Flicker (57 page)

“Be still, nephew,” Feronia replied coolly. “You are not King yet. It is not your place to question me.”

Her words seemed to puncture Umbriel, deflate him. Casting his gaze downward, he said, “Of course. I apologize, My Lady. I forgot myself.”

Smiling that frosty smile, Feronia reached out and patted his arm. His expression was dark when he looked at her.

Finally, the Summer Queen returned her attention to the dryad.

“Now that the girl stands before me, I cannot help but notice that her magic is strong,” she said. “Stronger, perhaps, than it ought to be. Tell me, little one. Have you been learning magic?”

“Yes,” Lee admitted, a little sheepishly.

“From the other children, no doubt,”
Cressida
said. Her voice was low and smooth. “
Several
have
the
Second Sight, and all have impressive energies about them.”

Feronia nodded sagely. “This changes things. It would be a shame to waste the girl’s talents.” She looked to her sister. A thought seemed to pass between them, though neither spoke.

“It is decided,”
Cressida
announced, a moment later. A sinking feeling seized Lee by the ankles and heaved downward. “Byrony shall prove her strength and cleverness to the gathered Court
…
by dueling with the human girl.”

Chapter Twenty-Two:

The Hill Folk

A colossal cheer rose up from the gathered faeries, as if the prospect of a fight were
overwhelmingly thrilling
. Lee’s insides seemed to liquefy within her. Almost involuntarily, she turned and, for the first time, locked eyes with Umbriel.

His expression was pained, his green eyes large and sorrowful, like a man faced with a terrible choice. He rose stiffly; the Queens did the same.

A knight prodded
her back
with something sharp. W
incing, she looked to Nasser as she was herded awa
y
from the others
. His face was pale and drawn.

Several knights escorted Lee away from the gathered fey and across the revel, to the dueling area; she quickly lost sight of Nasser and the others.

A wide ring of toadstools marked the dueling area. Somehow the thrones had already been moved to a
high
tree-stump
platform
.
The monarchs watched from their raised vantage point—the best seat in the house, Lee suspected.

Beyond the ring, she spotted Nasser and the others. Their hands were bound
in front of them
and they were surrounded by a tight circle of armed knights. She tried to make eye contact with one of them, any of them, but they were preoccupied, whispering to each other in low voices. The
ring was surrounded
by faeries—not just the
Daoine Sidhe
, either, but nearly all the f
aeries in the revel, all
jostling each other to get a good spot from which to watch.

Lee and Byrony were led to the center of the dueling area and made to stand facing the thrones. Beside her, Byrony
looked
calm and fresh and casually strong. Her gaze kept flickering up toward the thrones, toward Umbriel, but it never lingered on him more than a moment.

At length, Queen Feronia stood. “The terms of the duel are thus,” she
declared
. “When I give the word, you shall battle until one or both of you are unable to fight. You shall remain within the ring at all times. The combat shall have no restrictions. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Lee managed.

“Yes, My Queen,” Byrony said.

The dryad turned, but before she could take a step, Lee asked
Byrony
, “Why do you hate me so much? Tell me before we start this. I want to know.”

Byrony blinked slowly, but before she could speak, Rodney broke in:

“
Byrony
hates you,” he drawled, “because she is a
most
jealous and vengeful termagant.”

Looking as if she’d been slapped, Byrony whirled toward Rodney, fists balled. Before she could speak, though, Umbriel straightened in his throne.

“Riordan,” he warned
, leaning forward
. “I understand that you have been among mortals for many years. But surely you recall that Court requires a certain level of
decorum
.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Rodney said, bowing slightly. “When one is at Court, one does not fling insults recklessly. But this, my Lord, is no insult. It is a statement of fact. The dryad
who
stands before you is a talented manipulator and an accomplished sneak.”

“Byrony has been nothing but faithful to me,” Umbriel said immediately. “She has had some small indiscretions, but—”

“I cannot lie, Umbriel.
You know that.
And
Byrony
cannot lie, either
, for all the falsehoods she has spun.”

“Then you are somehow
mistaken
.”

“Ask her, if you do not believe me,” Rodney insisted hotly. “Ask her!
"

Umbriel’s lovely face was flushed. Lee suspected it had been a very long time since anyone had spoken to him like this, if ever. Finally, he turned to Byrony.

“Defend yourself,” he said.

For the longest time, Byrony just stared at him. “You have many admirers,” she began. “It is difficult to ignore them, and difficult to avoid some jealousy.”

“That doesn’t answer the question
, dryad
,” Rodney growled. “What about the girl?”

Byrony pres
sed her lips together. “
You were over-fond of her,” she admitted finally. “You spent so many hours with her, both accompanied and alone. You fawned over her so. No other faery was allowed to so much as
look
at her. It was only natural that I should think—”

“She was a
child
,” Umbriel said, mystified. “A lost child, and I pitied her that. She needed looking after. Byrony, how could you think that of me?”

But she didn’t answer, just cast her gaze downward, shamefaced. A murmur rushed over the crowd. Umbriel’s expression was pained.

“You must understand,” Byrony implored. “All
that
I have done was out of love for you.”

Umbriel stared. “What else have you done?”

