Court of Dreams

by Crawford, C. N.

  She finally stopped hula-hooping, letting the plastic ring drop to the floor. “Where’s the guy you were with? The big demi-fae shadow demon? I saw him in the scrying mirror.”

  “Here.” Ruadan chose that moment to appear, his eyes obsidian black, muscles tensed.

  “Holy crap.” Her pupils dilated for a moment, chest flushing so fast it was nearly imperceptible. Then, her gaze shuttered, and her lip curled in a sneer. She actually snarled at him like a wild animal.

  I stepped in front of him protectively. “You can’t have his heart. It’s staying in his chest.”

  “He’s a heartbreaker.” She looked rattled, and she crossed behind the counter. “Do you know that?”

  “We have been over that. So, back to the task at hand—how did you know I was Adonis’s daughter?”

  “You look like him. He’s an old friend.” She looked the same age as me, but she was obviously much older.

  “I’m looking for him,” I said, still giving away as little as I could. “Do you know anything?”

  She touched the locket around her neck again. “I’m not real good with men, you know?”

  I glanced at the dried hearts. “Is that so?”

  “Most men are selfish, abusive, murderous assholes. Adonis was different. I mean, sure, he was the Horseman of Death.” Another pink bubble popped. “But he didn’t mean to kill people. He actually cared about people. He saved my life, once. And after that, we stayed friends. He actually listened to me. Sometimes it was really trivial shit. ‘Oh, I had a hard time breaking a bone demon’s ribs to get his heart out today.’ Other times it was, like, existential dread. You know? Anyway, he’s a good listener.”

  “Right. I remember. Vaguely.” My instincts told me she was telling the truth.

  “When the apocalypse started kicking off and all the other horsemen showed up,” she went on, “I started to get worried about him. That’s why he gave me this locket.” She opened it up, but the glass inside appeared murky. “I could see him in it, just to make sure he was okay. That way, I’d know his curse hadn’t taken effect, and I’d check on him when he was in Eden—just little glimpses of him. But a couple of weeks ago, he just disappeared from my locket. I don’t know what happened to him.”

  My stomach fell. “How could he be gone? The worlds have been closed. He was locked in Eden. Only someone with a World Key can open the worlds. Baleros doesn’t have a World Key.”

  “Baleros?”

  “The man who’s been spreading disease,” I replied. “Rotten to the core. A festering sore on London’s arse. He’s—”

  Ruadan touched my arm. “She gets the idea.”

  I inhaled deeply through my nose. “He’s a bad man. Former slave master and would-be tyrant. He’s after the World Key on Ruadan’s chest. He spread plague to the knights of the Institute using the Unholy Grail. Now we need my dad to help cure them.”

  She cocked her head. “If you’re his daughter, you must have some of his powers.”

  I nodded. “Right, but they kill people. Anyway, how could my father disappear from a locked world? He had no way out.”

  “I’m sure he’s still there,” she said. “But something happened to him to make him ... unseeable. I have no idea what.” She leaned over the counter, her eyes suddenly intense, and she gripped my arms. “He can’t die, can he? He once told me he can’t die. Unless your mom kills him.”

  I bit my lip. “I doubt she did that.”

  She pointed at Ruadan. “He’s a seneschal from the Institute. He has a World Key. Why can’t he get you into Eden?”

  “We did go, and we found no one. Just graves. But I’m pretty sure it was glamoured,” I said. “It was like a facade. There was just one tiny detail that was different. And under that detail, I found the note to come find you.”

  She nodded slowly. “Ah. Good. Well, I can help you get through glamour. That’s probably why he sent you to me. I’m desperate to know where your dad is, and I’ve been wanting to strike a deal with the Shadow Fae.”

  “Good.” Ruadan’s icy presence filled the room. “That’s settled. We’ll go now.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You know it’s after midnight, right? I mean, I’m a night owl, but why does this need to happen right now?”

