by Amy Sumida
“I'm over it. I am,” I added when their stares became dubious. “And I do love Lucifer as a friend. But I don't think that affection could withstand the pressure of a love affair. I'm not even sure I could allow myself to care for him more than I do now. It would feel... dirty.” I groaned. “Please, don't ever repeat that to him.”
“Of course not, El.” Gage took my hand and pulled me back toward him.
“Which means the Dragon is our best bet,” Declan grumbled.
“If Verin's willing to let her go when it's over,” Torin countered.
“We would have to make it absolutely clear to him beforehand,” Darc said. “But remember; if we can't repress the RS, we will need another lover for Elaria anyway, which would make Verin's ability to leave her a moot point.”
The men went grim and my stomach churned.
“No,” I said firmly. “I can't take any more lovers. It's too much. Where will it end? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? This has to stop now!”
Torin smiled softly at me. “There's the woman I fell in love with.”
“You heard your father; a suppression spell could result in restricting RS as a whole,” Darc reminded me. “Are you certain you wish to risk that?”
I could feel the RS listening.
“I don't want to lose her,” I admitted. “But repressing her would only cost us power. We can afford that.”
“Power and unity,” Banning countered. “This brotherhood we have,” he looked at the other men, “could disappear with the RS. Then what? We'd be left fighting over our wife; constantly at each other's throats.”
“I think we can agree that if that should happen, we would not take it out on each other,” Declan offered. “We are not savages.”
“We can say that now, but we don't know how we'll feel,” Gage said, surprising me.
Gage is the most easygoing of my men. Yes, he'd been hard to win over, to begin with, but once he came around, he was steadfast.
Gage settled his gaze on me and let me see the truth in it. Without the RS's influence, his Griffin nature—the instinct that told him to cling to his mate and defend her from all others—would rise and retake control. If we lost the RS, I might lose Gage. He wouldn't leave me; once a Griffin is mated, there's no turning back. But he might be driven to attack my husbands. Which meant that one of them might die.
Fuck. It was too horrible to even contemplate.
“This is all hypothetical,” my father said gruffly. “Speak with the Witch Leaders and ask them what can be done. Then you can argue all you want... hopefully somewhere else. Somewhere far enough away that I won't hear you talking about my daughter's sex life.”
“Sorry, Dad.” I stood. “We're going.”
“Thanks for coming to save me from your crazy boyfriend.” He stood as well and pulled me into a hug.
“Thanks for being quick to react,” I countered. “That could have gone a lot worse than it did.”
“I'd ask you to promise me to never pick me again in such a circumstance, but I know it wouldn't do any good. Only force you to lie to me.” Dad grimaced. Then he softened his voice and his expression, “But no matter what happens, Ellie-phant, know that we're proud of you. Every damn day.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I whispered.
“Now, get the hell out of my house and get your shit together.”
“Yes, Sir!” I saluted.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nigel Windthrope, my father's last surviving bestie, met us at the main door to the Witch stronghold on Coven Cay, a private island off the coast of Canada. He immediately pulled me into a warm embrace.
“It's good to see you, Elaria,” he said in a British accent.
I'd always thought that Nigel would make a great butler but in that Batman-sidekick kind of way. Despite the white streak in his ebony hair, he didn't look old, nor was he considered to be old by his fellow Witches even though he had a few centuries under his belt. But Nigel carried himself with the pride and distinguished composure of an accomplished Air Witch.
“It's good to see you too, Nigel.”
“The Leaders have convened for you.” Nigel waved us inside. “I've given them a brief overview of your needs and they are, even now, discussing ways to help.”
“Thank you. Will you join us?”
“If you wish it.” He led us down a long hallway and to a grand door carved with strange symbols. With a flourish that reinforced the butler image, he opened the door and waved us inside.
The room was vast. It had to be since it was occasionally used for meetings involving the entire Coven. Currently, though, there were only four people at the U-shaped council table; the Witch Leaders of each Elemental Family. Odin Earthshaker, the Leader of Earth, had one of his leather eye patches on and, combined with the dark hair he'd been growing out, he looked more pirate than witch. To his right were two women; Glinda Goodweather the Leader of Air, and Vivian Lake the Leader of Water. They looked as if they'd been chosen simply to be foils for each other's beauty. Glinda, with her vibrant red hair and lush curves, appeared passionately wild while Vivian's pale looks and slim body made her seem ethereally delicate. To Odin's left sat Osamu, the Leader of Fire. Osamu had the dark hair, trim build, and golden skin common to Japanese humans. He also had a somber but hopeful expression on his face.
“Welcome, all of you,” Glinda said. “Please, join us.”
We took seats on one of the vertical extensions that branched off of their horizontal stretch of table. Nigel sat with us.
