10: Back in Blue

  Beri waited for Ambassador Littig one hour and thirteen minutes. He was not confined in the cell again, nor was he tied to the bed, but the conference room, complete with hard chairs like one might find in a cssroom and a table into which someone had gouged the words ‘Lisa’s pussy smells like fish,’ was unpleasant enough. He was not allowed to leave until his next of kin appeared to assure them he would not be left alone. Where they intended to find kin, he wasn’t sure. If he had people, he wouldn’t be in this position in the first pce.

  When the ambassador arrived, Beri recognized his voice through the door. He had met Littig on a few occasions. With Beri’s older sister, Lorai, dead, Littig was the only ambassador in the continental United States. The promptness of his arrival said he must already have been in the Midwest.

  “He’s in here?” Littig spoke with an Avalonian accent. “You’ve…you’ve locked the High King of Faerie in this little room?”

  The voice that answered was Detective Jordan’s. He sounded uncharacteristically cowed. “We’ve been questioning him in the disappearance of his–of his female companion.”

  Littig made an incredulous sound. “His female companion? Do you understand–his entire role in our society is to kill on behalf of the state. If you had found some woman’s head in his bags, you would have had no right to question him, let alone drug him and keep him prisoner in–in Colorado! He could have–” Littig gasped. “He could have been killed. Mother of All, he’s twenty years old. He doesn’t even have an heir.”

  The detective said, “I think I need to get my captain down here.”

  Littig’s voice sounded strangled. “You need to get the Chief of Police. Possibly the mayor. Who is governor here? Never mind.” He switched to speaking Fey Common: “Clothing. And someone to do the braids. If he walks out of this building looking like a mental patient the press will go rabid.”

  The door opened. Littig, a raven-haired Daoine Sidhe man in an expensive American suit and a dark blue tie, took exactly two steps into the conference room before going down on his knees at Beri’s feet.

  “Rise.” Beri said, “We need to leave immediately. Get Queen Rhiannon on the phone. If that proves difficult, contact Prince Liam instead.”

  Littig finished scrambling to his feet, mouth open in a surprised gawp. “Prince Liam is on his way already, Most High. Princess Katherine has not been home all weekend and he wanted words with you about her disappearance. When he heard you were–ah–unwell in Colorado, why–” Littig stopped talking to y both of his hands alongside his face. “Oh no. Oh no. Your female companion–the one who has gone missing–”

  Beri swallowed. “We’re afraid so. She’s been missing since Saturday night and we have been unable to enlist local w enforcement to aid in her recovery. They’ve decided we murdered her, apparently.”

  Littig swallowed, too. “But you–you didn’t feel the need to–you do like Princess Katherine? Or at least dislike the idea of a thousand years of House warfare with the MacGregors?”

  “We didn’t kill her,” Beri snapped. Littig flinched. Beri pretended he hadn’t. “In fact, we would very much appreciate it if someone would open an investigation into her whereabouts. Now.”

  “Y-yes, Most High. Right away.” Littig fairly dove for the door, but then he leaned his head back around the jamb. “There is someone coming to do your hair, Most High. I’m afraid it would be–well. It would not be to your advantage to be seen looking like–” Littig waved a hand in Beri’s direction before he disappeared. His heels ccked on the tile as his over-loud voice echoed, “Your governor. Now!”

  At least no one shut the door. Beri sat, folding his hands together. All there was to do now was wait. In his periphery, something moved, so he looked up. Trevor sat in a chair just outside the doorway like a guard, arms folded, chin resting warily on his chest.

  Beri said, “Someone has it out for you.”

  Trevor sighed. “I used to date my team lead’s daughter in high school.”

  Beri waited thirty-seven minutes before a dark skinned human woman who spoke English with an accent finally appeared. Her hair was arranged in long, beautiful braids of a type with which he was not familiar, but she introduced herself and got down to business.   “I never braided hair like this,” she said. “At least you don’t need a weave.”

  Beri wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “We’re certain your work will be more than adequate, madam.”

  She sniffed haughtily. “Honey, I do the best braids in Thornton. ‘Adequate’ ain’t the word you want.”

  Beri smiled for the first time since waking that morning. “What is the proper word?”

  “Mm.” The woman tapped the long, pointed handle of her comb on her lips. “‘Stunning’ will be a good start. You’re gonna look like a million dolrs when I’m done. Shit, boy, you got a whole rat’s nest back here. You didn’t comb this? Mm-mm. Fee just went up.”

  A tailor holding a blue suit appeared fourteen minutes ter, carting behind him a little wagon with his portable sewing machine therein. Beri had long since memorized his measurements, so it was unnecessary to disturb the braider from her work. The tailor busied himself. By the time they were finished it was evening and Beri did, indeed, look like a million bucks.

  Trevor whistled. “Well. If the ambassador wasn’t enough, you sure look like the king of something now.”

