Stone Blood Legacy

by Jayne Faith

  “I don’t know if he’s a Raven Master,” I said carefully.

  I did know he was a Grand Raven Master, but that wasn’t the same thing. A regular Raven Master was a trained keeper of the smaller messenger ravens. The Great Ravens were a different species. Splitting hairs by human standards, maybe, but that was how we Fae liked to roll.

  “Is he a Grand Raven Master?” she asked pointedly.

  Shit.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “That means he’s close to the information that’s coming in.”

  “Please don’t repeat that to anyone,” I said. I hated pleading. “He revealed himself as a Grand Raven Master to help me escape the Duergar palace. But King Periclase doesn’t know. I’m not sure any Duergar know.”

  Her brows shot up. For Marisol, that was the equivalent of screeching with surprise.

  “Interesting,” was all she said.

  “Will you keep his secret?” I pressed.

  “I will.”

  I could have asked for a binding agreement, but it would have pissed her off, and I didn’t need more Marisol ire piled on me. I was still bent on saving up my pennies and getting the hell out of Faerie and back to my job at the Guild as soon as she’d let me go. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about the fate of my people. I’d pledged my life to hunting criminal vamps because one of them had killed my mother. Working as a vamp hunter for the Guild was the best way I could think to honor the mother I’d never known. She’d been troubled and vulnerable, and there was a certain ilk of vamp who liked to prey on others like her. I wanted to save innocents from her fate, if I could.

  But for the moment I was in the fortress, and I also had to tell Marisol about the little errand to Melusine. She seemed skeptical at first, until I explained to her just how deeply Jasper believed King Periclase was digging in on this issue.

  “Jasper is sure that his father will never let Nicole go,” I said. “And I have no reason to doubt what he says.”

  “I don’t like being backed into a corner like this,” she said. “Nicole is here, she chooses to be here instead of with Periclase, and she’s proven she’s one of us. Not to mention that you defeated Periclase’s brother in the arena to atone for your so-called sin of rescuing Nicole from the Duergar.”

  “Yes, and I said all of that to Jasper, more or less.”

  “But if Periclase refuses to let it go, then I suppose we have no choice.”

  Marisol was in a tough spot. King Periclase was vying to absorb the New Gargoyle Stone Order into his court. He wasn’t the only one. We New Gargs didn’t have huge numbers, but we were born fighters and trained to be some of the best in combat in all of Faerie, as I’d demonstrated against his brother. That was one of the main reasons we’d remained independent up to this point. But it also made us a desirable addition to a kingdom. Periclase had submitted a formal appeal to Oberon to claim the Order as part of his kingdom.

  To make matters even more complicated for Marisol, King Periclase actually had some New Garg blood. The New Gargoyle Fae race had formed spontaneously at the Cataclysm, which was a break in the magical universe that happened before I was born. At that time, some Fae, like Marisol and my father, spontaneously became full New Garg. Other Fae spontaneously became part New Garg. Periclase was one of them.

  So, Marisol had been pitted against King Periclase in the political arena for the past several months. At first, she’d tried diplomacy tactics. In fact, when I’d rescued Nicole from the Duergar, I’d been part of a diplomatic envoy from the Stone Order. Maxen had led the trip, and then I’d royally screwed up his efforts by stealing Nicole. Not that it probably would have made much difference in the end. Periclase was a real asshole, and I seriously doubted he would have allowed himself to be talked out of his bid to absorb the Stone Order. I might, however, have forced the conflict to develop more quickly by escaping his clutches twice and then kicking Darion’s ass when Periclase tried to make me pay for it.

  Eh, too late to do much about any of that. Except that perhaps we could settle the question of Nicole’s bloodline, and thereby possibly get Periclase to back the hell off that, at least.

  If not for Periclase’s threat of ruining her plans for a proper court, I doubted Marisol would have given two shits about getting Melusine to verify Nicole’s lineage. It was an extreme thing to do in Faerie. Fae generally didn’t have the level of human-ish obsession with knowing who our biological parents were. Only when there was something significant at stake, and the average Fae wasn’t important enough for that.

