Out of Tune

by Amy Sumida

  Saif's brows rose in delight.

  “Kasteo, we don't have time for a tour,” I chided him. “The ferh will have to do for now.”

  “Fine. You're no fun,” Kasteo huffed and let Saif go. “Just because there's a looming apocalypse, it shouldn't stop us from enjoying ourselves.”

  “The Cat has a point.” Declan slid up beside me gracefully and took my arm. “If we waited for a trouble-free time to enjoy ourselves, we'd never do so.”

  “True, and I'm all for taking our little pleasures where and when we can find them,” I conceded. “But not right now.”

  “I am content to wait,” Saif offered.

  “Good, because we've arrived.” I waved a hand forward.

  Our group wove through the crowd and stepped up to a shop with a small front window and a bright blue door. The window had a single word painted on it—Kujitia—and lights shone down on the jewelry displayed behind it. Although sunlight filtered down from above, the Bazaar buildings were all several stories high and crossed with walkways. Not to mention the traffic of flying Beneathers. The ground level tended to be shady at best. But gems thrived in spotlights and the artificial light directed upon them set them to sparkling like nothing else but magic could have. Even I paused to admire the display.

  No bell jingled when we entered. It wasn't necessary; the proprietress was always in the main room when her shop was open. Shani stood behind one of the jewelry cases, ringing up a purchase for a Swan-Shifter. The delicately beautiful Swan took one look at my large party—both in numbers and in physicality—and shrank back.

  “Easy, Linella,” Shani cooed. “Don't you recognize the Zone heroes? That's Elaria Tanager and her illustrious lovers.”

  “Illustrious,” Declan murmured gleefully. “I like that.”

  “Oh,” Linella whispered with some awe. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Linella, nice to meet you,” I said with a bright smile. “We'll just wait over here till you're done.” I moved to the far end of the shop so we wouldn't crowd her.

  Bird-Shifters tend to be skittish, even the predator birds can get jumpy. I'd only met one who wasn't, but she still acted as if she were for business reasons. It worked well for her.

  Shani concluded her sale, wished her customer a good day, then cocked her head at me. “You're not here for my jewelry.”

  “No, not today.” I stepped up to the counter. “I need you to contact a dead Satyr.”

  Shani paled. “Not a Demos Satyr?”

  “Yes, actually. Petra. She has some information I need.”

  “That's one bitch I never want to speak to,” Shani declared. “Not even dead.”

  “This is life or death, Shani,” I said gravely. “As in; for an entire race.”

  “What?” She blinked, her eyes going distant, then blinked again, refocusing on me. “I can't help you, Elaria.”

  “Why not?” I growled.

  “Shani, is it?” Prince Saif stepped forward. “I will pay any price for your assistance. Name it.”

  “You misunderstand me.” Shani straightened. “It's not that I won't help you. I can't help. I'm not strong enough. You want information that Petra—a woman who was known for her fortitude when she was alive—is unwilling to give. Death hasn't diminished her will. I can feel it; feel her. She's close and she's laughing at you, Elaria. Petra will not give you what you want. You need to find someone strong enough to take it from her. You need a necromancer.”

  “What's the difference between a medium and a necromancer?” Gage asked.

  “Mediums speak to the dead. Necromancers command them,” Shani said gravely; no pun intended.

  “Do you know of one?” Torin asked.

  “Not personally. But you may be able to find a Naga necromancer; they tend to be closer to the dead than us Felinae,” Shani suggested.

  I grimaced. Go figure.

  “Or, better yet, a Dragon,” she went on. “Reptilian-Shifters make the best mediums and often produce necromancers.”

  I went still.

  Shani continued, ignoring my shock, “A Water Dragon would be even better; water is a spiritual conductor and their affiliation with it makes them experts at contacting the dead. But finding a Dragon necromancer will be difficult, much less one who'll be willing to help you.”

  I swallowed roughly and looked at my men. They all wore matching expressions of resigned resolve.

  “You know one!” Shani exclaimed in shock. “Oh, Petra's not happy about that.”

  “The Ryū owe us a favor,” I reminded my guys. “We could go to them.”

  “I would go with that option if it weren't for the letter, little bird,” Torin said gently. “It's obvious now why Daha instructed you to contact King Verin. I don't think we should risk going to someone else at this point.”

  “Daha of the Nagas?” Shani asked in an awed tone. “You know him?”

  “I did,” I said grimly. Pointedly.

  “He's dead?” Shani asked, her face and voice soaked in sadness. “He was a great seer. One of the greatest to ever live. I'm sorry to hear of his passing.”

  “He was a great man as well,” I added. “He helped to save my consort and his zone.” I looked over at Saif. “And possibly the Jinn Race.”

  “The murdered seer you spoke of earlier?” Saif asked. “He helped us?”

  “He allowed himself to be murdered so he could deliver a message to me,” I said softly; with all the respect that statement deserved.

