by A. H. Lee
Are you warning me not to trust your other aspects?
Jessica had set a drink in front of Azrael and he sipped it. “What I understand,” he said in a low voice, “is that you met Mal during the Wild Hunt, and you did not kill him. I understand that very well.”
Ania smiled—a gentler expression than before. “You two would have been so much happier as horses.”
Azrael rolled his eyes.
“I would have made you forget your names,” murmured Ania. “I would have taken your lives and your magic. But…” she paused dramatically. “I wouldn’t have separated you. I’m not a monster.”
Azrael barked a laugh.
Her voice became more pragmatic. “And I certainly don’t need the Lord of the Shrouded Isle embarking on a blood vendetta against me or my realm. Of course I didn’t kill Mal. You’re just lucky I recognized him in time.”
Mal sat on Azrael’s left, across from Ania. Jessica sat down beside her, looking as though she might bubble over. Ania turned, and Jessica hugged her. “You came to dinner! And you brought snow! Oh my gods! Snow!”
“You better hope it’s not all our snow.”
“Also, you look like Saint Nicholas!”
“Well, at least I didn’t come down the chimney.”
Azrael put his head in his hands, “Please tell me the santas aren’t active.”
“Not as far as I know,” said Ania, sipping the drink Jessica had handed her. “Klaus is leading the Wild Hunt, so he’s got plenty to do.”
“Santa is real?” asked Jessica in confusion.
“Santas are a unique class of faery,” said Azrael. “You don’t get them in the Provinces. You’re too far from the Shattered Sea. Trust me, you don’t want to meet one.”
“Oh! Well…” Jessica looked at Ania critically. “They must have taken their costume from the Wild Hunt.”
“You should have seen her in Faerie,” said Mal. “She didn’t look nearly so cuddly.”
Ania’s eyes flicked to Mal. “I guess he didn’t kill you.”
“I guess he didn’t,” said Mal. To Azrael, he added, “She told me you were going to kill me. She said it, like, five times.”
Azrael screwed up his face. “Can we forget my initial reaction to this?”
Ania shrugged. “I’m just shocked we’re sitting here drinking bourbon. All that sex must be good for you.”
Azrael could feel himself going scarlet. What is the matter with me? He never displayed this sort of visible anxiety when meeting rulers at state functions. But this wasn’t a state function. This was his family, his personal space, on holiday. He was Ren here. Maybe I have aspects, too.
“May we join you?” asked Jacob from the far end of the table.
“Of course,” said Azrael.
Ania made a frustrated noise and started to stand, “I wanted to play!”
Lucy snickered.
“You can stop laughing, dragon! You owe me a game!”
“I really don’t think I do,” said Lucy.
“Games later,” said Azrael. “Have a cookie.” Jessica had set down the plate.
Ania looked puzzled. She took one and examined it. “Something’s odd here.”
“It’s not poison,” said Mal and took one of his own.
Ania nibbled on the edge of the cookie. She rolled the sweetness in her mouth for a moment. Then her laugh filled the kitchen. “Oh, Azrael…you silly, silly man.”
Azrael gave a long-suffering sigh. “You might say, ‘Thank you for sharing the expensive treats you made for your family and close friends.’”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” muttered Ania. She cradled the cookie in both hands, staring intently. “Watch this, Jessica.”
Nothing happened for a moment. Then something white and slender pushed from the edges of the cookie, moving lazily. Azrael thought for one disgusted moment they were worms, but then green shoots pushed out above them and he realized they were roots. “The wheat…”
“And the vanilla,” murmured Ania. “Which is also a plant. And…”
She shut her eyes tightly. The growing wheat was breaking up the surface of the cookie until it looked like soil in Ania’s cupped palms. The center of the dark mound fractured and a tiny golden head appeared. “Peep-peep!”
Jessica clapped her hands, delighted. “The eggs! Ren didn’t put the magic in the eggs, because—”
“Because that would have been very stupid,” finished Ania, “and he’s only a little stupid.”
“The butter is from cows,” said Azrael in alarm. “Please don’t animate that.”
