Page 24 of The Faerie Handmaid

Emerlyn’s lip curled. “Of course.”

Braithe said quietly, not wanting Idhri to hear, “Councillor, you meant that Skye would kill Idhri? To save a bit of—whatever that penalty is?”

“It is the ultimate penalty for one of the fae.” Emerlyn puffed a sigh and moved to a chair, sinking into it as if she had not the strength to remain on her feet. “I must tell you about Skye. And about the Rule he is accused of breaking.”

Morgana sat down opposite Emerlyn. Braithe stood, arms folded, where she could keep an eye on Idhri’s curtain. She supposed if he wanted to hear them talk, he would. If he didn’t, she hoped the curtain was heavy enough to mute their voices.

Morgana said, “Start with the Rule, if you would, Councillor. There is no mystery about the sort of man Skye is.”

Emerlyn said, “No, I suppose there is not.” She glanced toward the curtained room. “Poor boy. None of this is his fault.”

“Yet Vivyan would be happy to allow him to suffer for it,” Morgana said.

“As you saw this morning, Priestess, the council is a contentious body. I’m afraid Vivyan is in the forefront of every argument.”

“There are arguments about this Rule?”

Emerlyn ran a wrinkled hand over her eyes. “They never cease debating it. Some think the Rule is antiquated and should be abandoned. Others—like Vivyan—cling to the ancient ways as if they will save us.”

“Save you? From what?”

A meaningful silence stretched for a long moment before Emerlyn said heavily, “Extinction.”

8

Emerlyn leaned on the arm of her chair as if it were too much trouble to sit upright. Morgana supposed she should feel sympathy for her, but it was hard. This dangerous moment, the terrorizing of Idhri, had not needed to happen. The carelessness of these fae, who had access to prodigious amounts of magic that the priestesses of the Lady’s Temple could only dream of, offended her.

Emerlyn said, her voice creaking a little, “You no doubt think the Rule is harsh, but delegates of old deemed it the only way to preserve our kind.”

“Surely anyone can see by now it’s not working.”

“I never cease to be amazed, Priestess, at how diligently people defend their convictions, even when logic has proved them wrong.”

“You still have not told us what the Rule is,” Braithe said.

Emerlyn sat a little straighter, but it was clearly an effort. “It was established before my time,” she said. “I am told there were few of the delegates who opposed it. I sometimes wonder if there was more unity in the chamber in those times than there is now.” She hesitated, and her mouth pinched at the corners, as if the words put a bad taste in her mouth. “The Rule forbids interbreeding of the fae with humankind. It is meant to be an absolute interdiction, with severe penalties for violating it.”

“Why?” Morgana asked. Despite the sense of urgency that kept her body taut and her stomach churning, she wanted to understand. If it was such a vital issue to the fae, it could have bearing on the attacks against King Mordred.

Emerlyn shifted her body in the chair, and Braithe hurried to bring her a cushion from her own room. Emerlyn nodded her thanks and arranged it behind her back. “I do not know, Priestess Morgana, how much fae history the Blackbird has taught you.”

“Some. Not enough, it seems.”

“The fae are a far older people than humans,” Emerlyn said. “Much, much older. Our roots are with the priests of antiquity. It is said they are the source of our magic.”

“Which is being misused,” Morgana said tightly.

Emerlyn’s lips pinched at the corners. “By some,” she said. She leaned back against Braithe’s cushion. “But that is another subject. You wish to understand the Rule.”

“Please,” Morgana said.

“As I say, we are an ancient race. We live long lives—too long, some think—and most of us have lost interest in the things that make life worthwhile. We have not had music in the White City for generations, for example. We have stopped making art. And we have virtually ceased having children.”

Morgana stared at her. “There are no children?”

“Our numbers dwindle faster and faster, as almost none of the fae procreate. One of the councillors who preceded me, and her delegates at the time, decided forbidding congress with humans would force the fae to turn to each other, and that would restore purity and numbers to our race.” Emerlyn’s tone was both bitter and resigned. “It was a misguided idea, at best. Passing the Rule has done nothing to stop fae men from seeking partners among humans, by force or by persuasion.”

“Obviously, since half-bloods exist.”