The Winged Assassin

by Gwynn White

  “Averin’s heart has been returned to him?” Stasha just made out Queen Geminara’s whisper. It rang with disbelief—maybe she’d been too shocked to react to King Seph’s laughter or his plea. “Curse the timing if you’re right.

  “I’ll stake our kingdom on it. Averin is ready to give his heart away again. Let’s make sure that this time he chooses something—someone—far more valuable than frivolous wings.” King Seph’s voice hardened. “Geminara, I plead with you—don’t get in his way.”

  “Don’t get in his way,” Queen Geminara mocked. “You make it sound so easy. But it’s not! Seph, you’re fading. Now more than ever, Zephyr needs stability. Our subjects need to see that we honor our traditions—the vortex, the carnival, the succession. Especially that. Now isn’t the time for big changes when our much-beloved king is about to die.”

  “It’s precisely because I’m fading that I’m asking you to rethink everything.”

  “What do you think I’ve done for the past thousand years?” Queen Geminara sounded incredulous. “Think. Scheme. Plan. Act. And then start all over again because there was no solution to the problem. Now we have the power that shook the world. Stasha is the answer. Our plan is the answer. Trust it. Trust me to see it through after you leave.”

  “You accused me of failing Averin.” King Seph’s voice was heavy. “You’re right. I did. I’m not making that mistake again.” A chair shifted. “I will do what I must for my family.”

  “And I will do what I must for Zephyr.”

  A long sigh. “Then we find ourselves at an impasse. This was never a war I wanted, but I’ll fight if I have to.” Heavy boots clicked on a stone floor.

  “I thought you wished to spare me pain.” Hurt laced Queen Geminara’s voice. “If so, don’t defy me. Not now.”

  The footsteps faltered. A long pause. “I will never willingly hurt you, Geminara.” King Seph started walking, his plodding steps coming in her direction. “And I might not have always been the best king Zephyr ever had, but by the gods, when I finally fade, you will know that at the end, I did the very best I could for my country.”

  How long did she have before King Seph strode around the waterfall and caught her snooping? She turned to run back to Rican but stopped. King Seph would hear her clumsy retreat. “Deja,” she whispered urgently. “Help! Get me out of here.” The rasp of leather on stone drew nearer. She slunk back into the limited shadows.

  A light flashed, and a bird hissed. Deja surged passed, not even slowing for her to mount the golden saddle. She gripped a dangling stirrup in both hands and allowed Deja to sweep her into the air. Another flash and she and Deja left the Oddity.

  It was only once Deja dropped her onto the golden carpet in her fancy parlor in the solarium that the conversation struck her as odd. Had King Seph meant her to hear all that? If so, what game was he playing? And how could she counter Queen Geminara’s threats?

  Every muscle taut, Stasha added a fried egg to the bacon and pile of pastries she’d loaded onto her plate. No servants hovered in Queen Geminara and King Seph’s elegant dining room to serve her. The three floor-to-ceiling windows, which stood side by side draped in blue-and-gold silk, were bolted closed. Even the door had been barred behind her once she’d joined the family. No doubt the wind had been banished from this meeting too. She finished dishing her food and took her plate to a round table in the center of the room.

  Averin and Rican were already seated. They’d left the chair between them vacant. Rican stood and pulled it out for her. Averin snorted. “See, he’s even more gallant than I am.” His joke fell flat under the weight of his gaze, dark and devoid of light.

  “We all play to our strengths,” Rican murmured. She’d already apologized to him for vanishing the previous evening. His face was pale, black rings stark beneath his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t slept much either.

  She sat and lined up her plate between her golden knife and fork on a cream-linen tablecloth. “The juice, please.” Her voice was unnaturally loud in a silence broken only by the scraping of utensils as Averin’s parents dished up their meals. Averin filled her glass with sweet-smelling guava juice, then steepled his fingers. He was yet to make eye contact with her.

  Clearly, this meeting was going to be brutal.

  King Seph and Queen Geminara took their places opposite her. They clasped hands. Averin and Rican each took one of her and their parent’s hands. Circled together, they bowed their heads. King Seph spoke. “May we all find favor in the sight of the two-faced god. Let his blessings be upon the outcome of this meeting.” He looked up at Stasha. His scar had vanished, replaced by his unspoiled, handsome face. “I hope you enjoy your meal.”

