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left home.
Galen moved in, smiling, charming. He opened his mouth to answer, but another
voice filled the bustling hush.
" Princess Meredith NicEssus, Child of Peace."
The man who'd spoken pushed away from the far windows where he'd been leaning.
"Jenkins, how unpleasant to see you," I said.
He was a tall thin man, though next to Barinthus he wasn't that tall. Jenkins
had a permanent five-o'-clock shadow, so heavy that I'd asked him once why he
didn't just grow a beard. He'd replied that his wife didn't like facial hair.
I'd replied that I couldn't believe anyone would marry him. Jenkins had sold
pictures of my father's hacked body. Not in the United States, of course,
we're too civilized for that, but there are other countries, other newspapers,
other magazines. People bought the pictures and published them. He was also
the one who'd surprised me at the funeral and snapped pictures of me with
tears trailing down my cheeks, my eyes so angry they had a glow to them. That
one had been nominated for a prize of some kind. It lost, but my face and my
father's dead body were worldwide news thanks to
Jenkins. I still hated him for that.
"I heard a rumor that you'd be coming back for a visit. Are you staying the
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whole month until
Halloween?" he asked.
"I can't believe that anyone would risk my aunt's displeasure talking to you,"
I said, ignoring his question.
I'd had lots of practice ignoring reporter's questions.
He smiled. "You'd be surprised who talks to me and about what."
I didn't like the phrasing on that. It sounded vaguely threatening, vaguely
personal. No, I didn't like it one little bit.
"Welcome home, Meredith," he said and gave a small but strangely stylish bow.
What I wanted to say to him wasn't fit for public consumption, but there were
too many tape recorders.
If Jenkins was here, then the television people couldn't be far behind. If he
couldn't have an exclusive, he'd make sure there was a crowd.
I said nothing. I let it go. He'd been baiting me since I was a child. He was
only about ten years older than I was, but he looked twenty years older,
because I still looked like I was in my early twenties.
Maybe I wasn't going to live forever, but I was going out well preserved. I
think that really bothered
Jenkins, covering people who either didn't age or aged more slowly than he
did. There were moments when I was younger that it had been a comfort that he
would probably die first.
"You still smell like an ashtray, Jenkins. Don't you know that smoking will
shorten your life expectancy?"
His face went hard and thin with anger. He lowered his voice and whispered,
"Still the little bitch of the west, heh, Merry."
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"I've got a restraining order against you, Jenkins. Stay back fifty feet or
I'll call the cops."
Barinthus came up to us and offered me his arm. He didn't have to say it. I
knew better than to get into an insult match with a reporter in front of other
reporters. The restraining order had been put in place after Jenkins plastered
my picture all over the world. The court's attorneys had found several judges
who thought that Jenkins had indeed exploited a minor and invaded my privacy.
After that he was forbidden to speak with me and had to stay back fifty feet.
I think the only reason that Barinthus hadn't killed Jenkins for me was that
the sidhe would have seen that as a weakness, too. I wasn't just sidhe
royalty, I was two deaths away from the Unseelie throne. If I
couldn't protect myself from overzealous reporters, I didn't deserve to be in
line for the throne. So he'd become my problem. The queen had forbidden any of
us from harming the press after Barinthus's little boating accident.
Unfortunately, the only thing that would have rid me of Barry Jenkins was his
death.
Anything short of that, and he'd just heal and crawl back after me.
I blew Jenkins a kiss and walked past him on Barinthus's arm. Galen trailed
behind us fielding questions from the press. I caught parts of the story.
Family reunion, home for the coming holidays, yadda-yadda-yadda. Barinthus and
I outdistanced the reporters because they were hanging back with
Galen. So I asked something serious. "Why has the queen suddenly forgiven me
for running away from home?"
"Why does one usually call home the prodigal child?" he returned.
"No riddles, Barinthus, just tell me."
"She has told no one what she plans, but she was most insistent that you come
home as an honored guest. She wants something from you, Meredith, something
only you can give her, or do for her, or for the court."
"What could I possibly do that the rest of you can't?" , "If I knew I would
tell you."
I leaned into Barinthus, running a hand down his arm and calling a spell. It
was a small spell, like wrapping a piece of air around us so that noise
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bounced off. I didn't want to be overheard, and if we were being spied on by
the sidhe no one would wonder at me doing it with the reporters around.
"What of Cel? Does he mean to kill me?"
"The queen has been most insistent, to everyone"-he emphasized the
"everyone"-"that you are to be unmolested while at court. She wants you back
among us, Meredith, and seems willing to enforce her wish with violence."
"Even against her son?" I asked.
"I don't know. But something has changed between her and her son. She is not
happy with him, and no one knows quite why. I wish I had more concrete
information for you, Meredith, but even the biggest gossips at court are lying
low on this one. Everyone's afraid to anger either the queen or the prince."
He touched my shoulder. "We are almost certainly being spied upon. They will
be suspicious if we keep up the spell of confusion for our words."
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I nodded and withdrew the spell, flinging it into the air with a thought. The
noise closed around us, and I
realized in the press of people that we'd been lucky not to be bumped into,
which would have shattered the spell. Of course, I was walking with a
seven-foot-tall blue-haired demi-god, which did tend to open a path for you.
Some of the sidhe welcomed the faeriephiles, the groupies, but Barinthus was
not one of those, and a mere glance from those eyes was enough to make almost
anyone back up a step.
Barinthus continued in a voice that was a little too cheerful for his normal
words: "We'll drive you from here to your grandmother's." He lowered his
voice. "Though how you got the queen to agree to you visiting relatives before
paying your respects to her, I do not know."
"I invoked virgin rights, which is why you're also taking me to my hotel to
check in and get changed."
We were at the baggage carousel now, watching the empty silver of it glide
around and around.
"No one has invoked virgin rights among the sidhe in centuries."
"It doesn't matter how long it's been, Barinthus, it's still our law."
Barinthus smiled down at me. "You were always intelligent, even as a young
child, but you have grown to be clever."
"And cautious, don't forget that, because without caution, all clever will do
is get you killed."
"So cynical, so true. Have you really missed us, Meredith, or did you enjoy
being free of all this?"
"Some of the politics I could do without, but-" I hugged his arm. "I've missed
you, and Galen, and...
home isn't something you can pick and choose Barinthus. It is what it is."
He leaned down to whisper, "I want you home, but I fear for you here."
I looked into those wonderful eyes and smiled. "Me, too."
Galen came bounding up to us, putting an arm across my shoulders and the other
around Barinthus's waist. "Just one big happy family." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]