“Plenty,” Rodney broke in. “Do you remember Mealla, that gray-eyed elf whom you courted for a short time? It was years ago. You shunned her when a pair of fauns
swore
that they’d seen her with a pixie boy. But there
was
no pixie boy. There was only Byrony’s glamour, making them believe things that had never been.”

“She did not love you,” Byrony said hastily. “She loved your
status
.”

“Then there was Liadan,” Rodney continued, looking Umbriel in the eyes. “She dallied with mortal boys, even as she fawned over you.”

“She would have been unfaithful,” Byrony insisted.

Still, Rodney plowed ahead. “And Kiera, whose noble father forced her to chase after you, though her real love lay with a nixie.”

“Her attentions were forced and farce!”

“No.” Confusion was plain on
Umbriel’s
beautiful face. “It’s impossible.”

“Surely you don’t think it was coincidence, that the secrets of every girl were discovered? And all the while, for every girl who was forced away, a certain dryad drew closer and closer to you?” He shot Byrony a black look.

“I had thought you the honest one,” Umbriel said
, his voice raw
. Byrony opened her mouth
, but he didn’t let her
speak
. “The true one. And a fool was made of me.”

“You are trusting, Umbriel,” Rodney shrugged. “
You want so badly to believe the best of people, a
nd you are quick to fall in love. That is a dangerous combination.”

“How could you know
this
, Riordan
?” Umbriel demanded suddenly. “
You were my friend.
Why did you not tell me?”

“It was not my place, and you were not ready to believe such claims. It’s hardly my place now, and you are not much readier. But here we are.”

“I see,” Umbriel nodded, though his expression said otherwise. Turning his gaze upon Byrony, he took a b
reath.
“Are you unable to refute any of this?”

“I did
those things
because I
love
you,” she persisted. Her eyes were hard and shiny. “I spun untruths and weaved illusions to spare you heartbreak
at the hands of others. I love
you more than anyo
ne else ever could.
Can you not understand?”

Though Umbriel’s expression was strangely blank, his eyes were cold and pain-filled. “You,” he said,
slowly and clearly, “have proven
yourself a liar. You have humiliated me before my entire Court. And now you will obey your Queens and duel for your honor.”

“And what of your love?” Byrony asked crisply. Her back was straight and her face was calm, but her hands were shaking. “Am I to duel for that as well?”

Umbriel said nothing to that. He just clenched his hands into tight fists and sat back in his throne. Beside him, Feronia was smiling a cruel, icy smile.

“Perhaps now we can begin,” she said. “Take your positions.”

Byrony strode to one end of the ring; copying her, Lee turned and did the same. When they stood facing each other from opposite ends of the ring, Lee could see the deadly glint in Byrony’s eyes, even from this distance. Fear began to gnaw at her insides with sharp, eager teeth.

Feronia called, “Ready yourselves.”

But before she could give the word, Filo and Nasser shouted, “Wait!”

All eyes turned to them. “Speak,” Feronia allowed. “But be brief.”

Nasser and Filo exchanged glances
, their brows furrowed
. Filo’s eyes were bright and alert; Nasser was pale and drawn, looking as if he might be sick. After a moment, Filo nodded.

“We respectfully request that Lee’s belongings be returned,” Filo said. “She entered this revel with a bag filled with supplies. Let her have it back.”

“Why should she have it?”
Cressida
asked. “Byrony holds no weapons.”

“Byrony herself is a weapon, My Lady. Lee is not.”

Feronia seemed to consider this. Finally, she announced, “Bring forth the bag. The girl will have what she can carry in her pockets.”

There was a shuffling
beyond the edge of the ring; then a silent knight rushed into the ring, shoving the backpack into Lee’s hands. She tore it open and grabbed what she thought was most useful—a Block, a dagger, a plastic bag filled with salt—and stuffed them into her pockets.

Lee straightened, trying to stay expressionless. She glanced toward the outer edge of the ring, where Nasser and the others still stood, watching.

“Now,” Feronia intoned. “Begin.”

Immediately, the ground began to rumble. Huge, thorn-stud
ded vines erupted from the earth
, each about three feet tall, as thick around as Lee’s leg at the base and tapering to a sharp point at the top. Their thorns
were like large, hungry teeth.

The grass shot upward, too, and was suddenly knee-high. Slim, whip-like vines spiraled up from the
ground
, swaying threateningly. While she watched them warily, waiting for the first one to strike at her, one slithered along the ground and snagged her ankle; she noticed too late and was swept off her feet. She landed hard on her back, the breath knocked out of her. She struggled for a moment to suck air into her lungs as the rustling of vines filled her ears.

Then she was up and running, as quickly as she’d ever run, quicker. The air seemed filled with vines, swinging d
own at her head
, whipping out to catch her legs, striking out at her back and chest like a forest of punishing hands. It was all she could do to dodge them. All around her, the crowd was booing loudly: They were here to see a fight, not to watch some human girl scamper around the ring like a frightened rodent.

But she kept running, skipping around exposed roots and diving around the thorny vines, until she tripped in the thick grass. She rolled, staggered to her feet, and was promptly pulled down by a vine. Lee kicked against the vine, but was dragged backward nonetheless; her hand dove into her pocket and withdrew the knife.

When the vine quit pulling, Lee rolled onto her back and found Byrony standing over her, one cupped hand raised. “A quick duel to be sure,” she said, loudly enough that her voice carried over the crowd.