Blood of Centaurs: Book 12 of The Witch Fairy Series

by Bonnie Lamer

  I give him a sour look. “No.”

  “I will!” Zac says. He must have caught Kegan’s question as he entered the room. Using his body parts appropriately, he begins singing. “You put your right hand in, you put your right hand out. You put your right hand in and you shake it all about. You do the hokey pokey and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about!”

  A round of applause echoes in the room. Zac, being the ham he is, takes a bow. Straightening, he says, “I could do another verse.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I say dryly.

  “What interesting songs you have in your realm,” Alita says, trying hard not to laugh.

  I’m relieved to discover sarcasm doesn’t trigger my lie detecting. Must be because she wasn’t actually trying to convince me it’s true. “It’s a kids’ song,” I clarify again.

  “As fascinating as this is, we should be going,” Dagda says.

  “I’m ready!” Zac says. “I ate breakfast earlier.”

  I look at him quizzically. “You’re ready for what?”

  He gives me his best ‘sisters can be so dumb’ looks. “I’m ready to go with you.”

  Dumbfounded, I say, “With me? You’re not going with me.”

  A smug grin forms on my younger brother’s face. “Yes, I am. Uncle Dagda said I could and so did Mom and Dad.”

  I narrow my eyes at ‘Uncle Dagda’. “You invited my little brother to come? What were you thinking? This could be dangerous.” A fight could break out between the Centaurs and Sasquatch and Zac could get hurt.

  Kallen shrugs. “I was younger than he is when I began accompanying my uncle on diplomatic trips.”

  “But we don’t know if this is going to be diplomatic. It may be all out war!” I protest.

  “Xandra, your brother will be fine,” Dad says as he floats into the room. “Your mother and I took all of that into consideration before giving our permission. We know that no matter what happens, you will protect Zac.” He gives me a cold kiss on the cheek that may have caused frostbite. I try to warm the skin back up with my palm.

  “We will all assume responsibility for his safety,” Tana says with an affectionate gaze in Zac’s direction.

  “I don’t like it,” I grumble.

  This set me up for receiving Zac’s best ‘if you love me you would let me do it’ expression. “Please,” he begs.

  How can I say no to those big blue eyes and pouty lips? And my brother knows the instant I make up my mind. With a fist pump in the air, he says, “Yes!”

  “You know you have to wear a suit, right?” I ask him.

  This dims his excitement somewhat, but he’s determined to come. “Okay.”

  It’s Tana who does the magic. Zac is now wearing a suit nearly identical to Dagda’s. Navy blue pinstripe with a pale blue shirt and a tie that matches the color of the suit. Zac looks himself over and states, “This isn’t so bad.”

  Tana smiles. “Perhaps on this trip we can work to improve your speech.” Supernaturals and their insistence on perfect grammar. It’s so annoying.

  “You speak just fine,” I say to Zac. I ignore the dark look coming from my step-mother’s direction.

  Step-mother. It’s always odd to think of Tana that way. Maybe because of the open hostility she shows me when she can’t keep her emotions in check. Granted, it’s getting better between us, but I will always be the reminder that her husband once cheated on her. Not to mention the fact that I am heir to the throne because she has never borne children with Dagda. I wonder if under Fairy law a baby born to them would trump my claim to the throne. That’s probably too much to hope for.

  Since my opinion is irrelevant, I guess Zac is coming with us. “Fine. But you stay by me,” I instruct.

  All smiles again, Zac says, “Okay.”

  Strolling into the kitchen, a suit-clad Garren says, “Do not leave without me.”

  My mouth drops open. “You’re coming, too?” I turn my astonished gaze to Dagda.

  Clearing his throat and pulling on his tie a little, my biological father says, “Garren has valuable insight. He often journeyed to the Sasquatch realm over the years.”

  Frowning, Kallen asks, “Why?” He is less thrilled than I am about this new development.

  With a half-smile, Garren says, “There is a strong parallel regarding the way the Dragons and the Sasquatch think. It was interesting studying the ways they each developed their society.”

