by Morgan Blade
The throne room looked opulent as always, the perfect area for a ball with string-quartet musicians and buffet tables. No such luck. Not even a wet bar.
The open space was ringed by Winter Court guards, faces grim, weapons sheathed but present. In the middle of the room, for the comfort of the visitors, a ten-foot wide fire pit had been magically formed. Four feet down, the bottom of the pit was filled with gravel. A central spot had a mound of coal that was developing a gray-ash outer coating.
Between the pit and the throne dais, enemy guards stood with their Lords. The Autumn King still wore his plate armor with the wind-blown leaf etchings, but he’d removed his helmet to show us regular features with a russet goatee and a wild shock of medium length hair. His scythe-sword hung on his back. The Summer King stood stiffly in golden mail, his yellow wool cloak dragging the floor. Representing their father, the King of the Phoenix Court, the blonde twins crowded each other’s space, as if neither liked being far from the other.
Stepping forward from the rest, the Summer King approached the dais. He stopped and gave a curt nod, barely respectful. I didn’t blame him; we had stolen the kingdom he’d stolen from someone else. No longer powered by a link to his land, he stood before us reduced to his personal magic and warrior skills.
Queen Kellyn had used more magic; transforming chairs into extra thrones on the dais. The Oracle and Queen Syrah bracketed her like book ends. No thrones had been left out for the enemy lords.
Colt and I stood off to the side with the royal chamberlain. The enemy lords ignored me. The blond girl Aleys watched everything. Her gaze slid across me, to Colt. A small frown appeared on her face.
He’s a wild card. A strong one. He “went dragon” on the battlefield, and she’ll know he’s taken out the mages in the Autumn Court tent.
As if feeling the impact of her stare, Colt turned his face toward her. He smiled and waved.
She lifted her hand to wave back. Abruptly, remembering he was her enemy, she jerked her hand back down.
This failed to dim Colt’s smile. He was the son of the Red Lady. He’d seen the strong-willed women in my harem. He knew women were troublesome by nature and took it in stride.
Queen Kellyn stood in front of her throne. “You have brought war to my lands. Did you get lost on the way to the Dragon Eye Kingdom?”
The Summer King said, “I followed the emanations of my stolen tie here. You are in league with the thieving Outsider.”
“His sins and crimes are his own. I just happen to be related by marriage. He’s my daughter’s consort.”
“Deliver him to me in chains, and return our ties, and we will leave you in peace,” he offered.
“My daughter carries his child. I will not give you what you are too weak to take.”
“Where is your honor?” he demanded.
The Winter Queen laughed, her breath white in the air. “It is not my problem. If you have complaints to make, speak to the High King himself.” She extended a hand to the side, pointing past the Shadow Queen, to me.
“High King!” The shimmer of heat around the Summer King thickened, rippling his image. His head turned. His stare locked onto me. Recognition flared. “You!”
I touched my chest and lifted my eyebrows as if there were some question. He stomped toward me, fire wreathing his hands.
Colt went several feet forward to intercept him, the nine-year-old looking frail and weak, like a reed about to be trampled. Confusion on his face, the Summer King stopped short to stare down at Colt.
“Anyone wants to hurt my dad has to go through me!” Colt said. The fervor he spoke with lent him dignity, keeping anyone from laughing.
The Summer King shot his gaze at me. “You are seriously going to hide behind a child?”
“I’m trying to be fair,” I protested. “I’m the Royal Executioner of the Dragon World. There isn’t a fey alive that can match me with weapon or magic. I’m trying to give you a fighting chance at survival.”
The Summer King’s face reddened dramatically. His hands trembled with rage. “But a child has no chance. I will not murder a child.”
“So, you’ll fight him if he’s not a child?” I asked innocently.
“My lord,” the Autumn King yelled. “Beware! It is a trap. That is the child that becomes a dragon. You cannot fight him, as diminished as you are.”
I sighed loudly. “You just can’t please some people. Okay, no dragons. Happy?”
