Stone Blood Legacy

by Jayne Faith

  “I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head. “Where is he?”

  “With the Undine.”

  One corner of my mouth pulled down. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  The Undine were water elementals, Fae whose territories spanned oceans, rivers, lakes, marshes, and some of the shores that bordered waterways. The Undine kingdom was aligned with the Unseelie, but traditionally they weren’t heavily involved in Faerie politics. That was primarily because they weren’t like the rest of us. They were water people, with a culture and a language that made them foreign and strange to the land-dwelling Fae. They’d never cared much about the power struggles of other kingdoms because the affairs of the “land realms,” as they called the rest of us, were irrelevant to them, except when the events on land affected their waterways.

  To the rest of us, the Undine were one of the Unseelie shadow kingdoms, like the Baen Sidhe, Elves, and a handful of others. Realms that often didn’t play by the same rules as the rest.

  “So, we’d have to go through a few doorways to get into the Undine kingdom,” I said. The shadow kingdoms didn’t allow foreigners to come in directly in one jump. You always had to take a series of doorways to enter them, and you never knew exactly how many doorways you’d have to pass through to get to the final destination. It was suspected that through the series of doorway jumps, a warning was somehow sent that foreigners were approaching. It was a requirement only the shadow kingdoms knew how to impose, and a trick that the other kingdoms would love to get their hands on.

  Jasper nodded, his golden eyes intent. “The Cait Sidhe doorway was just the first step.”

  “Okay, so what now?” I asked.

  He cocked his head, and his lips twitched with mild amusement. “Does that mean you’re coming with me? Your message strongly implied otherwise.”

  My face hardened. “That was before the Unseelie High Asshole sent servitors right into the middle of our family quarters,” I said, my voice harsh. “They appeared in the kids’ play area.”

  Jasper blinked, and his cheeks paled. “Damn it to Maeve,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry. Was anyone . . .?”

  I shook my head. “No fatalities. But that was pure luck. At a different time, the hallways would have been full of children much too young to defend themselves.”

  He lowered his eyelids for a moment and let out a breath. “Thank Oberon.”

  I snorted derisively. “Not really. Oberon has skipped town. I don’t think he deserves our thanks for anything at this point.”

  Jasper lifted a palm. “Aye, but you know, figure of speech.” His expression turned thoughtful. “Perhaps it wasn’t luck?”

  “What wasn’t luck?”

  “The timing of the attack,” he said. “There have been a dozen servitor attacks by now, but almost no fatalities. Perhaps the attack was timed when there were no children about.”

  “We lost someone,” I said. “Not this attack, but the one before.”

  “At the risk of sounding hard-hearted, could it have been an accident in the midst of the fighting? Friendly fire, so to speak?”

  My brow furrowed. “Possible, I guess. I was looking elsewhere when it happened. But in the first attack, the one on King Sebastian at the nightclub, some of his men died by poisoned knife. Those little ninja guys were pretty deadly.”

  “Hm,” he said. “True. But don’t you think it odd that with so many attacks maybe only a dozen have perished?”

  “Odd, perhaps, but that’s not really my main concern,” I said. “Why is Finvarra sending the servitors at all?”

  “That’s what I want to find out,” he said. His gold eyes sparked. “Are you game?”

  I spread my hands. “Why us? Seriously, it’s not that I don’t care about what’s going on, but wouldn’t this be best left to the people who normally handle this sort of thing?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said mildly. “But that’s just my opinion, of course.”

  “But why?” I pressed.

  He sighed in a way that reminded me of Oliver, back when I was a teenager and I was pushing him on some point.

  “Because I think the leaders you speak of, the ones who usually handle diplomacy, are the very problem,” he said. “I think their ways are ineffective. The bureaucracy and infighting and power plays are causing our difficulties.”

  My brows lifted a little. Now Jasper was speaking my language. I was all for less bureaucratic nonsense.

