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Beck managed a little laugh. “He’s my calm half.”
A kinship opened between them. “Shim is my happy half. I’m a righteous bastard.”
“Well, I’m all sunshine and daisies,” Beck replied, his expression relaxing. “Cian, stop overreacting. I know how you feel, but you know damn well that I wouldn’t have taken a meeting with the Unseelie until very recently.”
“It wasn’t like I didn’t try,” his father said. “I would have tried harder if I’d listened to my sons.”
A little fracture started in Lach’s stubbornness. He knew it was coming from Shim, but he welcomed it. Being angry with his father hadn’t gotten them anywhere.
“I still would have resisted,” Beck Finn admitted. “Until we found our Meggie, we were the ones who were fading. I couldn’t consider any sort of an alliance. It wouldn’t have worked, and then I was just concerned with bonding with Meggie and keeping her safe.”
“You can’t hide anymore.” The quiet statement came from Dante Dellacourt, who looked so much more serious than the entertainments on the Vampire plane had made him out to be. Lach never would have expected the vampire to give up everything to follow his cousins on what was likely a lost cause.
It can’t be lost. It can’t. Not yet. After he and Shim had gotten their bondmate out of Tir na nÓg, then it could all go to hell, but not before then. After Bronwyn was safe in the Dark Palace, the Seelie plane could rot for all he cared. They would close the Unseelie plane and live in peace. Let the other planes duke it out. This wasn’t Lach’s fight.
“I know I can’t hide, Dante,” Beck allowed. “The time has come.” He turned back to Lach and Shim. “We were talking to your father about the plan Dante’s come up with. In a week and a half, a formal group of ambassadors from the Vampire plane will be welcomed into Tir na nÓg. That means Torin has to open the plane.”
Torin’s hags had managed to shut off Tir na nÓg for over thirteen years. Some managed to sneak in. There were always cracks a smart Fae could slip through, but not an army, and that’s what the Seelie twins would need. But if the magical walls were down, a crack in the veil that held the plane closed could be widened by a decent enough witch. Then a small force could get through. What had his father promised them?
“You intend to raid Tir na nÓg?” Lach kept his voice measured.
Cian took a deep breath, obviously calming himself. “We have to. Single assassins haven’t done the trick. We tried that at first, and Torin always finds them.”
Lach’s father answered that one. “It’s the hags. It’s why sneaking you into Tir na nÓg won’t work.”
Dante agreed. “It’s like a magical alarm system. At some point in time, Torin stole hair or blood from both of you. It contains your signature, like a scent to a wolf. The minute you step on the plane, Torin will know. So when it happens, it has to happen fast, because Torin will be ready.”
Simon Roan, the vampire mercenary, stepped forward. “That’s what I’m here for. I can sneak onto the plane and start gathering Fae supporters. I’ve been running small missions on the plane for years, gathering consorts for wealthy royals. It’s been a small operation, nothing that could truly gain the pretender’s eye, but I’ve made many allies. There’s a network of Fae waiting to join the true kings when the time comes. Tomorrow, I’ll take a small squad and begin rallying the troops. By the time we meet up, the kings will have the army they need. Including, we hope, a contingent of Unseelie.”
Lach was just about to point out the problems with that plan when Shim leaned forward. “We’ll go with Roan. We’ll find Bron and Gilly and bring them back.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” his father said. “I don’t know that I want all of my children on that plane. It’s too dangerous.”
“And the plane is huge,” Cian pointed out. “You could walk for days and never come close to her. You have no idea where she is?”
Shim’s eyes went a little unfocused. He spoke, but not to anyone in particular. “She lives in a tower. It looks out over long fields of wheat. She works there, her hands pulling and plucking, working the plow.”
Lach watched as Beck paled at the thought of his sister working in the fields like a commoner. Lach could tell Beck that there was still nothing common at all about Bronwyn Finn.
“It’s almost always hot. Lately when I reach her and I can see through her eyes, she’s preparing for the harvest. Tomorrow there’s a festival of some type. Bron helped put up a pole, and there are colored ribbons on the top. What do you think they’ll do with those?”
“She’s in the Tuathanas District. It’s an agriculture district. They grow much of our wheat and the festival of threshing is celebrated with a maypole. The children of the villages dance around it. There is much merrymaking.” Cian looked at his brother, a smile growing on his face. “It’s perfect. It’s quiet and rural and days from the palace. No one would dream of looking for her there. Or think anything of men on the road at that time of year. Many traders are on the road. Goddess, Beck, do you really think she’s alive?”
“She’s alive,” Lach insisted. “And we’re going to get her out of there before the war begins.”
Beck nodded. “Yes. We have to put our plans aside. We have to save our sister, your sister.”
Dante’s mouth firmed. “No. Absolutely not.”
Beck turned on his cousin, but Julian Lodge stood at Dante’s side. “I agree with Dellacourt. You’re not seeing the big picture.”
“Our sister already survived one war. She shouldn’t have to do it again,” Beck insisted.
“We can’t leave her there.” Cian stared at the vampires.
The vampire me
rcenary stepped forward. “You won’t get another shot at this, Your Highnesses. If you allow the vampires to enter a full alliance with Torin, he’ll have access to all their technology. Think about it. Do you want to go up against a guard armed with sonic weapons when you have a band of peasants at your back? Even waiting a few days could be dangerous.”
