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Fairy Rings and Dragon Kings (Book 7 in the Twilight Court Series)

Page 15

by Amy Sumida


  “Let's not get ahead of ourselves.” Lance waved me down. “As you said; we don't know what this magic is yet. Perhaps you could scry your husband, Ambassador Seren, and ask him.”

  “Which one?” Killian smirked.

  “I'll scry all of the kings when we get to Gentry; they need to be updated anyway.” I gave Killian an annoyed look, but he only shrugged.

  “Tiernan's gonna lose his shit,” Killian muttered as he settled into his leather seat and closed his eyes.

  The extinguishers chuckled, and I gave them all grim looks as I nodded in agreement.

  King Tiernan Shadowcall was indeed going to lose his shit.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Tiernan didn't answer my scry. Neither did Raza. I was getting a little perturbed with my inability to communicate with my husbands. I understood that they had kingdoms to run—hell, I was busy myself—but where in all of Fairy were they that neither of them could answer a damn scry?

  My father picked up immediately.

  “Where are you?” He stared past me to inspect the room I was in.

  “You should know; it's your office,” I said drolly.

  “You're in Gentry?” He asked. “Is Dylan there?”

  “Of course he's here; he's with the researchers.”

  A bark interrupted me, and Cat's face appeared in the sphere.

  “Hey, you,” I said as I rubbed a finger over the crystal. “I miss you.”

  Cat whined.

  “You'll see her soon enough,” Keir eased Cat down. “Why is Dylan with the researchers?” Dad looked off to the side. “It's past 10 PM there.”

  I filled him in on the island, the seelie, and the magic bombs. His expression went more and more grim as I spoke.

  “And you have one of these bombs?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “And I've got five men who recovered from their effects.”

  “Good, that will help,” he said distractedly.

  “Dad, do you know what type of magic this is?”

  “It wasn't illusion, not exactly.” He grimaced. “At least, not if it's what I think it is.”

  “And what do you think it is?”

  “The trom-laighe,” he whispered it as if merely speaking its name could manifest it. “The nightmare. It's an unseelie magic that brings the victim's worst fears to life around them but only in their mind. When used on humans in small amounts it results in a sort of paralysis; they're too terrified to move.”

  “Like a deer in headlights,” I whispered as I remembered Jack's eyes sightlessly staring up at me as I tried to comfort him.

  “I'm on my way, Seren,” my father's anxious voice jolted me out of my memory. “Don't leave San Francisco before I get there.”

  “Okay, Dad,” I promised.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Duke Dylan Thorn had been in disgrace with the Unseelie Court for many years, but with his brother's death, that disgrace had turned into honor, and he could once again say that he was a duke of Unseelie with pride. But he still hadn't gone home.

  My Uncle Dylan had been living in San Francisco, working as the CEO of my father's research company, Gentry Technologies, for years now. He was happy to be able to return to Unseelie for a visit, but he wouldn't be moving back anytime soon. In fact, I doubted that he'd even visit anytime soon. This was where he wanted to be; running a multi-million dollar company in the Human Realm and helping to discover new magical technology.

  He was utterly fascinated by the magic bomb.

  Uncle Dylan had dropped his glamour; he was so intent on analyzing the magic and science that had gone into creating the weapon. Beside him stood Councilman (sci-psych) Lance Teagan, looking just as focused on the delicate procedure enfolding before them. Neither of them was interested in hearing that my father was on his way. Dylan just waved distractedly at me with one snow-white, elegant hand; his completely—lid to lid—blue eyes darkening to indigo.

  “Careful now,” Dylan said to the technician who was drilling into the orb. “In fact, step aside. I'll do this myself.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” The technician bowed his head respectfully as he moved aside.

  The glass sphere was in a Plexiglas box that had a pair of rubber gloves secured into one panel. They were hoping to open the orb and activate the spell without casting it onto anyone. Lance wasn't sure it would activate if there were no one to enchant, but Dylan thought the spell would search for a target and then disburse. They were two peas in a science pod; handsome men, too consumed with their passion for research to use their good looks for their own benefit.

  Dylan directed a drill bit slowly into the glass orb, and with a small pop, the spell was released. Pale blue mist seeped out into the box. It was a much slower process than it had been when the spheres were shattered. The mist snaked out and then hit the clear walls. Little sensors inside the box started to beep, and a computer screen on my right flashed with a stream of information. I blinked in surprise; they could scan a magic spell?

  “I really need to visit more often,” I murmured as I looked over the flowing information on the computer screen. “How the hell can this machine figure out that the spell is unseelie magic?”

  “It's a program I've been working on for years,” Dylan said proudly as he removed his hands from the rubber gloves and joined me at the monitor. “We've analyzed the composition of thousands of spells and compiled the information in a database.”

  Lance's eyes went wide. As he opened his mouth to speak, Dylan cut him off.

  “No,” Dylan said. “I'm not handing this over to humans; not a chance in all the realms.”

  “Yeah; as if, dude,” Killian huffed.

  Lance looked disappointed, but he nodded. As if, indeed.

