by Rye Brewer
Gregor’s face turned stony, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. I knew that look all too well, just as I recognized the puffing out of his chest and the color which rose to prominence in his cheeks. He was preparing to burst.
I stepped in front of Allonic, hands extended. “Gregor, please. Think before you speak. He meant no harm.”
“Do not tell me how to react,” he bellowed, his chest heaving as I had known it would. He pushed away my hands—a gesture which surprised me—and lunged for Allonic. Only Jonah’s vampire-quick reflexes kept him from attacking.
“Gregor, he did not do this intentionally,” Jonah said as he held Gregor back. “And it was Valerius who killed Tabitha. Not Allonic. We cannot blame Allonic for the actions of another.”
“I can, and I will,” Gregor insisted, all but shooting daggers from his eyes as he glared at Allonic. “It was his selfishness, his stupidity, when his mother sacrificed everything to stay near him and ensure his safety!”
“Please,” Anissa whispered, still weeping. She went to Gregor, rested her head upon his shoulder. “Please. Don’t do this. I miss her, too. I needed her. But it’s Valerius who killed her. Not Allonic. He never would have done anything to hurt Mom.”
If there was one thing I had ever been able to give Gregor credit for, it was his reasoning skills. Even when he was wrong—even when he was furious—when a compelling argument was presented, he was not so bullheaded as to refuse to listen.
He appeared to crumble under the weight of the truth. It was not Allonic he should wish to kill for his transgression. He fell back a step, his arms dropping down by his side.
“We had a second chance,” he choked, his flushed cheeks draining of color. “We were going to be together again. As we were meant to be.”
Anissa’s tears soaked into his robes. “I’m so sorry.”
“She and the child she bore me are the only two truly good, pure things in my life.” He bowed his head, shoulders shaking.
Anissa did what she could to comfort him, the two of them leaning on each other.
I looked up at Allonic, who watched his sister with what I could only describe as heartbreak all over his face, in his eyes. I’d never seen him so emotional, not even while he was confessing to me back in ShadesRealm. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
He turned away, most likely because he couldn’t bear watching any longer, and sank into a chair by the fire. I went to him, wishing with all my might that I could be of help. He was careful to keep his face averted, staring into the flames rather than risk witnessing the anguish he had helped cause.
Jonah approached, standing to the side, giving Allonic his space. “I want you to know that Valerius is dead.”
“What?” Allonic’s voice blended with mine as we simultaneously expressed our surprise.
“Back at our high-rise,” he explained, speaking more to Allonic than to me. “A necromancer and caster took him from Vance’s body and returned him to his own. Then the necromancer killed him. He’s gone forever now. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
Allonic drew a deep breath.
I touched his shoulder, doing whatever I could to remind him I was with him.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied in a voice thick with emotion. He trembled beneath my hand. “Though I had hoped to be the one to do it myself.”
“I’m sure you did,” was Jonah’s grim reply. “After what he did, such a quick death was too good for him. He ought to have suffered, as so many suffered because of his evil deeds.”
“It is better that he is no longer a threat,” Allonic decided. “Thank you for telling me. I cannot apologize enough for taking him from the dungeon.”
“No need to punish yourself,” Jonah assured him. “You’ve suffered enough, thanks to his evil. There is only so long a man can punish himself for the actions of others.”
“He’s right,” I murmured.
I hoped he would hear, truly hear, and listen. Perhaps he would one day, soon, but it was clear to me he was still in need of time. Grief as deep as his, and Gregor’s and Anissa’s, wasn’t the type of thing that could be extinguished like the flame on a candle.
Would that it were. I would gladly extinguish it for them.
3
Anissa
“Let’s take a walk,” I suggested once we had both calmed down somewhat.
I had never seen my father break down, though he hadn’t exactly been around for most of my life. Perhaps he’d broken down regularly in the years we’d spent apart. It might have been more the norm than the exception for him to show strong emotion.
Even so, I supposed it was never easy for a daughter to see her father lose control. And he had lost control, most certainly. I would have been surprised and deeply concerned if he hadn’t. Only those in deep denial did not display emotion at a time like this.
Or those with something missing deep inside. I couldn’t imagine Marcus Carver or Lucian expressing grief. Or Valerius.
Jonah nodded, understanding. He would wait for our return.
I’d never paid much mind to the energy or mood around Avellane. It had been something to take for granted, I supposed. I had never given it a moment’s thought.
It had been a pleasant place. The fae had gone about their business cheerfully, purposefully, helping each other with smiles on their faces. Why not smile when the world was such a beautiful place? And it was beautiful, heartbreakingly so. Rich in resources, lush with greenery, I would be hard-pressed to imagine another realm so close to the concept of paradise.
At one time. In the past.
It was no matter that the shades had retreated without doing what might be considered egregious damage. That they had stopped at a handful of deaths. They’d done at least as much damage to the hearts and minds of the fae as they would have if they’d slaughtered ten times as many or set fire to the city of trees.