  “I don’t believe Finvarra will receive them,” Jasper continued. “Further, there is the small but notable fact that I’m his only son. I don’t want to play that card, but if I have to do it to gain audience, I will.”

  “Or maybe he’ll think you’re coming for his seat on the High Throne,” I said jokingly.

  Jasper frowned, clearly not amused.

  “Uh, I’m sure he won’t think that,” I said quickly.

  “So? Are you in?”

  I bit my bottom lip for a moment. “Yes. But I’m going to let Marisol know what I’m doing.”

  His face tightened. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “I know, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think it’s the right thing to do.” I kind of hated myself as I said it. But going to the Unseelie High King was no small thing. I was the Stone Order’s champion, and I had a responsibility in the way I represented my people. And as much as every fiber of my being railed against it on a daily basis, I had an obligation to my leader.

  “Shall we meet back here later, then?”

  I nodded. “An hour.”

  When I entered the fortress, Emmaline pounced.

  “You have an appointment with Maxen and Nicole in twenty minutes,” she said.

  A different page trotted up to me and held out a scroll. “A message for you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said wryly as I recognized Jasper’s seal.

  The page gave me a questioning look, but I didn’t want to explain why the note was now pointless. I opened it and a quick glance showed it was indeed the second message from Jasper. I balled it up, and it disappeared with a wisp of smoky magic.

  “Before I go to Maxen and Nicole, I need to tell Marisol something,” I said to Emmaline. We started walking through the lobby toward one of the main arteries through the fortress.

  “Let me check her agenda.” Emmaline tapped at her tablet for a moment. “She’s in a private meeting for the next three hours.”

  “It’s really important,” I said.

  She shook her head. “This one is set to ‘do not disturb.’”

  I pulled a hand down my face and swallowed a grumble. Red tape, even when I was trying to do the right thing.

  “Okay, what does that mean?” I asked. “Is there anyone at all who can give her a message?”

  “You can pass it to her proxy, and he or she has the power to decide whether it’s urgent enough to interrupt.”

  So. Much. Red. Tape.

  “Let’s do that,” I said. At least Marisol would know I tried.

  She pulled out a notecard and a pen from the pockets of her page’s vest and took the pen’s cap off with her teeth.

  “What’s the message?” she asked around the cap.

  I gave her a side eye.

  “Or you can write it yourself and then seal it with your stamp,” she offered.

  I flapped my hand. “Nah, it’s not that sensitive. As long as you keep the contents to yourself.”

  “Of course,” she said crisply.

  “Jasper and I—” I started and then stopped. “No, scratch that.”

  She pulled a fresh card out of her pocket.

  “Jasper Glasgow asked me to accompany him to question Finvarra about the servitor attacks. Finvarra is in the Undine kingdom.”

  Emmaline had paused when I said Finvarra’s name. When I got to the part about the Undine, she looked over at me.

  “You’re . . . Finvarra . . .” she faltered. “The Undine kingdom?”

  I nodded.


  “I should get this to Marisol’s proxy right away,” she said.

  I placed my hand on her arm. “Actually, I changed my mind. Wait until I’ve left before you deliver this.”

  She blinked. “But I shouldn’t—”

  “That’s an order,” I said. “Sorry, but I’ve gotta pull rank on this.”

  If I was going with Jasper, I wanted to do it without interference. Either I was doing this or Marisol was. If I gave her an opening to interfere, I’d likely end up trapped while the bureaucrats hemmed and hawed over who to send, what they should wear, how their hair should be done, and what drinks should be served while they talked. No. Just, no. I was going, and I was doing it my way.

  Emmaline looked decidedly unhappy.

  “I’ll take the blame for it,” I said. “In fact, here.”

  I held out my hand, flipping my fingers at the card she’d written out. She handed it to me reluctantly, and I folded it and stuffed it in my pocket.

  “I’ll find you before I leave and give it back,” I said. “See? You can’t give Marisol’s proxy even if you wanted to.”

