Page 7 of Be the Serpent

His voice finally broke. He lifted his head, turning to look at me. “I thank Oberon every day for the binding he placed on his child, forbidding her to do direct harm to those he had claimed, and for the fact that he claimed your mother before he left us. She couldn’t order me to kill you. And I couldn’t disobey a direct order. Saving my brother’s wife and daughter had spent the last of her good graces; she would never have tolerated a second refusal from me. Had she ordered me to kill you, I would have had no choice. I’m so sorry.”

THREE

Luna smirked, the expression of dismayed displeasure she’d been wearing throughout this story giving way to something smugger and more self-satisfied. So this was why she’d asked if we could hold Raysel’s second appeal on the anniversary of my return from the pond. She’d done it to hurt Simon, not to hurt me. Oh, I was probably acceptable collateral damage in her eyes—Luna and I hadn’t exactly been getting along for the last several years—but this was all aimed at hurting him.

From the look on her face, she expected that admission to upset me. I glanced to the Luidaeg for permission, then walked toward Simon, still standing hand-in-hand with Patrick. Both watched my approach warily, but neither of them moved again.

“Fuck her,” I said, and put my arms around Simon’s shoulders, hugging him from the side. Startled, he let go of Patrick’s hand and put his arms around me in turn. I looked at Luna as I spoke. “She wanted you to kill your sister-in-law and niece, and you didn’t. She wanted you to kill me, even if she couldn’t say so in as many words, and you didn’t. Your Firstborn tried to make you break the Law, and you managed to evade her at every turn. You’re not on trial here, and even if you were, I’d find you innocent.”

Simon made a choked noise and said nothing. Luna glared at me.

The Luidaeg cleared her throat. “October is correct. We’re not here to audit the crimes of Simon Lorden. Why have you asked him to present a recounting of what he did to your daughter? His crimes are well documented and known, and have been paid for tenfold.”

“If he hadn’t broken her mind in the dark, she would never have done the things she did,” spat Luna.

“And if my sister hadn’t used her influence over her own descendants to control him, he would never have taken her,” said the Luidaeg. “This is a game that can go on forever, little rose, and some of its roots are deep and poisonous. Or do you want your own crimes held up to the light? Of you, the failure, and your child, only you have unquestionably broken the Law. Would you prefer this day become an accounting of everyone’s past transgressions?”

Luna recoiled. “I’m not the one under discussion here,” she spat.

“I’m sure Hoshibara’s parents wish you were,” said the Luidaeg. “Or that you would be, one day. Regardless, I still fail to see what Simon has to do with Raysel’s choices. She made them after she was free, she made them willingly, and she acted of her own accord.”

“She was working with Dugan,” I said, not letting go of Simon.

“Yes,” said the Luidaeg. “And Dugan was working with my sister’s puppet queen. But there’s never been any evidence that my sister directly influenced Rayseline’s actions, or that they even met in person. Raysel made poor choices. She made dangerous choices. She still acted of her own free will. Does anyone contest this?”

Luna looked like she wanted to. Unfortunately, the only piece of evidence she had left to present—that Raysel had also been working with Oleander, who had a much closer relationship to Evening—wasn’t going to do her any favors, since Raysel was directly responsible for Oleander’s death. She could still be charged with that violation of the Law, even with the Luidaeg and the Roane allowing her clemency for both Connor’s death and the death of a Selkie woman I had never met.

Raysel hadn’t known at the time, and neither had I, but Selkies were close enough to human that elf-shot was fatal to them. She was a killer, absolutely. She had also been using a weapon she believed was safe to aim at her own kind.

Finally, slowly, I let go of Simon, looking to the Luidaeg. She nodded, and I said, very clearly, “No. I do not contest that Rayseline Torquill acted of her own free will when she abducted my daughter, Gillian Marks, from her home with intent to do her damage.”

“I do not contest that Rayseline Torquill acted of her own free will when she stole my sons from what should have been safety and imprisoned them, intending to do them damage,” said Patrick. “Her puppeteers hoped to start a war. Had they succeeded, I would be calling for her death.”

Luna looked like she wanted to say something. Showing rare restraint, she didn’t.

“She was definitely acting of her own free will when she cut off my finger,” said Dean, holding up his left hand to show the gap between his middle finger and his thumb. It had healed cleanly, and the scar tissue shone in the light. Making eye contact with Luna, he said, “She knew what she was doing. But we understand violence in the Undersea, even if it’s unusual on the land. I knew what she was doing, too. I hold a lot of grudges. I don’t think they’re enough to leave her sleeping.”

“Without her, I could have been—I don’t even know what I could have been, and now I never will,” said Gillian. “But I’m happy. I have Firtha, and the Roane, and the whole wide sea. Without her, I’d be a different person. I like who I am enough not to regret it.”

“All right,” said the Luidaeg. She looked to Arden on her throne. “The last time we stood here, I listened to everything said, and to the holes where nothing could be spoken, since the failure was still asleep in his own bower, and I refused. As sea witch and Lady of the Lake and mother of the Roane, I refused to see the child who had done me and mine such injury awakened.”

“Yes,” said Arden, apparently feeling like she was allowed to rejoin the conversation at this point. “You did. Have matters changed?”

“The time was wrong before,” said the Luidaeg. She set her hand on Karen’s shoulder. “The tides have shifted, and the girl can wake now, if Your Majesty agrees.”

It was nicely done, the little reminder that she knew Arden was in charge here: she might be Firstborn, but this wasn’t her Kingdom. Arden nodded, settling back in her throne.

“The evidence has been presented, and as no one stands before us to charge the girl with violation of the Law, she can be awakened as soon as the tincture is prepared.”

Beside her, Cassandra cleared her throat. Arden glanced over, eyebrows raised.

“Something to say, Miss Brown?”

“Only that Walther anticipated this might be the outcome, and left a sufficient dose to wake her when he went to work this morning.” She reached into her tunic, pulling out a small bottle filled with glittering pink liquid. Walther had been refining and improving his elf-shot cure since he first developed it. The earliest iterations had required constant refrigeration to stay stable. Now they could sit at room temperature for hours.

Before he went to work, huh? Maybe Walther and Cassandra’s relationship was even farther along than I’d thought. Well, good for them. They deserved something nice for themselves.

“Then all we need to do is send a healer to Shadowed Hills so it can be administered, and she can be awake before sunset,” said Arden. The room continued to watch her expectantly. She sighed. “Right, the formal part. I, Queen Arden Windermere in the Mists officially declare Rayseline Torquill’s slumber at an end; she may be awakened, free to rejoin Faerie and her family.”