The Darkling Lord: Court of the Banished book 1 (Annwyn Series 4) (3 page)

T
hat was almost too easy
. Darah didn’t trust easy. She generally didn’t trust anything at all. A life at Court had trained her well in that regard. It had also taught her how to gamble and act like she was having fun.

Now that Henry had invited her to stay, she was going to make use of the time she was here. She ate a little of the mortal food—her stomach was used to it after several weeks of eating it—and moved around the tables, betting with the colored chips they were using instead of money. But she was careful not to win too much, and not attract too much attention.

The whole time she was trying to work out what information Henry wanted and why. Along with why the Greys treated him like their Lord. What had he promised them? Making deals with the banished was a crime…but she still needed a verbal admission, if not concrete proof. Catching him in a lie was all that Felan needed to bring Annwyn against the darkling and break up the gathering of Greys.

While she had only seen three chase after the police, there were others here. She could sense them. But she didn’t want to acknowledge them, much less talk to them.

A few mortal men favored her with a smile, but none actually said anything to her. Perhaps seeing her with Henry had put them off, or perhaps they’d figured she’d shoot them down as quick as they opened their mouths. She wasn’t here to toy with humans or get herself with child, which was the main reason fairy women dabbled with mortal men. Maybe another time, when her place at Court was more secure…when the Court was open again. Every fairy was waiting for the Queen to give birth and bring summer to Annwyn.

The Queen was taking her time. Because fairy time was slower than mortal time, the longer she spent in Annwyn, the longer her pregnancy would last and the longer Court would be closed. Felan had claimed it was to give fairies a chance to rediscover their hearts.

The notion was ridiculous. Who would willingly offer another their heart?

She’d married for power, like all fairies, and she was sure her husband had started sleeping with the old Queen for exactly the same reason. It wasn’t slighted love that had made her seek revenge. Shea had promised her they’d rise together, and they had for a time. Then he’d moved on without her and broken the deal they’d made in private. He’d gotten what oath breakers deserved; banishment and death.

Love was a dangerous thing for a fairy. She’d seen people at Court torn down, their love interest used as a pawn. Even the once great Verden, ex-Lord of the Hunt, had fallen when his lover was threatened.

She’d get back the power Shea had thrown away and be on the Council in her own right. Even thinking his name brought contempt, when once it had meant ambition and cunning. Traits to be admired in a fairy man.

Her gaze slid to Henry. Was he ambitious and cunning like a fairy man? It was too early to tell. Despite his fairy good looks, he could be inflicted with a mortal’s delicate heart as well as a borrowed soul.

Gradually people began to leave the casino.

Henry was by the front door seeing everyone off. She moved closer to watch, as it was no simple goodbye. He was handing every person a roll of paper. Money, she realized. The same as what Felan had given her. Some people gladly took the notes, others refused at first but Henry laughed and said they had played well and that he was glad to see the casino in use despite the Mayor’s wishes. That seemed to be enough to tip most people over the edge and they accepted the money. No one asked where it had come from.

Where had it come from? Was it his? If it was, what did he hope to gain in throwing it away? Was handing out money classified as interference in mortal lives, according to Annwyn?

Greys weren’t supposed to interfere, and yet he wasn’t technically a Grey. One of his parents had been though. That was how darklings were created. A changeling was a fairy born in the mortal word and thus afflicted with a soul. A darkling was much more complex, and they rarely survived past their first year because no soul could live past a year and a day in their body.

She watched Henry, carefully. She wasn’t sure this interference could be called harmful. Generally benign interference was ignored. The whole time the banished fairies that could have run amok had behaved. No one here was giving Annwyn a bad name.

On the surface there was nothing to report back to Felan. That was enough to make her want to stick around. Nothing was simple and obvious when it came to fairies, or darklings in this case. There was a lot Henry was hiding.

Henry caught her watching and smiled, the gesture full of warmth and razors. She was familiar with those smiles. He didn’t trust her. He shouldn’t, and yet she wanted him to.
Needed him to
.

