Hidden Crown

by Emma L. Adams

  “Perhaps we need to work on training your ability to resist faerie music,” he said.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” I muttered under my breath.

  Worse than the band was the wooded grove on the left side of the house, accessed through a curtain of ivy. Sensual energy filled the air every time the curtains parted, awakening animal instincts in anyone who went too close. As we passed by, a trickle of magic streamed from the grove and slid down my body like a lover’s caress. My hands itched to pull the curtain of ivy aside, but that was a bad idea. Last time I’d taken in one breath of magic inside the grove, I’d ended up with a Sidhe’s tongue down my throat while a bunch of wraiths had damn near torn the house to shreds.

  Despite that, I couldn’t resist stealing a peek at Darrow, whose aquamarine eyes had brightened even more than usual. He absently ran his fingers over the binding mark on his wrist, sparking a tingle of magic in my own mark. Whoa, there. I stepped away from the grove, weaving towards the back of the room in the hope of shaking off the irrational urge to press my marked wrist against his.

  At the very back of the hall, a large tree had fused with the wall, its roots snaking beneath the marble floor.

  “There used to be a secret tunnel there,” Darrow said. “But it was recently rebuilt after someone sneaked in and tried to blow up the place.”

  “Seriously?” I scanned the tree for hidden passages, and a series of soft moans came from behind a tangle of tree roots. “I think we’re interrupting something.”

  Sure enough, two Sidhe lay wrapped around one another, their talismans discarded nearby. Inspiration struck, and a grin sprang to my mouth.

  Someone in here had a security talisman which allowed access to the Erlking’s territory, and I intended to ‘borrow’ it.

  I stepped away from the tree. “I’m going to get a drink.”

  I left Darrow to continue circling the room and went to the nearest hobgoblin, taking a wine glass from him. Then I ducked behind a statue and pulled on a glamour, making my ears pointier, my face more angular, my hair darker. Lastly, I conjured up a large flowery wreath to hide the circlet on my head. It didn’t make me any less conspicuous, but with any luck, Darrow wouldn’t look in my direction while I did what I needed to do.

  One of the Sidhe who’d been entangled in the tree roots staggered towards me. “You’re human, aren’t you? I was looking for a human to join us.”

  Ew. I took a step back. “Not today, thanks.”

  “You have unusual skill with glamour for a human,” he said in a slurred voice. “Lord Niall says a human got through those tunnels once before.”

  “Oh, really?” I resisted the impulse to lean back out of reach of his wine-soaked breath. “Isn’t someone supposed to be on security tonight? Someone, perhaps, with a special talisman?”

  He chuckled. “Lord Farin is supposed to be watching the tunnel, but he's being very bad.”

  I leaned closer. “Is he? Won't you tell me where he is, so I can tell him how very bad he's being?”

  “I’ll tell you if I can have a kiss.”

  Double ew. I pressed my lips to his cheek, fighting a shudder. “Done.”

  He chuckled. “Clever mortal. Lord Farin is by the wine, sleeping. He’ll be punished for this, make no mistake.”

  “Thank you.” I took him by the arm and steered him back to the tree. He tripped over a root, curled up and went to sleep. Honestly.

  I glanced over at Darrow, who’d continued on his path around the room’s edge. Certain he hadn’t spotted me, I veered towards the wine barrel, and the guard the Sidhe had pointed out. This Lord Farin appeared to be asleep on his feet, his dagger hanging loosely at his side.

  I shuffled in front of his gaze, noting his eyes were half-lidded. Still awake—just.

  “Hey, handsome,” I purred. “You wouldn’t let me get a little peek at your talisman, wouldn’t you?”

  “Talisman.” His hand twitched towards his thigh, and a faint glow came from a sheath strapped beneath his cloak. “No. I’m not allowed to let anyone touch it.”

  “Pity.” I held out my wine glass. “Can you hang onto that for me?”

  He snored, his eyes closing, but he gripped the wine glass by his fingertips. My hand brushed the hem of his cloak in search of the sheath. He was also naked underneath, so I’d have to be careful not to grab the wrong—ahem—sword.

