by Alicia Wolfe
“You’re the first human I’ve met who was given free rein in the castle.”
“Is that what I’ve been given, free rein? You mean I can go…anywhere?”
She actually laughed. “Well, not anywhere, but you can wander about without supervision.”
“I think that’s about it, miss,” one of the make-over artists told me. “You’re ready to go.”
I flashed another look quick in the mirror, shocked at just how good I looked, then thanked each of the women profusely. They took it all with wide smiles, then left.
“Are you ready for the feast?” Jessela asked.
My heart fluttered. “I’m ready.”
We left my little room and marched through the corridors of the palace toward the dining hall. As we went, others joined us, all Fae decked out in their finery. Each Fae was beautiful, whether male or a female, and their clothes would have dropped jaws on Fifth Avenue.
“So how well do you know Davril?” I asked Jessela, careful to keep my voice casual.
One of her eyebrows shot up. “I’ve known him for centuries, my dear.”
Centuries. Jesus. I had forgotten the Fae were practically immortal.
“How well have you known him during that time?” I asked.
“You noticed my dodge, eh?”
“Yes.” Just answer the question!
“Why do you ask?” She cast me a sidelong glance, then returned her attention forward. More and more people were joining us in the halls, or we had entered a well-populated area, and there was noise and conversation all around. Just the same, she had lowered her voice, which I appreciated.
“No reason,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t creak.
Still looking annoyingly amused, she said, “Then I have no reason to answer.”
I resisted the urge to strangle her. “I just wondered, that’s all. I mean, he is going to be my, uh, partner soon.”
She frowned. “I hadn’t forgotten.”
I sighed. She was still holding back, and holding answers, too. For some reason, I found myself wanting to be friends with her. She was a beautiful (of course) badass Fae Knight, and she knew all the ins and outs of this place. What’s more, she knew my future partner much better than I did, and I wanted all the information I could get on him. Which was the only reason I was asking, I told myself. I was just collecting information. Intelligence gathering. Right.
A grand archway appeared around a bend, and we all poured into a great open room that seemed half ballroom, half immense dining room, with several large tables on various levels and a great open dance floor to one side. Magical balls of white-gold light hovered over the tables, and others shone from the fruits of the enchanted trees that sprang up throughout, giving the space an almost arboreal feel. The sap of the trees emitted a pleasing, cinnamon aroma, and it brought a pleasant lift to my mind. Better than smoking cigarettes.
Jessela and I ascended to the highest level and gathered around a huge polished-wood table with radiant red bark, along with many other handsome people—all Fae, no humans. Queen Calista took a seat at the head of the table first, with some fanfare—but not much—and then the rest of us sat.
Lord Davril Stormguard, looking most handsome indeed in his velvet and silk finery, with the light of the hovering orbs glowing on his golden hair, sat close to the Queen. He wore no sword. Or at least not a visible one. He wore tight leggings, which showed off every bulge of his muscular legs, buttocks, and, erm, other parts to great effect. At least the effect was great on me. I couldn’t speak for Jessela or the others.
As we sat down, he swung his gaze toward me, and I hastily looked away. My cheeks smoldered.
“Well met, friends,” Queen Calista said. Even though she hadn’t raised her voice, it echoed throughout the chamber. People at the other tables had found their seats by this time, and they were listening respectfully. “As many of you know, there are dark forces at work here lately, but have no fear. We have just taken steps to counter our enemies and drive them back.” Her blue eyes fell on me, and I shifted in discomfort. Could she possibly be talking about me? “So relax and enjoy yourselves,” Calista went on. “We will eat and dance and celebrate being alive.”
While she talked, her guests had been pouring wine into their glasses (I had been so bewildered I’d barely noticed) and now they lifted their glasses and said, “Hear, hear!”
Dully, I reached for my still-empty glass and raised it, echoing their words.
