by Nikki Frank
“You’re going to work in the court of Prince Tezky.”
“What?” he screeched. “He’ll kill me.”
“He has no memory of you. I’ve seen to that. Tomi can tell you exactly what the modifications to Tezky’s memories entail. But I know it includes removing you from our presence and getting you a position in the palace. You’re going to be our spy. Tomi and I are the only ones who know about this. You are to contact only the two of us. I’ll let you figure out the contact method once you’re settled. Pick something which looks natural.”
“I don’t know how to spy,” he whimpered.
I took his shoulders and stood him upright. “I don’t trust Tezky. You need to warn us if he tries anything.”
“There’s the treaty. Isn’t it signed in blood?”
“Yes, but the craftiest individuals are the best at finding ways around anything that stands in their way. And Tezky is as crafty as they come.”
“My own safety?”
“You can seek asylum with any of the akuma lords.” I squeezed his shoulders. “Please, Bazyli? You risked so much to save your kind. I know you have the bravery, and you need to keep them living in safety.”
He blushed and focused on the floor. “There you go, looking all pretty and forcing me to agree again. I can’t say no to that face.”
“Good.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Go to Tomi’s quarters. He’ll get you to his province in the safety of his entourage. And good luck.” I paused then hugged him. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. You’re a good man.”
Bazyli stumbled out of the room, looking as pink as his gray skin would allow.
Chapter 27
Our flight to the glass palace took only a couple hours. The whole way welcomed me with familiar views of the autumn shoreline. Somehow, I’d missed the last of summer. Velor circled down to my private terrace. A solitary figure waited in the late-afternoon sun. Talon.
Katriane went straight to Talon and hugged him tightly. I hung back, feeling alone. I didn’t want to spoil their moment, but . . .
Talon reached out and poked the tip of my nose. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Really?”
He smiled and laced an arm through mine. “Really. Just so you know, I’ve been well-paid for this.”
Confusion set in as he led me across my personal chambers and down the hallway. He stopped in front of one of the guest rooms.
“Hopefully, this brings a smile to your face, for real.”
He and Katriane stuffed me inside the room and shut the door behind me. I blinked around in amazement. The guest room had been transformed into a gorgeous nursery. Bright colors sparkled everywhere, picking up the hues within the palace walls. In the center of this stood Iya.
“Surprise.” He smiled hopefully.
“You did this?”
He nodded. “When you left the night of the trial, I knew another conversation wasn’t going to cut it. Talking probably would have turned into an argument. So, I came back here to do something real.”
My eyes filled, and I blinked back tears. “I thought you left me for your palace.”
“I did, to arrange for Mother to rule my province for the time being. I want to stay here with you and the baby. Putting a province in order for an extended absence isn’t easy.”
“Why did you stay away so long?”
“I knew I’d spoil the surprise. I’m really excited about this now.” He came over and knelt in front of me, kissing my belly on the little rise that hinted at things to come. “I love you, baby. Sorry Daddy took so long to say so.”
He kept his hands on my sides as he stood, then brushed a kiss on my lips. “I love you, Livy. I’m so sorry if you ever felt otherwise.”
Happiness and relief all poured out with my tears. He kissed my forehead and brushed away the tears. His hand slid down my shoulder, stopping on my growing belly.
“There’s no two people in this world more beautiful to me than my family.”
“Family . . .” My eyes refilled with tears.
Iya ran a finger over them, drying them, then kissed each eyelid. “Don’t be sad. You aren’t alone anymore. You are growing your own family. You have our baby and me. You are in a family, and your family is in you. Here,” he placed a hand on my belly, “and here.” He placed his hand on my heart.
I reached up and stroked his cheek. “I love you, Iya.”
“You mean that?” His voice was nearly inaudible, as if when he spoke, he might break some spell.
“From the bottom of my heart.”
~ ~ ~
I turned in front of the mirror and admired the dress Elita had sent me for my birthday, a pretty but impractical sundress. The note said she’d designed it herself. Outside, the red sun shone, but the temperature stayed chilly. In the Borderlands, our calendar started on the spring equinox. But that wasn’t for another month, so this last month of the year was simply called the Fading Month. I liked the human name February better.
Iya came up behind me and kissed my ear. “You look ravishing.”
“I’m going to freeze.”
“I’ll keep you warm.” He nibbled at my neck as he said this.
“Not during the birthday festivities with the whole district watching, you won’t.”
“Oh, yes I will.”
He started at my shoulders and ran his hands slowly down my arms, then brought them back up and did the same across my chest. After a quick wash of Iya’s magic, he pointed to the mirror. I wore a sweater made of something heavenly soft and beautifully silver.
“I told you I’d keep you warm,” he purred. “You should really get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Iya.” I gave him a playful slap to the shoulder.
“What?”
Someone tapped at the door. “Come in.”
“Good morning, Mistress Olivia.”
I looked up, into the mirror and saw West, a satyr who held an administrative position in my household, standing behind me.
“Yes?” I asked. His hesitation and body posture had me on instant alert. “Spit it out.”
“There’s trouble in the nursery.”