The Summer King glared at me, waves of heat rolling off him. “You fight me. If you want to make it fair, we will vow to use weapons alone. No magic.”
Normally, this was what I’d agree to. But I had this little experiment with timelines going on…
“No. I promised Colt he could kill you. I won’t break my word to him.”
A red-copper blast of light fanned out from Colt. His form swelled. The light play died and the older Colt stood there, a demon sword gripped in one fist, a hunting knife in the other. Dressed in black, with a wife-beater sleeveless tee shirt, his pale-skinned arms provided contrast. The muscles on those arms were oversized, avoiding esthetic balance.
He smiled. His mature voice rolled out, an octave deeper. “I’m no longer a child. Do you have any more objections?”
The Summer King bared his teeth like a wolf. “Not at all. You’re welcome to be my meat. But we need to swear terms first.”
The queens left the dais and approached. Kellyn stood behind the Summer King. She echoed him. “Terms? What do you mean by that, Cadeyrn?”
Oh, I’ve been wondering what his name was.
I noticed the Autumn Lord and the two twins also closing the distance, not wanting to be left out of negotiations. The Autumn Lord inspected the Oracle, a thoughtful look on his face. The twins both scrutinized the new and improved Colt, no doubt wondering where the smaller version had gone to. The male twin’s face proved hostile and evaluating. Aleys’ expression was more open—and definitely appreciative. Her gaze traced Colt’s arms, his deep chest, and the balanced way he stood so he could move suddenly in any direction needed.
Cadeyrn turned to face the queens. “I fight for justice, and for the stolen ties. If I win, you must restore what was taken.”
Kellyn looked at me for my input.
“There’s a problem with that.” I swung the backpack I wore around so I could open its mouth and reach in. I pulled out the mega-tie sculpture. It’s size, crystal depths, and multi-hued inclusions drew all eyes. I began to lie in earnest because as a non-fey, I could. I hoped the Oracle would remain silent and not call me on my bullshit. “There’s no way back. The process to save the Land is begun. There must be a High King because the ties are fused. Only one can wield this now, sharing his power with others by consent.”
I looked at the Autumn King and the twin boy. “You trust Cadeyrn as an ally. Will you trust him with your ties, too, knowing he can’t give them back to you?”
The twin boy frowned. “No. That is not acceptable.”
“Definitely not,” the Autumn Lord agreed. He returned his curious gaze to the Oracle. “Is this true? Must there be a High King after so many ages?”
She met his stare with blind eyes. “It is long past time. The Land as a whole is failing. Even in the Phoenix Lands, the crops have been modest. Fewer children are born. Soon the fey race will grow sterile. The beasts of the Wildlands grow stranger, stronger, seeped long in wild magic. Without a High King, the Wild Hunt will return and none may stand against it. What we are doing may seem wrong to you, but the Land needs this. The Land demands this of us.”
The Autumn King nodded. “As Lord of the Dying Lands, I know the signs of death. I have seen all you describe, but I had thought we still had a few generation before things came to desperate strides.”
The Oracle kept her milky eyes on him. “I give you my word as fey that now is the time of the High King. One of you must rise to seize this power.”
A wide smile split Cadeyrn’s face. “One of us? So, there must be a High King, but any lord
can claim that station.” He turned to face his allies. “I will be a fair and just Overlord, and will leave you to rule your lands as you always have. All I ask is that you support me.”
I smiled. “Oh, you can offer more than that. If you win the fight and gain the master tie, how about you pledge on your honor to allow anyone willing to fight you—with weapons only—so they have the same opportunity as you to be the next High King?”
The Autumn Lord smiled, a crooked thing. “That sounds fair to me. I might like being a High King. I certainly couldn’t do worse than anyone else.”
The twin boy spoke up. “Our father is ailing. Indeed, he may be on his deathbed. I need the stolen tie to bond to the Phoenix Lands so that his death will not break the continuity of things.”
The Summer King looked at him. “We have no need for a weak and untried warrior on the High Throne, but I will let you fight for the master stone. I will accept all challengers, my word on it.”
