by J. S. Malcom
A pause follows as I dig my nails into my palms.
Then the guide says, “In your plane, Lauren Flannery knew him as Grayson. ”
CHAPTER 20
Our necromancy session ended not long after the creepy spirit guide dropped that bomb about Grayson. That was as far as we got before it communicated to Phoenix that it had to leave. Apparently, it had places to go and dead people to meet. Or maybe it was just getting bored. I don’t know, because it didn’t offer an explanation. Then it was gone and we were on our own again. Frankly, it came as a relief. After that, we shared what we knew with Autumn and Isabel. After hours of group speculation, this is the scenario we came up with:
Lauren never knew her son, nor did she name him. The name, Silas, must have been bestowed upon him by a nurse or orphanage administrator. He must never have been adopted, and at some point ended up institutionalized for suffering from delusions. Although, of course, those weren’t delusions. Silas was coming into his magic.
As for Lauren Flannery, we already knew that she later fell in love with Grayson. Apparently, she decided there shouldn’t be any secrets between them. So, she confided in him about the baby she’d once given up for adoption. Presumably, Grayson hadn’t seemed concerned with her past.
Of course, Grayson wasn’t really Grayson. He was Vintain, to whom that kind of information was like striking gold. At some point, he must have tracked Silas down. How, we have no idea, but presumably by means of magic. After all, he was a mage, one whose primary mission had become tracking down veil witches. From there, we guessed he must have become involved in Silas’s life. To what extent, we just couldn’t say. But we supposed it didn’t really matter, other than the fact that some sort of connection was established.
As for what Silas told Maggie—that he’d met Vintain while traveling—who can say what that really meant? Cryptic, to say the least. The way we figured it, he probably just used that as a ploy to gain her trust. It worked, apparently, since he ended up with his mother's Book of Shadows. Why he wanted it is unclear. Sentimentality, or simple curiosity; both occurred to us. Then again, that book might have been just a loose end that Vintain wanted gone. After all, it offered proof that he'd recently appeared here as a changeling. Why leave that lying around if he didn't have to?
Were we wrong about anything? Probably yes, but that was the best we could come up with. And it definitely didn’t hurt to have a psychic in the room.
By the time we’re done talking, it’s almost two. We’re finishing the lunch Isabel insists on providing before we drive back. Still, two questions linger. Have we gotten any closer to saving Bethany, or to proving Autumn innocent? The fact is, I think so, in that at least we know what we’re up against. Well, technically, what I’m up against. I realize it’s their fight too, but right now Autumn has no magic and I’m just not sure about bringing the others to Faerie, which is where I need to go next. I suspect I could bring them, now that Seelie no longer control the magic. I’m just not sure it’s a good idea. At least, not until we know more.
I’m just finishing helping with the dishes, when Phoenix comes up beside me at the sink. He nods toward the back door and speaks softly. “Got time to take a walk?”
Our eyes meet and I can see that he wants to talk. I dry my hands and turn to where Isabel, Autumn and Julia hover at the table. “Guys, we’ll be back in a bit,” I say.
Soon, Phoenix and I stroll past the barns and onto a path leading toward the orchard. The afternoon sun shines through the leafless branches of apple, pear and cherry trees.
“So, I’ve been thinking,” Phoenix says.
I expect him to add more, but he doesn’t. “Yeah?”
He chuckles. “Sorry. Not sure how to phrase it exactly, but I’m thinking, either way, we’re going to be in each other’s lives.”
I’d definitely like him to add more there too, but he leaves me hanging again. I give him a soft nudge with my elbow. “It does seem to keep going that way.”
He cracks a grin. “Exactly. I guess what I’m saying is, I’m not sure what the future is going to bring. We need to get past this part first.”
He’s totally right, of course. At one point, I didn’t doubt we had a future together. That still might be, but for now everything is on hold. “True enough,” I say. “So what’s on your mind?”
