I stumbled on the way out, and it was Galen who lifted me in his arms and crawled into the middle limo on his knees. There'd be a picture the next day of me with blood on my face, looking very frail in Galen's arms. Which meant that some bravely stupid reporter, instead of taking cover when the guns and magic came out, had trailed us to take more pictures. I guess you don't win Pulitzers by playing it safe.

I was actually in the limo, still in Galen's lap with the other guards piling in, when I realized it wasn't my aunt's personal car. It was just an ordinary stretch limo. Which meant it was actually bigger inside than the Black Coach, but not half so scary.

The door shut, someone slapped the roof twice, and we were moving. Doyle walked over everyone's feet and made Galen scoot down so he could sit on the other side of us, against the far door. No one argued with him. Rhys and Kitto were on the half seat across from us. Barinthus was on the swiveling seat that faced us. The seat left a sort of short hallway for others to reach more seats even deeper into the limo. When they said stretch, they meant it.

Sage and Nicca were there in the next open space, on the last two swivel seats so they could sit sort of sideways with their wings. Usna was curled on the far side, with his legs tucked under him, trying to squeeze water from his calico hair. He looked disgusted with the whole arrangement. Maybe he just didn't like being wet.

I realized dimly that Galen's pants were wet and it was soaking into my panties. I pushed off his lap, and I could almost stand normally, one of the pluses of being short. "You're getting me wet."

"Everyone is wet except for you and Barinthus," Usna said from the front.

Galen caught my arm, touching my face and the blood that had already gotten tacky to the touch. "Is any of this yours?"

"No."

Barinthus was looking at him. "I saw blood on Frost's jacket, even after the water. If it doesn't wash off after that much water, then it is fresh."

"I noticed it, too." Doyle leaned around Galen, water glistening on his face in the overhead lights. "How badly are you hurt?"

Frost shook his head. "Not badly."

I touched the dark stain on his left shoulder. "Take off your jacket."

He pushed my hand away. "I am not badly hurt."

"Let me see for myself," I said.

He looked up at me with eyes gone as dark a grey as they could go, like clouds before a storm. He was angry, but I didn't think it was at me; maybe about the situation. "Frost, please."

He pulled off his jacket too quickly, and winced with the movement. He turned those dark storm eyes to Doyle. "It is inexcusable that that human got a shot off."

I knelt on the seat beside Frost to see the bloodstain on his shirt. "I can't see through the shirt."

He grabbed the sleeve near the seam and pulled, ripping the sleeve away.

"If I had shot him before he fired, then the police might never believe that he would have shot at all."

"You deliberately allowed him to fire." Frost said it as if he didn't believe it.

He wasn't the only one who was surprised. It didn't seem like good reasoning to me. My hand must have squeezed his arm, because he hissed. I mumbled, "Sorry," and inspected the wound. The bullet had gone in one side and out the other. It looked clean enough, and the bleeding was already slowed, nearly stopped.

"Bullets will not kill us, Frost, and Meredith was lost behind you. He couldn't have hit her."

"So you let Frost take a bullet," I said. For the first time in all of this, my skin ran cold. It was as if the fear had been waiting for me. Waiting until I got somewhere more secure.

Doyle thought about that for a second, then nodded. "I allowed the policeman to get one shot off, yes."

"The bullet went through me, Doyle, and lodged in the wall. If it had been lower, it would have gone through Merry."

Doyle frowned. "It does not seem like good reasoning, now that you say it like that."

Barinthus leaned forward and passed a hand just in front of Doyle's body. He pulled back, rubbing his fingers together as if he'd touched something. "A spell of reluctance, very subtle, but it clings to you like the remnants of some cobweb."

Doyle nodded. "I can sense it." He closed his eyes for a moment, and I felt the small flare of magic as he burned off the last pieces of the spell. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and opened his eyes. "There are few who could work such upon me."

"How is Frost's shoulder, Meredith?" Barinthus asked.

"I'm no healer, but it looks clean enough."

"None of us is a healer," Barinthus said, "and such a lack could mean the difference between life and death someday. I will speak to the queen about assigning you a healer."

The limo went around a corner, and I nearly fell. "You need to sit down," Galen said. "If you don't want to get wet, then sit on Barinthus's lap."

