by WB McKay
Owen smirked. "My guess is probably better than yours, but that human expression is close enough. What Paulo said seems in line with what I've read, though." His smirked slumped down into a frown. "So, how do you know that guy anyway?"
"I met him in a bar when I was researching this case." I shrugged. "I think he was trying to flirt with me."
"Did you kiss him? He looked at you like he knew what it was like to kiss you."
I gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, it sounds like you're jealous."
Owen chuckled, but a puff of smoke escaped his nose. He was jealous. "You didn't answer my question."
"I don't kiss guys I meet in bars." As soon as it was out of my mouth, I realized it wasn't exactly the truth. I'd only been able to say it because it hadn't occurred to me. I wouldn't be able to say it again.
Owen must have caught the look in my eyes because he said, "Our first kiss was in a bar."
My cheeks started to burn. "That wasn't our real first kiss. You thought you were kissing someone else, so it doesn't count."
He scooted closer to me on the bench and wrapped an arm around my waist. His eyes were sparkling in that way that turned my insides to jello. "I see. Well, I'll need a lot more data points to discern which kisses count and which don't. That way I'll be able to set proper parameters for classification."
I leaned in closer. "Oh, talk nerdy to me, science man."
"You like that?" he said, his eyes brightening with adorable curiosity.
"Yes, I do." I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "But we're working a case, so we'll have to put that on hold. What do you know about what Paulo was saying?"
Owen relaxed in his chair, but his shoulders remained tense. "I don't know what my mom is up to, or what he is up to, exactly. I make it a point to stay out of politics." He sighed heavily. "You know they want me on the council, right?"
"She wants to groom you to take her place?"
"No, she wants me to join the council at her side," he said it like this was common knowledge. This was what I'd been talking about. Even he assumed I knew more about him than I did, because I should.
But I was done with not asking questions.
"Why don't you?"
"What?"
"Why don't you want to be on the council?"
"I want to live my own life," he said. "I shouldn't be on the council. I have no interest in it. They think I should have a say in the lives of everyone in Volarus and all the fae on Earth only because I'm the most powerful dragon in Volarus, besides my mother, of course. If I could, I would have drained my magic years ago."
I worked very hard to keep the shock off my face. I knew this about him. He'd never said it outright, but when we'd met, he'd put on a necklace that drained his magic knowing full well that it would have led to his death. I'd never asked. It hurt when I did now. "Why?"
His eyes were sad when he said, "It's a long story."
I didn't think he was being evasive. I believed he'd tell me someday, when we weren't on a mission of dire consequence. Assuming a day like that came. "Okay," I said. "So back to the mission. What does the fact that your mother wants you to join the council have to do with this whole thing?"
"We don't know what's going on," he said. "This is bad. You understand that the members of the fae council are always fighting each other?"
"That's their job," I said. "They fight with each other over important stuff. That's the political system."
"The most powerful magic user wins the argument through magic battles or through slyly screwing the other over. That's hardly a good way to run a governing body."
"Not my business," I said on reflex.
"It seems to be your business today," he countered. "The Golden Fleece would tip the scales in one person's favor. What's the point of a council if one person has The Golden Fleece?"
"You really think the Fleece will give them the power to stand against everyone else?"
"They'd likely have some allies," he said. "And yeah, it might be enough to tip the scales. Like I said, I can only speculate."
"What does Supervillain want to do with that kind of power?"
"More guesses," he said, "but you call the guy Supervillain. You have to have similar thoughts."
I sighed and leaned my head on his shoulder. "I don't know how we're supposed to know what's best."
"What do you mean?"
I pulled out of his embrace and paced around the table. "I mean, you just basically outlined how it would be bad if one council member was making all the decisions instead of a whole council with all their opinions fighting it out, and yet I'm supposed to decide whether to let some guy have this power or not. I think he's up to no good, but what if he isn't? What if he is a selfish, sneaky bastard, but what he wants is actually for the good of everybody? What do I know? I don't want to make choices for the whole world."