The only interest she had in Henry was working out what he was up to. And why he was gathering a small army of Greys. That alone made her twitchy. Greys in bigger groups than four made Annwyn curious. It was no wonder Felan had wanted someone on the inside. Grudgingly, she admitted that Felan was right to choose her—her cover story wasn’t a lie. She could very easily hate him for letting her be a shadow servant when he should’ve protected her. After all, she had stolen the Window for him…and conveniently sealed her husband’s fate. It had almost been worth the punishment.

Not that she ever planned on having that conversation with Henry.

The endless amount of money didn’t run out, and when the last person was gone, he closed the doors and locked them. Someone knew the signal and most of the lights and all of the games shut down. The room was silent, except for the footsteps of the Greys drawing closer as they eased out of the shadows like a hundred different nightmares.

She was in enemy territory. This was no courtly game without real danger. Her heart skipped a beat and danced a little faster.

Darah stepped back and Henry was right behind her. She hadn’t heard him move.

Even at Court when Queen Eyra had been at her worst, Darah had never felt quite so precariously balanced, as if any wrong word, or look, could bring her downfall. A Court fairy would never be accepted here…but would they go so far as to hurt her?

She wasn’t sure.

Henry’s hand touched her hip and she tried not to jump. “Did you enjoy our little party?”

Darah laughed—centuries of practice made sure that it didn’t come out like a nervous titter. “That was little? What do you plan to do for a real celebration?”

“I don’t know yet.” He stepped away from her. “This is Darah, who is currently seconded to the mortal world.”`

A few of the Greys laughed. “Is that what they are calling it now?”

“Must be exiled, because she sure isn’t banished. I can smell Annwyn from here,” someone muttered.

“What did you do to piss off the new King?” a voice from the shadows said.

“Is he restoring banished yet?”

The voices came at her from all around the room. She wasn’t sure who was speaking. The tall thin man? The ugly short thing—that was no doubt quite powerful if it had given up looks and stature to keep power. Then there were the tiny ones, Greys who could have sat on the palm of her hand, so close to fading away to nothing. She’d never seen so many in one place. Over a dozen, probably closer to two.

She tamped down her growing fear of being trapped with all these Greys, keeping her features carefully schooled the way she always had. The Greys were more animated than most fairies, as if being in the mortal world had freed them from the rigid constraints of Court behavior.

Perhaps with death trailing them, drawing ever closer, they had nothing left to fear. She couldn’t imagine living like that. She also couldn’t imagine living surrounded by the ugliness of the mortal world. All the banished had greying, dull skin, as if life was being leeched away. It was a stark reminder that fairies did eventually die, even if they appeared immortal.

“Well, Darah? They are eager for news from Annwyn. Entertain us as we have entertained you tonight.” He smiled and signaled to a gaunt woman whose cheek and collarbones threatened to press through her skin with every movement. Yet she moved with grace and purpose and Darah was sure this woman was desperate to keep what looks she had left, even if that meant she’d waste away to nothing in the process.

The woman brought a bottle of wine and glasses and gave them to Henry. He poured one for Darah. The liquid was dark, darker than berry wine, but this was no fairy brew designed for taste and color. This was mortal wine, designed for kick. And it was alcoholic. She hesitated. Henry clinked his glass against hers and then took a sip.

“You won’t be bound here by drinking this wine.” He gave her a sly smile as if he knew all about Annwyn and the danger it presented to mortals. Did he realize the dangers the mortal world held for fairies? Probably not.

If she drank this she could get drunk, something she had done many, many decades ago on a visit to the mortal world…a masked ball if she remembered rightly, in a horrid city with canals instead of roads. She suppressed a shudder at the memory of all that water. She had no intention of getting drunk tonight and letting her guard down, yet she couldn’t be a bad guest so she took a sip and smiled. It was quite sharp and heavy, nothing like what they called wine in Annwyn.

In that moment she missed home so much it made her heart ache and her stomach cramp. She hadn’t been part of it for so long. As a shadow servant she’d been able to see and hear, but not speak and interact, only obey. Could she even remember what Annwyn smelled like in summer, when leaves crowned the castle and vines trailed flowers from the ceiling?

