by T. G. Ayer
But the shadows enveloped us, red smoke that, though it contrasted with our drab fall surroundings, was filled with glamor to make it, and us, invisible. We stood alone on the leaf-strewn sidewalk, hemmed in by the endearingly cobbled street on one side and a row of gorgeous triple-level brownstones on the other. Historical residences that would prove attractive even to the most ardent haters of modern duplex living. Even I would adore such a home, despite knowing I was mere inches from my neighbors at any given moment.
I took a slow step toward the stairs, fingers trailing the wrought iron banister, when I sensed Mel hesitate behind me. Looking over my shoulder, I frowned as she fidgeted, throwing her hair out of her eyes with jittery fingers.
“What’s wrong?”
She jerked her head, a ragged excuse for a shake. “Nothing. I just thought that maybe you’d want to be alone with Tara?”
My turn to hesitate. “Maybe. But not for too long.” I scanned the street, wary still of curious passers-by. “Is there somewhere you could hide safely and project into the room?”
“You don’t need your privacy?” She seemed confused.
I laughed. “Tara is my best friend, not my lover.”
After a moment, she shrugged as if having both in the same person wasn’t a problem. I accepted that she was just respecting our boundaries and I sighed. “Of course, you may be right about privacy. Tara may not want our discussion overheard, but you and I are here on an important errand. It’s not personal and I hardly think she’d mind you listening in.”
Mel nodded, although the look in her eyes was uncertain. I ignored it and hurried up the stairs. With one last glance at Mel, I knocked on the door, grimacing at the fist-sized head of a lion, it’s giant canines biting onto a brass knocker.
The door opened a few seconds later and a woman, who bore a striking resemblance to Gracie, stared at me. She was wraith-thin, her large glassy blue eyes watery as they reflected light from every angle. Her glamor was ragged, lacking the elegance with which Tara drew hers. And the slim, thorn-riddled branch around her neck confirmed my suspicion.
A Fae slave.
“May I help you?” she asked. Her tone held a hint of annoyance that I dared disturb her by knocking. Odd in the demeanor of a slave, but then Fae slaves were known for enjoying their enslavement.
I ignored her tone and nodded, forcing my lips to rise in a smile. Probably looked maniacal, but I couldn’t do anything about it. “I’m here to speak with Tara.”
The Gracie-doppelganger’s eyebrows rose a few inches. Her cheeks flushed and as she swallowed a thorn sank into the curve of her neck, drawing blood. I forced myself not to stare as the blood pooled and dribbled into the neck of her linen shift.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Her eyes scanned me from head to toe and I wondered if she knew she spoke to a shifter, or if she thought I was a human who didn’t deserve even a lowly Fae slave’s time.
“Look. Let’s not waste each other’s time. I’m a friend of Tara’s.” Again the woman flushed, her cheeks reddening as I mentioned my friend’s name. Still, she didn’t budge. Losing patience, I said, “I’m here on Supreme High Council business and it’s of utmost importance that I speak to her immediately.”
I didn’t usually pull rank but the servant’s haughtiness had begun to grate on my nerves.
At the mention of the Supreme High Council the Gracie-duplicate took a step back, gave a hesitant nod. “I can bring Mr Dawson down to have a word with you.”
I gritted my teeth, breathing slowly through them. “I’m not here to speak to Mr Dawson.” I spoke sharply, annoyed that although she was moved to action, she was still ignoring my request. “I’m here to speak to Tara and I need to waste as little time as possible. Please could you let her know I’m here.”
The woman stilled, then straightened, a cool smile on her lips. “And who exactly are you?” Again her tone was dismissive, as if she spoke to a human.
“I’m Kailin Odel. Tara knows me.”
One eyebrow rose. As if.
I didn’t react, just waited on the threshold as the woman turned and disappeared into the front room on the right of the small hall. Footsteps hurried toward me and Tara appeared, flying from the room and enveloping me in a giant hug.
