by Zoe Parker
Bloody fucking emotions.
Months passed for her since I left. For me, it has been years, and I still have no idea how to deal with the emotions entangled with her. In this case, I am at a bit of a loss of the correct procedure of reintroducing myself.
Even delving into the massive bank of memories from the ones I have consumed does not help. No one understands emotions.
But I can do some recon. Or kill something. Yes, I will go kill something. That is so much easier than trying to figure out the mess inside of me.
With a goal now in mind, I pass through the realms to a place I know is always good for hunting something.
Chapter Five
Iza
“Iza, this place is so cool!” Ruthie exclaims, running through the dining room, with its tables stretching as far as the eye can see. She grabs my arm and yanks on it like it’s not attached or anything. Gently, I remove her hands and turn her to face me, amused, but very much wanting to keep my arm.
“Did you find a room? The boys?”
She nods, smiling from ear to ear, at my questions.
“The Sidhe made rooms for each of us. I have a shoe closet!” She jumps up and down in place.
Good god, who knew closets were so exciting?
Then again, I was a bit tickled when I saw my room, which the kids shared with me in last night. There’s a large round bed, covered in a multitude of cushions, and it was so freaking comfortable, I didn’t want to get out of it this morning.
Not that I slept much.
Instead, I lay there and stared at the gorgeous purple walls with three-dimensional dragons flying around on it. At the ceiling with stars and even a moon shining down on me.
The bathroom is even tailored to me specifically.
The Sidhe is trying to comfort me. I get that now. The feeling it’s trying to saturate me in is… love. It’s not an emotion I’m familiar with, so it took me a bit to figure it out.
Still, I’m not sure what to do with it. I have a connection with this place. It sings to me, soul-deep. So much so that late last night, I could feel the leaves on the trees outside and the water lapping against the shore in the lake.
The dirt, I could feel the dirt. Still can.
It gets worse. Now I can feel every single Feyrie in existence. The Magiks will make sure I know what I need to know about each one of them. If it can touch them, not all of them that come will be loyal.
There is a reason I’m the one chosen for this, the reason it’s not some goody two shoes with a silver tongue. The Magiks only want the loyal ones.
The ones who aren’t shall be judged, and brought to justice. Feyrie Justice. Not a slap on the wrist either, unless it’s detached then maybe.
That’s something I can do better than anyone… almost anyone. Phobe is much better at it, but he isn’t here. He’s not connected to the Sidhe.
He’s something else entirely. And did I mention… not here? The jerk.
“Iza, you okay?” Ruthie’s concerned voice breaks into my reverie.
Shaking my head a little, I smile at her and say, “I’m good. Where're the boys?”
They’re probably playing the gaming system again. The Sidhe provided a TV as big as a wall in the living room—every boy’s dream.
“Playing video games. Michael is trying to beat Knox’s high score in something. Have you met some of the folks here? Iza, there are dragons here. Real Dragons! They have wings and everything.” Ruthie flaps her arms, but barely takes a breath before she continues to talk at twenty miles a second. “Did you see the Goblins? Or some of the other critters walking around here?”
She grabs my arm again, and starts pulling me to people’s tables. She’s going to yank the damn thing off if she keeps pulling on it.
“What’s here?” she asks, stopping us at a table.
God help me. The girl has no couth.
“Two imps and a shifter,” I say automatically.
The three men at the table smile indulgently at Ruthie. Four tables later, Ruthie gets distracted when Michael walks into the dining room with a chattering Knox.
The blush on her face is hilarious. I giggle. She deserves a little payback for dragging me around to play ‘guess the creature.’
Leaning close to her I whisper, “When are you going to put him out of both your miseries?”
She swats at my arm. “Iza!”
“What? It’s the truth. He makes puppy-dog eyes at you just as often,” I whisper. Or at least try to. I don’t have the best whisper voice— it carries.
Her face turns more red. This is awesome; she’s going to pop like a little cute balloon.
Michael and Knox head right for us. When he gets to me, my little Alpha shifter wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes. I pat his head. I’m still learning this whole affection thing.
I’m a work in progress.
“Iza, he can’t beat my high score, so he threatened to eat me,” Knox tattles on Michael.
I look up at Michael, who blushes.
“He bit me,” Michael says, showing the imprint of little teeth on his arm. The wound is already healing.
“He won’t eat you, Knox. Right, Michael?”
Michael cuts a mock dirty look at Knox then nods.
“And of course, you won’t bite him again over a stupid video game, right Knox?”
Knox looks up at me guiltily and then nods.
I take a deep breath and say, “Now, let’s go meet some dragons.”
Specifically, those I remember from before, when I was a child. The very ones I’ve been avoiding all morning. Wow, I’m not awkward or anything.
“Who’s that big bearded guy?” Knox asks, pointing as kids do.
No subtlety—a kid after my own heart.
“That’s Alagard. He was the weapons master for the dragon royalty.”
