by E. A. Copen
When I heard women go on about babies kicking in the womb, I’d always imagined it sort of like gas bubbles. Uncomfortable pressure just sort of floating around in there. Not a full-on recognizable kick. The skin-tight fabric of the dress rippled, and my hand rose noticeably from the rest of her. Two quick, strong impacts beat against my palm like angry bird wings.
For the first time, it hit me that it was really happening. There was a part of me that wasn’t me, something I’d made. Something right, good, and innocent. New life, untainted by all the evil of the world, without pain and suffering. It didn’t feel possible, yet here I was, touching living proof that it could be done.
Magic can do a lot of things, perhaps necromancy most of all. I could speak to the dead. Hell, I could bring the dead back to life. Magic was the greatest power in the universe. But however powerful I became, no matter how much raw magic I touched, I could never use it to make new life. No magic I knew of could do that. I could. I had. There was a tiny human in the world, alive and unspoiled, because of me.
It was awesome in the truest sense of the word.
And it was terrifying.
My chin trembled even after I pulled my hand away and I had to remind myself to breathe because suddenly my throat was too tight for air.
Odette didn’t look terrified. She was smiling, caressing her stomach as if the child could feel her every touch. Maybe he could. “He likes you,” she cooed.
I tried to swallow, not knowing what to say. Saying nothing would be easier, but awkward. My heart fluttered. I didn’t know if it was panic that gripped me, or excitement. I did know something had kicked my fight or flight response on and I was ready to bolt rather than stand in that room a minute longer. It didn’t make sense. I should’ve wanted to stay, to be a part of everything that was happening. Instead, I wanted to get as far away from it as I could.
I shifted my grip on my staff. “Don’t open the windows,” I said and fled the room.
Chapter Six
Outside, I leaned against the cool stone wall, a hand against my face, trying to calm my ragged breathing and fluttering heart. Sweat gathered on the back of my neck. I felt like I’d just stared death in the face, which was ridiculous. I was a slayer of gods, faerie queens, and ghosts and I was afraid of a baby.
I had to get the hell out of Faerie.
The only way to do that was to find a cure for the ghoul virus ravaging my body, which no one else had ever succeeded in doing. Of course, not everyone had access to all the power and knowledge of Faerie and a capable healer. I just hoped Beth was willing to work with me. I wanted to bust her out of Faerie with me, but unless I found the assassin targeting the princess, I wasn’t even going to have time to think about a cure, let alone work on one.
“Sir?”
I resisted the urge to swing my staff when Declan startled me. “Declan.”
His eyes slid to the tight grip I had on the staff, and he took a step back. “You called for me, sir?”
I blew out a breath. “Yes, I did. I need you to guard this door and not let anyone through except for the princess’ handmaiden.”
He frowned. “Sir, I’m no guard. I can send for one if you’d like.”
“If I wanted a guard, I’d have grabbed one on the way here. I don’t trust the guards. I trust you. Well, mostly. You seem like a good guy. Are you?”
He stumbled over his answer. “Well, I think…maybe I am?”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “This isn’t a test of loyalty, Declan, and I’m not asking you to ride into battle. But if I stand here outside this door waiting for someone to come and kill the princess, I wouldn’t be doing my job as the Summer Knight.”
“Yes, but—”
“Declan,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “Did any of the other Summer Knights do guard duty?”
“Well, no, but that’s why we have guards. I’m just a…helper.”
I pressed my lips together in thought and regarded the kid. He had a good heart, and lots of promise, but zero self-confidence. With a good boost to his ego, he could do well for himself. As he was, avoiding eye contact and stumbling over his words, unsure, he came off more as prey than the predator he had the potential to become. I’d seen enough kids like him to know the beaten dog look when I saw it. Someone had convinced him at one time he wasn’t cut out for greatness, probably repeatedly and violently.
“Tell you what, Declan. A good kid like you needs to be more than a helper. How’s about I make you my squire?”
