“Why did you kill the girl in the tower?” he asked.
I sighed. “I did not kill anyone,” I said slowly, so he could hear every syllable I was speaking, since he had not appeared to understand me the first time. “I do not know who the girl in the tower is, let alone why someone would want her dead.”
“Your Magic is all over the tower. Or, do you deny that?” Astraea smiled at me disarmingly.
“My Magic was what halted the Curse,” I explained. “It is all over the entire kingdom of Gilterra. It would especially be around the tower because that is where the princess was meant to rest. Do you know who the girl was? Was she one of the princess’s handmaidens and ended up there by accident?”
Dallan rubbed his chin. “What a curious theory,” he rumbled. “But, no. The girl was not local.”
I stared at him in consternation. “But how was she under the Sleep Spell, then? Mine was set only to cover those who were in Gilterra at the time the Spell was enacted.”
“She was added to the spell after the fact,” he said abruptly.
I frowned. “How…?” I bit my bottom lip, considering. “A Godparent would have had to add her.”
“You,” he stated.
“No,” I replied firmly. “I did not add anyone to the spell.”
He blinked at me. Obviously, his opinions on the matter were at war with the fact that he knew I could not lie to him.
I ticked off the points on my fingers. “I do not know where Princess Talia is. I did not kill the girl in the tower or add her to my spell. I was unaware that anyone was dead until today. I am a very terrible fairy and would not be able to add someone to the spell even if I wished to do so.”
Behind me, Gloriana stifled a laugh at my confession.
“I did the spell I was meant to do,” I finished, “I felt it sink in properly, the way it always does when a spell is done right. After that, I never saw Gilterra after the Christening.”
I hesitated, wondering if I had not mentioned the way Magic felt when spells worked. I wasn’t sure if that was a universal truth or just my experience.
Thankfully, the twins didn’t react one way or the other.
They just stared at each other, and then at me.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
Chapter Seven
Before anyone could break the silence, the double doors into the office flew open in a show of Magic and force. As the gesture was accompanied by orange and purple sparkles, I had no doubts about the origin of the interruption.
My family had arrived.
I might be the least, most despised member of our clan, but I was still a Reynolds, and that meant that I was under the family protection. Loyalty was both fault and strength for the Reynolds clan. In private, my family might ridicule me or despair of my choices in life, but in public, I was the chosen daughter! Beloved and precious to kith and kin!
That was the sentiment that I saw when I turned to face the entourage that dared barge into the private rooms of Justice and Mercy.
I was moved and a little stunned to find my rather scholastic father among the company, along with my mother—who would always be the front line in any assault taken against the Reynolds name—and various cousins, aunts, uncles. There were faces there that belonged to members of the family that had refused to speak to me for the last two and half centuries since I first decided to shake off the family mold and seek an individual entity and career.
One slight, real or imagined, against me, and here they came. Some, I saw, were literally up in arms. Others, like my parents, were armed to the teeth with wit both sharp and venomous.
I, personally, would have preferred facing the swords my other kid carried. Their damage would be quick, and soon forgotten. My parents’ words, on the other hand, were nearly impossible to forget. I was still attempting the shake off the results of only mildly acidic wit.
“What insanity prevails here?” My father’s pointed mustache and beard quivered with the force of his demand. He affected a scholar’s near-sighted peering, though I knew that his vision was as sound as mine. He imagined it made him look more intelligent. I imagined his eight-plus centuries of scholarly pursuit, countless tomes, and entire University named after him also afforded him the accolades he felt he deserved, but he continued to play the game of appearing to be a scholar by affecting “scholarly behavior”.
Studies had been done about that particular line of thought among the intelligentsia, but most were waved off as the histrionics of pseudo-literati.
While my father’s hair stood on end, like the feathers of a startled exotic bird, my mother was, as usual, perfectly coiffed. She used her appearances as a weapon every bit as much as my father, but to the purpose of overwhelming her foes with so much overstimulation, they could never get past gaping at her enough to dare to argue.
Of the pair, my mother was the intellectual superior, but no one dared to mention the fact where my father could hear them. Her mind was full of the winding vines of politics and society and manipulating her place therein, my father’s mind was immersed in the past, study, and the search for new phenomena, no matter how obscure or unimportant.
All in all, they balanced well.
They had, on a planned schedule, had me just as my mother was reaching her fourth century, much later than most fairies produced their progeny. They had spent those first two centuries together building a reputation for themselves.
They planned for one child, me. I would be the culmination of all their intelligence and beauty and a pinnacle of their successes in the world.
For the first century after my birth, it appeared that they had received their just dues, as far as their molding and shaping of their legacy in the form of a child.
Every century since had found them in astounded dismay that I could speak, and that I had my own agendas that fit into neither of their worlds.
I had fully expected my parents to produce another heir after realizing that I was a sport, a mutation in their lines, and no true daughter to them. So far, however, there had been no siblings and no indication of any to come.