“Again?” I threw up my hands. “Now what?”
“I think you should see for yourself.”
West led the way, and Iya tagged close behind me.
“I told you Halcyon was the wrong name for a demon child,” Iya said.
“If you don’t mind my asking, sir, why not?” West interjected.
“I hoped by calling him Halcyon, we could bring a little peace into his life,” I answered. “You know, the power of suggestion and all.”
“Suggestion of what?” West asked.
The satyr had only come of age a few months after me and was new to my service. Lord Feéroi employed his parents and recommended him. He worked as a clerk, but the position was wasted on him. I could already tell, I’d be promoting him shortly.
“It’s Earth lore,” I explained. “A halcyon is a mythical bird which calms and brings peace to the seas.”
Iya snorted. “He’s half-demon and half-you, no name in the world is going to counteract his breeding.”
“What are you implying?” I asked in mock offense.
“Your malevolent tendencies as an imp ride fairly close to the surface. No wonder the demon magic made a contract with you so easily. Cyon behaves accordingly. Closer to a full demon than anything else.”
We’d reached the nursery, and I opened the door hesitantly. His nanny stood over the crib, looking near to tears. Her hair smoked, completely blackened. From in the crib, Cyon’s wails went untended.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“He wanted milk, and I wasn’t fast enough.” The har
assed-looking dryad sobbed. “Now he’s refusing anything.”
I went over to the crib and peeked inside. Even after eleven months, the adorableness of my own child amazed me. He had pale-orange skin, soft red-flame hair, and my own brown eyes. He had tiny bat-like wings like Iya, but his little tail ended in a heart-shaped tip like mine. For now, he had no horns, but Iya said those were something which grew in during adolescence. We’d have to wait and see whether he was horned like his father or not. But so far, he was the perfect blend of us both.
His round cheeks plumped into a two-fanged grin when he saw me. Pulling himself up to stand, he waved tiny hands in my direction, gurgling.
“Cyon,” I said in mock seriousness, “You’ve been giving nanny Yuzu trouble again. Why are you such a naughty boy?”
Iya plucked him out of the crib and tossed him into the air, making him scream with delight and fan his little wings. “He’s naughty because he has no one to play with. I warned you a baby akuma would need a sturdy playmate, and early, too. He’s going to keep beating up on Yuzu if you don’t take care of this.”
I fretted and nibbled at my lip. “I don’t know. He’s only half akuma. What if we get him a shi kitten and it’s too rough?”
“I might have a solution,” West jumped in. “Ferika and Omri will be attending the brunch as your guests this morning. I could have their child . . . Vada?”
“Zada,” I corrected.
“Yes, Zada. I could have her brought to the nursery for a trial playdate. If the two youngsters were to prove compatible, perhaps she would make an appropriate companion for Cyon.”
Iya ran a hand through his orange-flame hair. “That might work. Sphinxes are a sturdy breed, and she’s a year older than Cyon. It might give her the needed edge.”
“I love that idea. Why didn’t I think of that?”
After breakfast, I went back to the nursery. We’d sent Zada up as soon as she arrived. Poking my head in, I was met with a very different sight from the usual. Yuzu sat quietly in a rocker, and Cyon and Zada played on the floor. Okay, so they were throwing blocks at each other’s heads using magic, but it was the calmest I’d seen Cyon in a while.
“We found our pair.” Iya kissed the back of my neck.
~ ~ ~
Agma, Tomi, and Shandian chattered on one side of the long table set for my birthday dinner. On the other, the Lord High Governor, Kessit, and Drix sat sociably dining. Even Caiwyn, a representative from the Elvenwold, joined the banter. Somehow my twentieth birthday seemed a culmination of my efforts. We had peace. I no longer had a regent. Being at the reins of my own life carried a great deal of satisfaction. The demon lords were slowly accepting Cyon’s innocuousness, as well as my pair bond with Iya.
But like a house of cards, peace can be easily toppled. Dinner began amiably enough. But as the meal progressed, Feéroi abstained from the conversation. This drew my attention to shared glances between Kessit and Drix.
“Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?” I cut through the conversation, throwing pointed stares at the guilty parties. No one answered, instead avoiding my gaze.
Shandian leaned an elbow on the table, speaking loudly. “They’re too soft on you. They’re avoiding telling you what we’ve decided regarding the little beast in your nursery.”
“Excuse me?” I snarled.
He turned a derisive look on me. “I say ‘beast’ because you and Iya aren’t even of the same magic family tree. What exactly is he?”
My stomach burned. I grit my teeth at the same time Iya let out a growl.
Shandian shrugged him off. “Be mad at me if you like, but you know what the prevailing sentiment toward half-breeds is. What do you intend to do, keep your little mutt cooped up in your palace? Because as soon as he hits the wider world, he’s going to face this from every magic creature.”
Shandian crossed his arms and gave me a superior look. “You may believe since your people love you, and you love your child, that they will love him for your sake. But I’m afraid that’s not the case, my dear.”
