by Erin Johnson
Waiters moved through the chatting crowd with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres in their hands. They wore the royal Air colors, white trimmed in silver, and slipped through the little groups gathered here and there. The women wore gowns and glittering jewelry, while the men wore tuxedos and uniforms and polished shoes that gleamed in the soft lanternlight. I grinned—it was as if the stars of the sky had dropped a little lower for the first night of celebrations.
I stepped through the elegant crowd and willed myself not to fall over in my heels. I spotted a familiar face and let out the breath I’d been holding. I moved over to Emmaline, who stood in a strapless plum gown at the railing. The breeze picked up the chiffon of her dress and blew it about her ankles.
I slid up beside her and rested my clutch on the stone railing. “You look gorgeous.”
She looked up at me, wide-eyed. Then she relaxed and pressed a hand to the diamonds at her neck. “Oh, Imogen, it’s you.” She grinned. “You startled me. Oh, and thank you.”
“For startling you?”
“No, silly, for the compliment.” She turned and looked me up and down. “Wow. Hank is going to die when he sees you. You look windy fly.”
I chuckled. “Is that a good thing?”
“Uh, yeah.” She twirled a lavender lock of hair between her fingers. “It’s an Air Kingdom saying—you haven’t heard it?”
I shook my head and we settled into a moment of silence as we stared out at the lovely and slightly startling vista below us. The Air Kingdom was made up of a bunch of floating islands and balloons, no one knew exactly how many, some connected by rope ladder and pulley systems, and others free floating. The Air Kingdom palace sat at the highest peak of one of the floating islands—the largest one, in fact. Below us, the terra-cotta roofs of the city wound down the side of the slope, much like our island mountain of Bijou Mer.
At the base of the rise, a large pond reflected the stars of the night sky that shone above and all around us. The pond overflowed to form waterfalls that trickled over the sides of the island into the open sky below. By some trick of Air Kingdom magicneering, the water was caught by islands and ships below and recycled back up. It was magic, also, that helped the dense, green trees and vegetation flourish. Like an iceberg, the habitable part of the island only made up the upper tip. I’d seen the exposed dirt underside when we’d flown in earlier this morning on the airship. The waterfalls mingled with the trailing roots on the bottom side of the island. Rope bridges stretched out in every direction to other, smaller floating patches of dirt and greenery, like a spider’s web, with us at the center. All around us the lights from airships twinkled and drifted through the night sky.
“It’s beautiful here.”
Emmaline let out a soft sigh.
I gave her a side-eyed look. “Do you miss it?” She’d left her home here when she married Hank’s oldest brother, Caspian.
“Sometimes. I miss the rainbows, and my family, and the Air Kingdom makes the absolute best cotton candy.” She shot a hand out and lightly touched my arm. “No offense.”
I grinned. “None taken.”
“But I love Bijou Mer. It feels like home now.” She blew out an exhale. “Plus, I don’t have the inventive gene that everyone here seems to have. I always felt a little out of place.”
“I understand that feeling.”
She lifted a light purple brow.
“Growing up with a human family, I always thought there was something different about me.” I ran my fingers over my velvet clutch. “Turns out I was right.”
“Well, good thing, too. Now you’re here, dating a prince, with your magical powers.” Emmaline gave me an exaggerated grin that nearly took up her whole face.
I had to smile back. “Yeah… can’t complain.” Except for my homicidal brother and the insane plot he’d roped me into, life was peachy.
“Have you been inside yet?” She poked my arm. “You have to try the floating dew fountain—the droplets taste like whatever your favorite fruit is. But, like, perfectly ripe.” She looked out over the island again. “I’ve always loved this festival.” She turned quickly back to me. “Spring is in the Air. Do you get it? In the Air.” She lifted her hands and gestured all around us, then waited for my reaction.
I chuckled. “Yeah, Emmaline, I get it. It’s good.”
“Because we’re in the Air… Kingdom.”
I chuckled again. “Hey—why are you out here? Where’s Cas?”
She folded over, her elbows on the railing. “Inside, with everyone else. Hank too, last I saw him.”
