Ashes of Honor

“No. Once it’s done, it’s done forever, but you won’t be dangerous anymore. You’ll be able to learn to control your powers. You’ll have a normal life.” A life that would last for centuries, if not millennia.

Chelsea bit her lip. Then, marginally, she nodded.

I didn’t let myself look up. I didn’t want to see the look on Etienne’s face as I turned her hand so that her palm was facing toward the ceiling and ran the edge of my blade—clean, thanks to someone’s efforts while I was asleep, and keen-edged enough to slice through skin without a hitch—across the center of it. Blood welled up immediately, scenting the air with its presence.

I repeated the process with my own hand before sheathing my knife again. Raising my hand to my lips, I got a mouthful of blood. Then I bent, and pressed my mouth against the cut on Chelsea’s hand in a parody of a kiss.

My magic rose around us in a heavy cloud, the smell of copper all but overwhelming the smell of fresh-cut grass. There was a momentary pause as Chelsea’s body tried to figure out what happening.

Then Chelsea screamed like she was being murdered and tried to jerk her hand away.

Etienne was abruptly there, holding her in place. “No, Chelsea, shh, it’s all right, honey, you have to be still. Let October work. It will be over soon. Let her work.”

Chelsea screamed again. I did my best to shut her out and focus on what I was doing: reaching for the tangled threads of humanity that wound through her and pulling them free, one by one. I patched the holes with Tuatha de Dannan, expanding the other part of her heritage until it was all she had. She was still screaming, her voice growing hoarse, and I was getting lost in the dark tangles of her self, the places where human and fae collided and made her something unique in all of Faerie.

Somewhere in her was the answer to what made some changelings too powerful to live; the key to that strange, unavoidable quirk of biology. But I didn’t know what to look for, and so I wiped it away, along with everything else that made her human. I wiped it all away.

When I straightened up, Chelsea was slumped against her father, unconscious. I hadn’t even noticed when she stopped screaming. The world around me spun. What I’d done with Gillian hadn’t taken half as much power. She’d been less than a quarter fae. Chelsea, on the other hand, was the real deal, half and half. I felt like something had been ripped out of me in the process of changing her.

“Thank you,” whispered Etienne.

“Any…time…” I said, through numb lips. Then I fell backward and was only distantly aware of Tybalt’s arms coming up to catch me as the darkness closed in again.

I woke up back in the white velvet room. Li Qin was gone, as were Quentin and May. In their place were Etienne, kneeling next to the couch where Chelsea was sprawled, and Sylvester, standing off to one side and watching the scene with an unreadable expression on his face. Only Tybalt remained the same. His leg was the pillow my head was resting on.

Sylvester smiled a little when my eyes opened. “Welcome back to the land of the living, my dear. In more ways than one.”

“Annwn is not a good tourist destination. Just an FYI.” I struggled to sit up. Tybalt put a hand under my back, supporting me. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago. Your King of Cats thought I might want to be here and came to fetch me.” Sylvester seemed amused by this.

I considered telling him Tybalt wasn’t my King of Cats but decided it wasn’t worth the fight—and besides, that might not be true anymore. Instead, I focused on the important question. “How’s Chelsea?”

“Asleep while she recovers. Jin has been in and out since you both blacked out. It’s impressive, the language she uses when she feels that you’ve been risking your life needlessly.” Sylvester’s smile died. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Etienne asked me not to.”

“Since when does he command you? You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

“Don’t split hairs with me, October.”

“I gave him my word. He was worried about his daughter. He didn’t mean to get me hurt.” I bit my lip. “Please don’t be mad.”

“I can’t help being angry and disappointed. And yet…” Sylvester looked toward Etienne. To his credit, Etienne raised his head and met his liege’s eyes without flinching. “I suppose I would have done the same in his position, and he’s been more than suitably chastened. Still, I will miss his talents for the next year or so.”

“The next—oh, oak and ash.” I grimaced. “The power dampener.”

“In the chaos, no one thought to use the antidote,” said Etienne. His voice was calm. “What is a year, compared to a daughter? A price gladly paid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Etienne reached over and brushed a lock of Chelsea’s hair away from her face. Her cheekbones were more pronounced than they’d been before, and her ears were more pointed. The color of her hair hadn’t changed, but I was willing to bet she wouldn’t be able to hide her eyes behind tinted glasses anymore. “I’ve gained more than I could have dreamed.”