Heir Of Doom

by Jina S Bazzar

  I almost asked her how I could ward the apartment, but swallowed the words in time. Her eyes twinkled, her expression knowing.

  “Come on, show me how this works. My coffee is getting cold.”

  I ambled around the division and found… eggs. She was trying to light the stove to fry eggs – with shells still intact. Three whole eggs sat inside Frizz's bowl, waiting to be fried atop the stove. I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. And if hysteria bubbled out with the laughter, I couldn't help that either.

  “You dare mock me?” she asked, posture stiff, eyes no longer amused.

  My laughter died as abruptly as it had started. I shook my head, afraid to speak. Before she could do something about my insolence, I cracked the eggs into the bowl – to her delight – and placed a skillet where the bowl had been, turning it on before grabbing salt from the cupboard.

  “Ah, that's how. I admit, I almost lit it with blue fire.” She gave me a puzzled frown and I offered to fry it for her.

  She watched my every step, taking it all in. The butter when it sizzled and melted, the eggs being whisked with milk and salt, the mixture being poured into melted butter. When it began to solidify, she clapped and jumped twice. “Wonderful.” She laughed, the sound musical.

  When I reached for a plate in the cupboard, I realized just how much my hands were shaking.

  She ate like a starving woman. As if this would be the last meal she would eat for a long time to come.

  When she finished savoring the last bite, she smacked her lips in contentment, drank the last of the coffee, her eyes assessing me over the rim of the mug.

  “Now, daughter of Fosch,” She began after placing the mug in front of her, “I am here to collect our bargain.”

  I swallowed, my untouched coffee on the island in front of me. My tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of my dry mouth.

  Lee studied me for a long time. Every second that passed with her eyes focused on me, my heart beat faster, my stomach churned harder.

  “We have a bargain,” she said. “I am here to collect.” When again I didn't respond, her eyes darkened with anger. “Do you renege on your word, as your cowardly sire did before you?”

  She rose, and I hurried to do the same. I noticed that she was taller than me by about two or three inches. I had an urge to see if she was wearing heels, remembering that when we met in the Low Lands, we were the same height – and that she had been barefoot. She cocked her head, her green eyes glittering like two emeralds – cold and unfeeling.

  Fear stabbed through my soul. “What do the bargain entails?” I managed to ask.

  “We have a bargain, aye or nay?” She pressed.

  I nodded, swallowed and replied, “Yes, we do.”

  “Excellent,” She said, inclining her head in approval. “You will fulfill your original role, before Dhiultadh Fosch broke the rules and forfeited his existence.”

  I froze. Inwardly, I shook. My fear was painful, paralyzing in its intensity.

  “Tonight you will come to the Sidhe land and meet with Oberon. I will come fetch you when the clock tolls twelve. Be ready.” With that she disappeared, as if she had never been there. All that remained as proof of her visit was the empty plate and coffee mug.

  Frizz pressed against me, and I looked down at him, sensing his need to reassure. I scratched his head as if he were a cat, knowing how much he liked it. “Fulfill my original role?” His ears flattened and I scratched them, too.

  A full circle.

  “Maybe they'll kill me before Archer can.” I picked him up and hugged him, needing the comfort he offered.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When Zantry arrived late in the afternoon, I was preparing chicken dumplings from a recipe I'd found on the Internet. He stepped inside, his hair must and wet from the cold drizzle, dressed all in black, those violet-blue eyes contrasting nicely. He smelled like hot spices, with an undertone of something citrusy. He carried an arrangement of colorful roses, some still budding, others in full bloom.

  My God, he was so perfect. So beautiful.

  His smile flashed, a hint of a dimple appearing on his left cheek.

  I narrowed my eyes at the smug smile, suspicious he could read minds.

  He flicked a finger over my nose and stepped aside for me to close the door. “Your thoughts are written in your eyes, beautiful one.” He bowed once, offering the gorgeous bouquet.

  “Aren't you the smooth one?” I asked, accepting the flowers, my lips lifting with a genuine smile. I stepped aside for him to pass, wondering for the first time if he had a car.