“Want to head in?” I looked toward the tall open doorway. Gentle orchestral music floated out into the clear night.
“You go ahead.” She waved a hand and slumped over.
I quirked my lips to the side as I studied her. “Louella Davenport?”
She jerked her head up. “How’d you know?”
“You always look pretty down whenever she’s involved.” I turned around and leaned my back against the rail. “What’s she done this time?”
“Oh, nothing.” Emmaline twirled a lock of purple hair between her fingers. “Just her usual. She made a joke about me looking like the queen of the grapes.” She gestured at her purple dress.
I rolled my eyes. Louella Davenport was Emmaline’s social rival… sort of. Emmaline had told me she’d tried to make friends with her at first. But Emmaline, though a princess of the Air Kingdom, didn’t fit the typical royal mold. Which was probably why she and I got along the best of all Hank’s sisters-in-law. Louella, the tall, blonde, dewy-skinned princess from the Earth Kingdom held some serious social clout. A posse of lesser royalty always hovered around her. They tended to her every whim and of course joined in being nasty to Emmaline, who Louella had chosen to target.
“Well, that was a dumb joke.”
Emmaline sniffed and said in a small voice, “Cas laughed.”
Frustration with Hank’s brother tightened my chest. “If Cas has a fault, it’s that he’s a people pleaser. I’m sure he was just trying to humor Louella, but he should have thought about how that’d make you feel.” I caught myself and pressed a hand to my cheek. “I’m so sorry—that’s your husband, and a prince. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Emmaline grinned. “That’s okay. It made me feel better.”
I gently squeezed her wrist. “You sure you don’t want to head in?”
“No, but you should go ahead. I’m sure Hank’s waiting for you.” She winked. “I’ll be right behind you.” She waved me off with a smile. “Go on now.”
I nodded and pushed off the railing, my champagne in one hand and my clutch tucked under my elbow. I focused on my small, careful steps as I teetered across the balcony. I popped open my clutch and handed the servant at the door my invitation. He waved me in and I stepped into the bustling ballroom. A small orchestra played on a raised stage at the back of the long room, while couples twirled across the dance floor in front of them, and buffet tables piled high with delicacies lined the perimeter. I moved through the groups of partygoers, looking right and left for Hank. One good thing about these shoes—they raised me up so I could see over the crowd better. A flash of light caught my eye. A photographer snapped a photograph of a middle-aged couple, while beside her Madeline L’Orange asked questions and jotted down notes with her magical hovering quill. I found Amelia, all in white, threading her way through the crowd with an assistant on her heels. I kept scanning and finally spotted Prince Cas. I grinned. And there was Hank beside him—I’d know the back of that wavy brunet head anywhere.
I slid through the groups of guests until I stood beside Hank and bumped my shoulder against his. He turned and his face brightened when he saw me. “Imogen.” He smiled. “I waited for you, but your note said you needed more time to get ready, so I hope—” He stopped dead as he really took me in. His face grew serious and his eyes focused in on mine. He moved closer. “You look—”
His hungry gaze made the heat rush to my fac
e… and other places. I suddenly wished Hank and I could sneak off together for some much-needed alone time… that didn’t involve dead bodies in attics.
Cas threw his arm around his younger brother’s neck, effectively ending our moment. I stifled a sigh. “Hi, Cas.” I gave a little wave.
“Imogen!” He flashed his charming white smile and shook Hank. “Hope Harold here is being a gentleman.”
I gave him a tight smile that morphed into a frown as he pulled Hank’s head down and gave him a noogie. Hank pulled himself free and smoothed his wild hair back. He shot Cas a look.
Cas lifted his palms, his blue eyes sparkling. “What? Sorry, that’s right, you go by Hank now.”
Hank gave him a good natured grin and shook his head. “A noogie, Cas? Really?” He slid closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. My chest relaxed. Everything just seemed a lot better all of a sudden.
“Psh.” Cas rolled his eyes. “Just having some fun, these things are so stiff and formal. Lighten up, little brother.”
Hank bent low and whispered against my ear, “I hexed his drink.” He jerked his head at the whiskey glass in Cas’s hand.
I gaped up at him, my eyes twinkling. “You didn’t?”