Dinner came, one course after another, but I didn’t comprehend much of it. My head was swimming with the heady magic radiating all around me, throbbing in my bones and filtering throughout my body. I felt like I was being irradiated, but in a good way, if that made any sense—completely fried by magic.
“Just breathe, my dear,” said the Fae Lord next to me. He was a handsome fellow with brown hair and a thick mustache—one of the few Fae I’d seen sporting facial hair.
“I’m trying,” I told him.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lord Gerwyn Seafoam.”
“Er, nice to meet you. Jade McClaren.”
We shook hands, though his was a little hesitant, and I realized Fae must not shake hands like humans did. Or maybe it was a Western thing, I wasn’t sure. Did Chinese people shake hands? If not, it made sense that Fae wouldn’t, either.
“Is it true that you’re going to work with Lord Stormguard?” asked a female Fae from across the table.
I started to answer, but Jessela leaned in and said, “Beash, she probably doesn’t want to be peppered with questions.”
The other female Fae bowed her head, accepting this. “But of course.”
“Forgive her,” Gerwyn Seafoam said. “She’s just curious. I’m afraid we all are.”
“I didn’t know the Fae gossiped so much,” I dared to say.
“I’m afraid we do, dear,” said another Fae Lord, a handsome fellow with hair as long as Jessela’s and as blond as Davril’s.
“That’s Lord Greenleaf,” Jessela whispered. “The Queen’s Grand Vizier.”
“We gossip a lot,” Greenleaf added. He said this glancing at the Fae all around, as if warning them not to pester me with questions. They nodded respectfully, and the conversation moved on to other matters. I nodded to Greenleaf, showing my appreciation, but he just smiled.
The courses were light and delicious, with lots of fish, elegant sauces, and crunchy bread. I tried not to drink too much, partly because I didn’t want to get even more out of sorts and partly because, for me, this wasn’t a day to celebrate. A friend of mine had just been killed and my sister had been abducted by God knew who. These Fae might be in a festive mood, but to me their cheer felt remote and strange.
Jessela seemed to sense my mood. At one point, she indicated the great windows that covered half the chamber.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she said.
From here, we could see the stars shimmering in inky blackness above, and lights that were almost like stars winking from the many towers of the vast city below.
“It really is,” I admitted. I pictured the comparative rat hole where Ruby and I lived and could only shake my head in amazement of the change one day could bring. Thinking of Ruby only depressed me, though, and Jessela looked disappointed when I didn’t brighten.
I remained quiet as the Fae finished their meals and migrated to the dance floor. Music had sprung up from somewhere, and it was like nothing I’d ever heard, faster and more challenging than I’d expected, but very classical, too. Somehow, the Fae musicians had found common ground between Beethoven and Bon Jovi. To my surprise, the music made me tap my toes, but I was shocked when I found Davril looming over me, his hand outstretched.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked.
“Uh…”
I shot a look to Jessela, but she waved a hand as if to say This is between you two.
I turned back to Davril. His gunmetal eyes drilled into me. Think of Ruby, I thought. Think of Jason. But his eyes continued a
ssessing me, and all other thoughts slipped from my mind.
“Um, okay,” I said. But only to continue my research. I needed to get to know my future partner better.
I took his hand, and he led me down the various daises to the dance floor. I was only a little surprised to see the Fae Lords around me begin to lift off from the floor and float through the air as if gravity were only an illusion, or maybe as if they were fish swimming through the sea. Gorgeous, stately fish shimmering with fantastic scales. Okay, maybe not like fish at all. But I did feel like I was underwater. Being bombarded with magical energy was bad enough, but having a bunch of well-dressed dancers waltzing over my head? I was simultaneously about to barf and weep with joy at the beauty of it all.
Davril’s hand went around my back before I could prepare myself, and he pressed me against him. My other hand was still firmly in his.
“Shall we?” he asked, wearing an infuriating smile, and like that—snap—we were lifting off the ground.
“Ack!” I said, flailing my feet.
As I did, I lost my balance. His arm tightened around me, holding me close.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Your feet still control how you move. Pretend there’s a floor under you.”
