I knelt, just out of reach of the dying man.
“You chose this road,” I said. “MacDonald only gave you power; you chose what to do with it. If you are a monster, it is because you chose to be.
“May some Power have mercy on you,” I murmured as he slipped to the “ground” of this strange place. “I cannot.”
I stayed there with him, outside the world, until it was over. It was a bad enough death. No one deserved to face it alone.
36
WHEN I RETURNED to the world, the room was empty. Slowly, weary with conflicting emotions and using the chair from the desk as a crutch, I retraced our earlier steps to MacDonald’s bedroom. Below me, echoing up from the ground floors of the Tower, I could hear gunfire. The rest of the Court was there, fighting with the Enforcers defending an already-dead master.
Eric had used the time well, managing to use some of the drapes from the wall to pull the cold iron sword out of Oberis before it finally managed to kill him. The fae lord sat on the bed with his eyes closed, a faint light glowing around his midsection as he slowly healed himself with whatever Power was left to him.
Eric had removed the gag and blindfold from MacDonald and was busy breaking the chains with the strange powers gnomes had over metal. The last chain fell to the ground as I entered, and MacDonald finally stepped free of his bondage. The Wizard looked around the room slowly, carefully, once, and then gestured.
The sound of gunfire below us stopped.
“My Enforcers are now sealed in the parking garage beneath this building,” he said quietly, passing a phone to Oberis. “If you could call off your Court, my old friend.”
Oberis opened his eyes and nodded, taking the phone from the Wizard’s hand.
“Talus,” he said into it after a moment. “It’s done. Get our people out before mortal authorities get there.” He waited a moment for acknowledgement and then closed the phone.
“Thank you,” MacDonald said simply. He reached over and touched Oberis. The gesture was gentle, caressing. A surge of Power flowed through it, and Oberis’s wound healed. The Wizard turned to me.
“Where is Gerard?” he asked sadly.
“Between,” I said simply, and he winced. “The Cold Death was the only way I could hurt him.”
“A Hunter’s changeling, I see,” MacDonald said quietly. “I thank you, Jason Kilkenny. I will miss him and regret what happened, but you did what needed to be done. Any Boon you ask of me, I will grant.”
As he said this, he laid his hand on my shoulder where I was leaning on the chair. That shoulder seemed like the only unbroken piece of my body, until another surge of Power flowed from the old Wizard. For a moment, my various broken bones seemed to burn, and then they flowed together as if I’d never been injured.
“I have no idea what I would ask for, Lord Magus,” I said quietly.
He nodded and pulled a small black gem out of thin air and pressed it into my hand.
“Keep this, then,” he told me. “You cannot lose it, and when you know what Boon you need, use it to call me. A Boon from such as I is best well thought on.”
“I was sent to help,” I admitted. “I am a Vassal of Queen Mabona.”
I barely finished the words before the room warmed and the world shifted.
“And you have performed well,” Mabona said, appearing from nothingness. Not even Between, I don’t think. She was just suddenly there, as if summoned by her name.
“You are not supposed to be here without permission,” MacDonald observed drily.
“I did not think you would mind,” She replied, and the Wizard gave a weak attempt at a smile.
“Your action is noted,” he told Her. “But I hold, and have always held, that the Boon is owed to the actor and not those who sent him to act. The thought is appreciated, though.
“Now, I dislike to be rude, but I would prefer this conversation be carried on somewhere other than my bedroom,” MacDonald told us all. “I do have several hundred soon-to-be-ex-employees of mine to deal with as well, so would it be possible for us to reconvene—and bring the new Speaker of the Clans in as well—this evening?”
“What will happen to the Enforcers?” Oberis demanded. “They followed Winters—people have died for their actions.”
“I will strip them of the power they were granted,” MacDonald said coldly. “And then I will strip them of any memory of their time with me, and any knowledge of the supernatural. They will live the rest of their lives with a nagging feeling they were once part of something incredible and they threw it away. I will have no more death in our city; do you understand?”
Oberis nodded.
“I will meet you all in the lobby in four hours,” the Magus continued. “We have much to establish as to where we go from here. I have apologies to make, and this city will change. Hopefully for the better.”
“Walk with me,” Mabona instructed the three of us fae. We obeyed, and in a moment, we were elsewhere.
IT TOOK me a moment to recognize the inside of the hotel that functioned as the fae Court in Calgary. The scent of life and greenery all through the enchanted building helped relax me, but the memory of letting Winters suffocate to death in front of me stuck in my head. Peace was going to be a while in coming.
“You are going to be well, Lord Oberis?” Mabona asked. The fae lord bowed his head.
“MacDonald...knows me well enough to do a perfect job of healing,” he confirmed. “I am well. Concerned for my Court, so if you will excuse me?”
“Of course,” she allowed. “I wish to speak with my Vassal in private, in any circumstance.”
Eric took the hint and followed Lord Oberis out of the Court’s grand hall, leaving me and my Queen alone. She gestured, and the moss quickly grew into a simple approximation of chairs. She took one and patted the other.
“Sit, my dear boy,” she told me. “You have done well, far beyond my hopes.”
“It was not by choice,” I reminded her, and she nodded.
“Indeed,” she agreed. “And as you have done so well, I will do as the Wizard did—for your superb actions here, I owe you a Boon. Name your reward, child.”
It was almost harder to know what to ask the Queen for than it had been to know what to ask MacDonald for. On the other hand, She knew things about me that he did not.
“Tell me who my father was,” I asked.
She sighed, deeply.
“What I can tell you will cost no Boon,” She told me. “Your father was a Hunter—you must have realized that when you walked Between, for only the riders of the Wild Hunt can pass that gift onto their changelings.
“He was also noble fae, as you must have also realized since he was my Vassal,” She told me.
“I thought the walking Between was from the quicksilver,” I admitted.
“Quicksilver only makes you stronger,” the Queen explained. “It does not give you any gifts you would not wield normally. I will ask Oberis to teach you more of the Between and its paths—I will likely not have time.”
“But what about my father?” I asked again, not willing to let this go yet.
“I cannot tell you more,” She admitted. “It would be no kindness to you if I did—it could easily cost your life. Your father had many enemies, and you remain concealed from them as long as your blood is not spoken of aloud. I will not tell you his name.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that, and I was silent for a moment as I considered.
“What,” I said slowly, allowing my drawl to slow the words as I considered something else worth a Power’s boon, “if I were to ask to be released from my fealty to you?”
“I would be displeased,” She answered, equally slowly. “But I would be forced to grant the Boon. Think before you ask for such things, however, as the costs are many.”