The Winged Assassin

by Gwynn White

Rican laughed. It soundly vaguely false. “I’ll drink to that.”

  She narrowed her eyes at Averin and said sweetly, “So, no epiphany for you?”

  Averin grimaced and grunted, all at the same time. “The day I need to drink that muck, please incinerate me. Like I said earlier; that’s what wings are for.”

  So Rican couldn’t shape-shift into a bird. There was no getting away from it; her magic was right. Averin seemed infinitely more powerful than his handsome brother.

  Told you so, her water crowed. He’s the one to win.

  This isn’t a war.

  Oh, yes it is. Her fire shot sparks at Rican.

  She shifted away from Rican and tucked her stupid dress tightly against her. She could have asked the tree to still the flames, but it gave her comfort to have them burning. And she had her own victory to enjoy. Apart from repeatedly trying to set fire to Rican, her flames hadn’t singed a single thing all night. That was something to celebrate. Getting answers to some of her questions would be another. While on a winning streak, she asked, “So why does everyone else drink epiphany? Can’t they find other, less mind-bending things to entertain themselves with?”

  Averin’s fingers clicked. “I think a sound barrier is called for if we’re to answer your somewhat intrusive questions.” Busy watching a slight blush claim Rican’s face, she barely noticed the chirp of insects and birds fall away. Averin grinned at his brother. “That’s my Stasha. She’s never been known for tact.”

  Face a picture of misery, Rican looked down at his food. “I’ll bear it in mind.”

  Tired of being an onlooker to a drama she didn’t understand, she snapped, “My questions. Give me answers.”

  “There’s no answer to the epiphany,” Rican said softly. “At least not now. Tomorrow you’ll understand why my father hasn’t outlawed the stuff, although he’s long wanted to, and we all know he should.”

  “And on that note, you expect me to sleep tonight?” She slapped her hands onto the table, making her plate jump. “Why couldn’t breakfast have been supper?”

  “We needed to show you off.” Averin sliced his fish away from the bone and flaked it into the herby sauce before forking some into his mouth.

  She waved her arms. “Yet here we sit in an empty tavern while the rest of your nobles get wasted on epiphany?” Both Averin and Rican snorted.

  “Everyone knows you’re here.” An aromatic baby tomato vanished into Averin’s mouth. She salivated at the thought of the fleshy pips exploding in a burst of flavor as he bit into it. “They’re all talking about your dress.” He wiped his mouth on a red napkin. “By tomorrow, there won’t be a fae in Zephyr who doesn’t know that you showed up at the carnival wearing blue and green flames that burned for hours. That’s what counts.”

  Her dress crackled. And my sister dared suggest we’d been outdone by counterfeits. Tosh! What does water magic know about power?

  Want me to show you? A wave sloshed in her core, momentarily dousing her flames.

  She huffed out a breath before her fire could retaliate. “Okay. Next. Your father’s comment about—”

  “Weapons.” Averin waved his fork in the air, so she took the opportunity to snag a slither of fish off his plate. He nudged his dinner into the middle of the table. “Help yourself, pit princess.”

  She shoved her silly cake aside and dug her fork into his salad with gusto. “Don’t let this”—she waved a baby tomato at him— “deflect you from my questions.”

  “As if you’d let me. If someone who wishes my father harm looks too long on his scar, it pulls a cursing down upon them. I’ve seen more than one fae drop dead at his feet. Turned out, they were Pyreack assassins sent by Darien.”

  Her stomach clenched, and she dropped the uneaten tomato onto the plate. “He thought I was an assassin? You know that’s rubbish.”

  “He was being cautious,” Rican said. “You must surely understand that?”

  “But Averin trusts me. Don’t you?” She scowled. “And—and your mother dragged me into the Dome of Dreams. By all the darkness, what more can I do to prove that I’m not Pyreack?”

  “Relax.” Averin brushed her knuckles with his, sending a tingle of want through her. “Of course I trust you—just as much as you trust me.” A sly grin. “And as for my father, he does it with everyone he meets.” His eyes narrowed. “Just take full advantage of your time with Eliezar tomorrow. As I said before, I cannot stress enough the importance of that moment.” He flicked the tomato over to her. “Eat. You’re going to need all the energy you possess.”

