Grave Destiny Page 4

  “If the queen is requesting my presence, it sounds like I’ll be raising these shades one way or another. I don’t think there is anything we need to negotiate,” I said, turning to Dugan. Which kind of sucked. Dugan had mentioned paying me—the queen was unlikely to make such an offer and I would have to negotiate carefully to get any form of compensation for the rituals. Tongues for the Dead really needed the business, especially if I was going to end up doing it regardless.

  The prince frowned and shook his head. “If you are not working for the shadow court, you will not report back what you learn. We still wish to hire you.”

  “No,” Falin said.

  “Why not?” I asked, looking between them. “Nothing I do can influence the testimony of a shade. It doesn’t matter who hires me. Shades are incapable of deception. They have no will. They are just memories.”

  “Your line of questioning could be biased,” Falin said.

  Which was the opening I needed. “What if both winter and shadow hired me equally?”

  “How could it ever be equal? You are apparently betrothed to him.” Falin spat the words like they’d rotted between forming and being spoken. Yeah . . . That was going to be a fun conversation later.

  “And she is a member of your court, but I can trust her to be impartial.” The words were a dig, as if Dugan, who barely knew me, trusted me more than Falin. They were cleverly worded too—he’d said he could trust me, not that he did trust me to be impartial.

  Of course, that trust was unwarranted on a personal level—I had no true connection or loyalty to Dugan or the shadow court, but they were justified professionally. As I’d said, shades couldn’t lie, and regardless of whether one or both courts hired me, I’d look for the truth. Falin knew me well enough to know as much.

  “If you trust her impartiality, then why insist shadow be the court to hire her?”

  Muscles above Dugan’s jaw bulged, but when he spoke, his voice was a carefully controlled neutral. “Because we wish to be kept apprised of the situation.” Dugan leaned back in his chair. “When I came here, I assumed our fae had been taken against his will, murdered, and dumped in winter territory. I am not yet convinced that is an unlikely scenario. I know the fae in question, and I can think of no reason he would have to enter winter, let alone attempt to assassinate a winter noble. But whether he entered on his own or was taken against his will, we need to know the players involved. Was this an isolated grudge? Or is a conspiracy at hand? Either way, we need proof that our court was not behind it, and proof of who is if it is a conspiracy.”

  “You think you are being set up?” I asked.

  Dugan cocked his head to the side, and I thought he was considering my words until I realized he was simply trying to parse out my phrasing. Dugan was a very old fae who didn’t interact with the human realm often. That was hard to remember when looking at a face that appeared not much older than my own.

  “I mean that you think someone might be trying to create tension between shadow and winter,” I clarified, and Dugan nodded.

  “The king was . . . very displeased to hear of the death. The knowledge added stress he did not need.”

  I considered that statement. Fae rarely gave an entire answer to a question, and if I read between the lines, I could guess that it wasn’t just fear that the Winter Queen would declare war that had Dugan in my office. There was a risk that the Shadow King might have felt forced to take action against winter if his man had been kidnapped and killed.

  “When I asked you earlier if you had a suspect, you said possibly. Who were you thinking about?” I asked.

  Beside me, Falin huffed under his breath. “How can he have a suspect if he didn’t even know the circumstances of the murder? His fae is the suspect.”

  Dugan scowled at him, but all he said was, “The inner courts have very little reason to quarrel with the seasonal courts.”

  And that was what I meant by not fully answering a question.

  From what I understood of Faerie’s hierarchy, the seasonal courts spent the year waxing and waning in power, but light and shadow, having no direct doors to the mortal realm, were outside such struggles. Which would explain why the seasonal courts and the courts of light and shadow rarely found points of contention. The high court would be one of the inner courts as well, but considering I couldn’t find easy access to enter the high court, or any members of the high court, it didn’t seem like the citizens of the high court interacted with the rest of Faerie, so I guessed he didn’t suspect anyone from that court. That left the court of light. I knew only one fae with ties to the light court.

  “Do you think Ryese . . . ?” I started, looking at Falin.

  He shook his head. “The son of the Queen of Light is banished from these lands. We would know if he entered our territory.”

  Well, there went that idea. Ryese, who was not only the Light Queen’s son, but also the Winter Queen’s nephew, had made his play to try to overthrow his aunt recently. He’d very nearly succeeded. All of his known associates were dead or banished, but he might still have sympathizers inside the winter court. As long-lived as fae were, they had a lot of time to create histories, friendships, and feuds.

  I clasped my hands, steepling my fingers as I thought. Something occurred to me and I turned to Falin. “How did you find out Dugan entered winter’s territory?”

  “A call came in to FIB headquarters that the prince was seen passing through the Bloom.”

  Surprise followed by suspicion crossed Dugan’s face. “That is not possible. I have gone nowhere near the Eternal Bloom nor the door to the winter court.”

  “Then how did you get here?” Falin asked, and it was his turn to sound suspicious.

  Dugan’s gaze flickered toward me, the glance quick, but I doubted Falin missed it. “Through more neutral territory.”

