by S L Mason
Lavender bows deeply along with Janice. “My lady, I offer my services,” Lavender announces, her head remaining down.
Janice coughs, tilting his head up a bit so I can see his violet eyes glance from Lavender to me.
“May I rise?” Lavender asks.
“Oh, sorry, you, you may rise,” I stutter.
She rises and comes to my side, singing a cleaning song.
“Leave it, I want all of Fae to see,” I order.
She whispers, “My lady.” Then, she nods at Janice who still bows at the base of the stairs.
“Pl… rise, Janice” I stammer.
“My lady, do you wish to clean the room before your subjects arrive?” Janice inquires and turns slightly to indicate the bodies on the floor.
“No, I wish for every Fae to see what deceit has cost,” I reply, humming. Then, I release a power I never knew could exist and watch as the vision of my mind takes form in front of me.
The bodies of the fallen challengers lift and reposition themselves before lowering to a row at the sides of the room, floating like the carved effigies of the Knights Templar.
It is all I can do to keep the lump in my throat at bay and the tears in their place. Seven bodies line either side, with Nikki floating in the center closest to my throne.
The room morphs around me, adjusting to my whim. The walls are laced with flowers, and light from Fae shines through clear windows, illuminating the floors and walls. The mural behind me shines with renewed color, defining the golden age of Fae. It reveals the true contents of the scene when all was young and filled with hope.
The blood of the fallen lay in puddles around the room. The largest and the only one with mushrooms is at the entrance to the throne room, Nikki’s.
I can’t bring myself to leave my seat, even with the tears threatening. I won’t cry in front of Fae.
Using measured steps, Janice approaches my throne. “Your Majesty, will you allow me to heal you?” Fear and longing wake from him. His aura colors with uncertainty.
“Please don’t call me that. Sarinah is my real name. Please, call me Sarinah or just plain Sarah,” I plead with a tentative smile.
Janice reaches my side, only to kneel at my feet. I don’t want him subservient to me. “Please don’t treat me different, Janice, I can’t take it.” I cup his chin lifting his face to mine, and find a fine layer of hair covers his cheeks.
His voice rises, carrying love on every note and wiping the aches and pains away. I drown in his violet eyes. Without a moment’s hesitation, he leans in and our lips meet. My heart speeds up as a new fire tears through my veins and just as quickly we part.
“I love you,” I whisper.
The smile I always long for spreads across his face. In a husky voice, he replies, “I love you too, but you already knew that.” His hand caresses my neck and his forehead touches mine.
I choke back my laugh. “Well, you have to love to heal. Puca explained how it works.”
Lavender cuts in, “Your Majesty ‘they’ come—the Princes.”
Janice releases me and turns to leave.
I call to him, “Don’t! stay by my side!” My hand grips his while the other hand grips the armrest whitening my knuckles.
Janice’s response is quick and measured, “Sarinah, I will from this day forward stand wherever your heart desires.” His brows draw together. “But this once I must decline. It is the only time you must face this on your own. It is the only way they will respect you.”
I hear the wisdom in his words and huff a sigh. My hand lingers until our fingertips pull apart. He steps back and takes up a position off to the side.
Lavender moves around the room, primping the dead.
“Don’t clean the blood from them, just fix their hair and makeup. I want them to look as beautiful as possible. I don’t want all of Fae snickering about their looks.”
Four figures approach the great arched doorway, each in step with the other. Two of white and two of black, each dressed to kill.
Jacques enters with Deston at his side, while Bonn and Wot keep to each other. They stride to the base of the dais and bow in unison. I let them hang there for a moment too long, just because.
“You may rise!” I order.
The Princes raise their heads in turn. Deston’s eyes bore into me, but I ignore his feeble attempts to ensnare me with charisma; I’m beyond that level of control. Jacques carries an air of disdain while covertly searching the great room for something. His eyes trail across the prone form of Cernunnos, and a small cruel smile edges his lips.
Bonn and Wot wait with eager smiles.