By habit, I inspected my mother’s tiny waist. No signs of gestational expansion there.
“Well?” My father set his hands on his hips and glowered at the twins, not even sparing a glance in my direction.
“We are following protocol and questioning Graciously concerning her Magic in and around the castle in Gilterra,” Astraea said evenly, not even bothering to rise from her chair.
“Grace,” I murmured because I knew no one would listen to me anyway.
“Gracie had nothing to do with the fiasco in that backwater,” my mother cried, putting on all her aristocratic airs at one time, her arms thrown out dramatically, her chest high and heaving, and her chin held at that particular angle that many sought to emulate, but few could achieve.
She was, I realized, arrayed in full court garb, with her hair piled up on her head in some sort of curly mountain. Her skirts were full, panniers in place, glistening with embroidered shot silk of the finest quality. She held a staff in place of a wand, just in case no one recognized that she was a powerful woman.
I glanced down at my own, plain skirts without so much as one petticoat beneath, and wondered again at the joke heredity had played on my parents.
“I did place the Sleep Spell, Maman,” I said before she could launch herself too far in the face of the twins and find herself in unrecoverable territory. She would resent me if this display hurt her image. “But I have already explained that the additional Magic and the deaths were nothing to do with me.”
I don’t know how she did it, but my mother managed to turn ghostly white and sway as if suddenly overcome by my words. Cynically, I wondered if her corset had been laced too tight. That was the only excuse I could think of for her nearly fainting.
“Deaths?” She shrieked the word as if she had turned banshee overnight and was testing out her new vocal abilities.
“We know nothing o
f any deaths,” my father stated, cross because he was admitting that he did not know something.
I fought the urge to cover my face with my hands. Despite their constant embarrassment of me, they were difficult to handle if they felt that I was an embarrassment to them. Instead, I tucked my hands behind my back and twisted them together.
They were making everything so much worse! I hated it when they did this. Sometimes it was better just to leave things alone.
But my parents could never do that.
They had to send the perfectly fine steak back to the kitchen for not being the right degree of medium-rare. They had to complain if there were too many ice cubes or not enough ice, or if a drink was too hot or cold, even if it was supposed to be that hot or cold…
They were not the type to settle for fine, or anything mediocre. They demanded the best and they demanded it all the time.
I caught Dallan looking in my direction. I thought his expression might be slightly sympathetic before he trained it back to a perfectly blank canvas, yet again.
“I’ve already explained everything,” I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible, so no member of my family could possibly take the slightest offense.
“She has been eminently helpful to our investigation,” Dallan said, his voice deep and low enough to cut through the chaos my parents had dragged along with them.
The dragon on my shoulder peeped in agreement. My mother twisted her head in my direction, her eyes narrowing as she took in my strange ornamentation.
I definitely would be hearing about that later. Just my luck, wearing miniature dragons would be out of fashion just now.
I nearly snorted at the thought.
Flit, catching the idea in my mind, made an offended sound. I reached up to stroke his head before he could take action against my family.
“If you do not let my daughter go, right this instant, I will see to it that you and your underlings are severely punished!” My mother settled her hands on her hips and glowered impressively.
“Well, we have no more need for her here at the moment,” Astraea began.
My mother smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
I had to hand it to her. In the face of the most powerful beings in our world, she remained unimpressed. Just how she thought she’d be able to punish them was the real question.
Astraea rose and, with her, so did Dallan. At the sight of their impressive height, and the way Magic coiled around them as if prepared to strike at any instant, my family actually stepped back away from them.
Naturally, my mother was the first to recover.
“Do not suppose to instruct us on our duties,” Dallan said, his voice gentle, but firm. “Gloriously is able to leave now at our discretion, not for any powers or status you claim to hold. I suggest you remove yourselves forthwith from our sight.”
My mother’s chest puffed up as if she wanted to argue, but my father caught her by the arm and dragged her out of the room. They were swiftly followed by the rest of my clan.
“I apologize for my family,” I said stiffly. I hated having to apologize for them, but they certainly weren’t going to do it.
Dallan blinked in my direction. “Family is always… difficult.”
Astraea elbowed him in the side, hard.
I gaped at the lack of formality in the gesture.
“If you put me in the same category as those…” She shook her head at him in a warning.
He raised his eyebrows. “You’ll what, sister dear? Elbow me again? In the face this time, perhaps? It’s been only a week since the last time you did that. But, no, I wasn’t referring to you. As you should know.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Then stop being a bully,” he said, with no rancor whatsoever.
I had the feeling they had this sort of conversation many times a day. The thought filled me with bemusement.
“Do they always champion you in such a manner?” Astraea leaned towards me curiously.
I shrugged. “More or less.”
Behind me, Gloriana cleared her throat. I had almost forgotten that she was standing there. No doubt, she had made herself ignorable in the presence of the rest of my family. “She was meant to be their prize mare,” she said, rather crudely for her. “They will do anything to keep her in that box.”
