There really was nothing he could do.
He was no longer part of the Court.
Isn’t this what he’d wanted? The freedom to do what he pleased. Yet he wasn’t truly free. He’d been given a finite amount of time before he withered and died, and all he wanted to do with his remaining time was be with Taryn and that was impossible. That didn’t stop him from climbing back up the hill, following the deer tracks to where the standing stones inscribed with symbols he couldn’t read waited.
If he walked into the nearest town, he wouldn’t be able to read the signs. Every time he used magic to deceive someone it would shorten his life. He walked between the stones and felt nothing. There was no shimmer of magic announcing a doorway. He couldn’t even feel Annwyn. If he couldn’t feel it, he couldn’t break into it and go to Taryn.
He’d have to wait for her to come to him.
He placed the poisoned arrows and the bows down; he needed to find a way of making them safe or a way to destroy them. Then he sat with his back against a tree and closed his eyes. He felt the old magic around him—he always had when he came to old places—but he couldn’t touch it. It was different—life where Annwyn was death.
But he didn’t need magic to survive. He’d grown up on a farm. He knew how to find food. He could survive here for as long as it took. And if she never came back? Verden closed his eyes. He didn’t want to live. What was the point of living without love?
Taryn stood in the middle of Verden’s chamber. Whereas Felan’s room had been draped in silks and color, this room was simple. The bed was still large and sumptuous, but the colors were softer, as if he hadn’t wanted to drape the branches in colors that didn’t belong on trees. She drew aside the curtain and found his clothes all neatly hung; below were shoes, mostly boots. She smiled as she touched his cloak, then she lifted the fabric to her face and inhaled.
Like a forest at night. Her skin remembered his touch.
Behind her a hound whimpered. She could feel its distress at the sudden change in Hunter.
“Hey, boy.” She pulled the cloak down and draped it around herself. It was too long, the edge brushing the ground as she walked, but she didn’t care. Then she bent and gave the dog a scratch behind its red ears. Its tail thumped hopefully on the ground and he licked her palm. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”
A lump formed in her throat.
She stood and clicked her fingers. The hound followed, happy to have someone to be with. Beyond the door, the King was waiting, talking to another fairy on his Council. She gave him a firm nod. Together they walked to the doorway to go back to Charleston. People bowed and watched as they walked in much the same way they had when Verden and the King had passed by. While she was sure they whispered behind her back, they were no longer doing it as she walked past.
Gwyn paused by the trees that marked the doorway. “If your father won’t take the offer, there is nothing else I can do.”
“You could pardon him.”
“No. But I could banish him so he survives the power shift and then becomes Felan’s problem.”
She nodded. “Do you still plan to make me your mistress?”
“I never intended to take you to my bed. I wanted to see how far you were willing to go to save your father, that is all. You intrigued me because you acted out of love, not a quest for power. I enjoyed your company; you brought life to the Court.” He smiled. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed.”
“I never meant to cause you embarrassment.”
“You are young and unschooled. Verden is reckless. He was always a risk taker. It’s why he climbed so fast. I was envious of the chances he could take.” He looked at the doorway. “Let’s see if your father has learned his lesson.”
The air shimmered as she stepped through, and then she was in the cemetery opposite the big old plantation house. She almost dropped to her knees and kissed the footpath.
Tears welled but she blinked them back. She was home.
She glanced at the King, but he was leaning against a tombstone, arms crossed, waiting. The hound that had followed was sniffing around, then it looked up and over at the house, and she knew what the dog was thinking.
“Verden has been here.”
“He has.” Gwyn nodded. Several small blue birds landed around him, heralding the arrival of King of Annwyn in the mortal world. But the King didn’t make a move toward the house. “Chalmer will know I’m here.”
After a few more moments, the front door opened and her mom and dad slipped out and crossed the road. Taryn took a step forward but neither of them were looking at her; they had their eyes down and were moving toward the King as if she didn’t exist.
After everything she’d done for them—then she realized that they had to acknowledge the King first and not their daughter. They knew their lives were on the line.
“Thank you for attending me.” Gwyn lifted his hand and her parents looked up. They glanced at her. “Have your reunion.”
She threw her arms around her mother and then her father, both of them hugging her.
“Thank you.” Her dad kissed her cheek.
“I’m so proud.” Arlea smoothed Taryn’s hair.
Taryn pulled back. “No, don’t thank me yet.” She’d had time to think about what to tell them and had decided that keeping it simple was best. There was no need to tell them about Verden or that she had agreed to take their place once Felan was King. If they knew, they might hesitate. “The King has agreed to let you return to Annwyn.” Not Court, that would be Felan’s decision. “If Dad will take his original sentence and be a shadow servant for a mortal year and a day.”
Arlea gasped and turned to the King. “How could you?”
“I might ask the same of you.” The King Taryn had first met was there, all ice and power, willing to crush those who wouldn’t obey.
“Settle, Love. I will do it.” Chalmer placed a hand on his wife’s arm.
“No, you shouldn’t have to. You’ve served your sentence many times over here.”
Gwyn shook his head. “No he hasn’t. He ran and took you with him.”
“And that’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Arlea raised an eyebrow and Taryn got a glimpse of the courtier her mother must have been when she’d been on the King’s Council, always willing to step up and question him.
“Sire, I accept the offer. Let this business be done.” Chalmer bowed.
Taryn released the breath she’d been holding. He’d taken the offer. She wanted to blurt out that it had all been part of a deal and that everything would be okay. But her mother got in first.
“No.” Arlea wrapped her arms around Chalmer.
Her father placed his hands over Arlea’s. “It’s a mortal year and a day, hardly any time in Annwyn.”
“Mom, it will be okay.” She glanced at the King desperate to say something.
Gwyn beckoned Chalmer forward and he obeyed. “You agreed to become a shadow, that was all I asked. Your actual service is not required. You have your pardon and are free to cross the veil, although I suggest staying away from Court until after the coronation.”
Her mother drew in a sharp breath. “Thank you, sire.” She lowered her gaze and tried to compose herself.
“Thank your daughter. She played well, right to the end.” The King smiled and Taryn let herself relax just a little. “At your earliest convenience.” Gwyn turned away from her parents.
“What of our duties here, sire?” Chalmer said.
Gwyn glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sure my son will have made alternative arrangements.”
Her mother turned to her and looked at the white hound. “I hope you know what you are doing.”