My mother led Curikan and Dougal off toward the corner.
I turned to Kipa, feeling lost and afraid. He held out his arms and I slid into his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder as he gently rubbed my back.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“I’m not sure, but I don’t like any of it. Don’t worry, love. You’ll be fine. I’ll make certain of it, and so will your mother. We won’t let anything happen to you. I promise you that.” He glanced up, over my head, scowling as he stared at the Banra-Sheagh.
A few moments later, Phasmoria and the men returned. She turned to the Banra-Sheagh. “I claim the right to speak to my daughter. You cannot refuse me.”
The Banra-Sheagh looked like a storm was brewing. “Very well.”
Phasmoria motioned to me and to Kipa and we followed her out of sight of the throne.
“What’s going on?” I burst out, but she shushed me.
“Your grandfather has finally got what he wants—he’s got his hooks in your father. He’s been out to lure your father back into the fold ever since Curikan ran away from the family hundreds of years ago. It’s not a magical spell, not a charm, but apparently, Dougal convinced the Banra-Sheagh that Curikan should be punished for leading you into an Exosan lifestyle. When he heard about Blackthorn’s death, it proved the final catalyst, especially since word got around that you work with Herne and Ember.”
I stared at her. “You mean that this was all a plot to drag my father back to the family clan? Why involve me?”
“Because Dougal wants you, too. As far as I can see, he stirred the pot with the Banra-Sheagh, and then once that was set, he convinced Curikan that the one way to keep you from being labeled pariah was for him to knuckle under. He dangled you like a carrot. Your father’s trying to prevent you from being cast out of our people. They don’t dare cast me out, or any of the Bean Sidhe, given we’re under the Morrígan’s direct orders, but your father’s now afraid you’ll become a casualty in this scheme that he believes the Banra-Sheagh thought up.” Phasmoria leaned against a wall. “His concerns are understandable, if misguided.”
“I won’t do it! My friends are all Exosan—”
“Yes, well, apparently the Banra-Sheagh took what Dougal said and ran with it. She’s planning to banish every Ante-Fae who identifies as such from ever being part of our culture again. This is the point in history where the Exosan become a separate division of the Ante-Fae race. I imagine, though I’m not sure, that she’ll declare the Exosan to be enemies of the crown. Even if we get you out of here, you’ll be considered pariah, and they’ll be in worse trouble if they communicate with you. I doubt if there will be a war, but the old guard are committed to keeping tradition alive, even when those traditions are to our detriment.” Phasmoria glanced over her shoulder.
“Then I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t. If I give in to my grandfather, I’ll live the rest of my life under his fist, cooped up in a massive house in Scotland, and I’ll lose you. How on earth did my father think this would encourage me to—”
“He thought it would keep you safe. Your father’s sweet but he can be very short-sighted.” She straightened. “Raven, this is up to you. I’ll stand behind you, regardless of your choice. If you want me to set you free so you can become the Chatelaine, I will.”
Kipa turned me around. “Choose what you feel is best in your heart. We’ll have to part if you choose to return to your family clan. I doubt your grandfather considers the gods a good choice for a paramour.”
“Dougal has a strange hatred for the gods,” Phasmoria said. “He feels they’re worthless.”
“I don’t have to think about it,” I said, my heart dropping. I wasn’t willing to give up my mother, my life, my love, or my friends. I loved Curikan and I was proud of being Ante-Fae, but I wasn’t going to turn my back on everything my father had taught me because my grandfather was pissed off. “I choose you, Mother. I choose to stay with Kipa. I choose my friends. I choose everything and everyone I love…except…I guess, my father.” I turned to Phasmoria. “What will you do? You’re Exosan, too.”
“As I said, she doesn’t dare mess with the Bean Sidhe, given we could bring the Morrígan down on her ass and regardless what the Queen thinks, there’s nothing she can do that will prevail over my black-hearted winged goddess.”
I dug in my heels. “I’m not giving up Trinity and Vixen and everyone I know, even if they can never talk to me again. Ember killed Blackthorn because he was going to torture her—he was a vile, wretched creep.” I was young and part of the world, and I saw no problem with intermingling with other races and spirits.
“Are you sure? There may be no turning back,” Phasmoria said.
I thought for a moment. “I’m sure.”
“Very well, let’s return. You’ll have to tell the Banra-Sheagh, and be prepared for her to blow up and sound like she’s going to rip you apart.”
We returned to the others and slowly took our place in front of the throne.
I stood at attention, staring up at the Banra-Sheagh.
“Well?” came her imperious question.
“You leave me no choice.” I turned to my father and Dougal. “Neither do you. I have no choice but to exile myself from our people. I choose my mother. I choose my friends. I choose my lover. I choose everything that is now my life, because I’m loyal to all of them. If the rest of the Ante-Fae can never speak to me again, then so be it. I choose to remain Exosan, and I formally disavow my father, my grandfather, and my heritage.”
As I spoke, the Queen grew very quiet, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see my grandfather fuming. The next moment, my father let out a cry, but my grandfather grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.
“She made her choice,” Dougal said. He turned to me. “Raven BoneTalker, daughter of Phasmoria, you are no longer a member of the Clan of the Highland Crags Black Dogs. You are no longer my granddaughter.” He gave my father a hard shake that made me want to smack him a good one.
My father turned to me and, with tear-stained eyes, whispered, “Raven BoneTalker, you are no longer my daughter. Our bonds are forever broken. You will return to me the money I paid for your house.”
Phasmoria, hands on hips, faced my grandfather and my father. “This is your fault—this is your doing. I hope you lie awake at night tortured by it. Because you both deserve every heartbreak in the world this brings.”
I met my father’s eyes one last time, then turned away, feeling oddly free. So much had gone south, but I had made my choice. And now, I had to find a new way to reinvent my history.
Chapter Six
After that, the rest of the meeting became a blur. My father tried to say something but my grandfather jerked him back. My mother hustled me back in front of the Queen, who stood, then turned her back to me. One by one, all the guards did the same, and finally, my grandfather and then my father.
“Hear me, Banra-Sheagh, and the Court of the Ante-Fae,” my mother said, her voice reverberating against the walls.