to call.” He looked at Carys and smirked. “I know this wyrm of old, Rowan Dún Nath.”
The old fae bowed. “My king.” He backed out of the gallery, following the other whispering fae courtiers and humans.
Carys looked at Duncan, who shook his head.
Not leaving. The message was clear.
“The rest of your party may stay if they like.” Dru looked to his right, where the unicorn with silver hair was standing at attention. “Setare, tell the kitchens to ready a meal for my guests.”
Duncan huffed. “We can’t eat it, Dru.”
“I think what my Brightkin means,” Lachlan said, “is that your guests are representatives of foreign courts and must be cautious in an unfamiliar place, King Diarmuid.”
The corner of the king’s mouth turned up. “Drinks then. Some mead.”
Cadell growled. “My nêrys will eat no food and drink no mead from the fae king’s table.”
Dru wasn’t pleased. “You reject my hospitality, wyrm?”
“Decidedly yes.”
Laura spoke up. “Okay, but hear me out…”
Cadell angled his head toward Laura but kept his eyes on Dru.
“People have to eat here, right?” Laura continued. “I mean, it’s a city. You have to feed people.” She looked at Lachlan. “How does that work? Is there some diplomatic protocol we don’t know about? How do you eat and drink here without falling under a spell?”
“Setare, bring food for my table.” Dru raised his voice. “And mead.”
“Yes, my lord.” The unicorn bowed and backed out of the room.
Dru heaved a sigh, then stood, took off his blood-red crown, and set it on the throne behind him before he walked down the steps.
“The chefs are unicorns. The servers are unicorns. And I pay a mountain of gold and healing herbs to have them here.” He walked up to Cadell and stared.
“I don’t trust the fae in this court either—not a single one of them—but I trust the unicorns.
” Dru looked at Naida directly. “So eat and drink. I offer it freely. You are under no obligation to me or any other in this city.”
Lachlan stepped forward and spread his hands. “And that’s all we needed.” He smiled. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”
Carys stuck her hand in her pocket and grabbed a handful of trail mix before she looked at Cadell. “You’re still not going to let me eat anything, are you?”
“Absolutely not.”
“The Morrígan is testing the gates, but we will keep them secure.” Dru picked up a gold goblet and drank. “She’s powerful, but so am I, and every fae in Briton has a vested interest in keeping our gates from breaking.”
They were sitting in a small dining chamber, and unicorns with bright silver sigils on their foreheads came and went silently, serving them giant platters of fruit and bread. Steaming vegetable soups simmered in tureens, and roasted platters of vegetables wafted delicious aromas into the air.
“So the high fae have enough self-interest to keep the Morrígan at bay?” Duncan asked.
“Obviously, we don’t want human technology leaking into the Shadowlands and damaging our refuge.” Dru continued talking with Duncan. “How are things on the other side?”
“Things aren’t chaos,” Duncan said. “Not yet. A little strange, but steady so far. The biggest story in England is that massive barrow she’s raised in Salisbury.”
Dru set down his goblet. His eyes were fixed on Naida even as he spoke to the others. “Do the humans suspect anything supernatural?”
“Not yet,” Godrik said. “A few of the superstitious are making noise, but they’ve trained themselves thoroughly to not believe in magic.” The wolf looked around the chamber with obvious discomfort. “Did Cian eat here?”
“No,” Dru said. “I destroyed most of the parts of the castle that Cian lived or ate in. This was my mother’s chamber. I will rebuild the rest within a year.”
Dru’s brother Cian had hunted the wolves of Ireland to extinction. It was a genocide that still scarred Anglian and éiran relations.
Cadell spoke silently. It is likely that Godrik is the first wolf in éire in hundreds of years.
That’s horrible.
That is Temris.
Laura looked up from her bowl of soup. “You can rebuild a castle in a year?”
“Only with magic.” Dru spread his hand on the stone table. “When you build of the earth and not with bones of trees, the earth does not fight you.” He was still staring at Naida. “You will not eat of my table, Naida Brightwater?”
Every eye turned to Naida, whose cheeks were slightly red.
“I am not hungry.” Naida glanced at Laura, who was sitting on her right. “But please enjoy the food. If the unicorns have prepared it, I’m sure it is safe and wonderful.”
“But you will not eat of it, though I know you are hungry.” Dru’s voice was sharp. “Am I so hated by you now?”
“Watch your tone.” Godrik’s voice held the menace of his wolf. “We are not your subjects.”
Dru turned to Godrik and cocked his head. “Acknowledged, wolf.”
“I hate no one.” Naida picked at the tablecloth, keeping her voice soft. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“Daughter of the Valleys,” Dru whispered, “Singer of my song, will you not even look at me now?”
Naida finally looked up. “I can look at you, King Diarmuid.”
Dru was silent for a long moment. He seemed to drink in Naida’s attention like a parched man.
Carys reached for Duncan’s hand under the table. He squeezed her fingers and knit them with his own.
Dru finally spoke. “And what am I to your eyes, Naida of Gwenlais, Brightwater of the Valleys?”
The room went so silent Carys heard nothing but the crackle of blue flames in the fireplace.
“Son of Aíne ,” Naida said, “I… acknowledge your crown.” Without another word, she stood from the table, set her linen napkin on the table, and walked out of the room.
Dru watched Naida leave with hooded, hungry eyes, then narrowed them when Godrik stood and followed the small fae woman out of the room.
“Dru,” Carys said, “I don’t want a favor, but I was wondering if I could ask for some advice without forming an obligation.”
Dru looked away from the door where Naida had disappeared and shook his head as if waking from a dream. “About the Morrígan?”
“Yes.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Why do you think I brought you here?”