by K. M. Shea
I knew from experience Dusk and Dawn would have already been at work for hours, so the night mares were fed and their stalls were clean.
The siblings were actually in the open area at the front of the stable by the tack room. They were feeding the four glooms and seven shades that had elected to stay here.
“Queen Leila!” Dawn said. She and Dusk bowed, carefully balancing the bags of cat and dog kibble they were holding.
When they both glanced at Rigel, they each simultaneously dropped leaves from their hair.
I have such cute employees.
“Good morning, Dusk, good morning Dawn. We’re going to go in by the night mares. Let us know if we get in your way, okay?”
“Y-yes Queen Leila.”
The glooms and shades wandered up to me. I stopped long enough to give everyone a pet before Rigel and I stepped into the stall area.
“Hello, my beauties!” I called.
A variety of screams—the night mares—a hee-haw—that was Bagel—and a polite nicker—Fax, the sun stallion—greeted us.
I led Rigel to Bagel’s stall. The stall door was so high the little donkey could only get his chin up on the edge. “Are you going to do the bubble thing again?”
I jumped when I noticed he had a dagger in his hand, then relaxed when the sound bubble grew around us and he put the weapon away. “Talk.”
I shrugged. “It’s mostly what I told the Paragon. You don’t have any political ties—which is what I wanted. Well—what I would have preferred would be to not get married at all. But since that’s not an option, I wanted the fae version of a rock—someone who wouldn’t affect my plans or give me extra junk to deal with. You’re the only one like that.”
Lord Rigel blinked. “There’s more to it than that.”
“There is?” I frowned. “I hadn’t really thought of more than that. I mean, you know my goal is to crush this competition for power and end it.”
Lord Rigel watched me with narrowed eyes. “Do you think you can order me to eliminate your enemies if you marry me?”
I’d been reaching over the stall door to pet Bagel so he didn’t have to strain his little neck trying to reach me, but at this suggestion I thumped my hand into the stall door with enough strength to make my knuckles sting. “What?”
“I am an assassin. You may believe that the fastest way to end this all is to eliminate the most powerful players.”
“What? No!” Taken aback, I leaned against the stall door and properly looked up at him. “First of all, killing everyone would just mean a new crop of power-hungry fae would pop in. Secondly, I don’t kill people!” I scowled at him.
“Then I don’t think you’re ever going to achieve your goal,” Lord Rigel bluntly said.
“No, when I say I want to crush this game I mean end the stupid competitions! Not become a power-hungry tyrant and make everyone do what I want!” I slapped my hands to my eyes—I’m sure badly smearing my makeup. “I’m doomed,” I muttered. “This stupid game is so entrenched into fae culture they can’t even fathom any other way!”
“I more meant that someone will murder you before you can achieve this utopia you desire if you wish to abstain from killing.”
I shivered. “Whatever, it’s fine. The point is, no, I never will ask you to kill anyone for me! Got it?”
He flashed his dark eyes at me—and I had to admit when he wasn’t being purposely creepy, Lord Rigel was possibly one of the best looking supernaturals I had ever met.
If she gets the courage, Indigo is going to have fun dressing him up.
“Then you intend to use my name to threaten the Court.”
“Possibly?” I squinted up at him. “But probably not in the way you think. Like, I’m not going to tell people if they don’t agree with me you’re going to off them, if that’s what you mean.”
“In what other way could you use my name?”
“Hmm.” I thought for a moment, then snapped my fingers. “I’ve got a good example! If an annoying noble keeps yacking my ear off, I can tell them they’re fascinating and that I should call you over to hear what they have to say. I’m pretty sure that would make them run off.”
Lord Rigel stared at me.
“Oh! Or if someone is complaining about a change I’m making, I’ll tell them they’ll need to convince you it’s the wrong thing to do.” I clapped my hands in glee. “Or when the chef tells me he’ll only let a coffee machine in the kitchen over his dead body I’ll tell him you like coffee, too!”
“I only drink tea.”
“Please, Lord Rigel. I’m having a moment. Just give me this fantasy.”
One of Lord Rigel’s silver eyebrows might have moved the tiniest bit. “In other words, you intend to use my presence as an intimidation factor to pull yourself from unwanted interactions.”
“Yeah, pretty much. Would that be okay?”
He shrugged. “If someone attacks you in their anger, I’m not going to defend you.”
“No worries. That’s why I have Chase.” I rubbed one of Bagel’s ears, and the donkey leaned into the gesture. “Are we good?”
“This is a rather one-sided bargain,” Lord Rigel said. “I’m not getting anything out of it.”
Whoa, there is danger here.
This next conversation could put me heavily in Rigel’s debt—which was dangerous beyond words—or I might be able to smooth things out and get off easily if I was careful.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Leila
I made myself casually shrug. “Life as a consort won’t be too bad. You can sit around and do whatever you like. You don’t have to study, or get cornered by annoying lords, or sit through meetings with really unpleasant people and smile.”
I paused. “This is getting depressing. The point is, you can do what you want—although I won’t lie, I’m hoping that’s going to include a lot less murdering, and maybe a new hobby or two instead. And you can stay as uninvolved with politics as you are now. Maybe even less involved—because no one is going to voluntarily drag you in.”
