Hunter's Oath Read online

  I shook his hand carefully.

  “I’m Kilkenny, yes,” I allowed. “I’m your ride to the Manor.”

  “Of course, of course,” he replied. “Do you have space for my friends?”

  “Of course, Lord Andrell,” I echoed back to him. “If you have all your luggage, you can follow me.”

  The Escalade might have seemed ridiculously over the top to me, but my passengers clearly took it as their due, readily loading their suitcases into the back of the SUV. They also took a moment, shielded by Lord Andrell’s glamors, to each open their suitcase and remove a magically concealed shoulder holster.

  The guns had at least traveled unloaded, and the magazines they loaded them with didn’t contain cold iron. I’d have felt more comfortable if my new passengers weren’t all armed, but I wasn’t hypocritical enough to say anything.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t have a cold-iron-loaded revolver in the driver’s-side door, after all. Any reasonable Canadian would have been horrified at the amount of hardware suddenly present in my SUV…but even I was probably more dangerous than my gun, and I was the least threatening person in the vehicle.

  “I do wish I’d known Mellie had a child,” Andrell told me softly as we drove through the city. “She had many friends back home, and I don’t think any of us knew you existed, Jason. Until Her Majesty told me you’d be greeting me and I looked you up, I didn’t realize what had happened to her.”

  “She made her choices,” I replied carefully. My mother had been dead for a long time now—car accidents were no gentler on changelings than they were on regular humans. Before her death, however, she’d never told me anything to suggest that we weren’t perfectly normal. For whatever reason, my mother had left fae culture behind when she moved to the United States and raised me as a normal human.

  “That she did,” Andrell confirmed. “And I’m sure she had her reasons. Your mother was a smart woman. And your reputation, Jason, precedes you.”

  I snorted.

  “I doubt I have much of a reputation,” I pointed out. “I think I may be the only changeling whose Fealty is held by a member of the High Court, but beyond that…”

  The Unseelie Lord chuckled.

  “That was enough, once our Queen told me about you,” he said. “The very polite email I got from Kenneth MacDonald was fascinating, though.”

  I said nothing in response to that. What could I say? I hadn’t even been certain that the Wizard had known about Andrell’s arrival.

  “Magus MacDonald has made it very clear that he regards you as being under his protection and that he will protect the neutrality of Her Majesty’s servants in this city,” the Lord told me. “Some minor matter about saving his life?”

  He waited for me to answer.

  “I was one of many,” I finally told him. “This last winter was complicated. The city is still unsettled.”

  If he took that as criticism of his timing on trying to start a new Fae Court there, well, it was indirect enough to be safe.

  “I know,” he allowed. “Laurie’s death was unfortunate. Justified, yes, but it drew the attention of the Unseelie Lord to the concerns of our people in this city, ruled over by a Seelie Lord. That, Jason, is why I am here.

  “If the Unseelie in this city want to start a war, they will go through me to do it,” he said calmly. “But if the Seelie in this city want to execute my people, they will have to prove the need to me. That is the nature of the Courts of our people. How it should be.

  “How it will be.”

  I shivered and turned my focus back to the road. The Unseelie Hag Laurie had tried to kill me, repeatedly, in the service of the conspiracy against the Wizard. Her betrayal had nearly destroyed the Fae Court—and the confession Lord Oberis had forced from her had helped undo the entire conspiracy.

  But it was the nature of fae to be clannish. We protected our own first. The Unseelie, it seemed, felt that Lord Oberis had been regarding the Seelie as his own…and the Unseelie as not.

  If my car was what our Unseelie guests had been expecting, the Manor, Eric’s bar, was…not.

  I’d seen the Manors in about twenty North American cities before I’d reached Calgary, and Eric’s bar was pretty low-class even by that standard. The only real requirement was that a Manor had to have the ability to feed people and somewhere to house them—since tradition called for the Keeper to provide three days of succor to strange fae—but I’d seen that fulfilled by anything from a diner and motel to a decent hotel.

