Is he teasing me? Is this the cruellest joke in the history of the world? Offering me this glimmer of hope is a savage thing to do.
“I don’t understand?”
He has been patient so far. Hopefully he will explain.
“Give up immortality. Revoke the ring’s power, so I am free to take you across next time you arrive on my shore. In exchange, I will help your beloved.”
My soul is trembling.
“Free him from his enemies, alive and unharmed, and you have a deal.”
I need to be clear because I’m pretty sure all paranormal beings are as tricksy with deals as the fey are.
“Deal,” says the ferryman.
“Deal,” I reply, with no hesitation.
But now my mind is whirling. Is this really the right thing to do? Maybe I should keep my immortality and go after Mabon? But no, that won’t work. I’ll be immortal, not superhuman, and once they have him in a bunker, I won’t be able to get him out. I’ll be an enemy, on the outside, just one human with no powers.
I could maybe run to his family for help, but presumably the Resistance wouldn’t take prisoners they didn’t think they could keep. Mabon said the bunker was warded against magic. Andeven if his family could bust him out, in shitty fey culture he would be seen as weak and his fey enemies would devour him.
No, I have made the right decision. I know I have. This is the only option. The only way I can save Mabon.
“Hold the token in your palm and say, I revoke you, three times.”
Hurriedly, I scramble to do as he says.
“I revoke you. I revoke you. I revoke you.”
The last syllable hangs in the space between us, and suddenly I’m gasping in a huge lungful of air. Into my body. In the middle of an empty carpark. Mabon is on his knees beside me, hands twisted into my top.
“Blake!” he sobs.
“I’m fine!” I wheeze.
The vans are still here. As are the guns. There is a lone, discarded boot. But no people at all. I don’t want to know what happened to them. I really don’t. I’m going to block it from my mind forever. Denial is a coping mechanism for a reason.
“Are you alright?” I ask as my gaze frantically runs over Mabon. The net was burning him and it was awful. It seems to have disappeared along with all the people, thank heavens.
“Yes, the burns are already healing.”
I stare deep into his amethyst eyes. He was in his human form when the Resistance attacked. I guess he is understandably too frazzled to maintain it right now.
“You made a deal,” he says sadly.
“It was worth it, Mabpie,” I say. “Very worth it.”
Then I pull him down into my arms and kiss him.
Chapter forty
Buckingham Palace. Standing before me in all its glory.
It looks exactly the same. Again. Just like the last time I stood here staring at it, in what feels like a lifetime ago. When I was a clueless member of the Resistance, who was convinced that all fey were evil.
I’ve changed beyond recognition. While Buckingham Palace is immune to time. My life alters thoroughly and utterly. Irrevocably. I’ve literally died and come back to life. Yet Buckingham Palace remains the same. Unyielding to the shifting nature of the world.
It’s kind of reassuring. It is nice to know that whatever happens, Buckingham Palace will be here. Stubbornly remaining. Enduring whatever fate throws at the world.
