Autumn's Bane Page 6

  He waited, but no one said a word. Now was the time for objections if anybody decided they didn’t want to proceed. After a moment, he set down the scepter and the scroll. “Then, if you are all agreed, I shall open the parley. Herne, son of Cernunnos, you have the rights of first speech.”

  With a long sigh, Ginty sat down next to me. He looked harried, but he always took the parleys seriously. If something went wrong, it was up to him to put a stop to it. He was the keeper of the Waystation, with absolute authority.

  Herne cleared his throat as he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Queen Saílle, Queen Névé, we come to ask a boon from you. A serious situation has arisen. It seems as though Typhon is making his first move.”

  “Continue,” Saílle said, her voice catching on the wind and vanishing almost before we could hear it.

  Herne explained the situation, and when he came to the part about the reports we had seen on the news, Ginty pushed a television set over to where we could all see it. I wasn’t clear on how he managed to get the signal in here, but he did. He turned the TV on just in time to see the same footage we had seen before. Saílle and Névé watched silently, and it was impossible to read their expressions.

  “This is only going to get worse. You know it. We know it. There’s no denying the fact that Typhon is here to stay until the gods can figure out what to do with him. And I will tell you this quite honestly, we are nowhere near to having an answer. We haven’t even figured out how he was sent into stasis in the first place. Until we know that, we can’t figure out how to send him back, or even if it’s possible to do so again.”

  “This is troubling news indeed,” Saílle said. She glanced across the room at Névé. “Have you noticed any uprisings among the dead?”

  Névé shook her head. “But then again, that’s not something we keep watch for. What do you wish from us, Herne, son of Cernunnos?”

  “We would ask that you give us control over the Fae militia. Give us the ability to call them out on situations like this. Humans cannot stand against these creatures, and who knows what else the dragons have up their sleeves? We need patrols who can fight supernatural creatures. The Fae have an edge with their strength and speed.”

  “Are we the only ones you’re asking to risk life and limb?” Névé asked.

  Herne shook his head. “No, we’re also approaching the Shifter Alliance and the Vampire Nation. We hope to form a united front. I know that you aren’t especially fond of shifters or vampires, but this is a worldwide threat. Every single one of us faces the danger, and my father wants us to work together. I ask that you put aside your arguments once again to form a truce. I can’t tell you how much it will strain the Wild Hunt’s resources if we have to settle squabbles between the two of you, and go after those summoned by Typhon’s emissaries.”

  I had the feeling neither Saílle nor Névé cared for his tone, but they weren’t stupid. I hoped they would make the right decision.

  “How much control over the Fae militia do you seek?” Saílle gave me a long look. I couldn’t figure out why, but she was staring intently at me.

  “I echo that question,” Névé added.

  “We would like the ability to call out the militia when needed, and the authority to give them orders.” Herne paused, then added, “We don’t seek to co-opt them for good. But if we are to make a united front against Typhon and his children, then we must work together. I cannot stress enough that we don’t dare approach this haphazardly. Someone has to be in charge of the master plan against Typhon, and in this quarter of the world, I’m the one in charge.”

  Saílle paused. “I must speak to my advisor for a moment. I request a recess.”

  Ginty stood, holding up the scepter. He turned to Névé. “Do you have any objections?”

  Névé shook her head.

  “Herne, do you mind if the Dark Queen takes a recess?”

  Herne shook his head. “That’s fine.”

  “Then I call a fifteen-minute recess. We will convene again when the chime sounds. Bear in mind, that in this room or out of it, until we dismiss the meeting, we are all still bound under the Rules of Parley.” Ginty raised the scepter and a low chime emitted from it. He lowered it, then sat down, stretching out with his hands in his pockets.

  Saílle and her advisors wasted no time in heading toward the door. They slipped out quietly.

  “I wonder what that’s all about,” I said, watching their departure.

  “I have no clue,” Herne said. “But I’m sure we’ll find out, in one way or another.”