  So somewhere I’d merged the planes in the past. Sadly, there were several spots in Nekros that described at this point. The largest was in my father’s mansion, but considering the fact that Dugan said he hadn’t spoken to my father recently, I was guessing he’d found another spot.

  “The Bloom is in the center of the Magic Quarter, only a few blocks from here. Perhaps someone saw you and assumed . . .” I trailed off as he shook his head.

  “I am the Prince of Shadows and Secrets. No one saw me come here.” He seemed genuinely insulted that I’d suggested it. Then his intense gaze fixed on Falin. “If your informant said I was at the Eternal Bloom, how did you find me here so quickly?”

  Falin scowled at him, but I knew the answer. When Falin had burst through my door, he hadn’t expected to find Dugan.

  “He came to secure me,” I said, because it seemed obvious enough. Either as a friend or because I was an asset of the Winter Queen, getting me somewhere safe when a perceived threat from Faerie had crossed into the territory had been one of Falin’s priorities. After all, he didn’t know I’d had contact with the shadow court—and Dugan in particular—several times in the last few months, but he did know that the king had made a play to secure me as a planeweaver for his court once before in an act that was near equal parts rescue and kidnapping.

  “So, we have two bodies in the winter court, who appear to have killed each other, but you”—I nodded to Dugan—“say the shadow fae had no orders to be there, and to your knowledge, no reason to want to kill a noble in winter. Your court heard whispers about the death before the bodies were even found, but with limited details as if the news were designed to inspire a knee-jerk reaction. And someone reported Dugan’s entrance into Nekros to you”—this time I nodded at Falin—“except the information passed on to you was clearly false. It was effective in getting you here, though. Did your agent get the identity of the informant?”

  Falin ran a thumb along his jaw before shaking his head. “I’ll have to check what information was logged, but I don’t think so. If you were never
near the Bloom, then that would make the message relayed to me a blatant lie.”

  Which meant the caller had to be human. Fae couldn’t lie—bend the truth until the listener was convinced up was down, sure. But they couldn’t outright lie.

  “A changeling, maybe?” I asked, and Falin looked thoughtful. “Whoever it was, the lie certainly adds some weight to the fact that there might be more going on here than what it appears.”

  Both men gave grim nods. Of course the queen wasn’t known for her patience or levelheadedness—granted, all of my interactions with her had been while she’d been being slowly poisoned into madness. I was told she was saner now, but I could easily imagine her declaring war or demanding recompense for her lost noble based solely on the appearance of the scene. Which meant Falin needed to get to Faerie soon and lead the real investigation, and it sounded like I was going with him, at least for part of it. I glanced at Dugan before turning to face Falin.

  “Would the queen allow me to question the shades with Prince Dugan present?”

  “He is an untrustworthy element who should not be within winter’s territory until this matter is resolved.”

  I frowned at him. “Dugan in particular or all shadow fae? Because from what he’s said, this isn’t an attack on the winter court. Not one initiated by him at least. He has very plainly stated that his goal here is to prevent war.”

  I could almost hear Falin’s teeth grinding, but to his credit, he considered it. Finally he said, “There are nefarious ways to prevent war.”

  I wanted to throw my hands in the air in frustration. “What, do you think he sent his fae into the court so that he could demand to see the body in person and once he was allowed into the icy halls he plans to assassinate the queen?”

  Falin didn’t answer.

  Dugan rubbed his thumb and fingers over his mouth, and I wondered if he was trying to wipe away the desire to smile at my frustration. “If it helps,” he said, “as I have already stated, neither the king nor I sent Kordon to the winter halls. He was a quiet fae, and rather peaceful for a goblin. He was a masterful shadow-crafter who rarely left his workshop. I’ve known him since I was a boy, and I can’t imagine any reason he would try to assassinate a winter noble. I’m not sure how he would even know one of your nobles.”

  Falin frowned at him. “Tonight the longest night of the year begins. All doors in Faerie will open to the winter court so we can join together to celebrate the changing of the seasons. Faerie will enact the ancient truce that binds all her residents during solstices and equinoxes. Will your right of open roads last until sunset?”

  Dugan nodded. “And for several hours after.”

  “Then with your oath that you intend no harm to the winter court, and will attack no member of our court, I will allow you to accompany us.”

  I blinked at Falin in surprise. “Not that I’m complaining, but how did you just go from planning to try to kill him when he walked out this door to inviting him to go to a murder scene?”

  “If he hasn’t violated the pacts in open roads, then technically, he can remain in our territory. I’d rather have him where I can keep an eye on him than let him wander around alone. Considering he will be invited into our lands in a few hours, I am only offering to extend the truce a short time.”

  “And what reassurances will you offer me that this is a true invitation, and not a trick to let you drag me before your queen with no resistance?” Dugan asked, studying the other man.

  I turned my exasperated glare on the prince. They couldn’t make this easy, could they? Of course, anytime I went to court, I feared for my own freedom, so I couldn’t exactly blame Dugan. A prince would make a good captive if war was imminent.

  “I can make no promises on behalf of the queen, but I can give my oath that, short of a contradictory command from my queen, I will cause you no harm as long as you do not violate the hospitality of the court.” Falin turned to me. “But before I do, we need to reach an agreement with you. If we are both to hire you, it must be equally. Again, I cannot bargain on the behalf of the queen, but I can hire you for the FIB.”

