by Ashley Meira
“Me?” she drawled, rolling her eyes up to sweep across the ceiling. “I heard there was an imposter storming our gates and thought to neutralize the threat before we were engulfed in warfare.”
“Yes,” he said dryly. “These two girls are clearly an army upon themselves. You were with us when the news was delivered, and there was no mention of an ‘imposter.’”
“What else could she be?” she asked, keeping her eyes wide like an innocent child. “Dear Titania’s long gone.”
“Missing,” the old woman said. “Unless there is something more you know?”
“Missing for almost twenty years. No matter how flighty she is, it’s not like her to keep out of touch for so long. Has no one else assumed the worst?”
The Court fell silent.
“We’re here to speak to you about Trixie,” Fiona said after a brief pause. “Someone is attempting to summon her.”
This time, the ghostly whispers weren’t the only reaction we received. The old man and woman frowned, fixing their sightless stares on us. Marjolaine’s plucked brows shot up. Roman…. Well, Roman took a deeper breath than usual and frowned.
“Explain,” he said.
We really should have spent some time while we were wandering around inventing a story that flowed better than the hackjob we gave them. All the important details remained: someone had discovered the Wreath, it was stolen, I stumbled onto the plot, then learned of a way to reach the Court to ask for help, and so on. But we did our best to leave out any mention of Bane, Charlotte, or Adam, though I did have to mention my partner’s name when explaining how Gadot was let loose.
“That’s why we’re here,” I finished. “We have every intention of stopping Trixie’s summoning, but we need to know if there’s a way to defeat her if we fail.”
“Well, you’re certainly good at that,” Marjolaine said snidely. “Perhaps your world should take up better guardians, hm?”
“Enough, Marjolaine,” the old woman said. “Whether you like them or not, these children are guests and shall be treated as such.”
“Will you help us?” Fiona asked.
“Help solve your problem?” Marjolaine said. “You’re the ones who let it get this far.”
“Actually, you did.” Fiona planted her hands on her hips and gave the blonde a fixed look. “You’re the ones who sealed her in that Wreath and then chose not to destroy it. You’re the ones who hid her on Earth. And you’re the one who just tried to have me killed, so don’t—”
“How dare you?” Marjolaine snarled, her dainty mask cracking.
“No, how dare you?” Fiona snarled back. Her magic had ceased its restless fidgeting and was poised to strike. “If you had done your job in the first place, we wouldn’t even be here!”
“Calm yourself, child,” Roman said gently.
Fiona whipped around so quickly she momentarily turned into a red blur. “Don’t call me that.”
Roman’s lips curved even lower. “There is a tugging in the veil near my kingdom. The being prying the protections apart must be powerful indeed to have accomplished such a feat, especially considering the dragons in the area.” A flash of ire sparked in his eye at the mention of the sanctuary. Were there actual fixed locations between Arcadia and Earth? “I believe the threat is real, and we should extend every courtesy to our guests—”
“Of course you do.” Marjolaine sighed dramatically and rested her chin against her palm.
“A mystery that you do not,” the old woman said. “Have these twenty years soured you?”
She snorted. “The twenty years I spent here doing my duty while Queen Titania vagabonded about? Hardly.”
“I thought you said she was dead?” Roman asked.
“I said nothing.”
“You implied it.”
“A theory.”
“A threat.”
“Why would I—”
“A boon,” the old man spoke for the first time. His voice was hoarse and his words were slow, but they silenced the room.
Now, we were talking. Even on Earth, the fae rarely did anything without recompense. On our side, it was usually money, which is why a lot of the top earners in our world had at least a trace of fae heritage. But I’ve had fae ask me for different payments based on the situation. I learned the hard way to take those deals with eyes wide open. Ask for all the details you can, and if they refused to provide any, walk away. Fae deals were far too treacherous, otherwise.
