“Yes,” Dad said, and I could tell his brain was like, Samuel, the guy who got murdered.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll have backup and I have this holy ring, and she obviously wants to negotiate so I’m sure she won’t hurt me.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m not even going to say goodbye because I’ll see you Monday.”
I gave him a hug anyway, and then I gave mom a hug, and that did feel really good. Then we hit the road for the familiar drive up the mountains into the middle of nowhere region where Merlin College and the Wyrd Tree were located. I didn’t start to feel nervous until I knew we were close. School was still going on without us, which meant all the professors were just on the other side of the mountain, including Harris’ cousin Piers. We had more to fear from them than the faery queen. Montague took a longer way around while Harris cast cloaking spells on the car. The road was rugged and the SUV was bumping around, the wheels just inches from a drop-off down the mountain.
“Don’t look,” Harris said, seeing my queasy face as the car rocked across bumps, seeming like it could tip sideways at any moment.
We rounded the bend and a truck was parked across the road, blocking it entirely. A couple of guards from Merlin were sitting in the truck, one sipping at a thermos, the other picking at a guitar.
We all caught our breath but they obviously didn’t see us.
“Shit,” Harris said. “Turn off the car before they hear the engine.”
“Your cloaking spells are working really well,” Montague said. “But…”
On either side of the truck, the mountain was steep.
“A fox would have no trouble getting under that truck,” Firian said. “Or…a wolf.”
“If they’re smart, they have a ward around the truck,” Harris said.
“I could probably scale those rocks with Charlotte on my back,” Montague said.
“No fucking way, you are not Edwarding me this time,” I hissed. “I still like Firian’s idea better. If I go past the truck, the three of you can create a distraction if there are wards.”
“Well, my warlock powers are gone,” Alec said. “Unless I’m planning on seducing two middle-aged men, which I’d rather not, it’s all on you two.”
“We can handle it,” Harris said, both of them taking out their wands like gunslingers getting ready for a saloon battle.
We opened our doors very slowly. The guards still seemed oblivious. I got the feeling they’d been guarding the roads ever since we left, and it wasn’t that they expected us today in particular, which was good. It meant they were bored. But it was also unnerving. They really didn’t want us to get at the Wyrd tree.
“You can handle this,” Firian said.
I stood there and tried to transform. I had only ever done this the one time. I couldn’t just turn into a wolf anywhere. Magic had some weird rules. Only wizard magic worked in the Fixed Plane. Werewolves couldn’t turn into wolves, and Alec couldn’t go into his demon form, although he could still seduce people. Vampires could still be vampires, of course, because otherwise they would have died out a long time ago. It had something to do with what the laws of the human world accepted as true.
Since Merlin College existed in a place where the worlds met, more types of magic worked here, and humans couldn’t find it easily. So I should have been able to easily just…become a wolf. Right? I couldn’t remember how I did it the last time. My body was feeling very Current Mood: Mostly Hairless, Bipedal.
“You’ve got this,” Alec said.
“Yes.”
“Take a deep breath and stop looking at those guys.”
The guard had stopped playing the guitar and was now asking the other guy if he thought the porridge this morning tasted a little moldy.
Ew. I so did not miss that terrible chef Piers dragged in.
I slowly inhaled and exhaled, breathing from my stomach, imagining that the core of my being was this powerful, malleable force that could transform easily into a wolf. My birthright. Yes.
I slipped onto four legs like it was nothing and then I lifted my head proudly like, oh yeah, I did it. The guys all gave me thumbs up and made encouraging hand gestures toward the truck. It was crazy to me that none of them looked super surprised to watch their girlfriend turn into a wolf for the first time, but such was the magical life I guess.
Having succeeded at the wolf part, I took a few stealthy steps toward the truck. It was easy to walk softly on four padded feet than—
“Hey, it’s my turn to walk,” one of the guys said.
I froze and looked at my crew. Walk?
“All right,” the other guy said, getting back to his guitar. “Holler if you see anything.”