  Carefully, I slid out the talisman and palmed it, stepping behind a bush to slide it into my cleavage. Then I shook off my glamour and turned human again, stopping by a passing hobgoblin to snag a glass of elf wine before taking a shortcut around a glittering fountain to catch up with Darrow.

  He tilted his head as I caught up, his expression tight with disapproval. What? Sidhe hooked up at their revels all the time, and I wouldn’t judge him if he’d slipped into a corner for a quickie. Okay, maybe a little, because it bothered me to picture him with another Sidhe for reasons I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  Whatever. I had the security talisman, and I’d have liked to think I’d do a better job keeping hold of it than the moron who’d fallen asleep on duty. “What’s the problem?”

  “You’re supposed to be watching for trouble,” he said. “The Sidhe can see right through your glamour. They know you’re human. If you pursue them, they’ll think…”

  “They’ll think what?” I gave him a challenging look. “They’ll think I’m easy to manipulate? Inferior? Weak? Name one person in this room who doesn’t already think that.”

  “You aren’t weak.”

  “That’s high praise coming from you.” I sipped from my wine glass, the tart sweetness of elf wine bursting across my tongue. “What is your problem with me? Why do I get under your skin so much?”

  Fresh from my victory with the talisman, I was in the mood to try for a second achievement of the night. Namely, figuring out what made my mentor tick. Something about him intrigued the hell out of me, and it went deeper than the mystery of where his loyalties really lay.

  When he didn’t answer, I said, “Is it because I say what I mean? You’d think it’d be a change from all the back-stabbing manipulators in here. At least I tell you outright when I don’t like you.”

  “You don’t like me.”

  “I don’t get you,” I said. “Not the same thing. What were you expecting the Gatekeeper to be like, then? Older? More serious? Because Mum is both of those things.”

  “I know,” he said. “Now I’ve met her. I can tell she would be very different to work with. She taught you how to fight?”

  “She did,” I said. “As for why her personality didn’t brush off on me, my sister always said my grandma’s rebelliousness skipped a generation. She gave the Sidhe a fair bit of trouble in her day. More than me, if possible.”

  “I’m having a little trouble believing that.”

  “Oi.” I’d hoped for him to drop a hint or two about his own family, but he didn’t. “She even stuck around as a ghost after she died just to annoy the shit out of our family. That takes dedication.”

  He blinked. “She was a ghost? Is that… normal, in the human world?”

  Aha. I’d piqued his curiosity. “No, but maybe a few resident ghosts would help the Sidhe get used to death being an inevitability. It’ll make life so much easier for them. As long as no more monarchs get assassinated, anyway.”

  He shot an alarmed look across the hall, and I hid a smile. “Chill, Darrow. They can’t hear us. I think most of them have forgotten they’re at a funeral at all.”

  One glance told me a Sidhe had already passed out in the wine barrel, and the others simply moved him out of the way whenever they wanted a drink. It seemed Mum’s comment about the Sidhe learning to cherish their lives now they were capable of being cut short was slightly off the mark.

  “Who taught you, then?” I asked. “To use glamour, I mean?”

  Instead of answering, he continued his circuit of the hall. “You talk a lot, did you know?”

  I gave hi
m a mock-wounded look. “No. That really hurt my feelings.”

  A smile flickered across his mouth, almost too quick to place. “I doubt you’re so easily hurt, Hazel.”

  “See, you can call me by my name. It’s not that hard.” I also liked hearing my name from his mouth. Though that might be the effects of the sensual magic whispering from the grove as we drew nearer to the west side of the room. “Better than ‘Gatekeeper’, ‘human’ or ‘mortal’. Or just ‘Lynn’.”

  “Lynn,” he repeated. “You took your mother’s surname.”

  “Of course I did,” I said. “Granted, the Sidhe would have been able to track me down even if I didn’t. Bloodline curses are fun like that.”

  “Bloodline curses?” His eyes widened a fraction. “You mean, being Gatekeeper?”

  “I thought you knew.” I frowned. “Everyone knows the Gatekeeper position runs in the family. We’re not immortal, so…”

  “So the newest Gatekeeper is chosen from among the children of the previous one.”

