Aodhan told me, "You'll have to wait a minute, lovely." He reached to his waist and unsheathed his knife. "I have to take care of this first."
Okay. This was enough. As Aodhan lifted his knife, I summoned every bit of physical strength I had and swung my left hand--nail, board, and all--at Freckle Freak's pretty face. There was no time for him to jerk away, and the nail stabbed into his cheek.
The knife dropped from his hand.
Aodhan wrenched his cheek from the nail and stumbled off of me. Staring at me, he touched the wound with his fingers. It was no worse than the wound on my hand, 304
certainly not enough to kill him, but his eyes told me otherwise.
And then, bursting from the hole the iron had made, a new, green bud surged forth, unfolding into a delicate leaf. And then another, and another still. The fresh growth spread across his cheek, exploding into beautiful white flowers with yellow stamen, and purple daisies with deep black centers, and small, pink bleeding hearts that bobbed as he stumbled back again. In seconds, endless beauty erupted from the filth that was Aodhan, consuming him with life and promise. He fell back, but before he hit the floor, it was only a cascade of flowers that spilled across the stage, making no more sound than a whisper.
I wrenched my hand from the nail and grasped my key. My hand was bloody but had stopped hurting; was that a bad thing? The Queen looked at the pile of flowers that was Freckle Freak and then looked at Eleanor. "The time for sport is over. Bring me Luke Dillon."
I stopped breathing.
"With pleasure," Eleanor said, sweeping over the petals as if they meant nothing to her. I crept over to James' side, crouching protectively between him and the Queen, though who knew what I could do against her if she tried to kill him. She had my name. The power to stop me in my tracks. A small part of me wished that Luke would whirl in and rescue me again, but I didn't really think it was going to go down like that.
The Queen looked at me, her eyes flitting over the
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bloody key and over James, behind me. "You aren't strong enough, you know. Not to kill me.
Not to rule Them."
I cradled my hand in my lap, shoulders hunched, and gazed back at her. "I don't want to rule Them."
She shrugged. "Then They will kill you. Haven't you heard the legends? Don't you know what happens to cloverhands who cannot control the fey? Eyes gouged out. Paralyzed. Killed."
Her words rang true, echoing faerie tales from my childhood. But my mind slipped away from her, escaping into a memory of Luke's--him playing a wild reel in a circle of faeries who bent bows and pounded drums. I recognized Brendan, saw Una's smile, heard the feral beauty of the tune. It was one of the most beautiful memories I'd gotten from Luke, the only one I'd wished I'd been there for.
"Deirdre," snapped the Queen, and my attention focused back on her. "You have already given up. Lay down your key and I promise it will be quick."
I frowned at her. Something in her words reminded me of that breathy voice singing the legend of the other Deirdre--the third Deirdre--in my ear this morning.
But before I could think why it was important, the Queen looked at Eleanor, who had returned to the stage alone. God. Where was Luke? Dead?
Eleanor's expression was unfathomable. "The Daoine Sidhe are outside, my Queen." She raised a delicate eyebrow and I could have sworn that she nearly smiled. "They demand an audience."
The Queen looked surprised, but then scoffed. "The
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Daoine Sidhe are nothing. They have no power to demand anything."
"And I told them that, my Queen. But they said the cloverhand saved the life of one of theirs, the tarbh uisge, and that the law demanded she be given a gift in return."
My eyes darted to the Queen.
Her expression was dark, but she didn't disagree with Eleanor. "The Sidhe are too weak to come here without being called, even on this night. Who has called them? It is forbidden. Who has called them?"
"I have."
A shiver ran through me--my body telling me who had spoken before I even turned to look.
"Luke Dillon!" If I had thought the Queen's expression was dark before, now it was awful to see.
Eleanor stepped aside, letting Luke step up onto the stage. His eyes found me, and I saw pain in them. I couldn't stop staring at him standing there, his hair bright under the stage lights, his face pale against his black T-shirt, his shoulders square but his eyes defeated.
"Luke Dillon," the Queen said again. "It is forbidden to call the Daoine Sidhe. Would you see your soul in hell?"
"It's over," Luke said, and dropped his dagger onto the stage. It clattered across the shiny floor with ringing finality. "I'm done doing your bidding. Do with me what you will, but I am done."
The Queen glowed with fury; I saw the setting sun in her eyes. "Gallowglass, you have so much to lose. How can you deny me?"
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Though Luke spoke to her, he looked at me as he said, "T mo chr i istigh inti."
"How can you love her?" screamed the Queen. "She is nothing."
And then, with Luke's pale eyes soaking me up, saying sorry, this is all I can do, I remembered-- God, I'm a moron!
"I'm not nothing." I stood up. "I'm not nothing, Deirdre O'Brien."
The Queen turned her perfect face to me in disbelief.
"That's your name, isn't it?" I took a step toward her. I didn't need her to answer; I could feel the truth of it. I could feel the power it contained. Power over her. Combined with