“Nigel has told us of the Jinni in the Zone Lord and your growing problems with the Rooster Spell,” Odin began. “Let's address the Jinni first.”
“Any help you could give us would be appreciated,” Darc said.
“Frankly, we're baffled,” Vivian confessed softly. She usually spoke softly but never had a problem with being heard. “Jinn are not capable of possessing a Beneather.”
“And yet, one did,” Odin took over. “So, we must conclude that either, he's had some help, or our previous assumptions were wrong.”
I blinked. “I didn't consider that he might have had help. Who could give a Jinn the power to possess a Beneather?”
“A Witch could, if they were powerful enough,” Glinda said. “Other than that...” She shrugged. “It would be a complicated spell; one to increase the Jinni's power and protect him in spirit form, making him strong enough to fight Beneather magic within its host.”
“Slate was able to break free a couple of times,” I offered. “In fact, that's how I escaped him. He took over long enough for me to use my traveling stone.”
“You didn't tell us that,” Torin murmured.
“Yeah,” I whispered past the lump in my throat. “I wasn't ready to talk about it.”
“That's good.” Odin leaned forward onto his beefy forearms. “It means that Slate's magic may have a chance of expelling the Jinni, even without interference.”
“But I wouldn't count on that,” Osamu added. “Better to free him as soon as possible.”
“How?” I asked eagerly.
The Leaders looked at each other and then at me. It was Odin who answered.
“There's only one way to control a Jinn.”
My heart sank as I stared blankly at Odin, knowing exactly what he'd say next.
“You need his name.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“And how do you propose we get that?” I asked irritably.
“We were going to visit the Jinn Prince, maybe he can help us,” Banning suggested.
“The Prince will surely know how to acquire a Jinni's name,” Gage added hopefully.
“I wish you luck of it,” Odin said with far less hope. “I have no idea how to get a Jinni's name. There's no spell that can compel them to tell you.”
“You can't craft one?” I asked.
“Magic doesn't fix everything, Elaria,” Vivian said gently.
“I know that,” I said without bitterness. “I was just exploring every option.”
“I could work on such a spell for centuries and not be successful. A Jinn's name is tied up in his essence. It's...” Odin scowled and tried again. “Our bodies are controlled by our brains; that's a fact of nature. It's physical. But the Jinn aren't purely physical beings. Their brains work like ours do when they are in physical forms but their name has more of a sway upon them; it's like the brain of their soul. Their name controls them in every way; their actions, emotions, and will. Just as the body protects its brain with a skull, so does the soul protect its name with magic.”
“What about all those stories about sorcerers who force Jinn to give up their names and then enslave them?” Banning asked.
“They are just that; stories.” Vivian shook her head. “The dark dreams of spellcasters.”
“If the Jinni did possess Slate on his own, and even if he didn't”—Glinda grimaced—“it is now a problem for the entire Beneath.”
The Witch Leaders shared a heavy look.
“We need to destroy the Jinni and his possible cohort before others figure out that it can be done,” Osamu declared.
“And that brings us back to the issue of his name.” Odin sighed deeply. “Although I doubt we'll have much success, we will look into a way to acquire his name, Elaria, but let's move on to your other issue for now. The Rooster Spell is gaining power. Nigel reported that you wish to cast a suppression spell on it but one that won't repress its beneficial aspects.”
“Yes, can it be done?”
“We discussed it a little before you arrived,” Vivian said, “and, in theory, yes; it can be done.”
My men and I let out relieved breaths.
“But that is only theory,” Odin added gruffly. “It would be a difficult casting at best.”
“And we believe that it would take all four of us working together to accomplish it,” Glinda concluded.
“If you would undertake it, you would have the gratitude of three Shining One kingdoms,” Darcraxis declared. “And we would express that gratitude with a wealth of jewels.”
“Please”—Odin held up a hand—“you do not have to pay us. We are family.”
“It would be a gift,” Darc insisted. “Appreciation for your hard work.”
“As if you haven't toiled on our behalf.” Odin raised a brow; oddly enough it was over the eye patch.
“Half the time that was in response to trouble I brought your way,” I said with an affectionate grin.
“At least one of us owes you, Elaria,” Osamu said gravely. “I would take it as a personal favor if you would allow me to make recompense.”
I stared at Osamu a few moments and then nodded.
“This is all moot if we can't cast the spell,” Odin reminded us. “Let's not get distracted by trivial matters such as payment. We would not attempt it for promised wealth. We will try only because we care for Elaria.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. Then I strengthened my voice and looked at Osamu, “Thank you all.”
