Briar Queen (31 page)

Leander nodded, his eyes silvery and rimmed with shadows. “I've been waiting . . . I saw Finn . . . she's in there now.”

Jack's black heart pulsed and he almost snarled. “Get us in, Cyrus.”

Leander turned and led them down a tunnel of briars that clung to their skin and hair. Jack, silent as the night itself, felt a predator thriving within him. They pushed through a decaying door into a courtyard where a tower rose at the back of the mansion over which a lavish glamour had fallen. The tower's stained-glass windows glowed with light, its walls covered with wickedly thorned briars and roses as pale and perfumed as a Fata queen's false skin.

“That's Lot's room”—Leander indicated—“at the top. It's the last place he'll expect anyone to attempt.”

“Grab a vine. We're going up.”

“Jack?”

The voice caused Moth and Leander to whirl around, but Jack turned slowly, ready to kill the girl in her white chauffeur's uniform.

The familiar face, despite the white hair and Fata eyes, made him pause. He took a step forward. “
Hest—
”

Moth slid past him, grabbed her, and kissed her on the mouth.

As Moth cascaded into light and shadow, Hester backed away from the insect that emerged and glided away. She looked at Jack. “You can't help me.”

“
Hester
.” Jack held out a hand. “Come with us.”

“Just . . . help
her
. I'll try to distract him.” She turned and ran.

Leander cursed. Jack gazed at the tower, rage coursing through him. “Let's climb.”

“Jack—”

“She won't give us away, and Moth is doing his part.”

The briars made them bleed, but Jack and Leander climbed quickly. Reaching a ledge, Jack hauled himself up. He broke the window with his elbow, unlatched it, and swung it open, then slid over the sill into an elegant chamber of black,
green, and gold. A fire burned in a hearth. The deceptive debris of books and masculine ornaments was scattered everywhere.

The strength left him as Sylph Dragonfly's illusion was stripped away from him. He collapsed to his knees, retching, and began to choke up wet, red petals. He heard Leander speaking frantically, but the buzzing in his ears kept him from understanding. His heart slammed to true life and he tasted blood in his mouth.
No. Not now
. He couldn't become mortal
now . . .

The horror of returning to being a Jack had been a price he'd been willing to pay, to save Finn. When he saw his shadow stretching across the floor, he began to shake.

“Well done, Leander.” The velvety voice hit Jack like a train. “You've earned your reward for bringing him to me. Go on.”

“Jack.” Leander moved past Jack, who was on all fours now and feeling every injury he'd recently received. “I'm sorry, Jack. He
knew
. He knew you were coming.”

Struggling not to fall, Jack raised his head and managed to rasp out, “You've killed all of us.”

As Leander fled, Jack focused on Seth Lot. The Wolf lounged against a bedpost as the room slowly faded into a dark, stone chamber, the bed becoming pillars strung with rusted chains and gruesome totems of bones and teeth. There were stains on the floor. The windows had metal grilles. “Can you hear me, Jack?”

A shudder racked Jack's body as he gasped out, “Where is Finn?”

The booted foot that slammed into his side sent him flat to the floor. He coughed, spat blood as Seth Lot circled him, the rings of the Fata kings and queens he'd murdered shining on his fingers. “Are you hurting, Jack?”

Through sheer force of will, Jack dragged himself into a crouch.

“It's what you wanted, wasn't it?” Seth Lot's foot shoved him down again. “To be a
real
boy. After all the trouble Reiko and I went through to make you invincible.”

Jack clenched his teeth and grabbed a chain on one of the pillars, pulling himself up, wincing as the bits of bone on the chain bit into his fingers. Seth Lot continued to circle. “Serafina is such a fine, brave girl. I think Reiko made a mistake, calling her a mayfly.
Underestimating
her.”

Jack whispered, “
I
caused Reiko's death, not—”

Seth Lot slammed his walking stick against Jack's chest. Jack cried out and clutched at the pillar to keep from falling. He retched. “Don't dissemble, my Jack.” Lot threw an arm around his shoulders, smiled, and, with false, threatening intimacy, said, “Did you know I once thought of you as one of the best of your kind? When Reiko botched the Teind for you one hundred years ago, I realized that was what made you dangerous. To her. And now you've slain her, you and that fine, brave girl.”

