by Mari LaRoche
"If you travel with me, you need never worry about starting a fire in a rainstorm while camping and collecting minerals again."
The mundanity of it startled a laugh from her. “If that happens. You’re beautiful, Amir.”
He smiled at her. “I’m glad you find this appearance pleasing. I think you are as well.”
Viv glanced away. “Do you know specifically who’s pursuing me?”
He sighed. “Her name is Brigit. The woman we mentioned at lunch.”
Once again, ice trickled down Vivian’s spine.
“She’s a war chief of the daoine sidhe, one among many. Her mother, Morgan, created and executed a plan that ended with killing all of the Seers of the NightQueen before the last Reckoning. The DayKing rewarded the daoine sidhe in riches and power as he walked this world alone.
“Morgan became their chief of chiefs, and He promised her the title of High Queen if she managed to keep the key from Tiamat for another Reckoning, which would be this one. Brigit wants to take that position from her by killing you herself.”
Hmph. Her mother managed it; I don’t think a cheap knockoff will.
Vivian pressed her fists to her temples. “So, she wants to question and then kill me, right?”
“Yes.” Amir appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “Seers are rare, and they need to mature before they get their visions. Sometimes it takes a very long time. The last seer who died came from a very long-lived people. I think you are her reborn and it simply took a long time for your power to manifest.”
“Seers are clawed?” She started to mention the voice in her head but coughed instead.
Sorry. It’s better if he doesn’t know about me just yet; it would hurt him a lot.
Why? Vivian spoke directly to the voice.
I’m not truly alive, and he feels he failed me because I died.
“No, that’s more an aspect of your original kin. I hope you manifest more; it would make you harder to hurt or kill.” Amir patted her hand again.
Vivian shivered. While the calm still steadied her, the direct threat to her life sent chills through her. She rose, clasping her elbows, and paced into the living room. Impulse bade her scoop Nuby up from where he napped. The dog nuzzled her sleepily.
Amir’s level voice pursued her as she walked back and forth across the room. “Brigit is a powerful sidhe, gifted with the ability to force people to act—or not act—as she wishes. The ability to place geasa on others is very potent. It grants her a more exact control of goblins than the norm. Goblins are the greatest threat to you now; they’re rarely found in small groups."
The longer she saw Amir in his natural form, the odder she felt, uncomfortable and unfamiliar sensations zipping in her stomach and her chest.
Pity he would never say yes…
She ignored the voice, focusing on Amir. “I see. What are you? Why do you oppose her?”
A flash of lightning lit the darkness. The rain intensified, splattering the window, blocking clear view.
“I’m Amir Jahangir.” Sarcasm had not deserted him. “My people are called peri.”
Peri were creatures of Middle Eastern folklore; feminine, a sort of spirit that were called fallen angels. Her years of folklore study came to her rescue. Playful spirits, generally not malicious, associated with fire.
“But you’re male.” She winced as the words popped out.
He laughed. “Not all of the details on folklore are correct, Viv. That set of stories comes from a few sisters who liked meddling and showed up as themselves often enough for the tales to take root.”
“Were you there?”
Seconds ticked by. His voice almost lost under the sound of the wind and rain, he said, “Yes.”
Two thousand years ago, minimum, based on research trying to pinpoint the stories’ origins. Too much strangeness, too many shocks. Why was she old at forty-four when he was still young after living millennia?
“Could you look like yourself again? I need a few minutes.” She returned to the living room, walking distractedly to her chair. As soon as she sat, Nuby jumped into her lap and licked her face.
Warm tracks of tears rolled down her cheeks as the little dog whimpered at her, wagging his tail and licking away the salt. Resentment, awe, and anger had overcome the calm and made for an unnerving mix.
She wanted something, anything, to be normal again. She didn’t understand why, since she daydreamed about the unusual and extraordinary every time she read a folktale or myth.
Amir entered the room, but he remained quiet.
