by KB Anne
Alaric glances at me. Does he know about us?
Heat gathers in my cheeks, and it has nothing to do with the fire. Gods, I hope not.
Scott crosses his arms and scowls at Alaric. Granda reminded him of our portal-hopping excursion.
“Do I even want to ask?” Ryan whispers to me.
“The seeds of knowledge often take root when least expected,” I say.
“Just because you spout prophetic lines I don’t understand doesn’t mean I’m going to treat you any differently,” he says, pulling me into a hug to noogie the top of my head.
I roll my eyes, trying to act like I’m totally annoyed, but I’m thrilled. “I missed you, friend. I missed you.”
18
King of Cups
As she flew over the lake, her flock took notice and flew up to escort her for her return home. She nodded in greeting to the lead swan who had guided the others while Caer was gone. She’d missed her friends. They had cared for her as a young child, and they had cared for her as a grown woman. She could never repay them for the protection they provided her, but she knew they didn’t require payment. They considered her presence gift enough.
Keturah and a crowd of others gathered in the courtyard. A guard must have noticed their approach. Caer’s white wings were unmistakable. No one else bore the mark of the swan.
She alighted in the middle of the space, landing with the utmost care for Maddie who was still hanging from Naisha’s legs. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, she yelled, “Guards!”
Several came running and seized Naisha before she could fly away. She wouldn’t get free in the Faerie Realm. Not with faerie guards restraining her.
“Your Majesty,” Keturah said, leading the crowd of people now bowing to her.
Maddie bowed low as well.
“No,” she said to him, touching him between the shoulder blades before turning to the rest of them. “Please stand. I do not require your praise in such a manner.”
Keturah stood before her. “Queen Caer, it is a pleasure to have you home.”
“Thank you. I wish it wasn’t because of the present circumstances.”
Keturah’s eyes fell on Maddie, who now stood beside Caer. Her forehead pinched together. “Have we met?”
“Keturah, meet Madigan.”
At the mention of his mother’s name, Maddie stepped backward. His eyes slid from Caer to Keturah. Caer knew from his reaction that he wished to disappear and would have happily done so if it weren’t for the crowd. She’d felt that way many times as well. But with the knowledge that he was standing before his mother, he also didn’t want to appear weak.
“It’s all right, Maddie. I will explain.”
He blinked in appreciation.
“Why is Maddie familiar to me?” Keturah asked. “Is he Naisha’s son?”
Caer smiled. “No, Keturah. He’s yours.”
“Mine?” Her eyes brightened as she studied Maddie.
“Naisha took him and left him in the Earthly Realm.”
Keturah stepped in front of him. Maddie pinched his lips, unsure what to say or do.
“You are my son?”
Maddie blinked.
“You were stolen from me. I searched. I mourned. I longed for my baby. My boy. You.”
Now, seeing the two standing feet away from each other, the family resemblance was undeniable. They had the same eyes, the same smile, the same way they held their chins and shoulders.
Neither of them said a word for a very long time. They just stared at each other as if memorizing every inch of skin, every strand of hair, every feature. Time stood still. No one in the courtyard breathed a word. Not even Naisha, which suddenly surprised Caer. The fallen faerie usually had a lot to say on a variety of subjects when she wasn’t manipulating emotions. She turned to the guards to make sure Naisha was still being held captive and discovered why Naisha hadn’t said anything, not even to defend herself. The guards had wrapped her mouth shut with a silencing spell. She could see the magic aura wafting off of her. As if she felt Caer watching her, Naisha turned to her and widened her eyes in anger. Caer smiled. If the effect was to frighten her, it wouldn’t work. She’d fought off hordes of hellhounds and a Fomorian army. Angry eyes from a fallen faerie weren’t going to phase her.
“May I?” Keturah finally asked.
Maddie nodded, unsure what she was asking but not wanting to refuse her.
Keturah approached him and trailed her hand down his arm as if to prove to herself he was not a figment of her imagination. Then suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Hard.
Maddie glanced toward Caer, silently asking her what he should do.
“Go ahead,” she mouthed to him.
And with her approval, he embraced his mother and held on.
Caer had never met her own mother. According to her father, she’d died in childbirth, but Keturah had said faeries couldn’t die in childbirth, because they are immortal. Alaric’s warning came rushing back to her. If there was a prophecy predicting my death and it was attached to someone from my future generation, I’d make sure there wasn’t a future generation.
She wouldn’t bother Keturah and Maddie’s reunion, but she had to find out if there was a prophecy about her killing Balor. She had to make sure.
She scanned the crowd until her eyes fell on one of the villagers she recognized from her last visit. Britni was her name. Somehow she knew Britni had the answers she sought.
“Britni, would you mind helping me with something?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
And they hurried into the castle. It was time to find out once and for all why Balor was intent on obtaining her.
* * *
Caer walked into the giant library and inhaled. The comforting smell of old books filled her nostrils. It had been many years since she had set foot in the library. She glanced around at the high shelves filled with ancient volumes.
“Hello, old friends,” she said as she twirled around with her arms fanned out.
