by Hayes, Drew
“If you think that hypothetical constitutes much of a plot, you should really familiarize yourself better with fey culture. What you just described would be our equivalent of a puzzle with only four corner pieces.” Hellebore didn’t sound like she was kidding—not that her tone ever told me much. It was probably a mix of both truth and hyperbole. I had a hunch that this endeavor represented a bit more effort than she might want me to think, but I also knew these were beings of incredible power who lived for untold centuries. Lots of time to practice thinking ahead.
With the snowstorm steadily clearing, I could once more make out Krystal’s flames on screen as she flew around, searching the ground. Every flap of those four wings (that really shouldn’t have supported a human’s weight) turned more flurries to steam, bypassing the material’s liquid phase entirely. She worked methodically, checking each area up and down before moving on to the next section. I doubted she even noticed the fading storm; everything she had was focused on hunting for her friend.
Looking away from the screen, I turned my eyes to the window, where I could still see the blizzard behemoth running deeper into the mystical mountains, to a place I imagined was even colder than here. I’d only seen pieces of the fey world, and was only now beginning to understand just how huge it could really be. For entire species like that to exist, in balance with the world around them, meant we weren’t just in a place where the rules of sunshine worked differently. This was truly another ecosystem, an entire new world, not some mere reflection of our own.
“Forgive me if this is rude or some manner of kingdom secret, I really don’t mean to pry, but my curiosity demands at least an attempt. What’s the connection between our two lands? Why can we walk between them? Are they just neighbors, or are they more interwoven than that?”
Now that I’d finally gotten the gumption to pose a few queries, the questions burst forth. Hellebore seemed unbothered, for all that was worth, so I’d hopefully managed to avoid more offense. “If those answers are a secret of our kingdom, then they are known only to the empress and other rulers, not to ones such as myself. I am old, Fredrick Fletcher, old beyond what most mortals would dare to imagine, yet not even I have been here from the start. Yours is only one of the realms we can reach, as is ours to you. Do not forget where your beloved’s power comes from. Why such passage is possible and varies between realms is either the domain of those beyond ourselves or simply the nature of existence.”
Right. I’d forgotten about the fact that devils did occasionally break over into our world, along with demons, fey, and other assorted beings I’d probably never heard of yet. Every time I thought I had a handle on how dangerous the parahuman world was, I got a fresh look to show me I’d barely scratched the surface. Even with years to adjust, I was still slowly growing accustomed to living on the same planet as beings with Gideon’s power. Now, I had to start grappling with whole other worlds right on top of ours, places where a blizzard behemoth was considered a pest.
A whoop of triumph stole my mind from such unproductive thoughts. On the enchanted screen, I could see Krystal, now standing over a familiar chunk of ice. It looked much like the one that had bound her, and as she sank her dark claws into the gleaming surface, the miniature prison melted away. Within seconds, it was weak enough to rip apart, which was precisely what Krystal did. In fact, she yanked so hard that chunks went flying through the air, crashing in the snow quite a distance off.
From within the now shattered ice, Krystal arose, carefully holding June Windbrook, whose face showed her to be a touch dazed, but otherwise unharmed. She leapt up from the ground, moving so fast the screen lost her. Moments later, I realized the item would no longer be necessary. Hellebore removed the ice-window once more, just in time for Krystal to come barreling through. The divider was back in place moments later, though I wondered how long it would hold with the heat Krystal was throwing off.
Seeing her at a distance had been one thing; up close and personal, I could appreciate how terrifying this new form really was. The armor was more than dark and hard, it was sharp, like any attack would hurt the striker more than the one receiving it. It didn’t help the general sense of menace that there was a sort of unnatural red shimmer that came and went, almost following one’s gaze. Her wings were still the show stealer, some parts so dark they looked like an abyss that had been sliced into reality. I felt like, the longer I looked at them, the easier it would be to fall into that space.