“Also, you’ve ruined a perfectly good cookie,” whined Mal.
“I think it’s wonderful,” whispered Jessica. She ran her fingers over the wheat shoots, now several inches high in Ania’s hands. The tiny chick began to peck at the plants.
“Show off,” said Mal.
Ania folded her hands together, obscuring the cookie and everything growing from it. When she opened them again, there was only the chick—fluffy and golden, peeping in her palm. She handed it to Jessica. “It’s made of magic. You can just eat it when you get bored of it.”
“Oh!” Jessica cradled the chick.
“And it’s a pair of faery eyes,” said Azrael. “Please do not make me watch you at every turn, Ania. Jessica, let me see that. Don’t eat it!”
Ania looked annoyed. “It won’t hurt her. You can take the faery magic out of the construct, but it’ll turn into ambrosia. Or you can reanimate it yourself. It’s just a parlor trick.”
Jessica passed Azrael the chick, which, upon close examination, did not appear to contain any structured spells. Azrael forced himself to relax. He returned the chick to Jessica. Then he took one of his own cookies. The energy hit him with welcome warmth. Mal had pulled a lot of magic out of him and Azrael hadn’t dared ask for it back. He took another cookie.
Everyone around the table was laughing and talking now. The servants knocked and Azrael called out the spell to unlock the door. They brought tiny sandwiches and tea and a tray of cheeses. Everyone ate and drank. Lucy and Jacob had clearly met Ania before, although Azrael knew it must have been a long time ago.
At last, Jessica said, “Ania, didn’t you say you were worried about your horse?”
Azrael sat up straight. How could I forget? “Where is this faery hound?”
“Night terror,” corrected Ania. “He is tethered in your garden. He probably hasn’t eaten anyone. Not unless your staff have been foolish enough to touch him.”
Azrael grimaced. “I’m sure I would have heard about it if he’d eaten anyone, but let’s not tempt fate. Can he be placed in a stable?”
Ania looked doubtful. “I should probably just send him back to the dreamlands. We only bring night terrors into Faerie for the Wild Hunt. They’re too unpredictable to keep year-round.”
“If you think they’re unpredictable,” said Azrael, “then I would like it out of my garden.”
“I would have sent it back to the dreamlands already,” continued Ania. “Only I thought you might like to see it.”
Azrael hesitated. Yes, of course I would like to see it.
“It’s a very interesting horse,” offered Mal.
Azrael felt that he might be blinded by his own weaknesses. “Jacob?”
“I do not think you will be corrupted if you have a look at the horse,” said Jacob. “I would not ride it if I were you.”
So Jessica put on a wool coat, Lucy fastened her mink cape, Jacob and Azrael put on their jackets, and they all trooped out to see the faery horse.
Chapter 14
Jessica
The garden was a wonderland. Jessica’s clothes were definitely not warm enough, but she didn’t care. The snow had stopped, but it looked like three inches of powder, maybe more. The air was icy in spite of the sunshine. Mal paced back and forth as though he wanted to be a panther. “Do not tear those clothes,” muttered Azrael.
Ania’s horse turned out to be a bone-white stallion with em
ber-eyes that smoked and glowed. He’d melted the ground around the tree where he was tethered. “That’s not what he looked like in Faerie,” said Mal. “His head looked more like a skull, and he had even more teeth.”
Jessica thought the horse had quite enough teeth as it was. He snapped at Mal in a motion that reminded Jessica more of a dog than a horse, and he made a trilling sound that could have come from a monkey or a great cat. His tail had a longer boney section than most horse’s, and it moved more sinuously.
Ania warned Azrael that the animal probably wouldn’t be friendly. It did not seem interested in being petted. Then Azrael offered the horse a cookie. Jessica hadn’t seen him pick one up, but there it was in his palm, and the horse’s incredibly numerous teeth whisked over his hand.
“Well, that’s one way to make friends,” said Ania.
The horse nickered. Its tail waved as it chewed. Then it turned, and a disturbingly long tongue snaked out to lick Azrael’s hand.
