An Artificial Night

I froze, staring at him. “What?”


He smiled again. “Put down your candle. Stay with me. You don’t have time to save her and escape, but if you’ll stay of your own free will, I’ll let her go.”

“Why?”

“Because you tricked me once; that impressed me, but I’m not leaving you free to do it again. Because your existence offends me, daughter of Amandine.” He spun the sphere, making the butterfly fan its wings in a frantic attempt to stay upright. “You stay. She goes.”

“And Katie?”

“You have no claim to her.” He shook his head. “Sacrifice yourself to save one, or lose both. The choice is yours, daughter of Amandine. You haven’t got that much time left.”

I looked down at my candle. He was right: time was slipping away, and I wasn’t sure I could make it out alone, much less with my kids. Damn it. Forgive me, Luidaeg, but you were right. I really did run away to die.

“I see,” I said, looking up.

Blind Michael smiled. “Will you make the trade?”

I shivered, taking another look at my candle. It wouldn’t burn forever; if I stalled too long I’d be trapped, and Karen would be trapped with me. If I took his bargain, at least one of us would get away.

I didn’t mean to fail anyone; I didn’t mean to leave Katie behind. At least she’d forget that she’d ever been anything but a horse in a madman’s stable, and Quentin was young—he’d have outlived her no matter what happened. Loving a mortal is never wise. You get burned every time. He was just going to have to learn that lesson a little earlier than I did.

I knew I was justifying what I was going to do. I didn’t care. There was no other way.

“If I stay,” I said, slowly, “you’ll let Karen go. No tricks, right?”

“Of course,” he said, offended. “My word is my bond. Am I not born of Faerie?”

That was the thing. He was born of Faerie, a Faerie so old only the Firstborn remembered it. Our word has always been our bond, and his blood was older than mine. His word would be more binding. “Promise me,” I said.

“If I promise, you stay. You will join my Hunt and belong to me, forever.”

One last chance. I could still say no; I could run away and come back to save them all, if I truly believed I could still get there and back by a candle’s light. The wax was melting faster all the time, running down and coating my fingers. How many miles to Babylon?

Too many.

“If you promise, I’ll stay,” I said. “You have my word.”

“That is all I need.” Blind Michael stood, giving a short, mocking bow. “By my mother’s blood and my father’s bones, I promise,” he said, in a singsong voice that echoed back and forth until it filled the world. I shivered where I stood, wanting to run. Too little and too late, by far. I’d given up my chance, and I was going to have to live with the consequences.

“By oak and ash, by rowan and thorn, I promise. By root and branch, by rose and tree, by flowers and blood and water, I promise this to you: your sleeping princess and her siblings shall be free of my lands, and I will never touch them again. My Hunt will not pursue them, my Hunters will not take them. You have my word.”

His words were ash and dust; I breathed in their power and felt myself go cold. The children erupted into cheers. He’d done it. The promise was made, and not even Blind Michael could escape his own bindings. Karen would go free and I would stay behind. It was up to Quentin and the others to free Katie. The fight wasn’t mine anymore. My fighting was over.

I looked into his face and saw the end of the world. “Your turn,” he said.