“So you’re not flying?”
He laughed, and I kind of loved how his face crinkled up when he did, and how his muscular throat flexed.
“Fae can’t fly,” he said. “At least not on their own. There are beings that can, of course,” he added, but he didn’t elaborate—at least not in the way I’d hoped. “Witches, too, need a little help, but they seem to get around okay.”
“I’m not a witch.”
“That broomstick you were riding says differently.”
“It’s my sister’s.”
“The one who was abducted.” He frowned.
I had to change the topic. We were dancing now, sailing through the air twenty feet above the ballroom floor. Other dancers spun and twirled around us. Davril was leading me, his hand on my back light and firm at the same time. Pressed against him, I was annoyingly aware of just how firm he was, and how large—tall. And his shoulders were very broad.
“You look nice,” I said, which had to be the worst diversion ever.
His frown continued for a moment, then lightened. “As do you.”
I felt my throat swell up. “Really?”
“Really.”
He smiled again, then led me in twirl. I laughed, surprised at how smooth it was, and felt even hotter when he caught me and dipped me. Our faces were very close. I hoped my breath wasn’t rank.
Straightening, we continued to dance, both quiet for a moment. Then he said, as if to kill the mood, “Have you decided where we’re going to tomorrow?”
Damn it. That was why he’d asked me to dance. He hadn’t wanted to dance at all—not that I had, either, sheesh, come on—but to grill me about tomorrow’s activities. Or to push me into planning it out.
“Actually, I don’t have any idea,” I said. “I mean, I’ve got some ideas—haha, you don’t need to put me back in jail or anything.” So funny, Jade. “But, um, I haven’t narrowed them down.”
“You’re trying to pick the best lead.”
“Exactly. I—”
Before I could go lamely fumbling for an excuse, a high-pitched scream cut the air.
Chapter 9
My head snapped in the direction of the scream. It had come from the daises leading up to the one the Queen’s table perched on. Some huge ogre-like thing, complete with tufts of hair sticking out all over its muscular body, was striding up to the top dais, sword clutched in its hand.
“A troll!” Davril said.
Ice flooded my veins. “Get us down,” I said. The last thing I needed was to be stranded in the air during combat.
Davril lowered us to the dance floor. Other dancers were alighting on the floor, as well. Meanwhile, the troll marched up the daises.
A Fae Lord sprang at the creature, yanking out his dress sword, but the blade shattered on the tough hide of the monster. The troll grabbed the Fae Lord up in the hand not holding the sword and flung him against an ornate column. I winced as I heard his body crack.
Another Fae Lord jumped at the monster, then a Fae lady. He swatted the first down, then stabbed the second.
Davril ripped out his own sword, which appeared from nowhere like before, and launched himself at the troll. I screamed for him to stop, hardly believing what I was doing, then rushed to help him.
The troll had reached the highest dais. It raised his bloody sword high over Queen Calista, who glowered at it in defiance. I was amazed by her calm demeanor and bravery. She didn’t even lift a finger to defend herself. She’s crazy, I thought.
But no.
The troll swung the sword down at her head, hard, with all the strength the brute possessed. There came a flash of light right before the blade struck her shining crown, and a blast of energy flung the troll back. It landed on its back, groaned, and sat up, still clutching its sword.
Two more Fae Lords jumped at it—well, one was a Fae lady. It grabbed the lord and bit his head off, then smashed the Fae lady in the head, snapping her spine.
Davril ran toward the monster. I was right behind him. I didn’t see how either of us could stop the beast.
Davril cocked his arm back—the one holding his weapon—and then launched the sword like a missile, right into the troll’s eye. The sword sank all the way to the hilt. The monster gave a last groan and toppled backward. It struck the floor with a mighty bam! and didn’t move again.
“You did it!” I cheered.
He didn’t acknowledge my praise, and we turned back to the dead monster.