I gaped at her. I’d never heard Gloriana speak so dismissively of our family.
She shrugged. “You know it’s true. They still want to force you to follow their plans for your life, as if you weren’t your own fairy. I know it bothers you, so don’t pretend otherwise.”
The twins turned towards me in one motion and raised their eyebrows as if intrigued to hear my answer.
“Of course, it bothers me,” I said. “But I am grateful to have a family. They do care for me, in a manner of speaking.”
“Prize mare,” my cousin whispered behind me.
I was going to have to talk to her about this. I’d had no idea she felt so strongly about how my family treated me.
Not that she and her parents ever appeared at the family gatherings that could be at all avoided.
“For now, you will no longer be held for observation,” Astraea announced, “But we will no doubt be in contact with you again if only to gain any insights you may have into this crime.”
I scratched Flit’s chin. “Really? You want my insights?”
“We will be watching you,” Dallan stated clearly, his eyes narrowed in my direction. “There is much about the circumstances of these deaths that troubles me. If, as you stated earlier, a Godparent is involved, then we must set this matter straight swiftly.”
“Before the balance of Magic is shifted,” Astraea added with a decisive nod.
I gaped. “Do you think that might happen?”
They exchanged a troubled glance.
“There are concerns,” Astraea said after a long moment.
Her brother scowled at her. “That is more than we should be divulging at this moment, but it is the truth.”
I blinked at him for a moment as I digested the words. He would not have felt the need to verify that they were speaking the truth, unless… “You can lie?”
The twins stared and me with matching expressions of bemusement.
I felt like an idiot.
“Of course, you can lie,” I babbled. “Everyone knows that, right? Does everyone know except for me? Was this something I was supposed to know all along?”
“We prefer that no one know,” Dallan said sternly, staring into my eyes, then at Gloriana. “That we can lie should never be known by the general public. There would be… unease.”
I shrugged. “Well, I swear I won’t tell anyone.”
Gloriana murmured the same thing behind me.
Now, effectively, neither one of us would be able to share their secret with anyone who didn’t already know.
“You swear so easily,” Astraea said slowly, twisting a golden strand of her hair between her fingers. “How curious.” Her eyes shifted to the dragon on my shoulder. “How very curious, indeed.”
I had a feeling that she saw more than she was supposed to when she looked at Flit. I tensed, wondering if I should be worried.
“Do not fear us,” Dallan instructed.
“Yes, you have no need to fear us,” Astraea echoed.
The twins lifted the hoods back into place.
And we were dismissed from their presence.
Gloriana grasped my arm as we hurried away. I could not keep my heard from pounding.
“Are you afraid?” Gloriana squeezed my arm. “Why? You heard what they said. You don’t have to fear them.”
I stared at her and I saw the moment she realized.
They had said we need not fear them.
But they could lie.
Gloriana swallowed visibly. She clutched my arm tighter and hurried us towards the stairs.
“Did you see Ferdie?” She giggled nervously.
I blinked
at her. “What? No. When?”
She laughed this time, a real mirthful laugh. “He was in the middle of the family, standing there looking miserable with his sword drawn, looking like he wished to be anywhere else.”
I laughed at the thought. “I can’t imagine a place he’d like less to be, than defending me!”
“He hated every moment of it.” Gloriana’s voice sounded delighted.
We were still giggling when the doors at the top of the stairs flew open and the twins came charging in our direction, their cloaks flowing around them like storm clouds.
“What?” I called, shocked into speaking. “What happened?”
“We have received word,” Dallan’s voice spoke from underneath his dark hood. “The Kingdom of Gilterra…”
My breath left my lungs in an aching gasp. “Yes?”
Astraea bent her hooded head as Gloriana’s grip on my arm became painful.
“They are awake,” The Song of Justice announced.
Chapter Eight
Of the strangeness I had faced all day, the strangest moment of all was riding with the twins of Justice and Mercy back to Gilterra. We were inside their personal carriage, one that was white on one half, and black on the other. Even the winged horses pulling it carriage were each evenly black and white with pattered coats and feathered legs. Even their wings were patterned light and dark together.
Gloriana had announced that she had to return home, stating the late hour as an excuse.
I couldn’t blame her. I was equally as exhausted, but I was beginning to realize that there would be no rest for me until we started pulling together some answers.
I stifled a yawn behind my hand. I had been awake since dawn and had not eaten since shortly thereafter. I was running on the barest dregs of energy.
“Perhaps you should have gone with your friend to get rest,” Dallan spoke suddenly, surprising me into startling.
“What?” I stared at him. It was hard to figure out where his eyes were, with his hood pulled low again. “Oh. Gloriana is my cousin. I suppose I could have gotten a ride from her or someone else, but… I simply won’t be able to rest until this fiasco in Gilterra is made right.”
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