Truthseeker Part 4

Dafydd was no different, and clad in armor he seemed both dangerous and delicate, a description Lara was certain he wouldnat appreciate. She wanted, against all sense, even against understanding, to send him to safety, even if she herself had to face a battle to keep him from it.

Warring music rang through her head, mocking her dramatics as half-truths and reigniting her pique. aYou could capture him,a shead muttered. aBring him back to me to question.a It was an argument shead tried the night before, and had sullenly conceded when Dafydd pointed out there was no guarantee of catching Ioan.

aWe might,a Emyr had said, in a tone that had put her instantly on edge, aif I were to use a greater magic.a Lara, through her teeth, had said, aBut I disrupt your greater magics,a and Emyr had given her a beneficent smile that managed to be a falsehood all on its own.

aAnd so you must be as far from me as possible, and you will be of the most potential use at Dafyddas side.a It was almost immediately after that that head bespelled her to sleep.

Dafydd hadnat forced the point again, had only squeezed her calfa"she could tell from the sc.r.a.pe of metal against metal, rather than feeling pressurea"and mounted his own horse, leaving her to frown at his shoulders and wait for the signal to ride.

It came with the clarion sound of horns, both in truth and in her mind. She had never imagined there might be a purity in riding to war, but the music of the calling horns told her there was. They lifted her, tightening her chest with antic.i.p.ation, even enthusiasm, and brought unexpected fierce tears to her eyes. It was the being part of something that did it, she thought: the purposefulness of their actions becoming larger than any one rider. For a brief, bewildering moment she felt connected to a legacy older than history.

Then her horse surged forward and she flailed, keeping in the saddle only through the spell that stuck her there. Antic.i.p.ation failed in the face of panic and horror. She was human, and this wasnat her fight, even if shead known anything about making war.

The avenue outside the citadel broadened as the Seelie army thundered out, widening to encompa.s.s the breadth of their front lines. The forest itself receded, responding to their need, and there were suddenly miles of clear land before them, leading down into the heart of valleys Lara hadnat even known existed. In the far distance she could see a dark wavering ma.s.s: the Unseelie army, for now nothing more than a blot on the land.

The sun jolted through the sky, rising too fast and making the time it took to reach the Unseelie army shockingly brief. Certainly briefer than the speed of armored horses could allow for, and Lara thought of Dafyddas explanation that the beasts took the easiest route, one that somehow slipped through the edges of time. In a way, it was good: it gave her less time to think, less time to be afraid. She couldnat reach exhilaration again, not even with the sound of hooves pounding and armor rattling in her ears. It needed a sound track. She had never seen anything like what she partic.i.p.ated in now except in film, with rising music to bring the audience where the director wanted.

That idea sustained her until they crashed relentlessly into the Unseelie front lines.

The heat was terrible. The sun hadnat yet reached its zenith, but bodies and horses were already wet with sweat. Laraas breath came hard, tightness squeezing her chest so each gasp felt like it brought too little air to her lungs. Dafydd had left her buried in a contingent of men and women whose duty was to protect her, and had surged ahead, Aerin at his side, to meet the enemy. A lunatic part of Lara resented that: she wanted to be where the Seelie woman was, fighting as Dafyddas equal, though she knew perfectly well that in this matter, she was not.

He moved like head been born to the sword; like he knew the mechanics of fighting as well as he knew the act of breathing. Aerin was faster yet, smoother and more certain with her blade. Through flying dirt and blood and the surge of bodies, Lara saw the white-haired woman cast a concerned glance at Dafydd.

That, Lara thought, was entirely unfair. It had been a century, in all likelihood, since Dafydd had worked with a sword. Even immortals must lose their edge, if they had no need or chance to practice. She fought off the urge to press closer to Dafydd, to scold Aerin for her disapproval, not that she had a chance of breaking through the tightly bunched guards around her.

They moved even more beautifully than Dafydd did, if she could ignore the results of their actions. There were never fewer than two on all sides of her, though she could tell the riders and horses s.h.i.+fted places as black-armored Unseelie rode against them. Lara clutched a sword in her hand, feeling absurd, but there was no chance of using it as her guardsa blades glittered and darkened in the sunlight. For whole minutes at a time she was aware of nothing but them, of nothing but trying to stay in their midst.

Dafydd was closer than she expected, when a momentas lull in the battle gave her a chance to look up. His face was pulled in a grimace, worse even than the weariness beginning to mark her guard. For a few long seconds she was arrested by him, watching without care to the resurgence in fighting surrounding her.