Jack could feel the grinding of a broken collarbone. He said in a low voice, “I think a Fata who murders mortals and other Fatas shouldn't toss around accusations.”

“Maybe I'll let you live long enough to watch me cut her open and stitch her full of flowers. What flower should it be? Something innocent but exotic.”

Jack used the last of his strength to twist free and kick at Lot's throat. The Wolf disdainfully struck him across the face with his walking stick and Jack fell, blood filling his broken nose. Exhaustion crept over him, worse than the pain.

“Rest now, my Jack.” Seth Lot crouched down and gently pushed the sweat-damp hair from Jack's eyes. “Tonight, you're going to dine with your beloved for the last time.”

As Jack struggled desperately against the mortality that he'd wanted for so long, the mortality that was now killing him, the Wolf rose and swaggered away.

Out of this wood do not desire to go

Thou shalt remain here whether thou wilt or no
.

I am a spirit of no common rate;

The summer still doth tend upon my state;

And I do love thee;

Therefore go with me
.

                
—
A M
IDSUMMER
N
IGHT'S
D
REAM
,
W
ILLIAM
S
HAKESPEARE

F
inn discovered that the door to the ivory bedroom was unlocked.

As she fled down a corridor, the tiny vials of elixir and
Tamasgi'po
hidden in her Doc Martens chafed against her ankles. She pushed through another door, into a walled courtyard where dwarfish apple trees clustered, their branches hung with rusting birdcages. Moving forward, she found that each cage contained a portrait or a photograph in a fancy frame. The pictures, torn and stained, were of young people from different eras. Lot's victims . . .

The path took her to a pair of glass-paned doors that shed light onto a hunched yew tree. The doors opened when she pushed at them and she entered a large chamber, its black floor reflecting lit lamps on pillars shaped like birch trees. The leaf-green walls and the ceiling—a mass of green marble vines—gave the chamber the appearance of an otherworldly forest. It was so quiet she could hear her own breathing.
Lily . . . where are you?

From the unlit places in the chamber figures emerged, their modern clothing
trimmed with fur. Jewels glowed at their throats, on their fingers. Their faces hidden by wolf masks of painted wood, they watched her make her way through the forest of pillars until she stopped before a door carved with brutal images of people fleeing wild animals. She drew in a breath and opened the door.

The Wolf king sat in a luxurious parlor, on a divan in front of a fireplace crackling with flames. Leander Cyrus was crouched at his feet, facing her.

“Leander.” Dismay crushed Finn's voice.

“Leander,” Lot said pleasantly. “Take Serafina to her sister.”

Leander rose, his face bleak. Without speaking, he walked past her. She followed, feeling as if the shadows of this place were dirtying her skin. He led her up a winding tower stair and spoke softly as they climbed. “She looks different, but she is still your sister. This place . . . it affects mortals.”

“
Infects
them, you mean.” She had to stop moving as everything around her began to spin. She bent her head, trying to keep that poisonous sleep from returning to trap her here, in the enemy's house.
No
. She fought it with her hands and teeth clenched.

“Finn.” Leander spoke with gentle insistence. “You need to keep moving.”

She nodded and, feeling as if her equilibrium had returned, continued following him up the stairs.

He halted before a pair of stained-glass doors ghosted with the images of lilies. It was dark, beyond. He turned to Finn. “Never forget she's your sister.”

“You're not coming with me?”

Bitterness dulled his voice. “She doesn't want to see me.”

He left her standing before the doors and she thought:
This house . . . all it is is doors . . .

She stepped into a chamber lit only by the glow of winter through the surrounding windows. On the walls between the windows were shadow boxes filled with pinned butterflies. Cabinets and tables were neatly cluttered with books—leather-bound tomes and paperbacks—and objects: a little wax mannequin in a bell jar, a skull of white marble with antlers that looked like red coral, bottles that held luminous feathers, fantastical insects, unusual stones. Several music boxes were displayed in another cabinet. Hanging on one wall were four gowns that looked as if they'd been sewn from fabrics stained with the purest hues of night, winter, moss, and blood.

