Masdann says, “Later, the afternoon I watched your dreams of Cruce is the day I revealed myself to Barrons.”

  Barrons says, “You were so worried about your father, I didn’t want to bring up that Cruce was still alive, and there was no way to tell you about Masdann without doing so. Then Lyryka revealed his existence, but from that moment on—”

  I say wearily, “We were so busy chasing one problem after the next, there was never a good time.”

  Barrons’s gaze is dark and filled with shadows, and I see now how deeply worried he’s been about me. “You were exhausted and grieving your father, and I didn’t want to add to it. Masdann didn’t believe Cruce would take you for some time. We hoped to eliminate him before he did. But between the Light Court’s incessant machinations, Dani missing, your father missing, Sean and Rae being taken—”

  “—we were too busy trying to put out whatever fire was directly in front of us,” I finish bitterly. Both the Light and Shadow Courts had kept us hopping, distracted by one crisis after the next, starting the moment I left the chamber.

  He inclines his head in agreement.

  Masdann says, “I didn’t drive you into the web. Had I known Cruce was planning to take you, I would not have encouraged you to leave Chester’s. I believed you would benefit from walking the streets of the city you love.”

  “The chamber Cruce held you in mutes power,” Barrons says. “I couldn’t communicate with you via our bond. Masdann told me what he said to you about getting tattoo implements for the Hunters, which was based on old information. Cruce didn’t know we’d discovered such marks were unnecessary. I said what I did when I entered the chamber, hoping to tip you off that it was me.”

  It had worked, sort of. Then he’d flashed crimson fire in his dark gaze, and I’d been afraid to hope. Yet I had hoped, in spite of myself, what I was thinking was true.

  “Look deeply at me, my queen,” Masdann says. “I’m an Unseelie prince. There are significant differences between Barrons and me.”

  “Sidhe-seers can’t penetrate the glamour of the new Unseelie Cruce created,” I tell him.

  Masdann says, “While Cruce did make us undetectable to your Order, you hold a deeper, much more powerful magic. Look with your queen’s eyes, using the True Magic.”

  “Cruce neutralized my True Magic somehow,” I tell him.

  Masdann says, “The chamber did that to you, and only while you were within it.”

  More cleverness on Cruce’s part. He’d counted on me trying to access my magic in the bedroom, wagering I’d not try again while touring his kingdom.

  “Do as Masdann says,” Barrons says. “If at any time you’d tried to penetrate Masdann’s glamour, it would have worked. But you believed he was me, so you had no reason to try.”

  If it’s true that the queen can see through the new Shadow Court’s glamour, thank God. I gaze at Masdann, drifting inward, seeking the softly burning power of the True Magic, pleased to find it accessible again. Show me what is true, I command.

  I smile faintly.

  So that’s what Masdann looks like.

  The prince of dreams is identical to Barrons, with the same darkly chiseled face, height, and powerful musculature, midnight eyes and smoldering carnality. But great, black wings adorn Masdann’s shoulders, sweeping down at his sides, and tattoos rush like brilliant clouds beneath his skin. He’s darker than Barrons with an ebony torque around his neck. He’s clearly Fae. Clearly an Unseelie prince.

  Masdann says, “You can always tell us apart; you can discern the true forms of all the Shadow Court Fae. I’ve no doubt you’ll be scrutinizing Barrons with the queen’s power every time you see him for quite some time, and for that, I apologize. I will not impersonate him again. And in time, yet more differences will appear between us. At this moment, Jericho Barrons and I are the most alike we’ll ever be. I hold the essence of him, but not the beast. I’ve suffered no curse. I’ve not lived his life. We are more different than you think. I’ve a mere four years of living, and my future will lead me in different directions. My experiences will shape me into who I become. Barrons and I will never again be as alike as we are in this moment.”

  I hear truth in his words. Masdann is a newly born version of Barrons, without any of his past. He looks like Barrons and, at the core, shares his essential makeup, but their paths will diverge greatly from here.

  “You hold a dangerous power.” He could cause enormous damage to an enormous number of people.