  That worked for me. I glanced at Dugan, and when he didn’t protest, I retrieved a client contract from my desk. The standard form needed quite a bit of augmentation. We ended up with a contract that included both a ritual for two shades, as well as hourly rates for investigation since I was apparently going to the scene whether I wanted to or not. I tacked on a hefty hazard fee per hour in Faerie, though I didn’t call it that. I tried to keep the guarantees in the contract as loose as possible—I had to raise the shades, but I didn’t have to solve the murders. There was a small financial penalty if I walked away from the case. I would only get paid for half my time if the case went unsolved and I was the one who decided to stop investigating, but I wasn’t bound to keep investigating until it was solved. That was an important clause Falin suggested. I’d have to remember it. I didn’t want to accidentally lock myself permanently into a case that couldn’t be solved. Either man could, of course, decide not to fund any more hours after the initial contracted amount at any time whether I had solved the case or not, but I wouldn’t be penalized for the hours I’d already worked as long as I could prove they’d been billable hours.

  I read back over what we had. It looked good. I’d be paid more than fairly and didn’t see any snags I could get magically tangled in, but there was one more thing I wanted to try to get in the contract.

  “On top of monetary compensation, I want answers to three questions, asked at a time of my choosing.” Because if this case didn’t work out in a way that forced my father to tell me how to reach the high court, it would be helpful to have a way to ask Dugan about it without winding up in his debt.

  Dugan frowned. “I would happily pay a higher rate to forgo such a bargain.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a drawstring bag. “I brought this as payment.”

  I stared at the little bag dubiously, but accepted it when he handed it to me. I let my senses stretch, reaching with my ability to sense magic. Nothing. So probably benign. Opening the bag, I dumped the contents onto my palm. Four gold coins, a ruby the size of my pinky nail, and an iridescent pink pearl.

  “Uh . . .” Bartering. Fae negotiate and barter. I had no idea what these treasures were worth, but I was guessing a hell of a lot more than my retainer. If the coins were solid gold, they could always be melted down, but while I didn’t recognize the figurehead stamped into them, I was guessing that the coins were even more valuable as they were than their base metal worth. The pearl was perfectly round and nearly glowed it had so much luster. I’d need an appraiser, and to find a buyer, before I could figure out how much of my fees it covered and how much I’d need to return.

  And then there was the ruby.

  It was flawless, a vibrant red, and expertly faceted, which no doubt made it very valuable to a jeweler. It was even more valuable to a witch. A simple probe with my senses proved that it was capable of storing massive amounts of raw Aetheric energy or just about any spell. Magically speaking, it was more valuable than anything I’d ever owned aside from my enchanted dagger.

  I put the coins and pearl back into the bag and held up the ruby. “I would be willing to accept this along with the questions in trade for the price of the retainer and . . .” I scrambled, trying to come up with a reasonable number of hours. If I quoted too few, I’d be offering a very bad deal. Too many, and I’d have to refund him cash if I didn’t end up using them all. Considering that I wanted to keep the ruby, so only Falin’s portion of my fees would actually go toward the operating expenses of the firm, I definitely couldn’t afford to refund him money. “Fifteen hours,” I finally said. I would be getting the better end of the deal, but it was probably fair-ish.

  Dugan held up a hand. “Keep everything in the purse and no questions or answers.”

  That would be a really good financial deal for me. Havin
g gone nearly a month without clients, Tongues for the Dead seriously needed some income. But the cash flow issues were hopefully temporary. I needed to find a teacher or I was going to end up maiming myself.

  “The ruby and two questions for ten hours,” I said, since bargaining required compromise. I couldn’t imagine one question would be worth five hours of my rate, but that was for him to decide. Besides, if he went for it, that still gave me an initial and a follow-up question. Not terrible.

  Dugan’s frown deepened. “Keep the coins and the ruby . . . and one question, for seven hours.”

  For a stunned second, I didn’t respond at all. I had a moment of wondering if I’d misunderstood, but no, he just put a hell of a lot more value on secrets than I did. He didn’t even know what the questions were yet—they could be perfectly benign ones he would have answered anyway. But if avoiding being contractually bound to answer questions was more valuable to him than precious gems and metals, that was his prerogative. Of course, it was also possible Dugan had no idea the value of local mortal currency and I was more or less taking advantage, but he seemed fairly knowledgeable about the human world for a fae who wasn’t supposed to visit it, and he was a big boy who could have asked about exchange rates or whatever if he needed.

  Schooling my face to neutral, I looked to Falin. “That sound acceptable?”

  “That bargain is between you two. If that is what you both decide is fair, then fine.” He shrugged. “Me, I’m paying with the ever-popular agency credit card.”

  I almost laughed at that, catching the sound at the last minute and smothering my smile. We took a few minutes to finalize and sign the contract, and then the two men exchanged another oath that ensured that the truce between them would last beyond my office—thank goodness. With that done, there was nothing else to do but head to Faerie.