Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles)

by Suzanne Lazear

  His wife.

  Bran gave a little bow. “Her Grace seems to respond well in stressful situations.”

  “That she does … I … ” He shook his head. Steven should keep his worry that the people might not appreciate such an involved queen to himself.

  “We will need to debrief. Do you think you can tear her away?” Bran asked.

  “Indeed. Do you have any information about who caused this?” Steven asked. Bran always made him a little nervous.

  “My men are working on it, Your Grace. This could … get complicated.”

  “Yes, it could.” Steven remembered something. “Does the dark court have houses, like we do? I know little of the dark court.”

  “A few.” Bran nodded. “Mostly they were disgraced or exiled houses that sought refuge within the dark court, then flourished.”

  “I see.” Steven rubbed his chin. “The dark king belongs to such a house?” He recalled Aodhan’s sigil. Sometimes entire houses were cast out of their courts. The only choices were the dark court or going into the mortal realm.

  “Yes. Though that was more recent. Ciarán sought to bring honor to his dishonored house by taking the dark court from the previous ruler during the ogre rebellion. You were but a boy, so I don’t know if you recall that.”

  He didn’t. Tomorrow he’d read everything he could on recent dark court history.

  “It was a fire court house, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Bran replied. “Silver is fire court as well, though naught but a peasant. However, he was the dark king’s right hand man during all of that. It looks as if he’s decided to reclaim that position.”

  Kevighn, the right hand of a monarch? That surprised him.

  “Should we be worried?” Steven wondered.

  “Perhaps. After all, Silver was chosen to be the old high queen’s huntsman because of the prowess he demonstrated in the dark court. Not only did he and Ciarán take the court, but they quelled the ogre rebellion in one swoop. However, they aren’t our current problem.” Bran gave another nod. “I’ll gather your council and we’ll meet soon, if that pleases Your Graces.”

  Actually, Steven preferred to retire upstairs with Noli. But duty called.

  “Certainly,” he replied, “though Her Grace will want supper and hot tea. We’ll be there as soon as I convince Her Grace to have her injuries tended to.”

  A smile played at the corners of Bran’s lips. “Good luck with that.”

  Steven turned and walked back toward the room. Good luck indeed. He’d need it.

  “I promise a healer is nothing like a doctor.” Steven had Noli’s arm in a firm grip. He needed someone to look at her injuries before all the healers left.

  It was getting quite late and arrangements had been made for the injured and their families. Everyone else should be leaving if they hadn’t already. The grand banquet had been postponed. They also had a meeting to attend to. But first …

  “Must I?” Noli’s nose wrinkled.

  “Yes,” he assured her. “The patients have been seen to, the children are fine, and now it’s time for you to get looked after.”

  He was relieved that James and the children were safe upstairs and the dark court hadn’t used the distraction to kidnap them. A shadow fell over him and he put a protective arm around Noli.

  “If it isn’t the happy children,” Queen Tiana simpered. “Magnolia dear, I’m so sorry that everything ended like …

  this … ” She made an empty gesture with her dainty hands, crown gleaming in the lamplight.

  “It’s fine,” Noli replied. “I wish all balls were this exciting, though I could do without the injured, destruction, running, and screaming.”

  It was difficult not to laugh at such a Noli-like answer.

  The queen sniffed. “Yes … but to have your reign marred with such a thing … ”

  Noli paled.

  Steven squeezed her hand. “If you’ll excuse us … Mum.”

  The moment he said mum, Tiana softened. “Of course, of course.” She gave them a coy smile.

  Steven led Noli off. “Don’t listen to her. Coronations often end in disaster.”

  “They do?” Noli perked up.

  He wasn’t actually sure about that, but he didn’t want Tiana’s words to upset her. In fact, he hadn’t realized the high queen was still here. He hadn’t seen her since before the salamanders attacked and he’d assumed that she’d left like so many others. Then again, she had probably found her handmaidens and pumped them for information.

  “Now, let’s get your injuries tended to.” He gave Noli a soft smile.

  “Will you get looked over, too?” She eyed him.

  “Yes—and I’ll even hold your hand.” Anything for her.

  A slight smile played on her lips. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

  Supper eaten, he, Noli, and their advisors sat in the war room, though Padraig looked half asleep. Elric read over a list, frowning to himself.

  The door opened and the seneschal walked in. “Your Grace?”

  Noli looked up. “Yes?”

  The seneschal bowed deeply, eyes red. “My most humble apologies for your party being ruined. I—”

  Noli waved her hand. “Please stand. It’s not your fault. It happens, besides, it was a lovely party and we’ll just have to throw another soon.”

  Relief flooded his face. “Of course, Your Grace, after all, we really should still hold the banquet with the other monarchs at a later time.”

  “Go ahead and plan that for whenever everyone can attend. I’ll leave it all in your capable hands.” She smiled. “Again, the party was lovely. Good work.”

  “I appreciate your kind words, Your Grace.” He bowed and left the room.

  “That was charming,” Steven whispered to her. “More What Would Queen Victoria Do?”

