“It is.” Seth closed his eyes, imagining the fury that would have been unleashed in the mortal world if Devlin hadn’t closed the gates to Faerie. Faery regents in mourning really shouldn’t be allowed loose. He sighed. It wasn’t his mother who was running amok this time, though. Instead, it was the grieving, infuriated, sleep-deprived, volatile, no-longer-balanced Dark King.
Seth weighed the benefits of telling Niall that the closing of Faerie had unbalanced him. He had seen the madness lurking in Niall’s eyes; he had watched dark fey cringe as they approached their king with battered bodies. Now that the Shadow Court balanced the High Court, Niall was left untethered. Unless I can figure out a way to help him. Unlike with Sorcha’s recent spate of instability, Seth couldn’t see a solution to Niall’s.
“You still there?” Elaina called.
“I am.” Seth squatted in front of the door, examining the bars that kept him caged. They were woven of something no other faery could weaken. If it had been sunlight, Donia could negate it; if it were ice, Aislinn or Keenan could remove it. If Seth were in Faerie, Sorcha could undo it with a thought. He was in the mortal world, though, and trapped by bands of darkness that were the material of a regent without an opposing court in this world.
And Faerie is sealed.
The same fact that comforted Seth also removed hope of any rescue.
This is on me to sort out.
There was only one faery of the High Court in the mortal world, and the High Queen had only one heir. Of course, that didn’t provide any grand insight on how one became the balance to a grief-mad, tether-free king.
Maybe there is a strong solitary who can balance him.
Once they got past the grief of losing Irial, Niall and the other regents could talk about it. Seth might not know who could balance the Dark King, but assuming Niall released him, Seth would try to find that answer—even if it meant going to Keenan for help.
For now, Seth tried to sift through the ever-changing threads of possible futures, hoping for some clue that would help him reach Niall. Not all of those threads revealed things Seth wanted to see; some made his chest constrict in fear; and none of them offered any more clarity into the immediate future.
He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed as he sorted through future possibilities, but eventually a thistle-faery approached the cell.
“Come.” The faery opened the door to the cell and grabbed Seth’s arm. The thistles that covered her skin pierced him.
“You don’t need to hold on to me: I’m not going to run,” Seth said. “You have my word. I will walk beside or in front of or behind you to where your king wants you to take me.”
The faery reached out with her other thistle-covered hand and grabbed his shoulder. “I follow my king’s precise orders.”
“Right,” Seth said.
As he was escorted from the
cell and through the hall, Seth tried to ignore the stinging of the thistles. Body piercing was perfectly fine—and sometimes pleasurable—but the sensation of dozens of tiny cuts was far from appealing. Later, if there was a later, he and Niall would have work to do in order for their friendship to stand a chance of recovering from the injuries they’d both inflicted.
Before Seth had become a faery, he hadn’t truly understood the weight of the decisions the fey made. Now, he was facing the possibility of an eternity of seeing the threads of those around him. Interfering with the future could change the future. At what point is that my right? At what point is it wrong to act? To not-act? He didn’t know if he’d have been able to make the same decisions if the faery who had fallen to Bananach’s poison that day had been someone else. If it had been Niall, could Seth have let him die to save Faerie? What if it had been Aislinn? Those were choices he was glad he hadn’t had to make.
“Up.” The thistle-faery released Seth’s arm, but immediately pressed the flat of her hand to his back and shoved him forward.
She took every opportunity to inflict stinging pain on Seth as she conducted him from Niall’s house, through the streets, and into the warehouse where the Dark King currently held his court.
The same Dark Court faeries who’d trained him to fight now watched Seth as he was shoved into what looked like an enormous metal birdcage. It was tall enough that he could stand and wide enough to walk several paces. Many faeries in the court could reach through the bars to injure him if they so desired, but it provided just enough room for him to try to dodge them. Got to make it sporting. In the moment, Seth clearly saw the side of the Dark Court that Niall had once said he wanted to keep hidden from Seth. And here I am.
Niall sat on his throne, silently watching as the cage—with Seth in it—was raised to the ceiling. He remained still and silent until the denizens of the Dark Court began to shift nervously. All the while he stared at Seth.
Seth sat in the middle of the cage and stared back at the Dark King.
As if he were a bird, he’d been provided with a bowl of water, a bowl of dry cereal, and a pile of newspapers in the corner. The only concession to civility was the bucket beside the newspapers. Seth couldn’t decide if the cleaner but very public cage was better or worse than the too-small cell. All he did know was that both were preferable to the cell with the metal spikes in place of a floor.
When their king finally looked away from Seth, he seemed surprised by his faeries’ presence. He frowned and said, “Depart. All of you.”
Niall watched as all too eagerly they fled. His rage and grief had made him capable of cruelty they hadn’t expected. What he hoped to do now was a step beyond grief. He was willing to bargain for things that he shouldn’t, but he felt as if his mind was only barely in order. Even before Irial died, Niall had stopped feeling anywhere near sane. He’d heard of humans “snapping,” and that was as close to an explanation as he could get. In one sudden moment, he’d felt like the parts of himself that weren’t already grieving, worrying, or raging were all swept away. Something inside of him tore.
If I had been clearheaded, could I have found a way to save Irial?
The Dark King shook his head. He wasn’t clearheaded. Great chunks of time had vanished, and he had no idea what had happened in them. Yesterday, he came to himself with Seth caged, and he wasn’t sure how long they had conversed or what had been said.
“What are you going to do?” Seth asked.