by C. T. Adams
“Of course, milady.” Brianna didn’t think he could bow lower, but he managed. “Will you be taking your former rooms?”
Brianna caught herself before she could sigh yet again. It occurred to her that she seemed to be doing that a lot, and needed to stop—she was showing all too clearly what she was thinking and feeling. Not smart under the circumstances. “I suppose so,” she agreed. As the majordomo led David through the archway toward the main staircase a thought occurred to her. “Saturnino?”
He stopped in his tracks. “Yes, milady?”
“Make sure that no one does anything that might influence my friends’ ability to leave Faerie when the time comes.”
“Of course, milady.”
Brianna shook her head. Three miladies in less than two minutes? Saturnino had never shown that level of deference to her before. Which meant that not only was Lucie right, but the news of her elevated position had already leaked to the general public. This was so bad … and there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.
14
Lucie and Brianna sat on opposite sides of a stone picnic table easily capable of seating twelve, sipping tea that Brianna recognized as having been made from plants grown in Helena’s old greenhouse. The courtyard smelled of late-blooming flowers; afternoon sun kissed each leaf of every vine that climbed the pillars of the covered walkways. Against the plain stone backdrop, the leaves seemed to glow with every conceivable shade of green.
Before Brianna and her sister had adjourned to the courtyard, Morguenna had briefed her on Nick’s condition. He wasn’t as gravely injured as Brianna had feared. The healer had been able to take care of the worst of his wounds using magic before the rescue party reached Abracham. Once here, the spells laid into the foundations prevented the healer from working any active magic, but Morguenna felt that the potions she had created, which he would have to take at sunrise and moonrise for the next three days, would be all that was needed at this point. If Nick followed orders, he could expect a full recovery. She’d explained that she would give the same report to King Leu and then left for the palace.
Lucie had suggested she and Brianna have tea outdoors: tea, because she knew Brianna liked it; outdoors because it would be more difficult for the servants to spy on them. Not impossible, there was no way to manage that. But at least they would have some privacy, so Brianna agreed.
Lucie poured the steaming liquid into delicate white china cups decorated with an ivy pattern. Fragrant steam rose over the gilded rims and Brianna took a deep breath of the peppermint-scented mist. Immediately she felt her shoulders start to relax.
Lucienne spoke, keeping her voice low. “First, I wanted to warn you. Rodan has paid the best bards to come up with ballads celebrating your victory. He plans to have them played at the dance tomorrow night.”
Brianna managed not to splutter her tea, but it wasn’t easy.
Her sister continued, “Of course, if you act embarrassed, the doxies will have cause to call insult.”
“Which is exactly what Rodan is hoping will happen.”
The redhead smiled before taking a sip of tea. “You’re better at this game than you used to be.” She meant the words as a compliment, but to Brianna, all it did was highlight how bad she’d been at it before.
“I’d almost have to be,” she admitted. “I couldn’t do much worse.”
Lucie gave a musical laugh and set down her cup. “I’ve missed you, Bri.” She gave a rueful grin. “I didn’t expect to. But after you left, I kept thinking about that last night, when I drank more than I should, and said … well, you know as well as I do what I said.” She sighed. Her regret sounded real, but she’d always been a fine actress. Brianna looked into her sister’s eyes, searching for the truth of what she was feeling, and couldn’t be sure.
“I thought you were pretending to be my friend because of politics, in case I wound up on the list, or on the throne. I swear, it never occurred to me that you might actually be trying to be my friend. We’re royals. We don’t have friends. We have toadies, servants, and rivals. Not friends.” There was no bitterness in Lucie’s words, not even resignation. These were the facts of her world.
Brianna shook her head, to show her disagreement. “I do.”
“I know.” Lucie gave her a sad smile. “I envy you that. Just as I envied you your mother.”
That was news. Brianna had loved her mother, adored her even, but Helena had been difficult at best, and her relationship with King Leu had been tumultuous enough to keep the entire kingdom walking on eggshells.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Lucie pointed a manicured nail at Brianna. “Your mother loved you for exactly who you are. And she insisted on your having a life and an identity besides being Leu’s daughter.”
“She was also a convicted criminal.”
Lucie reached across the table to pick up one of the delicate pastry puffs that Saturnino had brought for them as a snack. “No one’s perfect.” She popped the treat delicately into her mouth, closing her eyes at the exquisite taste. When she’d swallowed, she continued. “And she was a clever criminal. They had to convict her of the lesser crime.”
While at the king’s order, no one had told Brianna the whole story, she had looked up the file when she’d joined the guards. Until shortly after Brianna’s birth, the veil had been wide open. Any Fae, or any human with enough magic, could and did cross at will. The Sidhe, in particular, took advantage—which was how all those human tales of stealing babies and kidnapping beautiful women came about.
Helena Washington did not approve of this. She continually argued about it with the king—arguments overheard by half the kingdom. She wanted him to forbid it. He refused. She warned him that if he didn’t put a stop to the traffic, she would.
And when he did nothing, she acted.