There was a thickness in his body, a deadly slowness and weight to his arms. Even Lara, who knew nothing at all of fighting, could see that attacks he should have blocked sc.r.a.ped off his armor. Frustration contorted his features, and he lifted his gaze to catch hers across the field. Relief shattered across his face and he wheeled his horse toward her, abruptly moving against the tide of battle.

The weight came off him, his sword arm moving more easily, and a vicious joy lit his eyes. Lara saw herself through his eyes, stiff and awkward on her horse, holding an unfamiliar sword in an iron grip, and could hardly blame him for riding to her side. Maybe truthseekers of legend could make a reality in which they remained safe through their will alone, but she had nothing of that power.

Aerin crashed into Dafydd, her teeth bared as she jerked her chin at the black-clad warriors around them. The command couldnat have been clearer if shead spoken it in words: pay attention! Laraas spate of envy at their shared battle skill, at Aerinas ability to fight at Dafyddas side, faded. She, truthfully, wanted to be safe and protected. Aerinas strength in battle was admirable, not enviable.

Dafydd drew up, bewilderment etched across his face before he shook himself hard and nodded. Then he urged his horse forward again, toward Lara again, instead of back into fighting.

Aerin shouted loudly enough to be heard over the general noise, and cuffed him alongside the head. Armor or no, he swayed, and Aerin grabbed his horseas bridle to haul the animal around, forcing Dafydd to face the Unseelie troops. He hesitated, and Aerin, clearly irritated, slapped his horseas hindquarters and sent it leaping forward into battle.

One stride, no more. Then he pulled it around again, pus.h.i.+ng himself back toward Lara, but now an expression of rage and fear strained his features. Lara heard panic strengthen his shout, and saw the name he cried was Aerinas, not her own. And despite the need to reverse herself, despite the press of men, despite swords clas.h.i.+ng and metal ringing all around them, Aerin was at his side in an instant.

He handed her his reins in an ungainly motion and spoke, words drowned out by distance and noise, but the tension in his body said speech wasnat easy.

Aerinas head came up and she shot Lara a sharp look across the field, then came back to Dafydd with an expression darker than Lara had ever seen. Nerves turned Laraas stomach to a writhing ma.s.s and she urged her horse forward, forgetting the battle, forgetting danger. Her guard slowed her and she shouted wordless frustration, sound lost to cacophany.

She was still an impossible distance away when Aerin knocked Dafyddas sword from his hands and severed his horseas reins with her own blade. Lara, gaping, watched helplessly as Aerin wrapped the long strips of leather around Dafyddas wrists, and leaned forward to speak in the Seelie princeas ear.

He knotted his fingers in his horseas mane and hauled it around to drive it forward with a kick.

Forward, into the heart of the Unseelie army.

Seventeen.

aDafydd!a For an instant the battle went still, Seelie and Unseelie alike looking to the sky, as though Laraas scream had come from far above. She had cried out the night before, looking into the scrying pool, and she wondered which had arrested the soldiers: her horror then, or now.

Aerin, undisturbed by Laraas shriek, straightened in her saddle, watching as whatever shead said drove Dafydd into the enemyas waiting arms.

Rage turned Laraas vision red. She forgot the men and women around her were meant to protect her; forgot that she knew nothing of swordplay; forgot everything except evidence of her own errors in Aerinas actions. She didnat know how Aerin had escaped the compulsion Dafydd had laid on the courtiers to answer, nor how she had missed the lies in the white-haired womanas voice. Maybe, if a spell could force a man against his will, another could hide falsehood from a truthseeker, especially one as infantile in her talents as Lara was.

In the moment, none of it mattered. Her horse rushed forward, Laraas fear forgotten as she stood in her stirrups and shouted.

She should have fallen off, but the magics Aerin had placed on her were to Laraas benefit. She couldnat fall, and she couldnat be expected to do as she was doing.

That, then, was the only reason she scored a blow across Aerinas kidneys at all.

Lara had seen others take hits that looked harder, but the moonlight armor screamed and bent under the force of her strike. Aerin whipped around, pain shattering beneath shock as she recognized Lara. Lara swung again, wildly, as momentum sent her past Aerin. The Seelie woman didnat even have to parry to avoid it, but she lifted her sword to block a third attack as Lara hauled her horse around in a tight circle.

Metal sc.r.a.ped metal, Aerin drawing her blade down the length of Laraas to tangle the guards. A quick twist wrenched the sword from Laraas hand, and Aerin grabbed the edge of Laraas breastplate, hauling her close. aWhat mortal idiocy drives you now, Truthseeker?a Lara balled her armored fist and threw the first punch of her life at Aerinas beautiful face.

