by E. A. Copen
“It’s settled then.” Remy stood and tugged at her shirt. “You’ll hold court, and we’ll handle security.”
Finn cleared his throat. “I’ll handle security. No offense, Highness. I know you can handle yourself.”
“Damn right, I can.” Remy made a fist.
“But you and your dad have something in common.” He folded his hands and leaned forward. “The word subtle is not in your vocabulary when it comes to a confrontation. I’m not emotionally invested in Foxglove living or dying. Therefore, I can make choices neither of you can. I’m the best candidate. If you’re out there, you’ll just get in my way.”
Remy went to pick up her sword from where it fell. “No one is killing Foxglove.”
“If I have to choose between his life and the lives of others, he loses every time,” Finn continued. “Bringing him in alive is no longer essential to the plan. We have a necromancer.”
Remy focused her heavy gaze on me.
I sighed. “Disable only. Don’t kill.”
“You’re no fun,” Finn grumbled standing.
Remy hugged me and whispered, “Thank you.”
I squeezed her back. I’d forgotten how good it felt to hug my little girl. When she stepped back, I had to clear the tightness from my throat. “Give me a few hours to get everyone together, then meet me at Paula’s. In the meantime, the last thing we need is for him to decide to come after you. I know he was in bad shape, but Foxglove’s a quick healer. With Mask in the driver’s seat, there’s no telling what he’ll do. You two lay low until then, understand?”
Finn grinned at Remy and wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
“Well, get some new ones. That’s not happening, not in my kingdom. Not with my daughter.”
She rolled her eyes. “Father…”
“No buts.” I shrugged on my jacket and pointed to my eyes before pointing at Finn. “Behave. I mean it. Don’t forget who you’re dealing with.” I jerked open the door and held it for them.
Finn waved his hands. “All right, all right. Geez. Who pissed in your Lucky Charms, old man?”
I watched them walk down the sidewalk to a pair of motorcycles. They affixed their helmets and took off. I sighed. At least he had the sense to wear a helmet. And I was uncomfortable with Foxglove flirting with her. I didn’t know how good I had it back then.
I shut the door and walked back to my desk to pick up the phone. “Hello, Adelard? I need your help.”
Chapter Four
I showed up to Paula’s early to order a burger, fries, and a cold one. While she worked to put together my meal, I watched the news replay footage of the ribbon-cutting ceremony at the new water treatment plant. The mayor’s office had brought in some guy from Indiana to run the thing, and he gave a long speech about the importance of conservation and access to clean water. All stuff everyone had heard before.
“You know what that new treatment plant is going to mean for me?” Paula grumbled, sliding a plate onto the bar in front of me. “Bills. More bills. Who voted for that new multi-million-dollar heap of crap anyway? I sure didn’t.”
“Some politician somewhere. We elect them, pay our taxes, and they get to decide what to do with it. That’s kind of how government works.” I stood and grabbed the ketchup bottle from the other side of the bar, drawing a warning glare from Paula. “Speaking of government, as the resident Shadow fae, how come you didn’t tell me about the change in leadership back home?”
“New Orleans is my home, Laz.”
“You know what I meant.” I smothered the fries in ketchup and took a bite of the burger. Paula might’ve been heartless, and overcharge for her beer, but she made a hell of a sandwich, especially when she was mad.
“Didn’t know,” Paula said. “No news has come out of Faerie in a long time. This business with the blight explains why.”
“You have thoughts on your new king?”
She shrugged and picked up a glass to polish. “So long as he pays his tab and doesn’t pick any fights, we’ll be all right.”
“Nonsense, nonsense.” The little man that slid onto the stool next to me had a long, beak-like nose and wispy strands of scraggly white hair. If not for being an impeccable dresser, I’d be tempted to call him ugly, but Adelard still somehow managed to wear every suit he put on well. He pounded a palm on the bar twice. “They’re saying he wielded all three Speaking Stones. As if he’s some sort of hero. Bah! He’s the bastard offspring of a mad queen and an incubus with all the ego of both and none of the charm. If you ask me, I’d say this King Finnegan is trouble, both for Shadow and Faerie.”
