City of Fae

It hurt to think of him with her. I did feel for him. I worried if he was okay. I couldn’t bear to think of him battling his secret alone. I wanted to hug the smug son of a bitch and hit him; I wasn’t sure which first. If the Trinity Law meant anything for me, if I could have been bespelled, I’d have been well and truly fae fucked by now. “We haven’t exactly talked about the hound.”


“Cu Sith, the hound, manifests the first time when the carrier, or something he loves, is threatened. Reign knew the risks, and he consciously avoided any situation wherein he might incur the wrath of the hound, but then the war came.” Her voice caught. “Battle changed him. I knew what he was capable of, but … a part of him died in those clashes. When we lost, our enemies came for those who stayed behind, the young and the old. They slaughtered so many. Reign … He came back for me. He saved hundreds. Killed more. But in doing so he sacrificed part of himself to the hound. I tried to bring him back, to tame him, but his bloodline’s curse, the spirit of Cu Sith, cannot be tamed. Not by me. He lost his control. Only the queen could bring him to heel. He owes her his current freedom, and he despises her for it. She dragged him here with her when the elders cast her out of Faerie. And I came … I came because …”

Because she loved him. It was in her voice, her words, her gaze when she’d looked at Reign. “I’m sorry, Shay.”

“After the hound claimed him, we drifted apart. He’s never said he blamed me, but I see it in his eyes.”

I didn’t understand the world the fae had come from, their rules or way of life or what it must have felt like to have the man she loved turn away from her. Shay and Reign had a lifetime’s worth of history. And there I was, wearing Reign’s coat. I felt unworthy. “When we get out, will you tell me more about Faerie and Reign?”

“I’d like that. So many don’t like to talk about home, but I do.”

If we got out. As much as I willed the lock to open, unsurprisingly, it didn’t. I guessed psychic powers weren’t in a construct’s blueprints. With a growl, I kicked the bars. “Damn it … This wasn’t how it was meant to go down.” Hands laced in my hair, I scanned the ceiling for anything … anything at all. A dust-covered web in the top left-hand corner drew my eye. Shivers trickled through me. She’s watching.





***





Tiny scratching flutters sprinkled from my hairline, over my eye and down my cheek. I woke with a cry and batted the scurrying thing away, only to find a carpet of arachnids inside my cell. “Oh … spiders.”

“Spiders?” Shay groaned, groggy from sleep.

“There are spiders in here.”

“Crush them. They will be hers.”

Crush them. Right. On my ass, pressed back against the bars, they’d almost perfectly encircled me, leaving an inch of no-man’s-land between us. “Um …” They hardly moved. Some scurried at the back, and beyond, more tumbled from the bricks into my cell. “I, uh, I don’t think squashing one or two is going to help. It might aggravate them.”

“How many are there?”

“A few thousand?”

“Oh. What are they doing?”

Not a great deal. “Watching.”

“That’s unusual.”

“Shay, they’d have eaten me by now, if they wanted to right?”

“Spiders would usually pin their victims down, inject a poison to liquefy their victim’s insides, wrap them in silk, and store them for later.”

“You’re not helping.”

“You did ask.”

“What on earth am I supposed to do?”

“Perhaps talk to them. You are part queen, they may recognize her draíocht in you. There is a chance you can control them, like she does.”

Right. Talk to them. “Uh, hi.” This was absurd. A few at the front surged forward. With a yelp, I pulled my legs back. “Okay, um … Let’s talk about this. I, uh, I need to get out of this cell, and you lovely, lovely spiders look to be really agile and my friend says you might listen, because I’m the queen’s, like you, and I really need to get out of this cell …” To my left, spiders spiraled up a few bars. More joined, until a steady stream poured over the posts. They were organized, like those in the Metro offices. Several of the little critters disappeared inside the lock mechanism, and then, almost too easily, the lock clicked open. Perhaps I had hidden talents, like Reign, but my talent consisted of an affinity with spiders.

Careful not to make any sudden movements, I wobbled to my feet and reached out a hand. The spiders shied away, allowing me to grip the bar and shove. The door swung open. “Oh, you were right, Shay, this really is unusual,” I muttered, stepping gingerly around the spiders as they spilled out of my cell.

“Spiders …” Shay said, and took a calming breath. “Oh my.”

Throat dry, I gulped. “This isn’t normal.”

“No. That is not at all normal. Will they open my door?”

I asked the blanket of spiders at my feet, feeling like a fool as I did, but they just rippled and shivered away from Shay’s cell, toward the main door.

“I will be fine. Go,” Shay urged, “They are helping, this is good. Use them. If you can control them, there is hope you can control the hound.”