  “More like my mother.” Noli shook her head in amazement. “I actually learned things from her. But don’t tell her I said that.” She grinned.

  Elric looked up from his list. “Are we ready?”

  Noli glanced at Steven. “I believe we are.”

  “There were no fatalities. There were a number of injuries, but only a few are serious and the healers assure me everyone will be fine,” Elric reported. “We should make sure the queen of the water court understands how appreciative we are that she not only allowed her handmaidens to assist with healing the injured, but after seeing Her Grace tend to everyone, she herself assisted. I hadn’t realized that she was such a skilled healer.”

  Padraig snorted. “The best healers are water court.”

  It was one of those handmaidens who’d seen to Steven and Noli.

  “Of course,” Noli told Elric. “We should express our appreciation appropriately; will you please make sure the proper person sees to that?”

  He inclined his head. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  Steven looked at Bran. “The fire court did it, didn’t they?”

  “Them or the dark court,” Elric mumbled. “Nothing but hoodlums and ruffians.”

  Noli peered at them over her teacup. “We shouldn’t make assumptions without all the facts.”

  “Her Grace has a point,” Padraig said. “Bran, any ideas?”

  “It’s the fire court, of course,” Elric interjected.

  Bran shook his head. “One would think … but I’m not certain.”

  “You’re not?” Steven and Elric replied in unison. If not them, then who?

  “No,” Bran continued. “I’ve spoken to the guards and had the wards checked. The salamanders didn’t force their way in, which means they were let or brought in by someone.”

  “They weren’t let in by our own people, were they?” Noli frowned. “Not that I’d like to think one of our guests would do such a thing.”

 
“If it wasn’t the fire court, then it was Ciarán and his ruffians,” Elric huffed.

  “Why?” Noli cocked her head. “Yes, yes, I understand that the fire court is our opposite, but opposite doesn’t necessarily mean enemy. Also, I think we’re greatly misunderstanding the dark court.”

  “Her Grace needs more time to understand the histories of the courts and our relations with them,” Elric scolded.

  “At this time we can’t prove anything.” Bran frowned. “Despite the obvious, both the dark court and fire court appear innocent, but I will continue to investigate this most thoroughly.”

  “If it’s not them, who could it be?” Steven asked. There weren’t any other options that he could think of.

  Bran tapped his chin. “There are rumors of a new rebellion forming, against whom I’m unsure. They could be behind it. Also, perhaps it was someone within a court acting unofficially. We need to look beyond the obvious—since it would be a natural assumption for it to be the fault of the fire court if salamanders were used.”

  “You mean someone from another court might use salamanders and think they’d get away with it because the fire court would be blamed?” Noli’s face scrunched.

  “But don’t you need to control fire in order to control salamanders?” Elric replied.

  “I suppose you could catch them and release them without bothering to control them.” Padraig shrugged. “Obviously, we’re not going to discover who was behind this tonight.”

  “No, we’re not.” Noli looked thoughtful.

  “I still vote for the dark court or fire court,” Steven muttered. It was the logical explanation, no matter what Noli thought.

  “I as well,” Elric added.

  Padraig stood. “If it is all right with Their Graces, I believe we should adjourn?”

  Elric held up a hand. “I have a question for Her Grace. How did you know how to tap into the magic in order to stop the fire? Your performance today was quite impressive. I was under the impression that your training in magic has been … minimal.”

  Noli took a deep breath. “I acted on instinct—and, well, V told me I could do it.”

  A scowl crossed Elric’s face as if her answer was unsatisfactory.

  “I believe that’s enough, chancellor. Yes, I know there’s much to do—people need to be reassured, we need to take stock of any remaining damage, create a plan, keep investigating, and such. However … ” Padraig, who was still standing, looked stern. “I think, given what today represents, we should allow Their Graces to retire?”

  Elric’s face went red. “Yes, of course. We’ll convene in … say, the afternoon? No sense meeting early.”

  Noli perked up. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”

  Steven held out his hand to Noli. “If I may?”

  She stood. “But of course.”

  He put an arm around her waist. Hopefully the children would be asleep and everyone else would make themselves scarce. Yes, this night represented quite a bit—and hopefully she’d see it the same way.

  Twenty-Four

  Tonight

  “That was the worst day ever,” Kevighn mumbled, hunched over the bar at the Thirsty Pooka. Magnolia had gotten married, salamanders attacked, and they hadn’t retrieved Aodhan. “I need another drink, Deidre,” he told the bartender.

  He’d had several already, since Ciarán had gone right upstairs to take care of some business. Kevighn was still drinking when the dark king came back down to the bar.

  “You drink too much.” Hood up, Ciarán went behind the bar, grabbed a few bottles of wine, and headed for the kitchen.

  Kevighn followed Ciarán up the back stairs into his private quarters. This place was quiet without Aodhan. Mere days and already it felt like home again.

  But Ciarán was right. While he loved his cabin, this place had very much been home to him once. After his parents had been murdered. As he and Ciarán made their plans. As they fought to keep hold of the dark court after taking it and starting a new order.

  And then he’d left …

  When Ciarán had needed him most, he’d left—abandoned his old and dear friend and joined the high court, of all things. Not that one could really ignore an order from the high queen.