I twisted the cap off my beer. “They probably said the same thing about me when I formed this court, though.”
Adelard snorted. “I do say the same about you. Which is why I don’t understand why you appointed me your advisor. Who wants an advisor who hates him?”
“You don’t hate me, Adelard. You’re critical of me. There’s a difference, and that’s exactly why I gave you the job. If I screw up, I know I can count on you to tell me.”
“Well,” said the goblin as Paula slid him a tankard of ale, “you missed a spot shaving this morning, and your ugly car is crooked in the space.”
I sighed and turned back to my burger. “Let’s try to limit it to kingdom policy, Adelard.”
The door to the bar opened. Paula froze. Adelard twisted around on his stool. The whole bar stilled, becoming so quiet you could hear the grease bubbling in the fryer.
I turned around on my stool to see Remy had walked in. She was still wearing the same get-up as earlier—a plain t-shirt, jeans, and a green bomber jacket, though she’d added an accessory, one of the charged crystal chokers I sold in the shop. I hadn’t given it to her, so where…
Dammit, Finn. I clenched a fist. He must’ve grabbed it when I wasn’t looking. King or no king, when I caught up with him, I was going to have to teach him not to shoplift from me.
Remy stopped and looked around, frowning. Everyone had dropped what they were doing to stare at her. The quiet suddenly lifted, and everyone got back to what they were doing. Satisfied, Remy started toward me.
Between Remy and I sat a couple of troublemakers, dwarves heavy into their cups. On a regular night, they were fun to be around; Dwarves knew all the best drinking games. But Ulmir tended to get a little grabby with the female clientele. He was harmless most of the time since he knew better than to mess with the regulars. Newcomers were a different story.
I started to stand up, ready to intervene, as soon as I realized her path would take her right past him.
Ulmir beat me to it. He pushed out his chair, blocking her path, then stood up so that she couldn’t go anywhere without sliding past him. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Her eyelid twitched. “Step aside.”
He raised his hands. “No problem, baby.”
Remy shoved past him. I stopped holding my breath, thinking the worst was over. I should’ve known better.
Ulmir let out a low whistle. “Damn. Anybody got a shovel? ‘Cause I am digging that ass.”
Remy stopped walking. The heel of her shoe scraped lightly against the floor as she turned back around. I couldn’t see her face, but I could see Ulmir’s, and he paled. Impressive, considering he was a pale ginger to begin with.
“That’s my line.” A small crowd parted to reveal Finn sitting on the edge of a pool table, long legs dangling. He flipped an obsidian dagger into the air and hopped down before catching it between two fingers.
“Who’re you?” Ulmir snarled.
“Someone you don’t want to mess with, Ulmir,” I called and walked over to put my hands on Remy’s shoulders. “And I would think twice about catcalling my daughter again.”
He must’ve been five cups of ale in, but Ulmir sobered quickly. He raised his hands in surrender and slinked back to his seat.
Remy shrugged my hands off her shoulders. “This is where you hold court? Smells like stale beer and old grease in here.”
/> “Part of the charm.” I ushered her to the bar and pretended to dust off the seat on the other side of me.
She frowned but sat anyway. “No wonder no one takes your court seriously.”
Finn stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled up to sit next to her. “I don’t know. I kind of like it. Plenty of shadows and half the customers are armed. One way in, which means going past a bunch of drunkards looking for a fight, and two ways out, one of which is through a padlocked and spelled back door. Easy to get in. Not so easy to get out.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Were you casing the place?”
He shrugged. “No one better than a thief to assess risk. I see things you don’t.”
“At least if something goes missing, I’ll know who to talk to.” Paula tossed her towel over her shoulder and leaned on the bar. “What’ll you have? And don’t say Faerie wine. I don’t keep it in stock anymore.”