Owen's laugh was surprisingly bitter. "Tell me about it."
"Owen." I narrowed my gaze at him. "What does all this have to do with your mother wanting you to be on the council?"
"It's not just my mom. A lot of people resent my flippant disregard for what they see as my duty." He pushed away from the table. "They're not wrong, entirely. My magic is strong. If I joined the council, I'd be a powerful force. Powerful enough to change things how I wanted them. The balance of the council would change. I know that. I don't think that's how it should be--I think the council should debate things with words, not battle them out with magic. But that's not how things are. And if… If Erik Bresnan gets ahold of the Fleece, and all of this goes south, I'd have to join the council to do what I could, wouldn't I?" He paced around the table. "I mean, it's selfish, but my life is finally coming together and I look at that ridiculous man with the orange eyelids and I can see it crumbling. Of course this is happening now. Of course it is. This is my life. I was so foolish to think I was getting away from it."
"Owen. Snap the hell out of it." His eyes focused on me. "You said it. We don't know what's going on."
He looked like he thought we'd already lost. "My mom probably does have MOD in her pocket. You've seen how Hammond is."
It was true. My boss loved him a council member. "Having MOD in your pocket means little when you're a member of the fae council. They all have bigger connections than that, especially Lana Kinney." She was considered the leader of the council. What did MOD matter to her?
"You said Erik has been collecting powerful magic. MOD would be useful for something like that. I'm not saying MOD is everything, but it would be a powerful ally. And you said he's responsible for outing the werewolves. He's got bigger plans."
I could see the picture Owen was painting. It was fuzzy and full of unfinished spaces, but my gut didn't like it. "We have proof of very little," I said.
Owen ignored that, the same as I would have. He was fidgeting with everything he could get his hands on. "I don't trust my mother, but that's common knowledge. And Paulo and Erik would know that you know me. My mom and Mr. Supervillain could be working together for all I know."
"He hangs around her like a shadow," I reluctantly said. "The best publicity photos at events always have him in the background of shots featuring your mother."
"See?" he demanded. "But it doesn't make sense!" he lowered his voice. "I don't think my mother is interested in exposing us to the humans." He shook a finger in the air. "And despite everything… well… I don't know. I don't want to believe my mother is worried about diluting magic by associating with lesser beings."
"What?"
"You know," he said.
"I don't. Spell it out for me."
"When Paulo says 'we need to take control of the blending with humans' he is saying that mixing with beings without magic, or with less powerful magic, is seen as diluting magic."
"Owen."
Owen held his hands palm out in a placating gesture. "It's awful to even say that, I know, but it's what some people think."
"Of course it's what some people think," I said. "Is that why
Ava doesn't talk to your parents?"
Owen's eyes widened, and then he shook his head and stared off. Then he looked like he was going to be sick and shook his head more vehemently. "I don't know," he said finally.
"Well, shit." I felt like I was going to be sick. "So that's what Supervillain believes."
"We don't know that."
Maybe he didn't, but my gut sure did. As for Lana Kinney, I'd have to think about it for a while. Was I really going to start stalking another council member? No time to worry about that while I was already dealing with the disaster of the Golden Fleece.
I walked over to Owen and he wrapped an arm around my waist. We made our way back to the tent in silence. My thoughts were too bloated to add any more words to them.
The beds provided were ridiculously comfortable, but it took me forever to get to sleep. I was so far out of my league with this mess that I thought about just getting up and walking away. Somebody else could deal with it. I wasn't anything special. I didn't know anything about the politics involved. Somebody who'd been raised for a life of drama and intrigue could take over. Then I realized that person was Owen, and he'd been running away from it his whole life.
If I didn't get my shit together and win that Fleece, Owen would be forced to take it all on in my place and then some. And he'd be doing it while a potential enemy had an immense boost in power, because I had no doubt that my team wouldn't be allowed to compete if their leader quit.