"I do not think so," Barinthus said, and his voice held a tone I'd never heard before.

"Why not?" Galen said.

Barinthus spilled his long leather coat off his lap where he had folded it shut. His pale blue pants were dark and stained just over the groin. "I am not exactly dry."

There was one of those moments of awkward silence, but Galen knew just what to say. "Is that what I think it is?"

Barinthus closed his coat over his lap again. "It is."

"What will you tell the queen?" Doyle asked.

I went to kneel between Barinthus's chair and the arm of Rhys's and Kitto's seat. "The queen can't hold him to the rule."

"The queen can do as she pleases," Barinthus said.

"Now, wait, she sent the guards to me to be lovers, right?" They all turned solemn faces to me. "Well, we had sex. It was partly metaphysical, but isn't her rule that anyone the ring reacts to, whom she sends to me, is fair game?"

You could see the tension begin to leave them, much like the water that was dripping down from their hair and into their faces. Everyone's hair was plastered to his head, even Galen's and Rhys's curls. It takes a lot of water to make curls lie straight. Everyone who hadn't worn black had water stains on his clothes. How much water had been in that last burst of power?

"So I am now one of your men?" Barinthus asked, voice soft, almost joking.

"If it will save you from being put to death, yes."

"Only for that reason, and no other?" His face was very serious as he gazed down at me. I had to look away.

I'd always thought of Barinthus as my father's friend, our adviser, a sort of uncle. Even when the ring had recognized him months ago, it had never occurred to me to include him in my lovers. And he had not asked.

"The queen will be royally pissed," Usna said from the front. "She has been meeting with you for weeks, discussing which men to send to the princess. Which men would the ring recognize?" He'd given up trying to get his hair dry and was starting to unbutton his shirt, though he'd have to take his shoulder holster off first if he wanted to lose the shirt. "How could you not have told her that the ring knew you?"

"How do you know this wasn't my first taste of the ring?"

Usna gave him a withering look. "Please, Barinthus, the queen sent you with the other guards to try the ring when the princess first returned to court. Because you did not mention it, we all assumed the ring did not know you." He struggled out of his shoulder rig so that it flapped around his waist, and he began to peel the shirt from his skin, revealing that the red and black in his hair trailed down his body, in places. "The ring certainly knew you tonight."

"I never lied to anyone about the ring," Barinthus said.

"No, we never lie to one another," Usna said, "but we'll omit so much that it would be more sporting to simply lie." He let the wet shirt fall to the floor of the limo and stood up enough to start working at his belt.

"Are you actually going to strip in the car?" I asked.

"I am wet through and through, Princess. If I can get the clothes off, I will begin to dry. The clothes will stay wet longer than my skin will."

"It is true that the ring sparked for me when Meredith first returned to the courts, but I thought then that I could be of more use to her if I remained at the courts, as her ally. Sadly, I still think so."

"The queen will give you no choice," Usna said, "except to see the Hallway of Mortality before you bed the princess. That choice you may have."

I looked at Barinthus. I wanted to ask him if he would claim his true name before the entire court, or at least the queen. But I couldn't ask without giving away that there was more secret to tell. It was his secret, not mine.

If he understood my look, he ignored it. "When I touched the ring many months ago, it was nothing like today. Nothing."

"The ring has grown stronger," Doyle said.

"That alone may not be it," Rhys said.

We looked at him.

He moved aside his soaking-wet trench coat and held up the chalice. Those of us who knew it was back were shocked. Barinthus, who hadn't known, was beyond shocked.

"Where did you get that?" Barinthus finally managed in a voice that was barely a whisper.

"I rescued it from the dais where it had fallen. It was hidden underneath a flap of your coat. I don't think anyone got a picture of it. When Barinthus stood, I palmed it, as discreetly as I could."

"It was locked in the makeup case, wrapped in cloth," I said.

Nicca held up the small case from where it had been sitting by his feet. "I fetched it with us, as Doyle directed. I had not held it before, so I did not notice the change in weight."

"How did it get out of the box?" I asked.