Yet before my eyes, the whole veneer was fast fading. Her wings shrank, the fire dimmed, and most of the armor fell away in cracking chunks, crumbling to what looked like ash upon hitting the floor. By the time the room was no longer capable of serving as a makeshift oven, Krystal was back to what I’d previously considered her devil form: claws and teeth, burning hair, glowing eyes.
I never thought I’d be so happy to see that shape.
“Very well done, Agent Krystal Jenkins. You have successfully driven off our invader, assisting Agent June Windbrook in her task. While you did so of your own volition, and thus have no right to claim reward, I do send you on with the thanks of winter, and this small token.” Before any of us could move, Hellebore was next to Krystal, leaning into kiss her delicately on the forehead.
The room spun for an instant, and when it was done, Krystal was back to normal. Human form, clothes unsullied by snow, ash, or blood: it was like she’d never jumped out the window in the first place. Usually, Krystal needed a few hours to fully downshift; I hadn’t even realized it was possible for a fey to aid the process. Was Hellebore flexing her power once more to drive the message home?
“You have been refreshed.” After a moment, Hellebore placed two fingers against her own lips, and then lowered her hand onto June’s forehead. This time, there was no immediate spin or change, but June’s half-opened eyes fully fluttered shut. “Agent June Windbrook will recover, as well, given some time to rest. Her injuries were more severe than your own.”
“That’s because she never should have been put against that thing in the first place,” Krystal snapped. Unlike me, she wasn’t quite so concerned with keeping things polite. “I still don’t know what this was about, but I’m going to find out, Hellebore. And if you get any fresh ideas, feel free to remember the sight of me sending that big old bastard running for the hills.”
I almost missed it. The moment came so fast, a simple point where assumptions and misunderstandings could create a secret. Luckily, my brain caught the snag, and I saw the trap laid out, plain as day. Hellebore expected me to keep the favor a secret, to protect Krystal from knowing the deal I’d made to help, preserving her pride in winning the day. There wasn’t even a need for me to lie: Krystal was already heading toward the expected conclusions without a word of input on my end. It was a cunning trick, cloaked in concern, yet giving Hellebore one more piece of leverage over me.
“It didn’t run on its own. Hellebore agreed to help drive it off, sooner than the weeks it would have taken, in exchange for a favor from me.” For all of Hellebore’s planning, she’d erred in expecting me to keep something secret. Krystal and I didn’t always see eye-to-eye—we’d had our share of disagreements, and even a few outright arguments—but we’d made it through everything we had by trusting and relying on one another. Keeping the truth from her wouldn’t make our predicament better; it would just mean we couldn’t face it together.
To my utter shock, Krystal stayed calm. Perhaps flying around in devil form had worked off some excess aggression, or holding her unconscious friend would make a second fight harder. Whatever the case, she took a deep breath as understanding set in, then set her jaw.
“I get it now. I mean, I don’t get it, but we’ll have time to figure that part out. This was all a ruse to squeeze you, and they used me to do it. Well, used June to use me, and I think now, maybe you’re seeing why I’m glad I didn’t marry into a fey family. Hellebore, anything to add?”
“He spoke no mistruths. When presented with the timeframe of yo
ur task—information you never thought to request—Fredrick Fletcher grew concerned for your upcoming wedding. In return for my aide, he offered recompense: a favor, with some limitations. The deal was fair and agreed upon by both sides.” From her pocket, Hellebore produced the dull gold disc.
The sight of it pulled a frown to Krystal’s face, but she retained her composure. “I see. That is something we’ll definitely need to discuss at length. For now, I’d like to get June home and resting. Unless there is something else, we request passage home.”
“As a guest, such is your right.” Hellebore raised her hand, only to be stopped by Krystal a moment later.
“Hang on! Sorry, almost forgot. Since we’re here, and I have the opportunity, I would like to extend a formal invitation for our wedding. Please inform the Empress of Winter that she is welcome to attend our modest celebration, and the invitation extends to you, as well, Hellebore. We of course understand the time demands placed upon those of royalty, but one must always leave the door open should they choose to grace us with their presence.”
