Jono glared at him, as if silently arguing with that fact.
Patrick glanced around the throne room, seeing it had been cleared of everyone but Medb’s most loyal fae and enough guards to skewer them all on pole weapons a couple of times over.
The ogre’s grip shifted, and Patrick found himself being flung forward in the direction of the throne. He crashed to the onyx floor, managing to not hit face-first by virtue of Wade catching him by the shoulder before that happened.
“Thanks,” Patrick muttered.
“He smells wrong,” Jono said, looking at Patrick over the crossed spears of two Unseelie fae guards who had stopped him from moving closer. “What did you do to him?”
“You do not give the orders here, wolf,” Medb said from her throne.
Patrick looked away from Jono to stare at Medb. The Queen of Air and Darkness sat tall on her throne, still in the patchwork dress of skin from earlier. She wasn’t looking at him, but at Jono, the smile on her face promising nothing good.
Wade helped Patrick to his feet as the ogre took up position behind them, a deterrent to their friends from trying to get closer. Jono still sized the ogre up in a way Patrick knew was him looking to start a fight.
“We came to bargain in good faith,” Gerard said.
“You lie as well as any of us, Cú Chulainn.”
“Fae don’t lie.”
The name didn’t click for Patrick—not immediately. It took another couple of seconds before his fogged-up brain made the connection, and when it did, his stomach knotted up hard in his gut.
“Cú Chulainn,” Patrick repeated, the name foreign on his tongue in a way that hurt. Names were guarded zealously by the fae, but some were known to all because of the history their myths lived in. And Patrick—he knew the legends that were half-forgotten, but still real.
“Itoldyou he’d be pissed,” Keith said.
“Now is not the fucking time, Keith,” Gerard snapped.
“What,” Patrick said with numb lips, “the fuck. Gerard, what—”
Patrick nearly bit through his tongue at the burning shock that coursed through his nerves from where the bracelets were embedded in his skin. The silver grew warm, the heat of it rapidly turning painful. Patrick shoved up the sleeves of his sweater and jacket and tried to claw the bracelets off, but the metal wouldn’t move.
“Stop,” Gerard said in a tight voice. “Your Majesty, please. Let him go.”
“These two entered my lands uninvited, so I took them. I can do what I like with them,” Medb said.
“They were invited by me.”
“Your word carries naught the weight it once did. If that were the case, Tír na nÓg would have guided you to my sister at the crossroads, not to me.”
“The Sluagh ambushed us.”
Patrick ground his teeth against the burning pain in his arms, still trying to claw at the metal. Wade grabbed his hands, easily pulling them away from bleeding, burning skin. The hot ache of deeply bruised muscles in his left arm made Patrick grimace as he tried to pull free, but Wade wouldn’t budge.
“Your Majesty, my pack and I came here to bargain,” Sage said, her voice firm and unwavering in the face of Patrick’s obvious agony. “Surely there is something you want from us.”
“I have what I need to ensure Ethan’s obedience,” Medb said, gesturing casually in Patrick’s direction.
Patricklaughed, the pain not enough to steal his breath completely. He raised his head, breathing through clenched teeth. “I’m a worthless payment for an immortal, if that’s what you’re hoping for. Ethan won’t trade me for a godhead he already holds.”
He swallowed against the bile rising in his throat, willing the nausea away. Jono stared at him with unblinking, wolf-bright eyes before half turning to look at Medb but still keeping Patrick within sight.
“You helped the Dominion Sect steal the Summer Lady, but they haven’t brought her to you yet. That’s why you want to keep Patrick,” Jono said. “You want to trade him. Fuck that.”
Medb stood in a fluid motion, her long, ash-colored hair swinging around her face. Something thin and long, like an insect leg, curved around her head from behind her, pulling her hair back over her shoulder before disappearing. The fingerbone crown never moved as she took the obsidian stairs down to meet them.
Medb’s guards moved to flank her, but it was Cairbre who offered her his hand. She took it, allowing him to escort her to where Gerard and the others stood, surrounded by the enemy. Medb was as tall as Jono, but neither looked impressed with each other. Gerard took a step forward, never letting go of his spear.
