by Amy Sumida
“I suppose,” I sighed, and shucked off my jacket and shirt.
I pulled on the bodice, and Sara quickly laced up the back for me. Then I turned to look in the mirror, expecting something sort of sexy. It would be under the hoodie, so it shouldn't be so . . . holy canaries!
“Is this a magical bodice?” I gaped at the mounds of flesh reflected in the mirror. “I look like I've grown two cup sizes!”
“It's all in the way you lace it,” Sara smirked. “You gotta tighten it from the center out. What you have is not as important as how you display it.”
“Evidently.” I turned and admired the way it nipped in my waist to Elizabethan proportions, how the laces trailed over my butt, and how the relic poured jewels across my breasts in the most intriguing way. “Damn . . . just . . . damn.” I pushed my fist out to Sara for a bump, “Well done.”
“What are you doing?” Sara eyed my fist.
“You're supposed to make a fist and knock yours into mine,” I explained, keeping my fist out there. “It's called a fist bump.”
“Okay.” Sara hesitantly followed my instructions. “And now what?”
“That's it,” I said. “It's like an expression of victory between two people.”
“Oh”-Sara thought about it-“so it's like a physical huzzah?”
“Yes, it's a physical huzzah,” I chuckled.
“Then, thank you, Your Majesty.” Sara held out her fist.
“Huzzah, Sara.” I bumped it back. “Now”-I swung on the leather hoodie-“what do you think?”
“Most excellent, Your Majesty.” Sara smirked. “In fact, I hope this becomes the new fashion. I'd like to wear one myself.”
“I'll bring you back some jeans when I go home,” I said casually, but her face fell, and she just stared at me blankly. “Oh shit, did I say something wrong? Am I not supposed to do that?”
“No, it's just . . .” Sara blinked. “You'd bring me a gift? Me? I'm just your maid.”
“Oh please,” I pushed her shoulder. “You aren't just anything, and you know it. You're kind of awesome and you're my friend.”
“I'm your . . .” She blinked again. “I'm a huge bitch! Why would you want me to be your friend?”
“Cause you're the right kind of bitch, and I need to hang with my own kind.” I hugged her. “Plus, you made me feel welcome here. Thank you, Sara.”
“You're welcome, Your Majesty,” she sniffled.
“Don't go all crybaby on me,” I teased her.
“Oh please”-she mimicked me-“I was just trying to make you feel special.”
“And she's back.” I headed to the door. “Let's see how Torin likes my new look.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Torin was already gone when I got back to his bedroom. He'd left me some breakfast in the dining room, and a note asking me to meet him at the training field. After eating, I went downstairs to find him.
He wasn't with the troops this time, but standing on the rise I had used to view the training before. The other royals were with Torin, as were the commanders of the armies, going over the maneuvers they had mapped out. If we went with King Edmond's more sneaky approach, we'd have to change our tactics. But it was good to have contingency plans.
By the time I crested the rise, I'd completely forgotten that I had dressed differently. I was just so comfortable in my old jeans, and the jacket covered most of the corset. With my hands stuck deep in the leather pockets, I felt ready for anything the day brought me.
Except for the utter amazement I was greeted with.
“What is it?” I looked around at the shocked faces.
“What are you wearing?” Oonagh sneered.
“And where can I get my own?” Queen Teagan swished her way over to me in her heavy skirts.
“Nice bustier, Lady Marmalade,” Cerberus teased.
“I felt like being comfortable today.” I shrugged. “These are my normal clothes. With exception of the bodice, which my maid, Sara, created for me this morning. She refused to let me out of the room in the T-shirt I'd been wearing.”
“Who is this woman?” Torin slid his hand along the inner edge of my jacket, casually pushing it open and inhaling sharply in appreciation as he did so. “I must thank her personally. She deserves jewelry. Lots of jewelry.”
“And please ask her to inspire more women to dress in this fashion.” King Declan subtly angled his head to check out my ass.
