Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [136]
“Would you let them die for pride’s sake?” I asked.
“We are goblins,” Holly said. “We do not heal anything. We slaughter and destroy. It is what we are, and the treaty that brought us to America so long ago stole us away from ourselves. There is no room for goblins anymore.”
I stumbled as I got to my feet, stepping on the hem of my coat. Holly laughed at me, but I didn’t care. I knew something. I got it. Knew it; understood it. I wasn’t even certain in that moment what “it” was, but the compulsion of it moved me toward the twins. It kept me walking across the winter grass, the frosted weeds making a dry sound against the leather of my coat.
Doyle came to my side. “Have a care, my Merry.”
He was right to be cautious, but the feeling inside me was right, too. The scent of flowers rode the air, as if a breath of summer’s heat trickled across the cold moonlight.
Rhys came to our side and touched Doyle’s arm. “The Goddess is near, Doyle. It will be all right.”
I kissed Doyle first, and he had to bend down to help me do it, then I kissed Rhys. He looked at me, and there was sadness on his face. But it was not a sadness that I could fix. I could only kiss him gently on the lips, and let him know that I saw him and appreciated him, but nothing that either of us could do would make me love him the way I loved Doyle or Frost. That it pained him pained me, but not enough to change it.
I walked the rest of the way alone. Ash and Holly stood in front of me. They tried to look arrogant or hostile—their handsome faces were made for both—but under all of it was uncertainty. I made them rethink themselves, and neither sidhe nobles nor goblin warriors are accustomed to rethinking anything. Their sense of rightness is absolute in most things. I gazed into their eyes, and wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but as the scent of roses grew stronger on the cold air, I knew the Goddess was coming. The scent of roses mingled with the rich scent of herbs and leaves, as if we stood on the edge of some forest glade.
“Do you smell flowers?” Holly asked.
“I smell forest,” Ash said. “A forest like nothing in this land.”
“What are you doing to us?” Holly asked.
“You wanted to be sidhe.” I held my hands out to them.
“Yes,” Ash said.
“No,” Holly said.
I smiled at Holly. “You both want power, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Holly said, his voice a little reluctant.
“Then each of you take my hands.”
“What happens if we do?” Ash asked.
I smiled, then I laughed, and the scent of roses and the sensation of summer sun on my skin was so real that it was almost dizzying to have my eyes see the winter’s dark.
“I don’t know what will happen,” I said, and that was the truth.
“Then why should we do it?” Ash asked.
“Because if you let the smell of summer and autumn fade, if you miss this moment of power, you will always wonder what would have happened if you took my hands.”
The brothers looked at each other. They had a moment between them made up of years of scheming, fighting, surviving, all come to this second, this choice.
“She’s right,” Ash said.
“It is a sidhe trick,” Holly said.
“Probably,” he said, then he smiled.
Holly grinned back at him. “This is a bad idea, brother.”
“Yes.”
Holly reached out, and Ash echoed him. They reached out for my hands as if they’d practiced the movement. Their fingers tingled power down my skin, and it must have felt the same for them, because Holly started to draw back.
Ash said, “Don’t stop, Holly.”
“This is a bad idea, brother,” he repeated.
“This is power,” Ash said, “and I want it.”
Holly hesitated a heartbeat longer, then his hand moved with his brother’s so that they took my hands in theirs in echoing moves. “I’ve followed you all my life,” he said. “I won’t stop now.”
Then the field and the winter’s cold were gone, and we stood in a circle of standing stones on a wide plain under a full moon and a summer’s spill of stars.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
ASH SWUNG ME AROUND SO THAT I FACED AWAY FROM HIM, ONE hand on my throat, the other around my waist, pinning my sword to my body. Holly