by D. D. Chance
I pushed the sudden panic from my mind. There’d be time to resolve all that later…after I divorced at least one of my king husbands.
I winced and schooled my mind as I refocused on Aiden. “I will be safe,” I agreed. “Celia will be with me. Niall too, if you can spare him.”
Aiden nodded, seeming legitimately happy with that last request. “I can do that.”
We all stood together a few minutes later, Celia looking mulish, Niall looking intrigued.
“I wondered what you were going to do, but this wasn’t it,” Celia muttered. “I’m not sure this particular witch would be interested in a Fae at her doorstep.”
“Oh, but when it’s a Fae as attractive as I am,” Niall protested, “I think it would be hard for any witch to resist, a witch who apparently styles herself a queen.”
Aiden snorted, but Celia didn’t look any less stressed. She still didn’t remember much of her actual human life, even if she acknowledged she must have had one. But the mention of the head of the coven of the Iron Sea had garnered her attention. I didn’t know Danae, the high priestess of that coven, personally—I’d made a concerted effort to ignore any of the other most powerful covens, lest I somehow inadvertently draw the attention of the one of I was most trying to avoid. But I’d sent my share of rogue witches through Chicago, where Danae was based, and she and her people had never stepped in to send the witches back. More importantly, I had heard rumors that Danae had allied herself with some of the most powerful non-witch psychics in the world. Maybe she knew more about the Fae than most witches did? I might as well start at the top.
“Look, we don’t have much choice,” I said. “I don’t know what Cassandra has told any of the covens, but of the two ancient enemies of witches, the Fae are the lesser evil. If I show up with a full-fledged Fae to plead my case, it’s at least theoretically possible that Danae will take the time to listen. She’ll be curious, anyway, I gotta think. And one thing about witches, we’re well known for allowing our curiosity to get the better of us.”
“She will listen,” Aiden said with a certainty that made me blink.
He smiled. “No special magic required,” he assured me. “Danae of the Iron Sea is well known to us, as are her warriors. Their curiosity rivals that of the Fae. She will be eager to hear your tale. More than that, it sounds to me like Cassandra is making a power play to assert her dominance over the other covens. From what little I know of Danae, that’s not going to go over well. She’ll make time for you.”
“So what should we be worried about?” Niall asked, spreading his arms wide.
“You should worry about her eating you for breakfast,” Celia said succinctly. “Her coven’s military unit is known as the Death Walkers, and they’ve earned the title.”
I made a face. She wasn’t wrong. But again, I didn’t see that we had any other choice.
Aiden sketched the portal, and we peered through. It was nighttime in Chicago, where Danae made her home, with the moon nearing its fullest form. I could see the bright lights of a large building in the distance, and I knew what it was.
“That’s their mansion. It’s at the edge of one of the city parks. There will be guards. They’ll know the moment we cross over.”
“Then we’d best get on with it,” Niall said, practically bouncing on his toes. “Come on! It’ll be fun.”
Aiden nodded, and we stepped up to the portal. I felt the visceral tug of leaving him—then we were through.
I sighed as I stepped into the humidity of a cool Chicago night. There was something quintessentially human about the city, and it felt like coming home. I frowned, turning that thought over in my head. Aiden had made me his queen, and yet—despite everything I’d worried about, I had totally just entered the human realm again, sure as the shadows lurking between the trees. I could still feel the weight of the emerald crown and steel shackles pressing down on me, which meant I remained wrapped in Fae spells, so what was happening here? Were Cyril and Jorgen wrong? Could I return at will, or only with a Fae guard…or only for a little while? What had I actually done by agreeing to marry Aiden?
And how much had also marrying the king of the Fomorian altered those ancient rules?
My twisting thoughts were short-circuited as the darkness surrounding Danae’s stronghold split, and then split again. Suddenly, a phalanx of male and female witches melted out of the shadows, tall and fierce.
“You dare to bring the lightbringer to our home?” the nearest one said, drawing my attention. Her eyes glittered with malice. “We could strike him dead with the slightest spell.”
“You could,” I said as I sensed Niall barely stifling a cough. “But he isn’t your enemy. And he’s not who seeks to take your power. He may be your opportunity to strike down those who would.”
The woman eyed me with something approaching amusement, and I blinked, trying to peer at her more closely in the gloom.
“It’s about time a Hogan witch came to explain herself,” she said. “Welcome to my home, Belle. I am Danae, Head of the House of Swords, high priestess of the coven of the Iron Sea. I’ve been waiting for you.”
22
Aiden
Cyril alone was there to greet me when I reentered the throne room, a fact for which I was more than a little grateful.
“Report?” I posed to him as the portal winked out behind me.
He glanced back to the door, then plastered a bright smile onto his face. “You see! It is exactly as I predicted. Welcome, King Aiden. I’m afraid your cousin is in quite a state.”
I blinked, but recovered as Lena bustled in, her arms weighed down with an enormous book that streamed with ribbons and bits of gauze.
“Oh, thank the Light,” she said. “You picked a fine time for disappearing, King Aiden.”