  “So, the Sasquatch are also pig-headed, elitist and have a grandiose feeling of entitlement when it comes to their own special needs just like the Dragons,” I say dryly. See, I have been paying attention.

  Kallen smirks. “As you see, my wife has discovered the same parallels. She has saved you a trip.”

  Dagda is looking over Garren’s shoulder at Isla who followed Garren into the room. Something passes between them silently. Returning to our conversation, Dagda says, “I still believe Garren will be an asset to us. He will be accompanying us to the peace talks.”

  Suspicion is blooming inside me. The result of the tingly feeling I’m getting on my skin from Dagda saying he believes Garren will be an asset. I think Isla convinced Dagda to take Garren with us. But why? To get him out of the house and give Tabitha time to come to grips with him being a permanent fixture? Or is she hoping that spending time alone with him will make Kallen more comfortable with their relationship? Either way, I think this is a bad idea.

  Grumpily, I say to Dagda, “Is anyone else coming? I hope so, I don’t think I have enough people I will need to keep safe while dealing with my new Fairy gift and the Centaurs and Sasquatch.”

  “Xandra has a valid point, Uncle,” Kallen adds, hoping to leave Garren behind.

  Dagda is waffling. I can almost see the gears work in his mind as he tries to determine the best solution. Leave Garren here to make Kallen and me happy but have Isla upset with him. Or, take him with us making Kallen and me unhappy but keeping his relationship with Isla in good standing. Apparently, he fears Isla’s unhappiness more than mine and Kallen’s. “Garren will be accompanying us.” There is a finality in his tone. He’s not going to budge from this position. Gee, this isn’t going to blow up in his face, I’m certain of it. Right.

  Instead of throwing a temper tantrum like a three year old, I square my shoulders and stand up. Taking Kallen’s hand, I tug him toward the terrace and the beach. He is reluctant with the sudden turn of events, but I know he won’t let me go without him. We are trailed by everyone else who was in the kitchen.

  Mom is on the beach waiting for us. My guess is she didn’t want to be in the kitchen with Tana and need to play nice. Since that would have been a spider fiesta on my skin, I appreciate it. In turn, Mom wraps Zac and me in her cold embrace. Much to his surprise, she also hugs Kallen. He tries to keep his shiver caused by the icy hug to a minimum. Coming back to me, Mom says, “You keep your brother safe. Yourselves, as well. I expect all of you back here in one piece.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I promise. I probably could have sounded more confident, but it wasn’t my idea to bring Zac along. I would have said no if anyone had bothered to ask me.

  Dad is the next to embrace us all. I can tell he wants to come with us, but a lot of supernatural beings are afraid of ghosts. Mostly because ghosts are usually vengeful spirits who refuse to move on until they exact revenge on whoever they feel wronged them in life. Mom and Dad are obviously not those kinds of ghosts. But, Dad’s presence would still probably spook our hosts.

  After releasing Kallen from his icy grip, Dad says, “You keep my daughter and son safe.”

  Kallen nods. “I will.”

  I roll my eyes. “Dad, I can protect myself.”

  He chuckles. “I know you can but humor me. I feel better knowing Kallen has your back.” I know what he means. I do, too.

  Breaking into the conversation, Dagda hurries us along. “We should be going.”

  After giving Kallen a light kiss on the cheek, I step forward and re
ach out my hand. I pull back, ripping the layers between realms. Now, we can see the Centaur realm. In front of us is a large building that strongly resembles, well, it strongly resembles a barn. It’s a fancy barn. But, still a barn.

  “This is the right place,” Kallen assures me as if he read my mind. He’s been to the Centaur realm before so he should know. “This is the Hall of Justice.”

  Barn of Justice is more like it. Reigning in my judgmental opinion, they are half horse after all, I clear the passageway making it safe for those travelling with me. Once we are all through, we wave good bye to our friends and family and I close the passage.

  Several Centaur are standing at attention in front of us. Dagda assured me they would be expecting our arrival through my self-made portal, so I’m not surprised. Though, the long spears they are holding are still a bit intimidating. At least, they are until I remember I am a powerful Witch Fairy who can protect herself against such weapons in less than a heartbeat. This makes me stand straighter and erase any trace of fear from my face.