“It's Sara.” I pushed Torin's hand away with a grin, and ignored Declan's ogling. I'd become accustomed to it within hours of his arrival. The man was a typical fairy flirt. “You know Sara, the snarky one. She's wonderful.”
“I need a Sara,” Queen Teagan said to her husband.
“Yes, my love,” King Edmond agreed as he stared at my ensemble, “you most certainly do.”
“Or you could just buy clothing from her,” I offered.
“Buy clothing from her?” Teagan perked up. “Yes, that sounds easier. Please introduce us later, Queen Elaria. I'd like to place an order.” She looked over the delicate beads of faceted onyx sewn along the hemline of the bodice, and added, “A large order.”
“It's obscene,” Oonagh sniffed.
“Can she make these breeches as well?” Teagan ignored Oonagh completely.
“Um, I don't know.” I looked down at my jeans. “But I'm sure you can get someone to purchase them for you in the human world.”
“Ah, perfect.” Teagan kissed my cheek. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“Not as much as it is mine.” Torin slid his arm around my waist, inside the jacket. “Is this what you were doing this morning? I woke up lonely.”
“Oh no, what a tragedy.” I gave him a quick kiss.
“It is. Especially now that I see this.” Torin lowered his face to the leather and breathed in. “Sweet stones, what is that smell?”
“My perfume,” I said. “I hadn't thought to wear it lately, but I have a bottle in the bag Cerberus brought me. If you like it, I'll start using it again.”
“I like it,” Torin declared.
“If we are quite finished discussing women's clothing and perfumes, could we get back to the war?” A man I hadn't met spoke with irritation.
He had ebony hair pulled back into a severe club, an indolent stare of soft green, and skin that shone like creamy porcelain. A little taller than Torin, with the build of most fey men, he seemed even thinner because of his height. He nearly dwarfed the woman beside him, but he didn't diminish her in any other way. She was brightly beautiful, with glaring amber hair, pale skin, and warm, caramel eyes.
“Yes, of course,” Torin said smoothly, steering me over to the couple. “Queen Elaria of Song, may I introduce you to King Parthalon of Jade, and the Duchess Branna. They've just arrived this morning.”
“Pleased to meet you.” I nodded to them.
“And you as well,” Branna said warmly, while her husband just nodded.
“The others are due to arrive later today, and a few more this week,” Torin informed me. “Then our army will be complete.”
“So we can set out soon?” I asked in surprise.
“I'm hoping to be ready within a week, maybe two,” Torin agreed.
“Wonderful.” I eased toward the map-strewn table. “So we're going with the divided, and hopefully unseen, approach?”
“Yes, we've all agreed that King Edmond's idea was best,” King Odran of Howlite tapped the map. “We are just now resolving who shall march in from what direction.”
“This is wrong.” Oonagh pushed in beside Torin, and tapped a spot on the map. “Tiger's Eye moved over here, beside Turquoise, when Queen Moirin married King Sean.”
“When did that happen?” Torin asked her.
“Two months ago.” Oonagh shrugged. “Your map is out of date.”
“All right.” Torin picked up a discarded pencil and crossed things out, then scribbled others in. There was a bit of discussion between him and Oonagh over which kingdom had
moved where. “All right, does anyone else know of any discrepancies on this map?”
No one did.
“Your kingdoms move?” Banning asked the question before I had a chance to.
“Sometimes,” King Declan answered. “If monarchs unite in marriage, and they happen to be rulers of two types of gems, their kingdoms will shift into place beside each other. The other kingdoms will move to accommodate them.”
“How the hell does that happen?” Banning scowled at the map.
“Magic,” Oonagh said as if it were obvious.
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes at Banning, and he chuckled.
“Does that mean most royal marriages occur between rulers of the same stones?” I asked Declan.
“Yes,” Declan said. “Most often, when two people ascend to a royal status under the same gem, they are drawn together. We believe it's a way for the jewels to let us know that we'd be compatible. They're usually right.”
I remembered what Onyx had told me, about how the stones chose their rulers. So they chose couples as well. Fascinating. Little jewel matchmakers.