  Sure, he’d been hurt, but none of that—the women, the drugs and drinking—none of that had brought Creideamh back.

  Killing Quinn hadn’t brought her back either.

  Kevighn slammed his fist into the nearest wall. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

  “You’re an idiot. Fortunately, you’re a lovable idiot.” Ciarán’s hand clapped his wrist. “Come on.” He shoved him up another set of stairs, sat him down someplace, and put a bottle in his hand.

  “I thought you said I drink too much.” Kevighn took a pull right from the bottle, not even tasting it.

  “You do. Let everything go.” His voice went quiet. “It’s time.”

  Kevighn shook his head. “But my sister trusted me.”

  “She did—and it wasn’t your fault. She knew that; otherwise, do you really think Aodhan would be here with us?” Ciarán threw back his hood and gazed into the quiet night. The only light and noise came from the tavern itself.

  “I haven’t failed on a hunt in a long time,” Kevighn admitted. “Perhaps I’m losing my touch.” First Magnolia, now Aodhan. Looking up, he realized that he sat next to Ciarán on the roof of the tavern. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed. It had been a long time since they’d sat up here.

  Ciarán shook his head, taking the bottle from his hand. “You’re not losing your touch. No one’s perfect. Not me, not you. We’ll get him back. Please tell me you have a lead on Magnolia’s father.”

  He recalled that odd place of wild magic. “Yes. I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “Good.” Ciarán drank directly from the bottle then handed it back to Kevighn.

  “What if we don’t find him? It’s been a long time.” Kevighn looked out into the dark and endless sky.

  Ciarán sighed. “Then we’ll make the trade.”

  “We will?” Kevighn did a double take.

  A derisive laugh escaped Ciarán’s lips. “Yes, I might actually make a deal. My son—and you—mean that much to me. But it’s not as if she knows how many pieces we have. Also, we’re going to have to work together eventually to assemble it. Probably sooner rather than later, given everything. Even if the girl’s not ready.”

  “True.” Kevighn stole a glance at Ciarán’s face. The hood had slipped down and something … something in those amber eyes made Kevighn’s stomach tighten, and not in a bad way. “What were you meeting about just now?”

  “While we were all at the earth court for the party, Tiana had one of the villages under my protection raided and dragged off an inventor and several boys carrying long knives.” Ciarán pounded the roof with his fist, snatched the bottle of wine, and took a long pull. When he finished, his eyes glowed with anger. “Aire’s brother is leading a team to get them back. I’ve sent extra soldiers to protect the other villages, but we must put a stop to this. You do know the high queen is one of the few people who could have set the salamanders loose on the wedding.”

  “And the last person anyone would blame,” Kevighn replied, coming to that conclusion himself but having the sense not to say it. It would be treason. But she could control all the elements. Even fire. “Will the little girl be enough?” Elise was just a child.

  “Children grow up. Also, anyone is better than Tiana.” Ciarán sighed. “We need to start gathering our usual allies, to see who in the other courts feels the same way. We can’t do this alone.”

  That was treason also.

  Ciarán took another long drink, then handed it to him. “You can finish it. I brought another bottle.”

  Kevighn took the bottle and downed it. He had a feeling he’d need it. “Why do you tru
st me?”

  “Grief can make us idiots. You’ve always been there for me when it counted.” Ciarán’s voice went raw. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You were there when we’d go adventuring as boys, when I took over the tavern, when I had this crazy idea that perhaps I, some disgraced fire court brat with no parents, could become king of the fiercest court. That means something to me.”

  “You were there for me, too.” Kevighn set the empty bottle

  down on a flat space before he dropped it and it rolled off the roof.

  “That’s what family does.” Ciarán scooted closer and reached into his cloak pocket. “It’s time to take your place in this family.” He held out a sigil, one identical to his and Aodhan’s.

  Kevighn’s heart sped at all it implied, and he knew that Ciarán meant this gesture in many ways. Sometimes he wondered whether he’d brought all those girls into his life in part to convince himself that they were what he wanted. Not Ciarán. Not someone from a great house. Not someone who was now king.

  Not someone far too good for a peasant such as himself.

  “Take it, you fool.” Ciarán’s eyes glowed in the darkness.

  There was no one outside of Creideamh that Kevighn trusted more … and Creideamh was gone. If a rebellion was brewing, his place was here. Also, there was Aodhan. His sister would never forgive him for neglecting her child.

  He gazed up at Ciarán. “It doesn’t matter that I’m common?”

  “Has it ever?” Ciarán asked.

  Kevighn sucked in a sharp breath. No, it never had. “I accept.”

  “Good.” Ciarán placed the sigil around his neck.

  Kevighn picked up the medallion and examined it. “I never thought I’d have one of these.”

  “You’re a fool.” Ciarán’s look grew fond as he opened a new bottle of wine. “Now, let’s drink. To freedom and family.” He raised the bottle, took a drink, and handed it to Kevighn.

  “To freedom and family.” The two things that mattered most to a man. The two things Kevighn intended to keep, no matter what the cost.