by H. D. Gordon
Theo seemed to accept this, if reluctantly, though it was obvious they were in disagreement. “We’ll need to name a new Head of Council since your uncle is gone, and a new Keeper also… unless you intend to hold that position as well.”
Surah did not miss the slight snap to his tone, and after the day she’d had, it pissed her off more than it probably should have. “If you’ve got something on your mind, Lord Gray, just say it. We’ve both been drained physically and emotionally today, and if we’re going to work together to save this kingdom, we need to clear the air, anyway. So say what you’ve got to say already, and let’s be done with it.”
There was no façade to her demeanor, no royal composure to speak of. Theo sat up a bit straighter, his face becoming as serious as the grave. “Fine,” he said. “Do you love him?”
Though she probably should not have been, Surah was shocked by this question. There was no need to ask to whom he was referring, because they both knew it very well. She answered as honestly as she could manage, mostly because she supposed Theo deserved the truth, which was a statement she would have scoffed at had someone said it to her yesterday.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know what to think about that man.”
She waited for him to say something, but Theo was silent for so long that Surah had to steal a glance at him to try and read his reaction. The Head Hunter stared out at the city below, the profile of his handsome face all fine lines and edges, a picture of introspection. It was a side of him she had never seen before, though she’d known him for most of forever.
Just when Surah was getting ready to say something else, the silence somehow too much for her to bear, Theo released a heavy sigh and surprised her by turning toward her on the bench the two were sharing and taking her hands into his. She had removed her gloves after they’d returned to the castle, her fingers nearly on fire after all the Magic that had flowed out of them, and she was surprised to find Theo’s hands were pleasantly cool, if a touch rough.
He met her eyes with a sincerity that nearly took her aback. “Your father offered me your hand in marriage before he passed,” he said.
And like that, Surah was pissed off again. She opened her mouth to protest, but Theo smiled, speaking again before she could. “I don’t want you to marry me because your father agreed to it,” he said, his voice lower and more apprehensive than she’d ever heard it. “I’ve loved you since we were just children, Surah. I used to try so hard to get your attention.” He laughed, his eyes going distant again. “I was always climbing trees or doing flips or attempting dangerous spells, in hopes that you would just look my way. I forced myself to date other women, thinking maybe you would get jealous and realize my affections.” He shook his head. “I was a fool.”
For the life of her, Surah did not know what to say to this. Her mouth fell open, but once again, Theo beat her to the punch. “I know now that I need to earn your love and your trust. I want to stand by you in this dark time, and prove to you that I can be worthy of you.” His hand came up and rested on her cheek, and Surah did not push it away.
“I don’t know what to say, Theo,” she said, her heat jack-hammering in her chest. It was as if the entire world were spinning out of focus, the picture blurring and the sound jumbling.
A half smile pulled up his lips, his eyes shining like the stars above them. “That’s the first time in nearly a thousand years that you’ve called me by my given name,” he said.
Surah found that it was becoming harder to breathe, and she swallowed once and looked down at her hands, his stare somehow too much to hold.
“I don’t know what you want,” she whispered. “And I don’t know if I can give it to you.”
Theo’s hand came up and he gently lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her to meet his eyes again. “I want you to choose me over Charlie Redmine,” he said. “Not for any other reason than that you want to. I want you to give me a shot… just a chance at making you fall in love with me.”
Samson lifted his head now, his eyes flicking between the two of them and narrowing, his ears swiveled toward the intimate exchange. For Surah, the entire world seemed to have paused, as if the very Heavens and Earth were holding their breath.
Her answer came before she could think about it, the word falling from her lips the way one falls off a ledge where an endless abyss waits below.
“Alright,” she said.
“Alright?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with a hope that was enough to make her insides twist.
She nodded. “Alright.”
CHAPTER 9
SURAH
Theo left her shortly thereafter, kissing her hand and bidding her good night. Despite being wiped out both mentally and physically, Surah found that her mind would not stop turning over, her thoughts refusing to shut off even though her body desperately needed a good sleep.