  The computer chimed, and all heads jerked toward the screen. It had narrowed the list down to a specific magic. I started to laugh mirthlessly, and the others looked at me in surprise.

  “No offense, Uncle Dylan, but in this instance, we didn't need your database,” I said. “My father called it; the trom-laighe—that's exactly what he said this was.”

  “Your father is a brilliant fairy,” Dylan said with a duh tone. “He started this company, after all. But your average man wouldn't have known that.”

  “Touché.” I conceded.

  “What the hell is a trahm-lie-ya?” Killian sounded out the word slowly.

  “It's a powerful, unseelie mór,” Dylan said pensively. “It was probably cast at full strength, but faded to a non-fatal version inside its confinement.”

  “What does the trom-laighe do?” Lance asked as he leaned closer to Dylan.

  I blinked, staring from Lance's hand—placed so close to Dylan's on the desk—to the way the sci-psych looked at my uncle. My eyes widened as Dylan moved his hand infinitesimally closer to Lance. Killian cleared his throat, and my gaze shot to his. He was barely containing his mirth.

  Well, damn; no wonder I'd never seen Dylan with a woman.

  “It's a fear-based magic,” Dylan explained to Lance. “The trom-laighe projects the victim's worst fears into their mind, rendering them so terrified that they are unable to move.”

  “That's pretty much what it did to us,” Extinguisher Clay Sullivan said.

  “Yes, but that was just a taste of the trom-laighe. When it's used at full strength it will kill a human victim within minutes,” Dylan went on. “The terror goes straight to the heart. On a fairy”—he shrugged—“the greatest it can achieve is paralysis, but that is generally enough to win a duel. Once your opponent is incapacitated, you can easily decapitate them.”

  “Shit,” Killian whispered. “Incapacitate to decapitate. Wicked.”

  “Yes,” Dylan agreed. “It's an enviable magic. The Tromlaighe family is fairy nobility; they might have ruled with such power at their disposal.”

  “Why didn't they?” Killian asked. “It sounds like it would trump thorn magic.”

  “Two reasons: first is that the trom-laighe is a volatile magic,” My uncle e
xplained. “It's difficult to wield with finesse. Generally, it would be launched at a target like a projectile, and if it hit, there was no going back.”

  “So, what's wrong with that?” Killian asked.

  “It's not a way to rule a kingdom, is it?” Uncle Dylan lifted a brow. “You can't flex your magical muscles to make your court fall in line. You either kill or do nothing.”

  “No offense,” Killian said, “but I'm surprised that an unseelie would find that to be a hindrance.”

  “My brother, Uisdean, might not have,” Dylan agreed, “but the Tromlaighes had more honor than he. Indeed, there were many times I wished they hadn't.”

  “Ouch,” Lance whispered.

  “But this brings me back to my conclusion that the magic was diluted by the transfer,” Dylan said crisply, tapping the table to emphasize his point. “A fairy would have to be very powerful to dole out the trom-laighe in little doses. It's far more likely that containing the spell weakened it.”

  “What was the second reason?” Killian asked.

  “What?” Dylan scowled.

  “You said there were two reasons the Tromlaighes didn't rule Unseelie,” Killian reminded him. “The first is the magic being volatile. What was the second?”

  “Oh, yes. The second is that the trom-laighe only works if the victim has fear to exploit.” Dylan smiled wickedly. “We Thorns fear nothing.”

  “Everyone has something they're afraid of,” I argued.

  “Little things perhaps,” Dylan amended, “but nothing that could paralyze us with dread.”

  “Damn,” Killian huffed. “Don't mess with Dylan.”

  “A good motto to live by.” Dylan nodded crisply.

  Lance stared at Dylan with a goofy smile on his face.

  “So, Fearless Dylan,” I said, “what now?”

  “What now?” He frowned. “The men are recovered and the spell discovered. What else do you want from me?”

  “I'd like to know how the bombs were made.” Lance lost his goofy grin as he wandered back to the Plexiglas box.

  “Indeed.” Dylan's brow creased. “I, as well.”

  “And I want to know how to find the bomb makers,” I huffed and exchanged a pained look with the extinguishers. “Scientists,” I muttered to them, and they chuckled.

  “Find them?” Dylan asked in surprise. “I imagine that's your area of expertise, Niece. I research aspects of nature and magic; you're the one who roots out criminals. Though”—he went pensive—“I don't believe the creation of these bombs is against Council Law.”

  “They were used to attack humans,” I growled.

  “By other humans,” Dylan pointed out. “And casting a spell in a contained environment is not a crime.”

  “Fuck me,” Killian whispered. “He's right. That much, I have read.”

  “These fairies are tricky,” I noted. “First with the fairy rings and now these bombs.”

  “I'd try the Underground if I were you,” one of the lab techs behind me suggested.

  We all turned to face him.

  “What did you say, Lelan?” Dylan asked the twilight kitsune.

  Lelan's two fox tails swished nervously as he answered, “The Underground; the secret fairy scene. You know; nightclubs, restaurants, strip joints, that sort of thing. You can buy anything you want in the Underground.”