  Why did that sound so ominous? Like she’d never eat again. The family released hands. She wiped hers on her brand-new fighting leathers. She was headed to Eliezar after this meeting and had dressed accordingly. “Thank you. I’m sure I will.” Now there was a lie. She may have stacked her plate, but she doubted she’d eat a mouthful of it.

  Knives and forks scraped as everyone, including her, cut into their food. King Seph shoveled in a mouthful of egg and bacon, chewed a moment, and swallowed with a click. His elbows thumped onto the table. “Stasha, let’s get to the point of this meeting.”

  Averin stiffened.

  “That would be nice.” She hated that she sat next to Averin and thus couldn’t easily see his face.

  “When I was a youngling,” King Seph said, “I had two very unlikely friends: Darien Pyreaxos and Ivarune Bron. The last name may be unfamiliar to you. He was, at that time, heir to the Voltaic throne. We called ourselves the Brotherhood—and that was as true as it’s cliched. We could not have been closer if we’d shared parents. We even had secret portals into each other’s apartments so we could carouse by night and be home by morning without our fathers even knowing we’d been gone.”

  Back at the Pyreack camp, Averin had said that three kings had started the war. She pushed her uneaten egg around her plate, guessing at where this story was headed.

  “As it happened,” King Seph continued, “we all inherited our thrones at much the same time. For two hundred glorious years, we remained committed to each other and our brotherhood.” He took a sip of a brown liquid reeking of boiled cabbage, boot polish, and radishes, winced, and eased the goblet back onto the table. “I won’t trifle with your intelligence. I’m sure you can guess what happened next.”

  “You decided to go to war? With Atria and Ocea?”

  A snort. “Despite counsel from both my human and fae advisors begging me to forbear, I justified my actions by claiming I was doing it for Zephyr. In truth, I just wanted power.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You had human advisors?”

  “Oh yes. We all did. Humans and fae ruled side by side back then. There was respect and honor between us. Both sides brought their strengths, and the world was a better place for it.” A grunt. “How that ended is another story.” He shot her an almost boyish smile. “A tale for another day.” He took Queen Geminara’s hand in his. “With our allies, we set the date that our combined armies would march on that bitch Calarel Adonis and on Princess Boa’s father, Appius.” He circled the stem of his goblet with his other hand. “I feel no remorse about plotting to destroy Adonis, but I do regret what happened in Ocea. I will carry the guilt for that into the eternities.”

  Queen Geminara laced her fingers with his and lifted both their hands to her mouth and kissed his. “We had a party planned at Ivarune’s home to celebrate our upcoming victory. We were so confident.” She sounded wistful. Her head shook, and dark hair fall across her face. She swept it behind her pointed ear with a firm hand. “Things don’t always go as planned.”

  “Not when you’re dealing with traitors and rats,” Averin muttered. He’d eaten almost nothing and was crumbling a bread roll in his fingers.

  King Seph leaned across the table and patted his hand. “Traitors and rats?” A shrug. “Those are pejorative words, my son.” He tilted his h
ead at her. “But we were betrayed. The damage was done, and there was no going back.”

  “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Not at all. That’s what today is about—full disclosure.” Seph’s steel-blue eyes seared her. “Stasha, after today, there can be no more secrets amongst allies. They are the breeding ground of distrust. Distrust leads to war.” A hand wave. “You’re an orphan from Askoval—you know the rest.”

  She swallowed, wishing that getting rid of secrets was so easy. Even if she blurted out that water magic slopped in her core, what did she do about the Tiyanak? How could she risk Averin’s life by disclosing the terrible hold that monster had over her?

  Seph took another sip of his strange drink. “We had planned a feast and were drinking the toasts when—” His lip curled. “Well, as I have hazy memories of what happened next, I’ll let Geminara take over.”

  Queen Geminara—Geminara—looked Stasha straight in the eye. “Some of the wine had been poisoned. Before I’d even gotten Seph back to the portal, Ivarune was dead.”

