Gwynedd stood over him, her eyes leaking darkness as she reached into her robes and drew out her knife. “Poor thing,” she said. “I should have known you would develop an attachment, but these people are not your friends. They are your oppressors.”
Morrow shook his head. “No, they aren’t.”
“They are. You have only forgotten.” She drew the knife across the skin of her forearm. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I will remind you.”
A familiar hunger boiled in Morrow’s chest. “Stop…” he said.
Gwynedd held out her arm. The blood ran black and thick down her wrist, and across her palm, before dripping to the floor. Morrow felt his legs moving on their own. He forced himself to look away as he pulled himself to his knees in front of her. His nostrils sought the iron smell of her blood. With shaking hands, he opened his mouth and moved to grasp her arm. She pulled it away.
“No, little prince,” she said, pointing to the floor. “From there.”
Morrow held out as long as he could, but the pool on the floor dragged him down. His back sagged, and he dove onto his stomach, lapping up the blood to the shrill accompaniment of his mistress’s laughter. He felt his mind go blank. His conscience fell away into shadow, overpowered by the cold, gripping certainty of anger and revenge. When it was over, he got to his feet, wiping the blood off his chin with his sleeve.
“Better?” Gwynedd asked.
“Yes,” he answered, picking up the pendant from the floor. “But you’ll need to make a small change to this.”
Learning Curve
Maddie staggered up the stairs to her room. As far as jobs went, she could imagine worse. Regular hours. Saturdays off. She even got a stipend. Her hand drifted to the wallet on her hip. It was made from shiny purple silk. In her usual tactful style, Maeve had refrained from giving it to her until after her first successful spell casting. No sense paying an apprentice that couldn’t perform. And she had.
The magic buzzed in her veins, leftover energy from the evening’s activities. She reached into her pocket and drew out the stone, a souvenir. She could still sense it: the hardness, the weight, the eons of pressure and time that brought about its form. It danced in her palm like a top, and she sent it whizzing around her head and back into her pocket.
Magic is, by far, the coolest thing ever, she thought.
They’d worked all the way through the night with only a brief pause for lunch, which they took in the lair. Now that the sun was coming up, Maddie was looking forward to crashing for a few hours.
Finn was waiting outside her door with his book bag.
“Busy night?” he asked.
Maddie led him inside, fully aware that she looked like a plague victim.
“You could say that,” she said. “Sorry about the mess.”
Finn glanced around the room. “What mess?”
Maddie swept her hands over her body.
Finn gave her a quick look up and down. “Don’t sweat it. Magic looks good on you.”
“Yeah, right,” Maddie said, cackling. “I heard the typhoid look is in Vogue.”
“What’s ‘Vogue’?”
Maddie flopped down onto her bed. “Nevermind.”
Finn sat at her dresser and produced a cloth satchel from his bag, which he unwrapped to reveal his breakfast. “Want a sandwich?” he asked. “You must be starving.”
Maddie lifted her head up. “What kind?”
“Grasshopper on rye.”
“Pickles?”
“Mhm.”
“Gimme.”
Finn handed it over, and Maddie chowed down. She didn’t even blink at the food anymore.
“I don’t understand how you can get up this early,” she said. “Cedric won’t start class for hours.”
He got out a second sandwich and took a bite. “What can I say? I’m a morning person.”
“Bull.”
“And I thought you might be lonely. You’ve been training with Maeve non stop for three days. You know what they say about all work and no play.”
“It’s not so bad,” Maddie said. “And you’re one to talk. Besides, I still see Rain in the evening when I have breakfast, and Kidhe got transferred to the night shift. We chat before he goes to work.”
Finn finished his sandwich and leaned back against the dresser. “I guess that’s fair enough. In any case, I don’t have much of a choice. The solstice festival is in three days, and there are a thousand preparations to make. The high-profile guests are driving my sister nuts.”