  For lack of anything better to do, I turned to stare at Névé. She was sitting impassively, looking like a china statue. She was lovely, her radiance so stunning it made her difficult to look at. Where Saílle was magnetic and mesmerizing, Névé was radiant. Opposites again, and yet they achieved the same effects.

  I glanced over at Viktor, who had pulled out his phone to read. I thought about trying to engage the Light Queen in some chitchat, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well. I finally turned to Herne, who was speaking in low tones with Ginty.

  “How much longer?”

  Herne grinned at me. “Getting bored?”

  “Is it soup yet? Kind of… I’d really like to get out of here so I can get ready for Morgana tonight. I’m nervous.” I smiled, but I knew that my nerves were showing.

  “Well, Saílle has fifteen minutes and it’s only been five since she stepped out. I’m not sure what that’s all about, but I have a feeling we’re going to find out.” He paused, then nodded to the door as the knob turned. “Apparently, she didn’t need fifteen minutes.”

  I followed his gaze. Saílle entered the room again, her face once more impassive and impossible to read. She caught me looking at her and just smiled, coolly, before returning to her seat. Ginty called the parley back into session and we began again.

  “Herne, you had the floor.” The dwarf motioned for Herne to stand.

  Herne had barely made it to his feet before Saílle spoke.

  “You were requesting the assistance of the Fae militia. I’m willing to give you access to my personal militia.” She smiled, saccharine-sweet, at Névé. “I’m sure the Queen of Light will agree, as well.”

  Of course, Névé felt obligated to follow suit in order to keep face. Saílle had played her hand well, and the Queen of Light fell right into it.

  “Navane offers you our faction of the militia as well. When we were facing the Iron Plague and the Tuathan Brotherhood, our courts worked under a truce. I suppose,” Névé said, gritting her teeth, “that we should consider another truce, given Typhon’s approach.”

  It was Saílle’s turn to glare. I had the feeling the Queen of the Dark Fae hadn’t considered that idea to come into play.

  Saílle sighed. “Master McClintlock, would you host a parley for our courts to agree upon conditions for such a truce? And Herne, given you have so much at stake, I assume you’ll grace us with your experience as mediator?” She had a nasty grin on her face and I realized that she had just stuck it to Herne. But it didn’t matter. If we could get the Fae to form a truce for the time being, it would make our job a lot easier.

  Herne seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “Of course. Shall we meet tomorrow? No time like the present.”

  The two queens agreed to another meeting. Ginty looked disgruntled, but decreed that there would be a second Lughnasadh parley the next morning, early.

  Saílle spoke again. “The Court of Dark Fae also wishes to extend its congratulations to Lord Herne and…Lady Ember on your coming nuptials. In fact, I find it quite a coincidence.” Saílle cast her gaze to meet mine.

  I froze, staring at her. She had called me lady? And how did she know about our engagement? What the hell was she up to? I never underestimated the Fae Queens in how far they would go to one-up not only each other, but everyone else.

  “What’s a coincidence?” I asked.

  “Your uncle Sharne is to be married to one of t
he nobility from the Orhanakai band of the Autumn’s Bane peoples. Your father’s people. She will come from Annwn, along with Unkai. I believe you know the chieftain?” She kept her gaze fastened on me.

  I tried not to react but the news boggled my mind. My great-uncle Sharne was the only member of my family who hadn’t turned his back on me. He had actually expressed regret over what my grandfather had tried to do to me. We had talked off and on over the past few months, and were trying to build a relationship. But he was a black sheep in the Dark Court, and a confirmed bachelor. Now, the queen was announcing his marriage?

  “I had no clue. He didn’t mention it to me.”

  She smiled graciously. “Perhaps he had his reasons. Since your uncle will be marrying nobility, even though she is from Annwn I have decided to move him into the Court. He will become one of the minor lords in the Outer Court. This means your father’s family will take its place under the umbrella of nobility, and that includes you.”

  I froze. Herne froze. The entire room seemed to freeze. This was an exceptional move for Saílle, and I wondered what the hell had prompted it.