“My Queen, it is a pleasure to see you enjoy your bountiful collection of knowledge,” Britni said.
Startled, Caer staggered backward. After spending nearly a lifetime with the sole companionship of a powerful wizard who had never acknowledged her until a few weeks ago and too short of a time with Mathair Mhór, she had slipped into her solitary habit. Her neck warmed as a single bead of sweat ran down her back. She never let herself exhibit emotion in front of people. It made her uncomfortable, especially around Scott.
As if aware of her intrusion into Caer’s revelry, Britni bowed and stepped away. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you to the Prophecy Room.”
Caer glanced one more time at the rows and rows of books. One day she’d have an eternity to read them.
Britni led her down a long aisle with towering bookshelves on either side of them. When she got to the end, she pushed against the wall and a secret door appeared. She opened it and beckoned Caer to follow her.
“I didn’t know there was a secret room off the library,” Caer whispered in awe.
“My Queen, we’ve all heard the legends of the secret tunnels. Your tale of escape is a celebrated one.”
“You know how I escaped?”
“Not exactly, but the tunnels and your shapeshifting nature were foretold in the prophecy.”
“They were?”
“More or less. Here,” Britni said, still holding the door for her, “let me show you.”
Caer followed Britni up a winding marble staircase. Torches were blazing the entire way up, as if someone had known they were coming. Or perhaps by magic. She couldn’t decide how she felt about that.
“How did the library and this tower survive after Balor and his armies took possession of the castle?”
Britni turned around and frowned at her. “You really don’t know, do you.”
Caer disliked not knowing something. Like when Scott would talk about his precious Earthly Realm and all the thing
s Caer had never heard of before. The only difference was that the Faerie Realm and the castle were her domain. It made her even more angry.
She growled in frustration, and Britni backed up another step, putting room between them.
“Apologies, my Queen. I have forgotten that you haven’t been here since you were a young child. You didn’t learn all the histories. The library, the tower, and the tunnels are magicked.”
Magicked?
“Balor knew you escaped through the tunnels, but his men never gained access to them, nor the library or this tower. Likely, he didn’t know they existed. Here,” she said, putting her hand on the wall, “try it.”
Caer put her hand against the stone, feeling foolish. Freagarach was hanging in its scabbard. She could always threaten Britni with death if she was playing a trick on her.
Suddenly, the wall pulsed. She snatched her hand away.
“Keep touching the stone and trust me,” Britni murmured.
Caer did as instructed. The wall pulsed with energy. Her eyes brightened.
“The castle is alive with magic. No invader can penetrate its secrets. They are hidden from view and protected.”
Bitterness ripped through Caer. “It didn’t protect my father.”
“Your father’s blood strengthened it. His sacrifice ensured your protection. It ensured his people’s protection.”
“I don’t understand.”
Britni smiled. “When your father died, he triggered a powerful spell. A fail-safe, if you will. At his death, his people were jettisoned to the Land of Shadows.”
“Did my father know Balor was going to kill him?”
Britni’s eyes slid away from hers. “Let me show you the prophecies. There are other histories there too that you might be interested in.”
Britni was keeping information from her. Caer intended to find out what. She followed Britni to a large carved wooden door.
“This is where I leave you. Now that you’ve returned, the room and its secrets are for your use alone.”
“You cannot go inside?”
“Not anymore. Once you enter, the contents of the secrets will become forgotten memories to me.”
“You will forget everything you know?”
“There is no reason for me to remember with our Queen here.”
That didn’t seem fair to Caer. “Does that make you sad?”
“On the contrary. It is a burden that I do not wish anyone to carry.”
Caer hesitated outside the door. “And if I don’t go in?”
“Then I will retain the secrets. But the answers you seek will be found if asked.”
“I understand.” She didn’t, but she was going to pretend that she did.
“I bid you farewell,” Britni said, hurrying down the stairs.
“Britni?” she called out.
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No, I mean thank you for carrying our kingdom’s secrets.”
“It was an honor,” she said, bowing dutifully.
“Goodbye,” Caer murmured as she turned back to study the door.
There was no latch, no keyhole. She pressed her hand to it, remembering Britni’s lesson. Soon a pulse of energy surged through her palm. She gasped. She wasn’t sure she’d get used to the idea that the castle was alive. She took a deep breath to steady herself before pushing again, but the door refused to open.
She tried two hands. Still nothing.
She pushed with all her strength, but still the door didn’t budge. Her anger began to flash, and for one fleeting moment she considered running Freagarach through the wood.
She blew out air from her mouth. What was it that Britni had said? The answers you seek will be found if asked.
“Please reveal your secrets to me,” she said and pushed the door. When it didn’t open, she kicked it with her boot.
She thought about calling Britni back and asking her to open it for her, but she was the Queen. She needed to learn how to do things on her own.
The answers you seek will be found if asked.
She hadn’t asked.
“Will you reveal your secrets to me?” she asked as her palms rested against it. A tingling sensation coursed through them as the door opened for her.
As she stepped into the room, a loud whooshing sound filled the air. She watched as clear glass spheres grew cloudy. The prophecies were returning home.