Gracie 2.0 stared from the threshold, shocked and wide-eyed at our physical contact.
I hugged Tara back.
Okay. Hopefully this means I won’t be kicked out on my ass.
Then she grabbed me by the upper arms and shook me hard. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her tone was harsh and urgent.
I patted her hand gently, as if tempering a wild animal. “I’m sorry to have to do this, but we need to talk. It’s extremely important. Otherwise I would never have intruded on your privacy.”
Tara’s features softened. Her skin was even paler than normal and as she relaxed her markings surfaced, dark, shimmering and moving lazily on her skin like living things.
The servant gasped as she stared first at the swirling tattoos, then at me. When her gaze returned to Tara’s face, the disapproval was clear.
Tara sighed. “Stop being so dramatic, Ani. Kai is a dear friend and she’s seen my markings too many times for it to affect her.”
“You showed her your markings?” The girl herself seemed horrified, first at Tara’s daring, and second that she’d had the audacity to question her own princess.
Tara’s stern look admonished the girl, the darkness in her eyes deepening to match her ebony hair. Then her expression softened and she sighed. “Yes, Ani. We’re best friends. As close as sisters.”
The girl sucked in a soft gasp. It seemed everything was shocking to her and I hoped the reaction wasn’t a regular occurrence.
Tara looped an arm into mine and drew me into the front room. Over her shoulder she called for something to drink, then said, “You must excuse Ani. She’s not used to meeting non-Fae, least of all one that is a confessed, on-hugging-terms bestie of the Queen.”
The Queen?
My turn to stifle a gasp. “Crap. Is that why she was so shocked? I didn’t bow or scrape or anything.”
Tara laughed softly and pulled me onto a white and gold striped loveseat, its curved legs gleaming with gold leaf. “You are forbidden to ever do such a thing with me.”
I shook my head, face serious. “No way. I give kowtowing where it’s due.” I grinned and then sighed. “I’m sorry again. I never would have disturbed you if it wasn’t important.”
“How did you find me?” Tara tilted her head and studied my face, genuinely curious, yet the tiniest bit disapproving. I had, after all, broken the rules.
“Mel helped me track you.”
Tara nodded, her eyes now shining with amusement. “And it took you this long to come see me?”
Hesitating now, I frowned then shook my head. “Yes, I could have asked Mel to track you weeks ago. And no, I didn’t. I respected your privacy, Tara.”
“And now you don’t anymore?” she asked, her expression neutral.
My heart thudded. Was she angry with the intrusion? “No. I still do. I’ll be gone as soon as we’ve finished speaking. You must know that this is important. It’s not personal at all.”
Tara made a face. She actually looked disappointed and I wondered if I’d said the wrong thing.
I lifted my hand. “Not that I didn’t want to see you. I-”
Tara laughed softly. “Stop it, silly. I’m not upset. And I knew you’d respect my need to be left alone. And I also know that this, whatever it is, has to be important or you wouldn’t have come.”
She sat back and crossed her legs and only then did I register her dress. Deep green flecked with shimmering lime, it looked like wild moss, only woven into a floor-length dress that would be right at home at a ball or on a runway.
At her neck she wore a string of shimmering crystals, each glittering with every shade of green, which for all I knew were rare gems. Garb fit for a Fae Queen.
I c
leared my throat. “The Chicago Ash Tree is dying and we need your help.”
Tara’s pale skin whitened as the blood drained from her face, bringing her swirling tattoos into stark contrast. “What did you say?” Her voice brimmed over with shock.
Not the kind of shock one experiences on hearing something the first time. No, rather the expression on her face indicated that she’d heard about the dying Ash before.
I leaned closer. “The Ash.” She looked upset.
“You know?”
Tara’s shoulders drooped. “Yes, and no.”
I cleared my throat as the silence dragged on. I seriously didn’t have time to waste enjoying deep silences and I had to shrug off the urge to shake her by the shoulders and insist on an answer. But one did not shake royalty, even bestie royalty.