He glances over at me, his eyes meeting mine as we continue walking. “That maybe I should tell you what happened. Unless you don’t care, of course.”
I know immediately what he means. And, yes, I still care. “I’ve kind of wondered a few times,” I admit. As in I obsessed over it for a while, the image of him kissing that girl somehow burned onto my retina.
“So, here’s the deal,” Phoenix says. “When you said you needed some time, I wasn’t worried about it. At least, I understood. You'd been through a lot, and I figured you needed to process things.”
“That’s true, I did,” I say, and it really is the truth. So much had happened so fast that I could barely think.
“But then you stopped calling, or answering texts. So, I figured I should probably move on.”
I stopped answering texts? Wow, that’s just not okay. “Sorry,” I say. “I was sort of going through a strange time.”
Then again, when am I not?
Phoenix shrugs. “I know. You were just moving into your new place and you’d never really been on your own before. You went from being a kid, to living inside Julia’s body, to suddenly being an adult living at your mother’s house. You needed time to think. I get that.”
What’s funny is that I never told him any of that. He just somehow knew what I was going through. “Sorry,” I say again.
“Don’t be,” Phoenix says. “That’s not what this is about. But I’m not going to lie. I was trying to forget you, since I figured that had to happen. And that’s when Theresa called.” Before I can ask, he adds, “An old girlfriend. She lives up north now, but her family is still here. Anyway, she was someone I used to care for. I still do. Just not like that, as it turns out.”
I turn to search his face. “Was that the moment I saw?”
Phoenix nods. “Yeah. To be honest, I was hoping I’d feel differently, but I knew as soon as we kissed. Of course, it probably didn’t help that you were driving by staring at us.”
A grin spreads across his face and I have to laugh. Phoenix laughs too.
“Looking back, I probably should have called first,” I say.
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t going to work out anyway. You being there just kind of hammered the point home.”
We’re past the orchard, approaching a creek that cuts through the property. Light glimmers off the rippling water. For a few moments, we walk in silence.
Then Phoenix says, “Anyway, I figured I should probably tell you.”
“Thanks,” I say softly.
What’s strange is that, before, I felt like the wronged party, but it doesn’t look that way now. I may not have exactly broken up with Phoenix, but I definitely left him hanging. Then I went on to have a relationship with Esras. Was I just trying to forget about seeing Phoenix with that girl? At the time, maybe, but it runs deeper than that, I know. I got scared and I ran. Then I did it again.
I figure it’s cards on the table time. After all, Phoenix came clean with me.
“I sort of met someone,” I say.
Phoenix just nods. “I kind of figured. Was it in Faerie?”
And there I was thinking I’m hard to read, a girl full of mystery and secrets, when it’s probably been written all over my face. “Yes,” I say. “But I don’t think it could work out.”
“Do you love him?”
The question takes me by surprise, partly because of the way he asks. There’s no anger in his voice, or resentment. It’s just an honest question between friends.
So I give him an honest answer. “I’m not sure.”
And maybe the rest goes without saying, but it’s there all the same, because I didn’t
say no. Somehow, I know that Phoenix gets it. The fact is, I love them both, but I’m not sure either can happen. Not until I figure out who I am. And if I never do?
Phoenix reaches for my hand just like he used to, without demand or expectation. Just an offer of comfort. So I wrap my hand around his, as a cool breeze blows past and the sun paints the fields with golden light.
“Love makes witchcraft seem simple,” Phoenix says.
I sigh and lean into him, touching my head to his shoulder. Then we keep walking, both of us sad and still holding onto each other.
CHAPTER 21
Cade and I stride down the cobblestone street toward the palace, once home to High Queen Abarrane and her High Mage Vintain, now inhabited by Faerie’s interim leaders, Esras and Revlen. Thanks to the time difference between the two realms, it’s late afternoon here when it was evening back home. It’s also spring to our winter, the sun fairly high in the sky. That’s part of why I decided to come right away, rather than wait until morning. That and the fact that I couldn’t have possibly slept.