“Congratulations,” said Ania, “You have befriended a nightmare.”
Azrael walked around the horse murmuring to it, running his hands over its withers, sides and flanks. “Do you think he would attack my mare?”
Ania pursed her lips. “I don’t know. If I’m on his back, probably not.”
Azrael looked up, grinning. “Then would you like to take a ride around my island?”
“You’re asking me if I’d like a look round?”
So they went back to the suite. Jessica and Azrael changed into riding clothes. Mal undressed and changed into the panther. Jacob and Lucy said they’d just as soon stay behind and entertain themselves. “You can use our bed!” shot Mal over his shoulder as they all trooped out the door.
“Do not be vulgar, Malcharius,” snapped Lucy.
“Just because it’s bigger,” continued Mal, “but you have your own bed, so…”
“Mal!” said Azrael.
“Sorry.”
In the stables, Azrael asked for the reins with bells. Jessica got her favorite horse—a dappled gelding named Toffee. He had the softest nose and a gentle disposition. He would not rear, bite, or kick, but he was young and fast. He could keep up.
The weather was splendid for riding. The horses were feeling frisky, picking up their feet and tossing their heads. Azrael’s mare kicked up her heels. Azrael took it smoothly.
“What’s her name?” asked Ania.
“Witch,” said Azrael.
Ania cocked her head. “Why?”
Azrael said, “Because she floats” at the same time that Mal said, “Because she bites.”
“Well, my horse bites harder,” said Ania, “so don’t get too close.”
They cantered along the road that ran towards the coast, Mal pacing them. The night terror—Jasper—was behaving well, although the two mundane horses were wary of him. They were accustomed to Mal, which probably helped, but Jasper was something else. The steam that rose from his eyes and nose grew more pronounced as he became more heated with exercise.
Azrael began pointing out landmarks. “Those are my rice fields, also where we keep the ducks and geese. Up that way is an ancient mansion from before the Sundering. You can see the foundations and some of the walls. Just over that hill are the remains of a temple to something appalling if the statues are any indication, although the mosaic floors are lovely.”
The path opened up as they approached the beach. The sigh of waves grew louder. Ania had taken off her cap to avoid losing it, and her pale blond curls whipped like a glorious, golden milkweed flower. Jessica hoped that every strand wasn’t a seed, although that wouldn’t have surprised her.
At last, they came out of the dunes onto the edge of the Shattered Sea—blue and calm under an afternoon sky. When Azrael was checking wards, he ran his mare into the surf. However, when he was riding for pleasure, he usually stayed in the area a little back from the water where the ground was hard-packed. Now, this stretch lay smooth and white—perfect, unbroken powder.
Jessica breathed deeply in the sweet, sharp air. Magic and the warmth of bourbon coursed through her body. She felt alive. Ania brought Jasper up beside Jessica’s gelding. She was grinning, her cheeks rosy. She looked at Azrael and Mal—loping along beside each other. “They really did make beautiful horses.”
Jessica giggled. “And I still say they make beautiful men.”
Azrael turned to Ania with a smile that was half grin and half snarl. “Ania, I say this with all due respect. Fuck you.” He tucked his heels into Witch and that was all it took to send her whipping ahead, churning up the snow in a joyful plume, her bells ringing. Mal opened up into the long, rippling run that Jessica so rarely got to see. Jasper made a predatory whine and Ania gave him his head. He came from the Wild Hunt, thought Jessica in wonder.
They raced each other over the snowy sand, through crisp, salty air, all the way around the Shrouded Isle, until it was time for dinner.
Chapter 15
Tod
Tod arrived at Azrael’s suite promptly at five o’clock and was let into the sitting room. Since that morning, Tod had had a few extra hours of sleep and a bath. He’d received and responded to letters from his family. He’d opened the yearly box of gifts they’d sent. He’d put on a green waistcoat that looked festive with his red hair, together with a white shirt, gold cuff links, black tie, and dress trousers. He’d visited with his friends among the staff and courtiers, and he felt reasonably prepared for whatever awaited him at dinner.
