Dark Revel

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Dark Revel Page 20

by E. A. Copen


  “I accept your oath,” I said and tapped him on the shoulder with the plastic scepter, “and bid you rise Sir Ethan Foxglove, Knight of Miracles.”

  Magic suddenly snapped between us, sharp and stinging like a rubber band. It rose and exploded in a single moment before settling into a thin thread that left us connected. I staggered and almost fell.

  Foxglove grabbed me by the arm and steadied me. “Knight of Miracles. I almost like the sound of it. Fitting because it’ll be a miracle if we get out of this alive.”

  “Trust me.” I patted him on the shoulder. “This is going to work.”

  I opened the gate and we went back through it. The band had picked up a more energetic number, prompting people to jump around. One girl bumped into me on my way through. Foxglove grabbed her and pushed her away roughly.

  “Easy man. It was an accident.”

  His sharp eyes squinted at the girl cussing him out. “I don’t believe in accidents.”

  Apparently, he was going to take his new role very seriously. He cleared the path in front of me, holding people back so I could pass. As we cut through the crowd, people gradually stopped hopping around like maniacs to glance at us and whisper. It made me more than a little self-conscious. I tugged my mask down and lowered my head. I hadn’t wanted people to notice us, and now it seemed like everyone was staring.

  We made it through the courtyard without anyone stopping us and to the stairway where William stood guard.

  He put his hand on his sword at the sight of us. “I thought I told you to leave.”

  “You said anyone presenting a viable suitor could see Remy.” I gestured to Foxglove.

  William scrutinized my knight. “You, Ethan?”

  “Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are,” Foxglove grumbled.

  William turned his attention to me without removing his hand from his sword. “Only members of a court may present a suitor.”

  “He is.” Foxglove cleared his throat and gestured to me. “May I present Lazarus Kerrigan, Pale Horseman and...king?” He glanced at me.

  I shrugged. “Sure? Why not?”

  “King of the Court of Miracles.” He rolled his shoulders and stood up straighter. “And I am his knight.”

  William’s arm relaxed but his eyes widened. “You’re serious? How? There hasn’t been a new court formed in... Well the Uprising was the last attempt. The queens will be enraged!”

  “I’m more than qualified,” I said, and started counting on my fingers. “I’ve killed about half a dozen gods, killed Lucifer Morningstar, defended my city and its people against countless monsters, served as the Summer Knight...”

  “Briefly,” William ground out.

  I dropped my hands to my side. “Well, during that brief tenure, I successfully defended Summer from an invasion and reminded Shadow why I was a force to be reckoned with. I also happen to be the Summer Princess’ father. I have over a dozen people in my court, William. We’ve got headquarters, and now I have a knight. Is that legit enough for you?”

  “Well... I don’t know the procedure for the formation of new courts to be honest with you. That’s uncharted territory. Since I can’t deny your claim is legitimate, however, there’s no reason for me to turn you away. Come.” He started up the stairs.

  I didn’t miss that his hand stayed on his sword all the way to the top.

  A heavy velvet curtain had been drawn, blocking the upstairs dining room from view. “Wait here,” William commanded and ducked through.

  I strained my neck to get a look, but he was too fast.

  Foxglove bounced on the balls of his feet once and then shook his head. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Steady, Foxglove.”

  “Do you know what’s going to happen when I walk in there? She’ll laugh at me. At any attempt, no matter what it’s grounded in. The moment I walk through that door, she’s going to think I... That I have feelings for her.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Come on, man. It’s pretty obvious you do.”

  His pale cheeks colored. “It’s not proper.”

  I swept around in front of him so I could face him. “First of all, fuck proper. Proper is stuffy and boring. Chicks don’t dig proper.”

  He blinked. “She’s not a hen.”

  “No, I mean...” I wanted to strangle the guy. How could I get him to understand the point I was trying to get across? I gripped his shoulder. “It’s okay to feel how you feel about a person, regardless of whatever differences there are between you. This isn’t one of those things you can just wish away. You care about her. I can see it. If she’s half the woman you say she is, she will too. Just be nice. Be who you’ve always been, understand?”

