A Sacred Magic

by Yasmine Galenorn

  The drive to Navane took another twenty minutes. It was north of TirNaNog, and like the city of the Dark Fae, Navane, too, hid behind great walls of marble. Actually, there was little to discern the two cities. They seemed to mirror one another, both with great buildings that either seemed stuck in history, or reaching out to the future. The eclectic mix disconcerted me. Granted, a lot of cities mirrored that aspect, but the fusion seemed more pointed in the Fae cities.

  The colors of Navane, however, were shades of green, orange, yellow, and gold, and the energy felt a little less chaotic and more structured. But beneath the superficialities, the cities could almost be interchangeable. Yet both Light and Dark would swear up and down that they were the original, and their sister-city had ripped them off.

  I parked, once again, in the parking lot next to the eastern gates. I sat back, staring at the walls of the city. “This is going to be harder,” I said, turning to Raven.

  “Because of…?” she asked, looking out the window. “Damn, those walls are high.”

  “Yeah, you’d think they were fighting a battle. Oh wait, they are. This is going to be harder because my maternal grandmother—whom we are going to see—oversaw my mother’s death along with Farthing. They colluded to kill my parents.”

  Raven shook her head. “The Ante-Fae can be problematic at best, but at least with us, our treachery is out in the open most of the time. And while some parents and children don’t get along, it’s usually for all of the normal reasons—the child doesn’t live up to the parents’ standards, or they don’t agree on everything. I mean, look at my mother. Phasmoria left me when I was twelve. She’s not geared toward children, but she never tried to have me killed, she still checks in on me, and we get along fine, most of the time.”

  “Well, in the world of the Fae, it’s different. Status means so much to my people, and even if your status isn’t your fault, you pay the price. Half Fae of any kind are shunned, and those few like me—half Light and half Dark—we’re outright pariah. The only way I can walk through these gates, or the gates of TirNaNog, is because the queens left word to let me in. And if Morgana hadn’t pushed the point, even that wouldn’t have happened.” I leaned back, hands still on the wheel. “Granted, things worked out far better than I expected with Sharne, but I’m not banking on that happening twice.”

  Raven picked up her purse. “Come on. Let’s get this over with and then go have a drink. At least you got the bow.”

  “At least I have the bow, and damned if I don’t want to get to know it a bit better. That thing talked to me, Raven. I’d love to find out more about its history.”

  We headed toward the gates. This time, the guards were much more snide, and once again, no guide was waiting for me, but they let us through when they found my name on the list. Once again, I finally managed to hail a taxi, only it cost me double what it had in TirNaNog.

  “I’m beginning to think that the Light Fae are more snobbish than the Dark,” Raven said.

  “I’m think you’re right,” I whispered back. This time, the cab refused to wait, so we’d have to find another way back to the gates. But as we headed up the steps toward the house—it was a large house in a row of large houses—I paused. There was a sign on the door.

  “What the hell?” I scanned the notice.

  Under Order of the Militia of Navane, this building has been locked and sealed until an official investigation has been completed, and the Court has given permission for the building to be opened. Looters and vandals will be executed without trial.

  I stared at the paper. “What the hell? What’s going on?” I stared at the paper, wondering if I should try knocking. Or maybe I could manage to pick the locks. But the part about looters being executed gave me pause. I wasn’t really that anxious to find out whether they were bluffing.

  “You want to try to break in?” Raven asked, glancing nervously at the door.

  “Not so much, no.” I glanced around. There was nobody hanging around on the sidewalk. I thought about heading next door to ask what was going on, but I was pretty sure that any neighbors would probably take one look at me and slam the door. “What the… Hold on. I’m calling Morgana. Or rather, Herne.” I pulled out my phone and sat down on the porch steps. Raven sat beside me. I dialed Herne and two rings later, he answered.

  “Ember, what’s up? How’s it going?”

