“Dracena, if you think you can persuade this dragon to align beside us, and respect that alliance, try. He’ll change our game and return us to the skies with an actual weapon. Suck that, Flitana.”
“I tagged him with a charm. He’s so green he never solidified his skin, and I bet he doesn’t know not to drink anything offered by a magical, either. Give me a place to brew, and fill a list of potion making items, and I’ll deliver a dragon, Loboli. For my help, I want a permanent piece of the forest to build my coven. We’ll operate in venterim with you for all time, but the rest of the magical world best watch their backs.”
“Done.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Solid.” Nereus tapped the frozen wall as Poseidon paced. “She failed.”
“A setback, crusty.” Poseidon sat and shuffled the cards. “You don’t know her depths. Cleopatra will prevail.”
“Her depths,” Nereus snorted. “You plumb so many I doubt you remember either.”
A fish crashed into the ice and drifted, stunned as a nearby tuna snapped it up for dinner.
“That’s as good an analogy for your Keeper as any,” Nereus chortled. “The Earth is one gigantic pattern, an eternal repeat. This tip is inevitable.”
Another fish crashed, and the tuna amassed around the bubble, gorging. Poseidon gazed at the carnage and dealt the cards.
Ares landed on the balcony with a substantial thud. I crooked a finger, and he entered, brass armor clinking. He lowered his mojo as Aegeus quaked, and I smiled in appreciation.
He paced, assessing Aegeus, and nodded in approval.
“I’ve heard of this child, and I’m curious to observe if she changes the world.”
“Lord Ares, forgive me for staying seated. I can’t walk.”
Aegeus patted my thigh and stared at Ares. “Mommy has a sickness in her knee. I can absorb the water, but she is afraid it might hurt me.”
“She’s not wrong. In time you’ll manage the waters you touch, as befits your birthright.”
Ares paced, skirt clanking, as he revealed his purpose.
“Keeper, I hold a piece of information I believe is pertinent for the upcoming battle.” He glared at my red, oozing knee. “Although given the circumstances, your weakened state is your disadvantage.”
“I’m working on wellness. I have to overcome it to fight.”
A snort. “We shall see. The dragon Campe abandoned the evolved demi and released the call to the Thundra. A cry of war that escalates your piece of the problem.”
Heavy brows drew together as his lips pulled back in a snarl. “This call pulls every dragon from their encasement, for the freedom of two releases the entirety. The Thundra flies, spurred by the demi’s attack on an innocent human population. Their rogue demi pushes the imbalance closer to the tip. You have, perhaps, days.”
Crud.
One corner of Ares’ lip lifted in an acknowledging half smile. “I’d choose a stronger word, but each navigates their own way to succeed in battle.” His eyes bored into mine, and he cocked his massive head.
“An interesting vibration. You changed, and the alliance is solid. It’s possible, Keeper, the Earth’s destiny isn’t to burn. Fairness returns to the field.”
Ares bent until his broad featured face was nose to nose with Aegeus, who held his gaze.
Atta girl.
“Do not touch the bubbles, Child. The sickness is not your destiny.”
Wide eyed, Aegeus nodded as Ares faded.
With a pop, Chelsea landed next to the sectional and plopped, the personification of frazzled.
“A historic village in Mexico, Valladolid, caught fire last night and still burns. The 300-year-old Cathedral is a shell, and the center city around the courtyard, ashed.” Fingertips rummaging, she pulled a tiny glowing cube from her waist sack. “If Campe could analyze the fire, I’d bet a stack of gold he’d say the destruction was Drago’s doing. This fire burns until no fuel remains and is otherwise inextinguishable.”
“An apt analogy to my condition. Chels, you look like shit. What’s happening?”
Twin lines appeared between her eyebrows. I let her sit in it, because pushing her to explain never freaking works and I needed information.
After a minute passed, she blew out a sigh. “I chose, and my coven agreed, to unseat Dracena. Her behavior in your home was the ultimate act, cementing years of defiance. The coven stands at eleven until a candidate presents. This weakens us, but is our way. The twelfth comes when the stars align.”
Chelsea rubbed her forehead.
“Headache?”
“A monster, but it’s because of being eleven. It won’t fade until we are twelve once more.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry we created the accelerant.”
Chelsea shrugged. “Dracena was problematic for years, and through our laws, resolved. But, Patra, I have other news.”
Behind Aegeus’ head, I pointed at her and raised an eyebrow.
“Aegeus, could you get me a glass of water? I’m parched from my trip to Mexico.”
“Sure!”
To her retreating back, Chelsea leaned in and whispered, “Dracena allied with Loboli.”
I blinked. My last take on Loboli and company was that his struggle to form alliances reduced his influence, a weak cog in the worlds’ spinning repositioning. In hindsight, that rosy view was a hair optimistic. Mr. Mayor was still in the game.
