“Fiora!” Lily squeaks, her smile lighting up the whole room. It’s been so tense in here; the sight of something so bright fills me with fresh air. “I’ll be right down. Thank you!”
She toes on her white silk house shoes while I bloom a lily from the center of my palm, plucking it and stopping her mad dash to the door. “Hold on. I want to make sure Fiora doesn’t think you haven’t been taken care of. She is your mother, after all. I’d like to make a good impression.”
“You’ve already met her,” she sniggers, stilling just long enough for me to pin the orange lily in her hair. A pink one would complement her lavender curls better, but the burst of orange feels more exuberant. More her.
“Yes, but this time I’m meeting her as your husband. It matters that she likes me.”
She leans up on her toes to peck my lips. “Who wouldn’t love you?”
It’s a true testament that neither of us turns to check on Salem’s state when she showers me with affection. We’ve come a long way in a day. We’ve got far to go, but our progress is reassuring, to say the least.
Salem straightens his military shirt and brushes his jeans as if that’ll make them look finer. The moment Lily steps into the hallway, he’s behind her, letting me take her arm but not allowing her out of his sight.
Des follows behind as we move down the steps to the receiving room toward the front of the palace and off to the side. It’s smaller, for less important guests the fae royalty don’t feel the need to impress. My father’s a jackass.
“When it’s my throne, we’ll move Fiora into the palace so we can look after her.”
Lily stops and turns to me. “Really? I mean, she probably will say no, but just you offering is... That means something.” She taps her heart. “Thank you.”
“Of course. She’s your mother. I would say let’s move her in now, but I’m not sure she’ll be comfortable with my parents. I can’t always intercept Father’s snide comments, and I wouldn’t want to put her through that. But if you like, just say the words and I’ll move her in today. She can stay right down the hall from us.”
She looks up at me like I’m the first man to pay her any kindness, which I know isn’t true. Even though the three of us go out of our way to spoil her regularly, we’re new introductions to her life. “You love me. That’s love.”
“Fiora can have a room in our mansion,” Salem volunteers.
Des nods. “Our castle as well.”
Though it’s clear Lily wants to see Fiora right this second, she takes the time to kiss each of our cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I love you so much.”
Though her love is directed at all three of us, it doesn’t feel less, like I’m only granted one-third of her affection. She wholly adores all three of us.
When we approach the receiving room, Father exits with his nose wrinkled. “That woman is insufferable. She claims to know how to defeat the Gorgonell, but won’t elaborate on a single detail. As if we haven’t exhausted every avenue.” When my eyebrows shoot toward the ceiling, he holds up his hands. “Have your conversations, then get that shifter out of here. One in our palace is more than enough.” He looks Salem up and down with a shiver of disgust, though Salem’s made it a point to start bathing daily while he’s got access to unlimited water, so he smells nice for Lily.
I stiffen. A slight on shifters is something I can’t keep quiet about anymore. “Enough, Father. Fiora can stay as long as she likes. I’m sure you have far more important things to do, like slapping the wrists of gruesome criminals.”
Father excuses himself with a grumble, unable to part from the controversy fast enough.
The moment we enter, Lily runs to Fiora, throwing her arms around the old woman’s neck and helping her to sit in the nearest chair. The housekeeper will have a fit about the dirty cloak touching the upholstered chair. Of course, that thought only drives me to set a footstool beneath Fiora’s feet, smirking that it’ll be dirtied as well. “Nice to see you, Fiora.”
“Now, now. I hear you’re to call me Mammy. Since I crossed into fae territory, it’s all anyone’s talking about. Ye married my bonnie lass, who’s already wed to the vampire prince. Well done, tricky fae.” She leans forward and grants me a toothless smile, pinching my cheek with filthy fingers. “Every now and then, the world needs to be turned on its head to shake out the useless junk. I trust you’re handling the chaos with a steadiness tha gives my Lily reassurance you’re worthy of her?”
