by Rebecca Grey
“You’re just now trying that out?”
“Yes, well, apparently it’s a lot harder to have friends now that I’m not actually heir to a throne. And real friends are a lot more work.”
“So that’s what you were doing all day. Working.”
“Exactly.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket, holding an apple, and polished it against his sleeve. With one hand, he offered it to me.
Grateful, I took it with a nod. A snack was certainly needed before I tried to push myself any further today. Juice flooded my mouth as I took a small bite of the apple. The fruit had been cool despite the heat of the day. I wondered if it was Dace’s doing. Through my full mouth, I asked, “Where would you like to begin?”
“Behind the barn perhaps. Keeps us out of view from the rest of the castle.”
“Right,” I say slowly, petting one of the horses' noses that poked out of their stall as I walked by, and pocketed the rest of my apple.
Dirt and hay crunched under Dace’s feet as he followed me. He hummed an unfamiliar tune as he went, something surprisingly cheerful. Behind the barn, as he had pointed out, I wasn’t able to see the castle anymore. Just the one side of the light colored barn wall and the expanse of manicured lawn on the other side. It was just the two of us. And that alone was a little bit scary.
Dace kept his distance, which did reassure me a bit, and stood against the wall watching me. The sun was nearly gone, just an orange blur above the distant forest. Stars were already appearing through the latticework of the clouds.
“What are you doing?” I asked, pacing slowly through the grass. Dew was already setting in as the wind blew in the evening chill.
“Looking at you,” he bowed his chin, keeping his eyes trained on me with a coy smile.
I scoffed, turning away so he couldn't see the blush creeping up my neck. This is about more than just a handsome boy, Ryker. If I kept telling myself that, then maybe I could make it feel more real.
“Oh, so now I’m not allowed to look at you?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“True. You don’t say anything. So I guess I’ll take it as an invitation to keep on looking then.”
Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms, I planted myself in one spot. “Let’s get this going. I need to get some sort of sleep tonight. Would you like to start, or shall I?”
“Ladies first,” Dace motioned for me to start. “What exactly are you working on now?”
“I--” I started.
“No, show me.” He leaned forward with a stone-cold seriousness. A daring glare.
“Fine,” I laughed, waving my palm in front of me.
Rock shifted under the earth, layers of soil, rock, and rooted plants peeled away. Under Dace’s feet a hole appeared, dropping him out of sight with a quiet yelp.
He reappeared at my side, shaking his head, his arms crossed over his chest. “That was awfully cruel of you,” he paused as I smiled, then continued with, “Nice move, must come mostly natural to you. But people like me don't fall for it. Or they have the opportunity to grab ahold of the edge, climb right out of your little hole.”
“Not if I cover it up.” Another wave of my hand and the rock and grass melded back together as it once was.
“In a real fight, you’ll be too busy to close up every hole you open.” Dace walked slowly, circling me like he was trying to examine me from all angles.
I put my hand out to stop him. “Not if I get really good at it.”
“Oh, you’ll get good at it. Just not quite yet.” He grabbed my hand, lifting my arm over my head, then gave me a twirl like we were dancing again. He pulled me against his chest, my back against him and his mouth next to my ear. “You need to go for the kill.” One finger trailed over my neck like a knife.
“Any suggestions?” I untangled myself from him with a sigh.
“Maybe instead of creating a hole, you create a mountain.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” A strong wind blew across the lawn, ruffling the loose material of our shirts.
“Not like a big one. Think little. Think quick. Think sharp, like a spike.” His fingers met at a small point in front of him as an example. The tiniest crinkle of his nose made me think that he was pulling this all right out of his ass. Maybe he was. Most likely, he was.
“Like this?” Inhaling, I imagined rock spiking up out of the ground. I fisted my hand. Cracking and crunching met my ears, and I opened my eyes to find a skinny slab of earth in the thinnest, sharpest, pyramid I’d seen. It hit about Dace’s height, and he looked at it, unimpressed.
“That took too long,” he said mildly. “Faster. This time, keep your eyes open.”
“Fine,” I growled, annoyed by how blasé he was being. This was hard, and I had done it rather quickly for it being new. He was lucky I didn’t knock him over with an accidental earthquake in my effort.
Keeping my eyes open, I shifted my gaze from him to the ground. I closed my fist and earth rose between us. Dace rushed forward, stomping it with his foot before it could build to anything more.
“Faster,” he snapped.
I ground my teeth together and closed both hands. Sharp pillars began to rise on either side of him. His fist burst through one, his foot kicking through the other. Neither fast enough to beat his speed. But it wasn’t just his speed I was trying to beat, I was trying to beat all of the fae just like him.
Heat flooded my body as my annoyance shifted to anger. So I tried again. This time with feeling. I closed one fist, a pillar rose and was shattered at the end of Dace’s fist. Again. Closed a fist. Earth climbed over earth, sharp and angry, to the same end. Pebbles fell like a small hail storm.
My fist caught the air like I was snatching something up. Then I did it again with the other. Back and forth I went as Dace became a flurry of kicks and punches, slicing through everything I was creating.