Aerinas head snapped back satisfactorily, blood pouring from her nose and upper lip. The nosepiece of her helm had caught the brunt of the blow: it was bent, and a cut leaked red down the bridge of her nose to mingle with the rest of the mess.

Lara, still standing in her stirrups, shoved Aerin backward, snarling aArrest hera to those nearest to them. The command broke their stillness, drawing their attention from the echoing cry that Lara had voiced both seconds and hours earlier. Within moments the sounds of battle roared around her again, chaos personified by glittering swords and splas.h.i.+ng blood. The sun was in her eyes, blinding and somehow, gratifyingly, reducing her fear. Emboldened and not waiting to see if shead been obeyed, Lara pulled her horse around a second time and sent it into the Unseelie battalion. Chasing Dafydd; chasing hope.

She broke through their defenses by speed and surprise, not skill, but it was enough. Surprise let her knock men aside with kicks and once with a bash of her fist, and that was all the time she needed. Time enough to see that, just beyond the Unseelie front lines, Dafyddas silver-bridled horse stood empty-saddled and startled-looking amid surging black-clad warriors.

Dafydd was gone.

In defiance of what she saw, in defiance of what she was, a single thought hung in Laraas mind: Dafydd could not be gone. It rang false, but it wouldnat leave her. It wasnat possible that he had disappeared. Shead seen no brilliant door open in the air, nothing to take him away from the Barrow-lands. But then, shead seen very little, with the sun in her eyes, and the transition had taken hardly any time when Dafydd had brought her to his world.

There were suddenly dozens of Seelie around her, their bright armor splas.h.i.+ng in a wave against the Unseelie dark. She remained unmoving, stuck in her saddle even as she recognized that they were protecting her. They were obeying Dafyddas order, even though he was no longer there. She stared at the earth, half afraid she would see his slim body trampled beneath hooves and Unseelie feet, and then another thought struck her: that head become invisible. She redoubled her search of the ground, hoping for signs of such a thinga"maybe footprints appearing in the eartha"even as the larger part of her rejected the possibility. She had seen his magic. It was electricity, not the manipulation of light that might allow him to hide in plain sight. Perhaps others among the Seelie had that skill, but not, she thought, Dafydd ap Caerwyn.

Which led her back to the impossible: that he had vanished.

She was still struggling with that, searching for another answer, when an arrowhead contingent of Unseelie rushed through the surrounding Seelie army and fair-haired Ioan ap Caerwyn clobbered her alongside the head with a gauntleted fist.

Later, she thought she had not, quite, lost consciousness. Nor had she fallen from her horse: Aerinas magic was thorough. Dazed, shead been surrounded by Unseelie warriors, and theyad ridden through the army at an oblique angle to the fighting. The battle thinned, then suddenly turned to nothing, gra.s.slands becoming forest as her escort picked up speed. By the time the ringing in her heada"for once not born of truth or falsehood, but from simple, painful traumaa"had faded, they were well beyond the battlefield, and she had lost any hope of finding her way back on her own.

Ioan was not among her captors. They were all dark-haired, their helms removed once theyad left the field behind. Three of the group were women; and a part of Lara was bemused they felt she required eight soldiers for escort. They had more faith in her than she did.

A crescendo came over her at the thought, piano chords pounding in her head. Truthseekers, she imagined, could be dangerous, if confronted at the height of their power. She had no doubt they knew what she wasa"why else take her at all?a"but they wouldnat necessarily know that her talents were meager.

That might be her sole advantage. Lara bit back questions, certain her armed guards wouldnat answer them, and tried to bury fear under the strength of her magic as they rode. They left the forests behind, climbing upward, the land becoming less hospitable as they did. Lara built a vision of their destination in her mindas eye: a granite citadel as imposing as the Seelie courtas home, cold and unfriendly as the barren mountaintops they strove for. A wall rose up in the distance, hinting that her imagination was true; impenetrable and unscalable, it drew her eye upward, searching for an impossible palace built at its farthest reaches.

There was no such thing nor, as they came closer, any hint of a path rising along its sheer face. Its foot was buried in darkness, and they were nearly upon it before Lara realized it was a chasm cutting hundreds of feet down into the rock.

She had time to scream as the horses launched themselves across the terrible divide. Above her scream, the leader of her escort shattered the air with a piercing whistle.

