Feversong
Page 83

Cruce was motionless, watching me intensely. Were he human, he’d be holding his breath. Oh, yes, he hungered to lead his people. And despite the things he’d done to me, I couldn’t say he wouldn’t be a fine leader for them. No doubt, as fine or better than me. “If I can’t figure out how to use this power,” I said aloud, “it won’t matter if we re-create the song. I won’t be able to sing it. Or wield it. Or whatever I’m supposed to do with it.”
“He doesn’t have you over a barrel, Mac,” Ryodan pointed out. “If we die, he does, too. That’s powerful enough motivation for him to cave before it’s too late. He’s Fae. He’ll never willingly embrace death. Not so long as there’s the slightest chance of his survival.”
Ryodan was right. We could hold out. But for what purpose, what gain? “I’m okay with it, provided the Compact is clearly detailed.” And maybe, once I’d figured out how to restore Cruce’s wings, I could heal a human heart for Dani before I gave such a stunning amount of power away.
Barrons inclined his head. “If this is what you want.”
I took a final, brief moment to reflect, to be absolutely certain, no regrets. The power inside me was brilliant, generous, warm. It could do so many amazing things for so many people. With it, I might be able to shape the icy immortals into a kinder bunch of beings.
But I didn’t want to take on that challenge. I knew who and what I’d become. I was a woman that couldn’t do anything halfway. In time, the weight and responsibility of the Faery crown would take over my mind and heart and change me in ways I didn’t want to be changed. I said, “Let’s go get my dad and draw up a Compact.”
“What guarantee do we have that Cruce will honor it?” Jada demanded.
“He claims we’re both irrevocably bound by it, and once I access the True Magic, I’ll have confirmation of that. It’s a win-win. If he’s telling me the truth—great. If he’s lying, that means neither of us are bound and, with full access to the queen’s power, I’ll be far more powerful than he is. In which case,” I turned to Cruce and said with a cool smile, “I will terminate your existence instantly, without a second thought.”
He inclined his head, “Fair enough. And once you realize I am not lying, and you have completed the transfer of the True Magic to me, I will still accept you as my consort, MacKayla. You, alone, I have given far more truths than lies. You alone speak to the finest of all that I am.”
Deep in his chest, Barrons began to rattle again.
 
 
MAC

I left Barrons, Ryodan, and Cruce drawing up the Compact with my daddy, after having established the concessions I felt mandatory. Contracts aren’t my strong suit. Fortunately, they are Ryodan’s. As soon as it was completed, Barrons would text me and we’d meet at the bookstore, where Cruce would teach me how to use the queen’s power and I would restore his wings. My sister, independent woman that she was, had left the house shortly after I had, heading to Trinity College to inspect the music box I’d told her about. I was on my way there to meet up with her, anxious to know if she could hear the same song coming from it that I did.
Jada had remained at Chester’s with Christian, to assist in his efforts, employing the same druid arts he’d used to remove the soil from my sister’s grave to eradicate the earth from beneath the black holes. If he was successful—he had concerns about not being able to keep it from being sucked straight up into the hole once he began breaking it apart—he would sift to Scotland and bring back all the Keltar, dispatching them to the largest spheres to get to work.
Still, we were only buying time. According to Jada, now that the ergospheres were manifesting, the holes would have an increasingly destabilizing effect on the environment and grow even faster.
Although I’d told Cruce that my race could be moved to another world and survive, I felt an undeniable (and rather confusing to a sidhe-seer) obligation to save the Tuatha De Danann from extinction. I wondered why they would cease to exist if the Earth did, then recalled the queen saying it was because she’d bound the seat of their power to our planet.
A lightbulb went off in my head and I drew up short in the middle of the street, stunned.
If the power was in our planet, then it seemed logical it was this planet I had to tap into in order to make the True Magic work. Was that the missing ingredient?
I closed my eyes, sought the True Magic, and envisioned it shooting tendrils from my feet into the soil, extending taproots, feathering out and expanding.
Oh, God, I could feel the world! I was part of it and it was warm and breathing, bubbling and shifting. Alive!
And so very sick.
Tears stung the backs of my eyes. Earth was dying. This was what the queen had always been able to feel—the fabric of everything, oceans and beaches, mountains and deserts, where it met in harmony, where it was torn and wounded.
It was overwhelming, and tears rolled down my cheeks from the sheer beauty and sorrow of it.
Her assessment had been accurate. We were nearly out of time. The spheres were more than mere holes in the fabric of our world. They were a cancerous presence, changing matter even in areas they didn’t touch, corroding, eroding the very essence of the weft and weave of reality with their terrible song.
I was right. The holes emanated a Song of Unmaking, the same hellish music I’d heard during my brief stay at Chester’s, trickling up through the ventilation shafts from the black hole deep below, invading my mind even as I’d slept.
Chills suffused me and for a moment I felt the terrible song touch me, threatening, as Alina had said, to tear me apart at the seams. I thrust it away, willed a barrier between us. My newfound ability to feel this world was dangerous. I was connected to all, even the poisoned parts. I had to protect myself.
I pictured the abbey, the fountain on the front lawn.
When I opened my eyes, I was there, the wind carrying a soft fall of fountain spray into my face.
It was that easy. I finally understood why the Fae were able to influence the climate and plant life. They were each connected to the planet to varying degrees, drawing power from its core, according to the abilities of their caste.
I could sift. I could freaking sift! That was one power I was going to miss when I transferred the True Magic to Cruce.
At the front entrance half a dozen sidhe-seers were clustered around Enyo, talking and taking a brief break.