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They had been only a birthmark on the back of his body until a few days ago, when they had sprung from hisback, real and true at last. They began to glow as if the individual colors were stained glass gleaming in sunlight that we could not see.
He held out his right hand, and showed us a mark on the outer part of the wrist, almost on the hand itself. The light was too uncertain for me to be sure of what it was, but Doyle said, “A butterfly.”
“I have never held a mark of favor from the Goddess,” Nicca said in his soft voice.
The queen lowered her blade completely, so that it went back to being invisible in the full black skirt of her robe. “What of the rest of you?”
“You’ll be able to feel it, if you think about it,” Rhys said to the others.
Frost called a ball of light that was a dim silver-grey. It held above his head much as Galen’s greenish light had. Frost began unbuttoning his shirt. He rarely went nude if he could avoid it, so I knew before he bared the perfect curve of his right shoulder that there would be something there.
He turned his arm so he could see it. The queen said, “Show us.”
He let her see first, then turned in a slow half circle to us. It was as pale and blue as Rhys’s had been, a small dead tree, leafless, naked, and the ground underneath it seemed to hint at a snowbank. Like Rhys’s salmon it was dim, and not drawn in completely, as if someone had begun the job but not finished.
“Killing Frost has never held a sign of favor,” the queen said, and her voice was strangely unhappy.
“No,” Frost said, “I have not. I was not fully sidhe when last the sidhe held such favors.” He shrugged back into his shirt and began to button it into place. He wasn’t just dressed, he was armed. Most of the others held a sword and dagger, but only Doyle and Frost had guns. Rhys had left his gun behind with his clothes in the bedroom.
I noticed a bulge here and there under Frost’s shirt, which meant he held more weapons than could be easily seen. He liked being armed, but this many weapons meant something had made him nervous. The assassination attempts, maybe, or maybe something else. His handsome face was closed to me, hidden behind the arrogance that he used as a mask. Perhaps he was just hiding his thoughts and feelings from the queen, but then again…Frost tended to be moody.
Rhys said, “Let Abeloec and Merry finish what they began. Let us all finish it.”
Queen Andais took in a deep breath, so that even across the dimly lit chamber I could see the rise and fall of the V of white flesh in her robe. “Very well, finish it. Then come to me, for we have much to discuss.
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