Homelands Pt. 12

But she was also a fucking badass.

She'd make Daphne regret overplaying her hand. Maybe even hear Lady Winter beg for mercy before kissing Iva's toes with those stupid blue lips of hers.

Iva closed her eyes and called to mind the image of golden fiddle. Perhaps unsurprisingly, nothing happened. But she didn't let that discourage her.

Instead, she switched tactics.

Calling to mind every out of body experience she'd had during sex, Iva set about trying to release her consciousness from its corporal prison. It was a bit different when she wasn't at the peak of ecstasy, however. She felt as though she were trying to untie a knotted rubber band using fingers coated in butter. Or, worse, make water run uphill.

But eventually, the tether fell away.

Up and up the sentience went. It looked down on the four women in their invisible cabin, seeing through walls that ought not have permitted such. Because that was the nature of its being. Its purpose. It saw what it should not. What others could not.

Including the golden fiddle, and the quiet man playing it high up in his tower.

No effort had even been necessary.

As soon as she regained control of her faculties, body and mind joined together once more, Iva gasped for air. And then realized Caronwyn was holding her up, which made her blush. She regained her balance quickly and said, "I saw him."

"Him?" Gabriella asked. "Which one? Eric?"

"Cahill?" Caronwyn asked.

Jennifer's lips were sealed, but her eyes added a third query.

"The fiddler."

"Oh," they said more or less as one, sounding disappointed. Which only made sense.

She kept forgetting how personal this was for them. Not that it wasn't for her. In the back of her mind, Iva sort of hoped that Frank might forget all that had transpired between them recently. The death of Brianna, and his children, and everything else she was at least indirectly responsible for. But she knew that was no more likely to happen than Cindy realizing that Gus was pretty chauvinistic and that being with him meant accepting a pretty narrow, ultra-conventional gender role for herself. She had a better shot at a spontaneous romance with Caronwyn. And the odds of that were looooooooong. No, she was here because she had no choice. Because it was the right thing to do. And the only way she'd have any hope of forgiving herself for the travesty of the past few months. Not so her companions.

All the more reason to get on with it.

"Let's go," Iva said. And before anyone could object, she teleported them to his tower.

The others were naturally disoriented, but more importantly, so was the fiddler. By the time his bow parted from the strings, Iva had snapped the tower off from the palace like twig and thrown them far out into the open sky, where they then hung still in open defiance of gravity. That would ensure that none of Daphne's children would soon join them.

As for Lady Winter herself, it came as no surprise when she appeared a moment later.

Looking rather upset.

Iva realized it was the first time she'd ever seen any emotion on the woman's face. Of any kind. Unless, of course, one counted the delight she'd feigned whenever greeting Iva. Her pale white cheeks turned deep blue and her eyes burned bright. The room turned went from cool to cold to subarctic. The liquid in Iva's eyes dried and her lips froze together.

But only for a moment. Then Daphne composed herself. With a sweetness as unnatural as high fructose corn syrup, she said, "Well if it isn't my favorite Autumnal Matriarch."

Jennifer and Gabriella pressed up against each other as they leveled their firearms at Daphne, though they had to know they'd have a better chance of hitting Neo with those things than Lady Winter. If they were even lucky enough to pull their triggers before she killed them. For her part, though, Caronwyn slipped behind the fiddler and pressed a stone knife to his throat with one hand while pressing the tip of a short spear into the valley separating two of his ribs with the other.

Iva could have kissed her. Especially after she saw Daphne's icy blue eyes widen.

The talismans had done their job. Or Caronwyn had. Whatever. It didn't matter.

"What do you want," Lady Winter said. Her cool breath made Iva shudder involuntarily, but that only put a smile on her face. Because it meant Daphne, she of legendary self-control, had just lost it for a second time. Only a little, but still. She had no idea why the man who'd yet to speak a single word meant so much to her, but he obviously did. "If you kill-"

"Relax," Iva said.

Daphne didn't visibly react to that, but the room temporarily dropped below zero again. Who'd have guessed she didn't appreciate people calling attention to her lack of composure?

A very pleasant chill ran down Iva's spine.

"Safe passage-"

"Done," Daphne said. Then she started towards the fiddler.