  Beri straightened his shirt sleeves around sapphire cufflinks. “Trevor? You may well be the only person who keeps his job by the time we finish with this pce.”

  Trevor snorted. “Can I be team lead?”

  ~*~

  Liam announced himself the same way Katie always did–with the hard thrum of magic and a harder gust of wind down the hallway. Beri looked up from an outdated magazine Trevor had brought him to read after Beri turned away the coloring pages, but Liam did not immediately appear. It was twenty-three minutes before he finally heard the Lord of the Wild Hunt in the Hallway: “Look, for the eighth time. It is entirely legal for him to have killed my sister.” Beri stiffened. “It’s the wrong question. He’s incapable of it. They’ve been friends since they were little kids.”

  A gravelly, unfamiliar voice said, “From what the eyewitnesses at the club said, they were definitely more than friends on Saturday night.”

  Liam’s tone turned dry: “Well, that would be illegal, so I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say it.”

  “Sir, I did say it. It speaks to motive. If your sister was pregnant–”

  “No. She wasn’t pregnant. I’d know. She tells my wife everything.” Liam paused. “And she’s not stupid enough to let that happen.”

  “Smart girls get knocked up all the time. Abusive men kill them all the time. I mean. How else do you expin the space alien story?”

  Liam fell silent. After seven seconds, he said, “Yeah, that’s–that’s the part I’m worried about. The High King of Faerie can’t lie. Like. At all. I’m not sure if he physically can’t do it or if the magic in his Royal Mantle just makes lies into truth, but he can’t lie. So, if he says there were space aliens, there are only two options to expin it.”

  Please, Beri thought, squeezing his eyes shut. Please believe me. Please believe me by the time you come inside.

  Slowly, regretfully, Liam said, “Either the space aliens are the truth–” Beri’s heart leapt like a dog for a chew toy– “Or else he believes it’s true. Which would only be the case if he convinced himself it was.” Liam’s voice slowed, slowed, almost stopped again– “He must have seen something worse than space aliens.”

  Thoughtfully, the gravelly voice asked, “Do you think it’s possible? That witnessing, what, some kind of violence, could have snapped him like that?”

  Still slowly, Liam mused, “If he watched something bad happen to Katie, would it have driven him to a nervous breakdown?” He paused. “It might. It just might.”

  Beri listened to the tapping of Liam’s cane as he made his way down the hallway. Trevor looked up, then went a little pale. Beri stood, wringing his hands.

  For a person who looked very much like Katie, Liam looked nothing at all like Katie. They had simir delicate features and firm personalities, but where Katie was small and dark, Liam was tall and golden. Her eyes were chocote brown where his were emerald green. He wore the Seelie Court’s green and gold, whereas she had chosen apostate white as a tribute to her mother.

  “What’s up,” Liam said to Trevor, then turned to Beri with a start. “Oh, shit. I guess that door was open.”

  “I’m not mad, Liam,” Beri insisted. “And I never said, ‘space aliens.’ I said they looked like space aliens. Romuns, specifically. And they had a vessel–”

  Liam made his way into the conference room: step thump, step thump. He had walked with a cane since he was injured during the pace coup. He thumped across the tile to sit down with a sigh, resting both hands on the head of his cane. His face was haggard and golden stubble shadowed his jaw. It was very clear today that he was ten years Katie’s senior.

  Of course, Beri thought, taking the seat across from Liam. His sister has been missing for three-no, four days.

  Liam asked, “Were you hurt?”

  No one had asked him that since the paramedics. Beri lifted his left hand to show Liam the healing burns where he had grasped the Romun’s weapon.

  “Looks pretty bad.” Liam sighed again. “Look, kid. I know you’re convinced about the space aliens. I’m not going to argue with you about it. But I’d like you to tell me this: why did they look like something from Star Trek?”

  Beri blinked hard, twice, then asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you used to watch Trek with Katie.” Liam ran his hand over his facial hair, making a rasping noise against his calloused palm. “How did you get the bad guys who always lose in Trek? Why did you get aliens who spoke High Fey? Why didn’t you get a sentient ocean? Or big-eyed gray dudes? Something alien, man. You were with Katie. Vilins from one of her favorite shows stole her. Why do you think that is?”

  “I–” But Beri didn’t actually know what to say. “I don’t know.”

  “Because you had a little iron poisoning and you saw something you don’t want to believe is true.” Liam covered his eyes with one hand and sobbed. Beri was so shocked he leaped from his chair.

  “Please,” Liam wept. “Try to remember what really happened, kid. Please. After seventy-two hours the chance of finding her alive–” Liam sobbed again.

  “No,” Beri breathed. “She can’t be.”

  “Then why do you think you saw Romuns?” Liam demanded. “Goddammit. She was only nineteen. How am I supposed to tell my parents Katie is dead?”