Maddie finished her sandwich and poured herself a glass of water from a jug beside the bed. She poured another for Finn. “Why are they so unruly?” she asked, handing him his glass.
“Just a lot political pressure. You met Delilah?”
“The ambassador from Aster?”
“That’s the one. She’s been leaning on everybody, doing her best to muck things up. We’re doing everything we can to keep her away from the others, but she goes out almost every night. Theresa wanted to put a tail on her, but Mom decided it would be impolite, so it’s anybody’s guess who she’s meeting with.”
“Sounds like trouble.”
Finn yawned and rubbed his eyes. “It’ll pass. The representatives are still on our side. How are your studies going?”
“It’s amazing,” Maddie said, fighting the urge to gush. “I’ve only been at it for a few days, but I’ve never been so excited about anything in my life. Watch.”
She pulled the stone back out and sent it spinning into the air. It buzzed around like a fly before coming to rest on the nightstand.
“It’s coming so naturally now,” she said. “Ever since I got back from the deep Veil. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before. Thanks for convincing me to give it a try.”
“My pleasure.”
He gathered his things and stood up with a tired groan. “I should get going. Theresa wanted to meet before class. Something about decorations.”
“Decorations?” Maddie asked.
Finn put up his hands. “I don’t know. But she seemed to think it was important. Royalty’s not all fanfare and fancy parties, I guess.”
Maddie stood up and gave him a hug. “Thanks again, and thank you for coming to visit.”
The door opened suddenly to reveal Ebba standing outside. “Miss Maddie,” she said, “I’m here to pick up your laundr—” Her eyes blew up to the size of dinner plates. “Y-y-your highness!” she stammered, bowing.
Finn let go of Maddie and headed for the door, patting Ebba on the head as he left. “See you later,” he said.
Maddie waved. “Later.”
Ebba shut the door behind him, turned, and pressed her back against it in shock. “Oh. My. God,” she said.
“What?” Maddie asked as she changed into her pajamas.
Ebba cracked the door open and glanced into the hall before shutting it again. “Maddie. The prince likes you!”
Maddie gave her a doubting look. “No way,” she said. “Ebba, we’re just friends. He was coming to visit me, that’s all. We hardly see each other anymore.”
Ebba stomped over and grabbed her hands. “Maddie, you’re not a faerie, so I get it if you don’t understand, but do you really think that the prince is getting up every day at sunrise to swing by for breakfast for no reason?”
Maddie shook her hands loose and went to her dresser to brush her hair. It had grown significantly since she’d come to the Veil and was becoming more and more difficult to contend with. “You’re reading too much into it,” she said. “Finn and I have been friends for almost a month. If he had feelings for me, he would have asked me out, or at least said something.”
Ebba rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, you are so clueless! Maddie!”
“What?!”
The faerie girl took a breath. “Alright,” she said. “As your official professor of faerie studies, I’ve decided that it’s time you got the talk.”
Maddie furrowed her brow. “The talk?”
Eb
ba jumped up to grab the brush out of Maddie’s hands and set it aside. “Come on,” she said. “We’re going to find Rain.”
The Birds and the Bees
Maddie stood with her arms crossed. “It’s not funny,” she said. Rain was practically rolling on the floor.
Ebba sat on a stool with her elbows propped up on the table, smiling triumphantly. “Told you.”
They’d found Rain in the old kitchen, planning out the schedule for her staff. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fought to catch her breath. She looked at Maddie, steadying herself, and started laughing again.
“Would you stop that!?” Maddie said.
Rain put up a hand and took another moment to recover herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess it was inevitable. I mean, you’re the right age. So are they. You’re new and exotic, and the fact that you’re training to become a witch certainly doesn’t hurt. They probably can’t help themselves.”
Maddie leveled her voice. “What do you mean, ‘they?’”
“Finn and Kidhe, of course.”
“What about Kidhe?”