  I leaned on the countertop, urgency tensing my muscles. I stared into her dark eyes. “It needs to happen right now, Aenor, because there’s a plague spreading in the city of London. The person who is causing all this wants to take over the world with an army full of demons. And the knights of the Institute have to stop him. Except they’ve got the Plague, and they’re about to die.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I’m not really a fan of the Institute, is the thing. I used to have a shop above ground like a normal heart-selling fae. Since the Institute took control, I’ve literally had to go underground. I live in constant fear that one of you will kill me. I’m not saying I want them to die, but….” She shrugged.

  Ruadan’s dark magic thickened. “You said you wanted something from the Shadow Fae in return for your help. Is that what you’re building up to?”

  She blew a strand of pale blue hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. I want protection. If I help you, I want to live freely in London. I don’t want any Shadow Fae stabbing me with iron just because I’m not in a locked realm like a good little girl.”

  “Agreed,” said Ruadan. “But you know that if the current knights die, they’ll be replaced by new knights. And those knights won’t honor this agreement. So we need Adonis to heal them now.”

  She smacked her hand on the countertop. “Then I guess we’d better find him.” Without taking her eyes off me, she bellowed, “Cora! Get your butt out here. We’ve got some witchery to do.”

  A minute later, a girl with peach-colored hair stumbled into the room through a beaded curtain, rubbing her eyes. Like Aenor, tattoos covered her pale skin. “Are you kidding me, Aenor? This had better be important. In my dream, I was just about to kiss this super hot incubus. I think he was a demigod—” She blinked, staring at Ruadan, then me. “Who are these people?”

  Aenor pointed at Ruadan. “Well, he’s an incubus, for one thing. And I think possibly a demigod.”

  Cora stared at him. “I was just joking. I hate incubi. I mean, I find you repulsive.” Then she looked away, muttering something that sounded like, “Too much.”

  “He has a World Key,” added Aenor. “And he is promising us amnesty from the Shadow Fae in return for our help.”

  “The both of you, then,” said Ruadan.

  Aenor straightened. “The both of us require amnesty. Permanently.”

  “Fine.”

  Cora was staring at his chest, where the World Key glowed. “Bloody hells.” She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Just so I’m clear, we don’t need to attack the Shadow Fae?”

  “No.” Aenor drummed her fingernails on the countertop. “I know her dad. They need our help.”

  “At this hour?” said Cora. “Why?”

  I met her gaze. “At the risk of sounding dramatic, you’re going to help us save the world.”

  “And more importantly,” added Aenor, “that whole bit about amnesty.”

  Cora heaved a sigh. “Fine. What do we need to do?”

  Aenor turned away from the counter. “We need to travel to another world and disintegrate its magical defenses. Let’s get our things together, shall we?”

  Chapter 20

  It was only a few more minutes before we were deep in the watery portal, swimming our way to the surface.

  I climbed out of the portal, then whirled around to help Aenor and Cora out. I gripped their arms, hauling them up. Both of them had their own bug-out bags now, full of their own witchy stuff. Probably waterlogged hearts of men.

  Aenor dropped her sodden bag on the earth, catching her breath, and Cora hunched over with her hands on her knees as she recovered.

  Ruadan called up a ball of silver light that illuminated the clearing a bit more. While the two witche
s caught their breath, I surveyed the woods around me.

  It looked so much like the home I remembered. Moonlight streamed between the leaves, and the wind rushed over groaning boughs of ancient oaks. To my left, outside the wood’s edge, were the village homes, silent and still as graves.

  I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering. I knew the desolation of this landscape was just an illusion, but the forest’s quiet felt wrong. The only sound here was the low song of the wind through the trees. It was like I was standing in the hollow carapace of my former home.

  I glanced at Aenor, who’d started pulling things out of her witch bag to lay on the moss. So far, she’d yanked out a demon heart, a few bones, wax candles, a jar of salt, and a few jars of herbs.

  “Can I help?” I asked.

  “No,” said Aenor. “Just stay out of the way while Cora collects a crow.”

