by Wendy Owens
We’re two-thirds of the way through the sea of people when I hear the first scream. I can’t look back; if I look back, it may slow us down, just enough for one of those things to catch us.
“This way,” Piper instructs, taking the lead and darting off to the right.
We emerge on the other side of the crowd, and as if it were a brick wall, I run squarely into a rather large broad-chested man. A Herald!
“Oh, thank God!” Piper is panting.
Another Herald steps out from behind him, neither making eye contact with us. The stream of them doesn’t stop, and suddenly I’ve lost count. We’re surrounded, and as I try to keep my eyes on each of them, my head begins to spin. It’s impossible. Something hard and cold hits me from behind, and I fall to the ground. It’s not sharp, and my insides are not spilling to the ground, so I must have been struck by a Herald and not by a wolf.
Then I feel a hard blow to my side. I’m once again left gasping for air, clutching at my ribs, desperate for oxygen. Why in the hell are they attacking us?
“Stop! You’re going to kill her,” Piper pleads. “Don’t you know who we are?” That’s it, Piper, hit them with arrogance, because that will charm ‘em.
Reaching up with two fingers, I touch the tender spot at the back of my skull. Through blurred vision I see red, but only until I feel a strong hand wrap around my shirt, pulling me upright. I have trouble gaining my footing and hear the individual holding me huff in frustration before tossing me over his shoulder. A second later we’re stepping into a shimmering wall, and I’m calling out in desperation for Piper.
“I’m here, right behind you,” she reassures me. Heralds, I’ve handled before, though this lot does seem to be particularly sour. Wolves, however, I haven’t quite mastered how to fight, so anywhere is better than here right now.
Six
Her Majesty, the Queen
“We’ve got nowhere to run. You could loosen your grip already!” I’m nearly spitting as I yell at the Herald who has had his grubby little sausage fingers dug into my arm for the last six corridors we’ve passed through. “You know, I could have a concussion.”
“Shut her up already,” one barks before another shoves me by my shoulder, causing me to stumble forward. At least my arm is finally free. I rub it, wincing where the bruise is already forming.
“Can you at least tell us why we’re here?” Piper has rephrased this question at least five times, and each time it has been met with silence.
I look over my shoulder. “They’re not going to tell us anything, all right?”
“No, that’s not all right,” she answers in frustration. “You’re a Royal Magistrate, and I’m your Crim. We’re entitled to answers.”
“Apparently, sweetheart, we’re not.” I laugh, though nothing about this is funny. When we take the next turn, I suddenly know exactly where we’re going because I’ve been here before. My pace slows as the two massive white doors come into view. In a hushed tone, I whisper, “We’re going to see Queen Boru.”
“What? I can’t hear you,” Piper says, squinting her eyes like that can help her hear better.
I roll my eyes and say louder, “This is the throne room.”
I glance over at her and can see she’s terrified—silent. It’s completely understandable; I’ve only met the queen once, and I know I most certainly find her to be a horrifying creature. All of the stories about how she feasts on human flesh haven’t helped soften her image.
A single guard passes through the door and into the chambers, leaving us with a half dozen guards to continue watching us.
“You okay?” I ask Piper as we come to a stop.
She shakes her head confirming she is far from it. “No, this is wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Humans are not allowed in the queen’s presence. Not even Crims.”
“What are you talking about? Desmond was in there with me when I first met her,” I argue. Obviously, she’s been told some silly legend about the woman that isn’t true.
“I don’t know why he was there or why it was allowed, but it’s law. No human can cast his or her gaze on the queen,” she explains. I remember Des and how he fell to the ground and stared at the floor. I thought it was such a sign of weakness in him at the time, but what if he was averting his eyes because he knew he had to?
The Herald reemerges from the throne room. He looks at Piper. “You wait here.”
She nods and a glimmer of relief crosses her face. Piper never leaves me alone; her response surprises me.
The guard shifts his gaze to me. “You … come with me,” he instructs.
I protest, looking in Piper’s direction. “No, I don’t like the idea of us separating.”
“Now!” he barks.
Piper smiles. “It’s okay, go. I don’t like letting you out of my sight either, but it’s the law.”
“Well, it’s a stupid law,” I add before turning and entering the chamber. Everyone else seems to be scared of Queen Boru, but I know I have a choice. I can either allow her to grow into a legend in my mind, or I can confront who or what she is with confidence.
I march across the shiny white floor, the memory of the white throne made from bones settling over me. Okay, maybe this woman scares me a little.
When I pass the final set of columns, I expect her to be wearing a black dress, like the first day we met, but much to my surprise, Queen Boru is instead dressed in red. The distance between us decreases, and I can see it’s a satin-like material that shimmers as she shifts. She doesn’t acknowledge me as I approach, only sits upon her bone throne, staring into nothingness. Her crimson dress flows from where it’s cinched at her slender waist. Her hair and makeup are as always flawless like her pale skin. I notice she’s wearing a different crown today. This one is clear, as if made of glass and the light glints off of the sharp points
“Your Majesty,” the Herald kneels before the queen and begins, “Here she is.”