For a reason I couldn’t even begin to guess at, Hellebore’s face twisted in begrudging annoyance. Something passed between her and Krystal, a look I lacked the context to interpret. “I shall pass all official correspondence along, as is my duty. Now, as you have said, my time is short.”
She clapped her hands, and suddenly, the castle was gone. Instead, we were sitting on the front porch of Charlotte Manor, looking out onto the dark sky of a new evening, the sun having vanished from the sky for an hour, at most. We’d been gone for the majority of the afternoon, despite how long the ordeal felt.
I heard rustling as Krystal gently lowered June into a rocking chair, then walked over to my side.
“So, you owe the fey a favor?”
“I didn’t see another way out,” I admitted.
“They’re pretty good about setting things up like that.” Her hand landed on mine, fingers intertwining. “At least you were smart enough to put in some limits. We’ll go over those in a bit. I need to rest first. Throwing around that much power takes a toll.”
Tempting as it was to let things fall off into peaceful silence, my curiosity refused to stay mute on one point. “I’m fine with that, but I have to know: why did you invite the empress and Hellebore to our wedding?”
That drew of chortling snort of laughter. “Oh man, that was a stroke of last-minute genius. Fey pride themselves on manners, procedure, all that crap. By inviting one of their royals to our wedding, through one of their official attendants, we have shown deference. Anyone who tried to move against that wedding, then, doing crap like what Hellebore just did, would be seen as disrespecting their royals. It’s convoluted as crap, but that’s politics. Hopefully, it will keep her from throwing up any hurdles just to prove a point or something equally dumb. Also, I’m pretty sure they now have to send us a gift.”
“It’s going to be ice-themed, isn’t it?” I asked.
“One hundred percent,” Krystal confirmed. “Thanks for doing what you did, by the way. Not sure I agree with the move, but I get where your heart was.”
The fallout from this day would echo for unknown time to come; I now had a fey-made sword hanging overhead, and no idea when it would drop. However, in that moment, we’d won. The day was saved, the wedding was on, and our future looked bright, evening sky be damned. Not every scuffle would end this way, so I was making a point to savor the victories when they came.
I kissed Krystal, and she kissed me back, a tender moment interrupted by a hacking snore from June. Though the spell was broken, we lingered on one another’s lips a bit longer before heading inside to face our friends, along with their armada of concerned questions.
Trust, Friendship, and Love That’s True
1.
Part of me kept waiting for Hellebore to act again: another vanished friend, perhaps a loophole to call in my favor early. But as the days wore on, and we drew closer to our wedding, only a keen sense of unease crept up on me. Some of it was in regards Hellebore, but honestly, she was only one piece out of many. The more I thought about the fey, the more I realized she was probably laying groundwork for a much longer term plan. It seemed her way to be slow and deliberate, like a glacier.
No, Hellebore had only been the rock that started the avalanche of worry. Much as I tried to deal with everyone fairly and respectfully, I had made a few enemies throughout the years. The Turva clan stood out the most, as they were a constant pain in my side. There was also the serpantiles I’d helped keep from stealing a magic jewel, a rogue vampire hunter I’d gotten captured, dracolings from whom I’d won Bubba’s freedom, and a myriad of tiny conflicts that had the potential to create grudges. That was without even getting into the larger threats, like my sire’s occasional attempts on my life.
It was a train of thought I had to work hard to keep from my mind during the final week leading up to the wedding. Mercifully, there was plenty to do. While we’d ordered much of what we needed at the wedding in Boarback, we had still ample left to prepare and haul down. Krystal’s dress had to be specially made, the Clovers were working on some enchanted displays, and Amy was whipping up a keg of something she promised would hit every parahuman like wine, regardless of their physiology. Amidst all of that, I was fielding calls to Boarback, wrapping things up with clients before the break, and giving Lillian everything she’d need to hold down the fort while I was gone.
By the time the day we were finally set to head down arrived, I’d managed to work myself to near exhaustion. Keeping busy had helped me avoid the fear of something going wrong. A few weeks prior, I’d have been anxious about bad weather, or shorting the catering order. After a full week of worry, I’d just be happy so long as everyone survived the event.