“And what happens when they're wrong?” I wondered. I could believe in magic predicting compatibility, but love was a tricky thing. Tricky, and sometimes fickle.
“War usually,” Queen Teagan answered. “There can be only one kingdom per gemstone. If there are two rulers who refuse to unite, they must determine who the stronger is. The winner rules.”
“And what then?” I asked. “Does the other have to die?”
“Absolutely,” Oonagh scowled at me. “To leave a royal alive after they've been defeated would be both cruel and stupid.”
“How savage.” I looked at Torin. “Good thing there isn't an onyx queen.”
“Yes.” Torin's hot gaze flowed over me. “But I'd kill anyone to keep you beside me.”
My breath caught. I stared at Torin for a second, fire infusing my limbs, before I answered, “And I for you.”
Then he kissed me. Passionately. And I didn't give a hot damn that all those royals were watching and waiting on us. We had just declared that we'd kill for each other. I think some passion was required.
“How romantic,” Duchess Branna sighed.
“Oh stop.” Cerberus rolled his eyes, “I'm going to fucking cry.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“I don't like this,” Torin growled, his eyes straying to Banning.
“I know, but it's the best we can do,” I slid into his embrace.
It was late, and all the royals were asleep except for us. We stood inside the stables, the sound of shifting, sleeping horses soft in the background. My mount was already saddled; the poor beast wouldn't be getting any rest for a while. He was a ballach, a type of speckled, fairy horse, and he was waiting patiently for me beside his friends, who already had their riders in the saddle.
We were headed to Copper, and Torin was staying behind. However, I had invited Banning to join us. I needed some extra muscle, someone of the nonshining variety, and Cerberus was too damn big to be stealthy. So I was taking Banning, as well as a group of Torin's knights, and the alchemist, Quinlan. Torin had agreed to the collection of companions for me, but he wasn't happy about it.
“If you have to kill the whole damn castle to get out of there alive, do it,” Torin whispered to me. “Come back breathing and whole, Elaria.”
“Just because you said so,” I teased.
“Good.” He smiled and set me away from him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I kissed him quickly, then went to mount my horse. One last wave to Torin, and our group headed out of the courtyard as quietly as possible.
The gate guards had been warned, so they carefully creaked the massive gates open for us, and my party snuck out into the night. We didn't want to tell the other monarchs about the copper bombs for several reasons, the biggest of which being the fact that rulers, especially those of the fey variety, tended to be power hungry. We were afraid that once the idea was planted in their minds, they might attempt to recreate the weapon for themselves. It was best to keep knowledge of the bombs to as limited a group as possible.
As the night closed in around us, the dim lights of the dreaming Onyx Castle fading behind us, I wondered if the humans would have banded together and sent a secret team to destroy all evidence of the A-bomb if they'd known what it would do to Hiroshima. Sadly, I didn't think so. Perhaps it was things like this that made Galen believe he'd be a better ruler of Earth than the humans were. I wasn't sure if I disagreed with that perspective. Unfortunately, the Earth belonged to them, for better or for worse, and the rest of us had to accept that.
Unless the Beneath rose up and claimed the world.
I gave a start as the thought struck me. Where had that come from? When had I become a revolutionary? The Beneath functioned well in the shadows. We supernaturals didn't want to be known, much less rule. Or, if we did rule, we'd prefer it to be under the guise of humanity. Even then, things could go bad. A race of supernaturals had been worshiped once. They had dominated the world, and demanded sacrifice in return. But humans are a plucky lot. They may not have as much power as the gods, but what they lacked in magic, they made up for in tenacity and numbers. The gods were overthrown.
Gods don't like to talk about it. Mostly, they say that humans slowly forgot about them. But the truth is, humanity rebelled. They chose a select few to worship, those who promised an utopian afterlife without demanding a lot in return. Then they cast the others aside. “Thou shalt have no other gods before me” was a commandment created by humans, not Jehovah. It was a way for humankind to remind themselves never to let the gods return to power. At least not in such great numbers.