Bonn opens his mouth, only to be cut off by Deston saying, “Where is our King?” Deston’s eyes wander the large space, lingering on the form of Cernunnos off in the corner. From Deston’s vantage point with all the blood, Cernunnos could be dead.
“Is that all you have to say to your new Queen?” I inquire, drawing his attention back to me.
Deston’s ears redden; he opens his mouth and quickly closes it again.
Bonn cuts in, “Your Majesty, the Seelie court rejoices with your ascension and weep for your fallen comrades.” Bonn tilts his head down and crosses his fingers before touching them to his forehead. His wakes are clean and free of deceit. After a moment of silence, Bonn continues, “Won’t you allow the Seelie court to care for the bodies of the fallen? I would be pleased to personally see your will fulfilled.” I’m taken aback at the good manners of the Seelie court. I didn’t think Fae had any.
I reply, “I will handle the dead myself, but thank you. Is there anything else you would like to offer me?” Fealty—that is what Janice said I need.
Wot knelt to the floor, crossing his fingers, and tilts his head down. “I will swear my fealty to you.” Wot’s words and actions are echoed by Bonn.
“I accept your pledge, in the name of Danu and Oberon,” A half smile quirks my face. Just evoking Puca’s name makes me want to laugh. “The first King and Queen of Fae. Arise and be recognized.” Both regain their feet and step to the side to reveal additional Fae gathering in the outer reaches of the grand room.
Jacques frown deepens, along with Deston's barely contained rage.
Jacques raises his eyebrows as if he’s just thought of something and spouts, “May I be the first to kiss your hand, my Queen?” He moves forward.
I raise my hand in a sign to stop. “Sorry, Charlie, but you ain’t the first. Someone beat you to it. Perhaps you’d like to swear your undying fealty instead?” I cock an eyebrow at him.
He steps back and turns his head to the side to spy the size of the audience, then smacks his dry lips together. “I cannot recognize your ascension without a king.” He stares me down with his misogynist attitude.
I gasp. “You refuse to recognize my right to rule without some stupid man at my side? Are you kidding me?” The walls pale with my anger, and the wood turns the dry silver of death. Flowers fade from the walls, and leaves fall as if under an autumn breeze.
Both princes fall to their knees under the pressure. They strain to stay upright. “If you will not bend a knee without a king, then I will provide you with one. Who do you suggest?” I demand. God, now I’m starting to sound like the Fae.
Deston takes the bait. “You should choose your heart’s desire.” He bows his head to hide a small smile.
I shift my gaze to Jacques and await his bright idea.
He clears his throat and plunges in. “A king should be held in high regard by his people. A leader among Fae, a warrior able to defend Fae and his Queen, someone you trust with your life.” His eyes shift to Janice and back to me in a flash.
They are herding me to a choice. I shoot a glance at Janice, and he stares through me at the mural behind.
I respond, “That’s it? Neither of you wants to be king?” Gripping the stone armrest, I lean forward.
Cernunnos supplies, “They don’t wish to become wild.” The soft, study voice comes from behind. “To be king is to be
wild. If the Queen is reason and order the King is wild and chaos. They don’t want to lose control.”
My head whips around to meet Cernunnos’ dark remarks. I had to kill Cernunnos to win the throne, they know this. Cernunnos rises to stand behind my throne.
A gasp comes from the crowd. I turn back to survey my new subjects and find the shocked member.
On the seat next to me lays the torc gleaming with a magical spell. I grip the torc in both hands, holding it up for all to see.
Jacques and Deston smile tentatively in satisfaction, and their auras’ color is glee. I hum a slight change to the torc and it shines back with renewed power.
“Janice, can you,” I pause and skip over the please, “come over here?” I ask.
He moves, stone-faced, and stands before me, then bows deeply. His aura colors red with fear but is also lined with love.
I want to put his fear to rest, but that isn’t going to draw my enemies out and trap them. “Janice, do I have your fealty?” I ask.
“You know you do. I offer myself as King if you so wish.” Janice’s unflinching overture eases my fears.