In the instant before they smashed into the vast mountain wall, it ruptured, rock twisting and exploding before them. A gaping mouth opened, a black maw that roared with the sound of tearing stone. Laraas stomach rebelled, as if it had been wrenched sharply to the left, though her vision insisted she still rode straight ahead.

Hooves clattered against the caveas broad stony tongue, which angled down at a desperate degree, as if swallowing them. The horses barely slowed, finding their pace again as what had been a diamond of riders around Lara became a long line with her in the middle.

A road stretched before them, a narrow strip of stone leading down. Rock face shot upward on their right and plummeted on their left: one misstep would see her at the bottom of the very chasm theyad just leaped across. Lara dared a brief glance over her shoulder. There was no glimpse of the ledge theyad jumped from or the cavern theyad come through, only their thin road melding seamlessly back into the rock face. To their left, across the broad divide, rose the canyon side they had leaped from.

Lara, grateful that she didnat have to watch in order to stay safely on her horse, closed her eyes hard, and considered the possibility that the Seelie might be unable to find the Unseelie court if they were unwilling to be found.

She remembered, too, how the avenue leading to the Seelie citadel had also appeared only when they were already on it, apparently at will. They both seemed to be hidden people, Seelie and Unseelie alike, both inclined toward isolationism and the black and white boundaries it drew. She wondered how the two courts had even managed to communicate enough to make a bargain over their firstborn sons. She would have to ask Dafydd.

If she ever got the chance.

A new wave of nausea clenched her belly, fear rather than the twist of magic. Lara swallowed against it and raised her eyes to the path in front of them, shocked to see theyad nearly reached the bottom. Within seconds the leader disappeared, though not through magic this time: the road simply curved sharply at its base, delving deep into the rock.

They burst out its other side into a cavern so immense that Lara reined up her horse in awe, too goggle-eyed to care whether her escort disapproved.

The rock face theyad just ridden down had to be little more than a sh.e.l.l, so vast was its open interior. Walkways, most of them cordoned, ran up and down the walls, interrupted every few yards by balconies carved out of living stone. At the far end, distant enough to seem small, a waterfall crashed through the rock, its thunder a low comforting echo throughout the enormous chamber. Mist cooled the air, and the smaller sound of a river was nearer to where she sat astride, but the floor of the unending cavern was what held Laraas eyes.

A town of black mother-of-pearl spread out before her, oily rainbows scattered in its curves. At its heart was a palace, the Seelie citadelas ant.i.thesis, low and rambling, where the bone china city ran high and pale. They were both alien, both beautiful, both unwelcoming, both compelling. The leader of her escort barked an order for her to continue, and she edged her mount forward into the gleaming walkways with an eagerness that belied good sense.

Almost no one stood watching as they paced through the streets. A handful of children in bright colors; a handful of adults whose presence bespoke great age, though their faces were as youthful as any others. The rest had gone to war. Lara wondered if any of the children would lose a parent on the green battlefields. There was an emptiness to the city that reminded her of Emyras citadel, although she hadnat seen that stripped of its people. It seemed possible that both courts simply lacked some spark of life that gave their homes heart.

At the palace doora"there were no gates, simply a s.h.i.+ning courtyard that joined the town to its castlea"her escort dismounted. Lara stared at the ground, uncertain. Aerin hadnat mentioned whether shead be able to dismount if she wanted to, only that she couldnat fall off.

Maybe if she was certain not to fall. She grabbed the saddleas front with both hands, not caring how awkward she looked, and concentrated on swinging a leg over her horseas broad back, all her weight on one stirrup. The feeling of being pinned in place vanished, and she reached for the ground, dismayed at how far away it was before her toes finally made contact. Pleased with herself, she disentangled from the stirrup and stepped back to discover her eight guards all looking somewhere else, as if they were trying not to laugh.

A thought flew through her mind: this would be her best opportunity to attempt an escape. If, at least, she had a weapon, an idea how to use one, or a plan. She had none of those, and shrugged with resignation as the Unseelie mastered their expressions and fell in around her again, guiding her into, and through, the palace.

Gardens sprang up with the same regularity as they did in the Seelie citadel. These, though, were of metal and stone: trees had marble trunks and golden leaves, and vines of emerald wended their way around them. Sea-clear pebbles littered the garden floors, and when a nightingale sang, Lara was certain it was a mechanical wonder, and not a real bird. Her guard followed the path of a silver-bedded stream, its color that of a northerly ocean, as it fed into a pool set with the same silver s.h.i.+mmer.

