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A Stroke Of Midnight :: Гамильтон Лорел
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“Your people?” Brii asked, his eyes shining pale and gold in the magical lights.
“Yes,” I said, “they are Unseelie fey, and that makes them mine, makes them ours.”
“That is not how the queen sees it,” Ivi said, and the blood on his face gleamed in the lights. He’d come to stand beside Brii. Their long pale hair seemed to intermingle like entwining vines.
I shook my head and the illusion, or the trick of the light, went away, and they were simply standing close together. I touched Frost’s arm. “Take me into the other room, let us help them.”
“Help them how?” Ivi asked.
“Hafwyn can heal them.”
“You would waste sidhe healing on a demi-fey?”
Frost answered for me. “That you would ask that of her says that you do not know the princess.”
Doyle added, “She will not see it as a waste.” He nodded, and as if that was an order Frost carried me toward the splintered door. Thin high-pitched screaming came from the other room. I prayed, “Mother help us, help them, heal them. Don’t let my power be their doom.”
I caught the faint scent of roses, and a voice like a warm wind. “Grace can never be doom.” With that cryptic bit of wisdom, she was gone, and we were in what was left of the bedroom.
CHAPTER 34
IT LOOKED LIKE A MINIATURE BATTLEFIELD. SMALL BODIES WERE scattered across the floor like a game of toy soldiers gone horribly wrong. Tiny bodies were collapsed against the walls as if some giant hand had swept them away. The four-foot-long Nile monitor lay on its back, and just the twisted look of the body let me know it had finished its death throes. A piece of wood the size of a small dagger had pierced its throat.
Frost carried me in, his feet crunching on bits of wood and metal from the door. I kept staring at the dead lizard, because I was afraid to look elsewhere. Afraid to look too closely at those smaller bodies, afraid I’d find them just as still, just as dead.
Hafwyn had made a triage line of tiny bodies. It had seemed like we had so many men to guard me, and too many in my bed, but now suddenly, we needed more hands. More bodies to help us save others. The queen had stripped me of too many. And Rhys had taken some with him, as well.
“Send word to the queen that we need more men, and more healers.”
Hafwyn looked up at me, even as she tried to hold a piece of cloth on a wound. “More healers? Do you mean to use sidhe healing on the demi-fey?”
“Yes,” I said.
“The queen does not waste such power on the lesser fey.
“Your people?” Brii asked, his eyes shining pale and gold in the magical lights.
“Yes,” I said, “they are Unseelie fey, and that makes them mine, makes them ours.”
“That is not how the queen sees it,” Ivi said, and the blood on his face gleamed in the lights. He’d come to stand beside Brii. Their long pale hair seemed to intermingle like entwining vines.
I shook my head and the illusion, or the trick of the light, went away, and they were simply standing close together. I touched Frost’s arm. “Take me into the other room, let us help them.”
“Help them how?” Ivi asked.
“Hafwyn can heal them.”
“You would waste sidhe healing on a demi-fey?”
Frost answered for me. “That you would ask that of her says that you do not know the princess.”
Doyle added, “She will not see it as a waste.” He nodded, and as if that was an order Frost carried me toward the splintered door. Thin high-pitched screaming came from the other room. I prayed, “Mother help us, help them, heal them. Don’t let my power be their doom.”
I caught the faint scent of roses, and a voice like a warm wind. “Grace can never be doom.” With that cryptic bit of wisdom, she was gone, and we were in what was left of the bedroom.
CHAPTER 34
IT LOOKED LIKE A MINIATURE BATTLEFIELD. SMALL BODIES WERE scattered across the floor like a game of toy soldiers gone horribly wrong. Tiny bodies were collapsed against the walls as if some giant hand had swept them away. The four-foot-long Nile monitor lay on its back, and just the twisted look of the body let me know it had finished its death throes. A piece of wood the size of a small dagger had pierced its throat.
Frost carried me in, his feet crunching on bits of wood and metal from the door. I kept staring at the dead lizard, because I was afraid to look elsewhere. Afraid to look too closely at those smaller bodies, afraid I’d find them just as still, just as dead.
Hafwyn had made a triage line of tiny bodies. It had seemed like we had so many men to guard me, and too many in my bed, but now suddenly, we needed more hands. More bodies to help us save others. The queen had stripped me of too many. And Rhys had taken some with him, as well.
“Send word to the queen that we need more men, and more healers.”
Hafwyn looked up at me, even as she tried to hold a piece of cloth on a wound. “More healers? Do you mean to use sidhe healing on the demi-fey?”
“Yes,” I said.
“The queen does not waste such power on the lesser fey.