by Claire Luana
Orin shook his head. “We are not here to move you, Niall.”
“No,” I added. “It’s time you told us everything you know.”
22
It took a few minutes of cajoling to get Niall out of bed and into some pants. The promise of an Irish coffee was what did it in the end, and so Orin and I trudged downstairs to make good on our deal while Niall made himself…presentable-ish.
“What if he doesn’t cooperate?” I whispered to Orin as I filled the coffee pot with water. “Can you handle him? Magically?”
Orin frowned, fumbling with a coffee filter as if he was seeing the foreign object for the first time. “Never made coffee before?” I asked bemused.
“Faeries are more…tea people.”
“Of course, you are.” I grabbed the filters from him and freed one, taking over.
“I think I can handle him if I plan ahead.” Orin stroked his jaw, considering. “I’ll put a spell on the coffee. Neutralizing his magic for a time. He’ll never see it coming.”
“Perfect. That should give us enough time—”
A cleared throat sounded behind us, and I turned with a wide fake smile, praying Niall hadn’t heard Orin’s earlier sentence.
“Almost ready,” I said. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Niall slid onto one of the stools on the other side of the kitchen island, rubbing his face with his hands.
“Nice place they put you up in here,” I said.
“Perks of the job,” Niall replied.
“Funny, the only perk my mother had was almost getting eaten by a pack of hellhounds.” My tone had darkened considerably.
“Jacq, be nice,” Orin cautioned.
“Had?” Niall asked. “She off the board?”
I nodded stiffly.
“Not good, them taking your queen this early. Doesn’t bode well.”
“Well, there have been some extenuating circumstances,” I said through gritted teeth. The last thing I needed right now was a lecture about my shitty chess playing.
“Why don’t you start with this while the coffee brews,” Orin said, shoving a coffee mug that smelled of whiskey across the island. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he nodded infinitesimally.
Niall took a sip and closed his eyes in rapture. The man had a serious problem. Or two serious problems. Because now, his magic was spelled, and we could talk freely.
“We’re not here to ask you about chess tactics,” I said. “We’re here to find out everything you know about the Brotherhood.”
Niall looked up at that, his eyes shrewd. He looked around slowly. “Where’s your camera gal? The redhead?”
“Sleeping,” Orin said simply.
Niall nodded, looking into the mug. And then bolted for the door, his stool clattering to the ground behind him.
Orin and I lunged into action once we shook off our surprise, running after him.
Niall had made it halfway across the living room toward the front door when I tackled him to the ground, my arms around his waist. We both went down hard, the wind whooshing from my lungs.
Orin pulled a chair out from the nearby dining room table and hauled a stunned Niall up into it. He waved his hands over the man, securing his wrists and ankles to the chair. Niall shook his head slowly. “What’d you do to me? My magic?” he looked up accusingly at Orin. “Where is it?”
“Just a precaution,” Orin said. “A required one, it seems. I’ll give you your magic when you tell us everything you know.”
I scrambled to my feet, adjusting my jacket. “We know what the Faerie king is planning,” I said. “Tell us where the final anchor point is.”
“There’s no way you can stop him,” Niall replied, his eyes misty. “This has been in motion for decades. Since Obanstone took the throne. Do you really think that some useless college brats in Oregon ‘discovered’ the first open portal to Faerwild?” I could tell that he’d be using air quotes if he had use of his hands.
I frowned. The story of Faerwild’s discovery was the stuff of legends. A group of undergrads in the Oregon mountains had been playing with spells, thinking themselves amateur magicians, and had opened a portal to Faerwild. A faerie had come out, announcing itself to the world.
“Are you saying the king planned to expose the existence of faeries to the human world…on purpose?” Orin asked.
“Oh, yes. We’re all pieces on his gameboard. Me, even you, Orin. You,”—he looked at me—“were unexpected. But you’ve danced to his tune, nonetheless.”
“What do you mean, me?” Orin asked, narrowing his dark eyes.
“Do you think it’s a coincidence you’re in this race? That you were that much better than the competition at auditions? You brought nothing special to the table. You were passable at best. But it never sat well with the king that your parents sent you away in defiance of him. He had hoped you would share your mother’s gift for glamours. The race was his way of getting back at them, showing them that they could defy him for a time, but he was always in control. You may not belong to him like they do, but you dance for him, just the same.”
Orin took a step back. “My parents didn’t send me away. The king did.”
I looked between Orin and Niall, bewildered. Orin’s childhood had been hell after the king had banished him from the palace as a baby. It couldn’t be true that Orin’s parents had been the ones who had subjected him to all of that?
Niall shook his head at him sadly. “They thought you’d be safer, far away. They didn’t realize how hard it can be for a little faerie alone in this cruel world.”
“You’re lying,” Orin spat at him, taking a menacing step forward.
I stepped in hastily, laying a soft hand on his arm. “Let’s not let him distract us,” I said softly. “He’s probably full of shit. We need to stay focused.”
Orin’s muscles were taut with tension under my hand, but after a moment, he relaxed, taking a step back. “You’re right.”
“Tell us where the anchor is,” I said. “And we’ll let you go.”
Niall shook his head. “I won’t.”