  She gave me a wry, lids-lowered look. “That’s not exactly a solution to my moral dilemma.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a huge pain in your ass, and we both know it.”

  She snorted wryly but didn’t disagree.

  We’d reached the hallway for my quarters.

  “I’ll be back for that,” she said, giving my pocket a pointed look. Then she peeled away to continue on while I stopped at my door.

  I let myself in, half-expecting Maxen and Nicole to already be curled up on the sofa next to each other. Nicole was there, but Maxen wasn’t. I was a few minutes early for the meeting, and I was glad Maxen and I hadn’t arrived together. It would look less like we were ambushing her.

  Nicole looked up from her book.

  Feeling like kind of an ass over what Maxen and I were about to do, I pasted on a smile. “They gave you a few minutes to yourself, huh?” I landed in the chair that was situated at a right angle to the sofa.

  She kept a finger in the book to hold her spot. Her eyes, the same tawny colors and pattern of mine, looked tired.

  “Yeah,” she said. “It was a welcome break. They’ve been pushing me hard with all the Faerie homecoming stuff.”

  Poor sis. They weren’t actually giving her a break. Not for her benefit, anyway. They’d just set her free so Maxen and I could corner her and, at Marisol’s orders, try to get her to swear fealty to the Stone Order.

  I leaned forward and propped my elbows on my knees. “So, how are you?” I asked, sincerely interested.

  She shrugged one shoulder and looked at a spot on the floor. “I still have moments when I think I might wake up and find it was all a dream. Most of the time I wish it was.” She looked up. “But not always.”

  I wondered if Maxen had anything to do with that.

  “It’s a lot,” I said, leaning back. “And this business with King Periclase . . . I’m sorry that being kidnapped by the Duergar was your introduction to Faerie. I’m even sorrier that he’s your father. Our father.”

  She let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, that was a real kick in the stomach. How are you handling it?”

  My brows rose. So few people knew the truth of my bloodline, so it wasn’t a question I expected to encounter.

  “Honestly, I haven’t had much time to think about it,” I said. I gave a small shake of my head. “But I’m not thrilled.”

  “Yeah, Dad seems like a real dick,” Nicole said.

  I let out an unexpected laugh. I’d never imagined I’d be sitting in my fortress quarters talking to my twin sister about our asshole Duergar father.

  There was a soft rap at the door, and I got up to answer it. Maxen stood there. He nodded at me and then looked past my shoulder to give Nicole a slight smile.

  “Lord Lothlorien,” I said with exaggerated formality. “What a pleasant surprise. Do come in.”

  He shot me a warning look as he moved past me into the apartment.

  “How are your studies going?” he asked Nicole.

  He sat down next to her on the sofa, moving in a familiar way that said he’d sat there several times before. He left a bit of distance between them but angled his body toward hers and rested his elbow on the sofa’s back.

  She set her book aside and smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Progress is slow, but it’s still progress, I guess.” She sounded tired and gave a dismissive little shrug as she spoke, but her face had warmed the minute he’d walked in.

  “By all accounts you’re doing better than you let on,” he said. He flipped a glance at me, his eyes widening slightly as if trying to send me a signal. “Why don’t you sit down with us, Petra?”

  I gave him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’d love to,” I said with inflated enthusiasm. I sashayed over and landed on the recliner.

  Nicole’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she looked back and forth between the two of us. I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter. It wouldn’t really do any good to try to sabotage the task Marisol assigned us. After all, she was right. It wasn’t safe for Nicole to go back to the Earthly realm since Periclase knew he was her father.

  I turned my gaze to my sister. I couldn’t help what had happened to her, but I could at least be as straight as possible with her.

  “Outing you as Periclase’s daughter has changed things,” I said.

  She glanced at Maxen. “How so?”

  “It’s confirmed that you’re a Duergar princess. And for whatever reason, even though you’re not his, ah, legitimate daughter by his wife, he’s latched onto the idea that he wants you in his kingdom. He’s not going to let go of it.”

