by Amy Sumida
“Good morning, Mommy,” Rowan said softly. “I'm sorry we woke you up but Shahzy wanted her daddy.”
“It's okay, honey.” I played with the curls that had broken free of her braid. “I know it wasn't your idea.”
“Shh now, dragonling,” Raza hushed Shahzy as he picked her up. “You know your mother is right.”
“But, Daddy,” Shahzy sniffed pathetically as her wings—which she still hadn't put away—drooped sadly over her shoulders.
Raza's golden eyes widened and I could see his resolve wavering. He gave me his Shahzy-look—the one that said he couldn't deny his daughter anything. It was hella annoying because it meant that I had to be the bad guy. You'd think a dragon could handle one little girl.
“You're pathetic, Your Majesty,” I rolled my eyes and headed down the hall with Rowan on my hip.
The kids were getting big now but they were at that age where they still liked to be carried—sometimes. Cat padded after us, her head lifted in disapproval of Raza's bad parenting.
“Seren, don't you think that banning her from flying is a little harsh for coming to her parents' bedroom too early?” Raza hurried after me with Shahzadi in his arms. “Put away your wings, Shahzy. Good girl.”
I looked over my shoulder and caught my daughter's tiny but triumphant smile, quickly hidden when she saw me look. She'd vanished her wings for her father, not me—using it as one more tool to get him on her side. Daddy's girl. Dragon-Djinn can shift their appearances and once Raza had taught her how to “put away” her wings, Shahzy had quickly learned how to alter other things about her appearance. I dreaded the day when she became a teenager and figured out that she could disguise herself to sneak out of the palace. I took comfort in the fact that Raza knew her scent and would be able to see past any form Shahzadi took, even if our guards couldn't.
I narrowed my eyes at my naughty girl, and she grimaced, knowing she'd been caught. I almost laughed. Shahzadi was too smart and too beautiful—a combination that would doubtless get her into too much trouble and give her father and me too many white hairs... and that's damn hard to do with immortals. But, sweet Gods, I loved that little girl and part of me was rooting for her. It would have been more than just part of me if I didn't have a sense of self-preservation.
“No, it's not,” I said crisply to Raza. “Shahzy knows the rules and she thought that because her sister was here she could break them. She can't. She's old enough to know better now.”
“Mo shíorghrá,” Raza cajoled, nearly purring.
“Don't use that sexy tone with me, Dragon,” I snapped. “Especially not now. When I'm in this... state. Shahzadi is grounded till tomorrow.”
“Seren, a child should be able to come to his or her parents whenever they wish,” he growled.
“If she needs us, yes, of course. But if she just wants to be carried down the stairs by her father, then no, she shouldn't be waking up her parents when she has nannies to take her down to breakfast and watch over her until we wake up. Where is your nanny anyway?” I stopped to narrow my eyes at Shahzadi. “She should have taken you two down to breakfast. Who's on duty today?”
Shahzy turned her face toward her father's chest and hid like an ostrich.
“Seren, you're scaring her,” Raza admonished.
Cat wuffed in a way that sounded a lot like laughter.
“I'm not scaring her; that child has more backbone than both of us combined. To her detriment, I might add.” I doubled back to grab Shahzy's chin and turn her to look at me. “What have you done, Shahzadi Tnyn?”
Shahzadi made a low growl in her throat.
I put Rowan down and got in Shahzy's face. “Don't you growl at me, young lady! What did you do?”
Raza's expression shifted into suspicion. “Shahzy?” His voice went low and deadly.
“I didn't do anything!” Shahzadi turned her face away again and clung to her father with her claws.
“Shahzadi!” Raza snapped and set her on the ground—removing her claws in a practiced maneuver—then loomed over her. “What did you do to your nanny?”
“She wouldn't stop, not even when I cried!” Shahzy huffed and put her fists on her hips.
“Wouldn't stop what?” I asked in a quiet, dangerous tone.