  “Yes,” I said. “The vow doesn’t discriminate. We all had an equal shot of being chosen. Why?”

  Darrow didn’t answer. We’d reached the grove, where curtains of ivy separated the forest from the main room, and Sidhe traipsed in and out in various stages of undress. I grinned as Lord Niall staggered past and fell headfirst into a flowerbed.

  “Big surprise.” I snickered. “The master of revels has lost his clothes again. Better hope there aren’t any fire imps in that bush.”

  Magic trickled out from the grove, sliding across my skin, tightening my core. My breasts peaked under my dress, and I became acutely aware of the stolen security talisman nestled in my cleavage. Hope it doesn’t start glowing. That’d be awkward.

  Music drifted overhead, and I found my legs jerking into motion again. I caught Darrow’s arm and tried to get him to spin me into a dance, but instead, he snagged the wine glass by his fingertips. “Watch out, or it’ll spill.”

  “That’d be a shame.” I giggled. Fuck, that wine was strong. “You need to loosen up a little, you know.”

  He frowned. “How much did you drink?”

  “Like this much.” I measured a small amount between my fingertips. I hadn’t tasted anything odd, but the sheer volume of magic in the air was bound to have some other side effects. My body continued to sway in time to the music, and Darrow kept hold of my arm as though worried I’d disappear if he let me go. Magic shone from his gaze, mingling with the spell the grove wove around us, highlighting his silver hair. “Has anyone ever mentioned you look like a god?”

  “Hazel.”

  A thrill went through me. “Say my name again.”

  Shit. I didn’t say that out loud, did I? Darrow was as smoking hot as any of the Sidhe, but he was also my mentor, and… why was this a bad idea again?

  He leaned in closer, his eyes brighter, his pupils dilated. “That’s not appropriate.”

  “Says the guy who thinks standing stiffly against a wall at a party is appropriate.” I tilted my head, hearing the hitch of his breath as my fingers peeled his hand from my arm. Magic crept down my wrist, igniting the bond that linked us, and my heartbeat quickened. “You aren’t worried I’m not taking my position seriously, are you? You’re more concerned that I might distract you from yours.”

  “I’m not as easily as distracted as you think.” While I hadn’t released his hand, he made no effort to free himself from my grip. His eyes were bright with magic, both Winter and Summer. Magic that hummed along the surface of my skin and through every pulse of blood in my veins. Drawn to him. To his scent of oak and ash, frost and flame.

  A deeply buried part of me, somewhere far below the surface, craved this. The part of me who understood how humans could step into a faerie circle, venture into the woods after dark, fall under a spell as easily as slipping under the surface of a lake.

  The part of me who wanted to give in, and dance.

  I entwined my hands around his neck, and whispered, “Prove it.”

  He brought his mouth down on mine. Magic sparked and hummed between us, an electric current that blanked my thoughts until I became nothing more than pure, primal need. I wound my body around his, fisting my hand in the soft strands of his hair. He made an inhuman noise deep in his throat, and the part of me that wanted answers threatened to disappear beneath a torrent of desire, the need to take him down in those bushes and show him I’d earned every inch of my so-called reputation.

  His lips broke from mine, and an oath escaped, whispered under his breath. “Hazel. Stop.”

  “What if I don’t want to?” A voice screamed in the back of my mind, but our skin was fused, and a potent cocktail of magic and lust ignited every cell in my body. “What if you don’t want to?”

  A voice in the back of my head screamed that hooking up with him was a monumentally terrible idea, but along with that jolt of common sense came a whisper of curiosity. I’d come here intending get some answers, after all.

  I licked my lips, then leaned forward to murmur in his ear, “So. About your Court—”

  A dazzling flash of light engulfed the room, and I caught Darrow’s arm for balance, blinking the glare from my eyes. When the light cleared, a group of cloaked faeries gathered in the midst of the guests, and the band’s music stuttered to an abrupt halt.

  “The king will rise!” cried one of the cloaked newcomers. “While he waits to return, you mock him by celebrating his death!”