Cade, on the other hand wasn’t nearly as eager. In fact, his pub was full when I showed up out of nowhere to yank him out of there. The result being that he’s been grumbling the entire time we’ve been walking.
That grumbling continues as we approach the main gates. “We should have sent a messenger first. What if they’re not here?”
“They run this place now. Where else would they be?”
My half-baked logic doesn't quite work for Cade. “This is crazy,” he says. “Vintain is in prison. Which you know, because you helped put him there.”
It’s not the first time he’s made this point and, of course, he’s right. I have no idea how Vintain is influencing Silas’s actions, but I know that he is somehow. Without Vintain being involved, nothing Silas has done makes any sense. On the other hand, factor Vintain into the picture and things start to connect. Maybe not all of them, but it definitely explains why a veil witch we never met before would suddenly come after us. This is at least partly personal, which is what we’ve strongly suspected from the moment Bethany went missing.
“I never said he wasn’t in prison,” I repeat for at least the fifth time. “I just said he’s part of it.”
Cade sighs, puffing to keep up with me. I guess those vampire workouts must be paying off. “You can see where I might find that a little confusing.”
“Good to know I’m not alone.”
Reaching the gates, we stop walking, although I’m surprised to see them open.
Cade notices my puzzled expression. “Yeah, that part’s been changed. Sort of a symbolic gesture, now that there’s no threat to the realm.”
“That’s nice,” I say, and it is nice that the people of Faerie no longer feel cut off from their leaders. At that same time, I can’t get past the feeling that the realm isn’t yet out of danger.
We watch as one of the guards rides up on her horse. She’s a big woman, with a hawk perched on one of her shoulders. Gone is the uniform of the Royal Guard. She wears a plain tunic, leather leggings and high boots. She doesn’t reach for her sword as she brings her horse to a stop before us. “Hello, friends,” she says. “How can I help you?”
“We came to speak with Esras and Revlen,” Cade says.
Her gaze shifts from me to Cade and then back to me. Her eyes widen with recognition. “Of course,” she says. “I’ll tell them that Cassie the Fae Witch has arrived.” She shakes her head, as if to get over her shock at seeing me, then turns her attention back to Cade. “And you are?”
Cade frowns, planting his hands on his hips. “I’m Cade,” he says. “I fought for the rebel cause.”
The guard tilts her head, as if trying to place his face. Apparently, that doesn’t happen. “Of course, sir. Cade, is it?”
Cade speaks through gritted teeth. “Yes, Cade.”
I cover my mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, as the guard whispers to her hawk. Then the hawk looks directly at me and caws out, “Cassie the Fae Witch!”
I stare back, shocked, until I make the connection. It must be lingualawk. Right, it’s time to recalibrate. I’m back in Faerie again.
The bird swivels its head toward Cade. “Name?”
The guard whispers to her hawk again. “Cade, apparently.”
“Cade?” the hawk says.
“Yes, Cade,” the guard whispers. “Now go.”
The hawk launches off her shoulder and shoots through the air toward the upper level of the palace, where it disappears behind the ornate roofline. Damn, those birds are cool, but these guys really should put in some cell towers.
The guard turns to me again. “It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
Meanwhile, Cade shuffles and mutters under his breath. “Geez, I was only the guy who snuck us into the palace to begin with.”
I pat him on the shoulder and speak softly. “Yes, you did.”
“The freaking hawk didn’t even recognize me.”
“It’s just a bird,” I whisper, trying to make him feel better.
“Lingualawks often test at an IQ score over one-twenty,” Cade says.
“Oh.” I try not to laugh, but can’t stop it from bubbling up inside me.
“Shut up,” Cade says, which seals the deal. I stare at the ground, my shoulders convulsing.
“Not funny,” Cade says.
I snort again, refusing to look at him.
“I’m going to get you for this,” Cade whispers, guaranteeing that I lose my shit.
