by Ann Gimpel
After telling everyone we’d have a general staff meeting at four the next afternoon, I hotfooted it back upstairs. Dariyah was waiting—and her cat. I was annoyed with Oberon for dragging the harmless creature into his perpetual schemes. What Aedan had imparted about the unicorns didn’t bode well, either. Always a bit on the skittish side, they usually got along with each other.
How accidental had the goring been? According to Aedan, no one had actually seen it happen beyond the two unicorns involved. One was dead from a direct hit to her magical center. The other swore up and down it hadn’t happened on purpose. She’d liked Rona, was devastated she was dead, and stood willing to make amends as needed.
There had to be more to it. Had they squabbled over a male? Over something else? I’d asked Aedan about other wounds. He’d said there weren’t any, but unicorns heal so quickly if you’re not actually looking at a laceration when it happens, you won’t see a thing.
Eh, maybe I was making too much of a freak occurrence. Except it didn’t feel that way. I’ve always had solid instincts, so I’d do well to heed my guts, and they screamed foul play. It appeared to be the way Dariyah functioned as well. How else would she have put a few unrelated bits together and come up with her theory about Oberon’s power fading?
It was a brilliant deduction. Part of me hoped it was true, but a much bigger part didn’t. Faery needed her liege. None of the rest of us who stood in line for the throne would do. Not at all. Oberon might be an ass, but he was our ass. I cringed at the thought and at all the times I should have stood up to him but had deferred.
At the time, I’d told myself it was to keep the peace, but my motivation had been far more self-serving. If I’d been too antagonistic, he’d have clipped the strands that bound me to the chain of succession. I’d seen it happen before. The dirty truth was it was how I’d moved to the head of the line. Back in the day, Titania had made a habit of challenging him. I didn’t recall exactly when she’d faded from center stage, but I should have spoken up, taken her side since she was often right, and checked on her after she went missing.
As I considered it, I hadn’t actually laid eyes on her for maybe fifty years. She’d bounced in and out of Faery after Oberon left, but her brief visits had ceased. Because they’d been so rare, I barely noticed their absence—until years had passed. Given my newfound information about Oberon, the change in Titania’s pattern of dropping in worried me. Was she all right? I’d ask Aedan and those on the court I knew well, crafting subtle questions regarding her whereabouts. Anything more overt would add fuel to a pot that already threatened to boil over.
I pushed open the door to my office. Dariyah smiled up at me from her spot on the sofa. The cat had his snout in an empty tuna can. It rattled when he licked oil out of the bottom.
“Did you have enough to eat?” I asked. “I can always call down to the kitchen and have them send something hot up here.”
“I’m fine,” she replied and got to her feet. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Almost.” Settling at the desk, I closed down the electronics, sealing them with encryption software. As I worked, I said, “I’ve been considering your theory about Oberon. It could explain why Faery is struggling.”
“Exactly the conclusion I came up with.” She nodded my way. “Mind if I ask a question?”
“Fire away.”
“Mother said Oberon and Titania were linked to both Faery and all its inhabitants. What happened to that after they left?”
I looked up. “One transferred to me, the other didn’t.”
“I’m guessing the one that didn’t was the land itself.” She arched a red brow.
“You’d have guessed right. When I started to sense the strands binding me to individuals and animals, I suspected I’d never see Oberon again. Couldn’t figure out why the land didn’t transition to me as well.”
“Because Oberon never released it.” She pursed her mouth into a tight line and went on. “He’s nothing if not mobile. For all we know, he sneaks back into Faery and visits her behind everyone’s backs.”
I got to my feet. I had to stop making excuses for Oberon, whitewashing everything he did. “He’s certainly capable of something along those lines,” I agreed, disgusted with my level of restraint. If he was really doing that, it was horrendous because it hamstrung the land between the absent monarch and who she should be bonded with.
“Can you think of any other reason?” Dariyah persisted.
With her hands on her hips and her red hair swirling around her, she was a vision of loveliness. Nothing soft about her, though. Her beauty was tempered with an iron will. Guts and determination had carried her through what must have been a solitary existence offering scant emotional support.
“Not really,” I replied. “Where do you think he might be?”
She scooped the cat into her arms. He growled, hackles raised, no doubt irritated at being separated from the tuna can. “It’s a good question.” She tilted her head to one side, brows drawn together in a thoughtful expression. “This might be playing dirty, but I say we return to my flat. He’s bound to have posted spies after what I did to the three who were waiting for me earlier.”
I grinned. “We grab one—or more—and convince them spying on you is a very bad idea.”
“You’ve been reading my mail, honey.” She stroked the cat to sooth him.
“What are you going to do with him?” I gestured at the cat.
“I’ll set him free once I’m home. He’s good at taking care of himself. I’m fairly certain he won’t let anyone else get hold of him. When I stopped by my place earlier, he was apprehensive about the mages he sensed lurking outside. In his kitty mind, he saw them as dark and threatening.”
“Good for him. He has solid instincts. Ready?” I locked my phone and tablet in my desk from long habit. Electronics didn’t fare well in Faery. Something about the energy scrambled their innards.
