by J L Collins
“Must have had my information wrong, I guess.” Or his girlfriend didn’t realize it was just a break. Why does this sound so familiar to me? “So, you two are doing all right?”
Tristan leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “We’d be doing a heck of a lot better if we could actually see each other. Her family isn’t too keen on letting her roam around Spell Haven anymore, especially now that they know about us. And it really doesn’t help when Uncle G keeps adding safeguards to keep people out of here. She nearly burnt her hand trying to open the iron gates one night. After that, he and Aunt Ginny both said that it was safer for her to wait things out until we know for sure how to quell the profiteers’ thirst for my blood. His words, not mine.”
He took a swig from the bottle I’d seen Aunt Ginny buy for him before, wincing.
I couldn’t help but take pity on my little brother. It had to be hard going from total freedom to do whatever he wanted to being stuck inside the manor. “I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you want. I admit that if I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same way.”
He chuckled. “If you were me, you would’ve made smarter choices to begin with, and you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Okay, well yeah,” I laughed softly. “While that’s true and all, I still feel bad. I wish there was something I could do to help expedite the process of getting you out of here.” As big as Brady Manor was, I knew how it felt to be trapped inside it longing to get out to the one you loved. I pushed aside the thoughts just as quickly as they popped up.
“You thinking about busting me out, Gwennie?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. Even now it was impossible to see anything else but the same little Tristan whose first steps and first words were still just as fresh in my memory as my own daughter’s.
“Keep dreaming. I will, however, talk to Uncle G and see if I can’t maybe get you more frequent visits with Brennrie. Maybe if I appeal to him, you might even get a heavily-armored date out of the deal.”
He grinned but it faded away with a sigh. “One can only hope. Though the thought of the damn Shadow Hands skulking about any date with someone as beautiful as my Brennrie doesn’t sound all that ideal. I don’t see how that would give us much privacy if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not know what you mean, so to steer the subject away from that . . . How is she doing, anyway?”
He went on to explain how the Fae Court had been keeping their subjects from wandering off out of Arcadia as much lately. According to Tristan, Brennrie was now what the Fae considered ‘dual-natured’, which meant that her unyielding allegiance to the Fae Court was on shaky grounds. Any kind of romantic relationship with a Witch was cause for their suspicion. Which made me wonder when the Fae had become so prejudiced against us.
“I thought they didn’t care who their subjects got it on with? Now suddenly she’s practically an enemy of the state?” I said.
Tristan had summoned a silver tray of scones and Earl Grey for us with the medallion hanging from his neck. A gift from Brennrie, apparently to replace a now broken wand. “There’s more to it than that, but ultimately that’s what it comes down to. They see her as dating below her station, whatever the heck that means.”
As much as I loved growing up and hearing stories about the Fae and their culture and history as the oldest race of creatures in Danann, the more I heard about how they treated outsiders, the less inclined I was to want to deal with them.
Beside us, the empty fireplace roared to life, startling both me and my brother. Swirls of embers lifted up to float toward the chimney. A glowing outline of a face seemed to rise from the embers until it took a more distinctive shape—Uncle Gardner’s.
“Gwendolyn. I’ve looked more into the short sword you uncovered earlier. I’m still not convinced it’s the real deal, but I’d like you to accompany me to Arcadia first thing tomorrow morning. Your aunt and I would like you to know that you’re more than welcome to stay in your old room as it’s prepared for you. And please be sure to let your brother know that we also fully expect him to be sober by dinner this evening. Which you are privy to, as well. Ginevra is out visiting with friends and I shall be at the Athenaeum until dark. We shall both see you for dinner.”
Tristan and I exchanged looks.
I shrugged. “I guess I could always ask Brennrie how she’s doing myself. But don’t get any cutesy ideas to send along love notes. I’m not Cupid.”
10
Queens and Pawns
The last time I was standing at the entrance of the wildflower-strewn valley that dipped into Arcadia I was trying to be as stealthy as possible. On official MARC business and with both Uncle Gardner and my Aunt Bedelia (who refused to be told she couldn’t come) inside the glaringly obvious MARC carriage transport, stealth was no longer a concern of mine.
I was more worried about the dark and heavy clouds rolling across the Arcadian countryside straight ahead. They began at the towering castle—our ultimate destination—spreading out in thick tendrils and tufts of stormy gray. Even with whatever the Fae were brewing, the breeze carried a soft and sweet scent with it, reminding me of honeysuckle.
“Well. Let it never be said that the Fae aren’t dramatic hosts,” Aunt Bedelia said, staring off into the distance as thunder cracked across the earth.
Passing the invisible border that marked the end of Spell Haven and the beginning of Arcadia, the three of us sat in silence. Aunt Bee was busy watching the colorful flowers blur by us along the road while Uncle Gardner was swiping through the magical holoscope that controlled the carriage transport, its screen pulling up an image of the very same short sword I’d found yesterday. Next to it on the screen, was a similarly-shaped weapon in the hands of some Fairy Knight, the knight’s face out of view.
“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the latter.
