28

We spend a full day in bed, recovering. The sex is slow and gentle, and we kiss more than we speak to each other. Feather doesn’t cry, which concerns me a little. Whatever she went through in Rothenfel, before I arrived, it made her rebuild some of the defenses around her heart.

I want to give her all the time she needs to heal, and to open up to me. But I know we can’t linger like this. One of the Fae-hunters is dead for certain, and I’m fairly sure I saw the Bahkauv swallow the other, but thanks to all the destruction we wrought, more hunters will be arriving in Visseland with all possible speed. We’d best be gone before that .

After I left Feather in Rothenfel, I didn’t leave at once. I spent hours in the library, tearing through books, trying to figure out a way to circumvent the will of the Wild Hunt. Then I sat motionless and empty for a long time, lost in the center of the mountain of books.

I did not weep. My grief was too great for tears, too heavy for sobs. A sorrow as vast and soundless as the Void.

At last I scraped together the frayed shreds of my will, and I searched for the Nexus, a necessary component of the transference. Before, whenever I needed to move the house, the Nexus revealed itself to me at once, sometimes in the form of a globe or a watch, sometimes as a ring or a hand mirror. But this time, I could sense nothing. And when I checked the place where Feather and I saw the green hourglass, it was still there… except it was dead. No sign of life or magic.

I tried the transference ritual anyway, with the shell of the Nexus. But the house refused to budge. It kept pushing visions of Feather into my mind, until I finally understood what it was trying to say—that she had become the new Nexus. Since she was alive, whole, and nearby, the house still retained some of its power, but without her, it would not survive long. And she was in peril. The house could sense as much, though it could not tell me the source of the danger. So I rallied my housemates, who were more than happy to join me in rescuing her.

It was, perhaps, a foolish thing to do—charging into Rothenfel in my Krampus form, in the company of four eldritch creatures. But I barely thought about the risk. All I knew was panic, sheer terror that I might not get to Feather in time.

Now that she’s back, I sense the house’s satisfaction. I’ve never been so closely in tune with its emotions before, but since the transference attempt and our clumsy breakthrough in communications, I’m far more sensitive to its aura. It’s almost… smug. As if everything that transpired was part of its plan, and it’s happy with the result .

I’m not sure the Wild Hunt will be pleased with any of this. In fact, I’m surprised Nocturis hasn’t shown up yet to berate both of us and annihilate me. I know he’ll be watching, wanting to ensure that his orders are followed.

Much as I dread speaking with him, I hate the uncertainty more. It’s time to have a conversation with my overseer and to find out, one way or the other, what my fate and Feather’s will be.

Leaving Feather asleep, I head to the lowest level of the house. Meerwunder is sprawled in the center of the torture room, snoring, glutted with human flesh. Carefully I sidle past him, take a silver horn from its shelf, and open the trapdoor, the portal to the Void. I step out onto the underbelly of the house, staring up at the cloudy pathways and the swirls of starry color in the blackness.

I’m only supposed to use the silver horn in dire situations. I’ve blown it twice before, and both times I was reprimanded for it. This time, I have no choice. I need Nocturis’s immediate attention.

But as I lift the horn to my lips and I’m puckering up to blow, Nocturis himself appears on one of the cloud-paths, mounted not on a horse, but on a gigantic black dog with ears as sharp as daggers. The unnatural length of its legs reminds me of Wolpertinger.

The dog leaps from the cloudy pathway, extends immense batlike wings, and soars through the Void, covering the distance between us within seconds and landing gracefully on the house.

Nocturis swings off the beast’s back and approaches me. Wonder of all wonders, he’s smiling smugly, the way I imagine the house would look if it had a face.

“Well done,” he says.

“The fuck?” I retort.

“You’ve done well.” He pronounces each word slowly, as if he’s explaining to a small child .

Either he’s going mad, or I am. “You do realize that we wrecked a city and killed dozens of people, including a couple of Fae-hunters? And Feather hasn’t left me. In fact, she has to stay. The house has turned her into the Nexus, and if I had to guess, it did that on purpose as a preemptive measure, knowing you would command her to leave. It didn’t want to be parted from her so it made sure that wasn’t a possibility, and I only wish I’d thought of it first—”

“Excellent.” Nocturis grins, rubbing his hands.

I thought my wounds had healed, but maybe I’m still iron-sick and delirious. I must be. This is not the reaction I expected. It makes no sense.

“You threatened to annihilate me,” I point out. “You all but threatened to kill Feather . You said if we broke the rules—”

“If I really intended to harm her or annihilate you , ask yourself this question—why was she given a Krampus bell?”

“A mistake?”

“A plan.”

I stare at him, unable to make sense of it. “You wanted me to save her. To take her in—”

“And to fall for her. Yes.” Nocturis clasps my shoulder. “I wish it could have happened sooner. But we couldn’t find the right one for you. Once we did find her, we had to wait until she was ready. And then you both had to be tested, to ensure that your love was true, that you would defy the universe and sacrifice anything for each other. You had to believe your relationship was forbidden, and yet pursue it anyway. We had to know that the mate bond was secure.”

“You know about the mate bond,” I whisper.

“Of course. This experiment with you and your pretty little Feather is just one of a series of redemptive efforts undertaken by me, under the direction of the god-star Andregh himself. A new sort of Final Task, as it were, with true love as part of the equation. You see, we realized that after completing their Final Task and receiving corporeal form, many ex-riders either squandered their mortal lives or slipped back into selfish, destructive patterns. So we’re aiming to achieve a more permanent, wholesome change by finding their other selves, their missing piece, their mate. We saw excellent results with a certain foursome in another realm—perhaps you’ve heard of Paemon, Abraxas, and Helix?”