Feeling brave, Iva stopped her with two fingertips pressed against her breastbone. "-for us, our families, and anyone else who might want it. Including your own kin. Once we're gone, you step down, and a successor is chosen by the remaining residents of Winter, excluding those with your blood in their veins. Then, and only then, you get him back."

The smile Daphne gave her told Iva that she'd gone too far. And in doing so, she'd somehow ceded the upper ground. By issuing an excessively large demand, she'd revealed that she wasn't as clever as Daphne had been prepared to give her credit for. That, or she didn't know how much he was actually worth to Daphne, which meant she didn't know why he was important to her. And that, apparently, changed everything.

She wanted to slap the smug look off Daphne's face. To tell her that she had no way of knowing what Iva did or didn't know. That nothing at all had changed, and they still had a freaking knife to her fiddler's throat and a spear to his lungs.

But she knew better. They playing tug-of-war, and the momentum had shifted. Stomping her foot and pouting like a child wouldn't change that.

"No," Lady Winter said simply.

And how was Iva supposed to respond to that? By telling Caronwyn to go ahead and drive the knife home? Then they'd lose the only leverage they had. Daphne would be crazy to discount completely the chance that they'd go ahead and do that anyway, if she kept rejecting their demands. But of course she wasn't about to give up everything.

She wished Frank was there. That game theory stuff he'd babbled about a few times back in the Forgotten Tower could be pretty useful for situations like the one she was in.

Some of it came back to her. Outside options and inside options. She couldn't remember the difference between them, though. And credible commitment. How did that go? You couldn't promise to do something in the future that you'd have no incentive to actually do, when the time came. Even if it was in your interest at the moment to say you would.

That was why the paternalistic practice of men giving women diamond engagement rings had arisen. Well, that, and aggressive marketing by De Beers. But whatever. She remembered that conversation well. Frank had been quick to point out that it was only because of the patriarchy's bullshit double standards that there was a problem in need of solving, which had impressed her. Once she granted that, ridiculous as it was, there had been a time when women who accepted marriage proposals only to later get dumped incurred a great cost because they were likely to be seen as damaged goods thereafter-especially if, in the meantime, she'd aged out of that narrow window of peak beauty that lasted from about fifteen to fifteen and a half-Iva saw the problem. And how the ring, initially, had solved it. Back then, there was no expectation that the woman would give the ring back. So if he broke off the engagement, he threw away a big pile of money. Oh, sure, a chance at a life of happiness too, but one can't expect men to care about such things as much as the stuff in their wallets. Or something like that. The point was, if you could find a way to increase your own cost of reneging on a promise, or backing down from a threat, you could convince the other party to take said promise, or threat, seriously.

If Daphne let her leave with the fiddler, what would stop her from killing him anyway? Or holding onto him forever? Nothing. If she wanted a deal, she needed to find a way to convince Lady Winter that there really was something in it for her. That Iva would follow through with her side of things, even after she got what she wanted.

"I stay here, as collateral," Iva said, her heart pounding. "Once everyone who wants to leave is out, they send your fiddler back and you let me go." She thought about tacking on the demand for Daphne to step down again, but there really was no point. Even if she agreed, which she wouldn't, there'd be nothing to stop her from taking power again the moment everyone left. What would that accomplish?

"Safe passage for you and your families," Daphne said. "No one else, either from Winter or elsewhere." Iva started to ask why anyone outside Winter would need safe passage out of Winter, but then it hit her. As it probably should have long ago. Soon enough, Daphne would annex all the other seasonal courts. Autumn, Summer, and Spring alike would be blanketed in snow, until the end of time. And all of Iva's subjects, everyone she claimed to protect, would come under Daphne's rule. Except those belonging to House Farrier.

"Two houses each, from Autumn, Spring, and Summer," Iva said.

Daphne considered that for a time then nodded.

Relief and guilt flooded Iva at the same time. She'd won significant concessions from the most powerful, most terrifying woman alive. But she'd also signed the death warrants of countless innocent immortals. Actually, it was worse than that, if rumor was to believed. Lady Winter rarely killed anyone, at least not permanently. Because it was so much more fun to torture them over and over again. To inflict upon them not only infinite suffering, but the knowledge that there would never be any release, even in death.

"Make it three," she said, knowing what the response would be.