She looks in our direction. There is no smile, no emotion on her face at all.
“You may go,” she commands, her voice just as cold as I remembered. She’s looking at me; those dark empty eyes feel as though they are peering into the depths of my soul, and all I can do is wish I could shield myself from her stare.
She waits until we’re alone, and as she taps her long fingernail against the throne, she says, “You’ve developed quite a reputation for yourself in a very short time.” The last time I was told I had a reputation I was in big trouble.
I swallow hard. Queen Boru likes to be in control, but something tells me she also loathes weakness. “I see, and what kind of reputation is that?”
She falls silent, and her eyes widen. With the way she’s looking at me, I wonder if all the stories about her are true. During my investigations, I’ve heard of the humans she keeps for feeding on, the story of when she slaughtered all of her chambermaids because she didn't like the way they had styled her hair. The worst story and the one I was trying to force myself not to believe was the one where she drank baby's blood, directly from the source, to keep her youth. Most people were scared to speak ill of the queen, but the Nether Fae always had a story to tell, after all, not much more could be taken from them.
My heart begins to race as visions overtake my thoughts of her descending her throne and sinking her glistening fangs that are clearly visible into my throat. Why did you have to ask a question? She’s the Queen of all Fae for Tā mā de’s sake.
Her tongue slides along her thin red lips, and as her eyes return to a squint, she breaks the silence. “A reputation similar to that of your grandfather.”
I smile, unsure if she means this as a compliment or an insult. I can’t help but feel satisfaction at the comparison. I know it would have made Joe proud.
“A Royal Magistrate who can get the job done,” she adds.
I bow my head in respect. “I’m honored by your words.” Did I just say that? Piper must be rubbing off on me.
“I didn’t bring
you here for praise.” Her tone quickly shifts, and she stands from her throne and glides down the stairs. She moves swiftly and elegantly. “Walk with me,” she commands, and I don’t hesitate to follow. The chamber is so large it provides us with ample area to roam.
She doesn’t look at me as she continues, “You’re working on the case of the West Brook Killer, is that correct?”
“Yes, my Queen,” I say, unsure what I’m supposed to call her.
“Have you made progress?” Before I answer, I wonder about her sudden interest in one of my cases.
“We’re following a couple of leads. We were checking on one when your—” so many words that would describe the Heralds come to mind, but I decide to play it safe saying, “guards interrupted us.”
“Yes. I tell them to be discreet, but I don’t think they understand the meaning of the word.” She grins slightly.
“I doubt it.”
“Your investigation led you to the nightclub, Eclipse?” she asks. I get the impression she knows much more than she’s letting on—perhaps enough to blow the case wide open. Is she behind these mysterious attacks in some way?
“We think there could be a link between the place and the killer.” I decide to play it close to the vest.
“Do you have a suspect yet?”
“We’re still working up some theories.”
There’s silence as we continue walking. I want to ask her why she has brought me here, why she is so interested in this case, but I know asking the queen what her angle is would be ill-advised, to say the least.
She glances at me for a moment, which only makes me uneasy. It feels like her gaze could spontaneously ignite me into an agonizing burning pile of flesh.
“Have you ever heard of a Blazing Moon?” The words of the slender man on stage come back to me. “Tonight you will be granted an opportunity to prove you are worthy of the power bestowed upon us by the Blazing Moon.”
If I tell her I’ve heard the term, she will want to know more—more that I am not yet ready to share.
I shake my head. “No, what is it?”
“That’s not surprising. It only happens every five hundred years. Most of the Fae around these days would never have experienced such an event—only a handful of elders and the Immortals, of course.”
“Like Lord Ardack?” I ask, then quickly bite my lip to silence myself.
She freezes and turns to face me. “What would make you bring him up?” A stitch sews across her brow, and for the first time, I see the tightness of her skin. She doesn’t look a day over twenty-five, but I know that isn’t true. She’s, in fact, much older than I could ever imagine. She’s much older than my grandfather was.
Quickly, I reply, “No reason, really. We spoke to Lord Ardack about the Lycans in general and one possibly being behind the West Brook attacks.”
She nods her head and continues walking, before asking, “And what does our fine Lord Ardack have to say about the attacks?”
“Not much.”
She laughs. “I’ve never known Lord Ardack to have much to say.”
“Yeah, I kind of got that from him. He didn’t have much to offer us, just that no self-respecting Lycan could ever do something so deplorable. Oh, and he suggested I should probably start looking in the Netherworld if I want to find the real killer.”
“Of course he did.” She doesn’t bother to hide her disdain. “And where did the research of the Nethers get you?”
“We haven’t gotten that far—”
“Because you know it’s not true.”
“Because your guards interrupted our investigation,” I explain. I need to know what’s going on. “I’m sorry, have I done something wrong? Is that why I’m here?”
Queen Boru looks around the room, ensuring we’re alone before continuing, “Tynder, what I’m telling you is no secret. My throne is not safe; it has never been for any queen. There’s always some plot against any sitting throne. It’s the Fae way—to covet the power.”
“I see. Not exactly a stellar character trait, is it?” Why is she confiding in me?