There was no longer a sparkle in the air—I hadn’t noticed the sparkle, either, until later. I hadn’t noticed so many things, and there was no telling if the past could ever be rebuilt.
Something had been extinguished.
Gregor felt it, too, I could tell, and the pain which had already touched his face only deepened.
“So much loss,” he murmured, shaking his head.
Even the sunlight, which normally made his hair gleam platinum, seemed dimmer than usual.
“You will not be alone in this fight,” I whispered, hoping with everything in me that I was telling the truth.
He was silent for a long time as we walked along the bridges which connected the trees. The silence was heavy, but I was not in a rush to fill it.
“There will be a war.” His voice was firm.
There was no question to it. He was certain, as I was.
“Yes. I believe there will be,” I murmured.
We came to a stop in the center of a bridge, one which gave us a view over much of Avellane. The Hermitage gleamed in the distance, as always, a sort of beacon in the middle of endless stretches of green.
He maintained focus on its jeweled dome as he spoke. “When it’s over, I plan to renounce my throne.”
The announcement, made so quietly and simply, all but knocked me over. “You’ll what? Why? That sounds…”
“Extreme?” he asked with a bit of dry humor.
I was going to tell him it sounded crazy, but his guess was more likely what I should have said. “Yes. Are you allowed to simply step down, just because you want to?”
“I’m king. I can do whatever I wish.”
Fair enough. “Is it because of…?” I couldn’t bring myself to mention Tabitha.
“There are many reasons why I no longer feel I’m up to the task of performing my duties as king of the fae, but it would be a lie if I said my decision had nothing to do with recent events.”
“Where will you live? Here in Avellane?” There was truly no other option for one of the fae, though he had managed to pass as human while he was involved with my
mother. They had explored Manhattan together without having alerted anyone to their otherness.
“I had hoped to take refuge with the Knights at Messimer.”
I blinked, waiting for more. When I did not receive further information, I asked, “What does that mean? Who are the Knights at Messimer?”
“An ancient, holy order. Protectors. Historically, only called upon to serve in the direst of circumstances. When most needed. The members of the order are a secret to nearly everyone—in fact, new members are only aware of the identities of other members when they are called upon to go to battle. They might live among their brethren and never know. Even their loved ones, those closest to them, are not permitted to know their affiliation with the order.”
“If their loved ones are kept in the dark as to their affiliation, it sounds as though they live normal lives,” I interjected, trying to piece things together on the spot. “Yet you say you plan to take refuge with them. How would such a thing be possible?”
“There is a fortress where the oldest members of the order, those who long ago eschewed family and home life in favor of the vows they took, make their home,” he explained. “It is on an island separate, but not far from, Avellane, in a small realm which exists outside the knowledge of nearly everyone. Protected by multiple layers of protective spells performed by a mage who also lives within the fortress. It is these elder members who determine the identities of future Knights, and who determine which situations are worthy of the Knights’ protection.”
“It all sounds very secretive and overwhelming,” I observed. “Why would you take refuge within their fortress? And would they even have you, since they’re such an exclusive bunch?”
He frowned. “I’ve always given you credit for your intelligence, yet you seem to fall short on this.”
“Considering I’ve never heard any of this before and am only just learning of its existence now, I think I’m doing a fair job of keeping up.” Then, it occurred to me. “You have to live there, don’t you? Because you know of their existence and they can’t risk allowing you to live elsewhere.”
He nodded. “It’s hardly a jail sentence.”
“I never said it was.”
“No, but the tone of your voice always gives you away.”
I had to smile. “It sounds a little grim, is all. Having no choice but to live there because you know something that’s supposed to be a secret, and oh, am I allowed to know about this?” Living in a fortress, away from Jonah and Elena, that was not in my plans.
“They don’t have to know you know,” he assured me with a pat on the back of my hand. “But you are my daughter, and you deserve to know where I’ll be once I step down.”
His daughter. The reminder brought something else to mind. “Who… who will rule the fae in your place?” I held my breath and waited for his reply.
He turned to me with a wistful smile, sighing. “I’m sorry to say it, but I’ve come to realize that with your mixed heritage, there is no chance of you taking the throne in my place. Your presence as the sole ruler would divide the fae, and it would be irresponsible of me to place that burden upon you.”
I wanted to hug him. “Oh, please, don’t get me wrong! I don’t want anything to do with ruling!” I laughed, one hand over my heart. “I was terrified, honestly.”
He laughed with me, and the sound warmed me as nothing else could. “I wondered if you would be disappointed, though I thought you’d mentioned not wanting it. Minds change, sometimes.”
“Believe me, I respect what you’ve done here. I have nothing but the utmost respect for a king who does his best in the name of his people. I just don’t believe I’m suited to that level of responsibility.”
“You are, but I understand. As it is, I don’t wish to leave the kingdom of Avellane a monarchy. Frankly, I cannot think of another single individual who could take on the task and make good.” He began walking back across the bridge. “An Assembly would better suit the needs of the fae, and better weigh the many needs of the fae, as well. From a wide range of backgrounds, experiences. All should have a voice.”