When I thought about it like that, there was no choice to be made. Even if Supervillain's goals were for the best, which I highly doubted, I couldn't let him get control of the Fleece. It was too much power. There was no way that could be for the best overall. I had to trust that.
With my mind made up, I drifted into a fitful sleep. I was plagued with dreams of dragons, fire, and golden sheep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep all of the sheep in their corral, and when I did, dragons kept eating them.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dawn is not a time I'd recommend anyone get up. Sunrises are just sunsets in reverse and not worth the hype. The only benefit is that nobody looks at you funny when you down a gallon of coffee while watching the sun rise. Unless they're a particularly worried group of friends, or a bunch of pirates you're trying to beat in a competition for the Golden Fleece.
Fine, I was drinking too much coffee, and everyone was giving me wary looks. If the mystical Greeks running this show didn't want me to drink it, they wouldn't have put out a pot that magically refilled itself. "Stop looking at me like that," I snapped at Owen. "I barely slept last night." I took another swig of the most amazing coffee I'd ever had in my life and earned another concerned look. "We're about to compete in what is probably the most deadly round of this whole mess. It helps to be conscious for that sort of thing. Don't you think?"
Owen gave me a weak smile and brushed my hair back from my face. "I understand. We'll do amazing because we have you. You don't need to worry."
I wanted to tell him that I wasn't worried, but my raw lower lip told a different story. "I appreciate the encouragement."
The pirates were rather quiet, but sadly, didn't look incapacitated from their overindulgence the night before. An amazing liver was likely a prerequisite to being a pirate. As much as they'd blabbered on, we hadn't learned much of value about them, either. The ice fae could add a light freeze to chill his drinks. I couldn't see how to turn that knowledge into an advantage moving forward, especially without knowing what the challenge would be.
Tara looked downright cheerful as she sharpened her sword. I couldn't afford to let her confidence unnerve me. I could be confident. I'll confidence all their faces right off.
I put down the coffee and took some deep breaths until I was sure my thoughts were making sense. Today is going to be a good day. Today, I'm going to lead my team to safety, and recover the Golden Fleece. There. That was better.
Someone I didn't recognize appeared at the end of the table. Short and curvy, the fae stood patiently waiting for everyone to notice her. None of us had heard her approach, judging by the surprise on everyone's faces. "I am here to escort you to your final trial."
I downed the last of my cup of coffee and stood. I checked that my swords were secure in their scabbards and fell in line behind the rest of the group. Owen stayed at my side and helped me into the boat when we got to the beach.
Our little guide didn't seem interested in providing us any other information. The pirates peppered her with questions, but she didn't even bother shaking her head. She drove the boat with a steady hand, seeming sure of her destination despite the apparent lack of anything in the vicinity other than a couple of small islands that rapidly disappeared behind us.
When we eventually slowed down I felt the cool tingle of glamour break over my skin.
My eyes were overwhelmed by what they found behind the glamour.
Floating in front of us was the largest arena I'd ever seen. Rather than being plucked out of the past like I would have expected, it looked like it had been modeled after modern sports stadiums. Except for the fact that it was in the middle of the ocean.
The inside was an entirely different story. We filed into the arena behind our guide. There were muttered comments about the size of the building and its purpose, but mostly, we stared. Instead of holding thousands of seats and a field of grass at the bottom, the arena held dozens of platforms, scaffolding, and swinging ropes. Some platforms only looked accessible to someone who could fly. On several of them were various weapons ranging from bows to swords to huge spears and poleaxes. At the bottom of the arena where human players would normally battle over a ball, was a giant pool that was really a large section of the ocean.
"So, it's to be a brawl then," said Julian, the snake shifter. He looked excited at the prospect. "Let's start stabbing things."
Tara cuffed him in the back of the head. "If it were that simple then why wouldn't there be ground at the bottom? Idiot."
He grumbled an argument, but I definitely agreed with her assessment, and I didn't like it at all. The water coupled with the size of the place left me with a queasiness in my stomach. Or maybe that was all the coffee. I really needed to cut back when this job was over.
