Caspian shook his head, still frowning. “You must have loved her enough to realize she would be happier with my father. The man who raised me,” he corrected.
“I know you view him as your father, but I wanted you to know your birthright. You are my only child.”
Felan looked at Caspian. He wasn’t ready to send him home to die. Whether in ten years or fifty it didn’t matter. This was why he didn’t want a gaggle of changeling children. It was too painful, knowing he’d outlive them all. “Stay a while. Enjoy the pleasures of Court.”
“I will get trapped.”
“I will care for your soul; you can have it back later and go back to being mortal.” He just wanted to spend some time with his son, show him how beautiful Court could be, and maybe Caspian wouldn’t want to leave.
“And how many years will have passed while I drink and dine?”
“You are refusing an invitation?” Felan narrowed his eyes. No one refused. No one thought to disobey him. Did Caspian think he could just because he was the only child?
Caspian gave a small bow as if sensing the shift in the air. “No, I wouldn’t decline such an honor. But I have my deal to keep and I’m sure you’d like the issue with the Grey finished.”
“You promised your lover three mortal days?”
“Yes.”
“Then you shall remain for three days and remember that half your blood is fairy and that should you chose to surrender your soul this could be your home.” He laid his hand on Caspian’s chest and a ring formed around Felan’s middle finger—silver with a curious pale green stone split with a red line up the center. “You will get your soul back when you bring me the Window.” Taking Caspian’s soul would also stop Shea from getting it should Caspian fail to find the Window within the month.
Caspian looked at the ring; he placed his own hand on his chest as if trying to feel the difference.
“You won’t miss it. I promise.”
“I will in the mortal world. Without it I will be fairy.”
“And technically banished. Like any fairy caught making deals with the banished.”
“But you said the hearing was a formality.”
“It was. I didn’t need the hearing to punish you.”
“Then all that fatherly crap…”
Felan caught Caspian’s chin and forced him to look him in the eye. “Not crap, Caspian ap Felan.” The name seemed to echo as Felan ensured Caspian saw the truth, felt it burn in his body. “I haven’t lied to you. You are my son, my only child, and a source of great pain and regret. I love you like any father loves a son. But I have a bigger role. Annwyn cannot fall. Its safety is also your responsibility.” He released Caspian. “Do you understand?”
Caspian blinked; there were unshed tears in his eyes. For a moment Felan regretted exposing Caspian to what he felt, the fear, the heartache, the responsibility, everything.
“I understand. You will keep your word?”
“My word is law. Three mortal days and you go back to your lover. Your soul in exchange for the Window.”
“You don’t need my soul.”
“No, but I want to hold you close for a little longer.” Felan caressed the stone on the ring. “Besides, three days here without drinking and dancing would be torture, and I’m not cruel.”
“You took my soul for my own good?”
“Yes. Now enjoy the party.” Felan opened the door. “You may go where you wish except the Queen’s chambers.”
“What about my shop?”
“You have a new assistant, Bramwel. His specialty is statues.”
Caspian opened his mouth, then shut it again.
Felan waited, sure his son had something to say.
“This isn’t over, Felan ap Gwyn.” The words vibrated in the room.
Felan smiled. Caspian was a quick learner, a sharp thinker, and good-looking. So fairy despite his mortality. His heart swelled with pride. He’d done the right thing letting him be raised in the mortal world. He had to believe that. And he had to make the most of what little time he had with him.
“No, it’s not.” He touched the ring that held his son’s soul. It was warm and fragile and reminded him of holding the delicate newborn over thirty years ago. “Just watch where you throw my name around. It could attract the wrong kind of attention.”
Caspian went to walk out of the antechamber, then paused. “How will I know when three days are up?”
“I will escort you to a gate.”
“And see me safely through?”
Felan placed his hand over his heart. “My word as Prince, and as a father. I won’t let harm come to you while you are here, and I’ll do my best in your world.”
This time Caspian nodded. “Accepted.”
A little shimmer of power ran through the air. If Caspian had been born here, he’d have been a powerful fairy.
Caspian followed a shadow servant through the castle. He wanted to avoid the actual Court where the parties happened. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his father, he just didn’t trust fairies. He ran his hand over his chest again, but he didn’t feel any different. Certainly not dead. Without a soul he should be dead. A human would be dead. The only thing keeping him alive was the fairy blood in his veins. Maybe he felt lighter somehow. Like he’d had a couple of drinks and was feeling taller and less mortal.
He was less mortal. He was immortal. He stopped to consider that and what it meant. If he stayed here, he would never die. It was an odd sensation to realize he could live forever. But that would mean a life surrounded by fairies, not humans, and a life without ever seeing Lydia again. Beneath his feet the grass was soft, and the trees rustled in the breeze. This place was like a gentle dream—one that would keep him from truly living if he fell under its spell.
“Take me to a private room,” he ordered the shadow. He almost apologized at the harsh tone of his voice then saw no point. His step faltered as he realized what he’d thought. He’d dismissed the shadow as nothing, not even worth kindness. Was the loss of his soul having an effect already?
The shadow didn’t seem to notice and led him up a winding staircase made of branches and carpeted with leaves. Music and the scent of food drifted up, but he refused to be tempted.
In the small room he closed the door and sat down to think.
Somehow he’d become a pawn… maybe more valuable than that, a knight, or bishop, in a fairy game of chess. The trouble was he couldn’t determine the players, which boards they played on, or how many games they were each playing.
He pulled out the smooth shard of mirror. The surface was dark no matter which way he turned it. When Felan had shown it to him Caspian had been sure he’d seen Lydia. Impossible; he’d looked at everything in that house, been through boxes and the attic, stables and the run-down cabins. The Window wasn’t there. If darkness was all it was going to show him, it wasn’t going to be much help. He touched the surface but got nothing. He was as blind as any man. Maybe it would be more use in the mortal world. He kept the shard in his hand and waited, waited for another glimpse of Lydia. Waited for the three days to pass.
He wouldn’t join the Court and he wouldn’t be lured into lingering. He had to remember the reason why he had to get home and it had nothing to do with fairies and the damn Window or even his soul. His heart was much more important. He’d forgotten that after the divorce. He wouldn’t forget again. He wouldn’t forget Lydia.
Chapter 17
Lydia checked her cell phone again, in case she hadn’t heard it ring while it had been in her handbag. There were a couple of missed calls from the media about tomorrow’s memorial service, and a few texts from her friends. They wanted to see the latest chick flick—something about a wedding and the wrong guy—but she wasn’t in the mood for anything funny.