The Autumn Prince

64. The Prince of Autumn

"Abominations aren't usually this cute."

"I'm serious," I scolded. "It's worse than you think, Katherine. My dad was wrong to believe he could use that power against Mab. Whatever's out there isn't some passive force, it's alive and hungry and it doesn't give a damn about any of us."

"From what I understand, when that happens to a changeling they aren't given a choice, it just takes over and erases the person they used to be. But you came back to me." She placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and smiled.

Before I could reply, one of Juhan's attendants returned pushing Rachel in a wheelchair, and I almost broke down again, this time with relief. The transformation had been miraculous. Her hair hadn't completely grown back, but the burns were erased as if they'd never been. Even the socket that had been savaged by fire was completely restored—with one startling exception.

"It's gonna take a while to get used to this," Rachel said, checking herself in a hand mirror. Instead of it's original dark brown, the iris of her right eye was now startlingly blue.

Katherine gave her an appraising look. "It looks cool but it won't be easy to explain. Maybe we can get you some contacts. That new hairline might be a little too punk for you too."

"I dunno," Rachel brushed her fingertips across the soft stubble on the side of her scalp. "I might keep it like this for a while. It's kind of badass."

After nearly four hours in Juhan's care, after the sun had finally risen, I was ushered back into the waiting room, mostly whole, though none of us would be fully recovered for several days. Becca, Miss Gold, Finn, Meg, and Amy had joined Katherine and Rachel, and each of them greeted me warmly in their own way. I even received an unsolicited hug from Miss Gold, though she clearly needed practice showing any kind of affection. After all the friendly words had been spoken, I was left alone with the three brave women who shared my life. It had been several hours since they received my necessary kiss, but for once I didn't need that as an excuse.

We stayed at the clinic another two days under the observations and ministrations of both Juhan and Miss Gold. Our clothing had been burned to avoid any accidental contact with my father's blood—or mine—but it was only a precaution. Of my many injuries, only the bullet in my shoulder had broken the skin, and the blood had been contained by my jacket. As for my father, the toxin was part of a gean canagh's magic and it quickly lost its potency outside the influence of his living will. We were provided with new clothes and regular meals, and spent most of the time sitting in silence, strolling through the halls, or talking about trivial things.

I was surprised to learn that we had been inside Stewart Hall for nearly an hour, and in that time medics had taken Jackie to the nearest hospital while campus police questioned the girls in her dorm. They hadn't heard the gunshots, and nobody was aware of the inferno in Stewart Hall until it blew out the top floor windows. Amy hacked the hospital in Redgrove where Jackie had been taken and reported that after a touch-and-go surgery she was expected to recover. Police were still looking for Kennedy Wiseman. For some reason, nobody had tried to contact us with questions, though Lana certainly told them we'd been there. I chalked that up to interference from a certain red-headed Fae.

Stewart Hall was finally, formally demolished after the fire. As expected, the official position was arson, partly due to witnesses reporting a group of people sprinting in that direction not long before. Footage from the school's security cameras had somehow been erased.

I had plenty of time alone to consider what I'd taken from my father as he died. Miss Gold assured me that there had been no life remaining in those scraps of will, that the figures I'd seen in my vision were simply echoes given shape and substance by the continuum, like the colorless forms within the Veil. It was hard to tell what I'd actually gained from it. I was measurably stronger, but not like Caratacos had been, I couldn't come close to matching his speed, and I wasn't eager to find out if I was bulletproof. Perhaps I wasn't enough like him to appropriate all of his power. I was more than okay with that.