Wind blew again, cooling the thin sheen of perspiration that was breaking out over my skin. But it couldn’t calm my temper. Why was he being so hard on me? Wasn’t this only lesson number one?
“Stop,” I growled, yanking my fist through the air, “Doing.” My fingers curled into my palm. “That.”
“Why?” Dace taunted. “Does this upset you?” He spun around, kicking down the spike that I pulled up behind him.
“I said, STOP,” I shouted, pulling both my fists to my sides. Spikes erupted like wildflowers around him, two touching his chest, and one pressed against his back.
His hands wrapped around the two stone pillars before him and he leaned into them. “That’s it! Get mad, babe.” Rock crumbled between his fists.
I sighed, wiping the back of my hand across my sweaty forehead, “I think that’s enough.”
“Why? You were just starting to get good,” he laughed, slipping through the remains of the rock. “Although in a real life situation, you want to aim for the rock to impale them. But I do appreciate you not doing that to me.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be training, too? Your turn. Do a fancy little trick for me.” I spun my finger in the air. Show me what you got, Dace, I challenged him back.
“I am not.” he disappeared in one blink, reappearing next to me and sweeping his leg under me.
“A.” My body toppled backwards through the air, my arms reaching for where he had been, but no longer was.
“Show pony!” He appeared where he had started and watched me land on my butt in the grass. He was mocking me, that asshole.
“Cool,” I said. Pushing off the ground, I stood and dusted my legs off. “Now try that again with something in your hands.” I tried to look bored, like Dace so often did, as I pulled the apple out of my pocket and tossed it to him.
“Well, if I put it in my pocket,” he slipped it into his pants and disappeared. His voice erupted over my shoulder as he pulled the apple back out. “Not a single problem.”
“But..” I said slowly.
“But, if I hold it in my hands.” He gripped the apple and disappe
ared. Only the entire thing didn’t disappear. A small sliver of the apple was shaved off and the majority of the apple fell and rolled in the lawn. Dace stood next to me. His shoulder rose and fell in a shrug as he held up the slice of apple and bit into it.
“I would hate to be that apple.” We stared at the ground together for a moment. At some point he was going to have to carry something bigger than an apple. Bigger than the tiny slice he was chewing up right now.
Stepping through the slick dew, I bent down and picked up the apple remains. Red flew through the air and landed in Dace’s quick hands. “Try again,” I pointed at the apple. “But faster.”
“My powers aren’t fueled by my emotions, like yours,” he laughed, gently tossing the apple back and forth between his hands. “Making me mad won’t help me to improve.”
“Then what helps motivate you?”
Dace licked his lips and tilted his head. He took a step toward me. The air next to him shimmered and he turned quickly. Jesseline appeared, hair mussed like she had been laying in bed, and her clothing sloppily thrown on.
“You have a visitor, Dace.” Her hand rose to point toward the castle.
Her words took a moment to register. Our smiles slowly faded from our faces, replaced with concern and mild curiosity. Together we jogged around the barn. At the bottom of the long flight of stairs a dark figure waited, masked by the gloom of the sunless sky.
ELEVEN
Dace
Worry seeped through Ryker’s features as she rounded the barn. The figure at the end of the path couldn’t be made out at this distance in the night. The visitor was shadowed and a towering worry at the end of the path.
Jesseline walked between us, her voice low, “He is an assassin from our guild, but not one who works under the same people as us. I wouldn’t trust him to get within arms distance of you.”
The sounds of the night; hooting owls, croaking frogs, and chirping insects, felt muted now that my heartbeat filled my ears. I tried not to think too hard about how, from where we stood, the outline reminded me of an old ghost story my parents used to tell me about burgundy witches. It felt like they had brought them back from extinction to hunt me down now. As we neared, purple hair and deep, navy-blue eyes came into view. I couldn’t remember a name, but his face was familiar, someone I’d seen in the castle many times before.
“He works for my parents,” I groaned. “Do you know what he wants?”
“No, he said he would only speak with you.” Jesseline pulled the hood of her dark cloak up over her head, and gave us a small nod before she disappeared. She wouldn’t go far, not with this gentleman lingering around. Likely, she was finding herself the perfect spot to spy from.
The assassin took a step closer, but I held out a hand, projecting my voice just enough to sound assertive, “That’s close enough. Why are you here?”
“Your parents are asking to have a word with you.”
“Well, get on with it,” I huffed, planting my hands firmly on my hips. I exchanged a look with Ryker, who waited patiently at my side. No doubt she was curious about what he had to say as well.
“They want you to come home to talk. They didn’t tell me the message.” His hands remained folded in front of him, a good sign that he wasn’t waiting for his chance to slip something from his belt.
I laughed and then I laughed some more. “No, no, no. They disowned me, not the other way around. I won't be catering to their every whim. So you can just poof right on back and let them know.”
The man fixed his gaze on me. Mother would not be happy with that news when he returned. “Wait here,” he finally grumbled before his magic took him away.
Ryker turned to me, “What do you think they want?”
“The gods only know. As far as my mother goes, she’s probably just reaching out to complain that I didn’t finish something that she wanted done before she revoked my right to the crown.”