  She pushed her hands up and down across her jeans-covered thighs in an agitated little gesture. “I don’t understand, though. He has that other daughter, Bryna. She’s illegitimate, too, and actually lives there in the Duergar palace, but he won’t officially acknowledge her as his. Why is he so hell-bent on bringing me into the fold?”

  Nicole and I had talked about this before, but I understood why she still found it so bizarre. I didn’t know the reasons behind Periclase’s rejection of one daughter and obsession with the other, either. That was Faerie for you.

  I glanced at Maxen. Tag.

  “It could have to do with Bryna’s mother,” Maxen said. “Officially accepting Bryna as his could weaken Periclase’s power in some way. That’s my guess anyway.”

  “That’s basically what Petra said before,” Nicole mumbled. She’d crossed her arms and pulled up her feet, and seemed to be shrinking back into the corner of the sofa.

  “Believe me, I’d like to know too,” I said, giving Nicole a pointed look. Whatever I was saying about her bloodlines and her fate applied to me, too, though Maxen didn’t know it.

  The reminder that she had a relative in the room seemed to relax her by a small degree.

  “What are you saying, then?” Nicole asked, looking at me this time. “That he’s going to try to kidnap me again from now until forever?”

  “If he has the opportunity, he probably will,” I said carefully.

  She frowned for a moment, and then her eyes widened and several emotions passed over her face in the span of a second or two.

  “I can’t go back,” she whispered. “If I go back home, he’ll come for me again. Is that what you’re saying?”

  Neither Maxen nor I responded right away, and by our silence she had her answer.

  “I’m sorry, Nicole,” I said. “But you’d never be completely safe. And if he takes you again . . .”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say that we wouldn’t try to rescue her. It was too cruel.

  I leaned back and looked at the floor, feeling like an absolute shit. I was done. If there was anything left to be said, Maxen would have to do it.

  There was a tiny, helpless noise, and I looked up to see Nicole swiping tears away from her lower lids. Maxen moved closer to her and put
his arm around her. He didn’t pull her to him, and she didn’t lean into him, but they somehow fit together and the gesture seemed to comfort her.

  “We want you here,” he said, his voice heating. “I want you here.”

  She gave him a watery smile of gratitude, and I saw it in her eyes: she was falling for Maxen.

  I pulled my lips in and bit down hard. If he was playing her, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. If he wasn’t playing her, Oberon help them both.

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  “Stay,” he said. “You’ll be safe with us. You’ll have a life here. This won’t be your jail. It will be your home. It already is because you’re stone blood. You’ll still be able to venture out to the Earthly side of the hedge. We’ll find a way to make it safe for you to do so once in a while. But you’ll live here.”

  She looked into his blue eyes, and I saw a wisp of relief in her face. She wanted resolution. She wanted to be safe.

  “I should at least tell my father I’m alive,” she said. “My mother has been gone a long time, and my father remarried and moved away, and he and I don’t speak much anymore. But he should at least know.”

  “Of course,” Maxen said.

  “Okay,” she said finally and then heaved a deep sigh. “I’ll swear to the Order.”

  I stood quietly.

  “I’m glad,” I said. “I want you here, too.”

  It was true, I realized. I didn’t know her. I had barely any sense of her personality. I wanted the chance to get to know my twin sister.

  “Are you leaving?” Nicole asked.

  I nodded. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be. But we’ll talk soon.”

  My gaze met Maxen’s, and in his eyes I saw a storm of emotions that took me aback. Trained as a diplomat practically since birth, he knew how to control his expressions. But right then, he was overwhelmed. I saw some guilt there, sympathy, and maybe a trace of sadness. He turned back to her, and I could see enough of his face in profile, read enough in his body language to know he was genuinely overjoyed that Nicole was staying, and it had absolutely nothing to do with his mother’s strategies. I’d known Maxen since we were kids. He’d made plenty of overtures toward me. But this was different. He wasn’t just smitten with Nicole. He was completely, head over heels, gone.