  “They are so cool!” Zac exclaims.

  Both centaurs are broad chested with chest hair that tapers into their horse withers. Both have dark hair that is tied back and gleams in the bright sun. One of them has a full beard that is well groomed. They are both very handsome when you get past the half horse thing.

  Garren smiles and pats Zac on the shoulder. “They are rather impressive,” he agrees. Then he whispers low enough so the Centaurs cannot hear him, “Not as impressive as Dragons, though.” Zac grins. I roll my eyes. Insulting our hosts is not the best way to start.

  One of the Centaurs bows in our direction and says in a deep voice, “King Dagda and guests, welcome to our realm.”

  Guests? When did I get demoted from Princess and mediator to guest? Kallen lays a hand on my shoulder hoping to distract me enough that I won’t speak my thoughts out loud. It works. This time. But that metallic taste in my mouth is coming from where my teeth are biting my tongue.

  Dagda nods his head in the Centaur’s direction. He doesn’t bow. Kings don’t bow. “Thank you.”

  “King Bayard is expecting you,” the other Centaur tells him in a deep baritone and the half-horse, half-man turns and walks toward the barn at a pace that is probably irritatingly slow for him. He stops at the door and turns back to us. “The pets remain outside.”

  “The guy is half horse and he has the nerve to call us pets?” Taz grumbles. “Fur is fur.”

  “Taz, just stay out here for now,” I say to him. A thought hits me and I bend down as if to pet the two Tasmanian devils. Quietly, I say, “Look around, see what you find.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Felix says. He likes to be helpful. More so than the fat Tasmanian devil who groans, “Why do we have to do the dirty work? You have eyes.” I glare at him.

  “Come on, Goblin-made, we have work to do,” Felix says.

  “I didn’t sign up for this. You work. I’m going to find a place to take a nap.” I make a mental note to not let Tabitha give Taz bacon for a week.

  The inside of the building definitely does not look like a barn. It looks more like an office. There are small desks set up here and there and Fauns scurrying about looking busy. Our guide walks through them, not seeming to care if one is in its path. The Fauns must be used to this because they hurry out of the way as if it’s a normal thing. Yeah, being trampled if you don’t move is a normal thing. I’m beginning to believe I really did romanticize the Centaurs because of my dislike of the Sasquatch. And for god’s sake, can’t someone make the Fauns some pants?

  “They’re all males,” I note to Kallen.

  He gives me an irritated look. “Glad you noticed.”

  I roll my eyes. “I meant, where are the females?”

  “Females do not work outside their clan,” our guide informs me.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Xandra,” Dagda says between gritted teeth. “Let us focus on meeting our host.” And not asking antagonizing questions. Especially when the answers are certain to piss me off. Got it.

  Fine. I’m not here to change their apparently misogynistic society. I’m here to help end a war between realms. I’ll keep telling myself this. It would be a lot easier to put it out of mind, though, if someone would make the Fauns some pants. They’re kind of a constant reminder that women aren’t allowed to work here. I try to keep my gaze aimed at their faces.

  “How come they’re all naked?” Zac asks in a stage whisper. Garren, who is walking next to him chuckles. I think his main job on this trip is going to be babysitter for Zac.

  Tana, who is holding his hand, says, “Darling, children are meant to be seen, not heard.”

  “Well, that’s an antiquated idea,” I inform her.

  “Ladies, please,” Dagda hisses.

  Tana turns her face into a blank page. I haven’t acquired that ability yet. I’m sure my feelings are written all over my face. Regardless, I bite my tongue again so I don’t vocalize those feelings. This is going to be a long, long trip.

  All kinds of questions pop into my mind that I can’t ask at the moment. Questions about things that weren’t in the information I was given. For instance, do Centaurs poop whenever they feel like it like horses do? How do they bathe their hind quarters because I don’t think their arms are long enough to reach? Are horse flies a problem here? What about shoes, do they wear horseshoes? I glance at our guide’s feet and see they are metal free. One question answered. I’ll ask Kallen the rest of them in private. Though, I suppose if they let their bowels loose wherever they are, I’ll notice that long before we have private time.