  “Aren’t you excited? You’ll be a lady in my court!” With a triumphant smile of bared teeth, Saílle quickly turned to her advisor. “You must add Lady Ember to the rolls. As soon as parley is done, send a messenger to make the necessary arrangements and to deliver her the documents that are involved.”

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  I had been anathema all these years and now, suddenly, Saílle was claiming me as part of her court? I glanced over at Névé, who was staring at Saílle like she wanted to kill her. Which she probably did, but thanks to the parley, she couldn’t even try.

  Herne slid his hand to mine, below the table, and squeezed a warning when I started to speak. I shut my mouth and glanced at him.

  “Master McClintlock, may we have a brief recess? I need to confer with my team.” Herne turned to Ginty and the dwarf sighed, but he motioned that we were into another recess.

  Herne practically dragged me out of the room, but Viktor stayed behind. I had a feeling he wanted to see if fireworks were going to erupt between the two queens.

  “What the hell?” I turned to Herne as soon as we were out the door and it was shut behind us. “For years they’ve insisted I shouldn’t exist, that I was a pariah—a tralaeth. And now, Saílle suddenly announces that I’m part of her court? Can she even do that without my permission? And why now? I know Fae governance enough to know that just because one member of your family belongs to the nobility, it doesn’t mean they all do. Even if Sharne’s marriage turns out to be legitimate, that doesn’t automatically mean I become one of Saílle’s subjects.”

  He braced my shoulders. “Calm down. I think I know what’s going on. Saílle either just noticed that rock on your finger, or she heard about our engagement through one of her informants. Either way, seeing your ring today verified it. She’s decided to worm her way into your good graces before Névé has a chance. Because, my dear, you’ll become a Fae goddess when you marry me. That means that she and Névé will answer to you.”

  I stared at him, both panicking and paralyzed. It hadn’t occurred to me what becoming a goddess would mean. But if he was right, then I’d be ruling over the people who both gave me my blood, but had turned their backs on me. All of a sudden, I understood where Saílle was coming from, but that didn’t make the news settle on my stomach any better.

  “Let me get this straight, because my mind is whirling. When we get married and I go through the ritual to elevate me to deityhood, that means I’m a goddess over the Fae? And that the courts of Fae will have to answer to me?”

  “That’s right, love. You’ll not only be a goddess over the Fae, but a goddess of Fae. You’ll rule with Morgana over the Fae who stayed on Earth, as opposed to those in Annwn. And because you’re of mixed blood, this will usher in a whole new era for those born into your circumstances.”

  As his words rang in my ears, my mind was reeling. The implications were huge—and not just for me. Every tralaeth in the world would be able to claim legitimacy if I became a part of the court. And Saílle was obviously jumping on the bandwagon so she could upstage Névé. If I joined her Court, then she could claim that I favored my father’s bloodline.

  Too stunned to say anything, I stood there, shaking my head. I had no idea what to do next. But I knew that, more than ever, I had to talk to Morgana. She would know what I should do. Or, at least, I hoped so.

  Chapter Six

  As we headed back into the conference room, I thought about what Herne had said right before we finished our recess. I had asked him to field Saílle’s offer for me, but he told me in no uncertain terms to do it myself.

  “When you’re my wife and a goddess, you aren’t going to be able to ask others to handle squeamish tasks,” he said. And I knew he was right.

  As we settled back into our seats, Ginty called the parley back to order. He was looking frustrated and irritable, and I didn’t blame him. I couldn’t imagine having his job. I wondered if Ireland—his wife—ended up on the receiving end of a lot of rants. But I also couldn’t imagine Ginty taking out his frustrations on her, either.

  I paused while he opened parley again, then before anybody could say anything, I motioned to him. “I would like the floor, please.”

  He cleared his throat. “Ember has the floor.”

  Nervous—almost shaking—I stood. My knees felt like they were going to collapse under my weight, but I reached down and steadied myself on the table. I could barely meet Saílle’s gaze, but I knew that I had to stand firm on this.