  “I got the bow, and a surprise to boot, with it. But dude… I’m sitting here on the steps of my grandmother’s house—the porch steps. There’s a notice plastered across the door warning that the house is sealed until an investigation can be done, and that looters and vandals will be executed without trial. Do you know what’s going on? Can you call Névé for me and see what’s happening? I’d go ask at the neighbors, but I’m not sure that would do any good, considering the circumstances.”

  Herne paused, then said, “I’m on it. Stay there, and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” He hung up.

  I turned to Raven. “He’s calling Névé.”

  “Good.” She paused, then asked, “How well do you know Kipa?”

  “Eh, somewhat. I don’t dare get too chummy with him or Herne would go ballistic. You do know about their past, right? That Kipa stole Herne’s fiancée many years back?”

  She blinked, then sighed. “Yeah, I thought it was something like that. I was wondering, though…I told you the neighbors moved out, right?”

  “Yes, and good riddance to human trash.”

  Raven’s neighbors had been part of the Human Liberation Army, a hate-based group. They had moved abruptly a couple weeks back, and Raven was gearing up to throw a celebratory dinner party because of it.

  “It turned out that Kipa bought them out. He offered them enough money so that they couldn’t refuse, and then offered them more if they would move that day. They took the cash and ran. Now, Meadow and Trefoil live there.”

  “Who are Meadow and Trefoil?”

  “Irish brother and sister. They’re part of LOCK. Apparently they’re demon hunters.”

  I stood as I saw a woman walking down the street, holding onto a leash. On the other end of the leash was a gorgeous Bengal tiger and it paused in front of the house, staring at us. I stared at the tiger, then at the woman, who was watching us, open mouthed. A moment later, she shook her head and headed out again.

  “Cripes, what the fuck?” Raven asked. “You don’t walk a tiger on a leash—that’s absolutely insulting.”

  “Some of the Fae are full of themselves. Not all of them. I may have a lot of disdain for my own people, but there are some very good, very caring members of the Fae community. But good gods, keeping a tiger as a pet? That’s just wrong.”

  As though she heard us, the woman paused by the end of the lot and turned back, returning to the sidewalk and heading up the walk toward us.

  “Oh shit, she’s gonna feed us to the beast,” Raven whispered, standing as the woman drew near.

  “I heard what you said about me. I thought maybe you’d like to know a little more about me, and my tiger here.” She was glaring at us, looking like she was about ready to jump down our throats.

  “Um…sure. What would you like to tell us?” I wasn’t one to pretend I hadn’t said something, or to try to get out of it when I had insulted them, but I couldn’t help but wonder just what she’d have to say about her tiger and why it was okay for her to own one as a pet.

  “This tiger’s my son. He’s a tiger shifter by nature, and he’s been trapped in this form for the past ten years.” She spat out the words as though by rote. “He was cursed by a witch on a trip to Annwn ten years ago and we’ve never found anybody to break the hex. So, I walk him because he needs exercise. And I take care of him because he’s so soft hearted he’d never survive out in the wild. And yes, damn it, I own a tiger—because he’s my son and I won’t just cast him out in the wild to die. So you want to say anything else about how irresponsible I am? Come on. I’m right here. Take your best shot.”

  I gr
oaned, sinking back onto the step. I felt like a first-class heel. “I am so sorry. I just assumed…” I paused, realizing what I was saying. I had just assumed she was an asshole like a lot of people assumed things about me.

  “Yes, you just assumed.” She paused, then hung her head. “You assumed that I was a careless, rich idiot. Like I would have assumed that you were less than nothing a decade ago, because you’re a tralaeth. But I’ve learned a lot about assumptions over the years. I hope you will, too. And I hope you won’t assume that everybody in this city will look at you and smirk.” She turned to go.

  “Wait,” Raven called out before I could. “What’s your name?”

  The woman turned around. “Honesty. My name’s Honesty, daughter of Verebas. I doubt you know who that is, but my mother’s name carries a lot of weight in this city. Mine no longer does.”

