“Then why did you shut yourself inside the library while he raged about the bedroom?”
Mum looked toward the library door, then quickly away. Her gaze skated around the room, landing on bookcases and tables and even the rug on the floor, but never once did it land on me. “Anya, you have to understand, things aren’t as they were,” she said at last. “Your Da is one of the strongest men that’s ever lived, and I’m... Am I strong now? I fear the answer is plain.”
“You’re still powerful,” I said, recalling the many spells I’d watched her cast since being exiled.
“But am I strong enough for him?” she said. “I used to be as strong as Bod, if not more so. I used to match him blow for blow.”
“Then you hid because you worried he would hurt you,” I deduced. She remained silent. “Don’t you think this is something you should talk to him about?”
Mum smiled sadly. “Bod’s never been much for talking. Perhaps I’m not, either.”
“Still, you’re going to have to deal with him eventually. Da’s so upset he nearly destroyed the throne room. He beat that lovely smooth floor to bits.” I eyed Mum, and added, “The chandelier has been shattered to bits.”
“What? It took me an entire season to craft that piece! It’s older than Angus! Doesn’t he understand how difficult it is to maintain such clear ice?” Mum got up and stalked around the room, muttering away about Da and his big, clumsy fists. I leaned back in my chair, satisfied. Mum and Da would come together again, if for other reason than to talk to have one of their epic ragers. I was sure of it.
Maelgwyn burst into the room, and I felt a pang of guilt. Should I be wishing for my mother to reunite with Da when she seemed so happy here? When Maelgwyn seemed to finally be happy, too?
“Anya, how long have you been here?” I took in Maelgwyn’s searching eyes and frazzled appearance, and shelved my guilt. He hadn’t been so unkempt wen a score of my brothers were drunk on his doorstep.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded.
“The crown,” he replied, then he went to the far side of the chamber and began searching through the book cases. Mum approached him and laid her hand on his back.
“Your father’s crown?” I prompted.
“Yes, my father’s crown. The one I reclaimed from Fionnlagh.” He faced me. “It’s missing.”
Chapter Fourteen
Chris
AFTER ANYA KISSED ME goodbye, I knocked on the flat’s entrance. A few moments later Rina flung the door open.
“You knock on the door of your own house?” she asked.
“It’s polite.” I stepped inside. Faith was laying on her back in the middle of the living room floor underneath what I’m sure was a very educational toy, batting at a few colorful balls that dangled from an equally colorful arch above her. I didn’t see Mom’s cane anywhere. “You all alone here?”
“Yep. It’s just us.” She gestured to the couch. “What happened now?”
“What makes you think something happened?”
“Something always happens. It’s our way.”
“You’re right about that.” I watched her for a moment. Her cheeks were ruddy and her nose was stuffy. Rina had been crying. “About what the Norns told us.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” she said. “They were definitely right about you.”
I blinked. “They were?”
“Absolutely.” Rina grabbed a notebook from the table. “According to my research volvs—boy volvas are called volvs, you know—don’t just see the future. They also have a tremendous insight into the past, and that’s something you’ve always had. Every article about your books goes on about your uncanny intuitions about the Elizabethan era, and all that.”
“You read articles about me?”
“I like to look for my name.” She flipped through the notebook’s pages. “So yeah, you’re the volv around here, but whereas Mom had foresight you seem to have hindsight.”
“Huh.” Trust me to have the least useful magical attribute in history. “So what good is that?”
“I am not sure,” she admitted. “Do you just understand the past really well, or could you interact with the past?”
“Like time travel?”
“No, silly. Like, can you immerse yourself in the facts and details of a particular time perios and come to an understanding as to why things happened the way they did, like you do when you’re writing about Shakespeare and his friends. Maybe you could immerse yourself in the time when Mom had her visions about you and try to figure out who she was writing about.” Rina leaned over and adjusted Faith’s contraption. “Or maybe you could figure out where Nicnevin went.”