He nodded. “A simple bladder curse—he’ll think he has to go every five minutes.”
I chuckled. “How devious of you.”
Hank’s eyes sparkled. “I know it’s juvenile, but he started it.”
I laughed out loud, then quickly covered my mouth as guests turned to look at me. I whispered up at Hank, “Well, you’ve got to fight fire with fire, you know.”
Hank frowned. “That’s taking it a little far, don’t you think? I mean, he just gave me a noogie.”
I laughed and put a hand on his arm. “Human saying.”
“Ah.” He grinned at me, then whispered in my ear again. It sent goose bumps up my arms and raised the hairs on my neck. “Want to get out of here soon?”
I turned my head so that my cheek rested against his warm one. “More than you know.”
Cas startled me. “Hey, Imogen, have you seen Emmaline?”
I jumped and it took my mind a moment to come out of the fantasies I’d already started to spin. “Oh uh—yeah, actually. She’s out on the balcony.”
He frowned.
I raised my brows. “I think she’d really love it if you went and found her.”
“Hm, yeah.” Cas turned and spoke to his father.
I stiffened. I hadn’t realized King Roch was right behind him. The man always put me on edge. Francis, too, hovered beside the king and Rhonda, who was decked out in a velvet jumpsuit and thigh-high boots. Go, Rhonda.
“Father, please excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Cas bowed his head and took a step away, but the king shot his arm out and grabbed his son.
“Caspian, where are you going? You can’t leave now, we were just discussing the cloud vapor trade with the head councilor here.” His pale blue eyes bored holes into his son.
Cas’s throat bobbed. “And I wouldn’t miss it, but I need to find Emmaline.” He turned to the waiting councilor. “I’ll just be a minute.”
King Roch sneered. “Your wife can wait. You wouldn’t want to be rude, now would you?”
Cas glanced at the king’s hand on his arm. His fingers dug into Cas’s dress uniform sleeve. Then his eyes slid toward the balcony. He let out a breath. “Of course not, sir.” He plastered a bright smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Please, councilor, go on?”
I shot Hank a concerned look. I rose on my toes and cupped a hand to his ear. “No offense, but your dad’s the worst.”
He pressed his eyes shut and gave me an emphatic nod. His eyes opened and slid to his father, who clapped a hand on Cas’s back, hard, and sent him lurching forward. “Even with Cas, his favorite….” Hank pressed his lips tight together and shook his head.
“Hey, sorry I brought it up.” I bit my lip as I searched for an idea, something to lighten the mood. Ah! “Have you tried the dew drop fountain?”
Hank’s eyes twinkled.
I cocked my head to the side. “Could be good…. Emmaline said I had to try it.”
Hank straightened and offered me his arm. “Well, if Emmaline said so….”
I grinned and slid my hand around his arm. Those muscles….
“Lead the way.”
Suddenly I lost the urge for the dew drop fountain, and wanted to lead Hank off to a secluded part of the royal gardens where we could be alone and….
“Uh!” I jerked as a hard shoulder bumped into my back. Hank caught me against him and kept me upright. I glanced down at my wet toes—I’d spilled a little champagne.
“’Pologies, miss,” a low voice slurred.
I turned, Hank’s big hands still around my shoulders, to find a short, round, balding man behind me. He roughly swiped at his wet tuxedo shirt with a stained handkerchief, which he shoved in his pocket, though part of it still stuck out. The man grabbed my hand in his moist ones and pressed his lips to it—and held them there. I pulled my hand back, but he held tight. I curled my lip, annoyed. I felt Hank’s chest expand as he took in a slow, deep breath of air and held it.
“Let her go.”
The edge to his voice surprised me. I turned to find Hank’s eyes dark and fixed with piercing intensity on the round drunk guy. The lights overhead flickered. The crowd murmured.
I frowned. “Uh… Hank? It’s fine.” I yanked my hand back.
After another moment, Hank exhaled and his face relaxed. The lights returned to full brightness. Okaaayyy… that was kinda freaky.
“Harry, that wasn’t you, was it?” Hank’s mother, Queen Edith, slid up and stood at Hank’s elbow. “The lights?”