“What’s a weapons master?” Knox asks, linking his hand with mine.
“Well, he trained soldiers for the dragon kingdom.” At least I think that’s what he did. I’m a little fuzzy about what it is too.
“It means that I was responsible for turning boys into soldiers. And am willing to be again,” Alagard says, winking at me.
I ignore the wink.
“Ask him, Knox. He can give you all the details.”
Excited but shy, Knox sits across from him at the table and stares at him expectantly.
I grab a seat beside him. I need to know these things too.
“So, you’re like a general?” Knox asks him.
Alagard shakes his head. “I teach them the skills. Someone else points them in the right direction.”
Knox studies Alagard with that super serious look he gets and asks, “Why?”
I lean forward, resting my chin on my hand. It’s a good question!
“Dragons are born with particular talents. It’s part of our Magiks. Mine is with metals. Because of that, I was chosen to train by the previous master, and now it is my duty to train. But my mind isn’t analytical enough for directing soldiers in battles.” As he answers Knox I watch his face and allow my Magiks to brush him.
He’s telling part of the story. Alagard doesn’t like sending people off to die. That’s why he repeatedly failed at leading. Guilt.
It’s all there in the song the Sidhe sings to me. My brain is just slow at figuring out what it all means. Certain notes make me feel certain emotions. The Sidhe doesn’t have an actual voice, just its beautiful songs.
I’m okay with that.
Right now, it’s singing about Alagard’s misplaced guilt. His mind is wide open to the Sidhe. His loyalty to the Dark, full and complete.
“Yeah, you’re full of shit. But we’ll talk about that another time, Alagard,” I say when there is a pause in the conversation.
“Beg pardon, my lady?”
“You can’t hide behind fear or guilt anymore. You don’t deserve to feel either. Soon you and I will have a talk about things and your place in them.”
Stunned, Alagard
sits there and stares at me. Luckily for him I’m used to having that effect on people.
“Ha ha, you’re gonna be a general now.” Knox says, laughing.
Chapter Six
Phobe
I cannot go back inside of the Sidhe. Not yet. But I can sense her in there even though our bond is sleeping. Because I had to make it do so, to keep her from feeling me so close by.
Currently, she is too aware of everything inside of the Sidhe, and might very well discover my presence before I am ready for that to come to pass.
For now, I can see her on the days when she is outside. The kids are around her most of the time, and she watches them like a hawk. The dragons work around her too, but I can see their alertness.
They think she has no idea they are guarding her. The reality is that she is guarding them. Protecting her flock of sheep like the good Shepherd that she is.
There are also moments where I think she is going to catch me watching her. She will pause and look right in my direction with a frown on her face. Then she shrugs it off and moves on in whatever task she is completing.
She looks a little lost at times too. Often there is a faraway look on her face, her forehead wrinkled in thought. The urge to reach out and touch her with my shadows, to search for what has her thinking so hard, is hard to resist.
It is during these moments I am the most thankful—yes, thankful—that Iza is not human and frail. No human mind could survive her life.
But even her mind did not survive it completely unscathed.
The difference is, she always moves forward.
Today, they are out picking up refuse that is strewn all over the Sidhe land. Iza is in the lead with the children close at hand, all the children. She is turning into a bit of a mother bear when it comes to her people.
Caring for these creatures will make things more difficult for her in the future. Not that difficult ever stops her. Iza does not realize how hard things are going to get yet. She will. Iza is smart. She will figure it out, then adapt.
Unfortunately, her job as the Shepherd is to bring the people together. To get them ready to be lead, to hold them together and protect them. In essence, her duty is harder than any lost king’s.
Her destiny.
She hates the word destiny. Says, and I quote, “It is a bullshit way to convince people to do stupid shit based on someone else’s bullshit.”
I think I am starting to understand what she means by that.
Today, she is not smiling much. A frown keeps appearing between her eyes. Something heavy is weighing on her thoughts. The impulse to reach out for her mind is strong, and I stomp on it.
Soon. Very soon. As soon as my gut stops clenching every time I think about standing face to face with Iza again.
Chapter Seven
Iza
Jameson is too nerdy for his good sometimes. This time, however, it's working out for me. He is documenting everyone that enters the Sidhe. He’s also working with the dragons in arranging identification for the residents.
This human world requires legal documents for everything.
Smart imp, Jameson. And he’s also working non-stop at making up for the shit he did. Honestly, I’m kind of proud of him. The Sidhe likes him. And I see him now for what he truly is.
Which helps me trust him more.
Not counting the house goblins, we have almost three-hundred people here. Which is a lot, but not when you compare it to how many will be here soon. Thousands.
All the shifter children Ryan arrived with have been adopted out to other members of the Sidhe. Children are a rarity, and there are lots of folks who will love them. Jameson also sends a team led by Ryan out to get more stragglers daily. Mostly the old and children who need help getting here.
Apparently, Ryan has turned over a new leaf. Jameson said he always helps with whatever is needed. Ryan has a lot to make up for and this is a good start.