One afternoon when Brianna was still a toddler, the veil slammed shut. Faeries caught on the human side were trapped there. Sidhe on the Fae side couldn’t go through without a talisman that used human magic. Humans who were above the age of consent who knew how to cross—and wanted to—could come and go as they pleased … but they couldn’t take anyone with them, and no babies.
It was no wonder the nobles had wanted Helena dead. The Sidhe adored babies of all kinds, but most particularly fat, healthy, human babies, whom they spoiled rotten given half a chance. Brianna had seen the sternest and most fearsome members of her father’s court go gaga over the offspring of the humans living on the Fae side of the veil. She could only imagine their rage at being cut off from the greater source.
Helena was questioned, extensively, but refused to answer. She refused to say anything at all, despite direct orders from the king. So they convicted her of insubordination, defying a direct order, and obstruction of an investigation. The nobles wanted her executed. It was practically a miracle that Leu had been able to satisfy them with house arrest.
Brianna felt Lucie watching her. Her sister was giving her time to think, time for the information to sink in thoroughly. When she decided Brianna was ready, she continued, “Our best mages tried to find the ‘ground’ she used to tie down the spell.”
That made sense. If they could find the anchoring point, they could trace the magic to its source, and possibly unravel it.
“What happened?”
“They couldn’t. It was as though the anchor was everywhere in Faerie. And it moved.” The admiration had changed to awe. “I can’t imagine how she did it.”
Neither could Brianna, and she’d known her mother as well as anyone short of her father. What Helena had done had earned her the everlasting enmity of the Sidhe, but her daughter didn’t doubt she’d thought it was worth it. Brianna would bet she’d fully expected to be murdered for her pains—which meant she’d built it to outlast her own death. And it had. Amazing. Absolutely amazing.
Not for the first time Brianna wished heartily that her mother were alive again. Brianna missed her so much. A tiny woman in stature, Helena had possessed
a strength and ferocity of purpose that was frightening in its intensity, even leavened as it was by her warmth and humor.
“Father let you move with your mother to the human world to protect you from the nobles who hated you both.” Lucie’s eyes met Brianna’s, avid with curiosity. “But you have enemies of your own who have nothing to do with your mother.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Alienating Ulrich was worse than stupid. He’s been doing everything he can to turn anyone and everyone against you. Rumor has it that he even contacted mages with human blood to let him through the veil—but got no takers. It’s entirely possible he’ll call you out for a duel at the state dinner if he thinks he can get away with it.”
“He thinks I murdered Viktor.”
Lucienne nodded her agreement. Brianna wasn’t surprised her sister knew. From what Brianna could tell, it was common knowledge Ulrich suspected her of killing his eldest, most beloved child. Lars, the second son, had been Viktor’s shadow. Brianna had always believed he knew exactly what had happened the day of Viktor’s disappearance, but she had no proof. Nor could she get any without digging up mud that would sully all concerned. All the same, if it ever came to light that Lars was a party to what happened, he would be in line for a death sentence rather than for all of his father’s property. He would be ever so much safer with Brianna dead.
“Did you?” The words popped out of Lucie’s mouth, but she waved her hand to stop Brianna before she could answer. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“I would swear upon the truthstone that the last time I saw Viktor he was hale and whole.” He’d been running for his life—but she wasn’t going to tell Lucie that. If Brianna could manage it, the story of what happened on her fifteenth birthday would remain untold forever.
“You may have to.” The words were deadly serious. “Ulrich has been making serious trouble for father.”
At last Brianna understood why Lucie had come to see her. Not out of friendship, or to make an apology, but because their father had sent her. Brianna knew it was foolish to feel disappointed, but she was. Silly of her, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She had this stubbornly sentimental streak that she simply could not seem to get rid of. It was just another reason to get back to the human side of the veil as quick as she could manage it.
“Tell father that if he or Ulrich can talk the Diamond King into letting us use the stone, I’ll testify, but I want it to be in private. Ulrich doesn’t know it, but he’ll want it done privately as well.”
Lucie smiled even as she sighed. “I told him you’d figure out he sent me. You may be naive, but you’re not stupid.”
“Neither are you.”
“Please don’t spread that around.” Lucie gave a wicked grin, flashing deep dimples. “I survive by letting Asara and the others think that I inherited more than my looks from my mother. If any of them had a clue that I have a brain they’d see me dead.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” And it was. Because deities help her, Brianna liked Lucie. Of all the siblings, nieces, and nephews she was far and away the best.
“Thank you.” Lucie’s eyes darkened, her expression growing serious. “Are you sure you’re willing to use the truthstone? Because there’s a good chance father can arrange for it, and once you agree, there’s no going back.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong. Embarrassing, but not wrong.”
She glared at Brianna, her expression one of distaste. “Only you could honestly say that. You are such a saint.”
15
NICK ANTONELLI
That’s it. No more anchovy and double-pepperoni pizza before bed. God, what weird dreams. The poisonous monster-bats were bad enough, but jeez, all those naked and half-naked people riding around on horses—I can just imagine what a dream analyst would have to say about that!