  Our guide pushes through a set of swinging doors. Beyond is an area similar to the one we leave behind, but this time it is Centaurs behind the desks. Desks that are taller than me so the half-man, half-horses can use them comfortably. There is no scurrying in here and our guide has a friendly word for everyone.

  Pushing through another set of swinging doors, we come to what must be where the leaders of the realm meet. The room strongly resembles a coliseum. There are tiers of white marble wide enough for the Centaurs to stand upon. There are four levels that make a semi-circle around a podium and what seems to be a judge’s bench. It reminds me of the senate back home.

  There are several chairs in front of the lowest tier that must be for us. From what I’ve seen, the Centaurs behave as horses do in regards to sitting and lying down. They prefer to stand.

  There are several Centaurs already on the marble tiers. At the judge’s bench is a Centaur who looks so old he probably remembers the beginning of time. He probably could answer the Big Bang question. He has a long, white beard that reaches to his knee joint. The hair on his head is just as white but not quite as long. His flanks were probably a different color once, but whatever it was is long gone. There is no more pigment in his hair anywhere.

  The last of the Centaur are the four at the door, two on each side. One is our guide who took his spot as soon as we entered the room. All four of them have a long lance in their hand. Currently, the tips are pointed at the ceiling. Hopefully, they stay that way.

  The Sasquatch have either not arrived yet or they weren’t invited to this meeting. More Centaurs stream in but there is not a long haired Sasquatch in sight. I can’t say I’m disappointed.

  Once we’re seated, the old Centaur opens his mouth and I swear I see cobwebs blowing around in there. “You are the one who will bring peace to our land,” he croaks out. I barely restrain myself from looking around the room to see if he means someone else, but he’s staring right at me. Good thing there’s no pressure.

  “My daughter is here to help negotiate a peace treaty. It will be the work of the Centaurs and Sasquatch which will create lasting peace, Bayard,” Dagda clarifies. I appreciate him saying this.

  The Centaur Bayard is not quite as appreciative. He slams his hand down hard on the wood in front of him and his white tail is swishing in agitation. “No!” No? What does he mean ‘no’? “I have s
een it in the stars. The only path to peace is through her!” He jabs a decrepit finger in my direction.

  I don’t like the sound of that. Maybe I’m taking him a bit too literally, but I don’t want any type of path to run through me. I’m sure there would be some physical damage.

  Helpful as always, Garren says quietly, “The Centaurs are rarely wrong in their predictions.” I believe the old saying should be ‘Garren’s are meant to be seen, not heard.’

  A Centaur from the bottom tier leaves his place and walks to the bench. He speaks to Bayard in hushed tones. The old guy must still have his hearing in tact because we can’t hear a word the younger Centaur is saying and we’re only a few feet away.

  I remember this younger Centaur. He came to the Fairy realm to represent his people. I don’t remember his name, though. From the strong resemblance between him and Bayard, I’m pretty confident he is Bayard’s son. He must be the air to the throne but in the Fairy realm he was treated as if he was already King. Perhaps he is in every way other than holding the title. His father doesn’t seem like he could handle all the responsibilities anymore.

  After several long minutes, Bayard nods curtly and then brushes his son away. “Return,” he says, indicating the younger Centaur should once again take his place on the marble tier. Once his son has moved back in place, Bayard addresses us once again. “My son, Pholos, tells me you are too young and unfamiliar with our ways to understand our ability to read the stars.”

  Hey, I’m insulted now. “We study astronomy in the realm I was born.”

  “Astronomy? Bah,” Bayard croaks. “Looking at the stars and seeing them are two different things.”

  Trying hard not to roll my eyes, I mutter, “I’m not here for a science lesson.”

  “You belittle my words?” Bayard growls.

  Look at me off to such a great start at being diplomatic. “I just don’t understand the relationship between a peace treaty with the Sasquatch and the stars,” I explain. Hopefully I explained it nicely.

  Nope, must have been snarky. I know this because I am suddenly surrounded by four Centaurs and their long spears. Dagda sighs and Kallen growls deep in his throat. Me? I’m pissed now.