  “I have neither the desire nor intention of weaving others’ dreams. I have more than enough of my own. The Dreaming fascinates me. All possibles exist there. I’ve pledged my loyalty to you, as both queen and MacKayla Lane. It’s programmed into my essence. I could never betray you. It’s not possible. There, Barrons and I will never differ. And should you ever have need of me, I will be there.”

  “Why did you betray Cruce?”

  “There is no betraying one such as he,” Masdann replies. “There is only putting a rabid dog down. He was the old king all over again, worse. He grew more depraved and greedy with each passing day. I saw what was coming during my sojourns in the Dreaming, the many possible futures, none of them good for anyone but Cruce, and vowed to put a stop to it. I saw what he would do to this world and countless others. I was unable to kill him as I don’t possess Barrons’s power. I’m not the beast and can never be. That is yet another way you can tell the difference between us. I could only try to glamour myself as his beast, glamour his crimson eyes, and you would see past my glamour. I knew we’d have to switch places to take Cruce down.”

  I look at Barrons, frowning. “I would have thought you’d despise having, for lack of a better word, a clone.”

  Masdann laughs. “He nearly killed me when he saw me for the first time.”

  Barrons murmurs, “Then I realized what a foolish thing Cruce had done, how easily Masdann might be used against him, and that Masdann sought me for precisely that reason.”

  Masdann snorts. “You saw too much of yourself in me to dislike me.”

  To me, he says, “I’ll keep my distance, my queen, if that makes you more comfortable.”

  I smile faintly. Once I finish wrapping my brain around this, I can’t say I’d mind having two Barronses around sometimes, with different strengths to offer. It sounds to me as if Masdann has his own unique gift of premonition, seeing all possibles in the Dreaming, another tool we might use to protect our world. “Is there truly an Unseelie elixir that bestows immortality without costing emotion and soul?”

  Masdann inclines his head, wings lifting, rustling as he resettles them. “There is. I will bring it to you, and return the other items Cruce bid me thieve from Faery. But I would ask something of you, and hope you will hear me out. I’ve been pondering the future of the Fae and have ideas I would share.”

  Sighing, I kick out a chair and drop into it.

  One day, I’ll sleep. Right now, I have a job to do.

  I’m MacKayla Lane, High Queen of the Fae.

  And I’m open to discussion, counsel, all points of view. We’ve a world of unique beings, I still have no idea how to sing the walls back up, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should.

  Perhaps the split courts, the divide between the realms of Mortal and Fae, the many walls, some fashioned of substance, others of fear, were part of the problem.

  To Masdann, I say, “I’m listening.”

  53

  I’ll stop the world and melt with you

  MAC

  Three days later, I’m sitting with Barrons in the Jimmy Durante Club, devouring my second platter of Guinness-battered fish-and-chips as the chanteuse croons about a world that will always welcome lovers as time goes by, bracing myself for my father’s death and my work with the Light Court, which I will commence once he passes.

  I’m not willing to go to Faery right now. I intend to be holding Daddy’s hand when he closes his eyes for the last time.

  Once he’s no longer with us (I can’t think the word “dies,” I simply can’t) I’ll sift to Faery with hundreds of sidhe-seers. After meeting with Ixcythe, Azar, and Severina to tell them what I’m going to do, I’ll unfreeze the Winter Court subjects, one by one. The sidhe-seers will give them a cup from the true Cauldron of Forgetting, which Cruce stole and substituted with a useless replica, followed by a drop of the Unseelie Elixir of Life; then help the newly reborn Fae adjust to the reality of being young, immortal, without baggage, possessing both emotion and a soul, assuming they have one in there somewhere. Then, after freeing the prisoners in Ixcythe’s labyrinth, restoring the immortals, and returning the humans to Earth, I’ll move to the courts of Spring, Autumn, and Summer and do the same.

  The Fae will be a new species; the Tuatha De Danann, as I suspect they once were long ago, although back then they were merely extremely long-lived, not immortal.