Sudden rapping sounded like gunfire. The door vibrated. Vivian jumped to her feet. Fear fountained up, running through her body like lava. Her fingertips stabbed with sudden pain. She glanced down and choked. The claws were back, filmed in blood. A few drops fell to the floor. Her hands shook as she stared at them.
Don’t worry. We can protect ourselves. The voice sounded smug.
Viv started at the touch of warm hands on her shoulders. “Please, Viv. Sit. Everything’s going to be fine.” Gentle tugs guided her to the chair while the staccato of knocks had turned into pounding. A phantom caress ghosted over her hair. Her eyes followed him as he strode to the door, bare-chested and barefoot.
5
The storm framed Donal in the doorway; still lovely, a little disheveled, gazing over Amir’s shoulder at her.
Mmm. I hoped we’d see him again. The purr in the voice made Viv uneasy.
His pale eyes met hers, then he turned to Amir. "Good. They didn't find her."
Nia, still in her heavy jacket, slid around him into the room. “Not really helpful, Donal. Stating the obvious never is.”
Amir stood; arms folded. “You being here adds to the danger, however.”
“He’s a peri too?” Viv’s voice trembled from the dissolving tension.
Nia laughed; her grumpy expression dispelled in a moment of honest mirth.
“No.” Donal rapped the word out, his brow furrowed. His movements were more decisive, more poised. The tone of his voice carried authority.
The suitcase thumped when he set it down by the door.
Nuby ran over to Nia, dancing on his hind legs with excited yips. She crouched, fondling the dog’s ears and gently pushing him to all fours. The small dog leaned on her leg.
Viv missed Bast. Perhaps they knew Fate so she could get her cat back?
Fate will return her when this is over. It’s an incentive to keep you moving. The voice was alert and calm.
Amir looked down at the dog’s madly wagging tail.
He shook his head, but his expression lightened. "What a little traitor."
“No, he has good taste.” Nia’s voice, while still curt, was lower and richer than it had been. A voice you could listen to for hours.
"Will you tell me how you know each other? Since I’m thinking that nephew, girlfriend, and student were not the whole truth?" Vivian looked at each in turn.
Nia nodded as she walked into the kitchen. As she walked by, Viv smelled the unpleasant odor from lunch again, strong and sharp. No one else reacted to it. Viv rubbed her nose.
The bracelet is unicorn hair; that’s what unicorns smell like. Nasty.
Nia pulled Amir’s rosemary plant from its place in the window and began snapping twigs off and rubbing them between her hands. Viv wrinkled her nose at the sharp green smell. It competed unpleasantly with the home’s cedar scent, but it did help cover whatever odor accompanied the other woman.
Donal flicked a wary glance at Viv’s hands. "Amir and I are both concerned for your welfare. We both hope to keep you from being either kidnapped or killed. I’m sorry all this has come at once; the plan was to—"
"The fact we have similar goals does not mean we are close." Amir cut him off.
“That’s an understatement.” A world of weariness infused Nia’s voice.
Ah, they plan to dance around the truth; they are probably afraid of you bolting. You are a nervous one, you know.
I’m
aware. Viv was careful to keep her expression neutral.
“What plan? Why are you doing this?” Two conversations made it difficult to focus. “Since I’m going to assume our initial meeting wasn’t a coincidence, Amir. And, by extension, your presence in my seminar, Donal.”
“No. But I am your friend, Viv.” Amir checked a step forward.
She shook her head. “Friends don’t lie about important things!”
Donal laughed. “Of course, they do. Lies help keep us from killing each other and all the other kins, including humans. But truth to you as a gift: Amir and I were both friends of the last Seer. Brigit killed her. I promised her memory I would help the next seer who manifested. Amir’s reasons are his own.”
How romantic. Ušum’s—the voice’s—tone was beyond dry. Friend is such a multipurpose word; be aware his and my friendship had benefits. And like Amir, he feels guilty about my death.
Does he have reason?
No.