I laughed through my nose. “Because finding her is on the top of my to-do list.”
We heard keys in the front door. A moment later Colleen entered.
“Hey, all.” Colleen dropped a few shopping bags next to the door. “Chris, good to see you. How are things in the land of ice and magic?”
“Absolutely insane,” I replied.
“Nothing new, then.” Colleen sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote. “Mind if I turn on the news?”
“Go for it,” Rina said. “I’d like to think about something else for a while.”
Colleen glanced at me. I shrugged, so she clicked on Channel 4. There were the usual headlines about politics and the weather, then the anchor announced some breaking news from Ireland.
“That’s unusual,” Colleen said. “They usually only report on Northern Ireland.”
“Must be some news,” I said. On the screen was an image of a boulder. There were a few lines carved into the top of the stone, and it was in a display case in a museum. “Hey, Rina, this story is about rocks.”
“Irish rocks are fun.” Rina leaned toward the television as Colleen turned up the volume.
“Reports indicate that the museum has never before been a target for violence,” the anchor said. Another image of the boulder was presented. It had been smashed to bits. “The item in question has no monetary value, its sole significance to the local culture and historical societies. Other treasures in the museum, some of which are quite valuable, were left untouched.”
“Someone broke into a museum and beat up a boulder?” Colleen said. “That’s just weird.”
“It’s not just weird, it’s inhuman,” Rina said, her eyes tracking the information crawl at the bottom of the screen. “That boulder was originally solid granite, and more than six feet tall. It must have weighed a few tons. What in the world could have destroyed it?”
I observed the pile of gravel that had recently been a boulder, and my stomach sank. “A giant.”
“What giant? You mean the Bodach?” Rina asked.
“Wait, Anya’s dad?” Colleen added. “I guess he’d be capable of destroying a boulder, but why?”
I pointed at the screen. “Look.”
The anchor continued, “A second stone, which is an admittedly poor replica of the stone housed in the museum, was also destroyed. While authorities are hesitant to draw a connection between the two events, it is odd that two stones dedicated to the pre-Christian deity Crom Cruach were targeted in the same six hour period.”
The anchor moved on to the next headline. Colleen shut off the television and we stared at the blank screen in silence.
“It was Bod,” I said. “Had to be.”
“I agree, but we still don’t know why,” Rina said.
“Is he trying to impress Beira?” Colleen asked. Before Rina or I could reply, Anya appeared in front of the door. After the shock of the destroyed bounders we didn’t even flinch at her sudden arrival.
“Apologies,” she said. “I meant to arrive out in the hallway.”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I demanded. I’d teleported with Anya many times and she had never once missed her target, not even by a centimeter.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Maelgwyn’s crown has been stolen.”
“The crown he took from Fionnlagh
?” I asked, and she nodded.
“It was their father’s crown,” she said. “He was the Summer King of old. The crown should have passed directly to Maelgwyn, but Fionnlagh stole it from their father’s deathbed.”
“And now it’s gone again.” I took Anya’s hand, and said, “We were just watching a news report from Ireland. No one knows how it happened, but two boulders dedicated to Crom Cruach were destroyed earlier today.” When Anya’s eyes widened, I added, “They were reduced to gravel.”
“Gods below.” Anya looked past me to Rina. “Forgive me, but we need to go.”
“I get it,” Rina said. “Yell if you need help.”
“I am certain we will.” Anya grabbed my other hand, and we blinked out.
Chapter Fifteen
Anya
WE APPEARED IN MAELGWYN’S throne room amid a flurry of servants hurrying this way and that. So intent they were on their duties they hardly noticed our arrival. I dislike being ignored, and stepped in front of a steward, halting her. She startled when she recognized me.
“Your Highness,” she said, bobbing a curtsey. “Forgive me, we weren’t expecting you.”
“Tell me about this uproar.”
“Himself, he isn’t pleased,” she replied.
