Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(28)
“She’s fading.” Falin’s hand supported me physically, but his words were hard, unemotional.
My vision was clearing—at least to the point it ever did in mortal reality, I always missed the clarity of Faerie after leaving—so I had no trouble seeing the queen as she stormed over to Falin and grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling him down to her height.
“And this is the first I’m hearing about it? Why did I even bother sending you to watch her?”
Well, I guess that explained why the queen had gone from preventing Falin from speaking to me to ordering him to live with me. Not that it was any great surprise; I’d assumed he was there to spy for her.
I stepped out of the hands supporting me. I nodded to the goblin, but I didn’t thank him. You didn’t thank fae. Now that I’d gotten used to the achy exhaustion that had crashed on me upon reentering reality, it no longer seemed so crippling. I rolled my shoulders, already growing accustomed to the feeling.
“Are we going to do this thing?” I asked, moving for the door.
The queen hadn’t released Falin yet, so he stooped at what looked like an uncomfortable angle as she studied my face. Anger still flickered around the edges of her features, but there was concern there as well. I wasn’t foolish enough to think it was concern for me as a person, more concern for her potential asset. If I faded she couldn’t have her own pet planeweaver.
Her lips pursed, as if she was about to say something, but then her gaze slid to the short goblin who shuffled nervously in her presence. She released Falin and stepped back, smoothing her dress. “Yes. Knight, take us somewhere we will be undisturbed.”
Chapter 9
As we walked to the parking garage where Falin had left his car, I wondered if the queen or any of her council members owned a car and if it was parked in Nekros. Maybe she’ll just conjure a minivan from glamour. Because seven people and a body in a knapsack were not fitting in Falin’s car. I was almost disappointed to learn the FIB kept a small fleet of cars in the garage for instances when fae who didn’t spend much time in mortal reality decided to pass into Nekros for a visit. We split up with the queen, Ryese, and me riding with Falin, while Lyell, Blayne, and Maeve followed in a loaner. I tried to arrange for the skeleton to go with the councilors, but the queen wouldn’t let it or me out of her sight. Which meant I was stuck with it, and now that we were out of Faerie, I could feel the body, my grave magic having to be held in careful check to keep it from slipping into it.
The car ride was uncomfortable, in more ways than one. I hadn’t bothered trying to call shotgun, and wasn’t the least bit surprised when the queen slid into the front passenger seat. That left Ryese and me in what there was of a backseat. When I’d first met Falin, he’d driven a flashy red sports car that had gotten totaled during our first case together.
This car could have been that one’s twin.
Unfortunately, when it had been designed, the backseat had clearly been an afterthought, with absolutely no consideration for legroom in the event someone actually wanted to sit there. So, I ended up with my legs practically pressed to my chest and the knapsack of gruesome remains wedged between Ryese and me. Even the arrogant fae couldn’t make the seating arrangement look comfortable, and he scowled at the back of Falin’s head for the extent of the ride. At least Falin left the top down and the wind roaring by pretty much prevented any extended conversations.
The house would have been the most private place to conduct the ritual, but I refused to have a body lugged into my bedroom so we were headed for the forest just out of town. The drive wasn’t long—the Quarter gave way to the suburbs and then out into the wilds. I’d hoped that the trip would give me time to form an argument that would force the queen to grant me independent status, but no brilliant revelations had hit me while crammed in the backseat with a bagged body pressed against my thigh.
We found a small clearing far enough off the road that we couldn’t be seen, and I used my dagger to draw a circle for my ritual. The huge skirt made the task difficult, and I used several colorful curses as I tripped on the hem for the third time. If the gown hadn’t been ruined before, it likely was now, though Falin’s glamour still hid the damage. By the time I completed the circle, I was breathing hard, mostly from fighting with the damn layers of tulle in the skirt.
The queen frowned at me. “Do you have the energy to complete this task?”
“Today? Yeah, but I apparently need a tie to Faerie sooner rather than later. I request independent status in exchange for this ritual.” Okay, I’d been turned down once, but if I refused to ask for anything else maybe I’d wear her down, right? Probably not.
“I could offer you a place of honor in my court. Riches. Power. A place on my council. A union with my beloved nephew.” She motioned to Ryese.
I resisted a groan, but it was a near thing. The council members began chittering at the queen’s words, likely at the idea of adding me to their lot or perhaps about the proposed marriage to Ryese. I didn’t care which. I wasn’t interested in either, but especially not the latter. I pointedly avoided looking at Ryese. Still, I could imagine the haughty look on his face that was part a dare to accept the offer and part anger already guessing I wouldn’t.
“I will accept nothing less for the ritual than independent status.”