He reached out a long, slender finger, and rubbed the fur under Gus’s chin. “I did not know if you had your talisman stone to allow you to use the ring.”
She could not bear it if Aelfric was kind to her right now. “I do, but it was thoughtful of you to consider it.”
He scowled. “I do not abandon people.”
That had to have been one of the shortest truces on record.
JUST AS EVERSLEIGHwas about to step into the faerie ring at Rosings, Darcy asked suspiciously, “Where will it take us?”
“To Oberon’s court. We will start our search there.”
“Because your father is an adherent of his?”
The corners of Eversleigh’s mouth turned up impishly. “No. Because Oberon is my father.” And the ground dropped out from under them.
This time the landing was gentle. They stood at the entrance to a long colonnade in the now familiar flower-scented air.
“Your father?” Darcy asked. “Are you serious?”
“Quite. Oberon is one of the few Sidhe who still regularly seek out mortal lovers. There are probably dozens of his children scattered around England. Well, perhaps not dozens, but quite a few.”
“Oberon’s son.” Darcy shook his head. “This is already different than my last visit. When I was here before, a gnome told me I should not pollute the ground of Faerie with my human footsteps, so I had to ride to the lord’s estate. Is it acceptable for me to walk here?”
Eversleigh grinned. “My friend, you have been the subject of a fay prank. The gnome could have sent you anywhere in Faerie using the rings. You may walk wherever you please.”
That long, precarious, blissfully torturous ride with Elizabeth in his arms had been a prank?
His stupefaction must have shown, for Eversleigh added, “The lesser fay love to play jokes on mortals, and they are very good at it. Come;we do not have far to go.”
“But Pepper must have known it was a prank, and she still took part in it.”
“Did you think your phouka friend does not also enjoy pranks?”
They set off down the colonnade. After a short distance it intersected a wide path leading to a living arch of trees. Eversleigh strode through it without hesitation, so Darcy did as well.
“I must pay my respects to Oberon before proceeding. It would be a slight if I did not,” said Eversleigh apologetically.
“I can wait outside while you do so.” It was not mere politeness. Meeting Lord Cathael had been terrifying enough. Darcy had no desire to be face-to-face with the Sidhe king who wished to wage war on all mortals.
“Sorry, my friend. You cannot escape that easily. I cannot have it said that I brought a mortal here without Oberon’s knowledge. Besides, it will do him good to be reminded that not all mortals are monsters.” Eversleigh clapped his arm. “Don’t worry. Faerie royalty requires far less ceremony than their mortal cousins do.”
Darcy was beginning to regret not waiting at Rosings while Eversleigh searched for Elizabeth and Frederica. “Very well.”
“One moment.” A flower appeared in Eversleigh’s extended hand and he offered it to Darcy. “Wear this in your lapel. It will permit you to understand the language of the Sidhe. No need to gape at me – fay spells are very simple. I wished for a flower to allow you to speak this language, and it appeared. Had I wished for a flower to kill you with slow poison, that would have appeared.”
Darcy gingerly tucked the small white flower into his lapel. Elizabeth had wished for an apple, and it had appeared. “I will be cautious from whom I accept gifts.”
“A good idea, although it would be considered poor form to give you a harmful gift.”
The trees in the colonnade began to be more frequent until their trunks were close enough together to become a wall of sorts. When they came to a door guarded by two elves armored in heavy leather holding crossed halberds to block entry, Eversleigh nodded to each of them in turn without breaking step. They uncrossed the halberds and stood them upright. One reached behind him to open the door.
For a moment Darcy thought the door had led them outside again. Unlike Lord Cathael’s hall of silver filigree, the walls of this room were alive. Branches heavy with leaves grew out of the walls made of tree trunks. Vines and ivy grew upward covering much of the bark. By some magic, the branches arched up at equal intervals, joining together in the center like the peak of a fine pavilion. Beyond them something twinkled.
A Sidhe scribe sat to one side, working at a burlwood desk covered with ancient parchments. A map hung from the wall in front of him.
Eversleigh swept a full court bow to the scribe, so Darcy did the same.
The scribe carefully set his quill in an inkstand before rising to hold out his hands to Eversleigh. “Evlan, my boy. You have returned.” He grasped wrists with Eversleigh.