  The gaudy university bar was definitely closer to the diner-and-motel end of that scale, and from the expression of my very Irish guests, they weren’t familiar with Manors of that quality.

  “This is the Manor?” one of the women asked. “Are you serious?”

  The tall black-haired woman was glaring at me like a hungry crow.

  “Peace, Gráinne,” Andrell told her. “You can read the fae-sign as well as I can. Young Kilkenny has done as we asked; lay no insult at the feet of the Queen’s Vassal.”

  Her master’s pointed reminder quieted Gráinne, and she and the others exited my SUV at the front door of the bar.

  “May we leave our luggage with you for the moment?” Andrell asked me in his lilting accent. “As I understand, Her Majesty asked you to drive us around tonight?”

  “That’s right,” I confirmed. “There’s plenty of space for your bags.”

  I’d only had the car for half a day. There wasn’t even a concealed armory or anything built into it yet.

  “I don’t plan on imposing too harshly, Jason,” Andrell promised. “If you’ll meet us inside, we have business to discuss with the Keeper—and I think Her Vassal should be present for it.”

  Entering the bar a couple of minutes after Andrell and his people was entertaining for me. Probably not so much for the fae-only occupants of the bar, who had the incredible, I was sure, pleasure of trading looks with his bodyguards.

  Gráinne was the most noticeable, but all four of the neatly suited Europeans were looking like they’d stepped into a pigpen several inches deep in muck. The Fae Lord himself, however, was studying the dingy bar with the fascination most people reserved for a probably friendly Rottweiler.

  “Hi!” Tarva greeted them as I entered, the waitress appearing out of the limited crowd like the sun rising. She was a water nymph, five foot six of hyper-compressed sex appeal. She could turn that down, if she wanted, and it didn’t work all that well on fae…but at full power, even Andrell looked somewhat taken aback at the blast of her presence.

  “Can I get y’all some drinks?” she asked. “Eric is on his way.” She grinned. “I’m guessing you don’t need succor, but I think we can spot you some beer.”

  Andrell chuckled, a liquid sound that was a mild but noticeable threat to my determined heterosexuality, and gestured his people to a table.

  “I will have a Traditional,” he told her, referencing Calgary’s local beer. He looked at his crew, then chuckled again. “My people will have Guinness, unless you have anything else from the old country?”

  “We’ve got Smithwick’s, most Murphy’s, and Beamish,” Tarva reeled off instantly. “I’ve probably got a few varieties of Irish whisky, too.”

  “Nothing that heavy on the job,” Andrell said gently. “Folks?”

  His people gave the waitress their orders, and I traded calm nods with Tarva as I took my own seat. Zach materialized a moment later, the young changeling carrying a small tray with coffee.

  Eric’s bar coffee was usually terrible, but this cup actually smelled fantastic.

  “Thanks, Zach,” I said, sniffing it. “What did you do?”

  “Cleaned the pots and started with cold water,” he reeled off instantly. “It doesn’t take much to make good coffee out of the gear Eric had, just someone who had the time to stop and look at it.”

  I chuckled my thanks and took a sip. It wasn’t quite up to what I’d been drinking the one memorable week I’d stayed in Seattle’s independent coffeeh
ouse Manor, but it was a hell of a lot better than Eric’s place traditionally served.

  It was late, though Calgary July meant it was still light outside, and I was starting to wonder just how long Eric was going to make Andrell wait. Tradition and courtesy said that the Unseelie Lord had to meet with the Keeper before anyone else.

  Using tradition to make the Lord wait too long, however, would become one of the insults my Queen had ordered me to avoid. I wasn’t sure how long would be too long, though…but I would bet dollars to donuts that Eric did.

  Andrell hadn’t even begun to appear twitchy by the time Eric eventually arrived, though several of his guards were less self-composed. The gnome stepped out from behind the bar without hesitation—Tarva had a dozen different ways to make sure there were only fae in the bar when that was needed, after all—and crossed to the Unseelie Lord.