His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “S-Sir! I’m not worthy of that honor. You are the Summer Knight!”
“Temporarily. And I temporarily need a squire to help out. So? You up for the job?”
He nodded so fast I was surprised he didn’t sprain his neck.
“Good.” I gripped him by the shoulders and walked him back to stand in front of the door. “Your first assignment is to guard this door and make sure no one comes or goes but Odette’s handmaiden. Got it?”
He nodded again. Declan was suddenly so full of determination to guard that door, I had no doubts he’d succeed.
That seen to, I found my way back to the gardens. They were empty of people since everyone else still seemed to be at the feast. I could hear the dull roar of dozens of voices talking all at once through an open window nearby and the clink of glasses.
My stomach growled. Feast in my honor and I barely got to enjoy it. Not that I could’ve eaten the other courses anyway, not with my new vegetarian diet. I’m so treating myself to a nice, juicy steak once I get out of here.
I found the small shaded area where Odette, Roshan, William, and Titania had all been standing. A flowering bush with long branches provided most of the shade. Someone had taken the time to weave the branches full of yellow flowers on one bush with the branches of one bearing blue flowers. The effect created a natural archway.
For some reason, I stopped to look at the flowers and thought of Emma. She’d know what those flowers were. I ran my fingers over the delicate yellow petals and wondered if she was okay. The last time I’d seen her, she had two broken arms. The Archon had tortured her to get my cooperation. I shouldn’t have gone along with it, no matter what he did, but there’s nothing worse in the world than listening to someone else suffer on your behalf. The only thing worse than that was the look in her eyes when I agreed to go with the Archon. Betrayal. Anger. Hurt.
My fist closed over the flower, crumpling it.
Blood still stained the ground where William fell. I knelt to examine it, not sure what I’d find. That’s just what I imagined Emma doing so I repeated the motion. What would she see here that I couldn’t?
The scene played in my head over again. Raw, red energy had torn through the air close enough to my head that it almost hit me. That told me two things. Whomever I was hunting was no guard, knight, or soldier. I was looking for a wizard, and a powerful one. To risk that shot at a distance and not hit me, he had to have excellent precision. Better than me anyway. I couldn’t have made that shot on my best day from right behind where I’d been. This guy, whoever he was, had to be a lot further away if he escaped without being seen.
I stood, studying the tree line and garden walls beyond. Guards patrolled the stone wall. I’d seen them on my way down to the garden, and they stood there now as immovable as statues. They should have seen anyone taking a shot at Odette, yet no one had come forward. If I were a princess-killing wizard, I’d hide behind a veil. That’s probably why they didn’t see anything. But I hadn’t seen anything either when I used my Vision to look over the forest. I didn’t know if the Horseman powers were able to see through magic veils or not, but I filed that information away for later.
What would Emma do? I put my hands on my hips and walked a circle around the crime scene before deciding to try and trace the source of the shot. Since I hadn’t seen where it had come from, that wouldn’t be easy, but I could guess the direction and work from there. The spell hadn’t arced or fractured like lightning when
it fired, which meant it was safe to assume it’d been thrown in a straight line. With that in mind and the fact that the wizard in question would’ve had to keep a line of sight open, I started walking.
Trees, flowers, and bushes repeated themselves in no discernable pattern. The flowers and bushes wouldn’t have provided any decent shelter or a good vantage point, so I focused my attention on the trees. Most of the trees in the Summer Gardens were ancient-looking giants whose lowest branches were far too high for someone to reach even standing on someone else’s back. A desperate man could still climb up, but he’d quickly find his view obscured by thick green foliage. No tree fit the bill either.
I was about to turn around and go back to the bloodstain on the ground when something vibrated through the staff in my hand. Runes lit up bright green, pulsing like a slow heartbeat. I shifted my grip to get a better look. When I brought the staff closer to my face, the bright light dimmed, and the pulsing stopped. Curious, I stretched the staff out horizontally, and it lit up again, pulsing faster. Clearly, the staff was sensing something I couldn’t.