Queen Calista stormed down the stairs, a deep scowl on her face. By her side was Lord Gerwyn Seafoam, the Fae with the brown mustache, holding his sword in hand. Queen Calista started to say something else, but someone shouted, and several of the Fae pointed toward the windows. Davril, Calista and I turned to see two witches on broomsticks hovering beyond the windows. They must have been watching the action. I couldn’t imagine how they’d gotten so close to the palace without being seen; even the best cloaking spells couldn’t overcome the magic of the Fae Lords. Unless…
But no, I thought. Surely not!
In any case, the cloaking spell had dissolved and the witches were plain to see.
“Get them,” Calista shouted.
Several Fae Lords ran to the balconies and jumped on their steeds. Davril clearly wanted to join them, but he knew his place was to guard the Queen. He stood by her even as the other Fae Knights gave chase to the witches. The two figures on their broomsticks vanished into the night, pursued by Fae Knights on winged horses and riding in winged cars.
At last our attention returned to the fallen troll…which was no longer a troll.
“Huh?” I said.
Because even as we watched, it was slipping forms, transforming from a huge, hideous brute to a young man in the clothes of a Fae Lord. He was handsome enough to pass for one of them, but I sensed he was only pretending.
“A mortal,” Davril said, as if to confirm my suspicions.
“He must have slipped in somehow,” Calista said.
“But how?”
That was Jessela, approaching the scene with her sword still unsheathed and a lock of hair out of place. She looked sweaty and tense, and I didn’t blame her.
“That’s the question of the day,” said another voice, and I turned to see Lord Greenleaf, the Grand Vizier.
“If he was an assassin,” I said, daring to speak up, “then he had help. Those witches may have been able to give him spells to turn him into that thing, but no way could they help him sneak in here. At least, I don’t think so,” I added shakily as all eyes turned to regard me.
“I agree,” Calista said, and I let out a breath in relief. She had come to my aid.
“But who could have let him in?” Davril said.
No one had an answer.
&n
bsp; “How did you resist that blow?” I asked Queen Calista. “When the troll struck at you, he just rebounded.”
She touched a jewel in her crown. “I am protected.”
“Did he know that?” I pointed my chin at the body.
No one had an answer to that, either.
“Maybe that’s what the witches were observing,” Davril said. “They sent the troll in to attack you, Your Grace, to find out what would happen. This poor creature was their sacrifice to discover what protective wards you have.”
“If so, then now they know,” Gerwyn Seafoam said.
More Fae Lords and Ladies had gathered to the scene of the carnage, gingerly stepping over and around the dead bodies. Several of the Fae were kneeling over the corpses, checking for signs of life or trying to heal them, but I didn’t think they’d have any luck. Fae were said to be immortal, but even they couldn’t live with a snapped neck, although I was sure it would take a lot of force to snap. But the troll had that power and then some.
Suddenly, I spied something.
Crouching down beside the body of the assassin, I peeled back his sleeve, exposing a network of tattoos. One was an unusual snake tattoo, or possibly a dragon. I unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a muscular chest also covered in ink.
“What are you looking for?” Jessela said, squatting next to me.
Davril peered down at us critically, as did various other Fae. I itched to be out from under their scrutiny.
“Gang signs,” I said. “Or some underworld symbol. Or maybe—ha!” I laughed as a tattoo caught my attention.
“What is it?” Davril inquired.
Despite the horror all around us, I grinned and pointed to the tattoo of a beautiful young woman with flowing black hair and liquid dark eyes.
“That’s Moody Maria,” I said. “Can someone bring me my phone? It’s in my belt. I need to take a picture.”
“Moody who?” Jessela sounded confused, and the Queen frowned. The Fae Lords were muttering to themselves.
To Davril, I said, “I know where we’re going tomorrow.”
“This is crazy,” Davril said as we flew through the lanes between buildings. He hunched behind the wheel of Lady Kay, his face stoic but just slightly brooding and judgmental. I was getting to know him well enough to read his expressions.