Tara shook her head. It was obvious something weighed her down. “Sorry. Yes, I know about the Ash Tree being sick, and no, I didn’t know about your Ash Tree.”
“Our Ash?” My eyes widened. “Crap. Don’t tell me the Boston Ash is sick too?”
Tara nodded. “It’s the reason I was called to Boston so suddenly. The Ash is vital to the Fae and signs of its affliction was enough to gather the troops.”
“Have you been able to figure out what’s wrong with it?”
Tara shook her head. “I’ve had my people investigating, but they haven’t uncovered any definitive reason.”
I stiffened, scowling.
“What?” asked Tara, watching my face now. She tilted her head. “What do you know?”
“Something you should know by now if you’ve been researching the tree’s illness.”
Before Tara could answer, someone swept into the room, bringing with him a touch of winter.
Tara’s gaze shifted to the newcomer then glanced at me giving him a regal introductory wave. “Kai, meet Elan.”
He was tall, his body well-muscled despite his slim figure. He wore an ice-white silk suit, probably something Italian from the looks of it. And his attire contrasted with Tara’s gift-of-nature gown. His ice blue hair gleamed, shot with white, and he pulled off the dual tone in a very attractive way.
Attractive probably because of the glamor he wore. The silver of it glittered on his cheekbones, dusting his shoulders and hugging him like a silken shroud. Beneath the glamor, his cheeks were gray, hollow with age, eyes deep and ancient. A dangerous creature to be sure.
He gave a cool smile which seemed to drop the temperature in the room a few more degrees. I considered standing and bowing, but Tara didn’t indicate that I should. So I didn’t.
“Elan, Prince of the Winter Court, at your service.” He gave a small bow. Light glinted off a diamond-carved clasp that held his long white coat on his left shoulder. The cold shimmer of the jewel matched the waves of ice that emanated from him. And despite the nice words I suspected he was very far from at my service. Probably the ice in his eyes. He studied me the way Sean looked at Ash.
Racist Fae.
“Nice to meet you, Elan.” I fell silent, finding little to say in the face of his contempt. Probably the wrong move, because he studied me head to toe, his expression dismissive.
“My Queen. If you’re done mixing with the rabble, you are needed upstairs. We are about to begin.”
“As it happens, Elan, Kai is here about the-”
I touched her arm. “We do have to go Tara. But I promise we won’t be gone long.”
Tara’s eyes shifted away from the snowy-haired fae to me. She frowned as she considered my words and then her eyes cleared, understanding the deeper meaning. She gave Elan a suspicious glance.
Then, to my relief, she gave a firm, regal, don’t-try-to-change-my-mind nod. “Tell the council I’ll be a bit late. I have an important errand to run.”
Elan’s pale blue eyes turned paler still, ice-chips now as the air frosted, and ice crept up the sides of the walls behind him. At his feet, frost covered the wool carpet, and crackled against the window beside me.
“My Queen, may I suggest that this is a very bad-”
“Elan.” Her voice shut him up. “I will return in a while. The council should be satisfied that what I am attending to is of the utmost importance. I am not known for my frivolity.”
Elan gave me a glance. “Very well. But I hope that should this creature be duping you, you will end her swiftly and return to your duties?”
I raised my eyebrows. End me?
Tara laughed. “How easy that would be Elan, to end every creature who disrespected me or used me.” She paused and watched his face. “Or lied to me.”
So it was possible for the ice prince to go even whiter. His blue hair had turned into blade sharp shards and the tips of his collar points both hung lower with icicles.
“As you wish, my Queen.” He bowed low, but as he rose he said, “I must assure you though that should you not return within the hour, I will be forced to send out the Royal Guard with orders to eliminate any and all threats to your safety, perceived or real.”
He shifted his gaze to me. “Friend or not.”
Chapter 8
Is that so?” asked Tara, her expression just as cold as the Fae’s.
I hid my smile and watched the Ice Prince cringe as Tara took a step toward him.