  Why did it feel like she was being set up?

  Because you are. Let’s all just watch our backs. Her dress burned more fervently.

  Ignoring the tomato, she rubbed her temples, wishing for bed, so she could pull the covers over her head and forget everything for a time. Pity that more than anything else, she needed time to think.

  A familiar green feather flitted past her nose and stopped in the air in front of Averin. He squinted at it. “Nyx. I wonder what he wants.” He snatched it out of the air and studied it. A sigh, then he crumpled it. Green glitter scattered and then poofed into nothing. “Forgive me, but there’s an issue with the Pyreack we captured on our arrival in Zephyr. I must go to my office.” He stood. “Ric, you’ll see Stasha safely home?”

  “I’m not an idiot, you know.” Rican smiled wryly.

  Averin punched his arm. “Sorry. I know that.” He licked his lips, then frowned at her. A head shake. “Tomorrow, then. Try and sleep, pit princess. It’ll be a big day.”

  And then he was gone.

  No matter how fiercely her fire burned, it couldn’t warm the chill that settled over her.

  Rican cleared his throat. “So, do you like to read?”

  She jerked around to look at him. “Um… no. Not really. I—I’m not very good at it. Reading is Klaus’s thing. I was too busy…” Urgh. Did she really have to start all over explaining her life to this stranger? “Look, if you don’t mind, I’m really tired. If my dress has done its bit, can we call this night over?”

  “As you wish.” He shot to his feet and clawed his hand through his hair. “I’ll just… walk you across to the solarium.”

  Her feet ached at the thought. “Can’t we spirit?” Surely the crown prince of Zephyr could spirit.

  “Um… hold that thought.” He turned to the door, and his face blanched. “Lierin!”

  “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here, but I had to come.” A winsome fae with gentle features framed by long auburn hair stood in the doorway. Dressed in sensible traveling clothes, she was wringing her hands. Her pale-blue eyes fixed on Rican were strained—and desperately needy.

  Stasha’s heart went out to her. She knew that look, had felt it a hundred times when glowering at Averin when he was being his most annoying. This fae was in love with Rican—and he’d obviously done something to hurt her.

  Stasha swallowed hard at her own shocking admission. But there was no denying it; as annoying, confusing, and frustrating as the son of Zephyr was, she loved Averin. Her heart that had once belonged to Tarik was open for the taking. If Averin wanted it, of course. Tears pricked. She brushed them away with an angry hand and focused on Rican.

  His eyes, fixed on Lierin, had softened to blue mush. He frowned and shifted from foot to foot, then turned to Stasha. “I know it’s rude, but I need to speak with her. Would you mind waiting?” Perhaps his pleading to be with his girl was the first real honesty she’d seen from him all night.

  “Go. I’ll hunt down the outhouse.” Not that she needed to pee, but she certainly didn’t want to be a witness to this discussion.

  “No outhouse. A proper privy through there.” Rican waved vaguely.

  “Thanks.”

  “I won’t be long. Promise.” Why did that make her want to gag?

  She swung around and stomped to a wooden arbor covered in lilies. Each delicate petal was made from a single tongue of flame, but the beauty was lost on her. She s
trode through it, then stopped, pulled up by a low, gravelly voice. “Gem, it isn’t right. I can’t support you in this.” It came from beyond a stone archway that opened onto the jungle.

  “You can’t support me? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” A glass clinked. “I assume we have a sound barrier? If not, I’ll summon Brock to attend to it.”

  “The winds are not privy to this discussion.”

  “And other ears?”

  “We can talk freely. Everything is under control.” King Seph’s voice was light, convincing even, though he clearly had a breach in his sound protection if Stasha could overhear his conversation.

  She tiptoed closer, hoping to see them but was blocked by a waterfall of lava seeping into a shallow pond. She couldn’t risk stepping around it for fear of being spotted. She glanced back at Rican. Lierin was crying, and he held her close to his chest. His eyes were closed, and his lips rested on her head. Stasha turned back to eavesdrop on his parents.

  She had to strain to hear King Seph say, “I sense a bond forming between them. Neither of us saw it coming. But it’s there, and we can’t ignore it.”