“Maelgwyn’s angry?”
“Oh, no. My lord is never angry. Never raised a hand to any of us. But,” she leaned closer, “he’s in such a state even your mam has taken leave of him.”
Mum was avoiding everything and everyone lately. “You may go,” I said, and she scurried off. “My mother is hiding and my father is raging.”
“Divide and conquer it is,” Christopher said. “I’ll find Maelgwyn while you handle Beira.”
“Are you certain? If he really is angered you might get hurt.”
“You yourself said I’m almost as resilient as you are.” Christopher brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “I’ll see if I can help him. If I can’t, I’ll distract him by telling him all about Yggsdrasil. Besides,” he added, “I remember what Beira’s like when she’s mad. I’ll take my chances with Maelgwyn.”
“Wise choice. I’ll come find you in an hour,” I said. I watched Christopher as he walked toward the windows that overlooked the courtyard, and then as he questioned a few servants. He was such a brilliant, capable man, and I kept coddling him as if he was no more than a bairn. Mum had once coddled me, and her actions caused me to leave home for decades while I lived in hot regions near the equator, places I’d specifically chosen because they were never cold and had no real winter. Places that were far beyond her reach.
I was not my mother, not by any stretch of the imagination. Nor was Christopher a helpless child, just as I hadn’t been when Mum’s actions had driven me away from home for so long. I needed to loosen my grip on Christopher before I smothered him, and he found himself a less stifling place to call home.
Having resolved to do just that, I set aside those emotions and slipped inside the apartment Mum shared with Maelgwyn. I don’t know why I felt the need to be secretive. It’s not as if any of the servants would challenge my right to be there. As I looked around the room, I was struck by the different feel and appearance of these rooms from the rest of the palace, differences I’d failed to notice during my earlier visits. Whereas the Unseelie Court as a whole tended toward blacks and grays, these rooms were reminiscent of a summer’s day. The ceiling was painted a bright, glorious blue, and rounded glass sconces served as clouds and light sources. The eastern side of the room was made up of windows with an excellent view of the gardens, and all of them were flung open with their jewel-toned draperies fluttering in the breeze. The scent of flowers wafted toward me. It seemed that the Seelie Court wasn’t the only place where flowers bloomed when they chose to.
When I’d mentioned that lately flowers sprung up wherever Mum walked, Maelgwyn claimed that she had become adept at creating life. Were these summery, colorful rooms thus due to her newfound talents? Or, had Mum been a life bringer all along, but had endured her talents being frozen and unrecognizable beneath her icy surface?
Regardless of the answer to those questions, my mother was nowhere to be found. After I’d completed an exhaustive search of the bed chambers, library, and courtyards later, I still hadn’t found Mum. First Nicnevin, now Mum. It seemed that the women of Elphame were going missing, one after the other. Perhaps I would be next.
I stopped, dead in my tracks as Karina would say. What if Mum wasn’t hiding, but she really was missing? What if she’d been kidnapped? The Beira of a year ago couldn’t have been harmed by any but the strongest of creatures, and even then only in the height of summer. During winter my mother had been the strongest being in existence. Now, that title fell to me.
Mum’s days of incredible strength were over, and I needed to accept that my mother was more vulnerable now than she’d ever been. I’d wasted so much time looking after and coddling Christopher, when I should have been looking after Mum.
Panic squeezed my heart. I closed my eyes and took slow, even breaths. First off, I had no evidence that anything untoward had happened to Mum. Her lack of presence in a few areas meant only that she was somewhere else, nothing more. Second, even though she was weaker now than she’d ever been, my mother was far from powerless. If some fool had captured her, they would regret it soon enough.
I opened my eyes, and let the sight of the green courtyard calm my frayed nerves. If I let these baseless thoughts spiral out of control I would be the one who needed watching, and who knew what would happen to the weather if I ended up in such a state. I turned to reenter the palace when another realization hit me as surely as if I’d run into a wall. I knew of one man both strong enough to carry Mum off, and thick-headed enough to believe it was a truly good idea. What’s worse, he had a small army of co-conspirators, all of them loyal to him unto death. That daft man was my da, the Bodach.