  “Very well,” Marisol said, suddenly looking tired and older than I remembered. “You’ll go with Jasper in the morning to seek out Melusine. I’ll get someone to draw a sample of Nicole’s blood for you to take with you.”

  I inclined my head in a small bow and then about-faced and left. I was ready to turn in for the night, knowing it would be an early morning, but a page stopped me in the hallway outside Marisol’s office.

  “There’s a message waiting for you up front,” he said.

  I went to retrieve it. Another envelope like before, and this one was from Gretchen as well.

  I’ve been trying to reach you. We need to move on my mark. Contact me tonight, or I’ll assume you’re out.

  I glanced at the guards on either side of the main doorway. The fortress was still in lockdown. I’d only gotten out to speak to Jasper on Marisol’s order. If I couldn’t step outside of Faerie to call Gretchen, I’d be out a chunk of change. I wasn’t ready to give it up, even though I didn’t quite know how I could go after Gretchen’s mark and accompany Jasper to visit Melusine.

  Well, someone was going in and out of the fortress in order to retrieve messages from the Earthly realm like the one I held, so the lockdown wasn’t a perfect seal. I went to one of the house phones on the lobby wall and asked to be connected to Marisol.

  “I know we’re on high alert and comings and goings are restricted, but I need permission to step out of the fortress to contact someone at the Guild,” I said when she answered. “I just received a message from outside, and it’s rather urgent.”

  “Guild business is no longer your priority, Petra,” she said. She only sounded vaguely irritated. Mostly, she sounded distracted.

  “I understand, my lady, but I promise it’ll only take a moment. I’ll take a couple of guards with me if it would make you feel better about it.”

  “No, you’re capable of defending yourself,” she said brusquely. “Don’t go beyond the front door. You have five minutes to do your business. A second longer, and I’ll send a battalion out there to physically drag you back in. Wait in the lobby until I can get an officer down there to tell the guards you can pass.”

  I clenched my fist in a little gesture of victory. Sometimes, if you asked for what you wanted, you actually got it.

  While I was waiting for Marisol’s order to make it down the chain of command, my father strode into the lobby. He spotted me and turned my way.

  If Marisol was stoic, Oliver was downright stone-hewn. Large, muscled, and broad-shouldered even for a New Garg, he was one of the most powerful fighters in Faerie. He’d been close to Marisol since before I was born, defending her decisions and forwarding her mission of forming an official kingdom of the Stone Order as if they were his own personal obsessions. Until recently, I never would have guessed he’d kept any secrets from her.

  “Did you come to reclaim the title of champion?” I asked wryly when he approached.

  Oliver had been the Stone Order’s champion up until I’d taken his place. It wasn’t because I was better, but because King Periclase had called me out and I had to assume the title in order to battle in the arena.

  “Nah, you can keep it,” he said. Then he leaned in menacingly. “For now.”

  For a split second, I thought he was serious, but then saw a brief little glimmer in his eye. That was about as far as Oliver went in terms of a sense of humor. I cracked a small grin.

  “Mar
isol told me you’ll be going with Jasper to Melusine,” he said.

  I peered up at him, suddenly realizing what the implication of the quest might mean to him.

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  “We need to speak before you go,” he said. His tone foreshadowed something that made me suddenly uneasy.

  “Sounds serious,” I said.

  “Everything is serious these days.” He gestured at the guards. “I’ll let them know you can pass.”

  Sometimes I forgot that Oliver was a high-ranking officer in the Stone Order’s legion. I thought of him more as Marisol’s right hand than a military man, but in reality, he was both. Probably more. I’d long suspected that he’d shared Marisol’s bed at least occasionally over the years. He wasn’t Maxen’s father, though. Marisol had been married to a man who’d died around the time my mother passed away. Except for Maxen’s eyes, which were the same sapphire blue as Marisol’s, he was a spitting image of his deceased father, so his parentage was never in question.