I stepped forward, sweeping the staff left to right and following the faster-paced glow. After a few paces, I found myself standing in a small clearing with trees on every side but the way I’d come. Stretching out in every direction were younger trees, their branches to small and weak to have supported any weight. The staff passed through the center of the clearing, and the flashing lights shifted from blinking viridian to blazing carmine. Smoke erupted from the end of the staff, pouring out so heavy I pulled it back to see if it had caught fire. It hadn’t, but I was confident I’d found something in that clearing, even if I couldn’t see it with my naked eye.
“Nice evening for a walk.”
I spun around, smoking staff outstretched, and found myself staring down an unfamiliar face. He was tall and muscular with a chiseled jaw and hard brown eyes. Unlike most of the fae I’d seen around, his clothing didn’t consist of the fine silks and cotton finery. Instead, he wore a sleeveless tunic that looked as if it’d been fashioned from materials found in the garden. Moss and bits of bark gave it a rough, rustic look. It was low cut enough to reveal that muscular appearance carried through to the rest of him. His pants were thick leaves sewn together in an overlapping scale pattern. Wrapped around his wrists and ankles were thick grapevines. Sticks jutted up from behind each ear like horns. The rough-and-tumble foresty guy behind me didn’t match the soft voice I’d heard, so I glanced around, expecting to find someone else.
He focused on the smoking tip of the staff. “Please refrain from setting my trees on fire, Sir Knight.”
I lifted the staff away from him, surprised to find that was indeed his voice. “Your trees?”
He nodded. “I speak for the trees.”
“For the…” A nymph, I realized.
Nymphs were usually represented in literature as minor nature goddesses. Goddesses because they were almost always female. Every rock and bush had their own nymph in Greek myth, but then the Greeks were rather fond of their gods.
If this big fella spoke for the trees, he was a specific type of nymph, probably a Dryad of some sort. There were half a dozen sub-types of Dryads too based on the tree type they were associated with. I didn’t know enough about trees to guess what kind of grove I stood in just by looking at them, but a quick glance at the fallen leaves on the ground gave me some idea. Oak.
“You’re a Dryad,” I said. “Thought you guys were supposed to be shy.”
He watched me with dark, intelligent eyes. “You are not the Summer Knight, and yet you have his staff. Where is William?”
“Healing quietly somewhere in the castle, I think,” I said with a shrug. At least, I hoped he was healing and not dying. If he died, I might get stuck with the Summer Knight gig longer than I wanted. “Someone took a shot at him. I think he was standing in your little grove when he fired the shot.”
Wind whispered through the tree leaves, drawing the Dryad’s attention. He watched the leaves rustle against each other, brows knitted in concern.
He looked like he might either bolt or get irritated any minute, so I figured the best thing to do was engage him in conversation. “So, what’s your name, big guy?”
The Dryad lowered his head slowly. “Athdar.”
“Hi, Athdar. My name is—”
“You need to leave,” he said suddenly, frowning. “There’s nothing for you here. Don’t come again.” He turned and took a step before stopping and turning to say over his shoulder, “No fire in the garden.”
Athdar stormed into the thick line of trees ahead. I rushed after him, pushing my way through some low hanging branches. But when I got to the other side, all I found waiting for me were more trees. Athdar had disappeared.
Chapter Seven
The staff didn’t light up again, so I abandoned my search through the groves and returned to the scene of the crime where I didn’t find anything new. I wanted to ask Athdar if he or his trees had seen anything, but he’d disappeared too quick for me to go after him. When I tried to go deeper into the oak grove, I found the tree trunks grew too close together, their branches too thick and full for me to pass. The trees stood as an impassable barrier with no clear way through.
I thought about that on my way back to the castle and about the grove itself. The staff had led me there, but I had no idea why. Holding it in my hands, I tried to force my will into the hunk of carved wood to see if I could get the same reaction again, but it remained just a dead stick in my hands just like my last staff. I’d have to ask the queen about it in the morning.
