Faery Tales & Nightmares

to let it be destroyed.

“You remember telling me you could taste emotions?” Seth asked.

Niall nodded.

“Do I forgive you?”

“Don’t know.” Niall took a drag off the cigarette. “You’re conflicted about something. For the King of Order —”

“Not a king.” Seth winced. He didn’t want to be in charge of anyone, and he didn’t want to be the one who’d have to stand against Niall ever again either. He’d agreed to it so as to help Niall in the middle of a war, but the past week, the reality of what it could mean weighed on him.

Niall turned and looked at him. “Whatever you call it, Seth. The faery who balances me … you’re not too orderly. Anger, worry, doubt, fear, and”—Niall inhaled—“hope.”

“Seems about right.” Seth bit his lip ring, weighing his words.

“Can you keep us invisible?” Niall asked the Mustang. When the steed made a growling noise that echoed through the car, Niall pushed the seat back and gave up the pretense of driving. “Peace between the courts would be better. My court is stronger now that I have a balance … and now that I have the embodiment of Discord living in the house.”

“Leslie’s refusals help too,” Seth pointed out. “You are all three better by being together but sometimes at a distance.”

Niall scowled. “Is that opinion or future seeing?”

“Yes,” Seth said.

After that, they drove in silence, broken only by the music that the steed allowed and the sounds of the world outside rushing by. They stopped for fuel or other necessities. At the first stop they switched spots, more for variety than anything, and on the second stop, they switched back because—as Niall put it—Seth didn’t relax well in the driver’s seat. The illusion of the steed as a car made Seth uneasy.

They had resumed invisibility and were darting in and out of traffic at a pace that was dizzying when Seth finally said, “So to be clear, if I found a way to pass off this whole balancing-the-Dark-King bit—”

“Are you thinking about it?” Niall asked.

“I don’t want to be your enemy.”

The steed shifted to an SUV with extra-wide seats as they spoke. Seth climbed into the backseat, figuring that the steed was offering a makeshift bed and a little sleep wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“Opposites aren’t enemies,” Niall said after another quiet moment. “I don’t want to have anger between us either.”

“No more trying to burn my eyes out or anything else,” Seth cautioned. “Your word, Niall. Whether I stay this or I find a way to get rid of it, I want your word that you won’t imprison me or attack me again. I don’t care how angry you get or how the Dark Court does things traditionally: families aren’t to torture each other. Got it?”

“My word.” Niall cleared his throat before adding, “And if you see Leslie’s or Irial’s death, you’ll tell me. Promise me that.”

“Promise.”

At that, Niall reached back and clasped Seth’s hand. “Then we shall have a faery bargain, brother. Breaking it will mean the oathbreaker suffers that which he caused—the death of the loved one or the torture.”

“Lovely,” Seth muttered. “I see where the optimistic streak comes from.”

The Dark King laughed then, and Seth smiled at the sound.

Daylight arrived, and the conversations of the past night were not revisited. Niall hadn’t expected the discussion to go so gracefully, and he was forced to admit to himself that while Seth was his balance, the former mortal didn’t seem to share the faery aversion to truthful discourse. If I’d been able to have such conversations with Irial or Keenan, would we have had so much conflict? Maybe it was as simple as the fact that Seth was a fit balance for Niall. Or his mortality is recent enough that he’s not yet learned to play games.

They didn’t revisit the question of Seth’s willingness to remain the balance to the Dark Court, but short of tearing down the barrier to Faerie, Niall didn’t see any way it could change. Of course, there were a lot of things he didn’t see about the future, whereas Seth had the ability to look at future threads. Maybe he sees something. Most likely, though, it was fear that influenced Seth. He’d had a lot of major changes in such a short time. It was a wonder he hadn’t run screaming away from the courts. Many mortals had over the centuries, yet Seth fought to stay in their world. It was part of why Niall admired him. None of which is going to be the sort of topic that will ease our tensions. Niall concentrated on things they had first discussed: music, books, stories of past adventures.

The next few days passed uneventfully, so when they arrived at the end of the drivable road to the campground, they were laughing and talking. Niall figured they had time enough to deal with faery matters after they saw to whatever trouble Seth’s mortal parents had found.

The steed stopped. Niall and Seth got their gear.

Seth looked at the trail in front of them. “Race?”

They spent the next two hours running up the trail in the sort of unbridled speed that faeries were capable of. They leaped over fallen trees and startled a few deer, who decided to run crosswise to them. As they ran, more and more faeries seemed to be watching from tree boughs and from the ground. A lot of them. It wasn’t troubling yet, and Niall had no doubt that he and Seth could handle any conflicts that might arise. Perhaps the summons from Seth’s parents isn’t because of a mortal matter.

As they neared the campsite, Seth felt the jumble of excitement at seeing his parents and anxiety over what they needed. They didn’t look much different. Despite their surroundings, his father still had hair so short that it was almost regulation. The alert posture at their approach bespoke years of caution, and the assessing gaze Master Gunnery Sergeant James Morgan leveled at Niall would intimidate most people. With an unexpected flare of pride, Seth realized that his father wouldn’t be daunted by the Dark Court—and that he should never be exposed to them. Confidence was all well and good, but even in their prime, the strongest, best-trained mortals were no match for faeries.

“Baby!” Linda jumped up and hugged Seth with the sort of exuberance that had made it hard to stay upset with her for most of his life. She wasn’t traditionally maternal, but she was so alive and so passionate that being around her made it difficult to do anything but get swept up in her energy.

She pulled back, studied him, and then squeezed him again. “Jamie! Look!”

“I see him, Linda.” He stood. “Seth.”

“Dad.” Seth kept an arm around his mother and extended the other to clasp his father’s hand. “Good to see you.”

James nodded, and Linda seemed to finally notice that there was another person present. She tensed.

“So, Linda, Dad, this is Niall.” Seth gestured at the Dark King. “He’s a friend from home. Niall, James and Linda, my parents.”

“Nice to meet you,” Niall said evenly. His attention, however, was on the faeries who were edging closer to the campsite.

James Morgan stepped forward and extended his hand.

Niall lifted both arms; one hand held a cigarette and the other a packed tent. He couldn’t say that he wanted to keep his hand free in case the nearby faeries approached, but Seth saw the tense way that Niall kept surveying the woods.

Linda arched her brow at Niall’s refusal; James was less circumspect. “You could drop the tent.”

“Good idea.” Niall shot Seth a warning look. “I’ll pitch the tent, Seth. Why don’t you all talk while I do that?”

Without waiting for a reply, Niall walked toward a level bit of ground and began assembling a tent with the sort of precision that comes from having done the task regularly. Seth considered going after him, but figured that this wasn’t something to discuss in front of his parents.

One problem at a time.

“Your letter said there was trouble,” Seth started.

His parents exchanged a look, but neither of them said anything.