She approached an arch curtained with glittering black beads. She could see someone standing beyond. Was that her sister, her sister whom she'd seen dance through a window, whom she'd cradled in broken glass and blood, who had wasted away in a hospital bed? Her sister, who was supposed to be dead?

“Lily?” Tears blurred the room. “Lily . . . it's me.”

The beaded curtain parted. A figure in a dark gown, shadowy hair spilling around her cold, white face, appeared. Her eyes were framed in black butterfly designs. She clutched a dagger made of glass.

“Lily,” Finn whispered.

Her sister's remote expression became ferocious. “You
thing
. You think you can fool me?”

She lunged, slashing out with the knife. Finn yelled. She fell over an ottoman, scrambled back as the girl who resembled her sister came after her, barefoot and lithe.

“
Lily!
” Finn pushed up and hit a wall, held out a hand. “Lily. If it's really you . . .
please . . .
just stop! It's me!”

The young woman drew back. She stared at the bracelet of silver charms glinting on Finn's wrist. The hand with the dagger fell to her side, and Lily slowly looked at Finn. Her voice torn, she whispered, “Finn?”

“
Lily
.” Finn flung her arms around the sister she'd worshipped and envied since childhood.
This
was her true sister, as tough and fiery as ever, her skin pale, as if she'd been kept in the dark for months.

Lily, holding Finn unbearably tight, said faintly, “
Why did you come?
”

“Why do you think?” Finn drew back, gripping Lily's hands. The tears began then, and she blinked them away, forced words through her closed throat. “I came to take you
home
. Moth found me.”

“Moth was supposed to keep you
safe
.” Lily led Finn to the other room, where they sat on a large bed draped with night-blue gauze. “Not bring you to . . .
this
.”

“Why did you go with the Wolf, Lil?”

Lily's lashes flickered down and she became almost sullen—it was a typical Lily emotion and, this time, it delighted Finn. “It wasn't like meeting Leander. I thought Leander was just an ordinary boy. It never occurred to me that I only saw him after sunset. He went to a different school, he said. He had a job on the weekends. Seth Lot was hunting in Muir Woods when he saw me. When I saw
him. One day, Leander told me . . . he told me what he really was, and, when he found out I'd spoken with the Wolf, what
Seth Lot
was. He warned me. I didn't listen. Mom was dead. I hated everything. I didn't love this world enough, Finn. So I went with Seth Lot because he offered an invitation I couldn't resist. Look at you.” She laughed a little, her eyes shining. “You're not my little sister anymore.
How long have I been gone?
”

“Over a year. And your new friends”—Finn couldn't keep the fury from her voice—“made it look like you'd killed yourself.”

Lily went still. “Dad . . . ?”

“Thinks you're dead.”

Lily put her hands over her face. Finn hugged her again and said, “I'm going to get you out of here. I just need to find Jack.”

“Jack,” Lily whispered.

Then the wolves came and dragged them apart.

THEY TOOK FINN AND LILY TO SETH LOT.
The Wolf still sat before the huge fireplace that reminded Finn of a dragon's mouth. Leander crouched nearby, his head bowed, his bruised hands loose on his knees. When he looked up at Lily, pain and yearning crossed his face.

Ignoring him, Lily moved to stand before Seth Lot. “
Let her go
. You don't need her. You have me.”

Seth Lot smiled, but his face was hard. “But I don't want you anymore, my Lily.”

“Bastard!” Lily went for him, but Leander rose and caught her hand.

“It doesn't matter, Lil,” Finn said hoarsely. “We're going home.”

“And how,” Seth Lot gently interrupted, “do you plan on accomplishing that extraordinary feat, Serafina?”

Finn said her voice low, “Every story written about your kind is in our favor.”

The Wolf rose. Firelight reflected in his eyes. He breathed out, “Is that so? How do
traitors
end in your stories? Shall we see how they end in mine?”

Lily reached for Leander, who looked haggard and resigned.

Seth Lot stalked out of the room and the masked wolves, bracketing Finn and Lily, escorted them into the tree-pillared hall.
Jack,
Finn thought with gut-wrenching fear.