I sift my attention from Janice to Deston. “A lowly warrior in your court, Deston, is willing to offer what you will not.” I turn my gaze to Jacques. “Lavender, come before me,” I order.
She comes out from behind the throne and takes up a position next to Janice. I continue, “Lavender, do I have your fealty?” I inquire.
Lavender lifts her head, giving me an easy smile. “Yes, always and for all time, my Queen,” she replies, and her sight shifts from me to Cernunnos.
Not taking my eyes from Jacques, I continue, “Jacques, a member of your court offers me what you deny. What have you to say?” I demand, drumming my fingers on the stone chair.
Jacques never flinches, but stoically replies, “I gave this Fae to Deston at his request. I take no part in the choices of his court. I offer myself as king if you desire.” He leans back, straining against the magic hold I place on him.
Deston is the patsy, Jacques’ offering in case I don’t take Janice. This was the plan all along. Jacques would never have given Lavender to Deston, as a favor. He kept Arty for insurance, only parading him out to show me he has something I want.
Deston’s muscles work to hold him upright. He raises his voice in self-defense, “Sarah, Your Majesty, do not trust Jacques. He will betray you. It was his idea to throw you and Janice together. He hopes you will choose Janice, leaving us to manipulate you to his own ends.” Deston’s green eyes search my face in desperation. He fears being named King— he fears the crown more than anything.
Puca’s words ring in my mind, ‘Only one choice left to make, don’t make the obvious one’.
“I offer myself as King, should you have need of me, your Majesty,” Bonn announces and sweeps down into a deep bow.
Wot wakes fear and stumbles over his words. “I w-would be-e honored to be King, if you so desire.” He tilts his head down to hide the fear etched on his face.
I had seen what being king meant, and I had them right where I wanted them. Now to spring the trap.
To rule is about control or the illusion of control. “Janice, and the princes of each court, come to me.” I hold my breath as each Fae, in turn, took the steps to cluster in front of my stone seat.
Tilting my head back to take in the faces before me, I swallow. How do I make this work?
“I only wish for the strongest leader for our people.” I know they don’t consider humans our people, but I do. I can’t choose anyone who wouldn’t take my point of view. I pull a tight smile across my face.
I plunge in—it will work, I know it will. “If you can’t give me your fealty, then offer me your hand in friendship so I can move our people into the modern world.” I give a nervous laugh to throw everyone off.
Janice raises an eyebrow at me. I arch one in return, then thrust my hand out, palm up.
Janice covers my palm in an instant, then Bonn and Wot move to join with their own. The hands of each Fae closes around the meat of my palm reminding me not all of Fae is out to kill me. Just most of it.
Deston lays a flat palm over Wot’s, joined by Jacques. In a flash, I move both hands to encase Deston’s and Jacques’ wrist in the torc of Kingship.
Bonn and Wot rear back, but I wake my will over them, forcing them into supplication on the flagstone floor. Janice steps back next to Cernunnos.
“What have you done?” Jacques sputters, his fear reeking from every pour as he yanks at his trapped arm.
“You fool, I told you she was bright for a changeling. Now you’ve killed us both.” Deston's whining sours with his weak tears.
Both stumble back, and Deston trips on the top stair, tilting Jacques off balance. Jacques grabs the torc bracelet and pulls with all his might to dislodge his arm from the circle.
The soft tenor of Cernunnos normal voice reverberates from over my shoulder. “How does it feel, Jacques, to be trapped by wild? I don’t feel the joy of conquest you felt when you trapped me. I never would have killed the white stag if I’d know it was our King. You tricked us all, but no more.” Cernunnos closes his tired eyes, then opens them afresh. “You cannot know all the parameters of any equations. Mine was my child. She came to right all your wrongs. Behold Danu’s revenge, your Queen Sarinah, my daughter, and granddaughter to Oberon himself.” Cernunnos’ words blast over the room with all the power of the once king of Fae.
I wait for the magic wakes to ease their changes. Then, I stand for the first time and leave the stone throne. I move up to the one-time princes of the realm and grab the torc and snap it in half.