“Except you.”
“Except me,” I agreed. “Which, newsflash, I’m not too keen on, either.”
“I’ll agree,” Lord Rigel said. “Not for any of these reasons, but because I still cannot ascertain what kind of a threat you are to the fae, and if I marry you I will find it easier to end you if you do become a threat.”
Hmmm, will that count as an even balance between us? I’m going to say yes because it’s my life he’s threatening.
It was a warning more than a promise, but I took it to heart with a wince. “Yeah, I should have expected that. For the sake of curiosity, what do you consider a threat?”
“Destroying the Night Court beyond what it already has, to the point where the Night Realm has crumbled.”
“Oh.” I paused. “That’s not too bad. I think I’d have to actively try to make things worse. And I’m not going to do that because my beauties already look terrible.” I frowned as I peered across the aisle at Eclipse, who had her head hanging over her stall door. “Speaking of which, they’re on a fat supplement. Why do they still look an inch away from death?”
“Then we have a deal?”
“Yes,” I absently said. “Crap—wait, no! Rules of surviving with fae: never make deals or bargains! This isn’t a deal, it’s a business agreement. No take backs—that doesn’t count!”
Lord Rigel stared at me. “You are a strange creature.”
“Yeah, Indigo and Skye say that a lot, too,” I agreed.
“Very well, it’s an agreement, not a bargain or deal,” Lord Rigel said. He snapped, and the bubble burst. “I’d advise you to take care not to expect anything from me. You’re never going to see my wings.”
“Uhh…yeah?” I said, kind of confused. “Good for me?”
Why would I care about his wings?
Wings were a part of fae culture that I hadn’t looked into because—as far as I could tell—I didn’t have any.
All
members of fae nobility had wings—it was another expression of their great power—but they were secretive about them and apparently only showed them to those they really cared about.
I had no desire to see anybody’s wings. Skye probably didn’t have them either, Chase was a werewolf so he didn’t have any, and since Indigo was a brownie, she wouldn’t have them.
Lord Linus was the only member of my inner circle who had them, and if that doofus ever even tried to show me his wings—or talk about if he showed my mom his wings—I’d strangle him with my bare hands.
“Oh,” I said when it clicked. “You’re warning me not to fall in love with you. How very melodramatic and proper for a brooding fae like you. No worries, bucko. Murderizing snobs aren’t my type.”
I meandered back up the aisle, calling to the night mares. “I’ll be back later today, boys and girls! I need some sleep—and I’ve got to get out of this dress!”
Lord Rigel quickly caught up to me with his longer legs. “I will be surprised if, by the end of your reign, you haven’t offended every noble in your Court.”
“Ohhh, now that sounds like a challenge. I accept!”
“It was an observation.”
“I still accept!”
“If you anger so many people, there will be repercussions.”
“Hah—none I care about!”
Rigel glanced down at me. “What are your other rules for surviving with fae?”
“Don’t eat or drink anything a fae has made to avoid getting spelled. Pay attention to the way fae phrase things because even if they can’t lie, they will manipulate until the horses go back into the barn. Oh—never put yourself in a fae’s debt. And mind your manners since fae value them greatly.”
“And this summer is an example of you minding your manners?”
“I’m queen. That rule shouldn’t apply to me.”
“Shocking.”
“Hey, I do all the little speeches and stupid events and dinners—that ought to count for something!”
“Certainly, if your small donkey counts as a night mare.”
“You’re just jealous you have to use your brooding looks to get out of this kind of thing.”
“Brooding?”
“You say that as if you don’t do it on purpose—hah!”
“The last rider dropped out this morning, and all requests for new derby participants among the Night Court have gone unmet,” Skye said.
“These are the repercussions for getting engaged to my dashing assassin, I imagine,” I said.
“Most likely.”
I shrugged and looked around Magiford—the “race track.”
The city was cleared for the occasion. Lots of barriers were erected to block out pedestrian areas, keeping humans from accidentally wandering into the course—which was marked out by colored flags.
The Midsummer Derby wasn’t like your typical race—oh heck no.
It started on the north west side of the city and ended on the east side, but there were all kinds of different ways to get between the two spots, and the riders decided where to go.
The areas marked out for the course included several parks, downtown, and even the lakeside boardwalk. Technically two of the lakes were included in the area we could ride through, but neither water nor flying mounts were allowed, so that was a bit of a moot point.
There were pockets of spectators—this was one of the Curia Cloisters’ “good will” events that trotted us fae out for the humans to see, but I wasn’t convinced it actually bought us much popularity since all the downtown shops had to close for almost the entire day.
Skye fiddled with her tablet. “The derby begins in twenty minutes. We need to scratch our entries now.”
Lord Linus—yes, he’d returned from whatever hole he had crawled into after my engagement announcement—frowned and scratched Bagel’s head, then adjusted his hold on the donkey’s lead rope. “That’s not going to look good. Even under Queen Nyte, the Night Court has always managed to enter the derby. It’s going to make our reputation suffer even more.”
