Stone Song by D. L. McDermott Read Free Book Online Page A

least seemed somewhat human.”
    “He’s not,” said the Prince flatly. “And I would caution you against making that mistake with any of our kind. A flannel shirt and an affinity for electronics don’t make a Fae human. What makes you think the sorcerer and his right hand have your best interests at heart any more than I do?”
    “I don’t,” she admitted. “But Elada never held a knife to my friend’s throat.”
    The silver blade glimmered and then disappeared in the blink of an eye. “There,” said her adversary. “No knife.”
    Tommy scrambled to get away from the Fae, but the Prince said, “Sit,” in a voice resonant with power, and Tommy dropped to the floor, obedient as a dog.
    As Sorcha would be if she took off her cold iron.
    “Now can we talk?” asked the Prince, indicating a chair. He took a seat himself—the silver leaves in his hair tinkling like bells when he moved—and waited for her. She looked at Tommy’s pleading eyes and knew she didn’t have a choice.
    “What did Elada offer you?” asked the Prince.
    “Nothing but a warning about you,” Sorcha replied.
    “Because he and Miach wish to exploit your power for their own ends,” said the Prince pleasantly.
    “So do you.”
    The Prince shrugged. “You have a choice between two masters. We all answer to someone, and derive our place in the hierarchy, our prestige, from the one we serve. Miach MacCecht is a petty criminal and Elada is his right hand. They are exiles from the Court. When the Wild Hunt returns—which it will, have no doubt, whether you help me or not—Miach and Elada will die, along with all their followers.”
    “Why? When there are so few of you left, why kill your own kind?”
    “Because Miach MacCecht has possessed the power to free the Court for two thousand years. Because he has thwarted others who sought to do so. He is a traitor to his race and he will be punished for his treachery. And he has fathered an army of bastards who fancy themselves equal to the People. They will not be tolerated by the Queen when she returns.”
    “It seems to me that I have a third choice,” said Sorcha. “That’s to have nothing to do with either of you.”
    “Neutrality is not an option for you. Even if you sit this fight out, once the Court returns, they will find the last of the Druids. Some they will keep. The ones they know they can trust, the ones allied to true Fae. The ones who make themselves of use to us. The rest they will kill.”
    “You say that, but if I don’t help you free them, who will?”
    “There are others like you. Hundreds, possibly thousands of latent Druids. If you don’t help me, others will. Refuse me and your friend dies for nothing. Accept my offer, accept my training, unlock your gifts, and you will be rewarded.”
    She knew better than to accept rewards from the Fae. She didn’t believe the Prince’s brothers and sisters would spare her if she released them, but she couldn’t let Tommy die.
    She would have to go along with the Prince’s plan until Tommy was safe.
    “Let Tommy go and I’ll help you,” she offered.
    “Remove the cold iron you are wearing and we will strike a bargain.”
    “I can’t.”
    The Prince’s perfect brows rose. “Can’t, or won’t?”
    Both.
    “Can’t,” she replied. “It’s a piercing. I can’t remove it here.”
    He smiled. His nostrils flared, his eyes widened fractionally, and he assessed her once more, this time with avid interest.
    Cold terror washed over her. Keiran had never looked at her like that. To him, she had been an object. The Fae were not fond of recorded music. They were sybarites, hungry for sensation, because their own ability to feel was so atrophied. They prized the physical sensation, the vibration of real music. They acquired musicians the way rich men acquired stereo components, and gave them as much thought.
    They did not become aroused by them, and the Prince was clearly— visibly , through the denim in his