A man stood before the pool. He was broader than Seelie men, partly in fact and partly thanks to the doublet he wore: heavier material than any of their costumes, with rounded stuffed seams at the shoulders. Practical, Lara thought; the cavernous city was chilly, cooled by the waterfall and perhaps by being too close to the surface to retain a steady temperature. The handsful of people whoad watched them come through the city had been similarly dressed.

But this man wore black, and it suited him. His hair was inky beneath an ebony and ruby circlet, and his skin golden in comparison to the pale Seelie. He held up a hand, and Lara instinctively obeyed the command, freezing in place.

Irritation swept her before he gave her permission to move. She made fists, surprised at how stiff her fingers were inside their metal casings, and walked forward. aWhat do you want with me?a The Unseelie king turned to face her, eyebrows elevated in surprise. He was handsome, Lara realized with her own small shock of surprise. More handsome by far than Emyr, whose coldness left its mark, and better-looking than Dafydd in a cla.s.sical sense, though she preferred Dafyddas angular lines. He studied her a moment, then bent to make a cup of his hands and scoop water into them. When he straightened, it was with a worked silver goblet in his hand, which he offer to her. aI am Hafgan ap Annwna"a Wind instruments shrieked objection, turning Laraas skin to ice beneath her armor. aYou are not.a The Unseelie king stopped midword, staring at her. Lara thrust out her jaw and glared back, anger flaring high enough that she hardly knew herself as she snapped, aI donat know who you are, but youare sure as h.e.l.l not Hafgan. Iam a truthseeker. Thereas really no point in lying to me.a A long silence met her accusation, ending, finally, in a twitch of the crowned manas eyebrows. aI had not meant to test you, but it seems I have done so regardless. I have been Hafgan for many centuries, Truthseeker. Long enough that even the oldest among us have forgotten that someone else once bore the name, and that he now lies above the salted earth and below the bitter sea. Drink,a he added more prosaically, aand I will do my best to explain. Drink,a he said again, when she hesitated. aYou must be thirsty.a As he said it, Lara became aware of how dry her throat was, how sticky her tongue was in her mouth. She scowled at the cup, determination very slightly greater than thirst. aWho are you?a The man sighed. aI am, and have been, for a very long time, the king of the Unseelie people. But once upon a time, and this is the name I think you seek, I was called Ioan ap Caerwyn, and I was the son of Emyr on the Seelie throne.a

Eighteen.

Laraas heartbeat thudded in her ears, drowning out all other sound. Thumped at her skin, for that matter, was.h.i.+ng away cold and replacing it with heat, but also bringing a static numbness to every inch of her body, as though shead received one shock too many and could no longer feel anything at all.

Truth, though, wouldnat let her go. Its power pecked at the numbness, soundless chimes cracking armor her mind needed, until it shattered and left her able to move, if not to think clearly. She shuffled forward and took the silver cup from the kingas hands, then drained it. The water was cold and bright-tasting, and the cup disappeared as she drank, until the last sip swallowed the last curve of silver and she was left staring at a trace of water on her gauntleted fingers. An insipid comment welled up, the only thing she could find to say: aThat was really cool.a Ioan smiled, a rueful expression that made him look much more human than any of the Seelie court. More human, even, than Dafydd, whoad had a century of pretending to be one. aMerely a trick so old that it no longer holds wonders for our kind.a Lara, still feeling dull-witted, said, aItas a good trick,a and pulled her helm off. She put it down by the pool, then sat beside it and stared toward the black pearl palace. Shock was good for one thing, at least: she had no fear left at all, only utter bewilderment. aWho was on the battlefield, then?a she asked eventually. aThe blond Unseelie, I mean.a aAnother trick. A glamour to dishearten Emyr, or so I hoped. I havenat looked like that for a long time.a Ioan sat beside her. Peculiar behavior, Lara thought, for a kidnapper and the leader of an enemy people.

aStart there,a she said after a while. Putting words, thoughts, together was taking a long time, but a sense of the absurd rose at the idea. The people of this world lived forever. A mortal taking a few minutes to sc.r.a.pe intelligent conversation together would hardly be noticed. aStart with being dark-haired and dark-eyed and golden-skinned. n.o.body in the Seelie citadel is. n.o.body at all.a aNor was I when I came here. I was as my seeming was, there on the battlefield, pale-skinned, light-eyed. I chose to become what my friends and family here were.a Ioan gestured to the far-distant cavern ceiling and to the myriad dwellings littered along the towering walls. aWe lived under the sky, once, and this land was known by another name.a aYou did? It did?a Lara bit her tongue as Ioan chuckled.

