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Despite the wedding decorations, the scene reminded me of the one fromGone with the Wind,with the wounded laid out all up and down the hallway. “Oh, God,” I gasped. “Oh no.”
Rogue steadied me, absorbing my shock and guilt. Then he turned and addressed Falcon, leaving me to assess the damages. Even as I walked away, I felt his mental caress stay with me. The peace of our mutual accord, of which of us would handle which crisis, shored me up as much as his strong hands had. I’d thought this marriage would be like an anchor, the heaviest of chains around my neck—instead it gave me a foundation.
Which I sorely needed.
Fae of all types lay bleeding, poisoned edges of spider bites eating into their flesh. Mistress Nancy moved among them, performing a gruesome sort of triage, having some of Larch’s healthy Brownie fellows move the less worse off to another hall.
“Where is Lady Healer?”
“I don’t know that one, dearie. Healing would be a blessing, though, if ye can arrange it.”
Giving up on protocol, I reached through the web for Athena. She responded alertly, showing up at my elbow in moments, blood on her hands.
“Fetch Lady Healer, would you? And find Starling—we need her organizational skills.”
“Gwynn—”
“You summoned me, my lady?” Healer glided up, irritation oozing out of her at my inadvertent summons. Too loud, as always.
“Yes. Okay, Athena—just go find Starling, would you?”
She hesitated briefly, then took off.
“Lady Healer, this is Mistress Nancy. She’s organizing the wounded by severity of their injuries. If you would—”
“Excuse me?” she interrupted, then waved a languid hand at the array of suffering. “They should be put in order of rank. I don’t work on the lower fae. Or humans.”
“Oh, is it beneath you?”
She missed my sarcasm entirely. “Yes.”
“You worked on me.”
“Nonmagical humans,” she clarified. “I’m sure you understand.
“What Iunderstandis that you now work for me as much as for Lord Rogue. I’m telling you to treat according to Nancy’s order. If you choose to leave this employment, I’ll see you’re put out of the castle immediately. There are some nice playmates for you outside.”
She whitened. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I must have looked mean with it because she physically flinched. “Agreed. I will treat according to that Nancy’s order.” She picked up her glamorous skirts and went to do my bidding.
It’s good to be queen.
Or, whatever my rank was.
In the back of my mind, Rogue was still arguing with Falcon and some of the other nobles. Just as glad not to be part of that, I snagged a page and asked him to lead me to Larch. The Brownie was ably directing a crew of his fellows—or minions, I couldn’t be sure—in sealing up a breach in the hallway leading to the fallen tower.
Several Brownies were manning buckets, dousing the fire spiders that streamed in. I asked Rogue to send me someone who could do magic and Fafnir appeared in moments, a sardonic twist to his hatchet face.
“It appears I’m useful after all,” he said. “Enough to get me out of silver for a while.”
“You and I can talk later. Meanwhile, stay here and get rid of these spiders.”
He licked his lips. “With pleasure.” And he dissolved into his snake form, licking up great swaths of the swarming things with zeal. Wasn’t what I’d had in mind, but it would work.
“And don’t eat any of the Brownies,” I told him. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”
