Mistral's Kiss by Laurell K. Hamilton

Author:Laurell K. Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3, pdf
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Fantasy Fiction, Meredith (Fictitious Character), Gentry, Fairies, Contemporary, Women Private Investigators, General, Romance, Fantasy, Supernatural, Women Sleuths, Paranormal Fiction, Occult Fiction, Mystery Fiction, Fiction, sf
ISBN: 9780345443618
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2006-01-01T17:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

SHE LAY JUST ABOVE THE LOW WATER, IMPALED ON A SERIES OF spiked bones jutting out of her from throat to stomach. She hung there, caught, bleeding, like a fish caught on some terrible hook.

I think Sholto's guards expected her to simply draw herself off the spined ridge of the boned creature. Agnes, especially, seemed to be waiting, patient, unworried. "Come on, Segna, get up." Her voice was impatient.

Segna lay there and bled, her legs flailing, exposing her most intimate parts as she struggled. The hags wore a leather belt from which hung a sword and a pouch, but that, and their cloaks, were all. Her body was both larger than a human's and more wizened, as if she were a shrunken giant.

I saw the wide eyes, the fright on her face. She wasn't going to just get up. Sometimes, being mortal, I recognized real damage faster, because on a visceral level, I knew it was a possibility. Creatures who are immortal, or nearly so, don't understand the disasters that could befall them.

"Ivar, Fyfe, go to her."

"With due respect, King Sholto," Fyfe said, "I would stay here, and send Agnes down."

Sholto started to argue, but Ivar joined the argument. "We do not dare leave Agnes up here with you alone. The princess will have guards, but you will be unprotected."

"Agnes would not hurt me," Sholto said, but he was staring at Segna as if he were finally realizing just how bad it might be.

"We are your guards, and your uncles. We would be poor at both duties if we left you alone with Agnes now," Ivar said in his bird-like voice. People always expected the nightflyers to have hissing, ugly voices, but Ivar sounded like a songbird—or how a songbird might sound if it could speak as humans do. Most of the nightflyers sounded like that.

"Segna is a night-hag," Agnes said. "A mere bone will not bring her down."

"I tripped on such a bone coming into your garden," Abe said, and raised his cloth-wrapped arm at her. Blood had soaked through much of the cloth.

"The bones hold old magic," Doyle said. "Some of them are things that hunted the sidhe and the other sluagh before they were tamed by your early kings."

"Do not lecture me about my own people," Agnes said.

"I remember a time when Black Agnes was not a part of the sluagh," Rhys said, softly.

She glared at him. "And I remember a time when you had other names, white knight." She spat in his direction. "We have both fallen far from what we once were."

"Go with Ivar, Agnes. Go see to your sister," Sholto said.

She glared at him. "Do you not trust me?"

"I once trusted the three of you more than any other, but you bloodied me before the Seelie got hold of me. You cut me up first."

"Because you sought to betray us with some white-fleshed slut."

"I am king here, or I am not, Agnes. You either obey me, or you do not. You will go down with Ivar to help Segna, or I will see it as a direct challenge to my authority.

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