Rain clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress another laugh, pausing to go to the sink, where she filled a glass of water. “Kidhe is the captain of the wardens,” she said, taking a sip. “No one can transfer him anywhere. He moved himself to the night shift.”
Maddie stared, dumbfounded.
“Maybe you should sit down,” Ebba said, pulling her onto a stool.
“I don’t believe it,” Maddie said. “They’re just my friends. That’s all.”
Rain brought her a glass of water. “You just have to understand our culture. Faeries are just as varied as humans are, but you’ve got to remember that deep down we aren’t humans. We’re not driven by the same instincts.”
“And what do you mean by that?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Rain said, taking a seat. “How about this? If you met a guy you liked and you got the feeling he liked you, would you go up to him and ask him out?”
Maddie pondered the question for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said. “Are we friends already, me and this theoretical guy?”
Rain shrugged and said, “Sure.”
Maddie massaged her forehead. She was so tired. Why did she let Ebba drag her down here? “I guess. Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve never felt that way about anyone.”
“Why not?”
Maddie gave an exasperated shrug. “Look, I really don’t know. I guess I always expected that the right man would be charming or something.”
“Waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet?” Rain asked. Maddie gave her an impatient stare. “Okay, maybe that’s a little old fashioned,” said Rain, “but the point is, you imagined he would to come to you, right?”
“Not necessarily.”
Rain waved her hands. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s a modern world. You’ll go for it if the circumstances are right, but the expectation in human culture is for the guy to make the first move. Here in the Veil, it’s the opposite. Faerie men don’t just walk up to women and ask them out. They expect us to approach them. They flirt, give signals, and make themselves available, but what they’re trying to say is, ‘If you asked, I would say yes’.”
Maddie groaned and put her head down on the table. Her forehead thumped gently against the wood. “So, what do I do?” she asked.
“Well, are you interested?”
Maddie tilted her head up. “I don’t know,” she said, resting on her chin.
Ebba practically flipped the table. “You don’t know?! We’re talking about the prince here!”
Maddie turned to her with a frustrated look. “That’s enough!”
“But come on! It’s not fair!”
Rain walked around the table and gave Ebba a hug. “Don’t worry. I’m sure someday you’ll have your own royal bachelor to run down,” she said. “Maddie, you’re just going to have to decide what you want to do. Just remember that the festival is coming up, and if you don’t ask the two of them out, some other girl will come along and steal them out from under you. Understand?”
“I guess,” Maddie mumbled. She paused, squinted, and looked up at Rain. “What do you mean, ‘the two of them?’”
Rain had an ear-to-ear grin plastered across her face, and Ebba giggled.
Maddie’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Rain replied.
“I can date them both?”
“Duh!” Ebba said. “How else are you supposed to decide which one you like better?”
“But that’s crazy!”
“No, that’s our culture,” Rain said, correcting her gently. “Matriarchal society has its perks. Look, there’s no pressure. It’s not like they’re going to hate you if you decide not to date them. They’re not jerks; they’re grown men. I’m sure they’d be happy to stay friends. You just have to decide if you want more.” Pots and pans began to clatter in the next room. “That’ll be my staff,” she said. “I’ve got to get to work. Will you be okay?”
Maddie hopped off the stool. “I’ll muddle through. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
Ebba took Maddie back to her room, and Maddie collapsed into bed.
“Hey, Maddie?” Ebba said, pausing in the door before she left.
Maddie pulled up her blankets and shut her eyes. “Yes?”
“The prince!” she whispered, giving a little squeal before dashing out the door.
Maddie rolled her eyes and buried her face in her pillow. The last thing she needed right now, on top of her new job and the whole business with the Foxglove, was two suitors waiting with bated breath for her to make some kind of romantic overture.
Two days, she thought. That’s all I want. Two days in a row without any complications. Is that so much to ask?
It was an interesting idea, though. Two boyfriends. The faeries sure had their quirks. And it wasn’t as though the notion didn’t have an appeal. Breakfast with Kidhe, dinner with Finn, flying lessons on Tuesdays, royal excursions on alternating Thursdays. She would need a day planner, or possibly a secretary.
