Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(219)

"He is only a Projection," Kieran said. His face was drawn. "He cannot hurt us. Nor can he remain forever. It is an effort for him, I think."

"Do not turn your back on me!" the King roared. "Do you think I do not know your plans, Kieran? Do you think I do not know you plan to stand up and betray me before the Council of Nephilim?"

Kieran turned his face away, as if he couldn't bear to look at his father. "Then cease to do what I know you are doing," he said, in a shaking voice. "Parlay with the Nephilim. Do not make war on them."

"There is no parlay with those who can lie," snarled the King. "And have done, and will do again. They will lie and spill the blood of our people. And once they are done with you, do you think they will let you live? Treat you like one of them?"

"They have treated me better than my own father has." Kieran raised his chin.

"Have they?" The King's eyes were dark and empty. "I took some memories from you, Kieran, when you came to my Court. Shall I give them back?"

Kieran looked confused. "What use could you possibly have for my memories?"

"Some of us would know our enemies," said the King.

"Kieran," Mark said. The look in the King's eyes made fear roil in the pit of his stomach. "Do not listen. He seeks to hurt you."

"And what do you seek?" the King demanded, turning toward Mark. Only the fact that Mark could see through him, could see the outline of Cristina's bed, her wardrobe, through the transparent frame of his body, kept him from darting toward the fireplace poker and swinging it at the King. If only . . .

If only the King had been any sort of father, if only he hadn't thrown his son to the Hunt like a bone to a pack of hungry wolves, if only he hadn't sat complacently by while Erec tortured Kieran . . .

How different would Kieran be? How much less afraid of losing love, how much less determined to hold on to it at all costs, even if it meant trapping Mark in the Hunt with him?

The King's lip curled, as if he could read Mark's thoughts. "When I looked into my son's memories," he said, "I saw you, Blackthorn. Lady Nerissa's son." His smile was malignant. "Your mother died of sorrow when your father left her. My son's thoughts were half of you, of the loss of you. Mark, Mark, Mark. I wonder what it is in your bloodline that has the power to enchant our people and make fools of them?"



       
         
       
        

A small line had appeared between Kieran's brows. The loss of you.

Kieran didn't remember losing Mark. The cold fear in Mark's stomach had spread to his veins.

"Those who cannot love do not understand it," said Cristina. She turned toward Kieran. "We will protect you," she said. "We won't let him harm you for testifying at the Council."

"Lies," said the King. "Well-intentioned, perhaps, but still lies. If you testify, Kieran, there will be no place on this earth or in Faerie where you will be safe from me and from my warriors. I will hunt you forever, and when I find you, you will wish you had died for what you did to Iarlath, to Erec. There is no torment you can imagine that I will not visit on you."

Kieran swallowed hard, but his voice was steady. "Pain is just pain."

"Oh," said his father, "there is all manner of pain, little dark one." He did not move or make any gesture the way warlocks did when they cast spells, but Mark felt an increase in the weight of the atmosphere in the room, as if the air pressure had risen.

Kieran gasped and reeled back as if he'd been shot. He hit the bed, grasping at the footboard to keep himself from sliding to the floor. His hair fell over his eyes, changing from blue to black to white. "Mark?" He raised his face slowly. "I remember. I remember."

"Kieran," Mark whispered.

"I told Gwyn you had betrayed a law of Faerie," said Kieran. "I thought they would only bring you back to the Hunt."

"Instead they punished my family," said Mark. He knew Kieran hadn't meant it to happen, hadn't anticipated it. But the words still hurt to say.

"That's why you weren't wearing your elf-bolt." Kieran's eyes fixed on a point below Mark's chin. "You did not want me. You turned me away. You hated me. You must hate me now."

"I didn't hate you," Mark said. "Kier-"

"Listen to him," murmured the King. "Listen to him lie."

"Then why?" Kieran said. He backed away from Mark, just a step. "Why did you lie to me?"