For the trip down, we had to split into multiple cars. Krystal and I, as the happy couple, rode down in my hybrid, despite Krystal’s protests that her truck was roomier. I won that fight thanks to the fact that we were taking a terrestrial route into Boarback, which meant, as the honored couple, we needed to blend in. She countered by pointing out that a truck in Texas was far less distinctive, at which point, I gestured to her bumper sticker—“My only brake is breaking my foot off in your ass”—and the debate was settled.
Following us in Krystal’s truck, doing the bulk of the hauling, were Asha, Amy, Bubba, and Gregor. There had been some complaints from Gregor about being in a different car, but even he seemed to understand at least this much situational context. Lillian had gone down early to see the town; Arch, Neil, and Albert were all flying in, since they had a job to do first, whereas June and Al had both said they’d take their own route. They’d been gracious enough to take the model of Charlotte Manor with them—the same one we’d used to bring her into the fey world to visit the Court of Frost. With Charlotte stuck in place by nature, it was a rare chance for her to do some sightseeing, and since I suspected June and Al would be moving through the fey realm, Charlotte would see quite the sights indeed.
As the roads rolled by and Colorado faded into New Mexico, I slowly started to relax. For all my worrying, no one else had attacked us or stolen one of us away. Now that we were out on the road and harder to find, I felt a tad more at ease. It also didn’t hurt that we were heading toward a place Krystal considered to be absolutely safe. I might never find out just what Sheriff Thorgood was, or what his powers were, but if he made Krystal feel unneeded in a fight, then it had to be impressive. Hopefully, a day in Boarback would unknot my stomach before the ceremony.
The closer we drew to our destination, the more at ease I felt. It was strange, sitting in the sunlight filtered through my enchanted windows, watching the world roll by, to know that I was so strong in darkness, yet popping open the door would set me instantly alight. That was the hard adjustment to the parahuman world too many people skimmed over. It made you stronger, yes, but also more vulnerable. It put you on the radar of far more dangerous creatures, took away your ability to pretend monsters weren�
�t real; sometimes even changed the way you could live entirely.
My hand frequently found its way into Krystal’s on the drive, a reminder that not all vulnerability was negative. Before I’d met her, my life was quiet and peaceful. Ever since… not so much. Yet I wouldn’t have traded my time with her and the others for anything, not even a return to my human body. Seeing June used to manipulate Krystal had been an excellent example of how the people we loved could be wielded against us. By the same token, however, Krystal’s willingness to dive in and fight proved how we were stronger when we had one another to depend on.
Thanks to an early morning departure, we managed to limit the entire journey to a single day, minimizing our need to deal with roadside motels or potential ambushes. Normally, I’d have been far more concerned with the former than the latter, though I was grateful to skip the ordeal entirely. We also made excellent time thanks to Krystal’s heavy foot and some apparently enchanted dashboard trinket that kept cops from noticing us. Sometimes, I was very glad indeed for the Agency; others, I wondered just how much useful, incredibly dangerous stuff they were sitting on. In this case, I could certainly see why those items were not just given to the public at large.
Near the final stretch of travel, once the sun had dipped below the horizon, we pulled over to a roadside diner to wait for Sheriff Thorgood. Since we were going in by road, he had to escort us. The ways to Boarback were secret, and most of them would be blocked off by one seemingly natural phenomenon or another if we lacked guidance. It was one of the many layers of protection used to keep humans from accidentally wandering into an openly parahuman town. Boarback was among the very limited places in the country where supernatural beings could exist without hiding; no normal person was prepared to walk in on that scene.
As we filtered into the diner, I wondered how many parahumans took this route. The faded ’50s facade felt like any other roadside eatery across the nation, yet no one blinked an eye as our party of six—two of whom were pale, two of whom were huge—ambled through the entrance. Granted, there were maybe seven other people in the entire establishment, and it was a bit late, so perhaps they were dealing with their own distractions.