  Zantry paused by the fridge and I stepped around him, grabbing a glass pitcher from the cupboard and placing the bouquet inside. Should I fill it with water? Unable to help myself, I bent to sniff the perfume of the blossoms, a smile stretching my face from ear to ear. Realizing I looked like a fool, I checked on the dumplings to give myself a few seconds to compose my expression. I stirred once, fragrant steam rising with the motion.

  “Hope you're very hungry. I went wild here and made enough for a herd of elephants.” I glanced back, a half smile still playing around my lips.

  He still stood where he'd paused. His unsettled expression had my smile dimming, my back straightening.

  “What is it?”

  “Leon. She was here.”

  My smile crumbled. I wasn't going to tell him. I was going to ask him to go alone to the Low Lands this time, make up an excuse to be home and alone by midnight. But now, here, seeing his wary expression, I wondered if it was the right choice. There was an easiness about our talks, an openness I only had with Vicky, an instinct of trust.

  And there was so much about the Sidhe I didn't know; he could advise what to do and what to say, and what not to. If there was a protocol I should follow so not to offend anyone and find myself being accused of a grave wrong.

  “She was here earlier, yes.”

  Zantry stepped forward, his eyes searching mine. “Friend or foe?”

  “I'm not sure. Not a friend, certainly, but I'm not sure about the foe. Yet.”

  “Do you want to tell me?” My choice. He wasn't going to insist, or push me to tell. And he'd be alright with either choice. I could see that from his open expression.

  “Let's eat first. Are you hungry?”

  Zantry sniffed once, glancing at the covered pan. “Like an elephant.”

  He set the table – or island – with plates, forks, knives, glasses and folded napkins. He removed a single red rose from the bouquet, placed it inside a tall glass, and placed it in the middle of the table/island.

  I watched, half amused, half touched.

  “Where do you put your candles?” he asked, opening a drawer.

  Startled, I shook my head. “What for? I don't have any.”

  His astonishment was comical. And he wasn't faking it. Or, at the very least, he was puzzled. “Why not?”

  “I don't need them. I can see well in the dark.” Now his surprise was genuine, and I couldn't help but fidget.

  “You're the first woman I've met to actually say that and mean that. You aren't joking.”

  His bafflement was palpable, and I frowned, wondering what was wrong with my reply. Wasn't I supposed to have good night vision? Was that another anomaly?

  A smile lightened his expression, widening and widening until he was laughing merrily.

  “I don't see what's so funny,” I muttered.

  He shook his head. “Sweetheart, women use candles to dim the light, to emulate a romantic atmosphere, not to illuminate darkness.”

  “Oh?” I paused, considering, then chuckled as I shook my head. Vicky would be so proud of him. “Missed those womanly lessons while tucked up on the fourth floor, east wing. Room 418.” I said that as a joke, but the moment Zantry's eyes went cold, I regretted saying it. “Sorry, didn't mean to kill the mood,” I murmured and returned to the dumplings, turning off the stove, straightening the countertop and clearing up dirty dishes.

  “You can
turn off the lights. I bet your night vision is as good as mine, if not better,” I said into the silence.

  We ate with the lights on, the TV on low, Frizz in front of it with a plate of ground meat, watching reruns of Dharma and Greg.

  “Do you think he understands it's not real?” I wondered.

  “Why don't you try and explain that to him?”

  I glanced at him, realized he was serious. “I already did,” I confessed with a sheepish smile.

  “Then he does know,” Zantry replied, serious. “People don't give them much credit, but they're exceptionally intelligent creatures. They observe, they learn. And when they need, they exchange. Yours is a seasoned one. Older than a century, younger than two. You can see the awareness in his eyes. You chose well.”

  I glanced at Frizz, his ears pulled back, listening to us, his eyes fixed on Greg's mother. “He chose me.”

  “Oh? I'd like to hear that story.”

  I pushed the empty plate away and picked up the OJ. “How much do you know about me?” I leaned back and waited for him to finish chewing.

  “Tell me. I'd like to hear it from you.”