  “A bond? Nonsense.” Queen Geminara’s voice was brisk. “The first thing I did when Averin got home was to take him to the Dome. He’s still as committed to our plan as he was the day I proposed it. No change there.”

  King Seph snorted. “I challenge your nonsense. How many times must I tell you? The Dome can be fickle. Averin showed you want he wanted you to see—exactly what your heart desires.”

  “Not this again.” Queen Geminara sounded tired. “I have a blistering headache. All this cursed fire and heat. Even our precious Oddity has been turned into a crude Atrian hovel. The sooner this vile glamour changes, the better.”

  Huh. The queen didn’t like the décor? Perhaps not surprising, given that she had a diamond roof in her rotunda.

  “It will be gone by morning, which means breakfast is just a few hours away. We must hash this out tonight, or it will be too late.”

  “There is nothing to hash out. You’re the one who failed Averin.” Although Queen Geminara’s words were bitter, there was no acrimony in her tone. “I’m now trying to hold Zephyr together with the limited tools at my disposal—tools that pivot around our plan for Stasha.”

  Stasha shifted, an uncomfortable voyeur to this conversation, but she couldn’t tear herself away from learning more about what the Zephyr royals wanted from her.

  “I know what my crime cost us.” King Seph spoke almost mildly. “Don’t forget that, back then, you supported me.”

  “I still do. I’m as complicit as you are. That’s why I’m determined to put this right. And now we have Stasha; we can’t fail.”

  Both her water and fire stood at full alert. She leaned closer, not wanting to miss a word.

  “And that’s why I love you with all my heart.” A pause, then King Seph said softly, “I cannot face my rapidly approaching fading-out without knowing that I did everything in my power to protect my sons, as well as Zephyr and the Trysael throne.”

  King Seph was dying? The blood rushed so fast from Stasha’s extremities, it left her lightheaded. From the little she’d seen of Rican, he wasn’t the fae she’d trust to lead Zephyr to victory against all-powerful King Darien.

  “And I’m losing my husband.” Queen Geminara’s voice cracked. “Twelve hundred years we’ve ruled Zephyr together, and now I’m losing you. Please don’t ask me for more sacrifice. I have nothing left to offer. Our plan for Stasha must work, or I might follow you into the grave.” Stasha longed to see Queen Geminara’s face. From her tone, the queen of Zephyr’s beautiful, remote, and calculating mask had slipped.

  “My love, I wish I could protect you from more pain, but our time is far spent.” King Seph’s voice shifted from soft and caring to determined and powerful. “We have to use what little we have left wisely. Didn’t you see the way Averin looked at her up there on the ledge? How he stood taller when she smiled at him? Everything he’s done since coming home convinces me that a bond between them is possible.”

  Stasha’s heart pounded. Did that explain why she was so drawn to Averin. And, likewise, him to her. How did she even open a discussion with Averin about it? Maybe after breakfast, she could tell him how she felt. They could kiss.… Her stomach swooped deliciously at the prospect.

  Queen Geminara’s sigh ripped her away from her daydream. “If anyone should carry the guilt, it’s Rican. It was his meddling that doomed us all.” Her voice was distant, as if she were unaware that she was speaking at cross purposes to her husband.

  Stasha glanced back at Rican. Without Averin’s fabulous hearing, he was too far away to overhear his mother. Also, still wrapped in Lierin’s arms, he gave no sign that he was even aware that his parents were talking.

  “Now I’m following the plan we agreed was Zephyr’s only hope.” Queen Geminara’s voice had hardened. “We both accepted that it required a sacrifice. Rican got us into this mess, so he should be the one who pays the price. That was our joint decision. Must I remind you that you were the one who said it was the only way Rican could become half the king Averin would be?”

  “Two hundred and seventy years ago, and I remember it as if it were yesterday. I still believe that to be true. He needs the growth to ensure he will be a better king than I was. But things have changed since Averin got home, and we must adapt with them.” King Seph’s voice leached desperation. “Please trust me on this.”

  “You were the best king Zephyr ever had—up until this moment. But just because you’ve stopped putting Zephyr first, it doesn’t mean I can. I haven’t. I can’t. I never will.” Queen Geminara sounded resigned to what seemed to be a bitter, hopeless fate.