Rowan moved behind my legs and laid her cheek against my thigh. I absently reached down to take her hand while Cat wrapped around her back reassuringly.
“Combing my hair,” Shahzy growled, then she pouted. “It hurt.”
“She wouldn't stop getting the tangles out of your hair—tangles that wouldn't be there if you had let me braid your hair last night—and so you got angry?”
Shahzadi grimaced.
“What did you do?” Raza snarled as he curled a finger, lifting our daughter to the level of his face with Air magic.
Rowan whimpered. Cat made a low noise in her throat; she had a special affinity with Rowan, more so than with any of my other children, and she didn't put up with anyone upsetting that little girl. I was the only exception but I rarely had to get firm with Rowan.
I started stroking Rowan's hair to comfort her. “Shh, it's okay. Uncle Raza isn't angry with you.”
“I only made one little illusion,” Shahzadi whined.
Ah, yes, that was another Djinn ability and one that Shahzy was just starting to learn.
Cat snorted at Shahzy.
“Did you involve Cat in this illusion?” I asked in amazement. Then I remembered that one of Shahzy's nannies was a Baobhan-Sith and the White Women were afraid of horses. “Oh, sweet Danu, tell me you didn't make it look as if Cat had shifted.”
Shahzadi looked at her feet—feet that dangled in midair.
“Shahzadi Tnyn, you are grounded from flight for a whole week!” Raza shouted loud enough to shake the stone beneath my feet.
Shahzy started to cry, covering her face with her claw-tipped hands.
Just a quick note here; most of my children don't have surnames yet. For Fairies, surnames are usually a description or title of their mór—their main magic. All Fairies have beags—minor elemental magic—that start developing at birth but their main power, the magic unique to them, matures slower and so they don't get their names until that power is revealed. These are often family names as well since mórs tend to be passed down from parent to child, but it's common for parents and their children to have different last names. In the case of double mórs, when a child receives two main magics (a rare occurrence), they can choose their last name. Shahzadi, however, was born full Dragon-Djinn and Dragon-Djinn—like other non-Sidhe Fey races—work a bit differently.
The Dragon-Djinn race as a whole has standard mórs, including the ability to cast illusions, shapeshift into any form, and breathe fire. So, their last names tend to be the title of their family mór that has been passed down. Raza's surname, pronounced Ten-yee-nah, means “incinerate” and since his daughter had revealed her Dragon-Djinn abilities already—including her dragon fire—he was able to pass his name down to her.
Raza had given his son, Rayetayah, his last name as well. It had been a bit of a scandal since Raye is a Raven-Mocker—another race with a shared mór—and didn't possess any Dragon-Djinn traits. But Raza wanted his son to have the protection of his name, especially since Raye had been born on Earth (his mother, Ayita, is a Seelie Fairy). So, Raza went against tradition and did as he pleased. It ended up being helpful since Raza later named Raye as his heir, but it wasn't the same thing as Raza passing his name to a child who was of his race and had a right to bear it. Shahzadi is more of Raza's race than he is, actually—the first pureblood Dragon-Djinn to be born in a very long time. That she was also a little female replica of him was a bonus. All of that is a matter of both pride and deep gratitude for Raza.
However, Raza was not so proud of his daughter at that particular moment.
“You keep crying, Shahzy, and I will give you something truly worth crying about,” Raza delivered the line that every parent has said, or has thought about saying, a
t least once.
Even Fairies aren't exempt, it seemed.
I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling as our daughter canned the waterworks, crossed her arms, and glared at her father petulantly. Even hovering before him, she could manage to look rebellious.
“And if you continue to look at me like that, you will go without breakfast as well,” Raza went on.
“Fine.” Shahzy pouted, released her arms, and transferred her stare to the floor.
“That's not what you say to me,” Raza softened his voice a little.
“I'm sorry, Daddy,” Shahzadi immediately amended.
“And?” Raza prompted.