“My Lady, are you paying attention?” Jameson asks, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
He goes to do it again, and I grab his hand.
I’m only half joking when I say, “If you snap your fingers in my face again, Jameson, I’ll break them.”
Clearing his throat nervously, he pulls his hand out of my grasp and flips through his notebook again. “I’m making a list of council member families as well. I have a feeling this might be useful in the future.”
“Find out anything you can on the government structure of this country. I read on the Google God, but I’m sure there are things it doesn’t know. Or that I simply don’t understand,” I request.
He scribbles notes on his paper.
“Anything else, my lady?”
I think about it a moment and say, “Look for a property we can use for a potential business.”
If you give people something to work on that they can call their own, it helps morale. So, says the Google God.
“Of course. That’s fantastic, a way to make a legitimate income and keep the humans from being suspicious.” He’s nodding as he writes.
I roll my eyes. “Also, find out about the human holidays and customs. I would like to make sure we recognize them.” As I speak, he keeps nodding and writing.
Yes, he’s very useful. This is why I didn’t break his fingers.
Staring at him, I use the Magiks to really look at him. There is no doubt that Jameson did a selfish, dirty thing to Phobe and I, but I can see the goodness in him.
The untapped potential.
The Sidhe sings to me of his regret. Reaching out, I pat his shoulder.
“Good job, your help is invaluable.” At my words he blushes, and I take that as my cue to walk off.
Jameson has done a lot here, since he got his head out of his ass. He’s still Jameson but being here is good for him.
Perhaps it’s good for all of us.
“Oh, by the way,” I call over my shoulder to Jameson. “I found your… what do they call them? Blog. Yes, that’s it. Your blog. How’s that orgasm leaf fanning bit going?”
His gasp of outrage echoes and I throw my head back and laugh. Jameson fanned a woman with a leaf and thought it would give her an orgasm. Leaf fanning. I laugh harder.
Chapter Eight
Iza
A long note of comfort from the constant song the Web sings to me means that my Dad is— “What’s got you so thoughtful, Dove?”
He climbs onto the bed beside me, no longer hesitant to be affectionate with me. And since I’m not hesitant anymore either, I lean against him and watch Knox who is staring out of the window a frown on his little face.
“He’s been through a lot, Dove. He’s trying to adjust just like you are,” Dad says, giving voice to my thoughts.
I raise an eyebrow at him. Look at him being all wise and shit.
“Kids go through phases. I’ve seen it many times.”
I settle in more comfortably and ask, “So tell me about the death thing?”
Dad chuckles and answers, “The movies are mostly wrong. I don’t wear a long black shroud and go personally to collect the souls of the dead. They are escorted to the various afterlives by creatures similar to your Fiends.”
“So, there’s more than one kind?”
“Essentially, yes. The All-Father likes to give comfort to his human creations.”
“Do you know everyone that dies?”
“No, not at all. I must be looking for them or know they’re dead. Souls do not get ‘checked-in’ to enter the realms of the dead.”
Well, there went that theory; no ticket lines in the afterlife.
“All right, Dove. Think of the beginning of life like a big soup pot of soul energy cooking on the fire of creation. When someone is born, their energy floats out from the soup and merges with a physical body. When they die, their soul returns from whence it came.”
It sounds way more simplified than it probably is. My Dad has gotten to know me well enough to realize that the simpler, the better.
“What
about heaven and all that?” I ask.
“Their experiences while in the soup pot are what they believe in while alive.”
“You’re saying that if someone believes they are going to hell when they die, they’ll imagine hell while in the pot?”
“Essentially, yes.”
Smiling, I pat his hand. “So what exactly do you do besides look pretty?” And if he isn’t escorting the dead all over why does he disappear all the time?
“It’s amazing how often creatures try to tamper with death. Not unlike your dark friend Phobe. They just have a lot less chance of success. There are also things that try to… escape at times. Since my existence is tied to the realm of the dead, I must protect it from those threats.”
That makes a weird sort of sense.
“Why can’t you interfere with things out in the living world?”
“If I break the rules, I lose my post and I will be banished to the realm of my birth, as long as I live,” he says solemnly.
Well, then. That makes me feel a little like an asshole for resenting him leaving all the time.
“You were entitled to it. I could’ve always taken you and your Mother to my realm. We would’ve had a good life.”
Freaking mind-readers.
“Would Mom have been okay with leaving her people behind?” I ask, trying not to sound like a little kid. My mother was incredibly loyal to her people. She fought for them, bled for them. She loved them.
“Yes, for you, Dove. Nothing mattered more than you to her.” His answer gives me that weird warm feeling inside.
And that’s enough of that.
“Dad are you ever going to find someone else?”
I’m not sure where the question came from but it’s out there. And valid. There’s no reason for him to stay alone. Mom has been gone a long time and I really don’t think she wants him alone.
When he shifts around, obviously uncomfortable, I giggle a little.