I shake my head.

“Ah, well—they’ve found their missing piece, and their redemption is complete.” Nocturis pats the side of his dog-monster’s face companionably. “And so is yours.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Perhaps this will clarify matters.” Nocturis clears his throat. “Krael, known as Krampus, outcast son of Faerie… with the god-star Andregh’s blessing, I hereby declare you free from your service to the Wild Hunt. Any judgment you deliver as Krampus, from this point forward, is yours to choose. The house, of course, belongs to Feather. With its geistfyre, the two of you can go anywhere you like in this world. You will both exist as long as the house does—which should be another millennia or so, if you tend it well. Enjoy your future together.”

With that, he leaps astride the bat-winged dog, gives me a final salute, and gallops off toward the cloud-path again. As his form recedes, the words he spoke finally take root in my mind, and seeds of stunned joy begin to bloom.

“You glorious motherfucking bastard,” I say faintly.

When I turn around, I see Feather, frozen halfway out of the trap door, staring at the retreating figure of Nocturis. She glances at me, her eyes wide. “You left our bed, and the house told me where you were, and I…”

“Did you hear?” I say hoarsely. “Did you hear what he said? ”

“That you’re free?” Her lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears. “That you and the house are mine for a long, long time? Yes, I heard.”

I try to keep myself from breaking, but I can’t. The tears are already brimming in my eyes. “Shit. I’m free . I’m fucking free.”

She springs out of the trap door and leaps for me. I catch her in my arms and swing her clean off her feet, around in a giddy circle. Then I bury my face in the curve of her neck and I sob, harsh and heavy, while she holds me tight.

The house and the monsters weren’t my prison. I didn’t need to escape them. I needed absolution. I needed to be craved and valued by someone who knew the wickedest of my deeds, and considered me worth loving anyway.

I needed this. I needed her.

“You fucking saved me,” I choke out against her warm skin. Her shoulder is wet with my tears, but she only squeezes me tighter.

“They’re not going to annihilate you,” she gasps. “They’re not going to make me leave you. We’re leaving together. We’re a family, not like—” Her words break off, and a sob jars her body. “Not like him . He didn’t want me, Krael. My own brother.”

I rear back, taking her face in both my hands. “ I want you,” I snarl. “I will want you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“You fucking better.” She gives a tearful laugh. “And I will want you just the same.”

“Then there’s only one thing left to decide.” I kiss her nose, then her forehead. “Where would you like to go?”

Her eyes light up, and I can tell she’s about to express a wish she has carried for a long time. “Maybe… somewhere with a beach? And palm trees?”

“My lady has spoken.” I plant a swift, hot kiss on her mouth. “So shall it be.”

We move our house to the Lucernas Islands, to a remote cove between two arms of a mountain. We’re a short walk from the beach, and thanks to my geistfyre, we’re within easy range of a few charming towns with well-stocked pubs.

The transference was easy this time, since Feather, the house, and I share a connection. I was still concerned about the great pulse of power generated by the move, but it didn’t seem to hurt Feather at all. In fact, judging by her soft gasp and the light shining in her big brown eyes, she rather enjoyed it.

On our first night in the islands, I build a bonfire on the beach, to the great delight of the Imp, who proceeds to set palm fronds on fire and swallow them whole. I spread a cloth on the sand and lay out my haul from a local pub that will probably become our new favorite. Besides a savory spread of food, I uncork a couple bottles of truly exceptional wine, and we both indulge more deeply than usual.

After the first bottle, I’m feeling a pleasant warmth, but Feather, who never drinks, is rosy and bright-eyed, slurring the edges of her words.

“Are you going to keep on being Krampus?” she asks loudly. “It doesn’t seem quite the same here, does it? It’s not dark and dreadful and cold anymore. Everything is so green, and so warm . I’m warm right down to my bones. Too warm for clothes.” She pulls her dress off and tosses it aside, then stands up, swaying, dressed only in her bustier and panties. She has a belly piercing now, and the little jewel I placed above her navel glints in the firelight .

“I suppose I will mete out justice if I see the need,” I reply. “People can be just as wicked in warm climates.”

She smirks at me. “I do feel rather wicked.”

“And what about you?” I lean back on my palms, admiring her. “Do you have any other dreams of what you want to be? Confess them, and I’ll do my best to make them come true.”

Her eyes narrow, and her lower lip emerges in a pout that reminds me momentarily of the Little Sister I saved from the cabin.

“I may not have lofty dreams of justice and retribution,” she says, waving her arms in a grand gesture. “But I do, in fact, enjoy my current line of work.”

“Indeed? And what is that?”

She smiles at me indulgently, as if I’m being silly and obtuse, and I swear in the fire-glow, with her brown hair wind-tossed and her cheeks wine-flushed, she has never looked more beautiful. “I like being a maid to the very frightening, very fuckable Krampus.”

“You’re the fuckable one,” I growl, jumping to my feet.

She squeals and darts a few steps away.

“Don’t run, little one.” A feral grin spreads over my face. “I warned you, if you run, I must pursue. And I can’t be held responsible for what happens once I catch you.”

She gives me a slow, deliberate blink that makes me realize she’s not as drunk as she seems.

“With you,” she says softly, “I never fear being caught.”

Then, with a naughty, daring smile, she races off down the beach, running barefoot through the cool foam of the midnight ocean, under the twinkling stars.

And of course, I chase her.