Finn raised a finger and started to order, but I cut him off. “Finn’s not drinking tonight. He’s running security. In fact, shouldn’t you be out there right now?”
He frowned at me. “I thought I’d at least have a drink first while I assessed security inside. There are more ways into this bar than through the doors, you know.”
I gestured to the door with a thumb. “Work now, drink later.”
Finn smirked, turned to Paula and said, “One beer to go.”
Paula picked up a beer bottle, popped the top, and handed it to him.
“Just whose side are you on, Paula?” I said while Finn saluted her and walked off.
“The side that makes me three bucks. What? You thought I’d let him drink for free? Over my dead body.”
Adelard pushed away his glass. “Looks like everyone’s here except Foxglove.”
“He’ll show. He has to.” I stood up and cleared my throat. “Attention everyone. Attention. I know it’s been a while since we had court, so thank you all for coming.”
Adelard tapped my arm and passed me a note to read aloud.
I sighed. “To the owner of the white Silverado, you left your lights on.”
One guy in the back got up and hurried out the front door.
“Good,” I said, tossing the note over my shoulder. “Anybody else got any announcements?”
“I’ve got a complaint.” One of the dwarves drinking with Ulmir raised his hand. Brundy, I thought his name was. He stood and adjusted his vest when I gestured to him, giving him the floor. “Well, I won’t name names, but a certain elf borrowed my lawn mower last month and still hasn’t returned it. Normally, under dwarven law, I’d be entitled to compensation.”
“I gave you your stupid mower back, you creep,” growled a skinny guy near the pool tables.
“Did not.”
“Did so!”
“Did not!”
I rubbed my forehead. “Guys, come on.”
“Is it always like this?” Remy asked beside me.
“No. Usually, there are a lot more complaints.”
She crossed her arms. “Court isn’t for handling complaints. That’s what petitions are for.”
“Petitions?” I lifted my head from my hands and blinked at her.
Remy gave me an appraising look, one that told me her respect for her old man was quickly fading. I had to get things back under control or I’d lose it completely.
“Brundy, is it?” I spoke loud enough to cut off his argument with the elf, which was quickly getting heated.
The dwarf nodded.
“Well, Brundy, if you have a problem that regular law enforcement—or the neighborhood watch—can handle, I suggest you bring it up with them and stop wasting my time. I know it’s been a while, everyone, but I’m sure you all remember that it isn’t my job to settle your petty disputes. Now sit down, Brundy.”
Brundy slowly sank into his chair. The bar remained completely silent, patrons suddenly on edge at the serious tone of voice I’d used.
I coughed into my hand once. “Summer has fallen. So has Winter and we assume the High Court too, though no one seems to know for sure.”
A panicked murmur swept through the crowd in a wave. Chair legs scraped across the floor as several people rose to their feet and a verbal sparring match broke out near the door.
“My family!” someone cried. “What about my family?”
“What do you mean fallen?”
“What about our glamour? How will we get more? I can’t work without glamour!”
Remy uncrossed her arms and stepped forward. “The creatures who defeated our armies aren’t fae. They’re much older, far more dangerous. Their leader is a manipulative monster capable of dominating your mind, twisting your will, turning even the strongest of you into nothing more than a puppet to do his bidding. No one is safe. I’d say you have more important things to worry about than glamour.”
Ulmir stood. “No offense, lady, but that’s not our problem. When I left Faerie, I chose not to be a part of your corrupt courts. Faerie turned its back on us, so we turned our backs on it.”
The other dwarves at the table banged their cups and shouted in agreement.
“I know what you want,” Ulmir continued. “You want us to line up and sign up to fight to free Faerie from whatever asshole took it over. Well, I’m done fighting other people’s wars.”
“It’s not someone else’s war,” I said. “It’s our war. Mask, that monster she’s talking about? He’s already infiltrated our court, taken my knight. If that’s not an act of war, I don’t know what is.”