As quietly as he had arrived before, the assassin appeared again, at the same distance he had kept before. His arrival came with the gust of the evening breeze. It spiked the anticipation that bubbled in my gut.
“Forgive me if I do not deliver this with the same gusto the queen would have. There have been riots and strikes throughout the Twinity Court since your crown was revoked. Your parents are asking that you return and calm them. Nip them in the bud, if you will.”
“So we’re asking favors now, are we?” I hummed, with genuine curiosity. Why would I help them? Why now? Were the people that supported me so influential that their fit-throwing concerned my mother that much? It was interesting food for thought.
Unless my father had seen something in a dream. Unless this was my opportunity to make a proposition. I looked at Ryker, then back at the man. If I could get my crown back, if I could be a prince again, I wouldn’t need to train the world's smallest nymph army. I could provide an entire fae army. Holy shit. The revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning, the plan already forming in my head and tumbling from my lips before I could think it through.
“Those who did not support the decision to remove your crown are refusing to provide services or crops for those who did, including the castle,” he continued quietly, his own plea for me to return. My mother would be too proud to divulge that information.
So they were going to starve the court out. Serves them right, those self-righteous assholes. With the crown, I could overturn the court, get rid of them all. Plus, there was still the matter of Torrance. May he rot in hell.
“Tell them that the only way I can calm them is by giving the people what they want so desperately. Give me my crown back.”
I could feel Ryker shuffle next to me. The words repeated in my head as a coy grin spread over my cheeks.
The assassin pressed his lips in a thin line, preparing to leave and meet my mother’s unyielding wrath. But I lifted a finger asking for a moment longer.
“And,” I continued, “I want them to take my proposals seriously. I want our nymphs to be set free.”
He sighed quietly, already preparing himself to deliver the news, and then he vanished. I stared at the spot where his feet had been, wondering how utterly, broiling mad my mother would be. If only I could see her face turn purple. It had to be truly out of hand if she was reaching out to me for help. It hadn’t been that bad when we had left, and it had only been just over a week. I tried counting the days in my head. Was it? How long had we been here?
“Do you think she’ll do that?” Ryker whispered. Her face was devoid of emotion and she had taken a step away from me at some point.
“Ryker, this is good.” I closed the space between us, grabbing a hold of her arms. “I could gain back my power. I could use my power. Clearly, there are fae that want me there. They want it as it was before, they believe in your freedom.”
“You have magic.” She shrugged out of my touch. The shine in her eyes made me wonder if I was making the right choice. But of course I was.
“What about all those nymphs you brought here?”
“They’ll stay, of course. This is where they belong.” I stepped away, touching the hilts of my daggers in my belt.
“And Shavarra?”
I hadn’t thought about Shavarra. She’d probably be ecstatic to hear the news. But what would she want to do? Would she want to return with me? She could be a new member in the court. She knew more about the general public than those stuffy old bastards anyway.
“Shavarra will have to make that choice on her own,” I chewed my lip, thinking out loud. It was taking longer for the assassin to return. If he returned at all. Maybe my parents were laughing at me now and I had read this all wrong. “She could join me if she likes, but the nymphs from the refuge are like family to her.”
A cough drew my attention. The assassin had returned and he didn’t look like they had tried to take his head off. Not yet, anyway. His silence made me wonder how much of the conversation he had heard.
“The queen accepts your offer,” he said slow
ly.
Internally, I cheered. Outwardly, I waited, because he wasn’t done yet. “But…” I pushed.
His shiny white teeth glinted like sharpened knives in his mouth as he offered his own toothy smile. “But she has one condition.”
I looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “For fuck's sake, what is with the dramatic pauses?”
“She wants you to take a bride. Once you are wed, your parents have agreed to step down from the throne, and you and your bride will become the king and queen of the Twinity Court. At that point, you can free the slaves.”
Every ounce of air that had filled my lungs escaped me now. I wheezed like I’d been punched in the gut. Because, in a way, I had. My mother had always pushed for me to marry, and now this was her way of doing it. Her last hoorah before she couldn’t force me into things anymore.
Plus, I never really wanted to be king. Not yet, anyway. I wanted my power as prince back. I wanted my parents to listen to me with the respect they showed everyone else. I wanted the nymphs to be free. I just didn’t think it would happen so quickly.
My throat and mouth felt dry. Suddenly, the thought of doing anything but throwing up felt impossible. A warm body slipped near mine. Fingers intertwined with mine.
“It’s okay, Dace,” Ryker whispered. “Isn’t this what you want?”
Had she seen the panic in me so easily? I blinked, trying to force away everything that terrified me about actually being the king. This was absolute madness, what they were proposing. Yet it had to be done. For the good of everyone involved.
My skin buzzed where Ryker’s brushed mine. It felt wrong to agree to this with her here. It felt like I was turning away from everything that destiny had offered me. My mother wouldn’t allow a nymph to be my bride.
“Tell my parents,” I looked down and stared at Ryker’s vibrant green eyes. “That I accept their offer. Give me time, two days at the most, to conclude my affairs here and I’ll return.”
“Thank you,” he bowed, and vanished for the final time.