  The guards let me out of the fortress, and I stepped through the invisible barrier that marked the line between Faerie and not-Faerie—the hedge. The barest whisper of magic passed over my skin like a silent breeze, pulling slightly at me as if it had some viscosity to it. Then I was across the hedge and standing in the Earthly realm.

  My phone lit up and made a series of blips as messages and missed calls downloaded. I didn’t bother looking at them, and instead called Gretchen directly.

  “How soon can you go?” she asked, not bothering with niceties.

  “First thing in the morning,” I said.

  I’d have to figure out how to juggle Gretchen and Jasper at the same time. My mind whirled, trying to work out logistics.

  “We need to go tonight,” she countered.

  I suppressed a groan. If there was any way I could pass this assignment, I would have, even in spite of the money on the line. I just didn’t have the bandwidth to attend to Faerie business and try to complete a Guild capture.

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Boise, near the Guild.”

  Boise was my adopted hometown, where I’d shared an apartment with my best friend Lochlyn up until recently.

  “I’m not able to go there,” I said, thinking fast. “You’ll have to come to San Francisco. We’ll pass through one of the local doorways here.”

  “Why?” she demanded, clearly annoyed.

  “I, uh, can’t leave the fortress tonight. Faerie business.” It was true. There was no way I could disappear into Faerie with Gretchen right then. “Catch the six-a.m. flight out in the morning and meet me at Fort Point near the Golden Gate Bridge.”

  “Petra, we need to go now. Plus, I need you to come and get me so we can travel by doorway. The Guild isn’t going to cover a flight.”

  “You can take the cost of travel out of my half,” I said, my words clipped with impatience. She seemed to be hemming and sawing, and my five minutes were almost up. “Look, do you want an escort into Faerie or not?”

  “Well, that’s where my mark is,” she said irritably. “But it’s your job on the line.”

  “I know, I know,” I said, my words rushed. “But I can’t come and get you right now, and I can’t help you tonight. Get on that flight, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  I hung up and scooted back into the fortress just under the buzzer. I grinned at the guards, who’d obviously been on the verge of coming out after me.

  “Carry on,” I said, and gave them a little salute.

  I’d been abrupt with Gretchen but didn’t know her well enough to guess whether she might complain to Gus. I put it out of my mind and headed for Oliver’s quarters.

  Outside his door, I stifled a yawn against the back of my wrist. It was getting late. So much for turning in early in preparation for what promised to be a very busy day.

  I knocked, and Oliver let me into his bare apartment. There was one easy chair and very little else in the way of furniture. He took the chair, and I removed my scabbard and sprawled on the floor. It was either that or stand.

  He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and pressing his fingertips together. My insides tensed as the silence stretched out. He was generally a man of few words, but his demeanor put me on edge. Whatever he had to say, it was either very difficult, very awkward, or something he knew I wouldn’t like.

  “I want you to be prepared for what you may learn from Melusine,” he said finally.

  My chest tightened. “Okay?”

  “I’m not a hundred percent sure I’m your blood father.”

  Chapter 5

  I BLINKED. “BUT I thought you and my mother were a couple. At least for a short time?”

  Oliver leaned back, drawing a long, labored breath, and looked off to the side before meeting my eyes. “You know the period around your conception and birth was a very tumultuous time, right?”

  I gave a little nod. “The Cataclysm happened not long before and basically turned Faerie and the supernatural world upside-down for a while.”

  “Your mother was troubled. It was a chaotic time. We were apart for long stretches.”

  My brows pulled down. I sat up out of my relaxed posture and pulled my knees into my chest. “She cheated on you?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Not exactly. I got the idea she may have been abducted, but she was in a state that made it hard to tell what was truth. I never really knew if it was against her will or not. Our relationship wasn’t, ah, strictly defined.”