  Boots squealed on a stone floor. “Our daughter died! Skinned alive by Pyreack scum on Darien’s orders.” All the passion Queen Geminara seemed to lack colored King Seph’s voice. “Grief almost took the finest son-in-law a fae could have. Our even finer sons have nearly succumbed to the same despair. And despite what you think, Rican is a fine son, with a true heart. He acted for the best. No one could have foreseen things going so badly.”

  “I did, but no one listened to me. You will all listen now. You must. Or all is lost.” Queen Geminara’s chilling words sent a shudder through Stasha.

  “I’ve learned to stop, Gem. Lena’s death taught me that cruel lesson.”

  “Stop? It’s too late for that. Way, way too late. I’ve given you everything. So has Rican. Lena gave her life for you. And now you’re robbing Averin. You lost the right to stop a long, long time ago. Not just you—we both did. We must stay the course to fix our crimes. And Stasha is the key. The two-faced god has dropped her into our lap, and we must use her as planned.”

  Stasha’s fists clenched. Anyone who invoked her name in the same sentence as the two-faced god was not a friend.

  “Do you think I don’t know what our folly cost the family? Zephyr?” King Seph moaned like a wounded animal. “I’m also trying to put things right.” Flesh hit flesh, like he’d thumped his hands together. “I’m telling you, Averin is not the same fae who tattooed himself after Lena’s death, then swore to the two-faced god that he’d find the force that shook the world or die trying. She’s changed him. Only you refuse to see it.”

  “Seph, don’t make me laugh. Averin has always favored fae with meat on their bones. That skinny little thing could never tempt or satisfy him.”

  Stasha fingernails bit into her palms that Queen Geminara spoke the truth, however cruelly. Averin was always insisting she eat more. Yet, if King Seph was right about the bond, appearance didn’t matter. She’d love Averin even if he had two heads. She winced. Maybe not quite two heads. Perhaps the bond still had a way to go.

  King Seph scoffed. “To tumble, yes. But deny all you will—Stasha has done the number on him. And, as you’ve just pointed out, we can’t blame his obvious affection for her on lust. A bond is imminent.”

  A blush tore through her that
Averin’s parents thought her so unappealing, even if King Seph seemed certain Averin wanted her the way she wanted him.

  “Don’t be getting sentimental on me, Seph,” Queen Geminara said dryly. “You forget that Averin’s heart isn’t free to bond. He traded away all possibility of that kind of love for his wings. Our stone-hearted son knows his duty and will honor it. This I do not doubt.”

  “Indulge me. How long has he had those wings?” King Seph sounded impatient.

  “I remember the day he made his bargain well.” Queen Geminara’s voice was equally clipped. “Rican had done his meddling, and in so doing, had ruined Averin’s life. He responded by throwing his chance at love away for wings so he could occasionally escape the nightmare his life had become.”

  “I don’t believe Averin ever saw it that way. Unlike you, our supposedly stone-hearted son has always cared for Rican. Back then, Averin just wanted to fly more than he wanted a life partner. No crime in that, for a young fae male.”

  “How dare you? I care for Rican too!” Stasha caught a whiff Queen Geminara’s signature scent—the floral breezes that warmed the temperate Atrian summer days. At least her passion for Rican seemed real. “He’s my son. I’m his mother. Nothing changes just because I think he’s a… a disappointment.”

  Stasha’s shoulders sagged. Maybe having parents wasn’t all that she’d once dreamed it would be. She glanced back at Rican with more sympathy. He and Lierin had pulled out of their embrace and were talking quietly.

  Another deep sigh rumbled through the arch. “Gem, I wish you could see how wrong you are. And as for Averin… you haven’t answered my question. Has he finished paying the price for his wings or not?”

  The silence that followed was so long and intense, Stasha was about to turn away but was stopped by King Seph whooping. “Gem! Your face! It’s like you’ve seen a ghost.” He laughed so loud and so long, Stasha was sure he’d crack a rib. If she’d been Queen Geminara, she’d have decked him. Finally, his laughter faded. “At last something besides terror and panic has broken through to you.” There was no mirth in his voice, only intense relief. “Please, let’s work together to fix Zephyr and our broken family.”