“Isn’t it obvious?” Daigh sneered. He held the haughty expression for only a moment before his face collapsed in a painful spasm. A knife twisted in my gut.
“Obviously not,” I folded my arms. “Or we wouldn’t be asking.”
“You wanted to reach Maeve,” Aline said from the doorway. “And me.”
I glanced up at her. Beside her, Smithers knelt on the ground, a trembling hand pressed to his temples as he stared at Daigh. Something about being in the same room as Daigh was hurting him. I glanced at Aline, but she shook her head. She had no idea what was going on, either.
“Robert, Robert, Rob, Rob, Rob…” he murmured, walking his shaking fingers across the floor toward Daigh. “We’re together at last.”
Daigh slapped Smithers’ hand away and grinned up at me. “You were hiding in your castle, dearest daughter. I needed to reach you, but the only way to get through the wards was to engage the use of a demon friend. He cleverly pointed out that if I was no longer a fae, the wards could no longer keep me out. I had to lose my fae powers, so I traded them.”
“What did you trade them for?”
Daigh grinned. “That’s my business. All you need to know is that once I understood how much those stupid humans meant to you, I decided to made this sacrifice so that we could be a family.”
In a weird, twisted way, I could see how he’d come to this conclusion. It was the kind of logic that made sense to an Unseelie.
I snorted. “You used the dream you gave me to make me believe this was all part of my story, that I was destined to lose my coven. But it didn’t happen like that, did it? You played this completely wrong, and you lost your powers for nothing. We’re never going to be a family. Biologically, that man on the floor over there is my father. My mother stands in the doorway, and she’ll never want you again now. You’re not one of us, and I’m not your daughter. End of discussion.”
Daigh sneered. “What did that blood test say?”
“We haven’t got the results yet. But they’ll confirm my conclusion, because that’s how geneticsworks. And even if youweremy father, even if you hadn’t occupied Robert’s brain by force, then I would still never join you. Family is about more than blood, and you took mine from me. I might not kill you for that, but I won’t forgive you for it, either.”
Smithers dragged his body across the floor and wrapped his arms around Daigh. “Something’s wrong with Robert. Rob will fix him up.”
“Get off me, you gibbering fool.” Daigh tried to push Smithers off him, but he was too weak. He sat glumly, enduring the other man’s embrace. “You’ll be keeping me in this metal prison, then?”
“What’s our alternative? You can’t be trusted.”
“That’s fair. But don’t you think I could help you? What are you going to do about Liah? About the Slaugh?”
I let the corners of my mouth draw up into a sly smile, as if we had it all planned out, as if we knew exactly what we were doing. As if we weren’t pinning all our hopes on a swelling supply of belief magic we had no idea how to control.
“None of your business,” I said, as I backed out of the room.
“Wait,” Daigh lunged for the door. “Maeve, I want?—”
I slammed the door in his face.
CHAPTER NINE
NINE: ROWAN
Maeve and the other spirit witches went down to speak to Daigh. Part of me wanted to go with them. I wanted to look into the eyes of Corbin’s killer. But I also knew that seeing Daigh wouldn’t heal the hole in my heart or give me the answers I craved.
Besides, I knew Corbin wasn’t dead, and now was the perfect time to start figuring out how he’d pulled that off.
Everyone else who hadn’t gone to interrogate the fae king remained slumped in the sodden and charred drawing room, faces stupefied, not sure how to continue the conversation. There was so much that still needed to be said. Simon announced there was food in the kitchen if anyone was still hungry. Arthur got up to follow him, and I trailed after him, touching his hand. He jumped at my fingers on his skin, his hand flying to his sword.
“Hey,” I whispered. “You okay?”
“No,” he growled. His hand didn’t leave the weapon. I stepped back from him, anxiety rippling through me. The rage that dripped from his voice took me back to a time before Briarwood, before the squat, where I’d lived in fear of rage like that.
He’s your friend. You can’t think of him like that. He’s not a monster. He’s hurting, too.
But Arthur’s hurt was becoming dangerous. He’d turned on Blake, and those fireballs… I never met Arthur when he first came to Briarwood, but Corbin had told me stories about the rage that burst out of him and incinerated several priceless tapestries. Arthur needed Corbin’s calming influence to conquer his anger. But Corbin wasn’t here.
We have to find a way to reach Corbin, wherever he is.We aren’t complete without him.
