Realm of Mirrors (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 3) (14 page)

“
Reun
?” he cut in. “By the gods, you’ve a strange definition of friend.”

“So you know him, too.” I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. He seemed to know all the important Fae, on both sides of the line. Which didn’t make a lot of sense. The Seelie and Unseelie despised each other, but Uriskel wasn’t taking sides. Apparently he just hated them all, with the exception of his brother.

It finally occurred to me that if Cobalt was a prince, and really his brother—then Uriskel must be, too.

And I had to wonder why he didn’t mention that.

Sadie roused herself from staring dully at nothing, long enough to shoot him a narrow-eyed glance. “What’s your problem with Reun?” she said. “I thought you’d be okay with him, at least. Taeral said you only hated your own kind.”

“Sadie, don’t,” I whispered sharply. He’d finally settled down to semi-decent, and she was going to piss him off all over again.

He did look furious. But it only lasted for a few seconds, and then his jaw firmed and he looked away. “My own kind,” he said hoarsely. “I’d likely despise them as well, if there were any of them.”

“What are you talking about?” Sadie said. “You’re Unseelie.”

“I am. And yet, I am not.” He closed his eyes briefly, and opened them frowning. “My mother was Unseelie.
Is
Unseelie, I suppose,” he said reluctantly. “But my father…”

“Jesus Christ.” I got it without him having to say another word. “Your father is Cobalt’s father. The Seelie King.”

He winced. “Aye, that’s right. I am a halfling, the child of a forbidden union,” he said. “And I should not have lived.”

Sadie looked as shocked as I felt. “What do you mean, you shouldn’t have lived?”

“As I said, it is forbidden.” Uriskel clenched a fist, still refusing to look at either of us. “Halflings are summarily murdered at birth. But I was spared, because of my
royalty.
” He spat the word like a curse. “And because the Seelie King had plans for me. When I came of age, I was made a ward of the Summer Court. Essentially, their property. The perfect spy, able to pass as Unseelie and strike at their enemies.”

The sadistic pet of the Seelie nobles. That’s what Taeral had called him—and Uriskel hadn’t denied it. “So you didn’t have a choice,” I said. “All that stuff about being a traitor, turning over your own kind…”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve done unspeakable things in the name of the Seelie Court. For two hundred years and more, I served their savage whims,” he said. “Resistance or disobedience brought pain and suffering, and failure would’ve been my death sentence. Yet I’d have gladly died, were it not for the threat against my brothers.”

“Brothers?” Sadie echoed. “As in, more than one?”

“Aye. There is Cobalt…and there is Braelan. The true Prince.” He flashed a bitter smile. “The Seelie King forbid everyone who knew from telling Braelan of my true heritage. If he’d not discovered it on his own, I’d yet be a slave to the Court. But he and Cobalt conspired to set me free—and now Braelan is King.”

Damn. I wasn’t exactly happy that I’d been right when I thought Uriskel had been abused. But Jesus, for two hundred
years
? No wonder the guy had anger management issues. “I’m sorry, man,” I said. “There are no words. But I have to say, I don’t blame you for not explaining all this. Even when Taeral came after you the way he did.”

He shrugged. “Cobalt tells me I should break my silence, inform everyone that I’ve done nothing wrong. He believes that, of course—that I am innocent. But I
have
done things. Terrible things. Coerced or not, they were still my actions,” he said. “I am not as blameless as my brother believes. And so, I hold myself accountable…to ensure that it never happens again.”

Did I ever understand that. He and I had a lot more in common than I thought. It hadn’t been a week yet since I murdered a bunch of people to save another bunch, and telling myself they were the bad guys didn’t help. Neither did being under the influence of Milus Dei’s drug—because I’d taken it willingly. I injected myself.

No one would blame me for it, so I had to. Because I wasn’t ever doing that again.

“Oh my God.”

Sadie’s frantic whisper drew my attention. I thought she just felt bad for Uriskel, but she wasn’t looking at him. She was staring past me, her eyes wide and unblinking.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to see whatever it was. But suddenly, I didn’t have a choice—because “it” appeared between me and the fire pit. And it wasn’t alone.

We were surrounded by ghosts.

C
HAPTER 19

T
here were five of them. Semi-transparent women in hooded green robes with long, tangled hair, floating a few feet above the ground. Ancient, wrinkled faces, gleaming white eyes. Their robes shivered and flapped in the still air, as if a phantom wind blew only on them.

“Banshees,” Uriskel grated before I could ask what the hell they were. “Do not engage them.”

The one in front of me floated closer, holding her arms out wide. “Who calls upon Nyantha the wise, daughter of the spirits and guardian of the Trees of Ankou?” Her voice boomed out like a cannon, and the rolling echo of the words lingered in my ears.

I shuddered. Do not engage—yeah, right. They really looked like they were going to engage us, like it or not.

The banshee sighed, lowered her arms and planted a hand on her ghostly hip. “Well?” she said in a normal voice. “It
was
you lot calling, wasn’t it?”

“Um.” I blinked and glanced at Uriskel, who was busy staring open-mouthed at the banshee. “Yes?” I said.

“Well, ye can bloody well stop now, can’t ye? Oberon’s knees, we’ve been hearing the racket all morning.”

This was not what I expected when I thought banshee. But I’d never actually met one, so maybe this was normal. “So…are you Nyantha?” I said.

The other banshees giggled, but they stopped with a stern look from the apparent leader. “Do I look Sluagh to ye, DeathSpeaker?”