I followed him over the bridge. “I agree.”
“I want you to be part of the Assembly,” he suddenly announced. It was not a question, not a request. He was back to behaving like the Gregor I knew. “I believe you would lend a truly leveling voice to the others. Perhaps encourage equality of thought.”
That was worth thinking about, I supposed. Though I wasn’t certain whether I’d have the time or the ability to serve. Even so, the least I could do was play along for the time being. Whatever made him happy.
“As long as you’re sure the others would accept me as a member. Didn’t you just finish telling me I couldn’t rule because of my mixed blood?”
“A seat on the Assembly would be different,” he replied. “Yours would be one voice of several, rather than the only voice.”
“I see.”
We had returned to Gregor’s chambers, where everyone waited for us. Allonic seemed better than he had when we left, not his usual self, still stricken, but no longer on the verge of falling apart.
Gregor pulled me aside before I went to Jonah. “One more thing I wanted to discuss with you. Your wedding.”
Of course. Allonic’s confession had distracted me from the reason I had visited to begin with. “Yes. I wanted to talk with you about it, too. I don’t think I can go through with a big, lavish wedding right now.”
The relief on his face told me I’d made the right decision. He appeared about as glad as I had felt when he told me I didn’t have to rule in his place.
“Perhaps this is for the best,” he replied, nodding. “After the attack…”
“Yes, absolutely.” Throwing a celebration would more than likely look like a slap in the face to all who had lost loved ones—and all who lived in fear as a result, which undoubtedly meant everyone in Avellane. “You don’t need to say another word. I understand.”
“There is one favor you might do for me.” And this, he said with a smile.
“What’s that?”
“Allow me to officiate. I need to feel as though I’ve given you something.”
I took his hands. “You’ve already given me so much.”
From behind us, Jonah cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I hate to interrupt, but I believe we have more to discuss. Namely, what’s coming with the shades.” He looked and sounded uncomfortable.
I could understand why. It wasn’t a pleasant subject.
Then again, Gregor was king. It was his job. “Yes. If there is anything you think we should discuss, I would be glad to hear your thoughts.”
As would I. What could Jonah possibly have to say about a war which didn’t involve vampires?
Jonah glanced my way before speaking again. “I wanted to let you know I have a few ideas for how I might be of service, though I need to think them through. I wouldn’t want to speak out of turn or promise something I can’t follow through on.”
Gregor sputtered in surprise. “I would never ask you to place you or your kind in jeopardy on our account. I hope you feel no obligation because of your connection to my daughter.”
“No, it isn’t that I feel I’m under obligation. It’s that I believe an offer of assistance to be the right thing. The only thing to do, really.”
Two very proud men stared at each other, sizing the other up. Pride swelled in my chest at the thought of Jonah helping my father and his realm defend itself against the shades. Such an action would help unite the vampires and the fae, too.
If the vampires agreed to it.
Which was what I knew Jonah needed to settle before any promises were made.
Gregor finally nodded once he knew he was outmatched; I would never let him get away with refusing. “If you feel you can manage it, I would of course welcome any assistance.”
“And I’ll be sure to keep you up-to-date on what I find,” Jonah promised, then turned to me. “We would do well to get back, so I can see
about putting plans into place.”
“I won’t keep you.” Gregor favored us both with a confident nod before stepping away to check with Felicity.
It was good to see her comforting Allonic. He wouldn’t have to go through whatever he was suffering alone. I saw the love in her eyes, plain as anything.
My brother could do far worse than Felicity. I only wished I didn’t feel like I was deserting my father.
Jonah tugged my hand. “I’m sorry. I know you want to stay, but…”
“No, I understand.”
One more look at the three of them, gathered by the fire, before I followed Jonah outside. There were many conflicting forces in my life, pulling me in all directions, but Jonah was always the priority. He had to be.
“I really didn’t want to pull you away,” he murmured as we hurried to the entrance—or, rather, the exit which would lead to the human world. “But I can’t sit on this idea for long. We can’t afford to wait.”
“What are you thinking of doing?” I asked, nearly jogging to keep up with his brisk pace.
“I’m going to call a meeting of the League. Immediately.”
“The League? What do you intend to tell them?”
“Truly?” He snorted, shaking his head with a grim smile as we continued cutting a path through the tall, waving grass. “I’m not entirely sure yet.”
“Jonah, you can’t call a meeting without knowing what you intend to propose.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.”
“So?” I stopped. “Please, talk to me. I don’t want to be the last to know. And I would like to prepare myself for what might happen.” If there was one thing I hated after everything I’d been through, it was the sense of unpreparedness. Never sure what might happen next.
He finally stopped when it became clear that I wasn’t joking, turning to me with a frown. “I’m going to tell them about the impending war. I need to be careful while I do it, is all. Very careful. The last thing we need is a war within the species.”
