Poison (26 page)

Why? Why, when Verde tried so hard, was it doomed over and over again? What did the other three countries have that they did not? When had it all gone so wrong?

Elianne had been the first to fall, but Gael sensed it had not started there—that was merely when whoever was behind it had begun to take action. But the Beasts, the way they had fallen, was the key to the mystery, he knew it. If he could just figure it out ...

The key to the mystery ...

The key ...

Pain sliced through Gael's head, and he turned around in the bed again, gripping his head, teeth biting into his lip as he waited for the waves of agony to abate. But still those words echoed in his head: 
the key

No, the
keys.

His door burst open, jarring him, scattering his thoughts. Gael stared blankly up at the canopy of his bed, drawing ragged breaths. As he familiar, brisk steps approach his bed, he turned to look at Freddie.

She was pale and haggard, as dull and broken as he felt. "Ailill has been poisoned."

Fresh tears stung Gael's eyes, but he held them back. "Have you taken him yet?"

"No, they only just brought me word. I thought we would go together."

Gael nodded and made himself sit up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Leaving the bed, standing, took more effort. But Ailill deserved his care, not his despair. Finally on his feet, he held out a hand.

Freddie took it, curling their fingers together and holding tightly as though she feared that letting go would leave her to be taken away in a powerful current. Leaving the relative sanctuary of his bedroom, they slowly walked through the halls. They were distressingly empty, depressingly dark. Gael remembered all the times he had groused about the crowding, the noise, the endless demands for his attention.

"It will never be the same, will it?" Freddie said the words softly, as if she did not really want to hear them herself.

Gael shook his head and held her hand tighter. "No. Right now, I don't even know how to fix it. I feel like it is our fault."

"It is our fault," Freddie said. "We are the Guardians, we protect the land and our children. Our actions, or inactions, brought us to this. It is our job to set to rights ..."

She trailed off, but Gael could finish the sentence for her. How could they set it to rights when they were the source of the problem? He didn't know how they were, exactly, but the thought was right. They were the problem.

They did not resume speaking as they walked the halls and finally reached Ailill's rooms. Pushing the door open, Gael looked around and immediately saw Ailill on the floor in front of a sofa. Crossing the room, he knelt and gently stroked Ailill's face. He frowned thoughtfully when he realized something was different about Ailill—he'd been crying. Probably because he had lost Ivan. But all the other beasts had died looking so calm, as though they had never seen their end coming.

Something about Ailill's tears, the way he lay on the floor ... a chill ran up Gael's spine when he realized that Ailill had not gone as easily as the others. Why was he different?

The first and the last.

Gael hissed as the words slid through his mind, heard Freddie do the same.

"What's going on?" Freddie asked.

"We are, I think, beginning to come to the heart of the matter," Gael said grimly. "What a shame that heart is very likely rotted." He scooped Ailill up in his arms and rose. "Let us take the White Panther to join his fellows."

Freddie said nothing, simply led the way to the Sanctuary. When they arrived, the doors were unguarded, the men who always stood vigil having long ago succumbed to the poisonous rage that had ruined the country.

The Great Oak was almost entirely alive again, only the barest tips of the highest branches still petrified. But even the Oak could not soothe Gael's turmoil. He laid Ailill down in the grass and combed his hair from his face, wishing desperately that he knew how to set all to rights. "Where did we go wrong?" he asked. "How do we fix it?"

"I don't know," Freddie whispered. "Surely if the other countries could manage it, we can too. We cannot be the only country doomed to failure." She rubbed at her temples, face twisted in a grimace of pain. "I am the mortal incarnation of the Pegasus, destined to be a god. I should not be this bloody incompetent!" She ended the words on a shout, kicking angrily at the grass.

Abandoning Gael and Ailill, she walked over to where Verenne lay and sat down beside her, pulling Verenne's head into her lap. The sound of Freddie crying was awful; she was not the sort of person to cry in adversity of any sort. If Freddie was resorting to tears, then it seemed the battle was well and truly lost.

