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Mistrals Kiss :: Гамильтон Лорел
Страница: 141 из 148Eamon might be on my side some ofthe time — he might even hate Cel — but he would never go against his queen.
Andais and Eamon stopped far enough away that they were out of easy weapon range. The goblins watched them, and us, from a tight huddled knot, as if they weren’t sure whose side they were on. I didn’t blame them, for I’d be going back to L.A. and they would be staying here. I could force Kurag, their king, to lend me warriors, but I couldn’t expect his men to follow me into exile.
“Meredith, niece of mine, child of my brother Essus, greetings.” She’d chosen a greeting that acknowledged I was her bloodline. She was trying to be reassuring; she was just so bad at it.
I stepped forward until she could see me, but not beyond the protective circle of the men. “Queen Andais, aunt of mine, sister of my father, Essus, greetings.”
“You must go back to the Western Lands tonight, Meredith,” said Andais.
“Yes,” I answered.
Andais looked at the hounds that still milled among the men. Rhys finally let himself touch them, and they became terriers of breeds long forgotten, some white and red, others a good solid black and tan.
The queen tried to call one of the dogs to her. The big mastiffs were what the humans called Hell Hounds, though they had nothing to do with the Christian devil. The big black dogs would have matched the queen’s costume, but they ignored her. These wish hounds, the hounds of faerie, would not go to the hand of the Queen of Air and Darkness.
Had I been her, I would have knelt in the snow and coaxed them, but Andais did not kneel to anyone, or anything. She stood straight and beautiful, and colder than the snow around her feet.
Two other hounds had come to my hands, and they now bumped against me on either side, leaning in to be petted. I did it, because in faerie, we touch someone when they ask. The moment I stroked that silken fur, I felt better: braver, more confident, a little less afraid of what was about to happen.
“Dogs, Meredith? Couldn’t you return our horses to us, or our cattle, instead?”
“There were pigs in my vision,” I said.
“Not dogs,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact, as if nothing special had happened.
“I saw dogs in a different vision, when I was still in the Western Lands.”
“True vision then,” she said, her voice still bland and faintly condescending.
“Apparently so,” I said, ruffling the ear of the taller of the hounds.
“You must leave now, Meredith, and take this wild magic with you.
Andais and Eamon stopped far enough away that they were out of easy weapon range. The goblins watched them, and us, from a tight huddled knot, as if they weren’t sure whose side they were on. I didn’t blame them, for I’d be going back to L.A. and they would be staying here. I could force Kurag, their king, to lend me warriors, but I couldn’t expect his men to follow me into exile.
“Meredith, niece of mine, child of my brother Essus, greetings.” She’d chosen a greeting that acknowledged I was her bloodline. She was trying to be reassuring; she was just so bad at it.
I stepped forward until she could see me, but not beyond the protective circle of the men. “Queen Andais, aunt of mine, sister of my father, Essus, greetings.”
“You must go back to the Western Lands tonight, Meredith,” said Andais.
“Yes,” I answered.
Andais looked at the hounds that still milled among the men. Rhys finally let himself touch them, and they became terriers of breeds long forgotten, some white and red, others a good solid black and tan.
The queen tried to call one of the dogs to her. The big mastiffs were what the humans called Hell Hounds, though they had nothing to do with the Christian devil. The big black dogs would have matched the queen’s costume, but they ignored her. These wish hounds, the hounds of faerie, would not go to the hand of the Queen of Air and Darkness.
Had I been her, I would have knelt in the snow and coaxed them, but Andais did not kneel to anyone, or anything. She stood straight and beautiful, and colder than the snow around her feet.
Two other hounds had come to my hands, and they now bumped against me on either side, leaning in to be petted. I did it, because in faerie, we touch someone when they ask. The moment I stroked that silken fur, I felt better: braver, more confident, a little less afraid of what was about to happen.
“Dogs, Meredith? Couldn’t you return our horses to us, or our cattle, instead?”
“There were pigs in my vision,” I said.
“Not dogs,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact, as if nothing special had happened.
“I saw dogs in a different vision, when I was still in the Western Lands.”
“True vision then,” she said, her voice still bland and faintly condescending.
“Apparently so,” I said, ruffling the ear of the taller of the hounds.
“You must leave now, Meredith, and take this wild magic with you.