Doyle motioned, and Nicca opened the box. The black silk covering lay folded in the bottom of the case. I started to pull the silk out, to help put the chalice inside again, but Doyle said, "No, Merry, do not touch it and any one of us at the same time. We are not equipped to do another emergency circle of power. I am not entirely certain that it would be successful inside the metal of the car while it was moving."

"Do you think we contained the energy?" Rhys asked.

"I do not know," he said.

"I do not mean," said Barinthus, "where did you get it just now. I mean how did it come to you?"

"I dreamed of it, and when I woke it was in bed with me."

"I thought this was a secret," Sage said.

"Barinthus needs to know," Rhys said, "and all cats love to keep secrets."

"Princess and Darkness have no problem with that?" Sage asked.

Doyle and I exchanged glances, then both of us shook our heads. "No," we said together.

Usna had managed to wiggle out of all his clothing. He crawled toward us with his shoulder holster flapping loose over his bare shoulders and his sheathed sword in one hand. Crawling on all fours, even with the sword in one hand, seemed strangely suited to him. His right shoulder and most of his upper arm were black, and, if I remembered, his back was red and black. A flash of red decorated what I could see of his right hip, and the calf of his left leg.

He spoke to them, but he stared at me. "What came in a dream?" His voice was lightly curious, and held none of the heat of his gaze.

"This," Rhys said.

When Usna saw what Rhys held, he raised up on his knees and cursed long and soundly in Gaelic. "The chalice, the real chalice?"

"It would seem so," Barinthus said.

I was inches away from Usna where he knelt. Perhaps I had been too much among the humans, but it struck me as odd that he could be this close to me nude and not be aroused. Something in me felt slighted by that. Childish? Maybe. But I had the almost irresistible urge to cup him in my hand and make him notice me. I must have made some small movement because Barinthus touched my shoulder, stopped my arm from finishing the motion.

"Do you feel compelled to touch him?"

I thought about that. "Maybe, sort of."

"Then do not do it here with the chalice so close. As Doyle has said, we are in a moving car. The water at the press conference would have been enough to flood the interior of this car."

I leaned back on my knees, resting on my heels. It wasn't entirely comfortable because of the spike high heels. The patent leather just didn't have as much give as regular leather.

"You're right," I said, and crawled away from Usna and the chalice. I didn't stop until my back hit Galen's damp legs and the puddle of water that was collecting under the three men on the seat. I stayed in the water. My hose, skirt, and panties were all black. It was uncomfortable, but it wouldn't ruin anything I was wearing. At that moment it was more important to be as far away from the chalice as I could get. Stretch limo, or not, there just wasn't room to run.

"What would have happened if the princess touched me?" Usna asked.

"Perhaps nothing," Barinthus said, "or perhaps much." He turned toward Doyle. "The chalice always had a mind and agenda of its own. Has that changed?"

Doyle shook his head. "On the contrary, it seems to have grown worse."

"Consort help us," Barinthus whispered.

The driver spoke over the intercom. "The bridge is blocked off, police lights everywhere."

Doyle hit the button. "What's happened?"

Silence, then the driver's voice again. "The river is over the bridge. I haven't seen the river that high since the big flood of 'ninety-four. Strange, we haven't had any rain."

In the silence that followed, we all looked at each other. "It looks as if we did not contain all the power from Barinthus's return to godhead," Doyle said.

I remembered the earthquake that had happened after I brought Kitto into his power. A thought occurred to me. "Was there an earthquake in California after we left today?"

Barinthus shook his head. "I checked the weather to see if your plane would be delayed; there was no earthquake." He looked suddenly thoughtful. "There was a freak windstorm, almost a tornado, which they do not have there, but it was not close to the airport."

We all exchanged glances, those of us who knew.

"What is it?" Barinthus asked.

"When I brought Kitto into his power, there was an earthquake later that night."

"What has that to do with the windstorm?"

"Nicca's wings came at the same moment that..." I shook my head. "Sage, just show him."

Sage turned to Barinthus and the now staring Usna. Sage was smiling, enjoying the hell out of all of it. He lowered his sunglasses enough for them to see the tricolor of his eyes.

Usna hissed. "Goddess, he's sidhe."

Barinthus touched Sage's face, put the newly colored eyes toward the light. "He is not sidhe, no part of him." He let go of Sage and turned to stare at me. "You did this?"