The twin boy narrowed his eyes. “I have another option.” He grabbed his sister’s wrist. “Cad, you kill the usurper. Then you and Maxon fight.”
Maxon? The Autumn Lord?
The female twin seemed to sense where her brother was going with this. She whipped her arm free of his grasp, her face flaming red. “No, I will not be the prize at a Summer Fair.”
Her brother looked at her. “Our father would have married you off by now for political reasons, if this lingering sickness weren’t draining him so. It is your duty.”
“My duty is what I say it is. I have as much right to follow our father as lord as you do.”
The male twin absently fondled the hilt of the dagger in his belt. “I’m not so sure.” He shifted his stare from Maxon to Cad. “What if the one who wins your fight pledges to marry my sister. If our lands are bonded this way, I will feel secure in trusting either of you as the next High King.”
Both of the lords looked at the girl with new eyes, sweeping her carriage, taking note of her youthful beauty.
Maxon nodded decisively. “Done.”
Cad grinned at her possessively, lust in his eyes. “Agreed.”
Aleys’ face tightened with anger. Her eyes flashed fire. I suspected she clung to that angry response to hold panic at bay.
Colt looked at her, his face emotionless, a mask. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to lose. My pledge: I will not allow you to be forced into a marriage of convenience.”
His words calmed her. “I thank you for your gallantry and will hold you to that promise.”
I put the tie back in the backpack and slung it onto my back.
“I have a condition of my own,” Queen Kellyn said. “If Autumn and Summer Courts are both defeated in fair combat, and you lords survive, both will pledge to support the Dragon King as Overlord. He gives his word you can keep your kingdoms and run them as you see fit, unless you are troubling the Land. In such a case, he has the right to intervene as the Voice of the Land.”
The two lords took a few seconds to think that over. They nodded in unison. Maxon said, “Sounds fair, generous even.”
Cad said, “I agree.”
I smiled. “So do I but there is one condition I insist on. Whoever becomes High King has the right to confirm each kingdom’s heir—or to not do so. The ties have always offered themselves to their choice of successor. In my hands, or anyone else’s, that should remain true. It is the right of the Land herself to choose. No family has exclusive right to a kingdom. Even the High King will be chosen by the Land if I achieve that rank and should happen to die.”
I thought they’d go for this because it meant—if they lost to me—they still had a path open to absolute power.
“Agreed,” Cad spoke quickly.
“Done,” Maxon said.
The Oracle said, “Then all that’s left is to negotiate the rules of combat.”
“Rules?” Maxon questioned.
Cad lifted a single eyebrow in question. “There are no rules in combat. You do what you have to survive.”
“You already set a rule,” I reminded Cad. “No magic. Just a warrior’s weapon and his physical gifts. It has been agreed to.”
“Is anything else needed?” Maxon asked.
“One thing,” Colt said. “If the danger all face is equal, then the prize must be equally available. That includes Aleys’ hand. Should I win, I will not force marriage upon her, but I demand the right to court her, to win her heart against any suitor. And should any of them try to force her, I reserve the right to kill them in fair combat.”
Aleys smiled. “Agreed, so long as the final choice is mine.”
Colt nodded. “It will be. One last thing.” He turned cold eyes upon Cad. “I insist we fight in the firepit. I assume you have no objection.”
The Summer King smiled. “Not at all.”
SIXTEEN
“Fire dreams of devouring the
world, but I’m going to do it.”
—Caine Deathwalker
As everyone headed for the fire pit, I caught Colt by his brawny arm. I spoke in a low voice. “Any particular reason you’re giving him such an advantage? Fire is his element. Even if he doesn’t magically turn it into a weapon against you, it will feed his strength.”
“That’s what I’m counting on. If I can give him such an advantage and take him down effortlessly, overwhelmingly crushing him, do you think the Autumn King will take me on?”
I let his arm go. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
“After the disaster on the Dragon World, Mom took over my training. If I couldn’t stomp a candy-assed fey, I’d be too embarrassed to live.”