She
would
see it again.

“Annwyn is in spring.” She smiled even though she didn’t want to. Spring was a good thing. The long spring wasn’t. “However, it seems that the new King and Queen want to keep the place in limbo for as long as possible.” She managed to inject just the right amount of disgust into her voice—which wasn’t hard. Tradition said that the Queen spent time in the mortal world so the baby grew faster and summer arrived sooner. Summer always arrived with the baby.

That caused a murmur. “What does that mean?”

She shrugged. That the King and Queen were being selfish, thinking of themselves and not Annwyn? But that didn’t fit with Felan’s words and his desire for a kinder rule. Perhaps he was just establishing himself and his Queen and making it clear that things would be different. But expressing sympathy for him here wouldn’t fit with who she as supposed to be. “He’s making a point, I guess, that he’s going to do things his way.”

“Not that different if he’s still exiling people,” someone muttered.

Darah didn’t want to agree, as she wasn’t exiled. “He hasn’t banished anyone.” She was almost sure of that.

“Hasn’t pardoned anyone either though, has he?” Henry raised one dark eyebrow as he sipped his wine.

“No.” Felan wasn’t offering the banished any hope.

That soured the mood among the Greys. The tension rose, as did the muttering, and a few walked away in disgust. That was interesting. She’d thought they’d given up hope and were living it up in the mortal world, but maybe not. Maybe they still longed to go home.

She didn’t want to have sympathy for the Greys. They were banished, criminals…and she had spent a year and a day as a shadow servant for theft. It was only because she’d stolen for the winning side that she wasn’t banished. If Sulia had ended up on the throne, she would’ve been banished the moment she’d been freed from being a shadow. She’d have been like these fairies. Grey and helpless and waiting to die.

She took another sip of wine. This time it didn’t seem quiet as rough. “There is one big change which you may not know: he’s closed the Court except for festivals.”

The gaunt elegant woman frowned. It was a gruesome sight to watch such paper thin skin move so much. “Why would he do that? Court is the center of life.”

“He wants fairies to mingle with mortals and repair the damage they helped cause.”

“Well, that explains why I have heard reports of more fairies around the place. Most seem to be avoiding Detroit though.” The woman nodded as though thinking.

“Probably because of all the Greys.” A smart fairy would stay well clear and avoid getting caught up in any trouble brewing. She obviously wasn’t as smart as she’d thought, as she’d willingly walked right into the middle as a spy. If they knew that, they’d tear her down.

“Good. I don’t want them here. They can mess with any other city but Detroit is mine.” Henry spoke with conviction and got a little cheer from the gathered Greys.

“A broken down city full of banished fairies…” She gave him a small smile. “A ghost town?” It wasn’t unique. Humans left a town and the banished claimed it as theirs until it all fell apart. Haunted houses usually just had a Grey in their history, the rumor living on long after the Grey had faded.

She may not have spent much time in the mortal world recently but some things never changed. The trouble with Greys claiming a town was that too many tended to attract attention, and then the trouble started.

“No, not a ghost town, Darah. I want to bring Detroit back to life.”

She blinked, and let the surprise show in her face—something she didn’t do very often—and the muscles that usually kept her face expressionless tugged at the strangeness. Weren’t the banished only interested in themselves and scraping by on whatever they could? However Henry wasn’t banished, and he was mortal for all intents and purposes. “And how do you plan to do that?”

“I’m not sure yet, but tonight I learned a lot more about the people and what they want and need.” He spoke as though he was already trying to think of ways to exploit that information.

“It’s an industrial city.” She’d taken the time to learn a little before she came here. She’d also learned how to read and write while working for Felan. Cars were big here. Or had been. Even before the battle for the throne, the industry had been dying and people had been leaving the city. After the plagues, there were even fewer left, and from the looks of tonight’s party those who remained seemed fairly desperate. Hollow. As if they were Greys with no hope of going home.