Both princes instantly change, I listen to the pained cries as their legs turn back on themselves creating the cloven hooves of a stag. Fur rushes to cover the lower half of their torsos, while they bend in half with the forced growth of antlers. Each rack carries 14 points per side. When finally the changes ceased, two heads raise, and both stare at me through the multi-colored eyes of wild. Their faces are covered with the leaves of the forest, ever changing with the seasons and weather. The deep baritone of a black cavernous cave reaches me when their mouths open.
“I swear to you my Queen,” the echoed power of their fealty bounces around the space, thrusting Fae to the side with its superiority.
Wasting not one second, I say, “Behold your Kings, Jacques and Deston. They will hold the power of wild for all time. The deceit of Jack is over his hold over Fae broken. All who follow Jacques would be wise to let it go. I’ll win, I always win— it is what I was born to do.” I search the massive space and the many faces for Puca. He leans with his back against the doors, minus a shirt, but carrying a quiet smile of approval. He hitches his lips to the side in a half smile and gives me a mock clap.
The heavily crowded room falls like a wave to their knees in recognition. “I name Janice as Consort to the Crown and leader of the royal army.” With my proclamation, the fuzz on Janice’s chin grows into a double-braided goatee. “The human realm is closed to all Fae for all time. None may cross realms without my permission, save Puca. Brake this, and the punishment is an eternal test of iron and Fae. All humans are to be returned to the surface, save those with Fae in their blood. Changelings may choose to stay or go this one time.” I let my pronouncement ring before taking my seat again.
Surveying the many faces of Fae present, I find Puca again amongst the crowd. He mouths, “Well done, my child.” Then, he opens a portal to a space suspiciously like Sorenson's kitchen and is gone.
Lifting my hand to find Janice’s in my own, I give him a grateful smile and turn to face the realm I’d won.
CHAPTER 28
Fae spend a great deal of their time on pomp and bullshit. I’d be happy if everyone who wants to swear fealty just took a knee all at once, so I could be done with it. They at least came in groups, offering congratulations or fealty. There’s bored, and then there’s wishing I could see my veins open with a rotting piece of wood.
A
t last, the Fae twilight creeps up to darken the windows. Janice claps his hands announcing the end of court.
Fae filter out the doors to wander the corridors and Lavender closes the great door with a solid thud.
Lavender’s aura wakes exhaustion, every step compounding the weight. “Your Majesty, I have not had a chance to thank you for saving my brother.” I watch in fascination as Cernunnos crosses the room and takes her hand. Cernunnos smiles down at her and back up at me.
“Alice left in such a hurry I was unaware of her state or her fear. She was right to leave taking you with her,” he supplies.
Lavender’s smile shines with gratitude.
I sputter, “This is the prince? Cernunnos? He’s your brother?” I look from Lavender to Cernunnos and both nod in unison.
Cernunnos continues, “Our Queen threaten to rip all Fae from Alice’s blood if she stayed. I tried to soothe her fears, but the day of the hunt she disappeared in the forest and I became wild.”
I broke in, “But Lavender, you said Deston killed your brother.”
Neither Jacques or Deston look dead to me. Both stand to one side of the throne still as a statue, staring off into nothingness. Wild consumes them for anyone to see, filling their eyes with a kaleidoscope of colors. They neither speak nor move of their own accord since I broke the torc.
I can see the magic waking between the two torc halves; its only desire is to become whole again.
Cernunnos’ soft voice drifts to me, breaking into my thoughts. “To be wild is a death sentence, for when the queen fades the new cannot ascend while the king lives. Each king must be killed by the new queen.”
I pale. “But I didn’t kill you. You live. I pulled the spell’s hold over you and healed you,” I respond.
Cernunnos adds, “I would surely have died if you had not. What did you do to the torc before giving it to our new kings?” His face darkens at the reference to Jacques and Deston.
I remark with a shrug, “I made it bigger—it needed to slip over both wrists at the same time.”
Janice leans over, laying a kiss on my temple, raising my heart rate and temperature. I smile up at him, and he returns it with one of those rare smiles I always long for.