When she spoke, her voice shivered with an echo that terrified even me. The powerful, Royal side of her that I’d never seen. “Please inform the Council to await my arrival. I will be back within the hour. Should I not return, then I would suggest you send out a search party for both the Panther Alpha and myself. Only one reason will impede my return, and that is if both our lives are in danger.”
The Prince’s face turned a few shades grayer, though his eyes darkened with something akin to hatred. “Yes, my lady.” He bowed his head. “Please forgive me. My only concern is that of the safety of my future bride.” He back-pedaled a few steps, then turned and left the room.
I raised both eyebrows and stared at Tara. “Future bride?” The words echoed around us, my horror impossibly loud. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to make babies with him?”
The future bride snorted, then glared at the empty threshold. “In his dreams.” Then she sighed and met my eyes. “A marriage arranged by my mother when I was born.”
I gave a shocked, choke. “Gracie did that? Why would she do such a thing? And where is she anyway?”
Tara opened her mouth to respond, her face bleak, as if drained of all emotion. Then she cleared her throat and her expression transformed, now calm and serene.
“So? What are you waiting for? Take me to the tree.” She lifted her chin imperiously but the mischievous smile on her face spoiled the effect.
“I thought you could get there yourself?” I asked, grinning. Fae possessed the enviable ability to move great distances without being seen. Not entirely a jumper’s ability, but they still moved with incredible speed and could cloak themselves in invisibility whenever they wished.
“I can, but I think it would be safer if we traveled together.”
Before I could ask why, Mel materialized beside us. Tara blinked and smiled. The two women greeted each other, friends too.
Mel held out a hand, one to each of us. “We’d better be going. I’ll drop you off at the tree, then I have an errand to run.”
We both nodded and Mel jumped us to an alley a block from the Chicago Ash Tree.
We appeared, then used the shadows to scan the street for nosy passers-by. Mel disappeared after giving us a quick wave and a promise to be back in half an hour.
I was about to step into the street and Tara grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “I’m using a glamor to hide us both. I should’ve said before. I think it’s the safest way.”
“Good idea. You probably don’t want people to see you here.”
“Nothing gets by you, does it?”
We exited the safety of the alley, and cloaked by her glamor we crossed the road, passing a small group of college students sprawled on blankets on the grassy kno
ll beside the tree. Heading across the lawn, we stepped around two couples picnicking before the tree. The Ash towered a few yards away, and you’d have to be blind not to see the condition of it.
“I don’t think I would have believed you.” Tara shook her head and sighed. “No, I wouldn’t have wanted to believe you.”
I frowned and looked at her, more because the sight of her was better than the sight of the dying tree. “Why wouldn’t you want to believe me?”
“Because this.” She nodded at the tree, placing hands on her hips she studied the roots. “This is a problem. “
“You don’t say,” I said dryly, folding my arms
“Shit,” Tara said as she stared up into the branches.
“Language much,” I said softly, but she wasn’t listening.
“This is the reason I was called away all those weeks ago.” Her voice echoed in my ears, an effect of the glamor kicking back the sounds we made.
I frowned. “You knew all those weeks ago that the tree was ailing?” What I didn’t add was that she’d known and she’d done nothing about it.
“I was called away because A tree was dying.”
“The Boston Ash?”
“I guess it no longer makes sense to keep this under wraps.” Her sigh floated around us.
“You don’t say,” I said dryly.
Tara gave me a look that confirmed she felt bad about not revealing the truth sooner, but that she didn’t regret it. She began to walk around the base of the tree, slowly inspecting each wound, each poisonous excretion. “It’s exactly the same. Both trees are afflicted with the exact same disease.”
I cleared my throat. “And your people still have no idea what the problem is?”
Tara shook her head. But she studied me with an odd look on her face. “What is it you know?” she asked.
“What I know is something that your people should have known weeks ago when they initially investigated.” I shook my head and stared at her. “I don’t understand why you don’t know this. Unless of course they’re keeping the truth from you. For whatever reason.”