I nodded.

"How?"

"Sex."

Barinthus frowned. "You said Nicca's wings came at the same time."

I nodded. "Yes."

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "You had sex with both of them at the same time."

The fey did not have a problem with multiple partners, and it was rude of him to remark upon it. "What does that matter?" Doyle said, coming to my defense.

"The queen is convinced that Meredith must take more than one lover at a time, to conceive."

"Why?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I am not sure, but she has been very clear on her plans in this area." By wording it that way, he implied that she had been unclear about her plans in other areas.

"I have taken multiple lovers before this, Barinthus."

"Who?"

Rhys was wrapping the chalice in its silk robe, tucking it into the case once more, as he answered, "Me and Nicca."

Nicca closed the lid of the makeup case and tested the latch, though I think we all knew that wasn't the problem.

"The queen seems quite taken with the idea that Meredith must take more than one lover at the same time. When she finds out that this has already been done and no baby has come..." He shook his head, and looked at me. "The queen seems calmer of late, Meredith, but in some ways more determined. Once set upon a course of action, she is no longer distractible by putting an attractive man in her way, or an opportunity to torture. Her hobbies do not seem to interest her as they once did."

That sex and torture were my aunt's hobbies had always made her difficult to deal with, or so I'd thought. Barinthus was saying the opposite.

"Are you saying that you used sex and pain to distract her over the years?" I asked.

He nodded. "It was like offering a child candy. They take their sweets and forget what they were angry about. But in the last few weeks, no amount of painful candy derails her thoughts. She will take the diversion, use it up, and then come right back to where you wanted her not to go." He was frowning. "On the one hand, it is good to see her thinking with her head instead of her groin. On the other hand, we at court had become accustomed to dealing with her groin. The head is not so easily distracted."

"If she's thinking with her head and not lower, then why is she fixated on me with multiple lovers?"

"She seems determined that that is the only way you will become pregnant. That, and she is choosing plant and agricultural deities for you. She seems equally fixated on that."

"And you have no idea why?" Doyle asked.

He shook his head. "I know that something has happened. She tortured Conri, tortured him personally."

"Didn't he just get tortured for trying to kill me last time I was here?"

"Yes, but he had done nothing wrong. He seemed as shocked as the rest of us when she took him. She paraded his broken body in the great room, made everyone walk by him and see what had been done to him, but he was gagged the entire time, so he could not speak. He lies isolated in a cell, seen only by Fflur, the queen's healer."

"Conri was one of Cel's staunchest supporters among the guards," Doyle said.

Barinthus nodded. "Yes, and what a scrambling there was among Cel's people, who had persisted in making it clear that they considered Meredith unfit for the throne. They toadied, and did everything and anything they could dream up to win the queen's favor."

"Was Conri the only one she tortured?" I asked.

"As of now, but the rest of Cel's allies are frightened."

"You made mention of him not being able to speak," Doyle said. "Do you think he told the queen something, something she doesn't want others to know?"

Barinthus nodded. "I do."

"Do you have any idea what it is?"

"Only that it was after Conri's torture that the queen began to fixate on multiple lovers for Meredith and that most of them should be plant or agricultural deities." He shrugged. "You now know what I know. If you can make more sense of it than I, I will be happy to hear it."

Doyle shook his head. "I will think upon it."

"We all will," Rhys said.

The others nodded.

The driver's voice came back on the intercom. "They're starting to let cars through. The river just went back down. Weird."

Someone gave a nervous laugh. I said, "Well, it could have been worse."

They all looked at me. "We may have flooded every river and stream around St. Louis," Doyle said. "How much worse could it be?"

"St. Louis used to be part of a great inland sea, about a million years ago, give or take a millennium," I said, softly.

The silence in the car was suddenly thicker than before, heavy with a sort of shared horror. "Kitto got a small earth tremor. Nicca and Sage got a windstorm," Galen said. "I don't think bringing Barinthus back into his godhead would rate sinking most of a continent."

I knew exactly which of us knew that Barinthus was Manannan Mac Lir by who looked at him, and then away. Galen didn't know. But I did, and the thought of raising that much power without a formal circle of protection made my blood run cold. Though that could have been the puddle of water I was sitting in, too.

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