The sitting room was full of people. In spite of this, Tod immediately spotted Yuli at one end of the room, perched beside Jessica on the loveseat. Yuli was wearing a red dress, trimmed in silvery thread, her black hair piled on top of her head. The slender straps showed off her flawless brown shoulders and delicate collarbones. Jessica wore green lace. She was a vision of full, red lips, flashing blue eyes, and glossy, blond hair.
Jacob and Lucy were sitting in chairs across from them, along with Ania, which surprised Tod. He had expected Azrael to send her back to Faerie at once. But, there she was in her velvet and fur, looking quite at home.
If Jacob thinks she’s alright, I suppose she is.
The people at the far end of the room appeared to be Nicholas and the two youngest students from the school—a girl and boy, both thirteen or fourteen years of age. The youngsters looked scrubbed and sober in clothes that would have been appropriate at either a wedding or a funeral.
Nicholas, who had turned sixteen recently, didn’t look much more comfortable, although he certainly looked better than he had at this time last year. A higher quality diet and access to soap had improved his acne. And his hair looked well-trimmed. However, he continued to experiment with a beard that he couldn’t quite grow. He was a prickly, bookish creature, and Tod had never managed to get farther than polite civilities with him.
Azrael and Mal were sitting between these two groups in their dress clothes. Mal looked twitchy. This demure formality did not suit him at all. Tod suspected he would have rather been a panther in this group. Panthers could get away with a certain amount of mischief.
Azrael, on the other hand, looked relaxed and easy. He was talking to Jacob on his right, but he stopped to welcome Tod. Jessica leaned forward to call a greeting as well, and Mal perked up enough to rumble, “Can you smell the goose? Does it smell like music? I think it smells like music.”
A footman had answered the door—one of several extra staff now bustling around the suite preparing for dinner. Tod started to take a chair between Mal and the students, but Jessica made room on the loveseat and waved him over. “Tod, come tell Yuli about your and Mal’s goose hunt.”
Tod raised one eyebrow at her.
“All but the secret parts,” said Jessica in a stage whisper.
“There are secret parts?” asked Yuli with a giggle.
“It’s a hunt for a magical animal on the Shrouded Isle,” said Jessica. “Of course there are secret parts!”
Tod knew Jessica was talking about his fo
ur-legged condition and probably Ania. But what he heard in his head was Mal’s voice purring, “It’s too bad Yuli isn’t here. Watching me do this to you would make her so wet.”
“Um.” Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush… He didn’t dare look at Mal. He didn’t dare look at Yuli, either. Instead, he focused on Jessica. “I’m sure Yuli doesn’t want to hear about killing a goose any more than you do.”
Yuli gave a huff. “I bet I’ve killed more geese than you have, Thomas.”
That got his attention. “Really?”
“My family hunts.”
For werewolves. “I didn’t know. Would you have gone on our hunt?” Don’t say that. She’ll want to go next time.
Yuli smiled a little uncertainly. “Maybe. I’d love to see a live solstice goose.”
“Surely you don’t hunt with guns in the islands?” said Jessica.
Yuli shrugged. “You can. Guns are mechanical, not electric, but they do tend to misfire more often when magical levels are high. You can spell them, but I’ve always used bows.” She glanced at Tod. “What did you use?”
Stupid, Tod. Stupid, stupid.
But Jessica only said, “That’s one of the secrets.”
Yuli grinned. “So many secrets.”
You have no idea.
“Can you at least tell me what the geese looked like?” asked Yuli.
Tod launched gratefully into a description of how the solstice geese had appeared, their hearts aflame with color. Mal leaned forward to join in. They talked about the snow that had come with the geese. Mal continued straight into a description of the Wild Hunt. He told how they’d been spared by the faeries “because even the fae wouldn’t dare send a challenge to Lord Azrael.”
Ania, who was talking to Azrael, paused to shoot Mal a disgusted look. Mal ignored her. He did not mention the Faerie Queen, nor did he make any connection between the story and the young woman dressed like Saint Nicholas, currently chatting to the Lord of the Shrouded Isle.