“You want us to do something for you?” Fiona asked. “Now? Trixie is—”
“Not now,” the old woman said. “After your task is completed and we have need of you.”
“Yes,” Marjolaine crooned, sounding far too satisfied for comfort. “A boon. A task. A simple task to perform for the Court. For us. From you.”
“How simple?” I asked. “What do you want us to do?”
“Not you,” Marjolaine snipped. “Her. Only her. Or no deal.”
“Do you have a task in mind, Marjolaine?” the old woman asked.
“I might, but no outsiders in our world if we can help it.” She sniffed derisively. “It’s uncouth.”
“How?” Fiona glowered at her.
“We can’t come into your world, she can’t come into ours.”
“You can come into our world,” I pointed out.
“Not unofficially.” She batted her kohl-lined eyes at me. “Did you want to make it official?”
Damn it. We couldn’t make it official even if we wanted to. Bane would never go along with it, and since he was my one source of Fireborn information, I didn’t want to risk alienating him. But my sister was more important. I wasn’t going to feed her to the fae. Especially not to Marjolaine, who’d tried to kill her not ten minutes ago.
“Fine,” Fiona said before I could tell Marjolaine where to shove it. “But only if you provide useful information. Saying the only way to destroy Trixie is to burn the Wreath or something won’t cut it.”
“Of course,” the old woman said, the corners of her lips curving. “Though that is certainly one solution, provided you reach the Wreath before the ritual is complete. Rip it apart, set it ablaze — anything magical will do. Be prepared, however: you will need to use a great deal of magic.”
“Can you destroy the Wreath if we bring it to you?” Fiona asked while I stared at her, shell-shocked. Was she insane accepting that deal?
“Once touched, lost forever,” Roman recited as he left his seat and came to us. “We cannot interact with the Wreath in any way.”
Fiona crossed her arms and gave him a dark look. “So, you have nothing?”
I swore amusement flashed in Roman’s eyes before he said, “We have a weapon. It can be used to kill Trixie, but be warned: she is as deadly with a blade as she is with magic.”
“So am I,” Fiona said without missing a beat.
There was a knock at the door and they parted to reveal a man with dark, curly hair and iridescent purple eyes. He was dressed in all black, from his cardigan and tight t-shirt to his jeans and combat boots. His features appeared to be cut from marble, and I thought this must be what Roman looked like when he was younger — if he was human.
Or not. Despite his clothing, this guy was a fairy. I could smell the familiar sugary scent under the blueberry tang of his magic, so similar to Roman’s. His son, I imagined, though I tried not to genetically link people based on their magic. Could it be, though? Was this Fiona’s brother? They were both attractive, at least. Like they belonged on a fashion magazine instead of this place.
As he strode toward us, I noticed he was holding something. The dark cloth wrapped around the object blended in with his attire — as did the pair of twin daggers strapped to his thighs. Any other day, Fiona would have flashed him a flirty grin and batted her lashes. Today, she waited with crossed arms and cold eyes as he bowed to Roman and held out the mystery item.
Roman nodded to Fiona, who cast the young man one final look before pulling the cloth aside. A black leath
er sheath lay nestled within, and she grasped the dark hilt sticking from it. The weapon slid out silently, its blade glowing. The light vanished a moment later, revealing a sleek but plain dagger ending in a horizontal edge like my sword did.
“Fill it with magic and give it a swing,” the courier said, appraising Fiona carefully.
She raised a brow but stepped back and did as he asked. Magic flared from the dagger as it extended with a schink and became a full-fledged sword. She twirled the new weapon around a few times before flicking her wrist, causing it to fold back into a dagger. I watched as she sheathed the weapon and strapped it to her thigh.
Fiona occasionally carried a pair of daggers along with her, much like the man before us did. But since she could use her magic in public, she often forgot to bring them — and the ring to summon them back — with her. The worry that she might not be up to par on her weapon skills niggled at me, and I resolved to bring it up when we returned home — where I planned on letting her have a piece of my mind about all of this.