“Oh, uh.” Hank looked down and cleared his throat.
Strange that Hank had done that—and was so disconcerted about it. I scratched my neck. “It must’ve been some shortage in the… uh… electrical spell for the generator….” I had no idea what I was saying.
“Oh, Imogen.” His mother smiled wide at me without showing her teeth and her blue eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “I didn’t see you there.” She patted at the chignon she’d swept her graying blonde hair into.
My eyes shifted side to side. I mean, I was standing in Hank’s arms. How did she not see me? I reluctantly pulled back from Hank’s arms and stood beside him.
“You know, my little Harry here used to do that kind of thing all the time. His brothers would smash his favorite toy and he’d lose his temper and before you knew it, the lights would be flickering, the ground shaking, the forest uprooting.” She tittered and pinched his arm. “My little troublemaker. We thought the palace had a poltergeist for a bit there.”
Hank pressed his eyes shut and sighed. “Mother.”
“Did you say forest?” I lifted a finger. Maybe Hank’s out-of-control powers had been a little more serious than I’d assumed.
“I always said boys will be boys.” Queen Edith pressed a gloved finger to her pink lips. “Let’s not talk of this more though.” She glanced over her shoulder to where King Roch stood speaking with Cas and the councilor. “Harry’s father couldn’t understand it then, and can’t take any talk of it now.” She sobered. “It puts him in quite an unpleasant mood.”
I frowned.
“My goodness, is this your sister?” The drunk man who’d bumped into me winked at the queen. He held a hand out to her. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Hank and I exchanged flat looks, but the queen giggled a little behind her hand. It turned into a yawn. I grinned—the woman was eternally in need of a nap. She offered her other hand to the round guy and he bent low and pressed his lips to it. He bowed so low in fact that he swayed and nearly toppled over, but saved himself by stumbling a few steps to one side.
“Pardon. I’m Sir Henrick Finkle. And you are?”
She batted her lashes. “Queen Edith of the Water Kingdom.”
Henrick pressed a pudgy hand
to his chest, a champagne stain still visible on his shirt. “My goodness, how lovely to meet you.” He turned and waved frantically. “You just have to meet my associate. Urs, get over here.”
I flashed my eyes at Hank. “Urs? As in…?”
“It appears so.” Hank slid his arm around my waist and I stepped beside him as Urs Volker walked stiffly up to our little group. He stood with his hands linked behind his back and gave us a curt bow. His brows jumped a little when he noticed Hank and me.
“Ah. Goot evenink.”
Hank offered his hand. “Good to see you again, Urs.”
Urs blinked his gray eyes and shook Hank’s hand. I offered him mine next and he took it and nodded at me. Then he straightened, squared his shoulders, and clasped his hands behind his back again. His buzz-cut white-blond hair contrasted with his jet-black military uniform, which was trimmed in the Air Kingdom colors of white and silver.
“You’ve already met?” Henrick snorted. “Wonderful!” He clapped his hands together. “Well then, as you know, Urs is gunning to be Carclaustra’s new warden.”
The mention of the prison made my stomach clench with nerves. I glanced at Hank. I hated keeping Horace’s plan from him, and our involvement in it—but I had to keep him safe. I nodded to myself, remembering some wise wizard’s advice. Keep it secret, keep him safe… or something like that. I narrowed my eyes and searched my memory. Was that from Lord of the Rings?
Urs dipped his chin. “I am not gunnink. I haf been performing za duties of za varden since Bernhardt Beckham’s murder.” His eyes slid to me. “I thank you for your assistance een capturink hees killer.”
I nodded in response.
Henrick rose on his toes and plucked a new champagne flute from a passing waiter. He took a swig and shook a finger at Urs. “Now, now. You’re a modest man, but don’t tell me you don’t want the job.”
“Eet ees unfortunate zat Bernhardt ees gone. But een hees absence, I vish our Carclaustra to continue to serf eets fery eemportant role een keepink za kingdom’s most dangerous criminals avay from za public.” Urs cleared his throat. “And I belief zat I haf za mosht experience and in-depth knowledge of za prison.”