Gael looked Ailill over one last time, then rose and went around to each of the Beasts in turn, willing them to speak to him, to offer him something—anything. They were the keys to all of this.

The keys.

Pain. Unbelievable pain. Not just in his body, though the fatal knife wounds inflicted seared like nothing he had ever felt before. No, the real pain ran deeper, cut into his soul by a blade of betrayal. He summoned the last of his fading strength, stole the spell, and made the prisoners into keys.

"Gael!"

Gael opened his eyes, not realizing until then that he'd closed them. He looked up and realized then that not only had he closed his eyes, at some point he had fallen. Freddie stared at him with an expression of panic, which was even worse than the tears. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Freddie said. "You were walking around, and then suddenly you said 'the keys!' and fell back. You were—I don't know. Lost in a nightmare or something. You kept repeating 'the keys' and you were crying. I thought you were going to have a seizure for a moment." She tugged him up and held him tightly, sobbing against his shoulder. Gael just held her, trying to still his own trembling.

They were falling apart—maybe they had already fallen apart. Just two more days until the Great Oak woke and the ceremony took place. Why did it feel as though it was already too late?

"We can't give up," Freddie said. "There must be something we can do."

Gael nodded and slowly pulled away to stand up. "We have to figure out who is behind all of this. It feels like we should have already. So why haven't we?"

"I don't know," Freddie said quietly. "I can't think around these bloody headaches, and having my people beat me half to death—beat you half to death, and leave poor Etain to manage without us—is not helping."

"Headaches, yes," Gael said. "It's impossible to think when pain beats down on us. I thought it was because of the loss of the Beasts, the loss of control over our children ..."

His head throbbed anew, and he almost gave up, let the thoughts slide away, but then he remembered that Noire was dead and no pain was greater than that. The agony of knowing he would never again see Noire, hold him, kiss him. That he had never been able to stand with Noire at his side ... that his cowardice in keeping Noire a secret had left him without those memories ...

What was a headache, even a crippling one, after that? He had let down his children and the man who loved him. He could endure a bloody headache. Instead of avoiding the pain, Gael embraced it, dragged it close, held fast, and pushed through—

And the walls around the most inner parts of his mind shattered like glass, and the dark memories behind it dragged him down into their depths.

With a soft gasp, Gael blacked out.

He could hear voices. Soft, furtive, both familiar. The first was lyrical, sweet to the ears and utterly captivating. The other was deeper, definitely masculine, the sort of voice that drew people in and made the most boring words fascinating.

Why was Etain speaking with Licht at so late an hour? No one had even seen Licht for months, not since he'd flounced off in one of his huffs to bury himself in his temple in Sonnenstrahl.

He moved toward the voices, pushed open the partially open door to the Sanctuary, and drew breath to announce himself—but stopped when he saw Etain handing over a vial that Licht neatly tucked away in a pocket of his jacket.

A shiver ran down his spine; something was not right. The fact that Etain had not mentioned she was meeting with Licht was enough to tell him that, but that she was giving him something that she had clearly made just for him set alarm bells ringing in his head.

The light of the sun shone down through the glass ceiling, washing lovingly over Licht, setting him to glowing softly. His hair was molten gold, his skin like ivory, and his eyes glowed like the sun that loved him. He bent to kiss Etain's cheek and whispered something to her that made Etain smile in a troubling way.

In the next moment, he was gone. Etain laughed softly, a hard chilling sound. She gathered up the voluminous skirts of her shimmering gown and turned, freezing when she saw him. "Sweet Unicorn," she purred. "Have you come to find me? It is not yet time for the ceremony."

He didn't move as she approached him and twined around him, but he did shudder when her lips moved against his. When he did not respond to the kiss, she drew back and frowned at him. "Whatever is wrong, my love?"

"What did you give Licht?"