“Sure, wouldn’t that make Piers’ day,” the other guy said. It made me smile that apparently even warlocks had their average day job dudes who complained about the boss. But less smileworthy was the fact that he started marching right for the SUV. He was going to smack into Firian on his current trajectory. They all scattered as quietly as they could. “What was that?” the guy said. “I heard something.”
Both guards got their wands out, flicked them, and chanted spells, as Harris quickly whispered a counter-spell.
“Run! We’re counting on you now!” Montague told me as the guard’s wand whacked the SUV’s windshield and the wards collapsed.
I ran under the truck, getting mud on my hands—paws, whatever—and stomach. Ick. But I didn’t look back. I knew they would all do their best to cover me and if I hesitated that would be a waste. I ran for the tree, knowing the paths pretty well by now, passing by the cave where Stuart used to live. It was quiet here now and I wondered how Stuart’s servants were doing. I had a pang of guilt, because last I heard the council had captured Orson, and I didn’t know if anyone had saved him. I had been so cut off from the magical world.
The adrenaline racing through me now, the sense that I was helping my friends, and their friends, and so on?
It really does feel right.
I got to the tree and it felt like I exploded back into human form. It left me feeling dizzy, and now I was still covered in mud. “What the hell, magic? How come my clothes come and go but the mud is here to stay?”
The leaves of the white tree shivered in the wind, and it seemed very quiet.
“Hello? I am here to speak to Queen Morgana, of the Faeries, please? This is Charlotte Byrne. Is anyone here?”
A bright light emerged from the tree, growing and growing until I had to lift my hands to keep from being blinded. As I cringed back from the vivid white glow, I felt everything shift and spin around me. The light faded and I was standing on a path inside two columns of cypress trees. They formed a perfect natural hallway walled in by straight trunks, and a roof of leaves above my head, while the path was surrounded by pools of lily-pads and other lush flowers and mangrove trees, so it seemed almost like I was inside a room, but I was outside. I was no plant expert, but I felt like all this stuff didn’t usually grow together, which made it seem more strange.
At the opposite end of the long path, I could see a huge white throne with someone sitting in it. I took a step forward and soldiers immediately rushed up from behind and blocked my way with spears and pikes.
I lifted my hands. “Sorry! Sorry! I don’t know the protocol.”
They had moved so swiftly and quietly that I was completely startled by them, especially since there were over a dozen of them. They didn’t disappoint. They were all beautiful in a way that was extremely masculine but also graceful and a little delicate, with pale bluish skin and hair in shades of indigo, purple and crimson. Some of them had webbed hands, so I guess these were the water fae. They wore leather armor with gold accents, all of their chests marked with a shimmering emblem of red coral.
Behind this layer of male warriors, I realized the trees had another dozen female archers perched high in the branches.
Although they were all attractive and looked like they could probably kill me in two sec
onds, I sensed a certain malaise. Stuart said that Wyrd was dying because they had cut themselves off from the human world. Maybe that was what I picked up on.
“The queen sent me a letter,” I said. “I mean no harm.”
A tall, slender but broad-shouldered man was walking down the path. He had white hair that was obviously natural, because he looked fairly young. His grayish skin and green-gold eyes gave some hot dark elf vibes to his absolutely gorgeous facial features, but he didn’t look especially welcoming. He was carrying a scroll, wearing a knee-length robe/coat thing over black leather boots, and looked like the Battle Librarian class that Fortune’s Favor briefly flirted with before some dumb male fans made a meme joking about it and they ended up retiring the whole thing.
“Battle Librarian?” he said, lifting an eyebrow.
“Did I say that aloud?”
“No.”
He read my mind? Oh crap. That was the creepiest magic ever.
He stared at me with cold, narrowed eyes. “I am Lord Cyrus of the House of Hemlock, and I serve as liaison to Queen Morgana. Please tell me what you wish to say to her and I will bring her the message.”
“I can’t just talk to her?”
