Page 23 of The Unseelie Wish
Bayodan glanced up from his book. “I did not figure you as one for enjoying the finer details of contract law.”
“I don’t. But seeing as it affects me, I should probably know.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, putting her feet on the chair cushion and hugging her legs to herself. She hadn’t really done that since she was a kid. But she felt very small. “If I’m going to get tortured into wishing it away, I want to know exactly what I’m destroying. And Izael wouldn’t tell me the details.”
“Likely because he does not know them.” Bayodan placed a piece of ribbon in the book, marking his place, before shutting it. “He is not a fool as so many would paint him, but neither is he…eh…”
“Sane enough to focus?”
He chuckled. “Precisely.”
Alex smiled faintly. “I’m gonna miss hanging out with you, Goatula.”
“And I you. Hopefully, should all things end well, this will not be a goodbye this evening.” He set the book on the coffee table in front of him. “I have enjoyed this respite.”
“What about me?” Cruinn asked, smiling sweetly at her, lips made of the shattered fragmented glass they were composed of. It was clear that Cruinn was still not quite right in the head after what Valroy had done to them hundreds of years ago. Now and then, there was just a…well, blank, glossy look to their features, as their mind struggled to function. But Bayodan assured her that Cruinn was healing, if slowly.
“You’re awesome too, Disco Ball.” She smiled warmly at the shapeshifter.
“Good!” Cruinn turned their attention back to the TV. “Even if I don’t understand what you’re calling me.”
“It’s not an insult, just a silly nickname.” Alex was going to miss them both. A lot.
“That’s all I care about.” Cruinn went back to petting Pumpkin.
“The treaty has a few clauses,” Bayodan began. “First, it states that no fae, be they Seelie or Unseelie, may act against the other unless it is in self-defense, or if it is an unwanted trespass.”
“Like an Unseelie being out and about in Tir n’Aill during the day.” She still felt like a total asshole for having plant-ified those six guards. They still felt dead to her, even if Abigail hadn’t seemed that upset.
“Correct. If an Unseelie were to act directly against the Seelie, the treaty states that Valroy would be forced to surrender his throne, and vice versa.” Bayodan studied one of the oil paintings on the wall. It was a stuffy-looking, antique landscape piece.
Alex thought it was heinously uninteresting, but it was probably an original and therefore expensive. “And who makes sure that happens?”
“The gods. Not even Valroy or Abigail would stand against their will. All pacts made by the fae are—shall we say underwritten?—by those far older and more powerful than we.” Bayodan smirked. “Even if Valroy fancies himself a deity in his own right.”
She huffed a laugh. “No shit.”
“Another portion of the treaty states that no fae may set foot on Earth. This was why Izael’s travel was forbidden,” Bayodan continued. “But once the contract was agreed to between you two, it could not be broken. A willing contract with a mortal was not explicitly banned. Perhaps it should have been.”
“Is Izael going to be punished for breaking that clause of the treaty?”
“Hm. Doubtful. That clause was to be upheld by their respective monarchs. I doubt Valroy is terribly upset by this turn of events.” Bayodan shrugged. “A loophole, if you will.”
Fucking fae. She sighed. “And was there anything else to the treaty?”
“That the only way to end the treaty would be by mortal hands.” Bayodan’s expression grew sullen and dark. “And lo, we come to your importance in all this.”
Only a human can end the treaty. And no fae can attack the other. But a human with wacky fae magic doesn’t fall under that umbrella. That was why her magic was such a big deal. If Valroy made her attack the Seelie, it’d be an act of war that the Seelie could defend against. Poof. No more treaty. Just a series of “it’s self-defense” that would quickly turn into all-out war and genocide.
This was all making her exhausted. She put her forehead down on her knees. “This fucking sucks.”
“That, it does. I do not envy you, my dear. I do not envy you in the least.”
“Maybe I should just go jump off the roof. Kill myself. That’d solve the problem, right?” Not like she particularly wanted to die. No, she very much liked not being dead. But if Death-By-Seelie wasn’t an option, maybe Death-By-Splat should be at least considered.
“I would recommend against it for two reasons. One, I would rather not see you put yourself through such an ordeal.” Bayodan reached out and placed his hand atop her head, stroking her hair. “Second, if you think Izael is above resorting to necromancy to have you, you are severely underestimating how covetous that snake can be.”
Looking up, she grimaced. “Ew. Seriously? Hard pass, thanks.” That was all she needed—being a zombie on top of everything else.
Bayodan chuckled. “I thought as much.” His smile faded. “I wish I could give you proper counsel. I assume you have not yet settled upon your opinion of the Duke of Bones?”