  I scooted over on the steps, motioning for Raven to make room. “Would you like to sit down? It’s not raining, at least.” I was grateful for that much. If we had to wait on the steps, at least we weren’t getting soaked.

  “What are you doing here?” Honesty glanced up at the house, frowning. “Nobody’s supposed to bother a crime scene.”

  I blinked. “Crime scene?”

  “Yes, didn’t you hear? The woman who lived here was murdered last night.”

  Once again, I felt like I had been slugged. Just then, my phone rang. It was Herne. “Can you excuse me for a moment? I have to take this.” I walked down into the yard, a few yards away from Raven and Honesty. They were chatting, Raven keeping her talking so that I could have privacy.

  “Herne? I just found out something—”

  “Your grandmother was murdered, Ember. I’m sorry to have to tell you over the phone, but Névé didn’t have the time to call you this morning and warn you off.”

  “I know,” I broke in. “I just found out. But that’s all I know. What happened? What about the crown?” I knew that sounded callous but the facts were that the visit probably wouldn’t have gone well at all.

  “Nobody knows who’s to blame. Névé said that if they find the crown in her effects, they’ll make sure you get it. But it looks as though someone broke into the house, overpowered two of the servants—they were killed, too—and then stabbed your grandmother. She died instantly, the medical examiners told Névé. There’s no way she could have remained alive with…the savagery of those wounds,” Herne finished slowly. “Again, I’m sorry.”

  “No, that’s all right,” I said, feeling hoarse. “We’ll leave, then. I don’t want to attract any more undue attention. When I get back to the office, I’d like to speak to Névé and find out everything I can. I’ll call you when I get home.” I turned to Raven and Honesty, who were having what looked like an intense conversation.

  “I think we’d better leave,” I told Raven. “She’s right. My grandmother was murdered, along with two of her servants.”

  Raven eyed me carefully. “Are you all right?”

  “Grandmother?” Honesty asked, staring at me like I was the one walking a tiger. “Lady Tealique was your grandmother?”

  I shrugged, staring up at the silent house. “Doesn’t matter. We never met. She helped kill my mother and father. I just… I had some unfinished business with her.”

  Honesty stood, giving me a nervous look. “Unfinished business of what kind?” She was edging her way down the steps and I realized how that could sound.

  “I didn’t kill her. Don’t worry yourself over that. But…there have been times I prayed for her death. I’ll admit that freely. No, I had something I needed to ask her. But, you know, I doubt she would have answered.” I turned to Raven. “Let’s go. It’s going to start raining again, and I want to get the hell out of here and go home.”

  Raven nodded, silently crossing to stand beside me.

  Honesty paused. She twisted her lip, as though she wanted to say something, then finally summoned up what I imagined was a buttload of courage, considering the situation.

  “I’m sorry about your parents. I’m sorry about your grandmother. She was a decent neighbor, though she seldom had anything to say to anyone. She kept to herself a great deal.”

  I held her gaze for a moment. “Do you mind giving me your phone number? I may have some questions, later on, about her. If you…” I paused. “Never mind, I have no right to ask and you don’t owe me anything.”

  “That’s not a problem,” Honesty said, pulling out a card from her pocket. “Here’s my business card. My number’s on the back. Feel free to call me. Nice to meet you, and you, too, Raven.” She gave us a half wave and, taking up the leash on the tiger—her son—again, she headed down the sidewalk and out onto the street.

  I turned to Raven. “I’m not at all sure what to think,” I said. “This has been one of the oddest days of my life.”

  “I can imagine,” Raven said. “Let’s hail a cab and get the fuck out of this town. It gives me the creeps.” She looped her arm through my elbow and we walked away from the house. We ended up walking half a mile before a taxi would stop for us, and we kept silent the entire way back to the gates of Navane. When we reached my car, Raven took my keys from me as I pulled them out.

  “You’ve had enough shocks for today. I’ll drive. I still think we should stop somewhere and get a drink and eat dinner.” She motioned for me to get in the passenger seat.

