Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [3]
Rhys came to stand at the foot of the bed. His curly white hair, which fell to his waist, was still back in the ponytail he’d worn to match his own jeans and t-shirt. His face was very solemn. It wasn’t like him. Once he’d been Cromm Cruach, and before that he’d been a god of death. He wouldn’t tell me who, but I had enough hints to make guesses. He’d told me that Cromm Cruach was god enough; he didn’t need more titles.
“Who gets to challenge him to the duel?” Rhys asked.
“Meredith has told me no,” Doyle said.
“Oh, good,” Rhys said. “I get to do it.”
“No,” I said, “and I thought you were afraid of Taranis.”
“I was, maybe I still am, but we can’t let this go, Merry, we can’t.”
“Why? Because your pride is hurt?”
He gave me a look. “Give me more credit than that.”
“I will challenge him, then,” Sholto said.
“No,” I said. “No one is to challenge him to a duel, or to kill him in any other way.”
The three men looked at me. Doyle and Rhys knew me well enough to be speculative. They knew I had a plan. Sholto didn’t know me that well yet. He was just angry.
“We can’t let this insult stand, Princess. He has to pay.”
“I agree,” I said, “and since he brought in the human lawyers when he charged Rhys, Galen, and Abeloec with attacking one of his nobles, we use the human law. We get his DNA, and we charge him with my rape.”
Sholto said, “And what, he will risk jail time? Even if he would allow himself to be put in human jail, it would not be enough punishment for what he has done to you.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s the best we can do under the law.”
“Human law,” Sholto said.
“Yes, human law,” I said.
“Under our laws,” Doyle said, “we are within our right to challenge him and slay him.”
“That works for me,” Rhys said.
“I’m the one he raped. I’m the one who is about to be queen, if we can keep our enemies from killing me. I say what Taranis’s punishment will be.” My voice grew a little strident at the end, and I had to stop and take a breath, or two.
Doyle’s face betrayed nothing. “You have thought of something, My Princess. You are already planning how this will help our cause.”
“Help our court. For centuries the Unseelie Court, our court, has been painted black in the human world. If we have a public trial accusing the king of the Seelie Court of rape, we will finally convince the humans that we are not the villains of the piece,” I said.
Doyle said, “Spoken like a queen.”
“Like a politician,” Sholto said, and not like it was a compliment.
I gave him the look he deserved. “You’re a king, too, of your father’s people. Would you destroy your entire kingdom for vengeance?”
He looked away, then, and there was that line to his face that showed his temper. But as moody as Sholto was, he didn’t hold a candle to Frost. He had been my moody boy.
Rhys came to the bedside. He touched my hand, the one to which the IV needle was taped. “I would face the king for you, Merry. You know that.”
I took my free hand and held his, and met that one blue-ringed eye. “I don’t want to lose anyone else, Rhys. No more of that.”
“Frost is not dead,” Rhys said.
“He is a white stag, Rhys. Someone told me that he may only keep that shape for a hundred years. I am thirty-three and mortal. I will not see a hundred and thirty-three years. He may return as the Killing Frost, but it will be too late for me.” My eyes burned, my throat grew tight, and my voice squeezed out, “He will never hold his baby. He will never be a father to it. His babe will be grown before he has hands to hold it with, and a human mouth to speak of love and fatherhood.” I lay back against the pillows and let the tears take me. I held onto Rhys’s hand and let myself cry.
Doyle came to stand beside Rhys, and laid his hand against my face. “If he had known that you would grieve him most, he would have fought it more.”
I blinked back the tears, and gazed up at that dark face. “What do you mean?”
“It came to