Sure enough, Daphne laughed. "I think not."

"Tell me again why I shouldn't shoot her in the face?" Gabriella asked.

The smile that comment earned her made Iva wince. She could only imagine how small and foolish it must have made the woman from Summer feel.

"Go," Iva told the others. "Gather up everyone from your houses. Err, clan," she corrected, looking at Caronwyn. "Plus one other. Send someone to Autumn to do the same for House Farrier and House Orwin. Take them..."

"Where?" Jennifer asked.

"The Hinterlands," Iva said, eyes darting towards Daphne. She didn't like announcing the strategy aloud, but what was to be gained from secrecy? Soon enough, there'd be but four courts in all the Homelands. And neither the Garden nor the Glade had ever been too receptive towards those seeking asylum. That left one option-the inhospitable land that might or might not even be populated, for all anyone knew. A place cartographers of yore might have marked, "Here be dragons." What would stop Daphne from following them there? Perhaps nothing. But they'd just have to chance it. "When everyone's there-"

"-send him back. Got it," Gabriella said in clipped tones.

Iva ground her teeth together. She understood that Summer was a land of action. A place where standoffs ended in bloodshed. But did the woman not realize how far out of their league Daphne was? That playing things any other way would end poorly for them?

"Are you sure about this?" Caronwyn asked. "Maybe someone should stay with you."

"Why?"

Daphne smiled a perfectly condescending smile. Iva winced.

There were at least two people in that room who knew beyond a doubt that if Lady Winter decided to violate the agreement, Caronwyn's presence wouldn't make a difference. Iva might or might not have a chance of getting out alive. The smart money was on "not." And the odds wouldn't change much if she had some backup.

"I've got this," Iva said.

Besides, she was the only one who wouldn't be missed, should it come to that.

"Take the fiddle," she added.

That spread Lady Winter's blue lips once again. Apparently the fiddle itself wasn't worth anything, at least not to her. But whatever. Let her feel smugly superior. The deal was struck. And Iva felt it just might stick. Probably. There was at least a decent chance.

She tried telling herself that Daphne wasn't the sort of woman to rely on subterfuge. Powerful as she was, when she felt like jabbing a knife in you, she'd do it from the front. Looking you in the eye while she did. Except she knew that wasn't true. The woman had no real modus operandi. Her limited experience pretending to be Daphne's pawn made that much clear. The best tool for the job was the one she preferred, be it sneaky and underhanded, an vulgar display of power, or something in between. She was not above violence, nor averse to seduction, deception, and illusion. She was clever, adaptable, patient, and beyond formidable. In fact, it was a wonder that-

"I can't have you thinking it's that easy to make demands of me, though," Lady Winter said, interrupting Iva's thoughts. She flicked her eyes to the side, and Iva felt something change even before she saw Jennifer disappear.

Daphne didn't just kill the woman. She erased her. There was no explosion. No blood or violence. Not so much as cloud of dust motes or anything. One moment, there was a dark-skinned woman wearing a suit and tie, the next there wasn't. Just like that.

"That's better," Daphne said.

Gabriella shrieked and fired a few shots at Lady Winter. They came out as flower petals. The blonde looked like she might try another means of avenging her late wife, until a cold glare from Daphne warned her that she might be next, and thereby froze her in place.

Lady Winter then snapped her fingers and a hole in the membrane opened up. "Make it quick," she said. "Or I might decide to revisit the terms of our agreement."

*****

Chapter Two

The primary Daphne, wherein most of her essence resided, conjured a stool and lowered herself onto the black leather cushion unhurriedly. She regarded Iva silently as she took a sip of blue wine, making the woman's mind itch more transparently than she probably realized.

Daphne pushed the many streams of sensory input flowing in from her other forms to the back of her mind. She probably ought to just go ahead and sever ties, allowing each Daphne to operate independently. But it had been such a long time since she'd truly divided her consciousness like that; the way lesser immortals did.

"Do you know why I haven't killed you?" she asked at last.

Aside from the slight pause she took before answering, Iva showed no reaction. Outwardly, anyway. The Libido she no doubt thought masked gave her away, though. She was every bit as taken aback by the question as Daphne had intended for her to be. "No."

"Care to venture a guess?"