I gave a slight frown. “You know who I am.”

“Course I do. I’m dead, ain’t I?”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Uriskel stepped forward with a wicked sneer. “What business is it of yours whether we speak with Nyantha, hag?”

“Hag! I’ll have ye—”

One of the other banshees floated over to her, and I realized with a start that her face was smooth and unlined now. She whispered something in the leader’s ear.

The lead banshee groaned. “Hang this bloody tradition,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Nyantha the wise, indeed.” She passed a hand down her face, and the old woman became young and breathtaking. Except for the creepy white eyes, and the whole being a ghost thing. “That better, then?” she said.

Uriskel was unmoved. “You still haven’t answered my question. Banshee. Meddling is not in your job description.”

“Typical,” the banshee snorted. “Ye think it’s all wailing and keening, washing bloody clothes at the river, that sort of shite? We get a noble death—what, every few hundred years, if we’re lucky. And we’re not just going to sit around meanwhile waiting for some nob to kick off, are we? Surely ye know this,
Prince
Uriskel.”

“Enough,” he snarled.

“Not one for labels, are ye?” she said with a smile. “Well, neither are we. So I’ll kindly thank ye to stuff yer assumptions.”

“All right,” he said. “Point taken.”

Sadie touched my arm, and I almost jumped. “What the hell’s going on?” she said under her breath.

“I have no idea.”

The leader managed to look offended. “Ye called for Nyantha,” she said, like she was explaining to a distracted child. “We’ve come to take ye to her.”

“About time,” Uriskel said. “Give us a moment to pack, and—”

“Not you lot.” The banshee’s features looked almost apologetic as she pointed at me. “Only the one who seeks her counsel may enter the realm of the guardian.”

Uriskel folded his arms. “The realm of the guardian. Really.”

“Sorry. I don’t make the rules,” she said.

“And what promise do we have that you’ll bring him back?”

The banshee bobbed up and down a few times. “I suppose ye shouldn’t be left here alone, at any rate,” she said. “All the trampling about ye’ve done since ye got here, psychically speaking, it’s lucky ye didn’t rouse something worse than us.” She looked over her shoulder. “Pohn. Pehn.”

Two of the other banshees floated over.

“My sisters’ll stay with ye, until we’ve come back with yer friend,” she said. “Will that do ye?”

“Fine,” Uriskel grumbled.

Pohn and Pehn looked at each other, and then smiled teasingly at him. He rolled his eyes and turned away.

Well. This could get awkward.

“Are you all sisters?” I said, hoping to steer things in a different direction.

“All banshees are sisters, in a manner of speaking,” the lead banshee said. “I’m Pan, by the bye. That’s Pyn, and she’s…” She waved a hand at the one who’d whispered in her ear. “Alice,” she sighed dramatically.

Alice giggled and vanished abruptly, only to reappear at Pan’s side, waggling her fingers at me.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “I’m Gideon, and this is Sadie. I guess you know Uriskel.”

“Right, then,” Pan said. “Now we’re all introduced, so let’s go.”

Sadie frowned and looked at me. “Are you sure about this?”

“No. But I promise I’ll be back.”

She nodded. “Hurry.”

I definitely intended to try.

C
HAPTER 20

I
t wasn’t long before I lost all sense of direction in the unchanging forest.

Pyn floated in the lead, her hands pressed together solemly in front of her. Pan stayed to my left, and Alice was apparently supposed to flank me on the right. But she kept vanishing in silky clouds of multi-colored smoke, or sinking slowly into the ground with an expression of mock horror, or air-swimming circles around the group.

She disappeared again, and then popped into view right in front of me. Upside down.

“Alice!” Pan hissed. “Can’t ye stop fidgeting for five minutes?”

With a high-pitched giggle, Alice flipped in midair and landed on my right. She made a show of craning forward to look at Pyn, and then copied her sister’s choir-girl posture and tried to look serious. But the corners of her mouth kept twitching.

I gave it two minutes. Three at the most.

Pan shook her head. “Ye’ll have to forgive Alice,” she said. “She’s not been dead long, and the novelty hasn’t worn off yet.”

“Oh. Right.” I guessed it was good to know there was novelty in being dead. But there was something else bothering me, and I’d finally figured out what it was. “Can I ask you something…Pan?” I said.

“Aye. As if I could stop ye, DeathSpeaker.”

“Yeah, it’s about that.” I wasn’t quite sure how to ask it. “You’re dead, right?”

“Told ye that already, didn’t I?”

“You did mention it. So…why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Should I be?” she said.

“Er, no. But all the other dead people have been, so far.” I frowned. “And you keep answering my questions with questions. I didn’t think you could do that.”

“Well, I’d answer with answers, if ye’d ask me something that
has
an answer.”

“Okay,” I said. “Now I’m really confused.”

She laughed, but there was nothing mocking in it. “Ye’ve no idea what it means to be the DeathSpeaker, do ye?” she said. “Just as green as our Alice, here.”

Alice joined in with a giggle.

“You’re right. I’m clueless,” I said. “That’s why I want to talk to Nyantha. I heard she knew the DeathSpeaker before me, and I was hoping she could help me figure all this stuff out.”

“Oh, for the love of Titania. Ye’ll swell her dear old head right up, and she’ll be intolerably full of herself for weeks.” Pan flashed a fond smile. “To answer the question, I don’t fear ye because I’m already on the living side of the barrier—and I’ve no secrets to keep. Ye’ll not understand that quite yet. But ye will, soon.”

Oh, good. I could hardly wait.