Samson remained out on the balcony while she showered and donned fresh clothing. After brushing her hair and teeth, she climbed into her bed and snapped her fingers, the light in the room extinguishing with a last bit of Magic that took way more effort than usual. When Sam slipped into bed beside her, the enormous weight of him making the mattress dip deeply, she wrapped her arm around his neck and rubbed the soft, thick fur there.
She spoke aloud to him in the darkness, the way she had done for as long as they’d been together. “What’s bothering you, my love?” she whispered, her violet eyes staring into the amber of his, his lovely feline face close enough to kiss.
Sam’s large chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and his soothing voice sounded in her head. I may have to leave you soon, he said, but I will return.
For several heartbeats, Surah couldn’t respond. Her fingers tightened in his fur and she pulled herself closer to his warm, soft body, burying her head in his strong chest. His mitt-sized paw went around her, holding her in return.
When she spoke, her voice was much smaller than she would’ve allowed it to be with anyone else. “Where will you be going?” she asked.
Back to the jungles of my homeland. The way he said this made Surah’s heart ache, though she could not say why. The cat’s tone was somehow anguished, nostalgic, and resigned all at once.
“And when will you return?”
I’m not sure, dear one… Will you be all right in my absence?
“If I say no, will you still leave?”
Have I ever been able to deny you something you’ve asked of me?
This brought a smile to her lips, but it was shadowed by the darkness surrounding them. “But you don’t want me to ask that of you,” she said. It was not a question. “You have to go do whatever it is you’re going to do.”
Samson’s warm, rough tongue came out and licked Surah’s cheek. He did not miss the slight taste of salt that was her silent tears. That’s right, love.
“Is it something you promised to do to be able to find me when Black Heart had me captive in that cave? Is it because of me?”
Sam said nothing to this, only breathed deeply the scent of his mistress. Surah cried herself to sleep that night, something she could not remember doing since she was a child, after she’d lost her mother and sister. The thick fur of her tiger absorbed the tears, and though the road ahead was looking bleaker by the moment, she felt safe while the Great Cat held her, his heart beating just under her ear.
The thought of losing Samson, her best friend and most trusted ally, haunted her thoughts as they grew slower and thicker with approaching sleep. But the final thought to cross her mind before sleep took her fully was of Charlie Redmine.
It was a prayer, in fact, that despite the role he’d played in her misery, she hoped that all was well wherever he was.
And that maybe, before all this mess was over, she’d get to see his face one more time.
***
Morning came the way mornings always do, as if by Magic. Surah opened her eyes to the golden glow of a new day, the sun shining down on her as she lay in her bed at juxtaposition to her mood.<
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Good morning, beautiful, Sam said, nuzzling her face with his cool nose.
Surah sat up and stretched, yawning. “Good morning, Sam.”
When a knock sounded on the door, Surah let out a growl that made Sam’s mouth twitch in amusement. The duties of a queen never end.
Some of her strength had returned during the night, the sleep doing its job and recharging her body. She had slept like a rock, and though her heart felt as heavy as a boulder, Surah felt she could face the day, which would undoubtedly be a challenging one.
Today, she would lay her father to rest and take his place as Queen of the Sorcerer Kingdom, with all the people of the Sorcerer City bearing witness. She told the caller to hold on for just a moment, and got dressed the old fashioned way, deciding a conservation of Magic would be wise in the foreseeable future. Better to be able to throw a powerful Fireball in a dire situation than to be lazy and use up strength on the mundane tasks. Not having the Magic had certainly increased her appreciation of it, as the absence of things is wont to do.
Sam retreated to the balcony, taking up perch on its stone ledge, as he was apt to do whenever their room received visitors. Surah felt her heart break anew when she remembered what her cat had told her last night; that he would be leaving her soon. He’d promised he would return, so why did the thought of it make her feel like crying?
