Grave Visions(28)

It was the truth, and she knew it as I couldn’t lie, but admitting the weakness to her stung. In this situation though, I hoped admitting the shortcoming would prevent her from commanding me to perform whatever task she had in mind.

The queen cocked her head to the side, studying me. For a moment I thought she’d laugh, like I’d done something childish, but she only pressed her palms against the front of her skirt. “That is a matter that must be addressed some other time. Today I don’t require your planeweaving, I seek your grave magic. I am told you often hire yourself out for this purpose?”

“I—er, yes.” I glanced at Falin, who finally straightened, the movement smooth despite his extended bow.

“My queen, may I inquire—” he started, but she whirled around, eyes going wide, angry, and cut him off.

“No. You may not. Knight, had you been here, this . . .” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes closed. When she opened them again she was once again calm, cold, and as deceptively harmless as an iceberg. “Yes, Knight, you need to see this as well. I must know your thoughts.” She turned back to me. “What you see today, you may not discuss with anyone outside this clearing. It is court business. My business.”

Her tone held authority and just a touch of power. I could feel the command on my skin, but her words didn’t sink through my flesh like an oath would have. They didn’t bind me. Would they have if I’d been part of her court? And does she realize she’s not binding me? I kept my mouth closed. I didn’t know what it was she wanted to hire me for, but I’d rather not end up oath bound not to speak of it—that always ended up inconvenient. Still, I’d keep her command in mind. I had no interest in aggravating the queen further than my refusal to join her court already had.

“And who is in this clearing?” I asked, my gaze moving to the fae at the table.

The queen frowned and glanced back at the table. “This is my council. Had you attended the revelries I have thrown in your honor, you would be familiar with them already.”

I waited. I wasn’t going to be baited into defending my choice to decline all her invitations. She would introduce her council, or she wouldn’t.

She studied me and then nodded over her shoulder.

“Ryese, you know. Beside him is Maeve and then Lyell.” She pointed first at the woman and then at the man, whom I was still unsure whether or not was Sleagh Maith. Finally she turned to the last fae. “And that is Blayne.” Introductions done, she nodded at the fae gathered around the table. “Come, all of you, follow me.”

Without another word she swept past me, her gown swishing lightly over the snow. No footprints marked her path as she strode toward a group of trees to my left. A doorway appeared between a small gap in the trees, and she vanished through it.

That door couldn’t have been the one we’d entered through—I had made it barely a step before Falin had dragged me to a curtsy and the door the queen had just used was a good half dozen yards away from where we stood. Of course, this was Faerie, maybe the door had moved. I glanced at Falin. He gave me a half shrug that told me nothing.

The council members stood quickly and silently, following their queen. All except Ryese. He slid out from his large chair near—but not at—the head of the enormous table, with leisurely ease. He drained his flute before setting it down and heading for the door after the queen. The movements were casual, in no apparent hurry.

“What is going on?” I asked, but he only smiled a cruel-looking smile and gave a half shrug. Either he didn’t know, or he didn’t care.

Falin motioned for me to follow him, and I did, stepping through the new doorway. The others were waiting on the other side, the queen tapping her foot in impatience. Once I’d cleared the doorway, she turned, striding down the corridor.

The queen didn’t exactly stomp down the ice-laden halls, but she also didn’t move with the seemingly effortless grace I’d seen her exhibit on previous occasions. Her movements were sharp, almost harsh in her haste. Once a small hawthorn fae stepped out of a doorway ahead of us, but he took one look at our odd procession and the branches on his head stood on end before he turned and ducked back the way he’d come. The queen didn’t even seem to notice, but led us onward. We entered a corridor with two ice-armored guards standing at attention in front of a large double door. I wasn’t surprised when that door was where we stopped.

“No one attempted to enter?” The queen asked, as the guards stepped aside. She received a twin chorus of reassurances before she nodded. “Good. Remain at your posts.”