aWe did, and it did. It was called Annwn, which meant athe land beneath,a and I think once upon a time your people found your way here through fairy mounds and underground paths.a Uncomfortable truth left Laraas skin a mess of goose b.u.mps beneath her armor. aI wouldnat know. I donat like fairy tales.a Ioan gave her a strangely sympathetic glance, far gentler than the one Dafydd had given her when shead said the same thing to him. The unexpected kindness felt like a punch, and she looked away, searching for something else to say. Static was fading, leaving her thoughts clear, though she still felt as though shead been sent to an advanced cla.s.s in a subject she hadnat studied the basics of. aAnnwnas the name you said was yours. Hafgan ap Annwn. Your last name.a aMy fathera"Hafgan, not Emyra"would say that he had no last name, and that he simply was of Annwn. That word has become less than it was, though, and if it carries any meaning now, it is perhaps only athe people of the earth.a The Unseelie were once as fair as the Seelie. Theya"wea"lived on and worked the lowlands of the sea, and were colored silver and blue and gray and green, all the shades of water. But we have dwelled so long under the earth that it has stained us, and so Emyr named us Unseelie, the dark ones, and we took the name as our own.a Lara blurted aThatas not possiblea over the hum of truth in his words. aI mean, people donata"That would take generations of evolution. It doesnat work that way.a Amus.e.m.e.nt creased lines around Ioanas eyes. He scooped up another goblet full of water, offering it to her with a c.o.c.ked eyebrow. aAnd in your world, I think it doesnat work this way, either.a Lara stared at him, then, realizing she was still thirsty, accepted the cup and drank it into nothingness. aNo,a she said when it was only droplets on her gauntlets. aNo, it doesnat. And Iam having a hard time with that.a Shead questioned her talent more in the past twelve hours than she could remember doing in her life, though each time shead recognized the basic truth of the situation she faced. Dafydd had disappeared in front of her; the Unseelie had undergone physical change in a way that humans simply would not. Ioan himself had, evidently by choice.

For the first time, she felt a twist of compa.s.sion for those who didnat share her gift. I donat believe it had never been a phrase that made any sense to her, not when someone was confronted with irrefutable truth. Shead always been impatient with it, unable to understand why someone would deny what was real, even when the reality was terrible. If she could hold on to the fumbling sense of disbelief this world had confounded her with more than once, it might make her relations.h.i.+ps at home a little easier.

If she ever got home. Lara pressed cold metaled fingers against her mouth, and felt the weight of Ioanas hand on her armored shoulder.

aThis is Annwn, Truthseeker. These are the Barrow-lands. What governs your world does not hold true here. Best keep that in mind, if you can.a aYouare not what I expected,a Lara said distantly. Aerin had given her a similar warning, though about the people rather than the place itself. Hearing it echoed in the Unseelie kingas advice made her consider more sharply why shead agreed to come to the Barrow-lands. Kellyas teasing had been part of it, and Dafyddas appeal another part. But shead had no idea at all what she was agreeing to, and now Dafydd was missing and Lara had been taken from the people who ostensibly had a reason to protect her. She wasnat afraid, but neither did she imagine there was much she could do to help, anymore.

aI am not, or we are not?a aEither. Both. Youare not much like Emyr.a aMy father would have reminded you more of Emyr. He was of that generation, though life for our people is so long it scarcely seems it should matter.a Ioan studied the pool waters. aMy father might have known the answers I now seek, but the pain of lost Annwn drove him back to the sea long ago, and he left no secrets behind. Without him, I need your help, Truthseeker. Itas why I brought you here.a aBrought me, is that what you call it? Did it occur to you to ask, rather than kidnap me?a aNo,a Ioan said with shocking honesty. aHow might I have asked? In the midst of battle, or by hunting down Emyras citadel and knocking politely on the door? Emyr barely tolerates his own kind, much less Unseelie.a aYouare his son!a Ioan gestured at himself. aIf he saw me like this, he would reject me. He would say Iad turned my back on my people.a aWhich is true,a Lara said, startling herself. Extrapolation lay outside of her talents.