She sighed and opened the door to her room… and was nearly tackled to the ground immediately after.
Her personal guard, Noelani, was not muted in her show of affection. She swept Surah up into a hug that was almost crushing under the female Hunter’s muscular arms. Surah hugged her in return, realizing how much it comforted her, and how much she’d needed it.
“You had us so damn worried,” Noelani whispered, and the sincerity in her tone brought a small smile to Surah’s face.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Let her go before you turn her fragile bones to dust,” Lyonell said, standing behind his wife and rolling his eyes, making Surah’s smile grow wider.
“Who’re you calling ‘fragile bones’?” she teased.
Another voice spoke up, deep and chocolaty, and Surah peered around Lyonell to see Bassil. “I believe he was referring to you, my dear,” said the Shaman, kissing her cheek as he too entered the room.
Surah shut the door behind him, feeling instantly better with just their presence. It was easy, in times of hardship and grief, to forget how many wonderful people she really did have in her life.
“I’m glad you’re all here,” she said.
Bassil took her hands into his large, dark ones. “And we’re all very sorry about the loss of your father,” he said, his head bowing in respect. “King Syrian was a good man, an honorable man.”
Both Noelani and Lyonell nodded their agreement, heads bowing in respect. Bassil placed his large hands gently on Surah’s shoulders, and she took a deep breath that made her chest shudder. “When would you like to hold the ceremonies?” Bassil asked.
“Today,” she said.
Bassil only nodded, but Noelani and Lyonell exchanged a look. “It doesn’t have to be so soon,” Noelani said gently. “You can have some time to mourn privately. You’re the queen now.”
Surah shook her head, exhibiting a strength she wasn’t sure she owned. “It needs to be today. I’m not the only one grieving, and there’s the important business of protecting the throne. The Fae’s attack can’t go unanswered.” She swallowed hard, thinking of Charlie. Always thinking of Charlie. Sighing, she added, “None of what’s happened can go unanswered.”
Silence fell between them for a few moments. They knew Surah was right, and they knew they would mourn and commemorate over great deaths today, only to go out tomorrow and cause more of the same. Death after all, could only be paid for with death.
Not true, dear one, Sam spoke up in her mind, having slipped back into the room silently. Only life can balance death.
Surah sighed deeply. “You may be right, Sam, and yet…”
The Great Tiger brushed against her side as he went to stand beside her. And yet, he agreed.
“Bassil, please schedule and prepare the ceremonies for this afternoon,” she said, and drew some strength from Samson, because she was fresh out. “Invite the entire kingdom. I want to send off anyone who’s lost someone during the Fae attacks along with my father. And after that’s done, we’ll hold my coronation, and I’ll address the people as their new queen.”
Another silence followed this, and this time it was Lyonell who spoke up. “We don’t know how smoothly any of that will go, my queen,” he said. “The people are frightened… angry. They want blood.”
The sound of these words, so plainly and truthfully spoken, made Surah want to cringe, but she bit back her grimace, and her voice was equally plain and truthful when she answered, “And blood is exactly what I’m going to give them.”
CHAPTER 10
CHARLIE
When the Fae Queen came to see him, Charlie was sitting in much the same position he’d been sitting in for hours, his head resting in his hands and his handsome face impassive.
A silence preceded her arrival, the forest growing quite and still in a way that made the hair on the back of Charlie’s neck stand on end. Her tinkling, almost childlike laughter reached him first, and then the strong floral scent of her as she seemed to drift across the forest floor toward him, the light pink fog that hovered near the ground parting in wisps as she approached.
Tristell the Fae Queen halted just out of reach before Charlie’s cage, looking down at him with a devious smile and slanted eyes. Her long, feathery dress shifted color as she did so, as if it were somehow alive. Her wings were larger than any Fae female he’d ever met, the feathers that composed them two-to-three feet long. Every once in a while, one would dislodge itself and float merrily down to the forest floor.