  I glanced at Cora, who was making a cooing sound, holding her hands up to the tree branches. I stared as a dark bird fluttered onto her finger. Cora held onto its body, whispering into its ear. The crow’s eyes closed as it relaxed. Then, she released the bird above us. It flapped over our heads, the sound of its wings oddly loud.

  As she did that, Aenor poured the salt in a circle around us, muttering quietly in Angelic. She placed four candles in the center of the circle, then snapped her fingers to light the candles.

  Aenor looked at me and curled a finger to beckon me to her. “Everyone come closer. Join hands with us.”

  “We need all the power we can get,” added Cora.

  Aenor’s blue hair—and mine, too—wafted in the air. The hair on the back of my arms was also standing on end as the air charged with magic.

  Cora’s peach hair snaked around her head as if she were underwater. She closed her eyes. “This glamour is powerful. Can you feel it?”

  Ruadan stepped into the circle of magic, his pale hair lifting in the breeze. He traced his finger through the air, leaving a trail of dark magic that glimmered faintly. “It’s not just fae magic. There’s night magic here, too.”

  What on earth? “How? Neither of my parents could use night magic. We had no night demons in Eden. Are you sure?”

  He shot me a sharp look, which I quickly interpreted as I am a demigod of the night; do not question my knowledge of night magic.

  Aenor held out her hands to either side. “I guess we’ll find out when we break through the glamour.”

  My entire body felt taut as a bowstring, buzzing with tension. Nothing about this seemed right—the night magic, my father’s mysterious disappearance from Aenor’s locket. I couldn’t escape the feeling that something terrible had happened.

  “Hang on,” said Cora, pulling her hands away from the circle. “I was a little sleepy before, but now that the ice water portal has woken me up, please explain again why we’re about to open a world with the Horseman of Death in it. Is it just me, or is a Horseman of Death someone you’re better off leaving alone?”

  I glared at her. “It’s just you. He’s not dangerous.”

  “Explain,” she shot back.

  “Okay,” I said. “The horsemen were all born with a curse. It was an Angelic spell known as a seal. If the seals were opened, the horsemen turned evil. If my father’s seal had opened, he would have carried out his true purpose—to kill nearly everyone on earth using his death magic. But his seal was never opened. The curse never took effect.”

  “Liora’s mother took the spell off him completely,” added Aenor. “She used her magic to do it. She had some kind of insanely powerful fae magic at her fingertips. And that’s why we’re going to need all the power we can get to break through the magical protections she put up.”

  “Okay.” Cora held out her hands to either side, signaling that we were supposed to start.

  I grasped Cora’s hand in one of mine, and Ruadan’s in the other.

  “Wait.” Cora jerked her hand away, and she stared at Aenor. “You said he disappeared from your locket, right? What if he changed? Maybe the curse took hold after all. Don’t you know the prophecy of the gods?” Her hair whipped wildly around her head, and a ferocious wind rushed through the forest. “I looked, and behold, an ashen horse.” Leaves blew off the tree branches, rushing around us in a vortex. “And he who rode it had the name Death, and Hell followed him.”

  As she spoke, my skin went cold, and my shoulder blades ached to release their wings.

  “We get the idea, Cora,” said Aenor.

  But Cora wasn’t finished. She closed her eyes. “And power was given to them—to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.”

  I felt like my soul was rising from the grave. As she spoke, I felt overwhelmed by the urge to unleash death all over the world, followed by the urge to dull my rage with whiskey. But I was fresh out. My gaze flicked to the moon. Red tinged its surface, as if thick blood were spilling across its surface. Then, the illusion disappeared again.

  “Why are you quoting this ancient prophecy?” Ruadan’s eyes had darkened, the temperature chilling around us.

  Death magic still whispered over my skin. As I walk the earth, grass and wheat turns to ash before me….

  “Because the prophecy hasn’t yet come to pass,” said Cora. “But it will. The gods always make good on their prophecies. And they always have their way. We’re just their pawns.”

  Nyxobas’s words knelled in my mind: Ruadan dies at the end of all this.