“She has no wish to look upon a human,” he sneered.
I guess I couldn’t help an expression of defiance as I said, “Oh? Well. Tell her—“
“Do you take issue with our queen’s wishes?” he asked.
“Her wish not to look upon a human?”
“If she heard your tone, I think she would have you punished,” he said. “She is the queen of the faeries and you are a witch without magic. Do you think you are worthy of looking upon her?”
“I think a strong queen would look at everyone she does business with right in the eyes,” I said.
As soon as I said it, I saw his eyes widen and burn with an inner flame that only comes from offending a beautiful immortal. I wanted to take it back. I didn’t want to rot in faery prison. She was the one who sent me a message, for crying out loud, so if it was going to be this much trouble, well, never mind.
Then, the fire in his eyes calmed down and instead he gave me another small smile that seemed like it might actually be worse. “You are bold,” he said. “Come forward, then. You wanted to meet the queen.”
Fortune favors the bold. I took a deep breath. “Thank you,” I said.
He strolled forward, and I noticed more and more faeries watching me silently as I walked. Faeries in the trees, faeries in the bushes, faeries in the water peering out from under lily-pads.
It felt like we walked a mile to actually reach the throne. It was so far away. As we got closer, I saw slender, bluish white limbs hanging wearily off the arms of the huge throne, with bracelets of thin red coral wrapped around her wrists. The faery queen wore a veil like a bride, and a gown with layers of shimmering purple, red, and silver. I could just barely see her eyes, glowing out from under the veil.
“Ila aru, arhal lai,” she said, in a very thin voice. “Shi’il na…?”
I couldn’t tell if she was sick or really old, or if she was actually very strong but frail in appearance. She definitely looked frail, but I had goosebumps all over my body. I felt like she noticed every move I made, every breath, and was testing me.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Cyrus said, bowing to her. “This is the Wyrd witch girl, Charlotte.”
She said a bunch of stuff in her own language, sounding breathless, but also dangerous. I mean, I’m not saying she was a villain, too early to judge, but a lot of villains also look and sound half-dead.
“She says you can come closer,” Cyrus said.
“It sounds like she said more than that.”
“Come closer,” he repeated. “No, no, closer.” He nudged me forward until I was closer than I wanted to be.
“Do you want me close, or far away?” I said. “Make up your mind!”
“She says you are not what she expected,” Cyrus said, and then he considered me and said, unimpressed, “Indeed.”
“What do you mean by that?”
I could see more of her face under the veil, but still not enough of her face to know that she was more than a pair of glowing eyes and pale, wan cheeks. She reached a hand out, her webbed hand skimming the air in front of me. She whispered more rapidly, musical words pouring out of her.
“She says you are a true child of Wyrd,” he said. “She is more pleased with you than she expected.”
That sounded promising. Maybe I could actually get somewhere with her. It would be so amazing if I could actually negotiate this treaty and save everyone from the council. “Thank you.”
The queen gestured at my hand.
“She would like the ring you are wearing,” he said.
I knew she must mean the reliquary ring I was wearing for protection. “To keep?”
“Yes, it is customary to bring an offering when you are given a reception with Queen Morgana,” he said.
“I’m sorry. She can’t have that one. It isn’t even mine. I’m borrowing it—“
“From the Hapsburgs,” he interrupted. “They are a Ethereal family. If you wish to be welcomed here, you must relinquish your Ethereal artifacts. We are considering whether we want to allow human wizards into Wyrd for the first time in centuries. This is something you desperately want.”
“I’m not desperate,” I said. “Not desperate enough to give away something that isn’t mine.”
“It was given to you by a boy who loves you, was it not?” Cyrus asked. “You don’t think he would understand?” He said something to Queen Morgana. She stared at me.
“I don’t know if he like, loves me, loves me,” I said. “It’s still not right, anyway. I have honor. I’m not going to give it to you unless I know you’ll give me something in exchange.”
