Hell to the no.
Ulric lowered his sword. “You cannot fend off a foe through defense only. You must attack.”
“But what if I hurt you?”
He looked to the ceiling and sighed.
“Am I interrupting?” Illa entered the training room, a pleasant smile on her face that faltered slightly when she saw Ulric—and then her emotions went berserk. Surprise, anxiety, longing, confusion, more longing…
Hmmm.
“You’re not interrupting,” Reese said when Ulric just stood there, his attention no longer on the ceiling but on Reese’s beautiful sister. “We were practicing, but apparently I’m not chopping off enough of Ulric’s limbs.”
Illa’s face brightened. “Would you like some pointers, sister?”
Only among Fae could warfare be a pleasant pastime.
“On how to maim Ulric?” Reese stepped aside and handed Illa the sword she’d secretly named Ulga. “By all means. I’d love to see what the women around here can do.”
A lot—and she meant a lot—of things had gone wrong since Reese had arrived in Tirnan and New Kingdom, but discovering she had a sister wasn’t one of them.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Ulric said, his jaw firming.
Reese caught more funny emotions, this time coming off him. He watched Illa while she tested out the sharpness of the sword. Surprise, joy, and deep apprehension wafted from him.
Illa was wearing a pale pink beaded gown. Not exactly warlike attire, but that didn’t stop her. She crouched in ready position, the sword close to her hip. “Afraid?”
Ulric snorted. “I’m simply concerned for your safety. You are no warrior.”
“Ah shit,” Reese said. “You’ve done it now, Ulric.” Some popcorn and a couch would make this moment perfect.
“I think I should teach him a lesson, don’t you agree, Reese?” Illa waved her sword in a flashing maneuver.
“Whoop his ass!”
Ulric rolled his eyes. He relaxed his stance, but didn’t move to ready position. That didn’t stop Illa from spinning in a circle and attacking him on the right.
Ulric blocked the blow with his blade, holding firm. “This is not necessary and will surely get you hurt.”
“I’ll heal,” Illa responded. “If you manage a hit.”
He blocked her next blow as well, and this time, he seemed to put a little more effort into it, because his immense Fae muscles were bulging beneath his black uniform.
“Lookin’ good, Illa!” Reese called.
And then it was on. Illa and Ulric parried in a beautiful dance—which was the only way to describe it. Illa was graceful, and Ulric was all strength and resistance. He was on the defensive, and Reese sensed his caution. He didn’t want to hurt Illa. But Illa was skilled with a sword and grinning as she went up against the tall warrior.
Reese was getting good pointers watching her sister stand off against a larger foe.
And then Illa slipped in her court heels.
Illa’s arm dipped and suddenly that graceful ballet was just a fraction off, her sword not fully blocking Ulric’s next counter. He accidentally slashed the side of her shoulder with his weapon, and Reese’s heart stopped.
Illa didn’t call out in pain, though her smile dropped and she looked down. But you would have thought she’d staggered and fallen, given Ulric’s reaction.
He dropped his weapon and grabbed her arm, apparently to steady her.
Illa looked mildly intrigued at the injury, even though her dress was quickly turning red.
Reese jumped to her feet and ran over—while Ulric picked up Illa and cradled her in his arms.
Illa’s eyebrows drew together. “It is only a cut. What are you doing?”
He brought her to a chair and set her down. Then tore open the dress where she’d been slashed, revealing one elegant shoulder and a cut that even Reese could tell wouldn’t affect Illa for long. The nasty gash was already stitching itself together before Reese’s eyes.
Which was pretty insane. She’d noticed how quickly her attacker after the ball had healed, but she’d never seen Fae healing take place.
Ulric sat back on his heels and let out a stiff sigh.
He wasn’t as stoic as Keen, but Reese was taken aback by his reaction. And not only his physical response of cradling Illa in his arms. He had panicked emotionally over her injury, though he knew as well as anyone how quickly she would heal.
The Fae were nonemotional on the surface, but that was all a mask. Beneath they were as capable of strong feelings as any human.
