Rogue's Paradise

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by Jeffe Kennedy


  Okay, I panicked a little. Arguably, I had what I came for. Though I obviously wouldn’t tell Starling all of it. Interesting that they intended to bring Walter.

  The rushing power of the scepter cushioned the rawness of exposing myself to that past trauma, so I rode it longer. Why not visit all of my old friends? I thought of Blackbird and, indeed, found her already back on land, riding behind Fergus on his battle stallion, racing dramatically across the countryside. Her black hair streamed behind her like a pennant of silk and she looked dreamily happy, leaning her cheek against her husband’s back. Fergus must have been still in princess-rescuing mode because he looked like a handsome avenging prince.

  I checked in on Falcon’s army. No longer encamped by the sea engaging in entertaining but pointless naval battles, the entire force was marching instead, traveling at magically amplified speeds. As the general, Falcon rode at the forefront, stern in mirror-bright armor.

  I pulled back my view again, trying to get a feel for the landscape. Apparently it didn’t work that way, however. I might be able to “see” physical people and places, but only with a specific focus. I couldn’t seem to just soar about and take things in. I needed people and I’d pretty much used up everyone I knew, except Mistress Nancy who might be already here and, well, Titania.

  She might be tucked away in my secured mental file folder, but she still blazed on the edge of my consciousness. It was tempting to drift closer, to sniff around a bit. Getting better at my control, I coasted closer, careful to stay back far enough that she couldn’t detect my presence as Marquise had. Her palace seemed very quiet, with none of the activity I’d seen in other vision visits. She had to be there, however, if my mind’s eye drew me to that place.

  I tried seeing on the mass-mind level, instead. As if I’d flipped the lens on a microscope from bright field to phase-contrast, a new level of detail jumped out. The black, oily rope strands she used to connect to the people she manipulated radiated out from her palace in a complex, horrifying web.

  She was in there, all right, spinning her nasty plans.

  Worse, amid the many cords that connected me to Rogue, which seemed iridescent with golden light in my mental metaphor, fine black threads snaked through, seeking me. Reaching from her to Rogue to me.

  Worming their way to our unborn child.

  I couldn’t allow it. Working my mind through the cords, I pushed outward, using my own light and power—shimmering platinum and green—through the fibers, filling them and using that pressure to force oily black away.

  Preoccupied with the effort, I didn’t realize how much closer to Titania’s palace and presence I’d drifted. When I did notice, and tried to pull back again, I couldn’t. As if caught in a tractor beam from the Death Star, I gained speed toward her instead.

  Pulling on more power, I fought the drag. To no avail.

  I reached for the cat to assist, but she didn’t seem to be present. Not active in this dimension? I dug for that connection to Mother Earth. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

  My virtual self hurtled into Titania’s palace of unearthly beauty and unimaginable cruelty. Deeper, through twisting tunnels, I helplessly tumbled. Until I stopped, abruptly, in an inner cavern—perhaps deep inside the mountain, the walls like blacked-out plate glass windows—everything looped and shrouded with billows of cobwebs.

  All around, fae of both higher and lower forms were cocooned, wrapped in the web, some screaming, some weeping, some ominously shriveled and still, while Titania reclined in the center. She wore the same face, no longer half-melted from my dragon-blood grenade, but the rest of her looked more like a spider than a woman. In addition to her multijointed fingers, she sported two extra limbs, her arms and legs the same length as those, and all tapped into her various cocooned prey.

  Sucking sustenance from them as she healed.

  Her lovely face didn’t move, just as a plastic doll couldn’t change its expression, but she nevertheless smiled to see me. The troublesome sorceress pays me a visit? How obliging of her. You’ll be exactly what I need. Come here, tasty lamb.

  Unable to resist, I did as she commanded, even as I shrieked inside. Surely it couldn’t end like this. Flailing, I pulled on the connection to Rogue.

  Pulled with all my might and will.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In Which I Encounter a Setback

  Every rule was made to be broken.