“Go to the Jinn,” Odin urged. “Hear what they have to say then return here. Hopefully, we'll have a plan in place by then.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There was no way to request a visit with the Royal Jinn Family or even warn them of our arrival. Well, there must be a way to communicate with them, but we didn't have access to it. The last time we'd been to Zuja, the Jinn planet, it had been the Jinn who contacted us by sending their prince as a messenger. Yes, their prince; the only heir to the Jinn Throne. Which tells you how desperate they'd been.
Because we'd given them no notice, we remained where we had arrived—in the middle of the courtyard before the palace—and stood still, making no aggressive movements while we waited to be approached. It didn't take more than a few seconds; the guards on door duty saw us arrive and rushed forward to confront us. Curved swords slid free of sheaths and eyes full of flames narrowed at us as demands were made in a language I didn't recognize but assumed was Jinn.
“I am Queen Elaria of Kyanite and these are my husbands,” I announced. “Please tell Their Majesties that we would like an audience.
I'd taken to calling Gage my husband just to make introductions easier. He didn't seem to mind. To a Griffin, the words mate and husband were practically the same thing, with mate ranking slightly higher.
The Jinn guards straightened in surprise and one of them ran back to the palace while the other stood his ground, keeping his sword lifted. Smart. Claims from strangers are meaningless until proven true; we could have been anyone. If my guards had let a bunch of unknown people into my castle simply because they claimed to be royalty, I'd have been pissed.
A few minutes later, Prince Saif himself strode out of the open doors with a wide grin plastered on his face. He opened his arms wide in welcome. “My friends! What an honor!”
The remaining guard sheathed his weapon and returned to his post as soon as his prince confirmed our identities.
“Your Highness,” I said with matching warmth. “Thank you for being so gracious about our unannounced arrival. I'm sorry; I had no way of requesting a visit.”
“Nonsense!” Saif embraced me then went on to embrace all of the men. “All of Zuja owes you a debt. You are most welcome in my home. Anytime. Please, come inside, my parents await us.”
Saif escorted us into a grand entry hall with nearly every inch of wall painted in detailed designs. Fretwork bordered the murals and their horizontal lines drew us deeper into the palace. The embellishment didn't stop there but got even more intricate as we progressed. Gold accented the murals, carvings hung like icicles in arched passages, and sunshine filtered through stained glass skylights. The tiled floor gleamed cobalt beneath lush rugs and potted trees added freshness to the air.
We followed the Jinn Prince deep into the palace, past several guards who stood at attention in vibrant uniforms, and then into a vast suite of rooms that I could only assume was the Royal Residence. At last, he brought us into a magnificent space of low couches and high ceilings, adorned with jewel-toned fabrics, gold fretwork, and silk carpets. Tall, slender, arched windows lined an entire wall, their diaphanous curtains undulating in the aromatic breeze. A collection of copper and stained glass lanterns hung from the ceiling on long chains but they remained unlit. Sunlight did a more than adequate job at lighting the entire room.
In the center of this, on a carved and gilded couch padded with cushions stuffed so full that they bulged like balloons, sat the King and Queen of Zuja. Their fiery, Jinn eyes managed to convey both peace and delight. King Baha stood to greet us then we all went to kiss Queen Sabah; my men on her hand and I on her cheek. Saif poured tea from a tall pot with a slim neck while his mother filled tiny plates with a sampling of sweets. The refreshments were set on the edges of the oval copper table between our seats then we sipped and nibbled and murmured nice things as my stomach tightened, begging for action. But royalty expects certain things of each other and if you happen to be a royal who wants a favor, playing the part is important. After the niceties were finally seen to, we got to the point.
“So, have you come to offer us a way to repay you, Spellsinger?” the King asked shrewdly.
“I dearly hope so, Your Majesty,” I said, earning a quizzical look from him. “I'm not certain you'll be able to help us.”
“What is it you require?”
“One of your people has a vendetta against my family,” I started. “He was involved with a woman named Petra Demos. She was a criminal; a particularly nasty one who enslaved and murdered people in addition to other terrible things. Her entire family ran a crime syndicate in the Beneath.”
“Fascinating,” Prince Saif noted. “Did you war with this syndicate?”
“We did,” Darc took over. “And we triumphed. However, Petra escaped us with the help of her lover. We found her eventually and killed her. To be honest, we did so brutally, in retaliation for her crimes.”
“I see,” the King murmured with a look at his wife.
Queen Sabah, a gor
geous, voluptuous woman with deep golden-brown skin and a wealth of hair that would make a mermaid weep, did not simper or shy away from the talk of violence. Instead, she nodded as if she understood it. Then she declared, “You killed a Jinn's lover. Do you know if he gave her his name?”
“He did,” Darcraxis confirmed. “He said as much when he vowed vengeance upon us.”
“Then he will not stop until either all of you or he is dead,” King Baha declared soberly. “He will see this vengeance as his sacred duty. The connection between named lovers is profound.”