Nick knew he should get up and start the day, visit Juan in the hospital. But the bed was soft, warm, and inviting enough that he just couldn’t quite make himself do it. Which, come to think on it, was a little weird, because he had been needing to buy a new mattress for a while now. And why was he hearing songbirds instead of traffic noise?
That made him open his eyes, to find himself staring up, and up, and even further up at what had to be twenty-foot ceilings with elaborately gilded floral and leaf designs and a frigging crystal chandelier.
It hadn’t been a dream.
“Oh, shit.”
“You’re awake.” David packed more relief into those two words than his brother would’ve believed possible. Nick turned his head to see David hurrying toward the bed from where he’d been standing next to a set of glass doors that opened up onto an arched porch area that was draped with what looked a lot like the sweet peas that their Grandma Sophie grew back home. With the doors closed the scent was faint, but now that Nick was looking for it, unmistakable.
He started to sit up, stopped in mid-motion, and fell back in pain. He craned his neck to look at himself. His ribs were wrapped in bandages and his abdomen was a mass of emerging bruises. Nick swore roundly. David helped him sit up, propping a bunch of feather pillows behind Nick’s back until he was reasonably comfortable.
“Nick, I’m sorry.” He gave his brother a helpless look. “I swear, I didn’t mean to get you into this.”
Part of Nick was seriously pissed. But the truth was, his brother hadn’t gotten him into anything. He’d done it to himself. Me and my big mouth, Nick growled mentally. He’d volunteered, thinking he was going to protect his baby brother who—truth be told—was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
“It’s not your fault. I insisted on coming.”
“Yeah, well … bet you’re regretting that now, aren’t you?” David sounded rueful.
“No bet.” Nick managed to find a smile. “So, how the hell did we wind up in a palace?”
“It’s not the palace. You missed that. This is prison.”
“Whoa.” Nick took a long look around. As a cop, he’d been in a few prisons. None of them had looked like this. The bed was a dark-stained carved four-poster that was a work of art … and probably larger than his bedroom all by itself. The room it was in was huge, with thick, hand-woven rugs in jewel tones scattered across the white marble floor, their gold fringe bringing out the gold veining in the marble. The furniture was all elegant, and obviously valuable. Nick would have bet his annual salary that any one of the statues decorating the mantel could be sold at Sotheby’s for more than his truck.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” David’s voice echoed a little in all that space. “But I wouldn’t want to stay here long. Can’t you feel it?”
Nick just shook his head, not sure what the heck his little brother was talking about. Other than sore, he didn’t feel anything in particular.
“There are prohibitions built into the building and the ground beneath it. No one can work magic here, but it’s more than that. It saps your will so you don’t want to. You don’t want to do anything.” He shook his head. It was obvious that he was both admiring and scared. “And it’s all individualized. Those sweet peas outside…” He gestured in the direction of the porch. Nick nodded. “They first appeared when you started waking up. Now they’re fully grown and blooming. Just for you.”
Nick wasn’t sure what to think about that, or even if he believed it. What he did know was that he was injured, and they were in a strange place—the high-end prison of a foreign land. What happened now? Were they in danger? How were they supposed to get home? What about the language? What about food? He had so many questions racing through his head that he didn’t know which to ask first. Still, the one that popped out of his mouth was the one that had him most worried.
“How do we get home?”
David sighed, and took a seat on the chair that the healer had left sitting by the head of the bed. “You’re assuming we can,” Dave said gloomily. “The Sidhe love humans. They used to kidnap good-looking ones and bring them here.”
“And you think your boss will
just let them keep us?”
“No. But they may not give her a choice.”
“If they don’t, how do we get out?”
“I … I’m not sure. There’s a couple of possibilities, but—”
“But what?”
David sighed again and gave his brother a sour look. “But it’s a little hard to explain the situation when you don’t even believe in magic.”
Nick grimaced. “Let’s just assume that our little encounter with the bat-monsters…”
“Doxies,” David corrected.
“Doxies, has made me change my mind. Just start at the beginning, and explain where we are and what’s going on. Then we can work out a plan for how to get back.”
David leaned forward, his expression avid. “Okay, but this is going to take a while, and you’re not going to like it.”
“I already don’t like it. Now talk.”
“Okay, but I don’t know everything. Grandma Sophie clued me in on a lot of stuff. She’s Sidhe, and was an oracle here under the name of Cephia until she got exiled. I’ve pieced together some more stuff she didn’t tell me since I’ve been working at Helena’s, but some of this is just guesswork.”
“Just tell me what you’ve got.”
“Right, Faerie and the human world coexist on different planes with the veil separating them. It used to be that anybody with magic could open a slit in the veil, and drag whoever or whatever back and forth between the two worlds—which is where all those old stories of fairies stealing babies and kidnapping beautiful women came from.”
“Right.”
“But a while back a human witch got pissed off about that and decided to make it so that only people with human magic could open a slit in the veil and that only willing adults could go back and forth: no kidnappings, no stealing babies.”
“Bet that pissed them off,” Nick noted.
“You have no idea,” David agreed. “Anyway, that witch was Brianna’s mom, and a lot of the Sidhe nobles—”