“Disaster, huh? The younger you mentioned that. Just how bad did I screw up the invasion?”
“We weren’t the ones invading. Grandfather Kur swallowed his pride and asked you for help. You just weren’t very good at giving it. They lost a third of their population before we…” He cut his words off sharply. “Sorry, you’re not supposed to know about that yet.” A brief, vindictive smile appeared. “The temporal integrity of the multi-verse is on the line. There could be dire consequences.”
“How did I piss in your cornflakes this badly? You’ve got a chip on your shoulder the size of the Red Moon.”
“You let her die to save me. I can never forgive that.”
“I let who die?”
He walked off without answering. I stood there and let him go, knowing this was not the time to get his mind off the coming fight. But later…
I’m going to pry the whole story out of Colt the Younger.
Picking out good spots, almost everyone ringed the fire pit: the lords, queens, our guards, the enemy guards… Aleys hadn’t made it that far. She’d dallied to became the second person to intercept Colt. He stopped, looming over her. It pissed me off that he had grown taller than me. And that he was flaunting it in such an obvious way.
I went on, pretending I wasn’t interested in their discussion, as I listened with acute dragon hearing, screening out other sounds.
“I want to thank you for taking my side,” she said.
Colt shrugged. “What’s fair is fair. No one likes to see a beautiful flower crushed.” He pushed on, forcing her to step hastily out of his way.
“Beautiful…” There was a hint of reverence in her voice as she stared after him.
I passed her and followed Colt to the edge of the fire pit. Those standing there parted, giving him access. He stripped off his shirt and let it drop. There was a long, ragged scar down his back I hadn’t known of. Seeing it, my heart went cold.
I truly hope that’s not my fault, too.
Colt jumped onto the bed of gravel, facing the mound of coal in the center of the circle. Cad stood on the mound, king of his little mountain, indifferent to the heat. He’d shed his cloak, but not the golden chainmail.
It has to be enchanted. Gold is a soft metal. Without being magic forged, the chains wouldn’t stop a blade. I noticed his boots weren’t smoking. They were likely enchanted as w
ell. Maybe freshly enchanted. Just because the Summer King couldn’t use magic during the fight didn’t mean he couldn’t use some before the fight started. Fey were skilled at drawing fine distinctions.
Fortunately, Colt wasn’t out of his element; as well as a goddess, his mother was a fire breathing dragon and so was he. Even in human form, fire couldn’t hurt him. I hoped.
As I took my place on the edge of the pit, a whirr descended. Silverwynd landed on my right shoulder. She sat and yawned. “What did I miss?”
“Colt’s going to fight a fey lord to the death to settle things for me.”
She bounced onto her feet, translucent wings shivering with rage. “The boy? You beast. You’d that to him?”
“His idea, and he’s not a boy anymore.” I gestured with my chin. “Meet Colt’s older from the future self.”
She stared, enveloped by silence. Even her wings were rigid. She shook off the mesmerizing spell. “That’s him? Maybe I need to reconsider that harem thing. He’s hot!”
“And getting hotter.” I wasn’t about to leave this entirely to Colt. I had a feeling that something underhanded might happen to leveraged the outcome. The prize was worth the effort. If it were me on the other side, I’d be stacking the deck like a Vegas card shark.
I concentrated on pooling my shadow magic, forming a mental image for it to take on beneath my clothes, across my chest. I flushed golden dragon magic across the pattern, invoking the Dragon Sight spell. For a moment, the hall turned crimson, then the color faded out. Afterwards, little glowing tags floated in the air wherever there were magical items. The tags were for my eyes alone. They gave me the relevant facts on those items.
Cad stretched out his legs, did a few squats, and rolled his shoulders and head, warming up as Colt waited with a bored expression on his face. The Summer King’s boots had a yellow numbered tag of light on them defining the magic type and spell level. The low-grade spell ensured the boots took no damage from heat. The leather breeches and flapping shirt of gold chainmail had similar tags, but the magic in the chainmail was high quality, the stored magic meant to stop enemy swords, daggers, and axes.