She wasn’t wrong. She also wasn’t right. “Lena, it appears I’ve done you a disservice. You have a house full of guests to entertain while I attend to matters of war.”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “I would say our primary battlefront is not at the borders.” She shook the heavy book at me. “You would do well to strengthen your position at home, so that if war ever came to the castle, you would be well protected by those who would show you fealty, if you would only take the time to listen to them.”
The arrow was well shot, and I felt it hit, knocking back my own rush of annoyance that she would challenge me. I did have an obligation to my people, both here and on the battlefront. They didn’t meet need me to be their warrior alone, they needed me to be their king—a king and queen united, in fact.
One problem with that.
Lena saw it in my face and rolled her eyes, repositioning the books to one hip so she could wag her finger at me.
“You have lost your bride again, haven’t you? No wonder the Fae kings were so terrible at keeping magic in play in the kingdom. You can’t seem to hold on to the women who wield it.”
I lifted a hand in acceptance. “Belle is safe, but she isn’t here.”
“Well, where is she?” Lena demanded. “There is a fair amount of curiosity about the new queen of the Fae. It has been some time since the ancient rites have been honored. The kingdom is in need of a celebration, not more lies and endless fighting. There has been enough death.”
Once again, her criticism was unerring in its aim. “She had matters to attend to at home. Not all Hogan witches become queen.”
Surprisingly, another flick of irritation crossed Lena’s face. “Home,” she echoed, seeming genuinely surprised. “For how long?”
“However long it is, we can use that time to our advantage,” Cyril broke in with the air of a man surprised that he finally got his chance to speak. “Lena is right. The nobles of all the high-caste Fae are eager to see you and, of course, at least hear about your bride. Whatever time Belle needs in her own land, we can capitalize on it by getting you in front of the people who wish to see you, to speak with you. You have been king for a few short years, but there has been war off and on for generations.
War we’d believed was caused by mere wraiths plaguing our borders. A few know the truth, but it may be time for more than a few to understand what is truly going on.”
I nodded. I’d wanted my full team of warriors to be with me when I spoke to the heads of other clans, the representatives of the forest, the valley, and the mountain Fae. But I saw at once the wisdom of Cyril’s guidance. The Fae knew my strength as a general leading my warriors. They did not know me as their king, as a solitary Fae, here to lead them but also serve them. I owed them that.
Strange how in all the years I had dedicated myself to the service of my people, it had never once occurred to me to talk to them. To understand their concerns and their desires, or to share mine.
“Agreed,” I finally said.
Cyril did not give me a chance to change my mind.
“Excellent,” he said, before Lena could do little more than gape at me. “They’re waiting for you now, in a manner of speaking, in the atrium solarium.”
“All of them?” I asked, surprised as I pictured the expansive hall of glass. Cyril was already on the move, and I dropped into step behind him, Lena at my side.
“It has been some time since you explored the castle,” Cyril said, amused. “It’s the only room that would hold them all comfortably, where they wouldn’t expect to be fed.”
Lena picked up the tale. “Well, it’s not as if your grandfather ever entertained or had much use for any of the clans coming to the castle. Your father, the Light rest his soul, at least understood the power of the High King’s invitation. He made sure the atrium was fortified with whatever lingering Hogan magic he could scrape together.”
I screwed up my face and glanced sharply at Cyril, but his expression remained neutral.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Since when did my father care to entertain the clans?”
Cyril finally spoke. “Since he found that their adherence to the tithing requirements improved when he ordered their personal presence.”
I snorted. Well, at least that made sense. Intuiting that Lena was dying to tell me something more, I turned to her. “What do I need to know?”
“Well…” She drew herself up straight. “The clans have been able to save face despite the fact they are sending more people than they need to, all of them so curious they can hardly contain themselves, because of the guise of the royal wedding. So, in addition to the lord and lady of any given house, you also have some of their most important cabinet members. Advisors, chancellors—”
“Generals,” Cyril inserted, his voice barely a murmur.
“Financiers,” Lena continued, without breaking stride. Either she didn’t hear Cyril or she wasn’t about to cede the floor to him.
“Overall, there is an abiding awareness of what you have done for the people and what still is left to be done. Unusually, there is no judgment for what you have not been able to accomplish as yet. The general consensus is that there was little you could do under the rule of your father other than fight. And the crisis at the borders has been a sufficient distraction to keep you fighting.”
“Well, it’s gracious of them to understand,” I said drily.
“You must understand, the clans respect the old ways,” she insisted. “They respect the order of law, but they have not been ignorant of all the developments in the other realms, particularly the monster realms. The lesser Fae are able to move freely and without apparent purpose into the human realm and back out of it, albeit for brief amounts of time. And they can travel without any issue throughout the entire monster district, while the high Fae remain largely bound to our own realm.”
“Ah,” was the response I gave her to that. I didn’t know if Lena knew about the Riven District. I didn’t want to know. If I had my say, it wouldn’t be around long enough to matter.
“There are also tales of Fae incursions into the realms the Borderlands and the restricted area where the humans host their mage trials,” Lena continued. “The Laram have participated in those trials on occasion, for money, or so they say.”