“Are you really okay?” Reese wanted to reassure herself as much as Ulric, whom she sensed needed it too.
“Of course.” Illa pushed up her torn sleeve and stood. “Round two?” she said to Ulric, her dress still torn and bloody.
He simply stared at her. But underneath…oh, underneath lay something else. He was angry.
Ulric stood and turned on his heel. He collected Reese’s sword and put it away. “Let us go, Reese. It is time we returned you to your room.”
Reese scurried after him, glancing back apologetically at Illa, who seemed perfectly fine and not the least bit ruffled after sustaining a gash by a sword. “Thank you for the demonstration. It was really helpful, until—Well, anyway, thank you.”
Illa waved her off. “My pleasure. I’ll be sure to join you for the next round.”
Ulric huffed out a disbelieving grunt and continued walking, never looking back.
Later that night, Elena and the others returned to Reese’s room, looking tired—each of them giving off vibes of deep apprehension.
“What’s going on?” Reese said.
Derek stashed his backpack through the wall. “We need to talk.”
Reese sat on the edge of the bed beside Elena, while Camille avoided the window. They’d been extra careful not to be seen since Illa had entered Reese’s room while they were here.
Theda clasped her hands in front of her. She appeared only a handful of years older than Elena and Reese, though she was much older. Aside from her fair coloring, Theda looked much like her daughter, with strong cheekbones and full, bow-shaped lips. “We need your help,” she said.
“You have it,” Reese answered. They’d risked everything to find her after Marlon and Portia kidnapped her. She’d do whatever she could to help them.
“Don’t agree without thinking it over,” Elena said. “This is dangerous. Listen to what we’re proposing first.”
“Okay.” Reese drew out the word. “You do understand that it’s dangerous for me here no matter what, right? They almost killed me the first few days inside that dungeon. And then there was the attack in the abandoned hallway with the lecherous Fae. However you look at it, I’m not safe. It’s why Keen has guards outside my door twenty-four-seven.”
Elena closed her eyes briefly, as though pained. “I didn’t know about the dungeon.” She stared at Reese. “I’m sorry.”
“Keen arrived here in time, thanks to all of you. You understand why I feel the need to help?”
Elena chewed the tip of her thumb. A nervous habit. “I understand, but this would make you even more vulnerable.”
Reese stood and threw up her hands. “I’m tired of sitting back while everyone else takes risks. I need to do this.”
Elena’s emotions indicated she wasn’t convinced, but she wasn’t the one who spoke next.
“Your friend deserves to fight for her freedom and rights as much as the rest of us,” Theda said. She stepped closer, her voice quieter than usual. “We’ve been meeting with leaders outside the palace. Influential Fae who are able to pull together a large army of loyalists, but…it is difficult to tell whom we can trust. We’ve had to reveal ourselves in order to speak with them. Some I’ve known all of my life and have no trepidation over. Others…”
“The Fae are crazy skilled at manipulation,” Elena explained. “They’ll say something in such a way that it won’t be a lie, but it won’t be the truth either.”
Theda brushed a hand over the painted warrior scene on the wall across from Reese’s bed. “It comes from millennia of getting around the truth when needed.”
“Why can’t Fae lie?” Reese had heard it said so many times. She wanted to know the reason. And to understand the depth of Keen’s pledge to Portia.
Theda slowly lowered her hand to her side. “You understand we descend from angels?”
Reese nodded.
“The angel blood doesn’t allow us to speak falsehoods. To kill, certainly, for angels fought and killed those they deemed harmful, like the Fallen ones. But to lie breaks a code of honor by which our forefathers lived, dating back to before Fae came into existence. Should we speak an untruth, our bodies would perish. One could argue that Portia was deceitful when she attacked my people and took over our kingdom, but she never spoke a lie. She manipulated the truth, hid her intentions, but never lied. That is how one gets around the truth… And this is where you come in, if you agree to help us. Fae may manipulate or hide the truth, but they cannot hide emotion. And emotion speaks truth.”