“Gods below, he wouldn’t,” I muttered. “Would he?”
“What wouldn’t he do?”
I turned around and saw Mum sitting on the edge of the fountain, which was the one bloody place I hadn’t looked. I took another deep breath and willed my heartbeat to slow. I also admonished myself for jumping to conclusions, and not bothering to check the entire garden before dissolving into madness.
“I was looking for you, and when I couldn’t find you I wondered if Da had come back carried you off,” I said, coming to sit beside her.
Mum sniffed. “If you’re ever wondering what Bod is up to, just think of the most reckless, foolhardy plan you can devise. Odds are he’s already done it, gotten his arse handed to him, and moved on to the next scheme.”
“About his plans. Has Da ever mentioned Crom Cruach?”
“Crom Cruach,” Mum repeated. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in an age. He was a strong one in his day, but he went underground more than a thousand years ago. Why are you asking about him?”
“There are—were—stones dedicated to Crom. They were in a museum. Someone destroyed them, reduced the boulders to pebbles.”
Mum sighed and covered her face with her hands. “That certainly sounds like Bod’s work. The question remains, though, what is he after?”
“Do you know?”
“I don’t, but I’ll wager it’s nothing good.”
Chapter Sixteen
Chris
AFTER CONFERRING WITH a few of the servants, I found Maelgwyn in a grand hall near the rear of the palace. He was plainly looking for something—most likely the missing crown—hadn’t noticed my arrival. While I considered how best to approach him, I considered the room we were in.
I’d never been in this room before, and it was a place like none other in the court. The walls were covered with a rich green wallpaper—I believe the color was called “arsenic green” in Victorian times—decorated with vining flowers, and the woodwork was gilded. Heavy dark wood furniture filled up the room, the centerpiece of which was a long dining table.
I looked to
ward the ceiling, and saw a chandelier centered above the table. It was an exact copy of the one Bod had destroyed in the Winter Palace, although this one was made of glass instead of ice. The floral walls and delicate glasswork were at odds with the rest of the room. Had Maelgwyn started redecorating this room for Beira? If that was the case, it meant either Beira or Maelgwyn, or maybe both of them, were planning on remaining a couple. If that was the case, someone needed to distract Bod before he destroyed the rest of the Winter Palace, and the Unseelie Court, too.
I cleared my throat. Maelgwyn raised his head from the bookcase he was ransacking. “Christopher. Is Anya here as well?”
“She is. She went to speak with Beira.” I approached the Unseelie King, but I didn’t get too close. I’d never seen Maelgwyn lash out in anger, but if he did I’m certain I wouldn’t last long, inherited volv-ness or no. “Anya told me that your crown is missing.”
“And how could it be missing?” Maelgwyn mused. “Hardly anyone knew it was here. And even if someone did know of its whereabouts, who could have entered my court and taken it unawares?” Maelgwyn turned away and resumed tearing apart the shelves. “It is supposed to be in this room,” he roared, as books and other objects went flying. “It must be here!”
I took a breath. “Have you considered Angus?”
Maelgwyn went perfectly still. I heard a horrible noise like metal scraping metal. In Maelgwyn’s hand was a bronze vase, crumpled like so much paper. I hadn’t even seen him pick it up, yet he’d crushed it like a piece of newsprint.
“You have reason to believe Angus absconded with my father’s crown?” Maelgwyn asked softly.
“I have no evidence either for or against, but he is capable of it,” I replied.
“Agreed. Why would he do such a thing?”
“Bod wants to impress Beira. Perhaps Angus is trying, in his own misguided way, to help reunite his parents.”
Maelgwyn set the destroyed vase down and faced me. “A logical assumption. Where would he have put it?”
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