Nia made a circle of the room, dropping rosemary twigs as she went. Once she’d completed a circuit of the room, she leaned against the wall, hair falling forward to obscure her expression. She tucked her hands into her pockets.
Rosemary had a strong scent; perhaps she was trying to cover their presence? Stories also said it could keep evil fairies away. Viv decided to wait and see what happened.
“Which kins grow claws?” Viv spoke in a flat tone.
Ooh…let’s see if they can work up the courage to tell you you’re a dragon!
What? Viv clamped her mouth shut and listened.
“There are kins called the changing kind, people who have an alternate shape, like a wolf or tiger. It could be you’re a hybrid; the changing kind do intermarry with humans. Though your parents were both human. My opinion is that you’re most likely a human who uses magic, and your power is manifesting like that because you’re afraid. In either case, all signs point to you being a Seer.”
Donal’s voice was soothing, and while she resented it, Viv found her breathing steadied under its gentle caress. In this moment, he seemed familiar. The way he put things annoyed her; there was an infinity of possibilities that she could be.
You are a dragon, even if you can’t quite yet change shape completely.
“What’s your kin? And why are you trying to manipulate my emotions?” Frustration edged Viv’s voice. Ušum might be informative, but she overlapped with the exterior conversation, making it hard to understand.
I’ll give you time to listen.
Donal bowed. “I am one of the daoine sidhe.”
The daoine sidhe were the Irish version of what some people called elves. Some folklorists held that they were the memories of older deities worshipped in Ireland. None of the stories she could bring to mind mentioned manipulating emotions. Amir had not answered her question about what the daoine sidhe were in reality, beyond their mastery of the goblins.
“And my other question?”
Amir leaned against the wall, an amused smile forming. It was a subtle expression, but one Vivian had seen in better moments. She wanted to shake him for not simply showing her what he was earlier; proof made the difference for believing in things like magic.
Ušum’s amusement welled within her.
Spreading his hands, Donal regarded Viv. “It’s a passive ability. My people happen to be gifted with it, and there are humans who have it, too. Think of it as charisma.”
“The daoine sidhe are a species of used car salesmen?” The tart comment sprang out in response to his careful soothing… Viv could sense herself being manipulated.
Amir snorted.
Nia laughed long and loud. “Oh, that’s good. You put it well.”
The smile Donal directed at Viv was more sharp than friendly. “That would be a way of phrasing it.”
“And I should be wary of you?”
“Yes.” Nia’s voice cut over Donal. “In fact, the greatest physical threat to you right now are daoine sidhe. You need to be careful; you’re the only known seer for the Queen. There used to be many.”
“What do I need to know?”
Nia held up a finger. “First: daoine sidhe don’t work or travel alone. You’ll see us almost always in threes; rarely as a pair if they’re recruiting a third. Triads are the basis of their—our—society.”
Another finger went up. “Two: If you see one other than Donal or me, do what you can to escape. They will try to capture you, and we’re”—she appeared by Viv’s chair, a knife out and held to the side—“very fast and good with weapons.”
Oh, we could handle a few, if needed.
“Did overconfidence get my predecessor killed?” Viv held up her hand, displaying the claws. She wanted to curl around her hands and hide them, but it was better to face facts.
Nia’s stern expression softened a fraction. “Yes.”
She grabbed Viv’s wrist and slammed the clawed hand onto the coffee table before Viv had time to make a sound. The knife bounced off the claws with a metallic clang. All Viv felt was a jolt.
“Nia!” Amir snapped.
In another swift motion, the knife was sheathed as Nia rolled her eyes. “She’s not made of sugar. Don’t act like she’s so fragile she’ll break in a light breeze. If she’s what Amir says she is, she’s tough. If she’s a mage, like you keep saying, she’ll learn how to be tough. Either way, babying her isn’t helping her.”
Viv met Nia’s gaze, recalling her earlier point and bearing down on the tremors in her stomach. “If you always travel in threes, then where’s your third?”
