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Oh God. Conor. A hard, cold knot settled in the pit of her stomach. She dropped back onto the bed, swallowing hard. Trying to slow her breathing. She dipped a head toward him. “But tell me how?” she asked, surprised at the calmness in her voice.
“Bligh’s wards are strong. But there are chinks in every knight’s armor.”
This was her fault—this effect her strange power had on magic. If Morgan’s injury was a warning—here was the ultimate proof. Asher in her bedchamber—or at least Asher’s ghost. Just as frightening, if you asked her.
“I only want to talk to you,” he continued. “’Tis all I’ve ever wanted.”
She crossed her arms, her courage returning as the truth of Asher’s words sunk in. He couldn’t harm her. He wasn’t here. “Is that why your pack of devils attacked me? Why you sent a hired assassin after me?”
He offered her an apologetic shrug. “The Keun Marow are crude and difficult to restrain. They were instructed to retrieve the reliquary. Nothing more.
Bligh’s presence there provoked them into overstepping their instructions. You can be assured they were firmly chastised.” His whiplash smile never reached his eyes.
“And Simon?”
“A headstrong young man. I’m afraid, hatred of his cousin overruled his good sense.”
His image quivered, faded to almost nothing before returning stronger, more substantial. Was this her magic at work again? She tried not to show her alarm. If talking to him meant there was a chance—no matter how slim—that Conor’s showdown with him could be averted, she’d risk it.
“What do you want then? Get on with it,” she said. His body bent to a sitting position. Though no chair was visible, his talon-like fingers curled around invisible armrests. Wherever he was, he was settling in. “The reliquary. I want the reliquary.”
She’d no idea where the reliquary was. She hadn’t seen it since their arrival at Daggerfell. She wasn’t about to tell Asher that. Instead she asked, “Why?”
“I’ll assume Bligh’s told you the story of the Jevan Triad. My brothers and myself.”
“Enough to know I don’t want you anywhere near that box.”
He frowned. “Bligh doesn’t know it all. No one does anymore. It was too long ago. And those that did pass on the tales were tainted by the fey’s telling of things.”
“They must have had good reasons for locking you three away.”
He nodded in agreement. “Of course, but they never understood. They were small minds who couldn’t see past their own fears and insecurities. They still like their walls. Like to hide in the shadows and let the superstitious mortals chase them into the corners of the world.”
None of this had anything to do with Conor that she could see. And if the fey wanted to keep to their world, let them. She grew impatient. “You told me this was about Conor.”
He spread his hands in supplication. “It has everything to do with Bligh. With all the race of Other. You saw the way those villagers attacked him once they marked him as different. You see the way all the Blighs hide their abilities behind the drab little life of farmers. Sailors. Never allowing their powers to be known. The talents that mark them as special. Superior.”
“And why do you care?”
He looked shocked she’d asked. “I care as I care how all fey are treated. I care because if I don’t, nothing will change, and the fey will remain pushed to the fringes forever.”
“So how can you change that?”
“By bringing the worlds together. Uniting the races so that we might all share the light. The Triad as a force could bring down the walls. The fey would no longer hide. The mortals would no longer persecute.”
His eyes blazed. His voice took on the ring of a sermon. The injustice. The discrimination. Twisted sense from a warped mind.
She’d not listen anymore. What if someone caught her in conversation with the demon fey? They might think she was in league with him. “Conor’s not dense. If he fights to keep you away from the reliquary, it’s for a good reason.”
“He’s infected with the same prejudices that hold all the fey in shackles of their own making. He would rather rot in secret than take a chance on what could be his if he just stretched out his hand and took it.”
She got to her feet. “You’re insane.”
He rose as well, putting a hand out as if he could hold her. “Wait.”
A sudden thought occurred to her. “And what about Ysbel? That was no accident.”
His expression grew guarded. Cool where before the passion for his cause had ignited a fire in his eyes. “Bligh’s cousin’s jealousies run deep, as I told you.”