The feast had died down when I made it back inside with people departing in pairs to go off into the other wings of the castle. Lovers moved arm in arm, stopping to kiss in the shadows. They pulled away from each other at my approach. I nodded to them and moved on toward the banquet hall.
Queen Titania was still at the high table, though her dishes had long ago been cleared away. The cat-man was at her side with a saucer of cream in front of him. He grinned at me, flashing cat-like fangs, and picked up the saucer to slurp it down. Titania lifted an eyebrow as I stepped up to the dais, reminding me that there was protocol to follow. I rolled my eyes and attempted a bow, nearly falling flat on my face.
The queen took up her goblet. “Graceful you are not, my knight.”
“Temporary knight,” I reminded her. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping I could check in on William. Maybe examine his injury in case there’s a clue.”
She shrugged. The motion made her loose sleeves slip further down her arms, revealing more sun-bronzed skin. “I don’t see why you’re coming to me about it. I’ve given you leave to pursue this as you see fit. If you want to see him, go see him.”
My eyes slid to the cat-man who was now licking the back of his hand and rubbing it on his ear. Creepy. “I would, except I don’t know where he is.”
Titania turned to eye the cat-man. “Kellas, see that my knight finds his way to the infirmary.”
“With great pleasure.” His eyes flashed in the light as he pushed his chair back and stood. He grabbed the black cloak at his back and wrapped it tighter to himself. “Come, Sir Knight. This way.”
I didn’t trust Kellas the cat-man as far as I could kick him. In my experience, cats were dicks. Cat men seemed like they’d be more so, and Kellas was too amused by everything I said or did. He always looked like he was aware of some joke no one else knew about. Like I said, cats are dicks. But the queen had given an order, and I figured he’d behave himself as long as I was acting in an official capacity. I still didn’t want him at my back, so I let him take the lead.
“So, Sir Knight,” he said as we walked down the hall in a direction I hadn’t been yet, “you must tell me what it’s like.”
I frowned at him and slowed to keep from overtaking his leisurely pace. “What what’s like?”
“Souls. Holding them in your hand. The life essence of a person. Does it burn you?” He licked his lips
.
“No, it doesn’t burn. Feels sort of like holding a bubble, only more substantial.”
He made a sound I took to be disapproval.
I figured if we were going to play twenty questions, I’d play right back with him. “So you turn into a cat and drink milk from a saucer. What’s your theory on laser pointers? What is the source of the mysterious red dot?”
He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t turn into a cat. I turn into a man when it suits me. And I know nothing of this red dot of which you speak. I should like to see it.”
“Bet you would. You’re what to Queen Titania exactly? Her pet? Her guardian?”
He made a purring sound that made me cringe. It was entirely too deep for a normal cat and was really weird to hear it coming out of a man. “Yes, and more. Her lover when that’s what she requires. Her friend. Confidant.”
“Her consort.”
“Just so.” He smoothed his hands over the silk clothes. “For some years yet, anyway. Then I will return home to the Shadow Court.”
I stopped and turned to face Kellas. “You’re a Shadow fae?”
He grinned. “I am a Cat Sìth. Of course I am.”
“But I thought Summer and Shadow were enemies?”
Kellas inclined his head. “The courts are often at war.”
“And no one thinks it’s a security risk to have the queen curling up with more evil Puss-in-Boots every night? You don’t think that’s a conflict of interests? Or hell, treason?”
“Why do you think she made me her consort, Sir Knight? To cement the last peace. One can only make peace with their enemies after all.”
“But it doesn’t bother you?” I asked. “You’re sleeping with a woman whose armies are slaying your people by the hundreds.”
Kellas made a hacking sound. It was only after it continued for a few moments and he doubled over that I realized he was laughing. “Oh, no. Not at all. That’s how humans fight wars, Sir Knight. There’s no death in Faerie. Not yet anyway. Simply killing a superior number of your enemies doesn’t work when we fae can’t die here.”