“Why are you so against Cyon?” I asked, fighting back tears. “Did you come to my birthday celebration to make me miserable? I know tormenting me is a favorite pastime of yours.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t give you a second thought, except when you are an inevitable part of a political opportunity such as this. Do you think I would miss a dinner with all the heads of state? As for your offspring, I’m only making a point. I suggested you abort him way back at the beginning. But you insisted on birthing him, to what end, I’m sure I don’t know. But I know you’ll do whatever you want regardless of the consequences. So, pair him off with something strange and breed your own menagerie. But . . .”
I trembled with rage at this point. The urge to rip Shandian’s head off rolled over me with a vengeance. Iya put a steady hand on my shoulder.
“But what?” Iya asked, jaw tight.
Feéroi stood, waving Shandian back. His antennae twitched nervously. “Through some correspondence, it’s been decided that Cyon should be raised on Earth. The joint council has drawn up a contract with the terms of his exile.”
“Exile?” I shrieked. “Why?”
Iya let out a snarl. “Since when does official correspondence leave out two of the lords on the joint council?”
Agma sniffed disdainfully. “Since they decided to birth and raise a freak.”
“Hush,” Feéroi admonished. “We’re trying to avoid an incident, not start one.”
“What incident could Cyon start?” I challenged.
Feéroi shot me a soothing, paternal look. “Not everyone sees him as a potential threat. In fact, most don’t anymore. Cyon just happens to represent a rift in our newfound unity. Regardless of how I feel about the boy, I can’t let him destroy this council. Others have threatened to leave if measures weren’t taken.”
“What sort of measures?” Iya’s voice crackled with displeasure.
“Sending him to Earth was a compromise,” Kessit said timidly. “My idea, actually. He’s half imp, after all.”
“And the other options were?” Iya continued to threaten with his tone.
“Killing him,” Agma said bluntly.
“Or binding his power,” Feéroi hurried to mediate. “Both of which weren’t solutions since they were more likely to start a war.” His words and glares carried a warning to Agma and Shandian. “Kessit kindly suggested sending the boy to Earth instead. There he won’t have access to demon thrones or any other means of political power. Earth becomes a political neutral zone.” He gave me a hopeful smile.
“But . . .” I thought of his round cheeks and swallowed a lump in my throat. “My baby . . . all the way on Earth.”
Tomi shifted, lacing and unlacing his fingers. “We understand he’s an infant. Respecting that, we’ve tried to keep the terms reasonable.”
Iya snorted in disgust.
Feéroi ignored him. “Iya, you and Olivia will be allowed to visit as often as you like. However, you will not be allowed outside the house Cyon is residing in. The council agrees that if you were unable to leave the home, other demons wouldn’t be able to claim you visit Earth to indulge demon appetites. But visitation will have to occur with a frequency which won’t disrupt the functions of their thrones or this council, of course.”
I choked back snarling responses with my tears. What had my allies allowed to happen? The injustice boggled my mind.
“As for Cyon’s stay,” Feéroi continued, “he will reside on Earth until he comes of age. On his nineteenth birthday, Lord Tomi will conduct an evaluation of Cyon and any threats he might continue to pose. Further restrictions, limitations, or adjustments will be made at the time of judgment. Including the possibility of Cyon returning home to take employment in the Borderlands if the threat is
gone.” Feéroi shot me a smile like he’d done me some great favor.
Tomi inclined his head slightly. “This was acceptable to both the akuma lords and the lords of the Central Borderlands.”
Shandian tapped his fingertips together just under his chin, eyes glinting. “Should anyone be foolish enough to try bringing the little creature home before his allotted time has been played out, they will receive punishment at the discretion of the joint council. Rest assured, we’d make sure the consequences were plenty harsh.”
Tomi cleared his throat. “I believe my fellow lord meant to say ‘appropriate.’ Any punishment for violations of this contact would be appropriate to the breach.” He waved a hand to pull the contract out of the air. “If these terms are acceptable, please sign.”
“It’s not okay with me.” I pleaded with Feéroi using my eyes. Verbally begging would only lower me further in the eyes of the reluctant lords.
His return smile brimmed with kindness. “You’ll separate from him a little at a time, my dear. For the time being, I think we can spare you several days a week for visits.”
Iya put his arm around me and squeezed me close. “This might not be so bad. We know Cyon is no threat. All he needs is the chance to prove himself―like you did. Only a couple years ago, people thought the notion of an imp as a demon lord was ridiculous. But you’ve changed their minds with your actions. What we need to do is raise Cyon in such a way that he can do the same when Tomi does his evaluation.”
I rubbed tears dry on his chest, not caring that he wore his formal, silk, akuma tunic. “This is bad. How can you say it’s not?”
Iya kissed my hair. “I’m just looking for the silver lining. Besides, living on Earth would be good practice for him.”
“Practice for what?” I asked.
“For taking over your throne.”
“What?” I yelped in unison with most of the other lords.
“We’ve talked about this already.” Iya spoke only to me. “I don’t want him killing either of us for power. You never really wanted to be a demon lord. If we raise Cyon to rule, you can hand over your throne peacefully whenever you feel he’s ready.” He glared around at the other lords. “This ought to help quell worries of him taking a throne by force.