Kitto hesitated, then reached a tentative hand for it. The guards had been teaching him weapons skills. He had some, but goblin tactics relied on strength and body mass. It wasn't the right approach for someone Kitto's size. He was learning to use his body the way it was meant to be used, but he was still hesitant in practice, as if he didn't trust himself yet.

He wrapped his small hands around the hilt, and it was big enough for both of them to hold it, one above the other. He stared down at the naked blade as if it might turn in his hands and bite him.

Rhys knelt out of sight and came back up with a sheathed sword from under the bed. We kept weapon caches throughout the house, just in case. But I guess there wasn't anything short enough to fit Kitto's hands under the bed.

Rhys walked back around the bed with a hand on Kitto's shoulder, half guiding and half pushing. Kitto began to hang back as they rounded the bed. The short sword drooped in his hands.

Siun began to yell, "Kurag, my king, you can't let them do this."

"Calling me king will not help you now, Siun."

"Help me, Kurag, help me. Would you ssstand idly by while ssidhe ssslay your goblin?" She held out the one white hand that was on his side of the mirror as far as it would stretch, beseeching.

Kurag sighed. "Is there anything I can offer you, white knight? A wergild price to replace her life."

"I won't die, Kurag," Siun said. "They can cut me up, but I won't die!"

"She's right, pale prince, you cannot truly slay her."

Kitto had stopped, refusing to go closer to Siun than the last corner of the bed. Short of Rhys picking him up bodily and carrying him the last few feet, Kitto was not getting closer.

Rhys left him where he was and moved to the mirror, just out of reach of Siun's struggling limbs. He stared down at the trapped goblin, and there was a distant look on his face, a remembering. "Leave the killing to me, Kurag," he said.

"Name something I am willing to offer, pale prince, and I will pay wergild for her. Surely there is something you would trade for?" Kurag had stepped just behind Siun. He stroked her black-furred back, a soothing gesture.

"Her life is all I want, Kurag," Rhys said.

A look of both pleasure and worry crossed Kurag's face, as if he wasn't sure whether it would be too much. His voice was careful as he began, "The life of one of the male goblins who enjoyed your company. Would that be worth Siun's life?" He kept his face and voice as neutral as he could, but there was an eagerness to his orange-yellow eyes that said he enjoyed Rhys's discomfort. I doubt that Kurag had watched Rhys used by men for the sex show, but for the power, for the sight of the mighty thrown low, oh, yes, Kurag had enjoyed that.

Rhys's face clouded with the beginnings of anger, but he smoothed it away. He turned a thoughtful face to Kurag. "Is there some male in particular you'd offer in Siun's place?"

Now it was Kurag's turn to look thoughtful. "You remember any names?" His smile was close to his usual leer.

"Most wanted me to know who it was that would use me. I remembered Siun's name."

Kurag nodded, and his face sobered again, almost as if he'd said something he would take back if he could. There had to be a male among those who'd been with Rhys whom Kurag hated, or saw as a threat. That was the only thing that made sense. For the Goblin King to admit that anyone was a threat meant it was serious, maybe even dangerous. Goblins did not assassinate each other. It was considered cowardice. A king who resorted to letting others do his killing could be executed. But if Rhys did it now, as a wergild price, then Kurag would be blameless. Still, the fact that Kurag had suggested the name —that would be taken badly. So he stopped short of names. He would not name.

"Then name someone, white knight, name someone."

Rhys shook his head. "If you had asked me to name the one goblin I wanted most to kill, it would be Siun." He gestured at the trapped goblin as he said the last. "No one else's death will satisfy."

"What if the Goblin King could offer something other than a death?" Doyle asked.

Kurag looked at Doyle, but Rhys had eyes only for Siun. "What would you have, Darkness?"

Doyle allowed himself a small smile. "What would you offer?"

Rhys shook his head, and I knew what he was going to say before he said it. "No, Doyle, no, I want this death. I won't trade it away." He looked back at the tall, dark man, met Doyle's unhappy gaze. "I am sorry, but not for politics. I won't trade this death away for just politics."

"And if it could gain us some advantage for Meredith?"

He frowned, then finally shook his head. "No." He looked at me, where I stood almost forgotten by the bed. "I'm sorry, Merry, but I will have this death." He turned back to Doyle. "Trust me, Doyle, Siun dead will help us more than Siun alive."

Doyle made a push-away gesture. "As you will."

Rhys held his hand out to Kitto, who still stood frozen by the bed. "Come on, Kitto, let's do this."

Kitto was shaking his head over and over. "Can't," he finally said.

"Yes, you can," Rhys said. He waggled his hand at him. "Come."

Doyle held his hand out to me. "Come, Meredith, let's put you out of the line of—fire." He hesitated over the last word as if he would have said something else. I went to him, stepping carefully between Kitto and Rhys, and the naked blade in Kitto's hand.

Rhys unsheathed the sword in his hand and flung the empty sheath toward Doyle, who caught it without looking, with his free hand. The other hand stayed in mine, and there was the faintest dew on his palm. Doyle was nervous. Why?

I was missing something. I had no idea what, but if it made Doyle nervous, it was probably a bad thing to miss. I was princess here, which meant I was supposed to be the ruler, but as so often seemed to happen, I was out of my depth. If I hadn't had the touch of Doyle's hand in mine, I would never have suspected he was nervous. That meant the goblins didn't know it at all. We needed to keep it that way.

Rhys raised the long silver blade up over his head for a great downward strike. Siun pleaded, "My king, my king, help me!"

"I offered you his sex and his flesh, Siun. I didn't tell you to maim him." Kurag stroked her furry back one last time, then stepped back. "If you can kill sidhe, do it, but don't fuck them up and leave them alive, because they never forget, and they never forgive." He looked at Rhys. "She's yours." He didn't sound happy about it, but he wasn't brokenhearted, either. I don't think he cared for Siun one way or the other. He'd tried to save her because she was one of his people, nothing more.

Siun tried to plead with Rhys, but to raise her one arm up to him she had to stretch her body upward. Her pale breasts flashed, and a look came over Rhys's face, a look that I never, ever wanted to see directed at me. "Do you remember what you made me do with those?" he asked, in a voice that seemed to burn through the room.

"No," she said, and she held out that arm, opened that mouth, and begged.

"I do," Rhys said, and the blade flashed down. The sword bit into the back of her body with a sound like cracking plastic, and that sound alone let me know that whatever skeletal system Siun had, it wasn't sidhe. But the blood was still red. Rhys chopped at her like you'd fight a tree that couldn't fight back. One of her black legs with its dagger-like spurs slashed through his robe to the skin beyond. The second slash was down his side, and it made him hesitate, clutching at the wound.

Kitto was suddenly there, his clean silver blade catching a leg before it could slice at Rhys. He severed the leg with one blow, and it went spinning onto the carpet at our feet. Doyle moved me farther away from them, and I didn't argue.