Page 76 of The Faerie Handmaid

He knew it was possible the fae would not be at home, but he told himself he would wait. He could lurk in one of the alleys, although he would much rather not. He had no fear that he would lose his nerve, but he didn’t want to spend hours in anticipation. He meant to do what needed to be done as quickly as he could, then race back to the guesthouse so Braithe wouldn’t worry any longer than necessary. He wouldn’t hide. He wouldn’t deny anything. He would accept whatever punishment she and Priestess Morgana wanted to mete out. At least he had no magic to be taken away.

He approached Skye’s house and was relieved to see the fae moving past one of the windows, carrying something in his hands. Idhri moved closer. Skye was collecting things from cupboards and packing them into a case. Losing his house was part of his penalty. Idhri wondered if he had someplace to go.

But it didn’t matter. Skye, the seducer, the murderer, wasn’t going anywhere.

Idhri patted his waist to assure himself the knife was ready, then banged on the door of the house with his fist.

In moments Skye stood in the doorway, his eyes dark and angry. “I guessed it was you,” he growled. “No one knocks on doors in the White City. It’s vulgar.”

Idhri ignored that. “I know what you did,” he said. His voice broke despite his efforts to keep it steady. His throat suddenly dried, and he swallowed to moisten it.

Skye leaned against the doorjamb. “You don’t know anything, boy. Nothing.”

“I do. I remembered.”

Skye looked Idhri up and down as if he were a carcass in the abattoir, ready for butchering. “Don’t be a fool,” he said. “If you had some kind of nightmare, it’s not—”

“It wasn’t a nightmare! It was real. I saw you do it. My mother—” To his horror, Idhri choked on a sob.

“Your mother.” Skye’s mouth curled in his mirthless grin. “I don’t even remember her name. Pretty at first, but as you’ll find out, humans don’t age well.”

“Her name,” Idhri cried, “was Ainslie. And you murdered her!”

“Do you say so? I don’t recall.”

“I do say so, because I do recall, and you’re going to pay for it!” Idhri pulled the knife from beneath his tunic and held it in his fist. His lips were trembling, but he couldn’t steady them. The image came to him again and again, as fresh as if it had just happened.

Skye eyed the knife, still grinning, and laughed. “Well, look at you!” He reached inside his own shirt and pulled out a different knife.

It was a terrifying weapon. It was twice as long as the one Idhri had, with a blade of dark steel and a point that glittered in the sunlight.

Skye’s grin faded as he held up his knife for Idhri to get a good look. When he spoke, his voice was silky, dripping with menace. “Did you think I only had one knife to my name, half-blood? That wasn’t very smart. You do realize if I dispatch you now, I evade the penalty?”

“I don’t care!” Idhri was crying then, his mouth crumpling, tears running down his cheeks. “You killed her! My poor mother, you just—you just—” He couldn’t finish. There was no point in any case, because Skye wouldn’t care what he said. Skye didn’t care about anything as far as Idhri could tell.

The time had come. Idhri thrust aside any squeamishness, any reluctance, and lunged at the fae with his knife held out before him.

Skye made a gesture with one hand. While Idhri charged into the doorway, ready to stab, Skye suddenly wasn’t there. Without Idhri seeing him move, Skye was outside on the walk, his long knife balanced in his hand. Idhri, deceived by the glamour, nearly fell, and had to catch himself on the wall. He spun to face his enemy.

“You’re overmatched, half-blood,” Skye said softly. “I thought I had dealt with you long ago. Weakness on my part, but it won’t happen again.” He turned his knife in his fist, the point out, and ran at Idhri.

Time abruptly slowed to a crawl. Idhri’s tears dried. His lips no longer trembled, nor did he feel any emotion, but he saw every movement Skye made. It was as if he were rowing but had begun wielding his oars backward. He had plenty of time to observe the placement of the fae’s feet, the flex of his jaw, the tensing of his arm as he lifted his knife. He saw the tendons stand out in Skye’s neck as he prepared to strike. With his free hand, Skye made another gesture and appeared in the hall again, his knife flashing toward Idhri’s heart.

But Idhri wasn’t there.

This time he had seen through the glamour. He was young and lithe and assisted by Priestess Morgana’s charm. He felt as if he possessed some half-fae magic of his own as he crouched low, tucking his own knife to his chest, then rolled beyond Skye’s reach. The knife strike meant for Idhri collided with the wall. The blade skittered to one side. Skye grunted, and Idhri guessed his shoulder still hurt, more so because the knife had not found its softer target.

Idhri leaped to his feet, brandishing his smaller knife. Time resumed its momentum, and when he spoke, his voice settled into the deep range of manhood. “Come and get me!”

All fear had evaporated, leaving in its place a surge of bloodlust. It was a new sensation, powerful and hungry, and he had no wish to deny it. He taunted, “Come and get me if you can, murderer!”

Skye snarled, “You’re going to pay for this, half-blood!”

“Son, you mean?” Idhri cried. He bounced on his toes, readying himself for the next attack. “Can’t bring yourself to say it?” He feinted, dancing forward, then back, his knife straight out toward Skye’s chest.

Skye tried to make the gesture again, the one that created the glamour, but Idhri anticipated him. He slashed at Skye’s hand, and the fae had to snatch it out of the way, ruining his attempt. “Fool!” Skye shouted. “This ends now!” Made careless by his frustration and his fury, he threw himself toward Idhri.

Idhri, in his exaggerated awareness, saw clearly that the longer knife would reach him before his shorter one could slash at Skye. He twisted his body so that Skye’s knife sliced past him and into empty air. The momentum made the fae lose his balance, and though he tried to catch himself, he stumbled over the doorsill and fell backward onto the path.