“She appeared in Mexico just as I did; of course my protections, cast on each coven member at the moment of her banishment, prevented her from sensing me. A supposition, Patra, but I suspect the demi is rogue, and I’d stake a fat pile she’s trying to tap into his anger to use it for her purposes. Loboli too. Dracena wields considerable talent, a significant grudge, and showed us for decades her comfort with using anyone necessary to further her agenda.”
Chelsea stared at me for a long beat, then shook her head. “Patra, I regret asking the coven to unseat her, only because I believe I played into the fire energy of the tip, making your task more complicated.”
I shrugged, feeling the great peace thrumming throughout my body. “What’s done is done. We fight to the end.”
Aegeus returned with the water, and I shared Ares’ visit.
“Called the Thundra? Dear gods, the death knell rings.” Her voice dropped to a whisper.
I’ve seen Chelsea in many moods, but defeat wasn’t one of them. I dug for something positive, deciding to share my conversation and occupation by the Vapors.
Surprised, she gripped my hands. “Wow, I sense the peace. What a gesture! But in reality, you aren’t going anywhere with that leg. I petitioned Clep; he declined, but I’m determined, Patra, and got an inkling that a part of him wants to intercede. I’ll keep trying.”
“Thanks.”
Disappointment colored my voice. But gods are their own gig. If I hadn’t figured that out by now, I was wasting everybody’s time. Well, depending on who you asked, I’d already done that. Twice. Sore losers 2.0.
“Chels, where’s Parker?”
She popped and returned in an instant. “In his shower. He’s a hottie.”
“If you don’t mind, I need him.”
A naked Parker landed on my balcony and barfed. Chelsea magicked up a towel for him and flipped a puke removal spell as he stumbled in, woozy, and plopped on the sectional. We’re getting crowded.
I passed my anti-vertigo potion; Parker slugged a dose and grinned, soapy headed.
“An unusual start to the day, Boss. Is there a problem?”
“Several. The most pressing is this,” I gestured to my knee.
“Shit, that looks nasty.”
“Parks, walking, until I get an intervention, is impossible, and that means you have to handle the entire line.”
“Consider it done.”
“Don’t be flip, dammit, and please be super careful. You think you don’t sleep now? Covering both sides of the line is a complicated, exhausting job, and increases the chance
you’ll make a mistake.”
He eyed me and nodded. “Not planning to die today, Patra. Conscious and careful all the damn way.”
Chelsea cast at my kitchen and boxes of muffins and croissants from Publix, orange juice, glasses and mugs, and the coffee pot zoomed across the kitchen and set up on the table in front of the sectional. Parker munched, filling the living room with the scent of blueberries while I sipped coffee, sharing everything I knew and our educated guesses.
“Let’s cut to the credits. Is the world gonna blow?”
“Yeah. Blast-factor 9000. Shit’s getting strange, Parks. Don’t count on any information you can’t verify and read the book for my entries. I’ll search the journal for yours. Trust the record, and stay alive.”
A buzzing flutter pulled my eyes to our balcony. Fae, several. It appeared I needed more chairs.
I waved them in and surveyed the Queen, whom I’d met only once. “Welcome to my home. How may we help you?”
“Our Queen, Flitana, wishes to consult with you, Keeper. In private,” Glissande answered.
Parker shot me a side eye and rose, re-tucking his towel. “Let’s move to the balcony, Your Majesty.”
Flitana and Glissande exchanged a glance, and the Queen nodded.
“Point taken, Keeper Parker. We will converse here, with all parties. First, the fae, as Earth beings, stand against a manipulated disintegration of the water, fire, and earthen balance.”
Chelsea conjured comfortable chairs for the Queen and her number two; the remaining entourage flitted around the balcony doors.
“Second, the ousted witch brews in the forest, and the wolves provided a swath of land for her use. Beyond that, the owls report a conversation regarding a rogue dragon and an alliance.”
“Dammit, I knew it,” Chelsea muttered.
“What can you share?” Glints in the Queen’s eyes assured me she didn’t come here to knit.
“Campe sounded a call to enable the Thundra. They plan to eliminate the demi,” I answered.
“And your source?” A surprised Flitana leaned forward.
“Ares.”
“And your injury?”
“Significant. I need magical healing from Asclepius to save my leg. So far, he’s declined to aid.”
Glissande and Flitana traded a quick glance. Chelsea slapped her thighs and jumped to her feet.
“Please, excuse me. I must attend to something, and I’ll return in a moment.” With a snap, she vanished.
The Queen’s violet eyes moved and held mine.
“Within a god’s prerogative, yet the Triune fails as your health declines. Do you trust me, Keeper Patra?”
Not a minor question, by any stretch. Fae were scary as hell, killed with remarkable proficiency, and had an otherworldly glee while doing so. I sat on my sofa with my daughter and her critters tucked under my arm, best friend returning to my side, and the second Keeper rocking a towel. If the fae attacked, if this was a setup by Loboli, we’re dead or damned close. By removing both Keepers, upending failure becomes the alternative path of the worlds.