Iva's lips tightened. "No," she said again, this time drawing the word out.

It was the same response she'd just given, of course. In a certain sense. But it said so much more than the previous one. And made Daphne smile. Most people in Iva's shoes would have said something about Quincy. But Iva was not most people. At one time, Daphne had considered her the more promising of her proteges. She surely recognized that it was a trick question. Just as she must have understood that the bind she'd supposedly put Daphne in was all to easy to slip out of. At least for someone of Daphne's capabilities.

The woman had her flaws. Including a refusal to confront who she really was. There also the small matter of her vain attempt to convince a certain wolf pup that she was some sort of noble peacemaker, who'd saved his family from the icy clutches of the evil snow witch.

But unlike Daphne's other pupil, who was somewhat less prone to self-deception but far more impetuous, Iva was not yet a lost cause. Titania would never again submit to her will. The fey woman's usefulness had peaked, and it was time to dispose of her. Iva, though, had yet to hit her prime. And she'd continue to be amusing, if not directly useful.

"Because you and I are going to make a little bet," Daphne said. She stared over the top of her silver chalice at the woman who'd offered herself as collateral to ensure the viability of a deal Daphne still violate without consequence, should she so desire. A woman who now recognized the futility of her gesture, though she did her best to hide it. "And the satisfaction I'll gain when I prevail, however many years from this day, will far outweigh the the pleasure I'd derive from watching you die in the here and now."

"Um...thanks?" Iva said.

That was another thing that separated her from Titania. The latter was always trying to prove how strong she was, often in the most impulsive way. She was terrible at choosing her battles, which even Daphne felt the need to do from time to time. She could still be in Faerie-not that there'd be a Faerie for much longer-instead of freezing in a cell alongside the son she'd thought she'd rescued. The one she gave a damn about, that was. She'd not once so much asked about the other one, who at least had some musical talent. But instead she'd given everything up for the more effeminate and less talented of her sons. And just might pay for it with her immortal life. Autumn's last matriarch was a different story, though. She might be too quick to resort to failed attempts at humor when cornered, but at least she recognized the gravity of her situation.

"Wine?" Daphne asked, offering a crystal goblet to her guest.

Meanwhile, Gabriella and Eric were finally preparing to go before Summer's Matriarch; Caronwyn was bringing her son back to life; and Lena had just arrived in the Eternal Garden with Zach. Daphne was tempted to smite them all right there. The latter two especially. But she could at least wait until she was done with Iva.

Or, better still, allow them to live their lives in constant fear for months, or even years, before finally meting out their punishment. That way, they could provide her with a little sustenance first. And amusement, for that matter.

Iva eyed her warily then nodded and accepted the goblet. She didn't drink from it, though, until she probed it with a thin streamer of energy.

Titania, of course, would never even have accepted it. Because with the fey, a gift was never just a gift. Even the simplest gesture of hospitality was thought to create an irrevocable obligation to return the favor. Which, among their kind, was as good as true, if only by virtue of their belief in such. Which was fine, of course. Daphne found no real insult in Titania's refusal to accept the smallest of offerings. But she didn't love having to accommodate herself to a lesser woman's ways. With Iva, she could do what came naturally. Unless the circumstances called for hastier action, she preferred to be polite for as long as it took to lower the other person's defenses. There was, after all, nothing more exquisite than the look in their eyes when they realized their deaths weren't imminent, despite being inevitable. The very look she saw in Iva's eyes at that moment, though she tried to hide it.

Energy bled out of the other woman's Libido. Most of it dissipated quickly, but something more than a light trick made its way to Daphne's Libido. In relative terms, the inadvertent offering was like a few drops added to a great ocean. But Daphne got chills all the same.

Then she decided that while most of the other matters could wait, the Queen of Faerie need not. With a different body, one she gave plenty of autonomy, Daphne resurrected her daughter. She then informed Yvette that she was to decide the fates of her murderers. If she impressed Daphne with her decision, the girl would get to live, despite her failures. In light of Titania's treachery, those could perhaps be set aside. But if she didn't show sufficient creativity or cruelty, her newly-restored life would be forfeit. As would Lance's, since he'd vouched for her. She'd tear his throat out, after Devouring the girl he'd fathered.