  “A message that could save my people?” Saif countered.

  “That remains to be seen,” I admitted

  “Whatever advice Daha gave you, Elaria, heed it,” Shani said urgently. “Tragedy befalls those who disregard Daha of the Nagas.”

  “Great,” I huffed. “As if I don't have enough of that coming my way.”

  “Do not worry, my lady; we will follow his advice,” Saif declared determinedly.

  “Looks like we're going swimming,” Gage announced.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  While Kasteo haggled over the price of a pendant, the rest of us withdrew to a corner to speak privately. King Verin—I would endeavor to think of him as such and not in more familiar terms—had given me a piece of blue coral to use to contact him, but I had also given him a contact charm. And I didn't have his coral on me. It was kinda the reason I gave him the charm; so I wouldn't have to carry his around in case of a Dragon emergency.

  I slipped my contact charm in my ear and called out, “King Verin of the Lóng.”

  A few seconds passed. Then a few minutes. Verin obviously didn't keep the charm I'd given him on his person either. I grimaced at that but what had I expected? He's a king; he had stuff to do. He wasn't going to keep a rock in his pocket on the off chance that some woman he barely knew needed—

  “Elaria,” Verin's—I mean King Verin's—deep voice slid into my ear like warm velvet. It was not sexy. I was not affected by it. But I am a big fat liar.

  I had buried the memories of the way Verin made me feel. Memories of a strange and powerful attraction between us. I have lovers who I'm just as powerfully attracted to, I didn't need another. Or rather, I didn't want to need another. I might end up needing one in the most dire sense of the word.

  “Your Majesty,” I said breathlessly then cleared my throat. “How are you?”

  Verin was silent a moment. “I'm well enough but you are not, are you?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I could use your help if you have some time to spare.”

  “If I can grant my assistance, I will.”

  “I'm told that the Lóng have some of the most powerful mediums in the Beneath.”

  Verin grunted, and I nearly laughed. He was a man who didn't waste words, not when a mere sound would do. Verin had a whole language of such sounds at his disposal. He'd made grunting into an art form.

  “I need a necromancer; someone who can contact a spirit and force them to give up information that they won't want to give.”

  Verin grunted
again but this time it was thoughtful.

  I waited; there wasn't anything else to say. The ball was in his watery court.

  “I think I have someone who will help you,” he finally replied. “But you will have to come to me. Is that something you're willing to do?”

  “Of course,” I said softly.

  Damn it all, why did everything he say sound like an innuendo?

  Because you want it to, RS said but it was without her usual snark. Perhaps you should stop fighting this, El.

  Not going to happen.

  Suit yourself.

  “I will have the wards lowered at the docking tower,” Verin offered. “You may travel directly there; into the air chamber.”

  “Um... I've never been to your court, and Shining One traveling stones can only take you to places you can envision.”

  King Verin made a grunt that expressed pondering and acknowledgment together. A sort of hmm-rumble combination. “I'll meet you at King Zhavage's docking tower.”

  “Okay, that'll work. When?”

  “I assume your need is pressing?”

  Oh, sweet stones, was he mocking me? My need? Pressing? Did he know the blood was rushing to my face?

  “Yes, the situation is urgent,” I confirmed.

  “Then come to me now, Elaria,” Verin declared. “I'll be waiting.”

  “Okay,” I practically whimpered the word. When I removed the charm and looked up at my men, I found them grimacing at me. I sighed and shook my head. “This is a bad idea.”

  “And yet, it's our best option,” Darc concluded.

  The men grimaced again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Verin was indeed waiting for us in King Zhavage's airlock atop his docking tower; a tower with a circular landing pad that was open to the sea and provided access to the Crimson Court via the attached airlock. King Zhavage and a retinue of his guards waited with King Verin.

  My eyes went to the Blue Dragon first. If Verin's voice had disturbed me, his appearance was a walking mental breakdown. I'd never thought blue hair could be attractive but Verin's indigo locks—held back from his face by thin yet complicated braids at his temples—was intriguing instead of weird. The color was almost dark enough to be black but the overhead lights set it to gleaming like a sapphire. And as if that wasn't enough blue for the Dragon King, his eyes were an icy aquamarine. Well, perhaps not as icy as they had once seemed. Currently, their color was warming in ways that I didn't want to acknowledge, quickly turning turquoise. I knew what that meant and it didn't bode well for my peace of mind.

  Standing beside the extravagant King Zhavage, Verin should have paled or even looked coarse. Instead, Zhavage's crimson hair—left loose to drape down his back to his ankles—seemed too shocking beside Verin's somber and shorter locks. The Red Dragon's fine silk robes with their golden embroidery also made him appear pompous when compared to the Blue Dragon's sedate leather and linen. A peacock strutting beside an ambivalent falcon. Not that Zhavage wasn't entitled to strut; he was a damn fine-looking man who would have been resplendent if Verin hadn't been ruining the effect with his dangerous, apathetic allure. I suppose they should have been a perfect foil for each other, and I wondered why they weren't.