  He nodded.

  I stepped back. “Now that doesn’t mean I approve of this. Just so we’re clear, this is all a ruse so I can get in there to see her. Not me giving my blessing or anything. I’m not cool with anything between you two.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I’m her father,” I said, dusting off my shirt. “It’s my job to object to boys.”

  The curtains parted and William stepped out. “She’ll see you. Just keep in mind that I’m watching your every move.” He lifted the curtain and announced, “May I present Sir Ethan Foxglove of the Court of Miracles, accompanied by the King of Miracles and Pale Horseman, Lazarus Kerrigan.”

  Foxglove and I stepped through the curtain at the same time.

  The dining room had been cleared of chairs and tables, leaving a huge open space with big windows and heavy drapes pulled back to let in light from the outside. Moonlight pooled in square spaces cast through the windows. Soft lighting from delicate chandeliers illuminated yellow striped walls and a blazing Tiffany fireplace with a large mirror above it.

  I saw her in the mirror first. She had her back to it, standing in one of the windows, one gloved hand pushing aside the curtain. She wore a dress of emerald green with golden trim. The bottom of it brushed the floor in a long, sparkling train. Dark hair curled around her head and spilled down her back in tiered waves.

  She turned away from the window and folded her hands in front of her, her face hard and cold like Titania’s. “Hello, father.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Remy?” My throat was dry. This couldn’t be her. She’d just been a baby last time I’d seen her. I didn’t care how fast time moved in Faerie. She couldn’t have become a fully-grown woman in a week. I just couldn’t believe it.

  “You’ll address me as Your Highness,” she said her voice harsh and even. “I should have you thrown out of here.” Her eyes flicked to Foxglove. “Both of you.”

  Foxglove fell to one knee like a puppy. “Highness, allow me to explain.”

  “Explain what?” Remy snapped. “Your shifting loyalty? Your alliance with a man I hate? Or your betrayal when I needed you most? How dare you come here and pretend to care about me!”

  “I do.” He shook his head. “More than anything.”

  “We’re not here to hurt you,” I said, taking a step forward. “We’re here to help you.”

  “Help me?” She tossed her head back and laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. Did you forget so soon what happened the last time we saw each other? You struck me. Threatened to kill me. It took the queen herself and her knight to remove you from my presence.”

  “That wasn’t me. Titania has a fetch, someone who looks exactly like me. He’s impersonating me, hurting the people I care about. He took you from me, Remy.” I took another step but found William’s naked blade in my way, preventing me from getting any closer.

  Remy walked away from the window to look me in the eyes. “If that’s true, why didn’t you come for me?”

  “I...I couldn’t.” I hung my head. “I tried. I tried everything but it’s taken me this long to get close to you. Remy, look at me. I’m your father.”

  “Maybe you did father me, but I don’t know you. You didn’t raise me. What I do know is what you’re capable of.
You’re a killer. You murdered my mother.”

  My head shot up. “What? No! Odette died in childbirth.”

  “Titania told me you were responsible.”

  I snapped my jaw shut. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Odette wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t had a child with her, or if I had apprehended Kellas sooner. It was my fault she was gone, even if I hadn’t meant for her to die.

  Remy wasn’t wrong about me being a murderer either. I had killed plenty, including a friend, just to get this far. I’d do it again too. She was right. About everything.

  “Please, Remy,” Foxglove whispered, still on his knees. “I know you don’t want to be paraded around by her, traded for an alliance and power. She’s using you.”

  Remy’s head snapped to the side. “And what makes you any different? I thought you were. I thought you cared about me. Instead, you disappeared and pledged your loyalty to a man who not only abandoned me for years but hurt me. Why? What did he promise you?” She balled her fists and stomped over to stand in front of him. “Did he promise you a place in my bed? That’s what you really want, isn’t it? I am not some prize to be won!”

  “Remy, please!” Foxglove insisted, but it was no use.