Before I knew what I was doing, I stepped forward and punched him in the stomach with all my might.
He collapsed around my fist as much as he could, tied to the chair, a wheezing sound escaping him. “Tell us!” I cried. I didn’t think I was much of a torturer, but Niall didn’t seem very tough, either. Perhaps we could soften his resolve.
I stepped back, and to my surprise, when he looked up, he was laughing, his eyes sharp. I can’t believe I ever thought he was harmless. “I’ve been…watching the board,” he wheezed. “You’re one move away from this all coming crashing down. Losing. Failing. Orin, your parents will be trapped. The two of you will never see each other again. But I can help you. I’ll tell you what moves to make to win.”
I felt the blood drain from me. My play had been erratic, what with all the stuff chasing us, and our pieces’ shields failing. I turned to Orin. “The board.”
Orin grabbed his pack where he’d stashed the board, and we pulled it out, setting it on the kitchen counter. We studied it, our backs turned to Niall. I didn’t want to see his smug face if he was right.
And right he was. I realized with dismay what we’d done. They were within one move of checkmate. The only way we could stop it was by moving our bishop. Sacrificing Niall. And he was our only chance for the information on the final anchor point. I said as much to Orin in a low tone.
I heard Niall chuckling quietly over my shoulder, and my hands balled into fists. Damn, I wanted to punch him again. But I restrained myself, instead, looking up at Orin.
“We need the information,” I said quietly. “We need to protect Niall. We need more time with him. To break him.”
“What are you asking, Jacq?” Orin asked. “If we let them take our king, the game will be over. Niall will be pulled out of here anyway. So will we. We agreed, we have to keep this going. Until we can find the anchor.”
“He’s our only s
hot at the anchor. We’ll take him with us to Cass and the ICCF. They’ll know how to get the information from him.”
“And what, we just…sacrifice my father?” Orin asked, taking a step back from me.
I chewed my lip. If there was another way, I couldn’t see one. “You know I don’t want to do that, but this is bigger than any one faerie or human. We need to stop the king. That has to be our top priority. Before…everything else,” I said softly. I tried to take his hands, but he pulled them back from me, his face gone hard.
“Would you say that if it was your mother we’d have to sacrifice?”
“That’s different, Orin,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “She’s an innocent human. She knows nothing about this. Your father…he’s in it. He decided to help. He knows how important this is.”
“So he’s a worthy sacrifice?” Orin shot back.
“Tick-tock,” Niall said. Our whispered discussion had escalated to a full-blown argument.
“Shut up,” Orin and I both yelled at Niall.
I blew out a breath, struggling to control my rising panic. The sun would be rising soon. We didn’t have much time until our next move. I needed Orin onboard. Keeping Niall had to be our priority.
“We’ll find another way,” Orin said. “Please Jacq. I just got him back. Don’t ask me to sacrifice him.”
I felt awful. Could I really be asking Orin to give up his father? “I just got Cass back, too. And I’m not going to let her down. Let down the entire human race. Don’t ask that of me.”
Orin pursed his lips, his dark eyes boring into me. I had grown so comfortable with Orin over these past weeks, I had forgotten how terrifyingly intense he could be when he turned that gaze on you. It was like being stared down by a dark avenging angel.
“He’s a strong magician,” I said weakly. “You said so yourself. He’ll be able to defend against whoever Tristam and Sophia throw at him.”
“And if he can’t?”
We looked at each other, facing off, but stuck. There was no good answer. Either we kept the game going, protecting our king and sacrificing Niall, or we ended it, taking our one shot to foil the king, but leaving Orin’s dad unprotected.
Niall smiled smugly from his spot tied to the chair. Suddenly, I realized there was a third way. If we got Niall to talk right fricking now, we could sacrifice him and keep the game going.
I strode across the room, wound back, and punched him across the jaw. Pain exploded in my hand, stealing my breath. I hissed with the pain, but I punched him again, this time nailing him across the eyebrow. “Tell us where it is!” I reared back again and punched him in the stomach.
“Jacq!” Orin stepped forward and snaked his hands across my middle, hauling me back. I struggled against him, lunging for Niall once again. “Let me go! Tell us, you bastard!” I said, my arms flailing, reaching for Niall, wanting to punch and claw until he told us what we wanted to know.
“Jacq, stop!” Orin spun me, pushing me back toward the hallway. I stumbled to get my footing, starting back towards Niall. Orin’s strong arms stopped me again. “He can’t tell us anything if you knock him unconscious.” He seized my shoulders and held me as I struggled. Finally, captive in his grip, I stilled, my chest heaving with the effort, my mind spinning in circles.
“Why don’t you go outside for a few,” he said, steering me for the back door. “Get some air.”
23
I hated the woman I’d just become. Weeks of mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion had left me angry and raw. Angry enough to hurt someone who was tied up to a chair and defenseless. I told myself that it was for the greater good, that in hurting Niall, I was saving people’s lives, but I’m not sure I even believed myself. The truth was, I just wanted to hit something.