  “I am Eric von Radach, Keeper of the Manor in Calgary,” Eric introduced himself quietly. “Announce yourself, stranger.”

  “I am Lord Karl Andrell of the Unseelie,” Andrell told him, his voice liquid and calm. “I am charged by Unseelie Lord Jon Andrews of the High Court to establish a new Court in this city, to provide leadership and sanctuary to the Unseelie of these lands.”

  He paused for a moment to let the mostly Unseelie crowd absorb that. The nature of the crowd was sign enough that Calgary’s Unseelie had known he was coming.

  “Such was presented to Our High Court and approved,” he told us all. “By the Will of the Fae Powers, I am now the Lord of the Unseelie Courts in this city.”

  Andrell had never actually sat down, even as he drank his beer, and yet he and Eric seemed to be on a level somehow. The gnome came up to his chest, but the Keeper was unintimidated. I didn’t know how strong Eric truly was with Power without the chance to forge artifacts—but I also knew that this was his home.

  Few were those foolish enough to fight a War Smith on their own ground.

  “Do you so recognize me, Keeper Eric von Radach?” Andrell demanded.

  “The High Court and Queen we share have made their decision, Lord Andrell,” Eric told him. “I see you and I recognize you. I remind you that I stand as Keeper to this city, outside your Courts, and that I have bound the fae of this realm to the agreed-upon Covenants between the races.

  “Are you prepared to accept those Covenants, Lord Andrell?”

  In theory, Andrell could refuse the Covenants that dictated how the fae would deal with the Wizard and the shifters and the other scattered supernaturals of Calgary. But then, in theory, Eric could actually deny recognition of the Unseelie Court.

  In reality, there was no chance I was doing anything except driving Karl Andrell to meet Lord Oberis next.

  5

  I’d stopped at the entrance to the Manor and let the Unseelie go in on their own, but that was the Manor. The Manor was neutral ground, guaranteed as such by the High Court. If someone caused trouble in the Manor, it was part of my job to punish them for it.

  So far, that had involved tracking down one drunken banshee and making her pay to replace an entire set of glassware. It had been pretty mundane and tame, but the neutrality of the Manor was sacred.

  There was no such neutrality to the Courts themselves. Quite the opposite, in fact, and Lord Andrell arguably took his life into his own hands by entering Lord Oberis’s Court. Tradition required it—and equally, tradition required that Andrell be escorted by an accepted neutral.

  Today, that was me, which meant that I parked the giant SUV and led the way into the western-themed hotel that held what had been merely the Fae Court of Calgary—and was about to become the Seelie Court of Calgary.

  Andrell himself walked behind me, but this time, his guards fell in behind us. Leading the way into Oberis’s Court with armed Unseelie Nobles was…bad form.

  We passed through the normal sections of the hotel, where hay bales and painted cowboys reminded everyone that the Stampede was still ongoing, and into a wing of conference rooms that declared themselves booked by one of Calgary’s many and varied oil exploration companies.

  It was always a different company…but this wing was always booked. A suited “hotel employee” at the entry desk was actually a Gentry guard, but she waved me through. We were expected, after all.

  Charms woven into the walls would discourage any mundane from going much farther than that desk even if it was unguarded, and the actual space back there was larger on the inside. Carpet gave way to carefully grown and magically maintained moss, and we reached a paired set of double doors.

  Normally, those doors were kept open when Court was in session. Tonight, however, they were closed. Tradition demanded it.

  Robert stood outside the doors stiffly, the young Seelie Noble eyeing his new Unseelie counterparts carefully. With the arrival of Andrell’s guards, the number of Fae Nobles in the city had just doubled—and that was assuming Talus was in town.

  “Robert,” I greeted him with a nod of my head. “I’m here to present Lord Andrell. Are we going to have a problem?”

  The words were more formalized than they sounded. We had our assigned roles to play tonight—there had once been a time when this affair would have required more than one part-human Vassal to make sure of the new Lord’s safety.

  Things were calmer these days. Mostly.