  “Queen Saílle, you do me honor by suggesting that I become a part of your court, given my uncle’s upcoming marriage and advancement within the halls of TirNaNog. However, I must either refuse, or I must also become a part of Navane’s court as well. Given my mixed blood, and given that I am engaged to Herne and will become his wife and join the…” I paused, the words sticking in my throat. “Seeing that I’ll be joining the ranks of Cernunnos and Morgana’s family and become part of the forces that make up Annwn, I cannot choose sides. I can’t give either the Dark or Light court favor over the other.”

  The last few words squeaked out of my mouth. I felt queasy and I wanted to sink under the floor. Essentially, I was asserting a power that I didn’t have yet over two women who would have probably preferred to see me dead rather than set foot in their precious throne rooms.

  The room was so quiet that a whisper would have shattered the silence. Ginty slowly turned to stare at me, then glanced at the two Fae Queens.

  Saílle’s gaze was cool and accusatory, but she said nothing. For once, though, I had caught Névé with her pants down, so to speak. Her jaw dropped as she swiveled in my direction, the look in her eyes validating every fear that flickered through my body.

  “You what?” Névé said, her words precise and slow.

  I cleared my throat and tried to steady my voice. “I must regretfully decline Her Majesty Saílle’s offer to sit on the court of TirNaNog, unless I also sit on the court of Navane. I cannot offer favor to either side.” It occurred to me that sometimes the best thing to do was to keep my mouth shut, but that hadn’t been an option.

  Saílle cleared her throat. “Then the decision is up to Navane. Such a thing has never been done before—”

  Herne cut her off. “Yes, it has. You haven’t forgotten that my mother, Morgana, sits on both of your courts, nobility to both Light and Dark Fae. Every goddess of Fae has had their balancing post with the twin courts and you know that as surely as you know your own name.”

  I caught my breath, thankful that he had intervened.

  Névé glared at Saílle, as if to say, See what you’ve gotten us into? She let out a long breath. “Very well. Navane concedes the necessity of such an unusual request, and given the engagement has already been proposed and accepted, Navane shall follow suit. Ember, you shall be seated on both courts, as nobility. Honorarily, of course, as yo
ur…future mother-in-law does.” She finished, looking like the words had left a sour taste in her mouth.

  “Yes, honorarily,” Saílle said.

  I was walking a tightrope. “I…um…thank you.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Don’t act like we’re offering you a wasps’ nest, girl,” Saílle snapped, frowning. “Though such a thing hasn’t happened for a long time, and in today’s world, this will mean…that others will take their lead from you. Gods only know what the grand city-states in Annwn will think.”

  Névé snorted. “Oh, I can tell you what they’ll think. They’ll have exactly the same opinion they did when Morgana was elevated to goddess. I was a young girl in Older Navane then.”

  “Older Navane?” I asked, deciding that interrupting couldn’t be any more gauche than telling them they were going to have to place a statue of me onto their altar tables.

  “When we speak about the great city-states in Annwn, we use the word ‘older’ to differentiate between the ancient Fae homelands and the ones here.” Névé glanced across the divide. Saílle had a grim smile on her face. “What say you, Queen of the Dark? Times seem to be changing.”

  Saílle laughed, shaking her head. “Times may change, some things will stand forever. We shall discuss a temporary truce tomorrow. Be here bright and early, Herne. Six a.m., and Master Ginty, not a word of complaint out of you. We’ll bring the documents giving you authority over the Fae militia, Master of the Hunt, so all will be as you wish. And Ember,” she added, turning to me, “since you will be the first liaison to belong to both Fae Courts since Morgana, we must discuss a marketing campaign to make your presence palatable to all Fae. I won’t be coy. Had Herne not asked you to marry him, I wouldn’t have invited you into my court. But as I said, times are changing and we must, I suppose, change with them.”

  With that, she stood. Before anyone could speak, she motioned to Ginty. “Conclude the parley, old man. I am weary of this discussion.”