Natural light filled the space. Caer searched for the source of it. At the far side of the chamber, a large window brought sunlight into the room. A long desk stood in front of it. She walked over and looked out. The window overlooked the lake. Below she could see her flock of swans circling around in the water. She could picture her father sitting at the desk and staring out at the lake. Was the sight of these swans the reason he’d chosen to turn her into a swan shapeshifter?
She turned around to face the room of swirling glass spheres. Did her father know that Balor was going to kill him? And if so, why didn’t he try to stop it?
A glass sphere glided off a shelf, landed gently on the floor, and rolled over to her. She reached down to lift it. It was time for her to find out.
19
Cat Burglar
Sphinx curls his back into a classic cat cowl, extending his claws into the soft earth.
Scott reaches down to scratch him behind the ears. “Now, remember when Bilbo snuck across the piles of gold, he caused a small avalanche that woke Smaug.”
Did your brother really just compare me to a hobbit?
“Scott, Sphinx finds it offensive that you’re using literary references again. He’s got this.”
Sphinx nods at me. Thank you.
“You’re welcome.”
Scott slouches as he stands back up. “Why do you get all the cool magical gifts?”
“I might be able to communicate telepathically, but I can’t cause harm to any living being. Do you know how frustrating that is when you won’t shut up?” I punch his arm.
“Ow,” he says, rubbing the tender spot. “I thought you said you couldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Guess annoying brothers don’t count.”
“Love you too, sis.”
“They do go on, don’t they,” Alaric whispers to Ryan.
“Yes, they do. I should have guessed they were brother and sister. Lizzie and I always thought they fought like an old married couple. We even tried to hook them up.”
Alaric growls.
Ryan pats Alaric’s arm. “Easy. Obviously it didn’t work.”
“Talk about gross,” I say.
“You’re no peach yourself, sunshine,” Scott says.
“Don’t you mean swan?”
His face winces in pain like I’d struck him, and in a way I did. Yep, bitch Gigi to the rescue.
“Sorry. I’m sure Caer is fine.”
“I hope she is and pray to the gods she doesn’t try anything stupid.”
“Thankfully, that’s my superhero power. After this heist, we’ll enter a meditation and see if we can contact her.”
“Do you think it’ll work?”
“Can’t hurt.”
“Okay, this is where Sphinx and I leave you,” Ryan says as we approach the ruins of Brigit’s cathedral.
Scott’s hands fold in and out of themselves. “Maybe you shouldn’t go. We just got you back. How will we know if you need help?”
Sphinx presses his paw against Ryan’s leg as if to say, “No, I alone must go.” Actually, that is exactly what he says, but he’s not able to push his thoughts into Ryan. The inability frustrates him.
“He’s telling you to stay.”
Sphinx fixes me with his feline glare.
“Fine. He’s ordering you to remain behind.”
Ryan crouches down to Sphinx’s height. “But you don’t know where to go.”
Have him show me.
“Think about where Breas’s lair is and where the spell book might be.”<
br />
He glances over at me. “Just think about it?”
“Just think about it.”
Sphinx presses his paws onto Ryan’s chest and closes his eyes. They flash open soon after.
Got it.
“That fast?” I say. I don’t mean to question my partner in catastrophe, but geez.
I am very efficient.
“I guess so. How will we know if you need us?”
Sphinx approaches me with a Cheshire Cat grin.
“Oh no. Forget I said anything.”
He leaps up into my arms, trusting that I’ll catch him. He rests his paws on my chest, but instead of closing his eyes, he breathes on me. My vision tunnels down to two diamond shapes, and I suddenly see myself.
“What the?”
Welcome to my world. Enjoy.
He jumps down and saunters away.
Alaric rushes over to me. “What’s wrong, Gigi?”
“I can see through Sphinx’s eyes. He’s on his way to find the spell book.”
“Watch out for hair balls,” Scott teases.
I’d roll my eyes if they were under my control, but they’re all Sphinx’s.
He covers a lot of ground quickly. He was clearly faking it all those times at home when I tried to get him to move out the way, but that is neither here nor there. Soon he approaches an old stone house and crouches low.
“I think he’s there.”
“Describe it,” Ryan says.
“It’s a one-and-a-half-story thatched-roof cottage hidden behind a dilapidated iron gate. The gardens are overgrown with a lot of weeds, and some of the shutters are falling off.”
“Sounds like it. What’s happening? We want a cat’s-eye view.”
“Very funny. There’s an open window. Another cat just climbed in through it, so Sphinx plans to follow. Okay, I’ve leapt onto the windowsill—er, Sphinx has leapt onto the windowsill. He’s prowling along the ledge as he looks around inside.”
“What does he see?”
“There are candles everywhere.”
“Well, hello there, kitty kitty,” purrs Witch Kensey.
My skins crawls as the saccharine sweetness of my nemesis’s voice hits my taste buds—or are they Sphinx’s taste buds? As Sphinx, I try to leap away from her, but she catches me and carries me into another room. For now, I don’t fight. I just let her carry me. I can always use my claws and leap out the window if needed.