  Trystaen had once told her that King Ivarune had been poisoned by his son, Prince Cyran. “And Darien? Was he targeted too?”

  “When I came to in my bed in Zephyr, I was certain of three things.” Seph’s finger shot up. “One. I was dying.” A second finger joined the first. “My magic was locked and beyond my command. And—” He tossed both hands into the air. “Darien and Cyran were responsible.”

  She clenched her fists. “Darien double-crossed you? So much for the brotherhood.”

  “There is no honor amongst thieves, Stasha.” He smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling. “From what Averin told me about the silver coin, you should know that.” The sparkle faded, and his face darkened. “The absence of honor is doubly true amongst fae who conspire to steal the keys and territories belonging to other monarchs. It was not long after that, Darien pulled a dirty on Cyran. He marched into Voltaic and expunged it. Not one golden-eyed fae survives to this day. The moment I was strong enough to give the command, I called my armies that were poised to attack Ocea and Atria back home to protect Zephyr from Darien.”

  Seph’s hands weren’t exactly clean, but Darien remained the monster in this tragedy. And yet, she still liked Zephyr’s seemingly forthright king. What did that say about her?

  She frowned. “There’s something I don’t understand. You said your magic was locked up.” She glanced at Averin and Rican. Both of them stared at their congealing food. “What about your keys?”

  “Oh, I still have those. Cruelly, I’ve sometimes thought. What good is a king who can feel his magic but can’t wield it? Cannot create, destroy, or defend? My magic and my keys lie in my core, mocking me with what could be but is not.”

  “I can understand how that must feel. Did Averin mention that I made a bargain that effectively imprisons my white heat? I had to. It was just too dangerous to have around with my lack of control. I can still sense it, and it comforts me. I would be thoroughly miserable if I could never access it again.”

  Seph rubbed his freshly shaven chin. “Then, Stasha, Bearer of Wild Magic, perhaps you do understand. I’m glad you shared that with me.” The rest of the room seemed to fall away, so it was just the two of them sharing confidences. She opened her mouth to tell him about her water magic but let her jaw hang. She still had no idea what he and his wife planned to do with her. Best not to let all her secrets gape, despite what he’d said about allies. Still, their closeness gave her the confidence to ask, “What about the vortex? What stopped it from falling on the city?”

  “My magic.” Geminara spoke so sharply, Stasha jumped in her seat. “I poured everything I had into the vortex to keep it up. I wasn’t entirely successful. We lost part of the carnival. It fell onto the human quarters in the city. Obviously, there were casualties. That’s when I flooded the Ilyseryph and the palace with epiphany. I ordered barrels of the foul stuff placed on every corner. It was the party of the age, and it lasted a full month. Few truly remember what happened during that time. But by the time the last drop was drunk, the carnival and the human quarters had been rebuilt.” Back straight, head high, her cool gaze challenged Stasha. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat to defend Zephyr.”

  But it wasn’t just Zephyr Geminara had defended with her quick thinking. It was the Trysael dynasty too. Averin hadn’t lied: his mother was a force underestimated at one’s peril. Perhaps that’s why Seph had always ensured his wife remained on his side. How that affected his current plan, Stasha couldn’t fathom.

  “And that’s why we still use epiphany.” Rican tossed his knife and fork onto his plate with a clang. “It helps hide breaks in the magic—the last one of which happened just a few days ago.”

  Averin stirred. “More of that later, I think.” His fingers fluttered at his father. “Pa needs to finish his history lesson, or it won’t make sense.”

  Rican sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “Then let’s move it along. The tension is killing me, and I’m sure Stasha wants to know her fate.”

  “I hope it’s a happy one.” Even said with faked brightness, that sounded lame. She turned to Seph. “You said that you were dying?”

  He shot her a toothy smile. “Brace yourself.” His face and body morphed, twisting into a wizened creature with waxy skin, a hunched back, and stringy gray hair that hung likes rats’ tails around a withered face. Rheumy eyes swam in sockets way too big. A clawed hand, mottled purple, shook as it lifted the goblet of brown gunk. “This has kept me alive for a thousand years.” If she hadn’t recognized the gravelly voice, she’d never have believed the wreck in front of her was Seph. “But now it’s failing me. I might see the next Hiding of the Moon.” Hand trembling, he lowered the goblet onto the table. “Or I might not.”