Peace moved in my blood. A sign? Or in the Vapors long-range plan, had my usefulness expired?
Chapter Twenty-Two
A faint pop and Chelsea returned, looking satisfied, and sat next to me. I held out my arms, the Vapor symbols etching onto my skin and connecting. She read them as I held them aloft to show Flitana.
* * *
Trust.
Brotherhood,
Focus.
Peace.
* * *
“We trust you.”
* * *
The queen lifted her gaze from the message and rose, wings a fluttering blur.
* * *
“Hold still,” Glissande warned. “Get her a bite stick.”
* * *
“Whoa,” Parker breathed, gawking as the queen’s bared teeth grew to needle points, mouth hinged to open a full 180 degrees, as Chelsea pulled a wooden rod from the air and handed it to me.
* * *
“Aegeus, please take Justice to your room. He may misunderstand, and I don’t want him to attack. Daisy, too.”
* * *
“OK. Mommy, are you scared?”
* * *
“No,” I lied. “The fairies are trying to help.”
* * *
I hoped.
* * *
I bit the stick as the petite Queen shrank to the size of a mosquito. With a sizzling zip, she dived and slammed into my knee.
* * *
Parker and Chelsea held me in place as I shrieked, skin and tendons expanding and shrinking, shaking as if an enthusiastic, invisible terrier had my kneecap in a death grip.
* * *
“Holy shit!” Parker pointed as the largest blister first flexed and shrank, the red angry welt fading to pink. Bubbles kept draining, and healthier skin emerged. With a tearing sound, the tiny Queen blasted from the side of my knee, enlarging to her full size as her exit point oozed blood along my calf.
* * *
“Spittoon,” Glissande murmured to Chelsea, who conjured a deep, elegant bowl embossed with fairies and passed it to her.
* * *
“Pi-too,” the queen spat, eyeing the foul smelling contents, then lifting my sweaty face with a finger under my chin.
* * *
“You’re a tough one, Keeper. Where did you find this poison?”
* * *
“Chernobyl. When Apollo took me to interview the dragon Campe.”
* * *
“Despite how logical it sounds, the sickness isn’t radiation,” Flitana said, eyeing me with a thoughtful gaze. “Someone sabotaged you.”
* * *
What? By who? Apollo? Campe? Every time I gain ground on the tipping situation, the shit goes sideways.
* * *
Incredible pain seared my brain. Chelsea took one look and waggled fingers at the booze cupboard. A bourbon, neat, zoomed into my hand as I bent the screaming knee. At least I could feel the damn thing. Walking might be an option, but first, dropping the agony to something below excruciating sounded appealing.
* * *
“Thank you,” I said to the Queen, trying not to sound weak as symbols for joy and health etched across my forearms. “This is a huge favor.”
* * *
“Not a favor, a respect. We admire your fight for truth. From this point, any talented witch can cure your ailment. We’ll take this,” she pointed to the spittoon, “and study its origins and purpose. The fae understand war well, and if Ares assists, our battle lines lie beside yours. En venterim.”
The former coffee table now resembled an apothecary, and Glenna hummed as she sorted, setting up a series of bottles and a small fire. The latter she fed with aromatic herbs, and the condo careened from scents of upscale restaurants to floral fields. I breathed, relaxing.
* * *
“Maybe lavender is the new weed.”
* * *
“What makes you think it isn’t for magicals?” Glenna smirked, laying the last bottle on the table. I eyed the two neat rows.
* * *
“Are you going to tell me what’s happening?”
* * *
She gestured to the first row. “The potions are for internal healing.” She gestured toward the second row. “The topicals are for the skin. Keep that bite stick handy.”
* * *
“If I have any teeth left,” I muttered.
* * *
“I’m pretty good with teeth,” Glenna’s gap-toothed grin beamed, and I tamped the mental eye roll.
* * *
“Do you need me?” Parker asked. “It’s time for my shift at The Boogie.”
* * *
Chelsea smirked, vanished his towel, and snapped, sending him back to his now freezing shower.
* * *
“Did you pop him to where you found him? Had to be howl worthy,” I grinned.
* * *
“Parker has a ton to learn about h
anging out with witches,” Chelsea replied. “Of course I reversed each step before returning him. Next time he’ll think through his ask before he runs his mouth. Besides, if he’s gonna barf up his breakfast, might as well be in the shower.”
* * *
“Don’t weaken the Keeper. I’m still not one-hundred percent.”
* * *
“Yet.” Glenna fished a few leaves into the fire, which shaded to ivy green smoke. “Time to begin.”
* * *
She tipped the first potion in and I gagged; the acrid tang of bile filling my mouth.
* * *
“This is to pull the toxin from your organ linings. A clever and thorough sickening. You’d have wasted away far beyond the damage to your knee.”
* * *
Who did this to me, and why?
* * *
Glenna poured the next liquid down my throat. “Swallow it all at once, Keeper.”
* * *
Pain gripped my gut, and my bowels rumbled, but I held on, brain working overtime.
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