Dariyah nodded. “At some point, hopefully tomorrow, I need to find another spot to call home. Midnight and I can’t stay where we are.”
“Would you like help?”
She narrowed her eyes my way. “Maybe. Thanks for the offer. I’m used to flying solo.”
“I won’t be overbearing. Promise. If you need assistance, let me know. Your problems are mostly my fault, and—”
“Bullcrap. I knew what I was getting into when I signed that contract with Oberon.”
I’d been building a transport spell, but I stopped for two reasons. First off, I had no idea where she lived. But the second was she’d piqued my curiosity. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Knowing you risked discovery, why’d you go to work for Oberon? Surely, there were other jobs through this central registry place.”
Dariyah still cradled the cat against her. He’d settled in and crawled up her body until he was draped around her shoulders. “Faery exerts a pull. I’m far from immune to its power and magic. My Witch glamour is only a costume; it doesn’t change who I am.”
Her expression, resolute and sad, tore at me. Of course she’d long for Faery. It was mother to us all. Yearning for a land that would perpetually be closed to her must have shaped an indominable will.
“Do not say anything.” She inserted spaces between the words. “I don’t require your pity.”
“I wasn’t about to offer any.” My tone was gruffer than I’d meant it to be. “I need to know where we’re going.”
“No you don’t because I’ll take us.”
Power danced around her in visible bands of light that reminded me of an arcane kaleidoscope. My office vanished, replaced by a rather barren room permeated with her wonderful scents. Cinnamon, vanilla, and the sweet musk of her power. Midnight wriggled out of her arms and took off like a shot.
“He has his own routes in and out of here,” Dariyah explained. “I’ve never located them, but then I never tried very hard, either.”
“Maybe he has more magic that you give him credit for.
” Speaking of magic, I honed a strand and sent it zinging outward, searching for energies other than human.
“They’re out there,” Dariyah growled. “Exactly like I thought they’d be. Oberon’s ego is too big to just walk away after I told him to go fuck himself.”
I reeled in my casting. “I count three.”
“Me too. Shall we? There shouldn’t be much in our way this time of night. Earlier, I had to manage throngs of mortals and cars.”
“How?” I angled a pointed look her way.
She shrugged. “A stop-time spell. It didn’t cover a large enough area to truly conceal my actions, but it paralyzed the mages too, so I didn’t have to keep it in place for very long.”
I whistled. Her casual mention of magic that only the extremely powerful could command was a potent reminder of her skill.
“Eh. Don’t offer up too much credit.” Dariyah grinned and beckoned as we let ourselves out a small door off the kitchen.
I needed to monitor my thoughts since she was privy to most of them. I had no idea if it was a conscious effort on her part, or if her magic spilled over making certain she was well-informed about everyone in her immediate circle. Probably the latter. She’d been on her own forever and would have developed the habit of being vigilant.
We glided across an empty street, revealing ourselves at the last possible moment, and came face to face with three Fae. I swallowed shock. “You’re supposed to be in the Dreaming,” I sputtered, looking from one to the other. Two men and a woman, I remembered them well.
“We grew bored…Regent.” A male with dark hair regarded me out of amber eyes. Garbed in U.S. trash-modern like the other two, he wore denim pants and a cotton shirt with snaps rather than buttons. Cowboy boots were the final touch; they made him fit right in in northern Nevada.
“Bored, huh?” I stopped there.
“You were wondering where Oberon got his underlings from. I guess that little puzzle’s been solved.” Dariyah spoke slowly, deliberately, taunting the Fae.
It was unusual—but not unheard of—for mages to leave the Dreaming after a long tenure there. A few of us bounced in and out as if it were a two-dollar whorehouse. Some checked in for a respite, never intending to remain, but this batch had been gone since maybe the 1700s. I dropped a truth net over the Fae. “What did he offer you?” I demanded, certain Oberon must have done something to sweeten the pie.
“A chance to make a difference.” The woman tilted her chin at a defiant angle. Violet hair spilled around her shoulders.
“By subverting the natural order of Faery?” I stared at her and made a good-faith effort to hang on to my temper. It was a losing battle.
“You don’t understand,” the dark-haired man said.
“But you will,” the woman chimed in.
I’d had enough of riddles and sanctimonious tidbits. I had a goddamned link to every other living creature in Faery. Last I checked, it was an all-or-none phenomenon. Rather like the land. Switching things up, I altered my truth casting and laced coercion into it.
“You will tell me where Oberon is.” I gripped the man’s upper arm plenty tight enough to hurt. He writhed in my grip and bared his teeth at me.
Something flickered at the corner of my eye. A wicked-looking serrated blade made of iridescent metal was gripped in Dariyah’s hand. She pricked the point into the woman’s neck.
“Let her go!” the other man shouted and jumped at Dariyah. Jumped and splatted against a barrier that sent him flying backward through the air, silver hair swishing every which way.
“Nice try.” Dariyah exerted pressure on the blade until a trickle of blood ran down the woman’s neck. I’d been trying to remember her name, but it escaped me. Like the other two, she’d abandoned Faery for the Dreaming centuries before. Immortality dragged on many, made it impossible for them to keep on keeping on. She’d traded one immortal life for another far sooner than most, which made me intensely curious just what inducements Oberon had come up with.