I keep laughing and staring down until I hear the guard’s voice again.
“Please follow me.”
In the moments that passed, she dismounted from her horse, which trots off as if it knows exactly where it’s going. Of course it does. On top of that, the lingualawk is already back on her shoulder. Wow, that was fast. There I was thinking they’d be better off texting.
As we follow the guard toward the doors of the palace, I do my best to think happy thoughts. I try to concentrate on memories of Cade and Dabria’s wedding, which marked the last time I came here. Still, this place evokes much darker memories for me. Memories that insist on making themselves known. I remember Cade and I thinking we’d rescued Ellie Kaminski, only to end up captured. I remember waking up from Vintain’s spell to find myself sitting across from him, his ice cold eyes staring into mine. I relive refusing to help him, and how Queen Abarrane used her magic to string me up like a puppet. She flayed my consciousness as she bored into the deepest recesses of my mind, searching for the incantation she’d sought for so long. My pulse starts to escalate, sweat building on my brow, while the world feels like it’s closing in around me.
Then the palace doors swing inward, opened by two more guards, and my anxieties dissipate. Esras stands in the foyer, his eyes meeting mine as a smile spreads across his lips. Poised and regal as always, he acknowledges both of us. “Well, to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Cade gestures my way. “Her,” he says in a grumpy tone.
Okay, so the damned bird didn’t recognize him. “Get over it,” I say.
Cade ignores me, speaking to Esras instead. “You might want to talk to your guard. She had no idea who I am.”
Esras’s cheeks flush a little, as he points to a spot on the wall holding a row of paintings. “Yours is coming soon, I promise.”
Oh, great. He means well, but that only makes things worse. The wall holds portraits of those who fought to bring down the Seelie regime. Esras included, of course, along with Revlen and her right-hand men. I’m there too, with a blank space beside me, presumably meant for Cade.
Cade raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“By next month, I promise,” Esras says. “The painter had to take a week off.”
Okay, skip the cell towers guys. But at least get a camera?
“We need to talk,” I say.
Esras’s eyes return to mine. “I assumed so. Please.”
He gestures to a winding staircase an
d we follow him up to find Revlen waiting on the landing. Like Esras and the guard, she too keeps a sword at her hip. I think of something Esras and I once discussed, how at one time the battles of Faerie were fought with magic. Then that magic came to be possessed by just the few, who in the end were defeated when that magic escaped them. I suspect it will be a while before those of Faerie rely on magic as their primary defense, if in fact they ever do again.
Revlen regards us with her one golden eye, a black eyepatch covering the one she lost. “This way,” she says.
Down to business, as always. Revlen is not a woman to mess around. As a group, we follow her down the hall and through a set of doors to enter a meeting room. It’s an expansive space, with tapestries upon the walls and tall arched windows, but its function is made evident by the fact it holds just one long table surrounded by chairs. Revlen takes a seat and we do the same, the four of us grouped at the tip of a table meant to accommodate many more.
“What’s going on?” Revlen says.
Since she’s getting right to the point, I do the same. “Vintain,” I say. “That’s what’s going on.”
Revlen shakes her head, her eyes cutting to Esras before returning to mine. “I don’t understand.”
She thinks I’m crazy, I can tell, and I don’t blame her. “Neither do I,” I say, “but that’s why I’m here. Bad things keep happening and he has something to do with it.”
Understandably, an awkward silence follows. I expected about the same.
On the surface, my claim seems ridiculous, but I already know that. So, I plow forth anyway. I tell them about how my magic first failed me at Martha Sanders’ house, and how we soon discovered that mirror holding Bethany’s image. I tell them about the demon activity, the missing witches, the hostile coven meeting, and the magical forces I went up against to save Wendy. I tell them about the murdered vampires, the accusation upon my sister, working with Nora and how we witnessed the Shared Feast. And, of course, I tell them about Silas, as I place the cherry on top of my nightmare sundae.