When we reached the edge of the pool, a familiar wispy form appeared above the water.
"Welcome to the third and final trial for the Golden Fleece. By making it here, you have proven yourselves capable leaders and worthy teams. Now you have one final obstacle to conquer." The wispy figure held up their hand and the water began to churn as if it were boiling. A huge column pierced the surface followed by a dozen more. They were as thick as the redwoods that supported my apartment and covered in spiky white spines and circular protrusions. When the columns curled and grasped the edge of the arena I recognized them for what they were.
"Tentacles," I breathed.
At the same time, a massive, bulbous head with a clacking beak emerged from the depths.
"Kraken!" shouted one of the pirates.
My swords appeared in my hands, almost of their own accord. Everyone scrambled for positions until the wispy, not-quite ghost called for silence. He hovered over the center of the pool, as calm as if the kraken's writhing limbs weren't making a storm of the previously calm pool.
"Be still," the sort-of-ghost commanded. "You will have two minutes to prepare yourselves. The challenge will end only when the kraken has been slain. At that time, the trial for the Golden Fleece will conclude. Your time for preparation begins now."
I pulled my team close around me while the pirates darted up the scaffolding, running for weapons. Tara called out orders, pointing with far too many limbs. I shook my head to pull it from the vision of her scaling a ship's mast with hands free for checking her phone and waving hello to passing vessels.
"I'm going to try and end this fast. If I fail, play to your strengths. Owen, you know what I'm up to. You roast us some squid as soon as I'm clear. Art, harass and distract from the water. Help any of us w
ho get tossed in. Enid, see if you can charm this thing and do what damage you can with Art. Ava, see what your ghosty friends can do and call out any weak spots or trouble that you see coming."
Everyone nodded their assent, looking grim.
"Hey, none of these doom and gloom looks," I chided. I gave them my most devious grin. "We've made it this far. You heard the ghosty. We're worthy."
"Wraith," corrected Ava. "He's a wraith, not a ghost. A whole other thing." Her nose twitched like a bunny, making my grin turn into a toothy smile.
"Fine, the wraith says we're worthy. We can do this. We'll find a weakness, exploit it, and walk out of here with the Fleece and one hell of a story to tell. You are all extreme badasses and I won't have you suffering from a lack of confidence." The longer I talked, the straighter their backs got. "Now, let's go fry us some squid!" There was a round of cheers.
The wraith's hand dropped without so much as a word of warning, and the kraken's tentacles lashed out in a dozen directions.
"Awwww, come on, you gotta say it!" I shouted at the fading wraith. Their only response was to dim out of existence. "Fine. I'll do it. Release the kraken!"
Owen gave me a knowing smile and then shifted to his dragon form in a flash of fire.
"Um, it's already been released," said Enid. "Time to get to work."
I wanted to explain, but she was right. Besides, she shifted and jumped into the water like I'd asked her to. By the time I stripped out of my wet suit and shifted to crow, her beautiful siren song was drifting through the air.
In the few seconds since the battle started, everything had turned to chaos. Owen was clamped onto one of the tentacles and shaking it like a very large dog with a chew toy. That was an observation I probably shouldn't share with him when this was over. Tara lobbed spears at the kraken, peppering the area around its eyes. That was all I was able to see before a wind picked up and blew water at me in a vertical sheet.
My newly formed crow shape was swept up and tossed aside. I barely clutched onto a pole in time to avoid being slammed into the kraken's waiting mouth. Just before the water hit the kraken, it was frozen into needle sharp spears of ice. That had to be the work of Saya, the ice fae, and Niko, the one with all the gills. Niko had power over the wind. Building up a gust to move some water for Saya to turn into ice was a great tactic. It would have devastated a smaller opponent. Unfortunately, the size of the kraken made the relatively small spikes of ice a minor irritation. It would probably work better if their selkie shot its larger jets of water instead, but helping them defeat the kraken wasn't my business. I had my own team to worry about.