The devil in disguise, she was.
“Michael’s brother is a pretty one,” she said, her voice deceptively juvenile. “Prettier than Michael, even.”
Charlie said nothing to this, his lip curling slightly on its own accord. This did not seem to faze the Fae Queen a bit. Her slanted eyes studied him for an uncomfortable moment, then they darted around the trees, as if she could see things there that he could not, and really, she probably could. The true power of the Fae rested in Mother Nature and all of its offerings.
“The Fae children like you, Michael’s brother,” Tristell said, revealing sharp teeth with a smile that was somehow both terrifying and beautiful. “The females have been hanging around, haven’t they?”
It was a question they both knew she already knew the answer to, so again, Charlie said nothing.
“You are pretty,” she repeated, eyes narrowing, “but what is so special about Michael’s brother that he can capture the heart of a Sorcerer princess as well as that of the Forest Children? I don’t see all the special they see, but yes, yes, Michael’s brother is pretty, indeed.”
“What do you want?” Charlie asked, growing tired of listening to the Fae Queen’s annoying ability to hold entire conversations with herself.
“It’s obviously not a great mind,” she said, “asking stupid questions all the time.”
“You’ve started a war,” growled Charlie. “The Hunters will come, and they’ll burn this whole forest to the ground.”
With those words, a switch seemed to flip within the Fae Queen. She threw her head back so far Charlie thought it might detach, and let out a screeching caw that sounded both birdlike and insect-like. From her crouched position, her wings spread out to their full eight-foot span, and she shot up into the trees like a fairy rocket. Tufts of pastel-colored, cottony leaves fell from above, and a host of exotic birds squawked angrily and took flight as well. Charlie watched in both shock and utter amazement as the Fae Queen bounced from tree to tree like the mad woman she was.
Only certain words were even intelligible, most of it spoken in the chirping language of the Fae people,
but one did not need to speak Faevian to know that whatever was coming out of her mouth was surely curse words and angry proclamations.
After an indeterminable amount of time, she came crashing back down to the floor of the forest, the pink fog whooshing up in little plumes around her clawed feet. She landed very close to Charlie’s cage now, her enraged face near enough to kiss. “That was a terrible thing to say, Michael’s brother!” she exclaimed. “You will have to pay for that!”
She snapped her long-nailed fingers, and the thick, thorn-riddled vines enclosing him began to tightened in a way that made the plant appear to be far more intelligent than plant life is usually considered.
Charlie’s heart picked up pace as the inch-long thorns drew nearer and nearer his skin, slowly, as if it knew the anticipation was terrifying. As the vines made contact with his skin, the thorns tearing through the flesh as easily as would the teeth of a Wolf, Charlie had to bite down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood so as not to cry out in pain.
“There is no greater travesty than burning a forest, Michael’s brother!” the Fae Queen screeched. “To even speak of doing so is blasphemy! Why, you Sorcerers are no better than humans!” With this, she snapped her fingers, and the vines yanked him to the ground, the thorns digging in so deep on the side on which he fell that this time he could doing nothing to keep back the scream that tore up his throat. He was bleeding from minor lacerations from neck-to-toe now, and the combination of all of them was somehow worse than the larger injuries he’d had in the past. Charlie spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground, and it dribbled down his chin, his cheek pressed against the forest floor.
The earth absorbed the blood as though it were swallowing it, and the very clear misfortune of his situation was brought home to him. This land he was being held captive in was as foreign as they came, and if Surah were to bring an army here, he wasn’t entirely sure they wouldn’t be at a terrible disadvantage. Every leaf, tree and vine seemed to be under the intimate control of the mad Queen.
One more swift kick to his midsection that knocked the last bit of remaining air out of him, and the Fae Queen turned on her heel and stomped haughtily off into the trees, the natural sounds of the forest returning gradually with her departure.