The prince and the pilot. It sounded like some kind of new age fairy tale. Maddie just wanted to know how she’d managed to walk right into the middle of it without realizing. Rain said that she would have to decide if she wanted more, but frankly, she wasn’t sure she could take more of anything. Her life was full.
And yet she couldn’t help but wonder how many times her mother had come to the same conclusion. Ten times? A hundred? Until one day, she ran off and married her father on… what, a whim? Maddie had never asked about the beginning of their relationship. All she knew was how it ended, with her mother far, far away and her father raising a child alone.
It wouldn’t be fair, she thought, as her fatigue pulled her gently down to sleep. The men would have to wait. If there was one thing she still had control over, it was that.
Matriarch
“You want me to do what?” Maddie asked, storming across the room. She picked up her brush and tugged it through her hair.
Rose gave her a pleading look. It was strange to see it on her otherwise dignified features. “Please don’t be mad.”
“Mad? Why would I be mad?”
“You have to understand the position I’m in,” Rose said. “There was nothing I could do.”
Maddie glanced over her shoulder. “So, you offered me up?”
Rose slid in between Maddie and her wardrobe. “I didn’t offer you up,” she said. “Think of it as a royal invitation. You know how important this review is, and I’m not asking for much. Just come to dinner and talk about your experiences. I wouldn’t ask you if it weren’t important.” She went to the edge of the bed and sat down, fidgeting.
“Rose, what’s happening?” Maddie asked.
The queen took a quick breath and stilled her hands. “Politics, of course.”
“You mean Delilah?”
“She’s gaining ground,” Rose said. “It’s n
ot much, but little by little, she’s chipping away at my support. These sorts of things have tipping points. If she can get enough people to come around, the others will change their minds just to avoid ending up on Aster’s bad side. I’ve been arguing with Delilah all morning.” She put her hands up, flapping her fingers as she spoke in a snooty voice. “A palace and a few guards do not a country make.”
“How is she doing it?” Maddie asked.
“Taxes, mostly,” Rose replied.
“Taxes?”
Rose massaged the back of her neck. “It’s just as boring as it sounds. As an independent nation, we don’t have to pay taxes or tributes, not to a parent government or anyone else. If the other kingdoms don’t certify our independence, Amaranth and all its territories would be folded back into Aster. We would have to start paying taxes to them again, and they can promise a portion of them to other nations in exchange for their votes.”
“Sounds like a bribe to me,” Maddie said.
Rose sighed out a weak laugh. “Well, they call it tribute, and that’s why I need your help. You’re a symbol.”
“Of power?”
Rose shook her head. “No. We haven’t told anyone about what you are, and we don’t intend to, but you are a symbol of the fact that this kingdom can stand on its own, that we can protect not only our own subjects but also…” She trailed off as she searched for the word.
“Foreigners?” Maddie suggested.
Rose flicked her hand towards her in agreement. “Exactly. None of them believe we’ll actually go to war over recognition. They’re focused on the numbers, like it’s all nothing more than a business exchange. But Amaranth can’t win in a bidding war. I need something that speaks to their hearts.”
Maddie walked to the wardrobe and pulled out her witching robe. The sun would be going down soon, and she still had to find some breakfast before heading over to Maeve’s.
“Would you?” Maddie asked. “Go to war over recognition?”
Rose stood up and opened to the balcony door, staring out at the city. “Truthfully, I don’t know. I sometimes wonder if this was always their plan. You never know with faeries. When monarchies last for hundreds of years, the game can get pretty long. It might have been a ploy from the start, to let us go off on our own, avoid the expense of establishing a new territory, and then yank it all back a century later. I guess I always figured that when the time came, I would have more allies to call on. I love leading this city, but I’m not sure it’s worth my citizens’ lives.”
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