“Actually, it won’t, because we don’t have to scratch.” I held up my helmet and gestured to my riding clothes. “I came prepared.”
“You’re one rider, Queen Leila,” Skye said. “We still need five more.”
“No we don’t, because I have six night mares,” I said.
“What are you talking about?” Lord Linus asked.
“I read all of the race rules in excruciating detail. It says six horses are required per Court, but it never actually says each mount has to have a rider. And I’ve been working with the night mares—they’ll race with me. That’s why I insisted we bring Bagel and Fax, too.”
I gestured to Lord Rigel, who was holding Fax’s lead rope, and hadn’t said more than two sentences since we arrived here via a portal from the night mares an hour ago. The older sun stallion didn’t seem to mind, though. He pressed his giant head into Lord Rigel’s shoulder and happily exhaled.
Lord Linus stared at me for a long moment. “That’s it, you need to take a six pack of healing draughts. First you get yourself engaged to that assassin, and now you want to ride in a race that is famous among the supernatural community for its cut-throat competition! And you want to do this without anyone from the Night Court backing you up?”
“Frankly, the people of the Night Court have been trying to kill me. I’ll feel a lot better if they’re not there to ‘back me up,’ as you said.”
“Chase, talk her out of it,” Lord Linus said.
The werewolf gamely stepped up, his yellow eyes bright in the afternoon light. “It will be an unnecessary risk, Queen Leila.”
“Maybe, but as much as I want to quell the game of power in my own Court, I’m aware I need to give in to some of their traditions. This is something I’m actually good at, and I have an advantage with the night mares,” I said.
Chase, Skye, and Lord Linus exchanged glances as I strapped my helmet on, then whistled.
The night mares slunk out of the shadows. Blue Moon was the only one with a saddle—an English style one that Dusk and Dawn had pulled out for me—and a bridle.
“You’ve been planning for this,” Lord Linus said. “That’s why you’ve been practicing with all of your night mares.”
“I figured something like this would happen eventually, but I didn’t think it would with this specific race. I guess I underestimated my ability to annoy my own Court!” I winked.
Skye looked ready to pull out her hair. “Queen Leila, the possibilities of you getting injured are immense. You are an untested rider—the Court can survive another season even if we don’t enter the derby.”
“Hey—you know I can ride!” I protested. “And I’ll be with the night mares. They’ll make sure I’m safe.” I patted Blue Moon’s neck.
“The riding here is on a different level from letting a night mare take you for a stroll around your trails,” Skye said.
“Why do you want to do this?” Lord Linus asked. “You don’t have to.”
“I don’t,” I slowly agreed. “But I feel like my Court underestimates the night mares, and me. And I want to show them I don’t care what tactics they use.”
“All entries, report to the start line for opening ceremonies!” a man declared through a megaphone.
Skye sighed. “I’ll make arrangements for us to meet you at the end of the line.”
Chase narrowed his eyes at me. If he were in wolf form, I was pretty sure he’d have his ears pinned, but he bowed. “I’ll bring the security around.”
“Thanks, you two. Come on, beauties.” I started in the direction of megaphone guy, and my night mares followed behind me.
“You are such a willful, awful child,” Lord Linus complained as he followed me. “You’re going to send me to an early grave!”
“Yeah, yeah.”
I glanced at Lord Rigel who joined me, walking side by side with Fax happily prancing along.
“Thanks for watching Fax for me
while I ride.”
Lord Rigel glanced at me. “I, too, think this is a mistake.”
I pressed my lips together in irritation. “If you say it’s because you think I’m a bad rider, I’m going to tell one of the night mares to bite you.”
“No. I’m fairly certain you are a great deal better rider than everyone believes,” Lord Rigel said.
“Oh?”
“When I was staking out a place to hide and then kill you, I saw inside your barn.” He ignored Lord Linus when he squawked like an angry seagull. “Based on the kinds of equipment I saw, you’ve been riding a long time, and in a variety of styles.”
“Excellent observation.”
We followed megaphone man—who was repeating the announcement as he made his way to the starting point.
When we got closer, I could actually see more of the contestants, all preparing their mounts—which were mostly sun stallions.
I’d bet the Day or Night Courts founded this race since they were the only two Courts with magical horse mounts—I’d say it was that annoying jerk of a Night King, because as a first class fun sucker it seemed like it would totally be his thing. Regardless, talk about stacking the deck in your favor!
Of course, there were winged horses and unicorns, but neither of those animals were exactly common, and they didn’t readily allow themselves to be ridden. Plus, it was extremely rare that anyone could successfully domesticate one of them, so even if there was a domesticated unicorn or winged horse trotting around, their owner wasn’t going to risk entering them in a potentially dangerous race.
There were a few regular-ish horses—those were mostly owned by the less powerful seelie and unseelie Courts. And I say ‘ish’ because a lot of them still gave off a faint aura of magic—I was guessing they’d been stabled in the fae realm long enough to pick up some of the place’s natural magic, or they had a fae on staff that—like me—had some natural animal magic.
It was pretty easy to pick out the riders representing the Winter, Autumn, Summer, Spring, and Day Courts.