  I backed away. We had to get out of there before this went south and Titania showed up. If I hurried, I might be able to make it across town to get to Emma. Not that I wanted to give up on Remy, but I couldn’t help her, not without proof that I was who I said I was. Better to retreat and regroup.

  I took another step back and bumped into a solid wall of muscle. The guards from the courtyard.

  “Take them away!” Remy demanded. “Lock them in the tower where I spent my childhood and let them rot there.”

  “No, wait,” I started, but one of the guards grabbed my shoulder.

  I turned and punched him in the jaw. It was like punching a bull. His head barely moved and all I did was piss him off. He flashed his teeth and hit me with a brick of a fist, laying me out flat. I must’ve blacked out for a second because when I came to, they were dragging me down the stairs. My vision was blurry and I couldn’t hold a thought in my head longer than a fraction of a second. Thinking was too hard. Great, a concussion. I couldn’t afford that. I needed to be somewhere, to do something. If only I could remember what.

  Maybe a nap would help.

  I OPENED MY EYES TO darkness. The air was cold and musty, smelling of moss and mold. Somewhere distant, water dripped at an uneven rate that’d slowly drive me insane. I sat up with a groan and chains rattled. My shoulder brushed against something solid and slimy that, on further examination, turned out to be a stone wall.

  The throbbing in my head suddenly increased to a deafening thump. My stomach rebelled and I doubled over to throw up. Oddly enough, it made me feel better, though I’d have killed for a glass of water.

  “I see you’re not dead.” Foxglove’s voice echoed through the darkened chamber. “Pity. That would’ve been better than what we’re facing. I almost hoped you were.”

  I slid my hand up the wall and used it to steady myself as I stood. Resistance tugged at my leg when I tried to move it. Bastards had chained me up. “Where are we?”

  “Summer, or the edge of it. Trapped in the bowels of a prison tower. I believe we’re against the moat, which would explain the dampness.” He didn’t sound the least bit upset. In fact, Foxglove sounded as if he could burst into laughter at any moment. Maybe he’d lost his mind.

  I searched the wall with my hands, looking for weak bricks or anything useful. When that proved pointless, I searched myself. I was still in my suit from the party. Maybe I’d gotten lucky and they hadn’t taken the vial of stuff Josiah had given me. I might be able to open a portal from here. Dammit, I thought, coming up empty, no such luck. “How long have we been here?”

  “Does it matter?” Chains rattled somewhere off to my left, though I couldn’t see where he was. “We’re here. We lost. We played our hand and lost. What are you doing?”

  “Trying to find a way out.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve tried that already?” Water splashed and Foxglove staggered into the edge of my vision, a dirty, haggard version of himself. “Our only chance is to wait for rescue, and no one is coming.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “There has to be a way. There’s always a way.”

  He sighed. “I’ve been thinking that very thing. Perhaps we could overpower the guards when they come for us, if only they would come into the dungeon. They come once a day to toss us a crust of bread, but they always manage to stand just out of reach. But that was before you were awake. Have you tried your magic?”

  I reached for my power but felt nothing. There was no death in Faerie, which meant my necromantic powers would be worthless here unless Remy was also present. Okay, what about my Horseman abilities? I closed my eyes and tried to activate my Vision, but when I opened them again, there was no glowing orb where Foxglove’s soul should have been. “I don’t understand. It should work. Why isn’t it working?”

  The only explanation I could think of would be that the Baron had carried through with his threat to strip me of the mantle. No, he couldn’t do that, not unless he came to see me in person, and the pain of losing it should’ve woken me.

  I tugged on the chains and felt the faint touch of magic in them. “It’s the chains,” I growled. “They’re shutting my magic down. Can’t use it.”

  Foxglove sighed and fell back against the wall. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  I gave up fighting the chains and backed toward the corner to sit. “How do you know they come once a day?”

  “They’ve come three times. I just assumed that meant once a day. It seemed like there were many hours between the visits.”