“It would be naive of me to assume there isn’t a plan to overthrow me and seize control of the kingdom.” I would think she was paranoid, if what she said didn’t make so much sense. Even Des warned me about The queen’s inner circle. If she can’t even trust her advisors, what hope can she possibly have of holding onto the throne? It’s obvious, but even I would never dare say this to her.
“I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with me or my investigation?” I ask.
“Everything, my dear,” her words are cold and measured. “As I was telling you before, a Blazing Moon occurs every five hundred years for thirty consecutive nights. We’re already on night thirteen of the event,” she explains.
“Okay, so the moon looks like it’s on fire for a month. I still don’t see what this has to do with my investigation.”
“You don’t find it odd that we have a Lycan killer on the loose during the only moon that can create a super killer?” she poses the question.
“A what?”
“If a wolf turns on a night of the Blazing Moon, it means they have the ability to shift whenever they choose, not just when the moon is full.”
“So wait, they’re like an Alpha during this period?”
“Yes.” She nods. “In a way, but an Alpha is from the pure bloodline of the Lycan, and, therefore, immortal. These abominations turn due to the venom they receive from the bite. If a human can’t withstand the change, it can drive them mad.”
“Wait,” I interject. “I thought all transformations had to be sanctioned. According to Lord Ardack, even hunts have to be authorized.”
“He would say that, wouldn’t he?” Her mistrust is evident.
“But why risk changing humans into Lycans at all if it could turn them into psychopaths?”
She grimaces. “Were you this slow when you were a mortal?”
“I—” Silencing myself I fight the urge to unload on my queen, certain she would relieve me of my windpipe if I did. “I’m just saying it seems like a lot of mess to clean up. Why would anyone risk turning a human during the bloody moon?”
“What do you need to take the throne? To overthrow a strong government?” she asks me, an annoyed glare burning through me.
“An army?” I ask.
“Armies of wolves that can only change during the full moon and are limited in numbers are not very threatening. However, a countless army of Lycans who can change at will, now that’s a different story.” For a glimmer of a second, I see the weight of her crown and the responsibility it entails on her face. As quickly as it appeared, though, it’s gone, and the emotionless and ruthless mask of authority is back.
“You think it’s …” I pause. Accusing a member of the Council is dangerous. “— someone close to the high court?”
We stand there quiet for a moment. Queen Boru shrugs finally, displaying no emotion on her face. “I wouldn’t presume to make those sorts of assumptions. I’ll leave Magistrate work in your very competent hands. However, I want you to find out who’s behind the recent transformations and deliver them to me.”
I tilt my head, not hiding my confusion. “I’ll catch whoever’s behind this, don’t worry. But don’t you mean I should hand them over to the Council and Nash?”
“This threat is one against the crown and it can’t be tolerated. I need to know for certain how deep the threat goes.”
“What?” I nearly choke on the word.
“By order of the Queen.” She lowers her brow at me. “You will deliver this traitor directly to me.”
“This isn’t what Joe intended,” I insist.
The queen cocks her head and lifts a finger, running her long nail against my jawline. “Don’t ever forget who you’re speaking to.” With her last word, she uses the razor-sharp edge of her nail to slice into the flesh of my cheek. I wince and clutch at the fresh wound.
My heart rate quickens, my mouth is dry, my fles
h is hot. Her head tilts in response. “Your eyes ... Your powers are coming in,” she says.
“That’s what they tell me,” I nearly whisper in response.
“Good. It will be. We will have a Magistrate that’s not so handicapped. Now leave me,” she commands as she turns and walks toward her throne. I stand in place for a moment, processing everything that just happened.
Suddenly I hear her voice behind me again. “Oh, and Tynder? Any humans you find who were bitten during the Blazing Moon are to be immediately dealt with.”
I face her. “Dealt with?”
“Yes, your Bimtok can handle that if you don’t have,” she pauses just long enough to offer a sinister smile, “the stomach for it.”
“But—” I begin, then lift a hand to my cheek, running my fingers over the warning scratch. I want to plead for the humans who have no control over being transformed into these shifters, just as I’ve had no choice in what I’ve become. It’s not an argument I will win. She’s watching me, waiting for my response. “Yes, my Queen.”
“Go, now.” Her face is hard as she sits on her great white throne.
I cross the room to the doors I entered through. The doors open, and the first face I see looking at me belongs to Gideon Nash. Queen Boru ordered my one-man personal hit squad to be waiting for me. She had her faithful dog waiting in the wings. The guards left, and it’s only him and Piper who stand waiting for me. The doors fall shut behind me as I silently pass him. Piper scurries up next to me.
“What on earth was that about?” she asks with a worried look on her face.
“Come on; we’ve got work to do,” I answer coolly, refusing to look at Nash.
“You’re not even going to acknowledge me, Tynder?” he asks, staying close behind me.
I stop in my tracks. He has to side-step to avoid running into me. The rage is building within me, disgust over what I’ve become a part of. Looking him directly in those dark discs of chocolate brown I can’t help thinking he looks sad, like an animal that’s been wounded, but I refuse to soften my stance, no matter how weak my knees have become.