Between two pillars stood the Rooks: Trip, Hip Hop, and Bottle; Victor,
Emily, and Eammon Tirnagoth. They weren't in their raven finery now, only casual clothes, which somehow made them seem vulnerable. Seth Lot folded his hands on the snarling wolf head that topped his walking stick and gazed at the Rooks. Softly, he said, “They promised me loyalty, these three. One of them told Phouka Banríon about me.”

“It wasn't us.” Trip stood with his dark hair in his eyes. “We would never do that,
Madadh aillaid
.”

“We were loyal to Reiko Fata. She gave us immortality.” Hip Hop glared at Leander and pointed. “
He
knew you were here, your girl's
lover
. He's been hunting you—”

“No, Emily.” Seth Lot stepped toward her and cupped a hand beneath her chin. “Leander has been working for me to keep his Lily from being gutted.”

Finn and Lily both turned to stare at Leander, who bowed his head, his hands clutched tightly together.

“And you, Eammon?” Seth Lot sauntered to stand before Bottle, the youngest, who glared ahead like a soldier about to be interrogated.

“Bottle.” Hip Hop nudged him, rhinestone pins glinting in her ropes of black-and-blond hair.

Bottle raised his head. His expression was defiant as he said, “
Down with the Wolf
.”

“No,” Hip Hop breathed out. “
Eammon
.”

Seth Lot smiled. He stepped back and turned away. Gracefully, he plucked one of the rhinestone pins from Hip Hop's hair, whirled—and jabbed it into Bottle's right eye. Bottle—Eammon—screamed.

Lot slid the pin back out. As the Rook fell to his knees, clutching one hand over his damaged eye, the Wolf returned the pin to Hip Hop's hair.

Hip Hop shrieked curses at Seth Lot, who walked away from her. As Trip grabbed his brother and hauled him up, the wolves surrounded the Rooks.

Finn let go of Lily's hand and started forward.

Seth Lot seized Finn's hand. As Trip and Hip Hop, cradling their wounded brother, were escorted away, Finn saw blood drops on the floor.

Seth Lot pulled Finn toward the first drop, crouched down, touched it, and raised his fingertip. The blood faded on his skin. He said, “The
memory
of blood—that's all changelings have. Isn't that right, my Lily?”

Finn thought of Moth, who sometimes
forgot
to bleed. She glanced at her sister, who gazed at Seth Lot as if she'd like to murder him.

“We do have teeth when we need them, and claws.” Lot rose and stepped close to Finn. “Do you think you are my death, Serafina Sullivan? You and that twisted-up Jack now locked in my tower? You are not.”

Lot's revelation of Jack's capture stunned Finn, who couldn't move as the Wolf slipped a hand into her pocket and removed the pewter-dog-capped vial—the one that had fallen from Jack's coat. He turned the bottle in his fingers. “
Aconitum lycoctonum
. Wolfsbane. The real stuff. This could kill me. Shame on you.”

He dropped the vial on the floor and crushed it beneath his boot. Glad she'd tucked Jack's elixir and the
Tamasgi'po
into her Doc Martens, she said, “If you hurt him, I
will
kill you.”

Lot only looked at her as if he pitied her.

Lily broke away from the two Fatas holding her. She put herself between the Wolf and Finn, but the Wolf only strode away, signaling to his pack, two of whom dragged Leander with them. Lot said, “I do admire courage, however. Lily, come with me. Antoinette, return Serafina to her room.”

Lily looked back at Finn, her eyes dark, before the doors shut between them.

“THIS SNOW IS YOUR FAULT, LITTLE MAYFLY.”

Finn frowned at the young female Fata who stood in the doorway to Finn's prison, a windowless stone chamber with fancy furniture. A lamp of pink glass glowed on the nightstand, and books and old board games had been considerately left in a mahogany cabinet. They'd taken her coat, her backpack, the silver dagger. “What snow?”

The Fata girl was aristocratic despite her shaven head, the skin around her silver eyes painted with crimson designs. She was smiling and her teeth were sharp. “The snow falling around this house. There's not supposed to be snow.” She polished her pointy nails on the fur vest she wore over an emerald gown. She indicated the dress folded on the bed. Next to it was a black wooden half mask carved into the face of a deer. “He wants you to wear that, queen killer.”