  I slid in and fastened my seat belt. “I don’t feel up to going out to a restaurant, but Angel and I have a good selection of wine at home. So if you want to come over, you can crash in the guest room and we can get shit-faced drunk.”

  “Let me call Kipa and ask him if he can feed Raj,” she said. A moment later she was talking to the Lord of the Wolves. “Babe, can you feed Raj for me? I’m staying at Ember’s tonight. She’s had a bit of a shock today and I—never mind what. I’ll tell you later. We’re going to drink wine and watch stupid TV and basically get shit-faced… Right… Do not give him more than two cans. He’ll get fat if you keep spoiling him—oh, all right. Whatever.” She paused, then snorted. “Yeah, I can guess just how you’ll be thinking of me.” She hung up and started the car.

  “We’re good to go. Let’s go to your house and drink and watch TV and eat pizza and cookies, and forget about what an incredibly weird day this has been.” And with that, Raven eased my car out onto the road and we headed back to Seattle.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning, I could barely pry my eyes open. I groaned, trying to sit up, and realized that I was sprawled on the floor in the living room, still in my clothes. But I wasn’t the only one. Raven was snoring, pretzeled in the overstuffed armchair, and Angel was stretched out on the sofa, a thin line of spittle trickling down her chin. There was a smell of stale…something…in the air. It smelled like stale booze, I thought. As I rolled up to a sitting position, I squinted as a beam of light splashed through the window, striking me. The morning had broken with clear sky and the sunlight instantly gave me a headache.

  Grunting, I managed to push myself up to where I was propped against the side of the sofa. Mr. Rumblebutt came meandering into the living room and he paused, staring at me with a scathing look as he let out an earsplitting meow.

  I glanced at the clock. It was eleven a.m., well past his breakfast time. At that moment, my phone rang. It was on the coffee table. I crawled over to it, surprised that neither Angel nor Raven had woken up yet. As I slid the phone off the table, glancing at the caller ID, I saw that it was Herne and everything came flooding back to me.

  Crap! It was Monday, and Angel and I were late for work. I quickly brought the phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” My throat felt like I had chewed on gravel all evening, and my voice reflected it.

  “Where the hell are you and Angel? I was just about ready to come looking for you.” Herne sounded pissed.

  “I’m sitting on my living room floor. Angel and Raven and I apparently decided to have a party last night. I just woke up, and they’re still asleep.” The r
oom started to spin, and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I wanted nothing more than to sleep it off.

  “Morgana will be here at one p.m. She expects to see you here. Therefore, I expect you here by twelve-thirty. I don’t care if you have to take a cab here. Do you understand? No excuses.” He paused, then said, “I love you. Now, get your ass down here.”

  As he hung up, I tossed my phone back on the table, missing it. It landed on the floor. As I leaned forward to pick it up, my head swam again. I managed to stagger to my feet, and leaned over Angel, shaking her shoulder.

  “Hey, we’re late for work and Herne just called. He’s pissed out of his mind. Wake up.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she groaned as well. “What do you want? Let me sleep.”

  “No can do. Herne is waiting for us, and we’re three hours late for work as it is. Morgana is going to be there by one, and we have to be there, too.”

  Angel sat up like she’d been shot. “Oh fuck. I can’t believe we did that.”

  She pointed to the coffee table, and I followed her finger. There, sitting on the end of it, were four empty champagne bottles. But it wasn’t just any ordinary champagne. No, it was Mountain Kingdom champagne, and we had bought it from Ginty’s waystation bar. It was made by the dwarves, and they had constitutions like a rock.

  “No wonder we’re so plastered. I’m going to make myself a quint shot mocha, and then I’ll take a quick shower. I suppose we should eat something.” I paused, expecting the thought of food to make me feel sick. But it didn’t. My head was spinning and I felt like I had sand for brains, but my stomach felt relatively okay. It must be the brand of champagne, I thought.