“Keen hides his emotions from me,” Reese said.
Camille raised her head. “You cannot sense his feelings?”
“No. He says we block each other.”
She looked at Theda. “He is telepathic.”
Understanding filled Theda’s eyes. “That happens sometimes when abilities are similar, or opposite—they may cancel each other out. It is possible you will run into other Fae where this is true, but it isn’t common. And I don’t believe it will happen among the group we plan to meet tonight. They are Newlanders who possess power over the elements, not the mind. Which is to our advantage. You can read their emotions, and they won’t be looking for your ability.”
“We’ll be heading to a seedy part of the village,” Derek said. “Leaving the palace poses a risk. As does returning.”
“Why return at all?” Reese asked. “This is what we want. To get out of here with our lives.”
“I understand your desire,” Theda said. “You wish to leave, and you have every right. But I must fight for my kingdom. The woman who calls herself its leader is ruthless. I fear she will abuse my people and lead them to their deaths. It is how she gained power. I do not put it past her to do it again if she thinks it will gain her control over the realm.”
Derek dropped his hand protectively on Elena’s shoulder. “The only way to gain back the kingdom is from the inside. We have to return to the palace.”
Reese thought about Keen. He’d sacrificed by pledging himself to that madwoman. To keep the peace. And possibly, in some twisted way, to protect Reese.
And she’d sat inside her room like a trapped bird, allowing everyone to make decisions for her.
She was no frail thing, no matter what Keen believed. She could help if given the chance.
Here was her chance.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
15
Reese stared at Elena’s outfit, then down at her own. “We so look like Jedi right now, only cuter. These belts are figure flattering.”
Elena tugged on a hat that was square on top, with flaps that covered her ears. She tied the leather strings below her chin. “Except for the hat.”
“Yeah, the hat’s not so cute.” Reese glanced at Elena’s boyfriend. “Why does Derek get the cool hooded cloak?”
Elena groaned. “Reese, don’t start bitching about the clothes.”
“No,” Theda said. “Your friend is correct. She stands out among us with her shorter stature.”
Reese straightened. “Why do people keep saying that? I’m beginning to get a complex. Five foot six isn’t short.”
“My mom’s right—you’re super short by Fae standards. And your Halven power level is totally obvious. Which is why you’ll be in the middle of us at all times. Camille thinks that if we stand together, there’s a chance your power level won’t be noticed.” She handed Reese a cloak. “Wear this, and hopefully anyone looking will assume you’re a child.”
Reese snatched the article. “I’ll try to not find that insulting.” She put the cloak on and pulled the hood over her head. The hem dragged like a wedding train when she walked. “I might trip in this thing.”
Theda pursed her lips and Camille tilted her head.
“That won’t do,” Camille said.
“No,” agreed Theda. “We must shorten it.” She turned to her friend. “Do you know how to use thread and needle?”
Camille raised her eyebrows incredulously. “I wasn’t taught those skills.”
“Nor was I,” Theda admitted. “Elena?”
“I cook. That’s my one domestic skill.”
They all turned to Derek.
“Don’t look at me!” he whispered loudly. “I’m no seamstress.”
“Everyone, simmer down,” Reese said. She turned to Theda. “You’re organizing followers, correct?”
“Yes,” Theda said cautiously.
“Can we begin at the palace?”
“Too dangerous,” Derek blurted.
Elena shook her head. “Derek’s right. We considered it before we arrived. If something went wrong—if word got into the wrong hands—we’d be trapped. At least by beginning our search for loyalists outside the palace, there’s always the possibility of escape. The palace, on the other hand, is fortified with soldiers at every turn. We’d never make it out before they caught us.”
“The Presence Charm we triggered when we arrived has worn off by now,” Camille added, “but they have not stopped searching for the intruders. It seems Portia isn’t taking any chances.”
Theda nodded. “And if what you said about Keen’s oath to Portia is true, we cannot be certain he won’t betray us. We would be taking a large risk going to him.”
