That cruel sensation hit me again, repulsive yet drawing me near. I doubled over, stumbling into the greenery around me that I would not be seen.
Bess too clutched her belly, making a sour face as though her monthlies were upon her. Yet she gave Jamie a sweet smile and croaked out. “What are you doing out here, poppet? ’Tis Samhain and chilly; winter is on its way.”
Jamie nodded but did not speak, only lifted his head to gaze plaintively up at her.
“I only came out here myself because my cat got loose, tricksy creature.” She straightened and frowned, as she looked about herself. “Strange that she should lead me all the way here. I don’t recall running this far at all.”
A vision flashed into my head then of her cat, black as night with emerald eyes and peculiarly tufted ears.Cait sith. It was one of ours.
Dread pitted in my belly as I heard the Hunt behind me. Discomfort swam in my veins, and sparks wanted to pour out my skin. I kept control, but just barely, as I stepped out of the green.
“Jamie,” I hissed. “Come back with me.”
He turned to face me, horror in his eyes, as the Hunt approached. Then he shook his head.
My mouth tasted of bile, even while my belly roiled with hunger, and my skin stung and crackled at the presence of Bess Grieve.
Faery, it seemed, could contain the both of us. The human world was not meant to do the same.
“Jamie,” I tried again. “The Dark Fool made it seem as though I meant to hurt you. He put my knife under your bed. But I never would have used it, you must believe me. You know I cannot lie.”
He chewed his lip pensively, cocked his head. Jamie was not stupid, even if he did not speak.
Bess gave Jamie a half-hearted shove to put him behind her, her face twisted with pain. “You are—do I know you?” Had so many years passed that she had forgotten my face? For she was older now than I had ever grown in her skin, and mortal memories can be tricksy things.
Then Bess saw the Hunt, skeletal, menacing, darker than the coldest winter night. “They... They...”
Her mouth dropped open and she went wordless with fear. Sweat beaded on her forehead even while her skin went white.Does she know how we hunger? Does she recognize the Hunt?
“Forget the Hunt,” I ordered. “They will not harm either of you. Only hand over the boy, now.”
When did I become the beast, the ravenous monster, the coming storm?
A hound leapt forward, snapping its jaws. Bess screamed and Jamie shook.
“Hold them back,” I command the Horned One. But we were so hungry, all of us. Even I wanted to taste Jamie’s flesh.
“I will not give him up.” Bess straightened, though the pain overtook her. I knew it overtook her, for wasn’t it overtaking me? And yet she stood her ground. No mere mortal, I had called her, and I was right. Bess reminded me so of her mother, protecting the helpless and young.
“Give him to me,” I commanded. “The boy will not be hurt. I have sworn him my protection.” I wished I had ever thought to do the same for her.
I want you to be happy, Bess Grieve. That was all I ever wanted.
But I do not always get what I want.
The hounds snarled, and one of them pulled so hard on its lead the cord began to fray.
“We will leave when we have the boy,” I promised, but Bess shook her head.
“The Teind, my liege,” the Horned One said.
“I said I have made arrangements. They are not these!” The pain of Bess Grieve’s presence tore into me as I reached for Jamie, poor Jamie, who looked so frightened, so very cold. But he took my hand, he finally took my hand.
Even as the hounds broke free and rushed upon Bess Grieve. A spear thrust, just where her arm met her shoulder. I felt the pain but also relief, as the presence tormenting me so weakened, pulled away from me, softened. One of the hounds lunged at her, tore a chunk from her kirtle and her thigh, and it hurt me, oh, how it hurt me, but there was also less resistance, less of her rubbing against me, abrading my very spirit. She screamed and was abruptly silenced, as the Horned One held his spear against her throat.
All at once, the rest of the Hunt stood back. Hounds snarled, pushed against their harnesses, but they did not attack. Their masters kept them at bay, waiting.
The Horned One threw a glance over his shoulder at me, eyes like coals in the face of a skull. “It is your move, my queen.” He held his spear against her, pinning her in place.
