Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [50]
That long tentacle touched the last glowing shreds of the magic, and suddenly there was a man-sized version of the tentacled creature. All the other things that had formed from the magic had been animals: dogs, horses, pigs. But this was obviously a baby of what clung to the ceiling.
The tentacles on the ceiling gave a glad cry, which echoed in the hall and made some flinch, but most smile. The huge tentacle picked up the smaller version, and lifted it to the ceiling. The tentacled creature that I had no name for clung to the larger tentacle and made small happy sounds.
Sholto turned a tearstained face to me. “She has been alone so very long. The Goddess does still love us.”
I put an arm around him, a hand on Mistral. “The Goddess loves us all, Sholto.”
“The Queen has been the face of the Goddess for so long, Meredith, and she has no love of anyone.”
In my head, I thought, “She loves Cel, her son.” Out loud I said only, “I love.”
He kissed me on the forehead, ever so gently. “I’d forgotten what it was to be loved.”
I did the only thing I could. I went up on tiptoe and kissed him. “I will remind you.” I gave him all that he needed to see in my face as I gazed up at him, but part of me was wondering where the healer was. I was going to be queen, and that meant that no one person was so dear as all of them. I was having one of those moments now. I was happy that Sholto was happy, and happier for his people and the return of so much, but I wanted Mistral to live. Where was the healer while the miracles of the Goddess were happening?
The nightflyers poured back from the far tunnel. “They will have the healer with them,” Sholto said, as if he’d read my doubts in my face. There was a sadness around the edges of his happiness. He knew that he would never be my one and only. I was queen, and even more than most, my loyalties were divided among my people.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I EXPECTED TO SEE ONE OF THE SLUAGH WITH THE NIGHTFLYERS, but it was a man. He looked human, though he had a large hump on his back. He was handsome, with short brown hair, and a smiling face. He had a black doctor’s bag with him.
I looked at Sholto.
“He is human, but he has been with us too long to set foot on mortal soil.”
Humans could come to faerie and never age, but if they ever went back, all the years they’d cheated would come upon them all at once. Once you stayed in faerie any length of time, you could never go back, not and be truly human.
“He was a doctor before he came, but he has studied long in faerie. He will heal your Storm Lord if anyone here can.”
I realized that I’d touched Mistral’s body only through his clothes for a time. I moved so I could see his face, and what I saw was not a comfort. His normally shining white skin was almost as gray as his hair. Some of the sidhe, myself included, could change their skin color with glamour, but this pasty gray was not that.
Had the Goddess distracted me with magic, only to let me lose one of my kings? Surely not.
The healer said, “King Sholto and Princess Meredith, I am honored to serve.” But it was a cursory greeting. His brown eyes were already looking more at the patient than at us. That was fine with me. He felt for Mistral’s pulse with one well-groomed hand. His handsome face was very serious, and his eyes had that distant listening quality.
He touched one of the partially healed wounds. “My king, some magic has healed his wounds, but he is still very ill. What made these wounds?”
“Arrows tipped with cold iron,” Sholto said.
The healer pursed his lips, and ran his hands quickly over Mistral. “Let us find a room where I can tend him properly.”
“We will take him to my room,” Sholto said.
The healer looked startled for a moment, then simply said, “As my king wills it.” He began to walk back toward the tunnel from which he’d entered.
Sholto said, “Meredith, follow the doctor.”
I started to argue that I wanted to be able to see Mistral, but something in Sholto’s face made me simply nod. I followed