Ulmir looked around the room and wiped the back of his hand over his mustache. “I like you, King Lazarus, and I like this court and this bar. But I don’t like any of those things enough to die for ‘em. Your Knight, your problem. We didn’t sign up to fight.” He jabbed his thumbs into his chest.
“Coward!” Adelard climbed up to stand on his stool. “If you’re not willing to fight for your home, then what good are you? The Court of Miracles has no use for big talkers afraid of their own shadow!”
“What’d you say to me?” Ulmir took a step forward before one of his buddies wisely held him back.
“I’m not asking for you to fight,” I shouted above the murmurs. “I swore to you I’d never demand you do more than reasonably necessary.”
“Father?” Remy turned to me, her brow creased with concern.
“If all the armies in all of Faerie couldn’t stop Mask, then my ragtag, road-weary court won’t stand a chance.” I gestured around the room. “I promised you my help, Remy, and you’ll get it, but I didn’t promise you the people of my court. If we’re going to beat Mask, we’ll do it without risking any unnecessary lives.”
The window in the front of the bar suddenly shattered and two bloody forms rolled onto the pool table sitting in front of it. Foxglove pinned Finn to the table and delivered a perfect right hook to Finn’s jaw, then another. And another. The bouncer tried to grab Foxglove and pull him off, but he was no match. Foxglove grabbed a cue stick and cracked it against the bouncer’s head, breaking it in two. Turning away from Finn turned out to be a mistake. Finn grabbed the eight ball and smashed it into the side of Foxglove’s head. To his credit, Foxglove stayed on his feet until Finn landed another punch to his gut and bashed the pool ball into the back of Foxglove’s skull using both hands. Foxglove’s chin hit the pool table, and it was lights out.
Just to make sure, Finn kicked him to the floor, then stood drawing a fist against his lower lip. He spat a mouthful of blood on the floor before swaying in place. “See? I can work and drink.” He went to take another step and fell to the floor with even less grace than Foxglove.
Remy ran across the room and knelt beside Foxglove. “He’s alive.”
“Me too.” Finn stayed face down on the floor and offered a thumbs up.
“Everyone, clear out,” I shouted and crossed the room. “Let’s get something to tie him up. Paula—”
“I’ll get the plastic and the staple gun.” She sighed and disappeared into
the back while everyone else filed toward the door.
Everyone else but Ulmir. He leaned over me while I wrapped an extension cord around Foxglove’s wrists. “What are you going to do to him?”
I turned Foxglove over onto his back with a grunt. “Save him if I can.”
“And if you can’t?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Several other people from my fledgling court had stopped to hear my answer. Ulmir wasn’t asking out of personal curiosity. How I answered would shape the whole court’s reaction to the situation. The queens had a long history of mistreating their knights, using them and throwing them away. They wanted to know if I was going to be any different. “Then we put him in holding until I figure out how to save him.”
The answer seemed to satisfy everyone but Ulmir. The crowd dispersed, moving slowly toward the door. Ulmir, however, stayed right where he was and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t give two shits about politics, and I’m not a coward. I just don’t want to throw away my life without cause. The other courts have spent the last eight months laughing at us or outright ignoring us. Now they need our help, and you’re ready to jump. Would you be so inclined to help if she wasn’t your kid?”
I finished tying Foxglove up and stood. “Where do you think Mask is going to come when he’s done with Faerie?”
Ulmir didn’t answer.
“I’ll tell you where. Here. He’s an invasive species, a cloud of locusts that devours one country down to the bones before moving on. I’ve seen what his black vines can do to the land. Everything they touch dies. You want that here? You want to wind up like him?” I jerked my head back toward Foxglove.
Ulmir’s eyes slid to the unconscious Fae behind me and he frowned. “It still doesn’t excuse how they’ve treated us.”
I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t, but I don’t believe in an eye for an eye. Not anymore. You hate them, they hate you and around and around it goes with everybody mad at each other for all eternity. That’s how wars get started. I don’t know about you, Ulmir, but I’d rather build a future than fight about the past.”