I nod once. “I’m trying.” And I truly have been. Twice a day, I sneak out to get updates on the tenor of the people, and see what fires I’ll need to put out once Lily’s more settled. There’s much to be done, and I’m supposed to be on my honeymoon.
How am I supposed to enjoy my new bride with my two best friends hanging around and a territory on the verge of a huge change?
Her wrinkled mouth pulls to the side, her head tilting with compassion. “You’re worried. More than worried. You’re drowning.”
Damn that she can read me so well. “You think a fae prince will drown after a few licks? I’m sturdier than that.”
Her eyeless gaze holds mine, spearing through my stiff upper lip faster than the most skilled interrogator. I’ve barely been in the room a minute, and this woman already spots all my insecurities. I can’t take care of Lily well enough. The General’s not in prison. Every day, the grumbling against the throne and against my wife grows.
I step back and Fiora takes her time turning her chin in each of our directions, her sightless gaze lingering longest on Lily. “You’re fae,” she remarks. “Do ye look the part now?”
“White dress. White shoes. Ivorum hair clip.”
“Tha’s as it should be.”
Lily lowers her chin. “I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad one.”
I stiffen, hating every moment Lily’s forced to question her heritage, the great blood she’s part of.
Fiora chortles, easing my frustration. “It’s only a good thing if ye make it so. Magic is what ye make of it. My child, don’t ye know tha the fae need ye?”
Lily bands her arms around her middle. “I’m not sure they’re super happy about uniting themselves with the vampires.”
Fiora tsks her. “I’m not talking about tha. Unity is a dream tha will take years to come about. I’m talking about the need they have now. The miserable fate only ye can save them from. I heard much about it on the journey here. It’s why I’ve come.”
Lily’s eyebrow raises, and for the life of me, I’m not sure what Fiora’s getting at. “The fae have lots of challenges, Fiora. Which one is Lily suited for solving?”
She clucks her tongue at me. “Ye can call me your mammy now, not Fiora.”
The word has never tasted sweet on my tongue, but I give it a try anyway and see how it fits. “Very well, Mother.” Yeah, still weird. “We’re not in the habit of putting Lily in more danger, so what do you suggest?”
Her voice is grandmotherly and comes with a warble, which I find endearing. “How many citizens has the Gorgonell turned to stone?”
My spine straightens. “I believe the count is at two-hundred-twelve. None in the past few months. We’ve moved everyone who lived in the area to new land closer to Neutral Territory. It’s not ideal, but no further encounters with the Gorgonell have happened.”
“The creature comes out at dusk, aye?” Fiora rests her cane across her lap before unfolding her plan. “Then my vampire son won’t be part of this journey.” She holds up her hand at Des’ protest. “Lily’s work must be done in the daylight, as the Gorgonell comes out at dusk. I do not wish to put her life in jeopardy.”
“What work?” Lily asks, arms akimbo. “Of course I want to help the fae, but I have no idea how to turn someone back to life when they’re frozen to stone. That’s what it does, right?”
I nod. “The Stone Graveyard is where the Gorgonell lives. It’s a massive bull that’s fueled by magic gone wrong. It was meant to be a weapon we could use remotely, so
we wouldn’t have to send our troops into battle, but we were never able to control it. So the beast turned on us, freezing innocents to stone whenever they looked into its eyes.” I’m ashamed at the hubris of my people, but I make an effort not to brush our crimes under the rug. “We put up an iron gate to keep it hemmed in, but a lot of damage was already done. We can’t destroy it. We can’t save the fae who’ve already been turned to stone. The most we can do is contain the damage.”
Fiora reaches for Lily, holding tight to her daughter’s hand, though she addresses me. “Contain it and pretend it doesn’t exist? I think tha line of thinking should end with your da. Ye are my good lad, are ye not?”
“I’m certainly trying to be. I admit, I do not know how to defeat the Gorgonell, and I love Lily too much to let her near the creature.”
Her wrinkles gather at the corners of her mouth when she smiles. “Ah, but tha’s what Lilya was built for. Best not rob the world of her magic. It’s simple, really.”