The streetlights had now gone off as the light began to creep over the horizon. If we didn’t make a decision soon, it would be made for us. The FFR or the king would figure out where we were if they didn’t already know. We’d done our best to creep here through the streets, but the truth was, eyes were everywhere and nowhere was private.
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to quiet the turmoil in my head. When had this all become so hard? I was supposed to run through different terrains, dodging obstacles—not deciding who to save and who to sacrifice.
Orin had been right to send me outside to calm down. If I hadn’t, my head would probably have exploded, but that didn’t mean he was right about everything. I didn’t want his dad to get hurt any more than I wanted anyone to get hurt, but Niall was the only person I could think of who could tell us the location of the last anchor. Without that information, Orin’s father would be in just as big a mess as the rest of us. At worst, he’d only have to fight one of the other team’s playing pieces. I’d seen his magic. He had a fighting chance. He was nothing like my mom, who knew nothing of magic or the ways of the fae.
I spun around on the spot for a minute as I weighed the two options in my head. Neither was particularly palatable, but we had to figure something out before the king sent another round of killer bees or fuck-knew-what else to hurry us along. Stepping back into the house, I still didn’t know what to do. But I had calmed down and was willing to talk it through.
My newfound Zen became a moot point when I realized…Orin was gone.
“Where is he?” I asked, looking around the room in a panic. “Orin?” I shouted. Maybe he’d gone upstairs or to the bathroom.
When I heard no reply, I turned to Niall. “What did you do?”
Niall grinned at me, the blue of a bruise just beginning to appear on his forehead, blood trickling from his split lip. “I think he got sick of you telling him what to do. He left out of the back door.”
“You’re lying,” I protested. He couldn’t have. Orin wouldn’t have left me alone on this chessboard from hell. “You must have done something!”
Niall shook his head. “Notice I’m still tied up. What exactly do you think I could have done?”
It was a rhetorical question. There was nothing he could have done without his magic, and Orin had taken care of that. I dashed into the kitchen where the back door was located. It was wide open. I looked both ways down the back alley, but Orin was nowhere to be seen.
The weight of panic crushed my chest as I took in the enormity of what had just happened. I couldn’t believe he’d just left me to do this alone.
I stepped back inside the kitchen, feeling the room growing small around me. I took a deep breath and then another, grabbing onto the countertop to steady myself.
When I pulled myself up straight, a piece of paper came away from the countertop stuck to my hand. I hadn’t seen it at first as it was white—the same color as the granite countertop. On it was a hastily scribbled note in Orin’s handwriting.
Gone to move a piece and expose the king. I hope you are right about Niall. I found something in my backpack that might help you charm the bastard. Not that you needed any help charming me. See you soon.
The note didn’t mean a lot of sense until I noticed the small vial he’d left on the countertop. My eyes widened as I recognized it.
It was the love potion given to him by the xana in the very first trial. I’d completely forgotten about it until now. I allowed a smile to play on my lips as I reread his words. It was so unlike Orin to flirt, but I found I liked it. And he’d chosen to try things my way and throw the game. I only hoped his father would be all right. I’d never forgive myself, otherwise.
If Orin was off to move our piece, it meant I didn’t have much time until the game was over. Picking up the vial, I unscrewed the top. No point putting it in Niall’s drink. He’d fallen for that trick once today, I doubted he was stupid enough to fall for it twice.
I strode into the living room and pushed his head back, plugging his nose. I poured the small potion down his throat. Thank god he was tied up or this would have been impossible.
“What the hell are you doing?” he gurgled as the green liquid dripped down his throa
t.
The potion worked like a charm because as soon as I stepped back, his face softened, turning from anger to something foreign. Adoration. I’d have laughed if it wasn’t so serious.
“My gods, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, looking at me like I made the sun come up. “Have I ever told you that before?”
“Not to my knowledge,” I replied, biting back a smile.
“Well, I was stupid and foolish not to have told you sooner. Your beauty surpasses all others.”
I didn’t know how long the potion would last, so I had to be quick.
“You’re a handsome man too, but you know what really turns me on?” I suppressed a shudder even as I said the words. Me and Niall? Ew.
His eyes lit up, and he was practically dribbling. That xana magic was strong stuff.
“Tell me, my sweet.”
“I like knowledge. I want to know where the final anchor is.”
His mouth twisted and a furrow appeared on his forehead as he knotted his brows together. He was trying to fight the potion.
“Will it make you love me?” His words were lovely, his tone not.
“More than anything else,” I encouraged.
“It’s right in the center of the board where four squares meet. Two black and two white. You’ll never find it, though. It’s protected in ways you’ll never discover.”
“Can you tell me how?”
Niall’s face contorted once again. “No,” he spat, sweat beading his brow. He was really fighting it, overcoming it for a moment. “You have no idea what you’re up against, and you can drug me all you want, but even I don’t know everything. The king has his own enchantments all around the finish line.”
But then he gasped, and his face contorted into pleading. “Please, darling, release me so I can show you how much you mean to me!” I ignored him, and I ran back into the kitchen and whipped out the two-way mirror that Cass had given me. The finish line. It was like we’d thought. The king wanted the race to end with a bang.
“Cass,” I shouted into it, urging her to answer. I didn’t know how much time I had left, and every second was precious.