  I’ll never tell the newborn Tuatha De Danann that the Cauldron exists and will destroy it. From this moment forward, there will be no erasing of the past. Each memory the Fae make they must bear and carry forward. It’s the memories of our failures, our worst moments and darkest hours that weigh on us and make us try harder, do better.

  I suspect Ixcythe, Azar, and Severina will balk. They’ll want to keep their memories, because they’re power-hungry and damaged, and they’ll see it as a way to be more cunning and powerful than their subjects, possessing knowledge others lack.

  They will drink from the Cauldron of Forgetting if I must chain them to a beam and force it down their throats. Everyone is starting over, no exceptions.

  Once the Light Court is restored and newborn, Masdann will bring the Shadow Court to Faery. He says the Unseelie are eager to meet their light brethren. They’re only four years old, quite young themselves. They’ll meet and mingle and, hopefully, in time, become a tribe.

  Despite my grief, and the grief that is yet to come when my father…is no longer here…I’m looking forward to helping the Fae find their way.

  There will soon be eight kingdoms in Faery, where both courts will reside. Dublin of Eternal Night will be used as a vacation spot of sorts—it’s too beautiful to destroy, and it’s the Unseelies’ home—but no one will ever permanently live there again. I want the Unseelie prison unmade, once we make sure no living being remains trapped within.

  Christian sifts in and jars me from my reverie. “I heard you’re restoring the Fae. How do you plan to govern them?”

  I blink at the woman standing next to him and use my True Magic to determine if what I’m seeing is glamour.

  It’s not.

  “Lyryka, is that you?” I exclaim.

  She nods, smiling.

  Half and half, so that’s why Cruce hid her away. She’s breathtakingly lovely, the finest of both courts. “I hope you’re planning to stay,” I tell her as I open my arms to draw her into a hug.

  She’s glowing when she steps back. “For a time, perhaps,” she allows. Then she curtsies slightly and adds, “My queen.” The curtseying and bowing, the my queens make me uncomfortable but, for now, I suspect the formalities are necessary, not for me, but my subjects. Those changes I make I’ll implement slowly.

  “A long time, perhaps,” Christian growls.

  His arm is around her waist, and it’s obvious they’re lovers. Chemistry sizzles between them. Death and the librarian, I think, amused. But seriously, she’s perfect for him, light to his darkness, warmth and bubbling joy to his reserve and seriousness.

  He’s changed. Strong, centered, self-assured, he’s a powerful prince in his prime. When he looks at Barrons, he inclines his head in greeting, the way Barrons does. Barrons cuts him a look of irritation but inclines his head back. “Not my tribe, Highlander,” he growls.

  Christian laughs then his eyes narrow as he stares behind me, eyes narrowing and darkening. “Och, that fuck did not. Christ, he’s going to be even more insufferable now.”

  I turn to see who Christian is talking about and instantly light up with joy.

  “Dani!”

  “Mac!”

  Dani slips into freeze-frames then she’s next to me. And we’re hugging, and I’m so happy to see her, I almost can’t stand it. “God, we have so much to talk about,” I tell her, smiling, squeezing her hand.

  “I’m so sorry about your dad,” Dani says quietly. “I know how much he means to you.”

  And her gaze promises me when I lose him, she’ll be right next to me, sitting at my bedside while I weep, dragging me out and into the world again, when it’s time. The same way we took turns doing after she lost Dancer.

  Then Ryodan is standing next to Dani, and I’m so flabbergasted by what I sense, I’m speechless. That’s what Christian meant. Insufferable, indeed. But that’s Ryodan, king in every century.

  Stunned, I say to Barrons, “The king’s power chose. And it’s not you. But the mural—”

  “—was choice,” Barrons reminds. “I made a different one. It was Christian who gave us the idea. When he transformed fully into Death, the king’s power came to him and he rejected it. He suspected whoever wanted it most strongly would get it. I wanted it. If you were to be queen, I would be king. But the king’s power had always been watching four contenders, not three. It was hovering around Ryodan for a long time, too.”