Lily drops Fiora’s hand and crosses her arms over her chest. Her hip cocks to the side, and I can see the outline of her dagger, holstered beneath her dress. “Care to explain?”
“Aye. It’s no more complicated than drawing out someone’s disease or poison and taking it into your body. Then your system rids the world of the curse, as it’s meant to do.”
Lily’s eyes dart around, like she’s worried we’ll learn one of her secrets, but we already know she can do that. That’s how she healed Ronin when Prince Harris was poisoning him.
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “I mean, I didn’t guess her gift could be multi-purposed like this. But the magic that’s turned the civilians into stone is technically a curse. She can really draw that out?”
“It’s going to hurt her,” Salem protests. “When she took Ronin’s poison from him, her hair turned black and she was out of it for like, a day or two. If she takes the curse from the stone figures, will tha turn her to stone?”
Fiora fiddles with the edge of her knitted blue shawl. “King Ronin had months of poison built up in his system. His daily doses received for months took her only tha small window of time to expunge. The stone curse isn’t something tha keeps growing. It’s a one-time blast tha has a lasting effect. Her muscles might stiffen after a while, but she experiences a poison or a disease’s effect at a fraction of the potency the sufferer does. Then it’s gone. Perhaps she can’t heal all two-hundred-twelve fae in a day before she feels stiffness in her bones, but she can do much more than ye think.” She beams in Lily’s direction. “Though, tha’s always been true about my wee lass.”
Lily’s voice is steady, her mouth flattening in a tight line. “If I turn to stone after healing people for a while, then what?”
“I imagine it will wear off, just as every disease, curse and poison has worn off once your body figures out how to attack it. If ye feel your joints starting to stiffen, give your body time to clear out the defects. It always does.” Her mouth curves up at the corners, as if this conversation is the time for delight. “Perhaps ye haven’t found your place here yet, but I can see it clearly. The fae need to be set free from the evils they’ve created. Ye, my lass, have come into their lives for such a time as this.”
Lily bows her head, her hands clasping under her chin. When she finally speaks, my heart sinks. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Of course ye will. You’ve never been content to let anyone suffer without just cause.”
Salem’s chin moves from left to right over and over. “No. We’ll move the stone statues out of the area, and then she can try.” He shudders. “Come to think of it, no. If you’re wrong and she turns to stone after healing them, there might not be any coming back from tha. It’s too much guesswork. Too many assumptions tha life will all work out just fine because ye have a good feeling it probably will. No. She’s my mate, and I say no. I’m not letting her run headfirst off a cliff this steep.”
Fiora’s eyes widen. “What did ye say? She’s your…” Her head whips from Salem to Lily, so Des gives the succinct explanation of the phenomenon none of us thought possible.
“Curious. Very curious indeed. Do ye have physical proof?”
Salem stares up at the ceiling, his arms crossed over his chest. “One of my eyes is fae blue, and the other turned from light gray to dark, like a mated shifter.”
“Clouds! Are ye telling me the truth, lad?”
“Aye. I wouldn’t dare lie to Lily’s mammy.”
Fiora lowers her chin. “Lilya, how will this work?”
She addresses Lily only, and it’s clear she doesn’t want us to reassure her we won’t let things get out of hand. They’ve already spun too far out of our control as it is.
Lily wraps her hand around Salem’s forearm and Des’, and then connects her glance with mine to unite the four of us. “We’re working on it. I’m married to Des and Lexi, and I’m mated to Salem. We didn’t plan for that last part to happen, but it’s not exactly something that can be undone.”
“Indeed. Are ye prepared to spend your life with these lads? Because while marriages can be dissolved through much turmoil, mating is permanent.”
A flicker of worry slices through Lily’s confidence, but her chin raises after a beat of pause. “I’m certain this is what I want. They’re good men.”
Fiora smacks her lips for too long, calculating… I’m not sure what. She doesn’t say a word as she drums her fingers along the top of her thigh, her chin lingering in Salem’s direction as if she holds him most responsible. “Very well, lass. If this is your path, then ye must free your husband’s people. They’ve been captive too long, and their own king’s been powerless to save them. Go.”