Etain made an impatient noise and tossed her head. "A gift for his little shadow, that's all. Stop fretting, you do not look pretty when you scowl. Come now, this hour of night I can think of plenty of better things to do." Her lips brushed his jaw, hands teasing along his body.

He pushed her away, a knot of dread forming in his stomach. "Etain, we talked to you this morning. This—the three of us—is over. It's not what all of us want anymore. You said you understood."

Rage sparked in her eyes. He recoiled, nearly tripping over his own feet, completely taken aback by it. How was it possible for one person to feel so much hate? "Etain—"

He stopped at the sound of footsteps, and they both turned as Freddie walked in. She lifted her brows in silent query to see them. Gael noticed the fresh love bite on her throat, and any other moment he would have teased her about it. But Etain was still flush against him, and he could feel her begin to shake, knew it was rage that made her tremble.

They should have known the discussion that morning had gone too smoothly, that Etain had taken it too well. He loved her, even if he was no longer in love with her, but Etain was jealous, vindictive, and occasionally even cruel. The dark side of life, someone had once said, though he no longer remembered who. If he had to guess, he would say Licht. The god of light and order had always been the hardest of them, the most jaded. They'd built their world with the hope they could create a happy one, and while Licht had shared that hope, he had always been its cynical shadow as well.

"What's going on here?" Freddie asked quietly, looking between them with troubled eyes. She stepped inside the Sanctuary and closed the door. "I felt disquiet in the bond, and if you do not bank it, the rest of the palace will shortly begin to feel it."

Gael shoved Etain away and strode deeper into the Sanctuary, soothed by the presence of the Great Oak, cooled by the shade it cast. "Etain was meeting with Licht, and she gave him something, but she will not say why or what."

"I see," Freddie said and took firm hold of Etain's upper arm. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Etain snapped. "I—"

They all stopped as the earth trembled, and Gael shared a troubled look with Freddie. "That is the third time today. Something is troubling the Basilisk deeply. We should find out what."

"He won't see anyone," Etain said. "But Licht has gone to speak with him, so stop worrying about it."

Her cold, dismissive tone sparked Gael's anger. "You are being a brat," he said. "More and more you grow cold, unfeeling."

"I am not the unfeeling one!" Etain snarled, and the hate in her eyes left Gael speechless. "You are the ones who do not care! So busy playing with your harlot children—"

"That's enough," Freddie said, her voice cracking the air like a whip. "We had this discussion this morning, Etain. I know you're angry; I would expect nothing less. But if you would stop being selfish—"

"I'm not selfish!" Etain snarled and moved, the sound of her hand striking Freddie's cheek echoing through the Sanctuary, leaving all three of them in a stunned silence.

Freddie touched her bottom lip, which was bleeding faintly from where Etain's blow had just caught it. "You spilled my blood," she said quietly. "So much hate, Etain. Don't you see, this is why it is better that we split? Once, we three were a solid triad, and that triad was best for Verde and the world. But the bond that was is gone now. Instead of being bound happily together, we are chained together. Choice has turned into tradition, has turned into a slow-acting poison. We will always be family, always love each other, but it is time the nature of that love changed. You must accept this, or everyone else will suffer most for it."

Etain screamed in fury and lashed out at them. Gael wanted to cry, feeling—tasting—so much hate coming from someone who claimed to love him.

"I'm begging you, Etain, sweet sister, dear Queen—don't do this. Stop!" He cried out in pain as her nails raked him, and he tried to block it, tried to share calming thoughts. But her mindless hate poisoned the words, destroyed them, fed her jealous rage.

"You're mine!" She screamed, tears of anger streaming down her face. "No one else can have you! I will spill their blood and you'll come back to me!"

Gael snarled and on Etain's other side Freddie cursed. Still, he tried to plead, not wanting it all to come to the terrible, tragic end he feared. "Please, Etain. Calm down. Don't do this. I am sorry we have caused you so much pain, but you must calm down. Let us discuss this more reasonably."