'Don't be late. Or we'll have to come and fetch you.'
He turned, the bulk of Tate retreating before him, and they walked away back down the corridor, the rhythmic tap of the staff on the tiles sounding their retreat.
'Who were they?' I asked Blackbird.
'We're being summoned to stand before the Council of Seven Courts, the full council of the lords and ladies who rule all the Courts of the Feyre.'
'Seven courts? I thought you said the Seventh Court wasn't part of that anymore.'
'Their place is held open for them should they ever decide to return. The Council is where the rulers of the courts meet together to discuss matters affecting them all.'
'So why are we being summoned?'
'I don't know. The Council usually acts to defend the independence and authority of each individual court. They resolve disputes between courts.'
'So why do they want to see either of us?'
'I don't know, but you can't refuse. You have to go.'
'What will happen if we don't?'
'They would send those two to bring us before the court and, believe me, it would be far better to go willingly. Or we could be ruled in contempt, just like a human court except the punishments are more visceral.'
'There are only two of them,' I pointed out.
'The Warders of the Seven Courts are a cross between court officials, bodyguards and court enforcers. They carry out the will of the courts, in blood if necessary. And there are six of them, one for each court.'
'So they'll try to bring us before the court. We can stand up for ourselves, I think we've proved that much at least.'
'The Untainted are bad enough to deal with but the Warders are different. If the Seven Courts decree an execution then these are the people who carry it out. They're specially trained to go up against the worst of Feyre society. They are the ultimate sanction of the courts. They work as a team and they make Raffmir and Solandre look like amateurs.'
'They didn't look so bad.'
'Delivering messages is one of their more pleasant duties. They probably regard it as a day off.'
'Do you think we should go with them, then? Couldn't we run away, go somewhere remote?'
'You may be able to run, but I can't.'
'Why not?'
'Niall, I am bound to the courts. When I am summoned I must go. I receive the court's protection, but I am also bound by its decisions. I don't have a choice. They'll always find me and, anyway, it's not really an option in my condition.'
'You're definitely pregnant then?'
'You'll be a father again.'
'Oh wow. That's incredible, really. I'm delighted.' I drew her to me, intending to kiss her, but she resisted.
'I've never done this before. I confess I'm a little scared.'
'I'll stay with you. It'll be OK. We can go to ante-natal classes together. I did it with Katherine.'
'I can't go to ante-natal classes, Niall.' She looked troubled.
'Why not? It's easy. It's just exercises and stuff. You'll be good at it.'
'You forget, the baby is only partly human. Fey mothers carry their children for almost a year, not nine months. Don't you think people are going to be suspicious if it takes that long? It might not even come out looking human. I can't have a scan or let anyone see it, can I? I have to keep it secret.'
'Don't the Feyre have midwives or something? Surely if they're so keen to have children they have something?'
'Kareesh will look after me when the time comes, but in the meantime I need somewhere quiet, somewhere safe for the baby to grow.' She was looking more and more concerned.
'It'll be OK,' I reassured her, 'After all we've been through, we can deal with this. I'll think of something.'
'There's more. I'm going to lose my power.'
'What do you mean?'
'I'm going to lose my ability to use magic. It's already fading. Pregnant Fey can't use magic. It would be dangerous for the baby and my body won't let me. It'll close down for the duration. That's how I know I'm pregnant. What I did in the tunnels, I couldn't do any more. It's the way it should be, but…'
'But what?'
'Niall, I feel so helpless.'
I opened my arms and she leaned forward and rested her head on my chest while I hugged her to me. She was trembling so I simply held her until the trembling eased.
After a while she lifted herself up and looked into my eyes.
'Tell me that it will be OK?'
'It'll be fine,' I told her. 'I promise.' She rested her head back on my chest and we lay there for some time while the hospital murmured around us.
'I need help,' I told her, after a while.
'What kind of help?' she asked.
'I need Claire, today, now. Can you bring her to me?'
'Here? Yes. What for?'
'We need Claire to help us. I'll explain it to you both when she gets here. But hurry.'
'She's going to want to know why, Niall.'
'Tell her I want her to be our insurance policy.'
Blackbird and I reached Soho Square shortly before one and found the early afternoon drinkers were already established in the pub on the corner. The garden in the centre of the square was arrayed with office workers eating lunch. We found the address easily, an anonymous entrance in a row of doors. We were ten minutes early.
'They're not here yet,' I remarked.
'Of course they are,' Blackbird contradicted.
'I don't see anyone.'
'You won't.'
She looked around nervously, then ascended the short flight of steps and pressed the brass doorbell mounted by the door. No one came to the door. She waited a moment and then descended back to the pavement.
'They will know we're here now.'
'I thought you said they already knew.'
'Don't be picky.'
We waited on the pavement in full view while people walked through the square on their way to meet friends, lovers or colleagues. We scanned each face for signs of our earlier visitors, but didn't see them approach. They appeared out of the random movements of passers-by. One moment there were a number of unrecognised people strolling through the square and the next they were there.
With them was a young woman with short, dark hair, wearing a pale grey silk shirt and trousers. Her eyes were as hard as glass. She had walked past Blackbird and then doubled back, cutting off the retreat. We knew she was one of them from the sword swinging from her hip which hadn't been there a moment before. The black lacquered scabbard gleamed with the dull sheen of constant handling. She watched us, and Garvin and Tate watched the square. Tate swung a long-bearded axe gently from one hand. It looked like a toy against his enormous frame.
'You're on time.' Garvin's smile was noncommittal, as if it was all the same to him. 'Tate you know. This is Amber. You will not call power unless it is directly requested, understand? Use power without permission and we will kill you without hesitation.'
He moved down the pavement, staff tapping on the paving, away from the door where Blackbird had rung the bell. Tate and Amber moved in to flank us.
'Aren't we going inside?' Blackbird asked, gesturing towards the door where she'd rung the bell.