  I stared at the wall across from me, contemplating how to phrase my next words. “I was twelve when the PSS came knocking at my door. I was taken, kicking and screaming from a home I didn't know then was temporary, sent to the Scientists. I was normal, or as normal as teenagers can be at that age. I didn't have anything extra. I was smart, one of the firsts in my class, but I wasn't exceptional.

  “I was taken to a military base in Elk Grove, an hour away from home that night, where I stayed for a few days before I was flown to Seattle, to the headquarters. I was met by Dr. Maxwell, a smiling, friendly shark. At first I was sure they were terrorists, but with time, I began thinking about the drug cartels, slave rings, prostitution trades. Everything came to mind. Except what they really were. I refused to believe the truth, even when I saw it with my own two eyes.”

  I sipped the juice, not tasting it, my thoughts distant, back to the day I was thrown with the wolf. “I was thirteen when my talons first manifested. I killed my first wolf with them that same day. I was terrified. I saw my very first aura the next day and thought I was hallucinating, that my shock was making me see things. But everyone had them, and a few flashed white sometimes. Rarely were they green, and I could sense their animal forms, I could tell what they changed into. But those were rare, far between.

  “When I was almost a month shy of twenty one, I escaped.” I offered a brittle smile before correcting myself. “Dr. Michael Dean helped me.” At his narrowed look, I took a sip, glanced once at Frizz. “It turned out that there was a contract with some clause about interrupted studies and penalties, and so on. Dr. Dean helped me go, and for every month I was away, there was a three-month penalty clause. Then Remo Drammen came along.”

  Zantry didn't seem surprised, so he must have known this part.

  “He made a bargain with Dr. Dean, gave him Archer, and I was his. But when they rendezvoused in the Low Lands, I managed to surprise Dr. Dean, pushed him against Remo, and they fell on top of Frizz and his band. They were gone in minutes, but I can still hear them at night,” I murmured, the haunting nightmares as real as that night in the Low Lands.

  Zantry took my hand and squeezed in silent comfort. A pleasant, warm hum played through the touch and I squeezed back, enjoying the sensation.

  “I'm sorry about that,” he said, “Why don't you tell me this story later? You can tell me about Leon.”

  “She's part of this story,” I said, putting down the empty glass.

  Immediately he picked up the carton, poured another glass.

  “Thank you.” I left my hand beneath his and picked up the full glass with the other. “Once they were both dead, I wandered the Low Lands in the dark, because I can't conjure light on my own. Eventually, Frizz and his band followed, but I didn't know why.

  “I walked for days, afraid to stop, unable to keep going. Finally, I could see again, as far as my sight could go.”

  At this Zantry frowned, as I knew he would. I hadn't told anyone about this. Logan and Elizabeth both knew I had met Lee and that she'd granted me a boon for taking care of Dr. Dean, but nothing more.

  “When I could no longer go on, I stopped to rest. And that's when Lee showed up, all smiles and friendly advice, telling me to ask Frizz for something, urging me to make a wish. Since he couldn't bring me back here, I gave him and each of his band a name, bid them farewell, then turned to Lee.”

  Understanding dawned in Zantry's eyes, but no recrimination.

  “She granted me a boon for taking care of Dr. Dean, who she said had broken a rule by dragging me through the leeway without permission. She maneuvered me to believe she'd grant me information, had me curious about my father, about being the 'promised one'. So I asked about him.”

  “You made a bargain with her,” Zantry concluded. “She came here today to collect.”

  I lowered my eyes and sipped my drink, letting my silence answer.

  “Ah, Roxanne. What did she ask?”

  I placed the glass down still half full, pulled my hand back from his. The hum lingered for a moment, and I closed my hand to preserve the warmth. “I'm to fulfill my original role. I'm not sure what that entails, though. I'm to meet with Oberon at midnight.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Zantry Akinzo explained the fine rules and art of meeting with a Sidhe royalty. I was glad I'd confided in him. If not, I'd have been killed within the first five minutes after arriving.