Lily nods, and I can see the resolve that won’t be undone, no matter how many arguments we conjure up.
Salem doesn’t like being overruled. None of us is thrilled with the idea of possibly putting her in danger. But he falls in line with Lily’s decision, clearing his throat before turning away. “I’ll go pack our bags for the trek.” Then he pauses, as if his feet won’t let him leave unless he’s certain Lily’s alright. “Ye got her, Des? Alex?”
I take the empty spot on Lily’s side. “Of course, brother. If we only have the daylight to work, we should go as soon as we can.”
Though Lily converses easily with Fiora about our exchange of vows done in secret, her hand trembles on my arm. I run my tongue along my top row of teeth, wondering just how dangerous it is, this good we’re about to do that could go so very bad.
19
The Stone Graveyard
Lilya
I’m nervous, my stomach in a tight knot as Lexi shouts over his shoulder that the iron fence has come into view. I need to get better at riding. Carriages take too long for travel when we’ve got limited hours to accomplish all that needs to be done. Riding on horseback is the smartest thing to do, but I’m unpracticed, so I’ve spent the whole two-hour-long ride worried I’m about to bounce off the back end.
In case it’s been undersold, let it be known that horses are tall.
My fingernails dig into Salem’s taut abdomen, but he hasn’t complained once. I don’t like that the four of us have split up, but there’s no getting around daylight, and none of us are willing to risk Des’ safety in a carriage all day long when we don’t know how dangerous this is going to turn out to be.
When our horse slows to a trot, Salem rubs his massive palm across the backs of my hands. “Easy, Mate. We’re here.” His words come out sweet and gentle, but his body is tight and on high alert. “I’ve heard of the Stone Graveyard, but I’ve not seen it since the first wave of fae were turned. There are so many.”
Lexi hops off his horse, guiding it by the reins as he walks over to us, reaching up his arms to help me down. “Two-hundred-twelve affected fae is just a number. Until you see it all, it doesn’t feel real. I’ve got a few friends in here, and none of them deserved this.”
A gasp fills my lungs at the sight I’m unprepared for, though I’ve kn
own this was what we were coming to see. It’s different up close. We slow to a trot as we near the formidable-looking iron fence, which stretches two stories into the air, warning every fae that danger lurks inside. There are massive rings of barbed wire strung across the top, making it impossible for the beast to escape. The space between each iron post isn’t more than four inches. “People can still make eye contact with the monster through the gaps in the posts. Why aren’t they closer together?” I wonder aloud.
No one answers me, which is a worry. Did no one think of that? Or did they just not care enough to do the job correctly? I can’t decide which one is worse.
A distance beyond the fence is a stretch of house-lined land with stone statues. It looks like it was a neighborhood, once upon a better time, and now it’s remnants of something that used to be. Something that should be, and possibly still could be.
Lexi leads us to the gate and unlocks it with a key from his belt. With how little resistance Lexi received when he mentioned he was going to show me the Stone Graveyard, I think his father was more than happy to get rid of us for the day.
One step inside feels like I’m walking on hallowed ground. The air is still, our bodies disturbing a silence not even the birds will break. There are no songs here. It’s not even midday, but the sun looks dreary, almost perplexed that it should shine here, on the terrified faces of men, women and children who are frozen in various stages of panic and pleading.
Tears well in my eyes. Though I haven’t felt aligned with my fae heritage in so very long, I am part of these people. Their pain is mine. Their fear rises and screams, even though their mouths make no sound. They were silenced because a few madmen thought they could win wars without getting their hands dirty. They wanted control, not peace. And now they have neither.
Salem’s hand on my back is reassuring. That happens every time I get worked up about anything. He gives me a steadying touch to remind me that we’re connected, that life’s nightmares won’t be endured alone.
Wicked Prince: Book Two in the Territorial Mates Series Page 13