  “Ah, yes,” Dylan said sagely. “I'd forgotten. It's been ages since I've had the time for such pursuits.”

  “What a shame,” Lance noted with a little smile.

  “There are fairy strip joints?” Killian interrupted the budding romance.

  I gave him a look. You know; the look. He grinned sheepishly.

  “I can't help being curious,” Killian said. “Some of those fairy girls make me wonder what they're packing.”

  My look intensified.

  “After living among the humans, we assimilate a little,” Lelan answered Killian's question. Then his dark, almond-shaped eyes slid to Dylan. “Recall, if you will, Your Grace, the time we investigated rumors of a fairy bazaar.”

  “Yes, thank you, Lelan,” Dylan said as his eyes narrowed in thought. “This would be a perfect item to offer in such a place.”

  “Hold on.” I held up my hands. “A fairy bazaar? Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “I don't think it means mutants,” Killian muttered. “The X-Men aren't fairies.”

  “Do you think it means that they sell magical items imported from Fairy?” Dylan asked me, ignoring Killian completely.

  “I do.”

  “Then yes, it does.” He smirked. “But we never found any evidence to prove its existence.”

  “Until now,” Killian pointed out.

  “It appears so.” Dylan looked intrigued.

  “Before we get into the bizarre bazaar and its magical offerings,” I said, “there was one other question I hoped you could help me with, Uncle Dylan. You and your database.”

  “Go on.” Dylan lifted a black brow.

  “We tracked a suspect into Twilight,” I hurried through the story. “He went invisible, but we had two barghests with us, so it shouldn't have been a problem. Except, they lost his scent.”

  “They did?” Dylan went to the computer and started typing. “What about you, Niece? Did you try to use that handy ability to see someone's aura?”

  “I wasn't close enough to try,” I huffed.

  “You mean; you didn't think of it in time.” Dylan gave me a chiding look over his shoulder.

  “Maybe that too.”

  The computer dinged, and Dylan frowned.

  “The parameters are too vague,” Dylan huffed. “The database says it could be anything from blinding light to buffeting winds.”

  “You're just reading the Bs,” I noted.

  “Do you see this list?” He waved a hand to the monitor as he scrolled down.

  “I had thought it would be a difficult thing to accomplish.” I grimaced.

  “Oh, it is,” Dylan assured me. “The fairy would have to be very powerful to get that sort of result, but his power could stem from many different magics.”

  “It's not what you got; it's how you use it.” Killian smirked.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “That's enough for tonight,” Dylan surprised me by announcing. “I'll give you a ride to your father's apartment, Seren. You can get a good night's rest, and then we'll revisit this problem in the morning.”

  “Oh, okay,” I said.

  “You will be welcome back tomorrow as well,” Dylan said to Lance.

  “Thank you.” Lance smiled. “I'll just call the local council house for a ride. I'm sure they can put us up for the night.”

  “Oh.” Dylan frowned and seemed to consider things. “I believe there's a van I can commandeer for the evening. We will take you to the council house before I drive the princess home.”

  We left the other technicians to clean up and headed down to the parking garage. It was strange to see Dylan driving a van, but he did so with ease, navigating the San Francisco streets like a professional delivery driver. We dropped off the humans, and I pretended not to notice Dylan slipping Lance his card. Then my uncle drove us to my father's high-rise apartment.

  “I'll walk you up,” he said as he pulled into one of the apartment's parking stalls.

  “That's okay, Uncle Dylan.” I waved him back. “We'll be fine.”

  “I insist.” He locked up and followed us to the elevators. “It's a dangerous time, and your father would want me to see you safely inside.”

  I gave Killian a shrug as we got in the elevator, and then we rode all the way up to the penthouse. It had been a long day, but it was still early, maybe 8 PM, and I had every intention of having a stiff drink and an even stiffer Killian. But as we walked down the hallway into the open kitchen/living room, fairies leapt out at us and scared me silly.

  “Surprise!” They shouted while Cat barked.

  “Agh!” I screamed, and lavender sparkles burst from my fing
ertips.

  “Was that wrong?” My father came forward in concern. “I thought we were supposed to jump out and say 'surprise.'”

  “What the hell is going on here?” I huffed as my heart slowed down.

  “It's a birthday party,” Dylan explained with a small smile. “Your father wanted to try the human tradition of surprising the guest of honor.”

  “Birthday...” I gaped at my father as I absently pet Cat. “Holy crap; it is my birthday! I totally forgot.”

  “But I could never forget the day you were born; September ninth. It was the happiest day of my life.” My father pulled me into an embrace. “Happy Birthday, Seren.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I hope I didn't scare you too much.”

  “Fear seems to be the theme of the day.” I shrugged. “You were right about that magic.”

  “Don't concern yourself with that right now.” Keir turned me toward the room. “I've brought some people with me who I thought you might like to celebrate with.”

  “That's why you guys weren't answering your scries!” I accused Raza and Tiernan.

  “We were on our way here.” Raza nodded.

 

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