“Was that iron?” Fiona asked. “It felt lighter than that. Should fae be using iron, anyway?”
“Considering we’re allergic to it — at best — no,” the courier said, shrugging when Roman gave him a reproachful look. “What? She asked.”
“That weapon is made of orichalcum,” Roman explained. “It should serve you well against most enemies, and shall dispatch Trixie should you pierce her heart with the full extent of the blade.”
Fiona nodded and squared her shoulders, but before she could speak, a portal flashed to life behind us. The courier had conjured it, if the displeased look Roman shot him was any indication. He merely shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“That will take you back to whence you came,” Roman said, shooting the man one last look.
“Thereabouts,” the courier said with another shrug.
Fiona seemed glued to the floor with all the effort it took for me to pull her toward the portal. I didn’t want to leave, not when the man who could give her the answers she needed was standing right there. But he wasn’t alone, and while the Court might have entertained us a few moments longer, Marjolaine wouldn’t make things easy. I didn’t want to tempt fate.
With a final bow toward our hosts, I tugged on Fiona’s wrist and dragged her through the portal.
“What were you thinking?!” we both yelled as we stepped back into the sanctuary.
The portal had snapped closed behind us, and there was no sign of Bane’s home, but neither of us cared as we glared at the other.
“Me?” I asked, mouth ajar. “What the hell did I do?”
“You dragged me out of there!” Her hands were balled against her sides, her face blending with her hair.
“What was I supposed to do? Leave you there?”
“I needed to ask questions!”
“You needed to not take that deal without talking to me,” I shot back. “Seriously, what the hell were you thinking? No questions asked? You know that’s a terrible idea when it comes to the fae.”
“First of all, we didn’t have a choice. They wouldn’t have helped us otherwise. Second, I didn’t realize I needed to run everything by you. And third, in case you forgot, I’m fae.”
My nails left crescent-shaped gouges in my palms. “Then you should know better. And you have no idea how they would have reacted if we’d said no, because you weren’t thinking.”
Her magic snapped around like a wild snake. “The hell I wasn’t.”
“You just wanted to get all that crap out of the way so you could talk to Roman. Which would have been fine if we weren’t in the middle of the Fairy Court. Not to mention the way you spoke to Marjolaine.”
“She was a total bitch!”
“Yeah, but you engaged her. All you had to do was stay calm for a few minutes while we talked things out. Now, you owe her a debt you have to pay alone. Alone, Fiona. What the hell?”
“Calm? Stay calm? I just learned who my parents were, and you want me to stay calm? Like you would have reacted any better? Like you aren’t frothing at the mouth right now to ask Bane about Fireborns.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“You’re right. It isn’t. Because Bane is here. Who knows if I’ll ever see Roman again. You heard him: he was willing to answer my questions after we answered his. Now, he’s gone. How could you do this to me?”
Guilt prickled at me, but it was pushed back by pride and anger. “There is a time and place, Fiona — and that wasn’t it. You can see him again. Hell, we could have probably negotiated a deal so that you owed him the debt, but we’ll never know—”
“Enough about the damn debt!” she hissed. “It’s to the Court, not Marjolaine.”
I stared into her enraged green eyes and took in the tensed muscles rippling across her body. There was no point in arguing with her when she was like this.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Then, you’ll see him again when they call for you, so stop acting like I was the one who ruined everything back there.”
“Right, because that’s all that matters: you,” she ground out. “Your nightmares and your boyfriend and your kidnapper. He held me captive, too, you know.”
“I never said he didn—”
“And when I get the chance to learn about my past, it’s suddenly a problem.”
My shoulders slumped as my anger melted away. “Hey, that is not what I meant. Of course it’s not a problem. I wanted you to speak to Roman and find out more, but we couldn’t stay. You’re my sister — I want the best for you.”