Or it had; Ioan gave her a wry look that suggested she was right. aWhy should I not? I was a child when I came here, and what I found, as I grew, were a people who had lost their history, lost their sense of selves. Legend that laid blame for that at Seelie feet.a aThe Seelie think all their problems are your fault, too. That youare overrunning their land.a aAnd perhaps somewhere in the middle lies the truth.a The words were a challenge. Laraas spine straightened, though her armor didnat permit much slumping. aIf I help you figure it out, are you going to let me go?a He, after a moment, bowed his head. aPerhaps.a Lara laughed, surprised at the truth for all that there was no point in him lying to her. aThatas not very convincing.a aI know.a He glanced up again, dark-eyed and earnest. Kelly, Lara thought, would find him incredibly attractive, although even Kellyas libido might stop short of falling for a man whoad kidnapped her. Lara felt her expression shadow at the thought, and watched Ioanas earnestness fade, as though he recognized he was playing his hand too far. aI would like to say Iad release you, but youad know if I lied. If you can help me find the clear path of our history, the truth is I may need you further.a aTo do what?a Lara lifted a hand. aWait. First tell me what you think happened in your past, and then tell me why you canat remember. I thought you were supposed to live forever.a aLiving forever doesnat mean remembering forever. The past fades as it does for mortal memory as well, but for us, it stretches so far back that our own lives become legend. Only a truthseeker can strip away the fog and tell us what truly happened.a aWhich you think is a?a aI believea"my people believea"that we were once, if not masters of this land, at least equals in its governing.a Ioan fell silent, leaving an air of expectation that Lara sighed into.

aAnd? Do you know what that answer sounds like, to me? It sounds like a half-tuned orchestra. The strings are groaning against each other and the wind instruments are creaking like theyare falling trees. Whatever it is youare not saying makes what you have said sound like a lie. Half-truths arenat enough.a Ioan pulled his face long, another expression that seemed more human than the Seelie usually indulged in. aVery well. We also believe it was Emyr, or his court, who called worldbreaking magic and drowned our lands and drove us underground.a Lara interrupted, aWorldbreaking magic.a Oisnas prophecy danced through her mind and sent hairs rising over her skin. If the power was something that lay outside her, it suggested there was some hope of returning home, rather than her very travel between worlds presenting a threat. aWhat kind of magic was that? How do you break a world?a aWith a weapon long since lost to us.a Ioan shrugged, hands spread in loss. aIf such a thing existed outside of legend, I think it can no longer be in Annwn. Iave searched,a he said more softly. aWhat can break a world can perhaps heal it as well. But without it, all we have are stories that say weave been persecuted by the Seelie for longer than memory allows us to recall. Without it, only a truthseekeras help may permit us to regain our rightful place in this world.a aOnly a truthseekeras help.a Something in the words stood out, making their obvious content so shallow as to be meaningless. Lara got to her feet, suddenly uncomfortable. aTell me what you mean by that.a aIf our legends are revealed as history, then Iall need a truthseekeras vision to turn the tide of war in my favor.a aEmyr mentioned that,a Lara said thinly. aThat truthseekers could say something and through force of will make it true.a aThe most powerful, yes. If your skill isnat that great, then I would give you maps of our lands so you might show me ahead of time where our enemy will strike, and give us the advantage.a Lara lifted her gaze to the far side of the pool. She heard music, not in Ioanas words, though his conviction rang there, too. No, it was a chime, a warning that seemed to start behind her heart and fill her chest. aAnd if your legends are just that? Legends? If thereas no lost worldbreaking magic, if the Unseelie are trespa.s.sers on Seelie land?a Ioanas silence drew out long enough to answer her without words. Laraas heartbeat fluttered, a b.u.t.terfly sensation that clawed her breath away. Her ears pounded with the relentless thin tone of bells, almost drowning out Ioanas eventual response. The words came slowly, as if he was only just coming to realize the truth: aIam sorry, Truthseeker, but I canat let you go.a A breath hissed through her teeth. aSo youare not such a good guy after all. Youare very reasonable, but not a good guy. I canat let you keep me.a She recognized the music now, recognized the feeling it built in her, though it had been far less intense in the forest outside the Seelie citadel. It rang so loudly a path appeared, striking its way through her heart and leading into the pool, where it reflected hard against silver stones.

aI think you cannot stop me.a Lara whispered, aBut I can,a and stretched out a hand toward the water. aThereas a true way through these woods. A true way home again.a Laughter akin to panic knotted itself in her throat, and she reached for the only phrase she could think of that would unlock a magical door: aOpen, Sesame!a A silver-shot door tore apart the bottom of the pool, water draining at a tremendous rate.

Lara dove in, leaving Ioanas shout of protest behind.

She hit muddy earth with a squelch, breath knocked away. Silence rang out around her, more than just a cessation of music. It had a quality that said an instant earlier the air had been full of voices and laughter, and that surprise had taken delight away.