Nia’s thin smile answered her. “We work in threes; it doesn’t mean the triad we’re in has to be all or even a majority of our kin. Most people forget that and then have unpleasant surprises.”
“So, it’s Amir?” Viv turned her gaze to him.
“Yes.”
Donal settled in a crouch near Viv. They formed a triangle now, the three of them, evenly spaced around Viv and Nuby.
“Is this actually what you look like?” Viv waved a hand in Donal’s direction.
Donal’s startled laugh sounded real to Viv. “No. Like Amir, I use an illusion to avoid notice. They’re expensive, but good quality ones can mask a true appearance for a long time. We’re, all of us, conspicuous in our natural forms.”
“I want to see you. And Nia. In your true forms.”
“I don’t know that this is a good time for it.”
“I think it is; trust goes both ways.”
Something about her tone woke a sardonic tilt to his smile. “Please, keep in mind that we have no time for privacy if you’re overcome with passion, Ms. Rivera.”
The young man’s appearance faded. Unlike Amir, whose countenance had remained familiar, the smooth lines of Donal’s face shifted to evoke a maturity his illusion lacked. He gained height and muscle, wearing light silvery mail and a sword slung across his back, holstered pistols on each hip. Viv leaned back.
His eyes were the same color but carried a freight of years, and the new face was familiar. He was the glowing elf who’d watched near her house.
Do you want my memories of him naked?
Viv resisted the urge to run her hands through her hair in distraction. “Why did you chase me?”
He was right. His actual appearance added to the discomfort she’d felt earlier, seeing Amir. Possibly, it was a reaction that humans had to the other kins? It would explain why she’d never felt anything like it before. It was much like what she’d felt upon first seeing him.
“I didn’t. The leshys enjoyed messing with you, and I was having words with them on why they should tone it down. Terrorizing you served no purpose.” His voice had changed as well, more resonant, a faint accent gilding the words.
“Leshys are Russian forest spirits. Why would they be in Texas, and why would they enjoy frightening me?”
“They moved, much like there are people of Russian heritage living in the US now. For the second, that group has an unkind sense of humor.” His answer came
quickly.
Viv sensed there was more to it but decided to drop the subject. She turned her gaze to Nia.
Nia shook her head. “My illusion’s cheaper, and I’ll use up a lot of its remaining duration dismissing and re-invoking it. The way I appear now isn’t far off; by human standards, my ears are a little pointier is all.”
“Is there a way to escape keys and Reckonings?” Viv rubbed her temples.
“No. Brigit is ambitious. If you’re the single remaining seer for the NightQueen, getting the location then killing you will get her that position. If you’re what Amir thinks you are, a reincarnation of Ušumgallu, she’ll want you dead even more. Brigit hated her like poison.” Nia dropped to a crouch, dark eyes intent on Viv’s.
“But I’m not that woman! Reincarnation doesn’t work that way!”
Really?
Shut up. Viv didn’t like snapping at herself, but Ušum was exasperating.
“Since the dead come back only rarely, by the direct intervention of King or Queen, I don’t think anyone knows for sure what happens.” Amir’s comment was dry. “All the signs point to you being Ušumgallu.”
Fate’s voice rang in Viv’s ears… This time, I'm going to keep you alive even if it kills you…
“And experience says a human mage is far more likely; the Queen would have reincarnated her favorite ages ago if she could.” Donal sounded as if this were another verse in a long argument.
The direction of the wind changed, spraying rain on the windows, carrying a hissing, slurring shout. Even as the words were unfamiliar, a memory of pain trembled on the verges of Viv’s awareness.
Donal’s hand dropped to a pistol. Nia produced a knife, scooped Nuby up with her free hand, and strode, fluid as a cat, to the French doors.
In a blink, Amir stood between Viv and the window. Heat rolled off him. “Incoming. Get in here, Viv.”
He flipped the lid of the chest he used as a coffee table open. “There will be too many of them to fight without involving the neighbors. You have to hide; they won’t have seen you through my wards.”