“Well, I should hope it’s not for the joy of getting bested by some idiot human,” I offered, making Cyril smirk. “The purpose of those trials is to test and train young human wizards barely able to wrap their heads around magic and its power. What the Laram wish to do is their business.”
I sensed my mistake as I spoke, not missing the way Lena squared her shoulders to deliver her next line. “It is their business, except for this. As a result of their play in this testing realm, some of the Laram have, perhaps unsurprisingly, begun wondering if they should try their hand at magic as well. After all, if the humans can manage it, poorly or otherwise…”
For the first time during the conversation, I gave her my full attention. “The Laram are trying magic?”
“Not often and not well,” Cyril put in, clearly misinterpreting my interest. “Mortal magic is stunted and weak, other than in the hands of witches and a few elite families of wizards. The access the Laram have to it is solely in the monster realm and a few of the other ancillary realms. Within the human realm, they are reduced to illusion magic, but they have always employed that. Aggressor magic, healing, growth, strength, development of wealth for any but themselves—they have begun testing these skills in environments such as the mage trials.”
“But it’s giving them a taste of it,” Lena said dourly. “And that taste has not gone unnoticed by the families of the high Fae. They want the same, now that the Hogan witch has returned. And they want you to give it to them.”
By now, we had traversed nearly the length of the castle. The doors to the solarium were opened wide, the soft light from that room spilling out into the hallway. The hubbub of noise rose and fell, laughter, collegial chatter, life. How long had it been since anyone had filled those halls? Certainly not during my father’s time. When the Fae clans came to pay their tithes, he did not treat them as honored guests, but as vassals. That had changed. Perhaps it was time for other things to change as well.
“Well, let us see what agreements we can work out,” I said, startling both Cyril and Lena. Then I strode into the room.
23
Belle
The high priestess Danae didn’t say anything as we walked toward her beautiful home. I tried not to goggle, but it was difficult.
Much as with the coven of the White Mountains, it was clear to see the money inherent in every line of the Iron Sea coven’s stronghold. The building looked like it had been built in the mid-nineteenth century on a parcel of land that had to be worth millions based on its location in downtown Chicago. Tall, leafy trees whispered in the night wind, and electric lights gave off the appearance of gaslit lamps flickering and dancing in the moonlight.
More lights blazed from the home’s first floor, obscuring external details, but nevertheless exhibiting an unexpected feeling of warmth. I grimaced. How different it was from the feeling I got approaching my own coven’s stronghold…but I needed to be careful. When I had entered that holding, I’d been alone. Now, with Niall, I had a potential hostage who could be taken by the witches. A quick glance to my side verified the hostage wasn’t at all concerned about his predicament.
“Never much went in for human holdings. Always too damn small,” Niall said, looking around with interest. “But this is nice, I gotta say. Cozy.”
None of the other witches commented, and Celia and I exchanged a glance. Hard guys.
When we reached the steps, Danae pivoted toward us. “The wards of my home do not allow entrance from a member of the Fae, even one we may consider to be a friend. I apologize for the inconvenience. We will move around to the back, where there is suitable shelter for conversation.”
“I don’t mind standing in the open air,” Niall said, but Danae was already on the move. We walked along a paver-stoned path that skirted the building and opened out into an expansive lawn, once more ringed with trees. You would have to be navigating a camera-wielding drone to see into this property, and I wondered
what sort of additional wards she had set up to keep out the prying eyes of the curious. I had no doubt she had something in place.
Golden outdoor lights swept on as we entered the backyard. The space was dominated by a wide pergola a few steps off the ground. Danae headed there, and I was unsurprised to see the structure was already outfitted with a table overflowing with food and drinks. How she managed to assemble all that I wasn’t sure, but it spoke volumes to her intention for the conversation. It was to be friendly, polite. Which to me indicated we’d caught her interest, if nothing else. Nevertheless, my tension ratcheted up as we mounted the steps and she turned toward me.
“You can trust the food and drink,” she said quietly. “I can sense you have not had enough of either in recent days. You can’t allow your strength to fail you, Witch Hogan, not at such a time.”
Turning to the others, she raised her voice. “Enjoy whatever you will. There is even a flagon of fine honey mead, warrior Fae.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Niall announced, but he strode toward the waiting table. Celia sent me a pained glance, and I nodded for her to go after him.
Whether Niall was trying to steal the show or not, he was certainly succeeding at giving the impression of a boorish oaf, bumbling around the sophisticated witches. It was an act that drew bemused interest from Danae’s guards but no attention at all from the woman herself. Instead, she focused on me, and I returned her assessing gaze with one I hoped was steady.
Danae held herself like a warrior, but also like a queen. Tall and well-muscled, regal in her long silvery tunic and soft leggings that flared wide at the ankle, she was both badass and boss witch in one beautiful package. I wondered how many weapons she carried on her, beyond the visible small knife sheathed at her waist. I had vaguely heard she had joined an international arcane black market syndicate, even become its leader, but I had plenty of problems of my own back in Boston. One of the bonuses of being a rogue witch, I didn’t need to worry about everyone else’s magic.