She ached with the impact against the ground, armor jabbing her uncomfortably, but not badly enough to force her to move. For a brief eternity she lay where she was, facedown in damp earth, struggling for breath. She thought she might be glad to lie there forever, except an uncertain voice said, aLady, are you okay?a Lara flipped onto her back in a spray of wet sand. Sunlight burst in her eyes, blinding her before a ring of children leaned over her, curious faces blocking out the sun. A dozen or so, more children than shead seen in total within the Barrow-lands, and all of them with ordinary round human ears and varied skin tones and eyes that ranged from brown-black to pale blue.

aAre you okay?a a little boy asked again. He was dripping: all of the children were, despite the brilliant sunlight.

aI think so.a Lara sounded hoa.r.s.e, but no discordance rang with her answer, relief in itself. aWhere am I?a aThe farm park,a the boy said. aWheread you come from?a aFairyland,a Lara said without thinking, and a little girl smiled brilliantly.

aAre you wearing fairy clothes? Theyare all s.h.i.+ny!a aThatas armor, dummy,a the boy said scornfully. aLike the Power Rangers wear.a Lara sat up, the ring of children moving slightly to keep her surrounded. Sunlight glittered off a metal slide only a few feet away, her landing-place the sandbox at its foot. Swing sets and jungle gyms were strewn about, children arrested in their playing to watch the gathering around Lara. aThe farm park? Is that in Boston?a The little boy looked nonplussed. aWe live in Arlington. Are you crazy?a aI donat think so. Thank you for aa Lara trailed off, words lost under a barrage of fairyland questions from the girls and a growing interest in her possible insanity from the boys. Her hand went to her hip, looking for a cell phone that was still back in her office at Lord Matthewas. She encountered an empty scabbard instead, and dismay seized her. aI really must look like Iam from fairyland.a The children scattered as running footsteps heralded an adultas arrival. Lara lurched to her feet in time to be greeted by a scowling, worried woman who snapped the children farther away before demanding, aWhere did you come from? A pool full of water fell out of the sky, and then you did. I didnat seen aa"an airplane?a She looked skyward, and Lara did, too, remembering urban legends shead read about scuba divers found in the middle of forest fires, dropped there by helicopters scooping seawater to battle the fires with. She wished she had a similar story to explain away her arrival.

aIam not sure how I got here. Iam sorry, but could I possibly borrow a cell phone?a she asked, abruptly hoping she could brazen it out. aI left mine at work yesterday.a The little girl grabbed the womanas hand. aI think sheas magic, Mommy. She says she was in fairyland.a Lara winced, painfully aware that abeing in fairylanda sounded like a euphemism for drug use. The woman pursed her lips, looking Lara up and down, then wordlessly drew a cell phone out of her purse and offered it. aThank you,a Lara whispered, and edged out of the sandbox to sit on the bottom of the slide as she dialed the only phone number she had memorized.

aLord Matthewas Bespoke Tailoring Shop. This is Cynthia, how may I help you?a aOh thank goodness, Cynthia.a Lara laughed in relief. aThis is Lara. Iave had the most incredibly strange night, and Iall tell you about it, but right now I was wondering if you could grab my jeans and s.h.i.+rt from yesterday and bring them to, um, the Arlington farm park? I really need a change of clothes.a aLara?a Cynthiaas voice cracked, then turned angry, clas.h.i.+ng with the sound of bells. aThis isnat funny. Who is this?a aItasa"What? This is Lara, Cynthia. Lara Jansen. How many other Laras do you know?a aI donat know who the h.e.l.l you think you are, but call this number again and Iall report you to the police,a Cynthia snapped. aLara Jansen disappeared seventeen months ago.a

Nineteen.

The phone went dead, leaving Lara to stare sightlessly across the playground. Details filtered in, unattached from active recognition: things shead noticed without thinking about them. The children wore shorts, T-s.h.i.+rts, sandals. The sun was high in the sky, pouring warmth over the city. There was no cold breeze, no slush, no leaden gray skies. The only dampness was in a ring around her.

Lara handed the phone back. aItas summer, isnat it.a The woman gave her an odd look. aYes.a It had been winter when shead left. Lara nodded, the action mechanical. aThank you. And thank you for letting me borrow your phone.a aYouare welcome.a The woman put her hand on her daughteras shoulder and drew her away.

Lara watched them go, Cynthiaas angry words cutting through the rush of white static in her mind. Lara Jansen disappeared seventeen months ago. Tones of truth in the statement, deep melancholy bells that rang out slowly.