Bourn’s Edge by Barbara Davies Page B

Before Cadel, Tarian was Mab’s champion.”
    Cassie gaped at him. No wonder Tarian had been able to despatch Armitage’s men so easily. “But why?” He looked confused at her question. “I mean why now ? What’s changed?”
    He considered. “Boredom?”
    She glanced at the muscled Fae. “With Cadel?”
    “He was never going to be able to erase Tarian from Mab’s memory. They were the perfect match. Tarian’s bloodlust and battle lust almost outstripped the Queen’s.”
    Cassie blinked. “They were lovers?”
    Einion smiled, remembering. “For a while. Mab enjoyed taming Tarian, being tamed by her.” His smile dimmed. “But Tarian grew weary of their constant arguments, their battles of wits. Her bloodlust waned, but Mab’s did not. Tarian tried to find another way, distanced herself.” He sighed. “And in so doing, she hurt and angered the Queen.”
    “What happened?”
    “Exile.” He shrugged. “It was that or unmake her. But Mab loved her too much for that.”
    “And that was, what, two years ago?”
    He nodded. “After Tarian, Cadel was restful, straightforward. He’s a man of simple needs—a battle, a fuck, a feast—he likes nothing better. At first Mab found him refreshing, but now . . .”
    Cassie could see where this was leading. “Let me guess. She wants Tarian back?” Anwar moved his paw on her leg, and she ruffled his coat with her fingers.
    “She does.” Einion grimaced. “Those of us who are her friend as well as subject have tried to make the Queen see that it’s a lost cause. She won’t believe it, but in the end she surely must.”
    “What will happen then?”
    “I fear this time she will unmake Tarian.”
    Cassie felt a jolt of alarm. “You keep talking about unmaking. What do you mean?”
    The gaze he turned on her was grave. “We are not like your kind, Cassie Lewis. The Fae cannot die, they must be unmade. And in Faerie, the Queen alone wields that power.”
     
    TARIAN LOOKED UP as the Queen and her page entered the pavilion, Olwydd padding at their heels. The wolfhound recognised Tarian at once and came over to greet her, but Mab called him away. With a mournful look, the dog obeyed.
    Tarian gave a perfunctory bow and continued dressing.
    “Just like old times,” said Mab.
    She grunted and straightened her tunic.
    “Oh, don’t be like that.” Mab’s eyes danced. “You know you’ve missed me. Deep down, you’re glad to be back.” She gestured, and her page scurried across the tent, grabbed one of the two stools, and carried it back to her. She nodded her thanks, smoothed her gown over her thighs, and sat down.
    “We had an agreement,” growled Tarian, buckling her belt.
    Mab pretended to be puzzled. “Yet here you are.” She gestured to her page again. He hurried to the trestle table in one corner and began to pour mead from a ewer into a cup.
    “Only because you took Cassie Lewis hostage.” Tarian sat on a stool and pulled on one of the soft leather boots before reaching for its mate.
    Mab accepted the cup from her page and gave Tarian an arch look. “Do you expect me to believe you came back to save a mere mortal?” She sipped her mead.
    “Yes.” She stamped her feet into the boots until they felt comfortable. “Because it’s true.”
    The Queen laughed. “If I believed that, you would indeed no longer be the Tarian I knew.”
    “Believe it.”
    Mab’s smile vanished. “Have a care, Tarian. To prize the welfare of a mortal above that of one’s Queen is treason. And we both know the penalty for that.”
    Olwydd stopped licking his privates and snapped at a fly that had been buzzing around the tent.
    Tarian folded her arms and regarded Mab. “Why are you doing this?”
    “I would have thought that was obvious. I want you back.” The Queen gestured at Tarian’s attire. “There. Doesn’t that feel better?”
    “No,” said Tarian. “Let the mortal go, Mab.”
    “Why should I?”
    “Because she’s done nothing to hurt you or any of