  “We were advised of his arrival,” Robert said carefully. “There are no hands raised against him tonight; the Court awaits his arrival.”

  He stepped aside, a small gesture opening the doors with his telekinetic power. My usual thrill of envy at the demonstration of that gift was tempered tonight by the realization that I would soon be meeting a trainer who was supposed to teach me how to wield that power.

  It was an odd thought.

  Andrell gestured for me to precede him and gave Robert a firm, reassuring nod. He clearly recognized the young Noble’s inexperience and was being supportive.

  I wasn’t entirely enthused with Andrell’s presence in the city, but I’ll be damned if the man wasn’t likeable.

  Calgary’s Court was built on the bones of a normal large business conference center. At one point, it had had mobile walls that could be slid across to divide it into three smaller spaces, but those—like the original carpet—had disappeared after the fae had taken over the space.

  Now the walls were covered in murals half-concealed under creeping ivy, and the carpet had been replaced with carefully manicured moss. The chairs were about the only thing that resembled the original furniture, and even those had been upgraded to more expensive and more comfortable varieties.

  A raised dais at one of the hall now held a table with a single chair behind it, the closest Lord Oberis was willing to come to anything resembling a throne. Usually, there would be chairs in front of the table for the people meeting with him, but today there was nothing.

  Talus stood to Lord Oberis’s right, Robert’s equally blond and Noble father looming over the crowd. To the left stood the ash-black form of the nightmare Tamara. Both of Oberis’s guardians were friends, though no one would have guessed it from the cold glares they leveled on me.

  This was work and duty, though, regardless of what any of us thought of it. I followed the narrow gap at the center of the room, leading my new companions to the front of the hall with a somber step.

  There’d been two dozen fae, almost all Unseelie, at the Manor. The rest of Calgary’s two hundred–odd fae were gathered here. There was no one in the city of our Courts who would not see Lord Andrell tonight.

  There were guests, too. A cluster of wolf shifters were seated in one corner, keeping quietly to themselves. None were Alphas or similarly important members of the Clans—that would be stealing the spotlight—but the shifters were there to bear witness.

  Every eye in the room was on me. I hated being the center of attention, not least because even now most of the people in the room could break me with one hand.

  But this was duty and I would honor my oaths.

  I r
eached the dais and bowed to Lord Oberis.

  “My Lord Oberis, Master of the Seelie in this realm, I am here as a neutral arbiter under the will of my Queen and our shared High Court,” I told him, the formal words rolling awkwardly off my tongue. “An Unseelie Lord has petitioned the High Court for the right to form a new Court in this realm.”

  Oberis was silent but gestured for me to continue speaking. The need for me to be neutral was going to be a headache for the friendships I’d forged with Calgary’s Court. For that alone, I wished Andrell had gone somewhere else.

  “The High Court saw no reason to deny the petition,” I told the gathered Court. “Lords and ladies of the Calgary Courts, may I introduce the Lord of our new Unseelie Court, Lord Andrell.”

  I gestured Andrell forward and stepped to one side. My part in this theater, at least, was done.

  Andrell gave Oberis the carefully measured half-bow of equal Lords.

  “Lord Oberis and fae of our now-shared city,” he greeted them all. “I know this is never an easy transition to make, from one Court to two, and it’s hard to swallow for many. To the Unseelie of this realm, I remind you that our shared Lord has commanded this. I will open a new Court in the days to come, and I summon you all to meet me there when the time comes.”

  He smiled and waved expansively to the room.

  “To our Seelie brothers, I beg you to be patient and to give us time. There is no need for conflict,” he told us. “This is not a hostile takeover—I don’t want to rule this city any more than Lord Oberis does. We are bound by code and oath and Covenant, and we share this city.”

  He turned back to Oberis, and even I could feel the tension in the air between them.

  “We are brothers, my Lord,” he insisted. “The codes and Covenants to lay out peace between Seelie and Unseelie Courts have been written for generations. There is no need for conflict here.”