“The Fairy Knights do carry shorts words—this is a more recent image of one from my own memory. After the betrayal of . . . someone,” he said, the lines around his eyes tightening, “I called a Head of Creatures Council meeting. With the Queen Mabily in attendance she ensured her royal guard was there too, including the Fairy Knight with that particular sword. It is the current style of weaponry the Fae use, I believe.”
I frowned. “A Head of Creatures Council meeting?”
“Each race of creature in all of Danann appoints a leader to make—”
“I know what a Head of Creatures Council meeting is, sir. What I mean is why did you call it? Those are usually only done in emergencies. Unless I missed something?”
Uncle Gardner sighed, avoiding my gaze. “To apologize. I-I wanted to apologize to everyone for letting someone like Gentry Whitemourn get deep enough within the MARC to sabotage in from the inside out. I made the mistake of trusting Whitemourn. Hell, I made him my own Lead Investigator. And he completely fooled me into thinking he deserved that placement. That honor.”
I sucked in a breath, surprised at Uncle Gardner’s candor. While he was pretty much always blunt and truthful, it was a rarity to see something affect him this way. “All due respect sir, but he fooled everyone. I’m part of that everyone too, you know. He was in it for the long game, and you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself about trusting him.”
He swiped away the holoscope, setting his shoulders back. “The short sword you found outside the Athenaeum was forged in an ancient style. We don’t know why it was there, but the one who put it there knew their Fairy weapons.”
I nodded, not exactly surprised at the sudden change in topic.
With the sky above us darkening, an unpleasant memory came rushing to the forefront of my mind. “This transport is magic-safe, right?”
“Hm?”
“The vehicle is safe from Arcadian magic, right? I didn’t exactly have the best experience last time I was here.” I twisted to reach my wand, just in case.
“While we may not experience their magic full-on inside the transport, it’s only de
laying the inevitable. Once we’re at the outpost we’ll be forced to deal with it. Just keep that in mind,” he said, glancing down at the wand in my hand. “And be sure you’re in your right mind if you need to use that.”
We followed the country road cutting through the beautiful but dangerous hillside, passing a familiar pond with pink sand, until we reached the main trading outpost in Arcadia. It stood like a sore thumb with its arching entryway and hundreds of creatures—mainly the Fae—roaming in and out of it.
As the transport slowed to a stop, my stomach clenched.
“No time like the present!” Aunt Bee crooned as she swung open her door, breaking the barrier spells on the transport that kept out all unwanted magical interference.
It was like coming up for air after a long minute under water. Fairy magic left your brain craving more of it, feeling like you never truly understood how beautiful breathing was until you inhaled your first breath in Arcadia.
I immediately shook my head, trying to clear it of the bubbling, chaotic thoughts that were starting to cloud my real ones. “Ugh. It’s like I just sucked up a mouthful of cotton candy that went straight to my head.”
“What’s that, dear?” Aunt Bedelia asked, adjusting her glasses on her long nose.
Oh, yeah. I guess she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Cotton candy . . . spun sugar. It’s sort of what you imagine the clouds here to feel like in your mouth, but even sweeter.”
She tapped her finger to her chin, her many bangles clinking together. “Hm. That does sound rather lovely, actually. You’ll have to give me the recipe sometime, Gwennie. I could always use a new product to bring customers around the Apothecarium.”
“Come along,” Uncle Gardner mumbled, gesturing toward the bustling crowd ahead of us.
He’d explained along the way that we would meet our royal escorts inside the outpost. Our escort’s flaming red hair done up in an elegant style and steely blue eyes tipped me off right away as we pushed through the dozens of people that stood between us and the open-air market. It was Brennrie, Tristan’s girlfriend.
She was wearing a white linen tunic decked out in real wildflowers and vines wrapping around her waist.
Aunt Bee was the first to speak up as we approached her, she and I wearing matching smiles. “Such a sweet girl for meeting us here. And here we thought we’d have to deal with the Royal Court Guard.”
Brennrie gave a small curtsy to the three of us, her eyes solemn. “On behalf of the Queen, I thank you for meeting with us. My brother Nicolex and I will take you up to the throne room where she’s waiting for you.”
Behind her, stood a familiar-looking Fairy Knight brandishing the same short sword Uncle G had shown us in the transport. The knight had a smug look on his face that reeked of superiority, not helping the already sharp, angular features of his face. He sort of reminded me of a hawk in that way.
Nicolex adjusted his sword belt, narrowing his eyes at Uncle Gardner. “The Queen will not keep her patient temper for very long. I suggest we move now.”
Even through the airy thoughts trying to take over in my head, I could sense the tension between the two of them. Uncle Gardner’s jaw tightened, but he gestured for Nicolex and Brennrie to lead the way. Aunt Bee and I exchanged an uneasy look. I didn’t like Nicolex’s tone one bit.
It was much easier getting through the sea of people when everyone scurried out of the way of one of the Royal Court Guardsmen. I couldn’t really blame them—he looked like he was totally willing to move them out of way on his own. Everyone’s eyes seemed to follow us as we trailed closely behind the two Fairies, Uncle Gardner in front of me and Aunt Bee. She reached out to squeeze my hand, probably more for my benefit than for hers.
