Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [101]
“I do not mean an overt attack,” Doyle said. “I just mean our people’s sense of…humor.”
“Humor,” Walters said. “What does that mean?”
“It means that the fey enjoy poking at anything new. This many of our good men and women of the military would be almost irresistible to a certain number of our populace.”
“What he means,” Rhys said, “is that we have a lot of gawkers, but they’re fey so you won’t see them. But we know they’re there. They might have a hard time resisting luring some of your soldiers off the beaten track, just to see if they could do it.”
“Your people came as close to war on American soil as they’ve ever come tonight. I would think you all risking getting kicked out might make them more serious.”
I shook my head. “The sidhe, perhaps, but there are a lot more people here than the sidhe. Besides, Captain, it was the Seelie who were threatening to make war, not the sluagh, not the Unseelie. The only court that was in danger of breaking the treaty was the Seelie.”
“Yeah, and the last time we all had a little battle, it wasn’t a war because they were monsters of faerie, and not any of the other courts,” Walters said, but his voice was a little dry.
I shivered. Strangely, I wasn’t really chilled from the cold. Apparently, my growing power, or perhaps my men’s, was keeping me warm. But Walters didn’t know that, and if I acted cold, we might speed things up, and get us to a plane and the hell out of here.
Captain Page said, “Let’s get the princess inside where it’s warmer.”
Walters nodded and said, “Fine.” But he looked at me, suspicion plain on his face. What had I done to earn that look? Oh, wait, kept more secrets from him than I’d shared, and endangered his men the last time. I hadn’t meant the endangering part, but I had kept secrets from him. I was hiding a lot, and still asking them all to risk themselves for me and my men. Was that fair? No, not in the least. But if it would get us out safely, I’d endanger them all.
I admitted that to myself, but I didn’t like myself very much for it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RHYS CURLED MY ARM THROUGH HIS, AND LEANED IN TO TALK to me as we walked. Doyle had my other arm, so he could hear. Though, frankly, with the superior hearing of the sidhe, Mistral and Sholto could probably hear too. The point was that the soldiers we walked through did not hear.
I’d expected Sholto to fight to keep my arm, but he had graciously and uncomplainingly let Rhys take his place. Then he’d dropped back like a good bodyguard beside Mistral. Sholto was most agreeable for a king.
Most of the soldiers gave us eye flicks and tried not to stare, but some didn’t bother being subtle. They stared as we walked past. Most of us looked like something out of a movie. Doyle’s more modern suit was hidden under a gray cloak that looked like something out of a Dickens novel. Mistral had simply fastened the neck of his blue and fur cloak so that one got glimpses of his bare chest as he moved. Sholto had chosen a white coat that looked like a cross between a trench coat and an officer’s coat from World War II. It hid the very unmodern clothes, so that he, of all of us, could have walked out into a crowd and been the least noticeable.
I realized that Sholto usually dressed to blend in, wherever he was. He dressed appropriately, if he could. I guess when you spend your life with your body so out of the ordinary, you don’t want clothes to set you apart.
“Why are you wearing a uniform?” I asked.
Rhys asked, “Don’t you remember what duty you gave me?” He looked far too serious.
“You had Gran’s blood on your clothes,” I said.
He nodded.
Doyle leaned across and asked, “But why did you not get clothes from the Unseelie Court, or your own house?”
Rhys was one of the few sidhe who had his own house away from faerie. He’d said that the magic interfered with television reception, and he liked his movies. Frankly, I think it was to get some privacy. Though he did love movies.
“How much time do you think has passed?” he asked.