  “Enough!” Geminara cried. “Averin. Do something. Don’t let your father expose himself like this.” Both hands covered her mouth, and her eyes were wide and filled with tears. Her mask had not just slipped; it had been utterly ripped away.

  Averin’s fingers swirled, and the old fae vanished, replaced by the beautiful, everlastingly young King Seph of Zephyr Stasha knew. She gulped a mouthful of saliva and forced the shock from her face.

  Seph laughed. “Don’t pity me, Stasha. I brought it upon myself. It’s only by the grace of the two-faced god, and a very skilled alchemist, that I’ve lived long enough to sire a pair of sons and a precious daughter. And then, undeserving wretch that I am, I was granted time to watch them grow into fine fae. What more can I ask of life? Now it’s time for me to hand over the reins.” He scowled. “And I intend to see that done right.”

  “Which brings us to the point of this meeting.” Geminara’s mask was back in place. She smoothed the tablecloth and straightened her unused cutlery. “At the end of that terrible week, we regrouped. Seph’s magic was lost to us. After supporting the Vortex, my magic was drained. It never fully recovered. But what I had, I gave to him, until I was left with just enough to keep my life-spark burning. To survive, we had no choice but to syphon magic out of every fae in Zephyr. A tiny bit, taken daily from everyone, barely affected them. For over seven hundred years that kept our kingdom together. We told no one. Not even our younglings. Darien had to believe his plot had failed. It worked. Not only did we keep Zephyr safe, we gave it almost mystical power. Something for Darien to fear. And fear us, he does.” Despite the victory she recounted, her face was pale and her eyes bleak. “But I always knew it couldn’t last. Eventually, we would have to tell Rican.”

  “And that’s when the villain entered the story.” Rican’s chair shot back, and he jumped to his feet. Hand gripping his forehead, he paced. “By pure chance, I stumbled onto what they were doing. It shocked me to the core.” He paused, anguish twisting his features. “Back then, I was young and naïve. Instead of discussing it with my father, as I should’ve done, I offered a deal to the two-faced god. My terms? In exchange for freeing our people, I’d sacrifice my magic. My offer was accepted, and
my power transferred to my father. Like my mother, the little bit of magic that dribbles into me every day is enough to keep me alive, but nothing more.” That wry smile again. “Spiriting you to the solarium would have seen me dead at your feet.” He gasped in a breath as if suffocating. “Only, my magic wasn’t enough to fuel the Zephyr show. It lasted only two hundred years, and then it was gone. For the last seventy, we’ve dug into Averin’s supplies. He’s powerful—far more than I ever was—but his magic isn’t limitless.” He wrung his hands. “How many more daily décor changes and carnival glamours can he fund before it’s gone too? And then there’s nothing left to keep the vortex from destroying us all.”

  I told you Averin was powerful. Her water magic smirked.

  She ignored the intrusion, unable to believe the folly of using Averin’s precious magic to conjure décor and glamours—even if that folly created the illusion of the all-powerful Zephyr. And no wonder Averin never changed the color of his own rooms if that was the personal cost. As for her argument with him at the Crossing about the vortex… her blush even scorched the roots of her hair.

  Averin jumped up and tossed an arm around Rican’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You did what you believed was right. No one should blame you for that. I certainly don’t.” He shook so hard his voice broke, but he still managed to glare at his mother.

  Geminara’s beautiful, remote face was unrepentant. Bringing much-needed change to Zephyr would be impossible while Geminara held sway.

  Rican threw Averin’s arm off his shoulder. “It’s not okay. It will never be. It’s thanks to me that Lena rushed off to join Boa's army. If I’d shut up about what I’d learned, she’d still be alive. Instead, she thought she could solve it all by personally slaughtering Darien. As if that could ever happen.” He strode back to the table and thumped both hands onto the tablecloth. “Before you judge me, Stasha, and find me as despicable as my mother does, please understand why I did it.”