  He let out a long breath and ran his hand over the top of his cropped hair.

  Something unpleasant began to take root deep in my gut. “Wait . . . she was abducted by, or with, or whatever, the Duergar? She was with Periclase?”

  His gaze met mine, and I knew the answer by the haunted look in his eyes.

  I squeezed my eyes closed, shaking my head. “You’re saying the fucking Duergar King Periclase might actually be my father?”

  When he didn’t respond, I opened my eyes.

  “It’s a possibility,” he said.

  “Wow,” I said lamely. I couldn’t seem to form a more coherent response.

  “I just wanted you to be prepared,” he said.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I pushed to my feet and reached down for Mort.

  Oliver rose and took a step toward me. “Petra . . .”

  I raised a hand. “No, don’t say anything. It’s fine. I’m sure you had a really good reason for keeping this from me. Just like you had a good reason to not tell me I had a twin sister out there. And to refuse to tell me who my mother is. I guess all the secrets are coming out into the open, now, huh?”

  I turned and left.

  Some part of me knew I shouldn’t be so angry with him, that he likely did have very good reasons to keep my lineage hidden. But in that moment, I felt betrayed, and I didn’t care about Oliver’s reasons.

  I stalked into my own quarters, only to be startled by Nicole’s presence there.

  Her eyes widened when she took in my expression, and I tried to settle my face into something less pissy.

  “Everything okay?” she asked cautiously.

  We’d been roommates for the past couple of weeks but had hadn’t seen much of each other as we’d gone our separate ways for most of each day. I usually didn’t return to crash until late at night, after she’d already turned in. It was only in the past few days that we’d started doing things like practicing in the training yard together. We were still strangers, for the most part. She even looked like a stranger—we barely resembled each other, except in a few vague ways like skin tone and eye color.

  “Eh, it’ll be fine,” I said.

  I took off my scabbard and propped it against the wall near the door and watched her for a moment as she went about making a sandwich in the kitchenette.

  I moved over to the counter and leaned a hip against it.

  “Actually, there is something,” I said. “This may not mean a ton
to you, all things considered, but Oliver just told me he’s not completely certain he’s our blood father.”

  She paused with a mayo-covered knife in her hand and looked up at me. “Who else would it be?”

  “You’re going to love this,” I said drily. “King Periclase.”

  The corners of her mouth pulled down, and she gave me a look like I’d just told her I wanted to serve her chocolate-covered dog shit for dessert.

  “Yeah,” I said. “My thoughts exactly.”

  She slowly went back to her sandwich-making, and I gave her a few seconds to digest the information.

  “Did someone already ask you for some blood?” I asked.

  She nodded. “And they told me it was to verify my parentage, but I had no idea . . . that was a possibility.”

  “I didn’t either, until a few minutes ago.”

  She looked up at me, her forehead lined with worry. “What are the implications?”

  “Well, if it turns out to be true, Periclase will try damn hard to get you to come back. He might try to do it by force.”

  “Even if I’ve sworn to the Stone Order?”

  I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I don’t think he’ll give up easily. Apparently, he’s really dug in on the idea that you’re his daughter, and if you are, that makes you a Duergar princess.”

  She huffed. “But wait. Isn’t that one girl also his daughter? The one who gave you the vamp ashes, what’s her name?”

  “Bryna,” I supplied. “Yeah, you’re right. He fathered her. But that’s the screwed-up thing about Faerie courts—well, one of many screwy things. Some children of royals are never officially recognized.”

  She leaned on the counter, her sandwich forgotten. “That makes no sense. You told me Fae fertility is really low, so children are prized. Children of royals are especially valuable because they can make strategic marriages or do diplomatic work like Maxen does. So why would Periclase deny Bryna?”

  “I don’t know the exact reason in her case, but it could be a number of things. King Periclase’s wife might have some special grudge against Bryna’s blood mother, and may have forbidden him from accepting Bryna as his.”