  Three days in Faerie. How long had Remy been gone? Just over a week on Earth? And she’d aged a decade. I didn’t know exactly how time moved here. We might’ve been gone only a few minutes, or I could’ve missed years already. Maybe so much time had passed that everyone I knew on Earth was gone.

  A sinking feeling settled in my stomach while the throbbing in my head grew steadier. No matter how long we’d been there, one thing was for sure. I had missed my chance to save both Remy and Emma. They were both lost now. How had I screwed this up so badly? Josiah was right. I never should’ve been involved with them. I should’ve walked away, focused on stopping Loki. Maybe once he was dealt with, I could relax and enjoy my life. Maybe things could go back to normal.

  Normal, I scoffed. Since when has anything in my life ever been normal? I didn’t even know what normal was, especially now that I wouldn’t have Emma and Remy anymore. What would life be like without them? Who would I call in the middle of the night when I needed back up? Who would I complain about little things to? Who would I laugh with?

  The sinking feeling became a dull ache and rose to my chest. What was the point of escaping if not to go back to them? They were everything to me and I’d squandered my time with them as if there was no shortage of it.

  I pulled my knees up and buried my head in my arms. Foxglove was right. Things would’ve been better if I hadn’t survived. “I failed. Emma is dead, for all I know, and Remy hates me. My fetch won. What’s the point in any of this now?”

  “What’s the point?” Foxglove tried to come closer, pulling the chains as tight as they would go. “I was thinking the same thing before you woke up. I finally got to be the knight of a court and didn’t even make it a day. I’ll go down in history as the shortest court knight who ever served. Not only that, but I’ll be the butt of every knightly joke in the future for serving a human. No offense.”

  I said nothing.

  Foxglove cleared his throat. “To make matters worse, I was just rejected by the woman I loved and protected for over a decade. Not to mention the death sentence hanging over my head. I’d say things look pretty bleak for us, my friend. I even considered strangling myself with my chains. Of course, without Remy here, I can’t even die, can I
? You think you’ve got it bad. At least you might die. I’ll just waste to nothing.”

  I lifted my head slightly. “I didn’t realize this was a misery competition.”

  “I’m not miserable.” He strained against the chains to step into a patch of dim light coming through a crack high in the wall. It highlighted a crazy glint in his eye. “I’m pissed off. In fact, I’m too pissed off to be upset about the rejection, or my situation. All I care about right now is finding our root problem and tearing it apart with my bare hands. I’d really like to kill you, Lazarus. But I’d settle for your fetch since he’s the one who turned Remy against us.”

  “And how do you expect to do that?” I raised my wrist and shook the chain. “We’re chained in a dungeon. I’ve got no magic. You’ve got no weapons and we don’t even know if or when anyone is coming down here.”

  “I’m going to demand a trial by combat.”

  I burst into laughter that echoed off the damp stone walls. “Trial by combat? You can’t seriously believe they’ll even allow that?”

  “I am an anointed knight and you are a deposed monarch. It’s a well-documented tradition going back generations.”

  “But I can’t fight!” I spread my hands wide. “I’ve won a few, sure, but mostly by luck. I certainly couldn’t take on any of Summer’s champions, especially not the Summer Knight. No offense, but I’m not even sure you could, Foxglove.”

  “Listen to me.” He jerked against the chains, his voice growing fierce. “It’s your only chance. Eventually, Titania will come to pass judgment and you must demand a trial by combat. She will allow you to choose a weapon. Choose your magic.”

  I shook my head. “It’s no good here, not unless Remy is around, and people are dead. Maybe I can get to someone’s soul if the chains come off, but that’s it.”

  “Just do it, Lazarus. Trust me. You made me your knight for a reason. Listen to me.”

  I grumbled something incoherent at him. My head was hurting too bad to think. The security guy who’d clocked me upside the head had done a hell of a job. I needed to rest, but it was too cold in the dungeon to get any sleep, even curled up into a tight ball. Every time I would get close, my own shivering would wake me. Funny, considering we were supposed to be in Summer. I guess we were on the edge.

 

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