Lord of Shadows (The Dark Artifices #2)(77)

"Shadowhunter!" she cried.

The King sat bolt upright. A moment later a row of faerie knights in black-and-silver armor-among them the princes who had dragged Kieran to the tree-had surrounded Julian, forming a circle around him. Swords of silver and brass and gold flashed up around him like a grim tribute.

Kieran raised his head and stared. The shock on his face as he recognized Julian was complete.

The King rose. His bifurcated face was grim and terrible. "Bring the Shadowhunter spy to me that I may kill him with my own hand."

"You will not kill me." Julian's voice, calm and confident, rose above the din of voices. "I am no spy. The Clave sent me, and if you kill me, it will mean open war."

The King hesitated. Emma felt a wild half urge to laugh. Julian had spoken the lie so calmly and confidently that she almost believed it herself. Doubt flickered across the King's face.

My parabatai, she thought, looking at Jules, standing with his back straight and his head back, the only seventeen-year-old boy in the world who could make the King of the Dark Court doubt himself.

"The Clave sent you? Why not an official convoy?" said the King.

Julian nodded, as if he'd expected the question. Probably he had. "There was no time. When we heard of the threat to Kieran Hunter, we knew we had to move immediately."

Kieran made a choked sound. There was a lash of thorned wire around his throat. Blood trickled down onto his collarbone.

"What cares the Clave or Consul for the life of a boy from the Wild Hunt?" said the King. "And a criminal, at that?"

"He is your own son," said Julian.

The King smiled. It was a bizarre sight, as half his face sprang into light and the other displayed a ghastly grimace. "No one can then," he said, "accuse me of favoritism. The Unseelie Court extends the hand of justice."

"The man he murdered," said Julian. "Iarlath. He was a kin-slayer. He plotted with Malcolm Fade to murder others of the Fair Folk."

"They were of the Seelie Court," said the King. "Not of our people."

"But you say you are the ruler of both Courts," said Julian. "Should not then the people who will one day be yours to rule expect your fairness and clemency?"

There was a murmur in the crowd, this one softer in tone. The King frowned.

"Iarlath also murdered Nephilim," said Julian. "Kieran prevented other Shadowhunter lives from being lost. Therefore we owe him, and we pay our debts. We will not let you take his life."

"What can you do to stop us?" snapped Erec. "Alone, as you are?"

Julian smiled. Though Emma had known him all her life, though he was like another part of herself, the cold surety of that smile sent ice through her veins. "I am not alone."

Emma let go of Mark. He strode forward into the clearing without looking back, and Emma and Cristina came after. None of them drew their weapons, though Cortana was strapped to Emma's back, visible to everyone. The crowd parted to let them pass through and join Julian. Emma realized, as they stepped into the circle of guards, that Mark's feet were still bare. They looked pale as a white cat's paws against the long dark grass.

Not that it mattered. Mark was a formidable warrior even barefoot. Emma had good cause to know.



       
         
       
        

The King looked at them and smiled. Emma didn't like the look of that smile. "What is this?" he said. "A convoy of children?"

"We are Shadowhunters," said Emma. "We bear the mandate of the Clave."

"So you said," said Prince Adaon. "What is your demand?"

"A good question," said the King.

"We demand a trial by combat," said Julian.

The King laughed. "Only one of the Fair Folk can enter a trial by combat in the Unseelie Lands."

"I am one of the Fair Folk," said Mark. "I can do it."

At that, Kieran began to struggle against his bonds. "No," he said, violently, blood running down his fingers, his chest. "No."

Julian didn't even look at Kieran. Kieran might be who they were there to save, but if they had to torture him to save him, Julian would. You're the boy who does what has to be done because no one else will, Emma had told him once. It seemed like years ago.

"You are a Wild Hunter," said Erec. "And half Shadowhunter. You are bound by no laws, and your loyalty is to Gwyn, not to justice. You cannot fight." His lip curled back. "And the others are not faerie at all."

"Not quite true," said Julian. "It has often been said that children and the mad are of the faerie kind. That there is a bond between them. And we are children."