He kept his distance and his silence.

She tilted her head to stare at him. The avian gesture contrasted with the mortal glamour she held on to as she waited. "Irial needs replacing," she said.

"And you're telling me this why?"

"Because you can give me change. He's not right for us. Not now." Her glamour shivered, flickering in and out. "Help me. Bring me my wars again."

"I don't want war. I want …" He glanced away, not knowing what he truly wanted. He'd followed her into a too-small space, pursuing the temptation of her violence. And leaving Leslie to figure out the impossible on her own if I give in to the temptation of self-destruction. He'd run away from Irial, from Keenan. He was still running. "I'm not going to help you."

"Smart answer, pretty boy." Gabriel appeared beside him. The Hound held an arm out, tattoos racing furiously over his skin, and motioned for Niall to step back. "You need to move along now."

Bananach snapped her mouth open and closed. Her glamour faded, revealing her sharp beak. "Your meddling is getting tiresome. If the Gancanagh wants to stay with me …"

Gabriel stepped in front of Niall just as Bananach launched herself forward. She shrieked, a sound that might have been laughter or anger or some combination of the two. Her hands were splayed open, her fingertips black talons.

"Court business, Niall. Go on now," Gabriel said without glancing back.

Gabriel lifted Bananach and hurled her into the metal fence. Her feathers snagged on the razor wire, but she yanked herself away. Shredded feathers drifted to the ground behind her and were lost on the shadowed pavement.

Niall wanted to leave, to stay, to tell Gabriel to get out of the way so Bananach could end the confusion and depression that had been weighing on him, to tell Gabriel to rip into her. Instead he stood still, watching, no more resolved than he'd been when Bananach had beckoned him to follow her.

It wasn't truly beautiful to watch Gabriel in action, but there was a brutal harmony in his movements. Like the Summer Girls' dancing, Gabriel's fighting had a rhythm to it, a song of its own. But the Hound's moves were well matched by Bananach's fury. The raven-woman was gleeful as she darted away and then returned to dive at Gabriel with abandon. From somewhere she drew a bone blade that glowed with preternatural light. Her black-taloned nails stood in relief against white bone and red blood as she slashed Gabriel from his left brow to his right cheek.

The fresh blood drew cries of pleasure from a group of Ly Ergs who filed into the enclosed lot from the street. Their red hands twitched in unison as they began circling Gabriel. They took some of their sustenance from freshly drawn blood, a habit that Niall had found disquieting when he'd learned of it. There weren't enough of them to overcome Gabriel, but with Bananach there too … It's not really my business. It's Dark Court business. Which is not my court.

Niall started to step out of their path, but leaving Gabriel to a half dozen Ly Ergs and a blood-mad Bananach wasn't something that set well with him. Gabriel's arrival had prevented Bananach from seriously wounding or killing him. He owed Gabriel for that. The Hound might not expect it, but Niall expected it of himself. That was one thing he hadn't lost, his honor.

He threw himself into the fracas—not for a court or a king, but because it was the right thing to do. Standing by while someone—even Gabriel—was outnumbered wasn't an option.

Niall didn't worry about consequences as he struck the Ly Ergs. He didn't worry about where his king was. He didn't worry about anything. He avoided some but not all of the Ly Ergs' blows. Although the red-palmed faeries were more concerned with drawing blood than with inflicting permanent injury, they had murdered their share of faeries and mortals over the years.

Bananach darted past Gabriel and caught Niall in the upper abs with the tips of her boots. Searing pain rocked him back as the boots' poisonous iron cut into his flesh. He stumbled, and she pressed her advantage with a swipe of her blood-soaked talons.

Then Gabriel grabbed her and steadfastly moved their fight away from Niall, back toward the fence, leaving Niall free to deal with the Ly Ergs. It was disturbingly good fun, salve for the gloom Niall had been trying to shake. It didn't change anything but was refreshing.

By the time Niall had most of the Ly Ergs retreating, Gabriel had bloodied Bananach severely enough that she was leaning against the one Ly Erg who'd held back from the melee. But even so, she fought until Gabriel punched her hard enough that she swayed backward and tumbled to the ground.

Gabriel told the single unwounded Ly Erg, "Take her out of here before Chela notices I've had another tussle with her." He snarled at the rest of the Ly Ergs, who'd eased closer. "I keep getting into fights with Bananach, Che's going to get all territorial. Don't none of us want that, do we?"

The Ly Erg didn't speak but merely stepped up beside the raven-woman. Bananach rested her head against his leg.

"You're inconveniencing me, puppy. If necessary, I'll see the ice queen or the kingling. Someone's" — she snapped her jaw at Niall in what was either an invitation or a warning— "going to help me get this court set right."

"Irial said how we'd handle things." Gabriel stretched out his arms to show the raven-woman the spiraling orders on his skin.

"Iri needs to go. He's in the way and not doing what needs done. War's what we want. Need some proper violence. It's too long." Bananach closed her eyes. "And you following me everywhere's getting old."

"So stay put and I'll stop following you." Gabriel lowered himself to the pavement with a graceless gesture and began inspecting his wounds. He grimaced, a decidedly unpleasant sight with the blood flowing down his face, as he poked at a gash on his forehead.

The Ly Erg reached an already red hand down to caress Bananach's bloody face and arms, nourishing himself on battle blood as his kind had once done on red-soaked fields. His skin shimmered as Bananach's fresh blood seeped into his palm. Another Ly Erg walked up and laid his hand on Gabriel's blood-covered face. Despite the fact that they'd all been trying diligently to skewer, maim, and otherwise incapacitate one another mere moments ago, they were almost cordial for a few bizarre moments. The Ly Ergs took the pain and blood into their skin, unmindful of past conflict in the moment of postfight pleasure and sustenance.

Then Gabriel swung at the Ly Erg who stood patting his still-bleeding wounds and said, "Enough. Get her out of here. Maybe you could try being obedient tomorrow?"

"Maybe you should try staying out of my way tomorrow." Bananach stood and flicked her long hairlike feathers over her shoulder with a look of disdain. She might be bruised and unsteady on her feet, but she wasn't cowed by anyone. Then, with a solemnity that was as eerie as her violence, she shifted her attention to Niall. "Think about what you want, Gancanagh—what's right. Forgiving the Dark King? Forgiving the Summer King? Or letting me bring you justice, pain, and war, and everything you desire. We'd both be happy."

Once she was out of sight, Gabriel asked, "You might have walked away from Irial, Gancanagh, but do you really want this lot influencing our court? Do you want to help her?"

"I'm not getting involved. It's not my court." Niall sat beside the Hound. He wasn't sure, but it felt like one of his ribs had been cracked.

Gabriel snorted. "It's yours as much as mine. You're just too much of an ass to admit it."

"I'm not like you. I'm not out looking for fights or—"

"You don't back down from them, though. 'Sides, Irial's not all about fighting either. That's why he keeps me around." The Hound grinned and gestured at the shattered windows and cracked bricks. "There's more to the Dark Court than violence. You bring out another sort of darkness. We both belong in the shadows."