“You sure don’t show it.” Fiona straightened up and tightened her ponytail. “In fact, you’ve been so busy galavanting around with Adam, I’m surprised you still care at all.”
I reeled back, her words burning more than any slap she could’ve given me. We’d had fights before — it was normal for sisters — but they always died down quickly. Was that really what she thought of me?
“It was all talk, then?” I asked in a whisper. “All those things you said about me deserving to have a life? What you really meant was: I could have a life as long as it wasn’t better than yours. I’m allowed to date, but I can’t commit? I have to chase them off the way you do and—”
“Found them!” Charlotte’s voice rang out from our left.
Her face appeared a moment later but was quickly covered by Adam’s body as he rushed forward. His arms encircled my waist, relief painted across his face. That relief faded a moment later when I stepped away from him. He looked between Fiona and me, taking in the situation — and the hurricane of magic in the air.
“We heard shouting,” he said slowly.
“At first we thought it was Gadot, but Adam recognized your magic,” Charlotte said. “You’ve been gone all day. Did you make it to Arcadia? What happened?”
“Why don’t we go inside?” Adam suggested. “You guys look tired.”
Charlotte nodded. “I’ve already prepared everything for dinner. I was just waiting until you returned. Bane!” she called, disappearing through the plants. “Turn the oven on!”
We’d finished dinner a few moments ago and gathered in the living room. I didn’t see why since we’d already filled them in during dinner, but Bane had insisted. I guess he still had questions, but he could have just asked Fiona instead of calling us together.
Tension knotted every muscle in my body as we sat across from each other. Our anger usually dissipated after we ate, but I found myself no more inclined toward her than before. I didn’t even want to look at her right now, and the way she avoided my gaze made it clear she felt the same.
I guess, to be fair, the anger was gone on my end. It’d been gone since she accused me of not caring, and in its place had come hurt. That was the core of it. Despite our arguments — or the insults we threw at each other — we never caused that kind of pain. It was an unwritten rule. We could air out our grievances just fine without breaking each other down. The rest of the world had done that enoug
h.
But she’d broken that rule — we both had — and I wasn’t sure how we’d recover from it.
“It looks so plain,” Charlotte said, inspecting the weapon Roman had given Fiona. “I’ve never seen an orichalcum weapon before.”
“They’re incredibly rare,” Bane said, turning the blade over in his hand. “It’s not easy to craft with orichalcum.”
“I’d rather we not use it,” Adam said, holding me close. Now that I’d stopped pulling away, he hadn’t gone more than a few moments without an arm around me. “We found the summit Gadot is using.”
“How?” I asked.
“Process of elimination,” Bane drawled.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “There’s a summit the dragons are avoiding. They told him.”
“The dragons told you?” Fiona asked.
“Not literally,” he said. “But that peak is your best bet.”
“Will you take us there?” I asked.
“No, but I can show you how to get there. It’s a steep climb, so I suggest you rest and set off tomorrow.”
“Can’t you get the dragons to fly them up?” Charlotte asked.
“Which ones? The overprotective mothers or their three foot long spawn? Perhaps their temperamental mates?”
“You can just say no,” she said flatly.
“No.”
“You’re still refusing to help?” Adam asked. “After all this?”
“Refusing to help?” Bane arched a brow. “I saved you from that dragon and gave you a place to stay. I told you about Gadot and Trixie. I’m giving you directions to the summit. I even taught Fiona how to open a portal into Arcadia.”
“But—”
“That’s more help than I ever wanted to give, and you say it isn’t enough.” He frowned. “You’re lucky I’ve grown soft in my old age, otherwise you’d be dragon fodder.”
“Enough,” Fiona snipped, rubbing her temples. For once, the glamour she wore failed to disguise her weariness. “We have the sword, and we have the location. Everything we need to stop the ritual is in place along with a backup plan. Whatever else comes our way, we’ll handle. Let’s get some rest and head out tomorrow.”