Searing pain shot up my arm. The fellow I was hanging on to had sunk his teeth into my wrist. I punched him in the face, gratified to hear the thwack of bones breaking in his cheeks. Following up on my advantage, I drove him to the ground and straddled him.
“Where is Oberon? What did you mean about making a difference?” I punched him again. Blood gushed from his nose, but I felt him summon healing threads to put himself back together. I reached for the spot I should be linked to him—not there. Trying again in a different location, I came up with the same result.
How had Oberon managed the impossible? Somehow he’d separated some of Faery’s residents from my hold on them.
“Got it,” Dariyah crowed. “Let’s go.”
“Got what?” The woman with blood sheeting down her neck sounded dazed.
“The information we need.” Dariyah released the hold she’d had on the Fae—a magical one because she hadn’t been touching her. The Fae crumpled to the ground and rolled to her knees, never taking her gaze from Dariyah.
“Pah. You have nothing,” she retorted. “Witches can’t read minds.”
“This one can.” Dariyah offered a saccharine smile.
The Fae who’d ended up on his ass raced forward and cradled the kneeling female in his arms. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Stop fussing over me.” Batting him away, she got her feet under her and stood.
“You will talk,” I growled at the Fae trapped between my legs. “If you do not, I will hunt you down in the Dreaming and drag you before the court to face justice.”
“I’ve done naught wrong,” he protested, his words thick and slurred.
“That’s for the court to determine.”
“Pfft. A bunch of misfits. We are the beginnings of a new race, a pure one,” he informed me.
“Shut up!” the woman squealed.
I’d heard enough. Oberon had planted plenty of seeds about establishing a magical master race, one unsullied by any other type of magic-wielder. He’d always thought Faery should be limited to Fae, and all its other inhabitants booted out to fend for themselves.
“We need to go,” Dariyah said.
I jumped upright and motioned her close while eying the Fae who’d all drawn near one another. The other two had dragged the one I’d injured to his feet. “You will remain here for the next hour,” I informed them.
“We don’t report to you,” the silver-haired man said.
“In this instance, you do,” I told him and dropped the casting I’d been working on over all three of them. It clicked into place, staves thickening as they set up.
Dariyah ran her hands over my impromptu prison, strengthening my efforts. “Won’t hold them forever,” she said, “but we don’t require forever.”
“What are you?” the woman demanded.
“She can’t be a Witch,” the Fae with the ruined face mumbled.
“You’ve grown soft and weak,” Dariyah mocked them. “So out of practice from lolling around in the Dreaming you’ve forgotten what real power looks like.”
A cloud scented with herbs and wildflowers descended as she swept us into a travel spell. “Do you really know where Oberon is?” I asked.
“I know where he was when we left,” she replied. “He maintains a network for his minions so they can always find him if they have to. Besides, I’m familiar with many of his usual haunts.”
I’d been inside the one Fae’s mind. How had I missed the network? I set my mouth in a tense line. “Him poaching from the Dreaming is disturbing.”
“Yeah, it’s not good at all,” Dariyah agreed. “We may have clipped their wings in terms of teleporting, but they can ping Oberon through the same ingenious mechanism that allowed me to pin down a location for him. Hang on, almost there.”
“He won’t be,” I said dully.
“You can’t know that.”
“Aye, I can and do. He’s not ready to face me, or I’d already have gone rounds with him.”
The splash
of water over rocks was accompanied by rich pine smells as a forest shaped up around us. My nostrils twitched. Oberon had been in this spot, and not very long ago. True to my prediction, though, the place was deserted. A smoldering fire in the middle of a small rock circle was the only indication anyone had been here recently.
“What was that master magical race crap?” Dariyah paced in a tight circle, clearly irritated our prey had flown the coop.
Not surprised by Oberon’s abrupt departure, I turned to her. “He believes Faery should only succor the Fae, but our compact with the land includes all varieties of magic wielders. Not that we’ve ever had many shifters or Witches other than passing through, but we’ve always provided a home for any mage wishing to settle there.”
“So he grew tired of waiting for a perfect world?” Dariyah angled her head to one side.
“Maybe so.”
“Any idea what his strategy is?” she asked.
“Aye. He’s letting Faery implode, so he can begin anew and craft the kind of realm he’s always wanted. The land must know. It has to be why she’s pitching fits.”
“We have to stop him.”
The sight of her features, rigid with determination, touched me. I dropped my hands onto her shoulders. “Quite a display of loyalty to a land you’ve never seen, one that forced you into exile.”
She shrugged out from under my grasp. “It’s hard to miss something I’ve never had, but I do know right from wrong. We cannot let him get away with subverting Faery, making it into something it was never meant to be.”
Her words had a sobering effect, reminding me the land might rebel, casting all of Oberon’s careful planning asunder. Now that I knew more, it would be worth trying to talk with her again.
Dariyah had perched on a flat rock and was leaning toward the dregs of the fire, hands extended to catch its residual warmth. “What do you want to do next?”
I sank to a crouch next to her. “I have to return to Faery.”
