She had to think about it, but finally she said, "No, not kill. You have the King of the sluagh as your man, and the Darkness; they are powerful allies, Merry. I would nae part you from such strength."
"The fact that they are the fathers of your great-grandchildren holds no weight for you?" I asked, studying her face.
"It means everything that you are with child." She smiled, and her face was illuminated with joy. It was the smile I'd grown up seeing, and treasured my whole life. She gave that smile to me, and said, "And twins, it is too good to be true, a'most."
Her face sobered.
"What's wrong, Gran?" I asked.
"You carry brownie blood in ya, child, and now one is the child of the sluagh, and Darkness can claim a mixed bag of genes too." She looked past them all to the nightflyers still clinging inside the room.
I knew what she meant. There were some potentially interesting genetics at work inside my body right this moment. I couldn't be anything but happy about it, but the concern in her face wasn't the comfort I needed.
She shook herself, as if suddenly cold. "I am no longer privy to the Golden Court, but I know someone offered Cair something she wanted greatly for her to do this. She risked me life, putting me again' these two." Again she used her thumb to point at both of them.
I thought about it, and realized Gran was absolutely right. The chances of her injuring them was somewhat high, because they wouldn't have wanted to injure my grandmother. It might have made them hesitate, but eventually if she'd risked me, or truly injured them, they would have had no choice but to fight back.
I thought about that, my Gran up against the King of the sluagh and Doyle. It made me cold just thinking about it. It must have shown on my face, because Doyle came to the other side of the bed from where Gran stood. Rhys was still keeping her a little back from the bed, or rather he stood in her way, and she made no move to come closer to the bed. I think she understood that the guards, all the guards, would be leery of her for a time. I couldn't blame them, because I agreed. Some spells leave lingering touches, even after being removed. Until we studied Cair's spell we couldn't be certain of everything it had been designed to do.
"What would she be willing to risk her own grandmother for?" Galen asked, sounding shocked.
"I think I know," Doyle said. "I was inside the Golden Court as a dog. Even the black hounds are still treated as mere dogs. People are incautious in front of dogs."
"You heard something about this spell?" Rhys asked.
"No, but about Merry's family." Doyle came to hold my hand, and I was glad for the touch. "There are still those in the court who use Cair's physical appearance as a reason not to accept Merry as their queen." He bowed to Gran. "I do not feel this way, but the Golden Court sees your other granddaughter as a monster and Merry not much better because of how human she appears. They seem to view her height and curves almost as badly as they do Cair's face."
"They are a vain lot, the Seelie," Gran said. "I lived among them for many years, married to one of their princes, but they could ne'r forgive me for looking so brownie. I think if I looked more human, like me dad, they could have accepted me more, but brownie blood beating out the human, nay, that they could not see past."
"Your twin daughters are both lovely, and except for hair and eye color look very sidhe. They can pass," Doyle said.
"But neither of the grandchildren can," Gran said.
"True," Doyle said.
"Does anyone else find it interesting that all the fathers except me are mixed blood?" Rhys asked. He was still holding the glowing thread carefully away from his body. What were we going to do with it?
"Like calls to like," Gran said.
"Some of the Seelie nobles said that if I could help a pureblood sidhe couple get with child more of both courts would follow me," I said. "Some of them are saying that only the mixed breeds can breed with my help, because my blood isn't pure enough."
Doyle rubbed his thumb along my knuckles. It was a nervous gesture, and it meant that he wondered the same thing. Was it what Gran said, like calls to like? Was I simply not sidhe enough to help the pure-bloods?
"Doyle," Galen said, "are you bleeding?" He moved up to the other man, and touched his back. His fingers came away with dots of crimson on them.
Chapter Four
Doyle didn't flinch or otherwise react. "It is a very small wound."
"But how did it happen?" Galen asked.
"I believe the glass is coated with some sort of man-made material," Doyle said.
"So because it's man-made and not natural," I said, "it was able to cut you?"
"Normal glass would have still cut me."
"But it would have healed by now," I said, "without the man-made coating?"
"It is a small cut, so yes."
"But you were covering Merry's body when you were cut," Gran said, and her voice was flat, almost without accent. She could do that when she wished, though it didn't happen often.