The path that led down the valley cut through the thick forest right outside of the outpost. After we wound through the trees and broke out into a glade filled with gorgeous wildflowers, Nicolex and Brennrie appeared to be arguing up ahead of us, Brennrie gesturing up to the castle set up along the mountainside in the distance.
Aunt Bee’s lips pursed when Uncle Gardner looked back over his shoulder at us, all three of us unable to hear them. Usually this was where Aunt Bee’s telepathic ability came in, but it only worked on fellow Witches, not other magical races.
It was a struggle not to stop and enjoy the scenery, even with the impending meeting with the queen. My mind was racing, being pulled in a million different distracting ways.
That’s what Arcadia can do to non-Fairy creatures. Especially us Witches.
Colors blurred past me, and time seemed to stand still as we made the long walk out of the clearing of trees. There was that sweetish taste on my tongue again—on one hand, it was completely annoying to the sensible part of my brain that wished it would just go away. On the other hand, the candy-like air had this weird way of lifting one’s spirits. Like I just knew we were going to have a successful conversation with the queen—even if going into it, the odds were stacked against us.
The Fae had a knack for using your own words against you, twisting them so that they confused even the one speaking them. For a race that never lies, they sure were skilled deceivers.
I held tight to my wand in my pocket, hoping that just having it in my hand would help keep the jitters down and my thoughts straight. Next to me, Aunt Bedelia looked as though she were concentrating very hard on something. Maybe she’s having difficulty focusing, too.
“Won’t be much longer once we get through the weeds,” Uncle Gardner said to us, turning to look over his shoulder.
Of course he’d consider the gorgeous, blooming flowers at our feet to be nothing but weeds. But then again, you just never really knew in the Fairy lands.
The path continued curving deeper into the valley until we were pretty much at the rocky cliffside of the mountain topped with the intimidating castle. I shaded my eyes with my hand, surprised by just how steep this side of the mountain was. It looked like it should be perched over the sea with the craggy rocks at the bottom of it, looming dangerously in front of us.
I winced. “Please don’t tell me we’re meant to climb those. Because I’m definitely not wearing the right shoes for that.”
Nicolex didn’t seem very impressed with my attempt to diffuse the situation, but Brennrie threw me a quick grin.
“The Queen’s castle is not meant for outsiders. That’s why they must be invited in the first place,” Nicolex said without looking at me. I just knew he was wearing a smug look on his face.
Placing his hand on a particularly smooth looking boulder, he pressed firmly until a grating sound—rock sliding against rock—signaled him to step forward, literally through the boulder itself.
Brennrie gestured for us. “You may follow me this way.”
One by one, we did exactly that. There was no resistance whatsoever, as if we’d continued up a side path that wound up the mountain instead of walking into the boulders. I raised my eyebrows, surprised at not only this, but the quickness in which Arcadia’s ethereal grab fell away from me.
I guess the Fae don’t think it’s necessary to disorient their invited guests inside the castle.
Inside, we were led through a short, ornately decorated hall until we reached a massive, open area brimming with what I could only imagine were the Fairies on the lower end of the hierarchy. The ceiling was in a rough steeple so high up that the very top corner of it was lost in the darkness. The floor was filled with glittering, vibrantly colored gems within larger stone tiles. It was a hub of sorts, with little shops and tents popped up in no particular order. There were even a few Fairies dancing around a firepit to our right, with a satyr playing a set of pipes to encourage them.
It certainly had a different feel to it than the Spell Haven Market. More chaotic and less business-like.
Nicolex pushed past some of the more oblivious Fairies who didn’t realize at first who he was, their spooked expressions making me wonder just what kind of person was escorting us to the queen. I thought about the
short sword I found, frowning. Whether it was because we Witches get a bad rep with the Fae, or his own personal dislike for us, Nicolex was definitely not pleased with our company.
One of the many rooms off the hub that honestly didn’t seem much different from the rest of them with the exception of not two but four guards standing in front of it, appeared to be the direction Nicolex was taking us. He paused in front of the guards, their stony faces only gazing forward. It may have been hard to take a fairy seriously with some of the gauzy, less practical things they wore or the way they spoke, but that wasn’t the case for these guys. With all of them standing at attention and their hands resting lightly on the hilts of their swords, they were not to be trifled with. So, this must be the way to the royal court.
“These are the Queen’s personal guests. She is expecting us,” Nicolex stated, sounding just as formal as the other four looked. “Stand down.”
The guards did as they were told, the two in the middle moving out and aside until all of us had been let into the new hallway. This one was dimly-lit, covered with all sorts of vines and more cramped than the first had been. How odd for the queen’s so-called ‘personal guests’ to be brought in through this way. If it was meant to be irritating then it was doing its job well.
It didn’t last long though, and soon enough we were in another open area, this time much deeper into the castle than I would’ve thought. I nearly forgot my aunt and uncle; I was so busy taking in our surroundings. For my first time inside of the actual castle, I had to say I was impressed with the lack of so many steps needed to get to wherever you needed to go. Must be a fairy magic thing.
Massive doors with shining gold swung open before us. A lilting voice called out, echoing in the cavernous room as we stepped inside of it, “Inquisitor Brady, please do come inside.”