“I'm sorry, Mommy.” She glanced at me.
“Thank you,” I said as I opened my arms.
Shahzadi launched into my hug like an astronaut in space, helped there with a wave of her father's hand. She buried her face in my hair and sighed in that way children do when they've weathered the storm of their parents' anger. I stroked her back until the tension left her body.
“Now, we're going downstairs to find Fiona so you can apologize to her too,” I said.
Shahzy stiffened but then muttered, “Okay, Mommy.”
“I love you, little dragon girl,” I whispered and kissed her cheek. “But if you scare another nanny, I will tan your hide till your black butt turns red.”
Rowan, who had her arms around Cat's neck nearby, giggled. Oh, that sound—what it did to my heart. Shahzy looked down at her sister with an annoyance that withered under Rowan's open, loving expression. Shahzy started to giggle too. I crouched down, pulled Rowan into our hug, kissed both of their foreheads, and silently thanked Danu for the gift of my children. Yes, I know I'd just been complaining about them but grumpy, unsatisfied Seren is completely different from happy, mommy Seren. That's another thing kids do: they make you crazy.
In case I haven't been clear enough, Danu, the Goddess of the Fey, gave me a wedding gift when I married Killian Blair, Rowan's father. Danu had worked her magic over my men and me so that I would conceive a child from each of them. So, even though my children had all been conceived on the same night and were born on the same day, they were very different—in both appearances and personalities.
It was difficult for me to juggle them along with their fathers, visiting my children and husbands on a weekly rotation. I wished we could all live together. But at least this way, I didn't miss too much with either the kids or my men and I also had enough time between visits to keep our marriages spicy. Time apart can be a good thing for parenting and intimate relationships. Still, seeing the girls together made me wish I could have the boys there too. It made me wish that they didn't have to sacrifice living as true siblings for the good of the Realms.
I did bring Shahzadi, Falcas, and Caelum to Twilight sometimes—where Rowan lives—so they could all be together and also visit their grandfather. Rowan was lucky; her siblings didn't have any other living grandparents, but she has a grandmother on Killian's side and gets to live with her fairy king grandfather. Although, Elara Blair, Kill's mom, treats all of my children as if they were her grandbabies. I love that about her.
We took the girls downstairs to the dining hall—Raza carrying Shahzy while I carried Rowan—where the rest of the castle was already bustling about, eating or feeding people, or just hanging out with friends. Graceful Bean-Sidhes glided about in long gowns while Hags cackled at them in decidedly less-formal wear. Black Annis, known to be a cannibal, even bared her pointed teeth. But no one was scared in the Unseelie Court anymore, not now that Raza ruled. He tolerated no violence in his castle—not unless he either ordered it or instigated it.
A group of Leanan-Sidhe, known as the Dark Muses, gathered near one of the dining tables. The hauntingly beautiful women bowed to us as one as we passed. Nearby, an Abbey Lubber—a brutish, hairy man with a tail—licked his lips as he eyed the ladies longingly. A Red Cap—a massive Goblin in a bleeding hat (yes, literally bleeding)—nudged the Lubber's arm and nodded to us respectfully. The Abbey Lubber grinned guiltily and bowed. That's our court—a gathering of dangerous fairies who are also steadfast in their loyalty to their king and kingdom. Some were beautiful, many were hideous (don't get me started on the Nuckelavees), but all of them had learned to get along. They did it for Raza but they also did it for themselves. Because no one wanted the Dark Kingdom or the Unseelie Court to return to what it was like under my Uncle Uisdean's rule.
My daughters, Raza, and I walked up the aisle between the two lengths of rectangular tables, set end-to-end to either side of the room. Gold silk covered the walls behind the dining tables and over that hung paintings nearly as long as the tables. Under our feet, laid images of dragons, carved into the cinnabar floor. Golden rugs covered the carvings but only beneath the tables, and Rowan leaned over my arm to admire the dragons before craning her neck to look at the crystal-shard chandeliers above us. She barely even gave the deadly fairies around her a glance.