  Because you're not attracted to Zhavage, RS said in a duh tone.

  This feels worse than it did before, I noted.

  Worse? Kyanite asked.

  My attraction to King Verin feels stronger.

  Because we need him more than ever now, RS answered plainly, once more without sass. That alone spoke to the danger of our situation.

  “Queen Elaria!” King Zhavage sprung forward to embrace me like a long-lost friend. “When my brother said you were coming for a visit, I dropped everything to greet you.”

  “Thank you, that's most kind of you, Your Majesty,” I said as I returned his hug. “I'm sorry to interrupt your day.”

  “You are a welcome diversion.” He grinned at me and lowered his voice. “Even more so for my brother. I bless your arrival, Elaria... and anything else you may wish to do in my kingdom.”

  I wasn't about to touch that comment. Instead, I cleared my throat and slowly backed away so as not to spook the beast. Zhavage grinned knowingly but moved on to greet my men and get introduced to Prince Saif. Which left me standing alone before Verin.

  “King Verin, thank you again for helping us.”

  Verin inclined his head. “It's good to see you, Your Majesty.”

  “And you.” I cleared my throat. “Will we need to travel to your court to speak with the seer?”

  “Yes, my mother never leaves our kingdom.”

  “Your mother?” I gaped at him.

  “Queen Savassa is the most powerful of our necromancers and has already consented to help you.” Verin—ugh! King Verin— lifted a brow, his eyes shining with mischief. “Is her relation to me a problem?”

  “Not at all,” I recovered. “I was just surprised that your mother is a medium.”

  “All Lóng have a touch of psychic power,” Zhavage interjected as he glided back to us. “But Queen Savassa is renowned for her ability to control the dead. I had assumed that was what prompted you to seek King Verin's help as opposed to mine. But now, it appears that you had no knowledge of this fact.”

  The question in his statement was obvious and both Zhavage and Verin waited for my answer; Verin with a small smile hovering around his firm lips. I shared a look with my men, and they gave me a look that was the equivalent of a shrug. An eye-shrug.

  “It's been...” I cleared my throat again and started over. “Um... We've had some trouble recently.”

  “So we assumed,” Zhavage noted dryly.

  “How did you get to the Crimson Kingdom so quickly, King Verin?” I procrastinated. “I assumed your courts were placed some distance apart.”

  Verin made an amused sound. “They are, but, if you'll recall, we have charms similar to your Shining One traveling stones.”

  Verin held up a strong hand and showed me the golden ring on his pointer finger. It was set with a piece of blue coral that matched the chunk he'd given me to contact him with. Evidently, coral was merely a receptacle, not the source of the magic.

  “I have loaned a vessel to my brother to transport all of you,” Zhavage interjected. “But, I think you're trying to avoid my implied question, Your Majesty. So, I'll be more direct; why go to my brother instead of me?”

  I grudgingly pulled Daha's note from the pocket of my designer jeans—the only kind of jeans Slate bought—and handed it to Zhavage. “My boyfriend, Slate, has been having trouble in his zone. We consulted a Naga seer named Daha and he helped us save the Zone. However, there was another issue that he didn't warn us about; Slate is possessed. The entity possessing him returned later and murdered Daha to keep me from speaking with him again. As you can surmise from his note, Daha foresaw his death but met it bravely and used it as a chance to slip me that message. He is the reason I contacted King Verin instead of you.”

  Zhavage scanned the note, his eyes widening when he reached the end, then handed the paper to Verin. Verin showed no reaction as he read it, only the color of his eyes betrayed him; going from turquoise back to cool aquamarine. He folded the note and returned it to me.

  “What do you think, Brother?” Zhavage prompted Verin when it became apparent that he wouldn't comment. A grin hovered around Zhavage's lips. “How is it that only you can save our lovely Spellsinger? What exactly do you have to offer her that I don't?”

  “Cease,” Verin growled.

  Zhavage held up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm merely curious.”

  “Prophecies only reveal themselves in the end,” Verin said grimly. “I don't waste time trying to unravel such puzzles.”

  “He likely meant that your mother would be the only one who could contact Petra for us,” I offered.

  “Petra?” Verin asked sharply. “The Satyr crime boss?”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind of trouble are you having t
hat you need to—” Verin cut himself off when his stare landed on Saif then he scowled. “It's the Jinni, isn't it? Petra's lover. What has he done?”

  “He's the spirit who has possessed Slate,” Darcraxis answered for me.

  “Impossible,” Zhavage scoffed. “Jinn cannot possess Beneathers.”

  “That's exactly what my family said,” Saif interjected. “But it seems as if it is possible. And what's worse is the occurrence heralds the end of my race.”