  “I had powerful motivation to be chosen,” Ryodan says. “As king, I can travel the stars with Dani. We’ll never be separated by the limitations of our forms. When Barrons and I went into the Unseelie prison, we spent the night in the old king’s castle, working every dark spell we knew, kicking up a storm of power, to draw the king to us.”

  “When the king came, I bowed out,” Barrons says. “Leaving only two contenders: Ryodan or Cruce.”

  “The next day, after Barrons left to find you, the king’s power chose me,” Ryodan says.

  Dani says, “Ryodan came to the arena where the Hunters were holding us, to redeem the king’s boon and free us.”

  “But they wouldn’t accept it because Dani had already saved herself,” Ryodan says, with pride.

  “Okay, folks, I know I’ve missed a lot. Bring me up to speed, baby. What’s going on?”

  I freeze.

  That was not my father’s voice behind me. It’s impossible. He’s two levels above me, dying.

  My gaze flies to Barrons because I can’t turn. I can’t face confronting that I’m hallucinating, hearing things.

  Barrons murmurs via our bond, I have no idea how, but your father is standing behind you with your mother, looking healthy and strong, although his left arm is in a sling and his hands are not fully healed. Kat, Sean, and Rae are with them. Breathe, Mac. It may be the child. I sense something unusual about her.

  I turn.

  “Daddy,” I breathe faintly, feeling as if I might slump to the floor from shock and relief. “But how?” I glance at Rae, who’s standing between Kat and Sean, holding their hands. Barrons is rarely wrong. “Did you do this?”

  She nods, beaming. “I bring greetings from the Spyrssidhe, great queen. They told me your father was poisoned by a magic potion, and I make bad magic things go away.”

  “Rae’s gift is neutralizing dark magic,” Kat says quietly.

  “She healed me, too,” Sean says. “I have no idea when or how, but Cruce bound my power, preventing me from fully completing the transformation to Unseelie prince. Rae sensed the dark magic he’d worked the moment we met and neutralized his spell. She insisted we bring her here today so she might remove the toxin from your father’s heart.”

  Rae frowns up at me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t heal him all the way, great queen.” She wrinkles her nose. “But he’s very badly broken.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask worriedly

  Mom laughs softly. “It’s nothing. Rae can feel Jack’s arthritis and the pain that lingers in his arms and hands.”

  “He hurts still,” Rae frets.

  Dad says to Rae, “Baby, nothing hurts me anymore, thanks to you.”

  He offers me a one-armed hug, and I finally manage to move. I rush to him and am swallowed in half a great bear hug I thought I’d never get to feel again. I press kisses to his cheek, free an arm, tug my mother into our group embrace.

  When finally I extricate myself, I drop to my knees and hug Rae. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” she says swiftly. “Restore the Spyrssidhe’s privileges at court. They’re ever so sad to be banished. They went into hiding ’cause the other fairies went mad. They think you can fix it all and make everything happy again.”

  I vow, “From this day forward, the Spyrssidhe are no longer banished and hold full rights as Fae. And I will make things happy again. I promise.”

  “Which brings me back to my original question,” Christian says, “How do you plan to govern them?”

  I rise and glance around at our small, powerful group. “We all have parts to play. You, Ryodan, Barrons and the Nine, the sidhe-seers, Sean, Inspector Jayne—wait, has anyone seen Inspector Jayne?”

  “He went into hiding to protect his family,” Ryodan tells me.

  “Will someone track him down and tell him to come back?” I ask.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Christian tells me.

  “Christian, I keep forgetting. Do you think Chloe might consider taking the Unseelie Elixir of Life, given…well, you know, Dageus?” I ask.

  Tiger-gold eyes flare lucent as he growls, “I think that’ll bloody well be a resounding yes.”

  Ten minutes later, we’ve pushed together tables, and I’m having lunch with Barrons, my parents, Dani and Ryodan, Christian and Lyryka, Sean, Kat, the tiny wonder that is Rae, who gave me my father back, plus a Hel-Cat (who keeps snagging food from everyone’s plate) raising flawlessly stacked Guinnesses to toast what will undoubtedly be a far from perfect future.