-
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
He took his gun out of its holster and handed it to Frost. "It's a good gun,"
he said.
Frost actually smiled.
Rhys said, "And hard to come by in faerie."
Doyle nodded.
I had a moment to wonder if Doyle was up to this demonstration, but then he
strode to the farthest edge of the dais, took a running start, and launched
himself out into the air. He was obscured for a moment by a black mist that
folded in upon itself, and he was flying out over the court with huge
feathered wings, as black as his skin.
There were gasps and sounds of pleasure, as if some of the court were enjoying
the show. The black eagle circled once, then came to the center of the room
and began to flap its way to the floor, but before those great talons landed,
the wings seemed to dissolve into mist, and it was great black hooves that
struck the stones and pranced a few steps among the tables. The great black
stallion walked to
Maelgwn's table and looked at the wolf lord with Doyle's dark eyes. Either the
mist rose up again, or the horse became the black mist, and it dissolved into
the black mastiff that I had seen before. The huge dog panted at Maelgwn. Even
sitting, the dog was tall enough to see over the table and meet Maelgwn's
gaze.
The wolf lord gave a motion somewhere between a nod and a bow. It seemed to
satisfy the dog, because it charged toward the dais. The great paws hit the
steps and bounded up to sit next to me. The dog sat beside the arm of my
throne, and I reached out to stroke that soft fur without thinking about it.
The mist rose up, and it felt as cool as it smelled, like breathing in rain
deep in the forest. My hand tingled with magic as Doyle's body grew and
shifted. There was no sliding of bones and flesh as there had been in
California. Even with my hand lost in the black mist, it felt light and
effervescent, like bubbles or electricity against my skin. Doyle was just
kneeling beside my throne in human form, nude, with his long black hair lying
in a dark pool at his feet.
My hand was still on his face, stroking his human cheek as I'd been stroking
the dog's seconds before.
I wanted to compliment him, but I didn't dare let the court know that I'd
never seen such an effortless performance.
"Most impressive," Maelgwn said, and there was nothing but seriousness left in
his voice. "I don't remember you being a bird."
"I was not," Doyle said.
"So you have gained what was lost, and added to your powers besides."
Doyle nodded, my hand still playing in the thick fall of his hair.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Page 193
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"How has this miracle come to pass?" Maelgwn asked.
"A kiss," Doyle said.
"A kiss," Maelgwn repeated. "What does that mean?"
"You know a kiss," Rhys said from behind me, "you just pucker up your lips . .
."
"I know what a kiss is," Maelgwn interrupted. "What I don't know is how a kiss
has brought about this change in the Darkness."
"Tell him whose kiss brought you back into your powers," Andais said.
"Princess Meredith's kiss," Doyle said, still kneeling by my chair, still with
my hand playing in the thick warmth of his hair, tickling along the back of
his neck.
"Lies." This from Miniver; she was head of her own house. She was tall and
blond and could have passed for Seelie Court, because once she had been. She
had come to the Unseelie and fought her way to a position of power, until the
tall commanding beauty was the head of her own house in the dark court.
That she had preferred to rule in the Unseelie Court, rather than accept exile
to the human world, meant that the Seelie Court would never accept her back.
Her exile from the shining throng would be eternal.
They sometimes took back those who had wandered among the humans, but once you
went to the dark court, you were considered unclean.
She stood in front of her throne, a shining thing with her yellow braids
sliding over a dress of shimmering gold cloth. A golden circlet graced her
brow, over the perfect arch of dark eyebrows and the tri-blue of her eyes. She
had never adopted the darker colors favored by Andais and her court. Miniver
dressed as if she expected to walk into a different court.
"Did you say something, Miniver?" Andais said, and by merely leaving off any
title she had insulted the golden figure. It was a warning. A warning to sit
down and shut up.
"I said, and I say again, that it is a lie. No mortal could bring anyone into
his power."
"She is a princess of the sidhe, and that makes her a little more than a mere
mortal," Andais said.
Miniver shook her head, sending those heavy yellow braids sliding along the
gold of her dress. "She is mortal, and you should have drowned her when she
was six, as you tried to. It was weakness for your brother that stopped your
hand."
She spoke as if I could not hear her, as if I were not sitting there alive in
the same room with her now.
"My brother, Essus, once told me that Meredith would make a better queen than
my own son, Cel, would make a king. I did not believe it then."
"At least Cel is not mortal," Miniver said.
"But Cel has not brought back a single drop of the power we have lost. Nor
have I," Andais said, and there was no teasing to her now. There was no
showmanship.
"And you would have us believe that this half-breed mortal has done what pure
sidhe blood has not?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Miniver pointed at me in what I thought was an overly dramatic gesture, but it
did show the sleeve of her dress to perfection, flashing the slits of cloth
open so that the blue cloth of the underdress showed through. Sometimes if
you've lived nearly forever, you think overly long about how things appear.
"This abomination cannot be allowed on the throne, Queen Andais."
I thought abomination was a little harsh, but I said nothing, for in a way it
wasn't me she'd challenged, it was the queen.
"I say who will and who will not sit on the throne of this court, Miniver."
"Your obsession with a hereditary monarchy of your own bloodline will be the
death of us all. We have all seen what happens on the dueling ground when one
of us shares blood with that thing. They become mortal through the disease
Page 194
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
that her blood carries."
"Mortality is not a disease," Andais said, quietly.
"But it kills like one." Miniver looked out over the court, and there were a
lot of faces turned to her.
Many showed by either silence or nodding that they agreed with at least this [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- zambezia2013.opx.pl