Reese lifted the hem of her cloak and flung it over her arm to get it out of the way. “I wasn’t thinking about Keen. I was thinking of someone whose emotions indicated she isn’t happy about Portia’s new position. I think there’s a good chance she’d be on our side.”
“Do you trust this person?” Theda asked.
“Enid is a palace servant, and she’s been kind. She snuck me books. I don’t think she’ll betray us.”
“It is all we have,” Camille said. “Our trust in others. And your ability to tell when one’s emotions conflict with their words. You will go to this girl, and she will help cover for you while you are gone.”
Reese shook out the cloak. “Not only that—Enid knows how to sew.”
Reese, Elena, Derek, and the two Fae escaped New Kingdom palace with a little help from Enid, who, with a conspiratorial look, asked no questions at their request to cover for Reese’s absence. Enid also did a quick hem job on the overlong cloak.
Rubbing the shoulder she’d landed on—or fallen on, to be more accurate—Reese stood and hurried after Elena and the others, who’d already recovered from the unusual transportation and were making their way down a cobbled street. “So that was a portal?”
Elena looked back. “Well, one of Camille’s portals.” Her booted feet sloshed through a puddle from what must have been a recent rain. The sky was dark, made darker with cloud cover—the only light came from the soft glow of gas lamps amid gray stone buildings straight out of another century. “Camille’s portals are bumpier than the regular ones.”
Reese chuckled quietly. “Right, because traveling through space is so normal. Do regular portals toss you around like the Zipper without a cage?”
“A zipper?”
“Not a zipper, but the Zipper. You know, the carnival ride?”
“Oh yeah, spinning is a part of all portals. So is the rainbow of lights. But Camille’s portals are rougher for some reason.”
“What about the sense of being shot from a cannon onto the ground?”
Elena laughed lightly. “That’s specific to Camille’s portals too.”
Camille looked over and grinned.
Elena’s face scrunched. “I’ve almost gotten
to the point where I can land on my feet instead of my face. But I’m not as coordinated as you, Reese. With that cool tumble roll you did, you looked pretty good.”
“I’ll remember that when my shoulder is black and blue tomorrow.”
Elena grinned and stopped behind her mother, who was standing outside a doorway with a sign above it that read Lucifer’s Larder.
Broken wrought iron covered the single window on the building, and the sagging wooden overhang was one hard rain away from collapsing. “Classy. This place is safe, right?”
“Of course not,” Theda said, and opened the door.
“Just making sure.” Reese held her breath and stepped in after Elena, but before Camille and Derek. As they’d agreed beforehand, her friends surrounded her to make her Halven power level less noticeable.
Derek and Elena were Halven as well, but once they had drunk from the Ancient Allon to increase their powers—and as it turned out, their height and strength—their power levels became closer to that of Fae. Unless someone was paying close attention, they wouldn’t notice a difference—which was deceptive, because Elena and Derek had more magical ability than most Fae. They came from strong angel lines, and it showed.
Inside the small, den-like room, round tables and wooden chairs crowded the space, and were filled with men. Mostly. The few women there looked odd, and it took Reese a second to figure out why.
The women inside Lucifer’s Larder wore risqué clothing, something Reese thought she’d never see in Tirnan. Oh, these women weren’t wearing anything like what a girl going out on the town back home would wear. But bared shoulders and arms, and billowing, gauzy gowns where Reese could detect the outline of legs? That was downright scandalous for Tirnan.
“What is this place?” she whispered to no one in particular.
Camille looked about. “Part pub. Part brothel.”
Reese raised her eyebrow. “A brothel? In Tirnan? Among the blessed Fae? I thought you guys were pure and only procreated for heirs?”
Camille shrugged her dainty shoulder. “We are not perfect.”
Reese grumbled an obscenity. If this went on in Keen’s homeland, what was up with him being a bastard about her ball gown that revealed far less skin than what these ladies were wearing? Granted, these ladies were presumably offering up their bodies, but still.
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