Some of the kitchen staff spotted us and scurried back to the kitchens through the convenient, arched passages beneath the raised dais at the end of the room. We headed to that dais and the ebony, dragon-footed dining set perched atop it. I climbed the stairs to the right of the dais—more of a terrace or balcony really—then sat Rowan down on the chair beside mine while Raza sat Shahzadi on his left. Behind us, high on the wall, hung the Unseelie Kingdom's crest on a shield—a simple black background with a full silver moon upon it.
Rayetayah usually sat beside Raza, but he'd moved his Prince throne down a spot since Rowan was visiting and Raza would need to have Shahzy beside him at meals instead of in her usual seat beside me. Not that it mattered since it was too early for Raye; he was still asleep or perhaps he was getting what I had been denied. He did have a new girlfriend—or consort, as they're called in Fairy.
I hoped he was; someone should be getting some nooky in this damn castle and it didn't look as if it would be the Abbey Lubbers or me.
Even though Raye is Prince of Unseelie, he's also a Twilight Fairy, like I am. It's a strange situation that was tolerated by the Unseelie Fey only because Raza and Raye were both so well respected and loved. The issue isn't as racist as it sounds. For thousands of years, the Kingdoms of Seelie and Unseelie were at war. The Twilight Kingdom had been formed by our goddess, Danu, to serve as a buffer between the warring Kingdoms and, she hoped, as proof that all of her children could get along.
Twilight Fairies are a blend of Seelie and Unseelie so they are living proof that the races could intermingle. There are a few Twilight races that evolved over the years but many of the Twilight Fey are unique fairies with no race other than Twilight. My father was the first Twilight Fairy—a child of the Queen of Seelie and the King of Unseelie (both now deceased). His parents were Sidhe so he is as well, but he's a Sidhe with a unique mór. His court became a sanctuary not just for Twilight children but also for the outcasts of either court. It was how Tiernan, who's Seelie, came to be in my father's service.
But back to the wars. The Seelie and Unseelie fought on despite Twilight's peaceful precedent. So, Danu touched her children, inspiring many to have cross-kingdom affairs and bear more Twilight Fairies. The Call of Danu became sacred and even married couples weren't immune. If a husband was called by Danu to join with another woman, his wife wouldn't hold it against him. In fact, she'd probably insist that he do the Goddess's bidding. I'm sure it helped that the Call was usually temporary and the fairies involved lived in different Kingdoms—which means opposite sides of the planet—but I don't know if I could have been so supportive if I'd been that wife.
Still, I was grateful for it; the Call of Danu brought all of my husbands to me. Although, to be honest, I fought against it at first. I had a hard time letting go of my human concept of a relationship and embracing the Fey way. In other words, polyamory wasn't my thing. I'm good with it now but if I'm totally honest, it's only because I know that as a queen, my husbands aren't allowed to take consorts. It's a succession thing;
the child a woman bears is absolutely hers while a man's offspring can always be called into question. And that's how wars begin.
But, again, I digress. Danu called my parents together—a fairy king and a human extinguisher—to conceive me. Extinguishers are psychic warriors descended from the five Irish families who first fought the Fey—or at least those who were first able to fight the Fey—when the Fey started to attack humans. Oh, here we go on another tangent. The Fey-Human Wars didn't last as long as the War between the Kingdoms of Fairy. All it took was a few years before the humans called for a truce. They conceded that the Fey had a good reason for getting pissed off at them but insisted that humans also had a right to defend themselves against all the naughty things that Fairies like to do. The truce was formed and it included laws that would protect the rights of both races. Then military forces were established to enforce those laws. The humans formed the Extinguishers and the Fey formed the Wild Hunt (the Hunters). These groups were then governed by Councils, one for each race, and High Councils to govern all of the Councils. Yes, diplomacy is complicated.
