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A Lick of Frost(83)

By:Laurell K Hamilton


I held the sheets to my breasts like a virgin startled on her wedding night. I thought of a dozen things to say, but finally said, "Uncle Taranis, where are we?" There, I'd reminded him that I was his niece. I wasn't panicking out loud. He'd already proven he was crazy in the lawyer's office. He'd proved it again by knocking me unconscious and bringing me here. I was going to be calm, for as long as I could.

"Now, Meredith, don't call me "Uncle." It makes me feel old."

I stared up into that handsome face, trying to see some sanity that I could reason with. He smiled down at me, looking charming and unworldly handsome, but there was no hint that what was happening was wrong, or strange. He acted as if nothing was wrong. That was more frightening than almost anything he could have done.

"All right, Taranis. Where are we?"

"My bedroom." He made a gesture, and I followed the line of his hand.

It was a room, but it was edged with flowering vines, and trees espaliered to the wall, heavy with fruit. Jewels winked and glittered among the verdant plant life. It was almost too perfect to be real. The moment I thought it, I knew I was right. It was illusion. I did not try to break it. It did not matter that he used magic to make his room look lovely. He could keep his decorating tricks to himself. Though part of me wondered how I had been so sure so soon that it wasn't real?

"Why am I in your bedroom?"

He frowned then, just a little. "I want you to be my queen."

I licked my lips, but they stayed dry. Should I try reason? "I am heir to the Unseelie throne. I cannot be both your queen and queen of the Unseelie Court."

"You never have to go back to that awful place. You can stay here with us. You were always meant to be Seelie." He leaned in, as if to kiss me again.

I couldn't help it. I recoiled from him.

He stopped, frowning again. He looked like he was thinking and it hurt. He wasn't a stupid man. I think it was just another symptom of his madness. He knew, in some part of him, that he was in the wrong, but his madness wouldn't let him see it.

"Don't you find me handsome?"

I told the truth. "You are always handsome, Uncle."

"I told you Meredith, not Uncle."

"As you like I find you handsome, Taranis."

"But you react as if I am ugly."

"Just because a man is handsome doesn't mean I want to kiss him."

"In the mirror, if your guards had not been with you, you would have come to me then."

"I remember."

"Then why do you recoil from me now?"

"I do not know." And that was the truth. Here, in the flesh, was the man who had nearly overwhelmed me numerous times from a distance with his compulsion magic. Now I was here alone, and he did nothing but frighten me.

"I am offering you everything your mother always wanted from me. I will make you queen of the Seelie Court. You will be in my bed and in my heart."

"I am not my mother. Her dreams are not mine."

"We will have a beautiful child." Again he tried to kiss me.

I sat up, and the world ran in streamers of color. Nausea made me gag. Gagging made the headache worse. I leaned off the side of the bed and was sick. Throwing up made my head feel as if it would explode. I cried with the pain of it.

Taranis came to the side of the bed. Through the ruin of my sight, I saw him hesitate. I saw the revulsion on his handsome face. It was too messy for him, too real. There would be no help from him.

I had all the symptoms of a concussion. I had to get to a human hospital, or a true healer. I needed help. I lay on the edge of the bed, my uninjured cheek resting on the silk sheet. I lay there waiting for my head to stop throbbing in time to my pulse, praying that the nausea would pass. Lying very still made it better, but I was hurt. I was hurt and I was mortal, and I wasn't sure Taranis would understand that.

He didn't touch me. He reached for a bell rope. He called servants. Fine with me. They might be sane.

I heard voices. He said, "Bring the healer."

A woman's voice. "What is wrong with the princess?"

There was the sound of a hand hitting flesh. He roared at her, "Do as you are told, wench!"

There were no more questions, but I doubted that any of the servants would ask again what had happened to me. They would know all too well.

I think I passed out again, because the next thing I knew was a cool hand on my face. I looked carefully, moving only my eyes into the woman's face. I should have known her name, but I could not think of it. She was golden of hair with eyes that were rings of blue and gray. There was a gentle air to her, as if by simply being closer to her I felt a little better.

"Do you know your name?"

I had to swallow past the bitterness of bile, but finally whispered, "I am Princess Meredith NicEssus, wielder of the hands of flesh and blood."