  First of all, I was never to address royalty without being addressed first. Drink and food were good as long as I was under the Hospitality Code, and it was considered an insult to refuse to eat or drink then. If Queen Titania made a presence, I was not to kneel and bow, not even if everyone around me did so. To kneel meant I was acknowledging her as my queen, asserting myself under her sovereignty. Instead, I was to stand with my head lowered, until given permission to do otherwise. I was always to give my full attention, but was never to look her straight in the eyes. To do so was to challenge her.

  I was never to lie, but clever evasion was not punishable. There were so many more other instructions, I was afraid I'd forget them when it was vital to remember.

  So many rules, so little time. The acceptable, expected, unaccepted, frowned upon or punishable etiquette and protocol of court life.

  Lee arrived at exactly twelve, not a second more. I know, I was counting down the seconds. The minute the clock turned twelve, there was a quick flash of light and there she stood, dressed in a similar attire to that morning: tight low-riding jeans with high-heel leather boots that reached up to her knees and a close-fitting blouse that changed colors when she moved. Her hair was fastened in a high pony tail, golden threads twined between red locks, reaching past her lower back, even bound.

  She wasted no time whisking us to the Sidhe land. She arrived, gave me a once over, and without touching or coming near, the world flashed and off we went.

  I registered the sounds first. The stream of water tumbling on rocks. The soft music of the breeze among swaying trees. There was the sound of singing birds, a haunting melody sang in chorus, a choreographed symphony. The chattering of small animals. Then came the warmth. The sunlight touched my cheeks, brightening the land.

  And what a land.

  We stood at the edge of a clearing. Tall and lush ancient trees surrounded us – a warm cocoon under their shadows. The vibrant green grass underneath our feet was soft, a carpet of soft dew. Birds of every color and size darted between branches, flew over our heads. They hopped from branch to branch, their multi-colored beaks long and sharp, their tails bushy like that of sheep. Small animals watched from beyond fat tree trunks, brown and white furry things similar to cats with droopy ears and long reptilian-like tails.

  I turned to Lee with delight. “It's beautiful,” I said with heartfelt sincerity.

  Lee nodded in approval, as if my compliment was something I was
obligated to give. Maybe it was and Zantry had just forgotten to mention that. Without a word, she turned and began making her way across the clearing, toward a thicket of trees on the other side, me following behind, looking everywhere, devouring the splendor with hungry eyes.

  It was a lovely, peaceful land. Enchanted. The trees were tall, the smallest no less than fifty to sixty feet, the tallest double that, with round, old bark gnarled with age, some covered with so much moss and lichen, the bark looked green at first glance. The leaves were larger than my torso, dark green and fragrant. It made for a magnificent canopy above, swaying in a slow dance with the soft breeze to reveal glimpses of a vivid blue sky.

  We stepped into the shadows and followed a narrow path. A carpet of old leaves, moss and fir muffled our steps, made our footing slippery. The brown-and-white creatures ambled alongside us, never getting too close. Not knowing if acknowledging them was harmless, I looked everywhere but at them, following Lee's lead. We moved for what seemed like hours, always surrounded by trees in all sides, before we finally broke through.

  A stream filled with wriggly things appeared as we left the woods, the same sound of rushing water I'd been hearing since stepping into the clearing. Ahead, against the horizon and setting sun, stood a splendid, enormous white castle, full of turrets and round-edged towers, arches and sharp angles. The sight was so stunning, enchanted and majestic, it took away my breath. The setting sun, an explosion of dazzling colors, framed the castle, its tall arched windows gleaming, reflecting the land that surrounded it.

  I faltered, awestruck. It felt as if I'd just stepped into another world, a fairy tale.

  I chuckled, and Lee stopped, turning around to glare at me, her eyes colder than I'd ever seen. “You mock the Seelie palace?” she hissed.

  Dangerous.

  My amusement was cut off so abruptly, I might have imagined it. “No – no. It's just that I thought it was so beautiful, I felt like I was caught in a fairy tale.”

  Lee frowned, and I recalled reading somewhere that to call a fee a fairy was to insult one. But Lee let it go. “I suppose that is a compliment I cannot see as such.”