“She actually is very stubborn,” he said, in response to another question from the queen. “But, she is very loyal to her mates.” They said something, nodded to each other, and Cyrus beckoned me off to the side, to one of the pools of water surrounding the throne. He swirled his hand around over the water and an image appeared in the water of Piers and the other professors swarming my guys. Piers zapped Firian, who was helpless without his—our—magic.
“Oh god!” I gasped. “Is that real?”
“I’m just showing you what’s going on back home,” he said. “You will need us if you want to have magic. Your Ethereal council will banish all of you to Sinistral, and you’ve seen Sinistral. It is an unstable world and only the heartiest mages would ever survive there. The queen needs you to show your loyalty to her.”
“I came here to negotiate,” I said. “I’m not giving her anything until we’ve hammered out the terms of the deal.”
“The queen doesn’t ‘hammer’,” he said.
“I think the queen needs me as much as I need her, so she’d better start meeting me halfway.”
“The queen doesn’t need you.”
“Oh?” I said. “This world isn’t sick? Stuart told me Wyrd is dying, and everyone here looks awfully pale. Even the plants just seem…off.”
“We have been dying for centuries, so I suppose it will take a while yet,” he said. “There will be others like you.”
“So you don’t need me at all.” I was definitely catching a whiff of weakness off Mr. Arrogant Mind-Reader. “I’ll just go and you can find someone else.”
“Hass!” the queen called out before slumping wearily forward. She snapped her fingers. She said a bunch of stuff. It sounded like she was upset at Cyrus.
He stared back at her with a little twitch at his temple before saying, “Very well. The queen will present herself clearly. She will open the gates of Wyrd to thirteen witches. You may name their number. Each of these witches must join with the great houses of Wyrd, tied in future by blood. She asks for your reliquary ring as a token of the agreement. In exchange, she will return your magic to you.”
“You’re saying we only get faery magic if we agree to marry faeries
?”
“Yes,” he said.
“So what happens to me and my mates? We aren’t allowed into Wyrd? I’m trying to keep my friends safe, too. Professor McGuinness is gay; do you have someone for him? Plus, what if they don’t want to marry faeries?”
Cyrus frowned as the queen continued. “She says that if you give up the ring, you will be permitted into Wyrd, as will any other witch or warlock who comes into Wyrd magic naturally.”
The queen tapped her fingers on the arm of her throne. She seemed to think she was giving me a generous concession.
“That won’t help my people!” I said. “I don’t know anyone who wants to marry a faery! Did she get the head of the Withered Lord from Stuart?”
“Yes. She was very impressed. That’s the only reason she is speaking to you at all.”
“I feel like we’ve done a lot,” I said. “We killed a demon. That’s your enemy, right? We’re fighting with the Ethereal council. That’s also your enemy. I’ll give you the ring if you give me my magic back, but then I want all my boyfriend and friends who fought with me to be allowed into Wyrd. No marriage alliances. We’re not interested.”
“Killing a demon proves you have some worth,” he said. ”In the scheme of things, it’s nothing compared to opening our gates to humans. The queen must maintain control over this alliance or she will not make it. We will not allow our culture to be corrupted. Each bride will be trained in our ways so we don’t have uncouth humans just running around, popping in and out.”
“That’s not the deal I need,” I said.
“Well, then, it seems we can’t come to terms.”
“Wait, wait!” I said, frantic. I didn’t want to go home without figuring something out. “Please! We want to help you too.”
The queen suddenly spoke in English herself, with a beautiful accent, but she still sounded weary. “This is the only bargain we shall offer today, child.”
“What about the ring for my magic? At least?”
I mean, the ring wasn’t actually mine to give, but I knew Harris would want me to get my magic back. The fact was, Harris liked our little competition over who was the best wizard, and it was no fun if he had magic and I didn’t. He told me to wear the ring to protect myself. He wasn’t going to ask for it back, anyway. If I had magic, I could protect myself with my own power, which was obviously better.
Battle of the Hexes Page 5