So the magical masses slunk into the shadows. Not literally of course. We like sunshine just as much as anyone else. But we hid our magical natures, and we discovered that it's much better this way. The Beneath was formed, a secret society of supernaturals that spans the globe. We have our own government, our own rules, even our own territories. There are whole islands inhabited only by members of the Beneath. I should know; I was raised on one.
The point is, the Beneath likes things as they are, and unless humans try to destroy the world completely, I doubted that we would ever interfere with their rule.
“How about here?” Banning asked. “This is still Jade, right?”
“Yes, sir,” one of our onyx knights answered him. “We've got at least ten miles before we leave the Jade Kingdom.”
“Does this look like an acceptable camping site?” I asked the same knight, waving my hand toward a clearing just off the road.
“Let me scout it, Your Majesty.” The knight angled his horse into the thick jungle, and took a look around the space that we'd indicated. He waved a hand back to us, urging us in.
“Looks like you can finally get some sleep, sweetheart.” I gave my horse's neck a pat.
“I'm looking forward to it, honey,” Banning teased as he rode past me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The Copper Kingdom was on the other side of Relic Mountain. Which meant that we had to go through the butt-numbing journey to the mountain, and then ride beyond it. It wasn't difficult terrain though, and we didn't encounter any aggression. We were able to blend in with the common inhabitants of the kingdoms easily. The fairy villages were bustling places, full of life and an assortment of Shining Ones. The few times we passed people on the road, people going about their business transporting wares or produce, they barely glanced at us.
I didn't feel a sense of unease until we reached Relic Mountain. Though really, that was an inaccurate name for it now. We rode out onto the barren stretch, hooves echoing over the dry ground, and my eyes shot to the temple which was all that remained of the witch-made mountain. It looked lifeless, empty, waiting for its heart to return. The glass doors were shut, and I knew they wouldn't open to anyone, not even me. It was an abandoned place, and would remain so until my work was done.
Even our horses s
ensed the emptiness and edged away from the temple, so we had to skirt the edges of the desolate circle until we made it out to Copper. If not for the road, I wouldn't have realized we'd left the relic's domain. The land shifted subtly into an open region of jagged slopes and even more jagged flora. It reminded me of an American desert, except sharper looking, and more vivid. The sheer slices of mountains were striped with crimson, mustard, and viridian. Even the earth was speckled with color, glints of metal within the soil. Massive blooms spread open like cabbages, their petals brighter than any sunset. They dug into the dry dirt with slick roots, and nestled in rock crevices. There weren't any cacti, but there were rubbery leafed plants ringed with thorns, and bushes hiding burrowing creatures. Enough similarities to be an alien echo of the Southwest.
Though this land was a bit more hospitable than the Painted Desert. There were vast lakes spotting the terrain in an impossible juxtaposition. As if Tír na nÓg was turning its nose up at the law of nature. Though the more I looked, the more I realized that Copper wasn't an arid kingdom. There was moisture in the air and more plant life than you'd expect to find in a desert. There were even farms, with rows of crops flourishing in the sandy soil. I finally gave up and asked Quinlan about it.
“The landscape is a mask.” Quinlan shrugged. “If you dig but an inch past the topsoil, you'll find the rich earth of Tír na nÓg beneath. No matter how the monarchs wish to design their kingdoms, they cannot change the foundation upon which they lie. They can only work with it. So if you desire a stark vision such as this”-he waved his hand out-“then you must gather the water and force most of it underground.”
“The monarchs design the land?” Banning asked.
“They work with the stones to come up with an environment beneficial to them both,” Quinlan explained. “This landscape is most comfortable for copper.”
“Bizarre.” Banning shook his head.
“Not at all,” Quinlan protested. “Jewels are affected by several conditions, including temperature, pressure, surrounding deposits, and the amount of space they have to grow in. Jewels formed in Tír na nÓg feel these conditions like you and I would feel a chill or the warmth of a fire. Certain landscapes can be ideal for one stone and yet detrimental to others.”