  “Bollocks,” I said. “Gods’ prophecies are a load of shite. They don’t always come true.” I had nothing logical or factual to back up my argument—just my own iron will.

  Cora made a sign warding off blasphemy.

  “We don’t have time for a theological argument right now,” said Ruadan. “You have heard about the Plague spreading, right? It has spread beyond the Tower walls, and it will get worse. If the Institute falls, and if Baleros gets his hands on the World Key, he will conscript armies of demons to serve him. Then, death will truly stalk the earth.”

  “That’s the thing about prophecies,” I said. “They’re vague. Could be anything. We still have free will.” Despite my rising fears, I tried to be logical. “Are you going to help us or not?”

  “She’ll help us,” Aenor said, cutting in. “She’s a religious nut, but she mostly just wants the opportunity to say ‘I told you so’ if she happens to be right.”

  “Opportunity granted,” I said testily. “Let’s begin.”

  We held hands once more. Cora and Aenor began chanting. Above our heads, the crow cawed loudly, flapping its wings. The candle flames rose higher, casting wavering golden light over the oak grove.

  The prophecy Cora quoted rang in my mind. Hell followed him….

  Around us, magic whipped along with the breeze, rushing and tingling over my skin. Ruadan’s energy blended with the spell’s magic, and his power felt cold and silky on my body.

  I am the dark rot that starts in your fingertips….

  Above us, the crow cawed, and the winds picked up, blowing fallen leaves in a vortex around us. The candle flames rose to the height of our chests now. Something had to be working. At any moment, I could be rushing into the real Eden, embracing my parents.

  A powerful magic erupted around us. Then, I stared as the world around us shimmered and the glamour fell away. A few lights burned in the village windows. Home.

  My heart leapt, cheeks warming. “We’re here,” I whispered.

  I pulled away from the circle, taking a step toward the village.

  “Be cautious, Liora,” said Ruadan.

  It was like I felt his voice inside me instead of hearing it out loud, and I paused to turn back to him. His eyes were on me, his warm protectiveness washing over me. He looked at me like he’d been cursed and I was his salvation. He was right. How could I have ever doubted him?

  I turned away from him, heading back to my old home. I broke into a run once more, tearing down the path for my house. Warm lights beamed from windows onto the
dirt roads. My feet pounded over the ground, and I sprinted past the crooked homes, the temple, the grassy common—beautifully, wonderfully free from grave markers, not a stone in sight.

  Then, I careened toward my old home, where a light burned in the kitchen window.

  Mum. Dad….

  I screeched to a halt before their door, jolted by the awareness that barging into their home might alarm them.

  I caught my breath, and my heart slammed against my ribs. Then, I knocked gently on the door. When there was no answer after a few moments, I rapped again, a little louder. Silence greeted me.

  I turned, looking across the town green, where I could see the witches walking cautiously.

  I shifted to the window, cupping my hands to peer inside. Light burned in a lantern, and a few plates were set out in the kitchen. Signs of life. Where were my parents, though?

  I couldn’t wait any longer, and I decided to try the door. My parents never locked the house. Why would they? We knew everyone in Eden.

  I turned the knob, and the door creaked open.

  Lanterns, lit with oil, hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in gold. I rushed over to the fireplace, where I found the word Bug engraved, just as it should be. I ran my fingertips over it, unable to control the shaking.

  “Dad?” I called out, my voice catching.

  More silence greeted me.

  I took in the space around me, trying to rein in my wild emotions.

  Our living room was combined with the kitchen—a stove and fireplace on one side, sofas and a rug on the other. A hall at the back led to the bedrooms and the library and bath upstairs. They could be upstairs, I supposed.

  “Dad?” I asked again, quietly. Apprehension danced up my spine. Something was wrong here, and it took me a few moments to figure out what it was.

  Why had my parents left the lanterns on at this hour? It was the middle of the night, and they didn’t leave them on when they were upstairs sleeping.

  I sniffed the air. The room smelled musty. No, worse than musty. It smelled rotten.

  My heart skipped a beat. Something was definitely wrong in Eden.