  Screams drifted over from the courtyard on the east of the room. I gave Darrow a look to tell him to deal with the group of idiots here—they were far outnumbered, so he could handle it—and ran for the courtyard. The shouts grew louder, and when I reached the back of the crowd, I saw precisely why they were screaming.

  On the stage, the Erlking stood among the ruins of the band’s instruments, watching the audience of captive Sidhe.

  16

  “You have betrayed my Court,” said the Erlking. “Bow before me.”

  Magic rippled out from the words, spoken in a language that wasn’t English and wasn’t fae either. The Sidhe dropped to their knees, and an unbearable pressure on my upper back forced my own knees to touch the earth, my head bowing. He’d spoken an Invocation, and when the Sidhe used the language that had belonged to their gods, those words took literal form.

  “No!” a Sidhe cried out. “Please forgive us.”

  “Forgive us all!”

  Good lord. “It’s just a glamour.” I forced my head upright, fighting the lingering effects of the magic. “He doesn’t even sound like the Erlking, Any Sidhe can speak an Invocation.”

  But none of the Sidhe here had actually met the Erlking in person, and they were too freaked out by his sudden appearance to care about the details. It was amazing how quickly their impeccable coordination and grace disappeared when they were scared. Some fled, while others threw themselves at the feet of the man pretending to be their king. Snarls and yells mingled together as several Sidhe shapeshifted into animals in their panic.

  “That’s not your king!” I shouted, but the clamour drowned my voice.

  The person who’d conjured the illusion must be among the guests, but the sheer volume of magic in the air made it impossible to track its source. Gritting my teeth, I pushed between two Sidhe, wincing when their thorny coats snagged my bare arms, and scanned the crowd for a face that didn’t show panic.

  A hooded figure at the side of the stage stood out to me, standing calmly among the chaos. Aha.

  I let the crowd’s momentum carry me around the veranda. The hooded man spotted me, and the sharp point of a sword gleamed in his hands.

  I ran at him, jabbing my elbows into anyone in my way. Then in a flying leap, I crashed into the hooded figure and tackled him into the grass. Pinning his weapon hand, I yanked his hood down, revealing an angular face and pointed ears.

  “Get rid of that illusion,” I commanded. “Or I’ll let them trample you.”

  Tendrils of magic wrapped ar
ound my arms, and my gaze jerked to the sword pinned between us. Green light shone from its hilt, and my heart jolted. Dammit. He has a talisman.

  He was using a talisman’s magic to maintain the illusion. No wonder it hadn’t broken.

  Magic crept over my skin, the glow spreading across my legs. A tingling sensation ran to my nerve endings, and fur began to sprout from my skin. Dammit. If I let go of him, I’d lose him in the crowd, and not even my Gatekeeper powers would save me from being trampled to death.

  “Let her go!” Darrow’s furious shout cut through the noise. Then he was behind me, his blade skimming past my shoulder and sinking into the hooded Sidhe’s chest.

  The fur disappeared, the threads of magic retreating, and I stumbled to my feet, watching the Sidhe’s body crumple onto the grass.

  The false Erlking shouted, “Murder!”

  Shit. The illusion still wasn’t gone? That must mean there was a real person under there. The hooded Sidhe had been a decoy—and now the crowd was mad instead of scared. Darrow shoved me out of the way as they descended on the pair of us. Alarm blared through my mind when he vanished behind the furious crowd, but the false Erlking was right there. I couldn’t miss my chance.

  Reaching with both hands, I felt for the magic humming around the stage and pushed at it, demanding the glamour unroll at my touch. Break, damn you! Darrow made it look so easy. If I had iron, it’d be over in seconds, but the Sidhe and their bloody rules had made that impossible.

  I stopped fighting the glamour and conjured an illusion of my own, throwing it over my shoulder. The huge shape of a giant troll burst through the door, roaring to the heavens. To my relief, I spotted Darrow break away from the Sidhe as they turned to face the new threat.

  I’d give it three seconds before they realised the troll wasn’t real, but that was more than enough for an opening. I lunged for the stage and grabbed the hem of the false Erlking’s cloak, dragging him towards the edge. He snarled, but I latched on with both hands and put all my strength into it, tugging him off the stage and onto the grass.