  ~Big Book of Fairyland, “Rules of Magic”

  An abrupt yank.

  My head spun, giving me vertigo as if I’d dropped without warning down the last high hill of the Mister Twister roller coaster and I was eight years old again, screaming my guts out in raw, plunging terror.

  “Gwynn!” Rogue’s voice rang through my terror, strong, steady and full of irresistible command. “Attend me immediately.”

  I opened my eyes to find him bare inches away, eyes midnight dark, his ferociously strong grip biting into my arms with bruising force. No, my eyes had been already open—I just looked through them again, the physical vision less brilliantly acute than the virtual seeing. Energy from both the cat and Mother Earth poured in and my heart started beating with an alarming thump.

  “Gwynn,” he repeated. Cranking to life again, my brain delivered the information that he’d been saying it for a while.

  “I’m here,” I said. “I’m back. And ouch, you can let go before you break my arms.”

  Instead of relieved joy, he glared at me with enough fury to make my heart skip a beat. But he relaxed his grip. Still not letting go of me, however.

  Behind him, in my peripheral vision, Athena held the scepter, her purple eyes deep bruises in her ghostly white face. Darling Hercules stood on her shoulders, back arched Halloween-cat-style. As I spoke, he lowered his spine, but still fixed me with an angry stare.

  The silence stretched on, nobody moving. My hands throbbed as if burned and I really wanted to look at them. Rogue seemed to have a hold on my gaze, however, and I couldn’t look away.

  “I’m okay. Let me go.”

  “What in the name of Titania did you think you were doing?” Rogue asked in a menacingly low tone that nevertheless echoed back from the dome with deep reverberations. “I swear I should chain you to the bed, if only to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Don’t ever say that, even in jest.” My own temper, raw from all I’d seen, flared in response.

  “I’m not joking, foolish Gwynn. I’d rather you hate me than be lost to her as you nearly were.”

  “You’d rather destroy my spirit than see me dead?”

  “Yes.” He stared back, unapologetic. “And you wouldn’t be dead. Just wishing for it. And that wish, my dear Gwynn, is one wish that would never, ever come true.”

  The image of those cocooned people came back to me and the gorge rose in my throat. “I’m going to be sick.”

  Finally he released me, but with a fury that still simmered palpably. He stepped away and I fought to control the nausea.

  “Give me that toy,” he commanded Athena and, mutely, she handed it over. Rogue looked as if he wanted to break it over his knee. He raked me with a cold look of contempt. “I’ve brought your midwife. Have her see that you didn’t endanger the babe with your wantonly reckless behavior. And get those cursed dragon eggs out of here—they stink.” Without another word, he strode out, taking the scepter with him.

  “Goddamn it.” I fumed. Where did he get off acting like I’d disobeyed or something? Particularly when he did not get to give me orders, no matter what our relationship status was, and besides, he’d never told me not to use the scepter that way. Wantonly reckless behavior.

  “I’m so sorry, Gwynn.” Athena absently petted Darling Hercules, who slinked out from under her hand and trotted over to jump onto my lap, purring and sniffing my hands. They looked normal, but still sizzled where they’d been in contact with the crystal globe. “You looked dead. I panicked and summoned Lord Rogue. I should have known you had it under control.”

&n
bsp; “Is that how it looked?” I rubbed Darling’s ears and scooted him off my lap so I could stand, stretching against the stiffness and wincing at the catch in the small of my back. “It’s good you called him. I needed help.” Which didn’t help my pride to admit, but I’d own up to it.

  “Are you going to be sick still?”

  “No—that passed.” But I was such a morass of other emotions, including roiling anger at Rogue’s behavior and obvious displeasure with me, that I couldn’t sort it out.

  Athena nodded, fingers tugging at her dagger but not drawing it. Starling would have demanded to know what happened. I appreciated that Athena didn’t ask. “I’ll take you to Mistress Nancy then.”

  “She can’t come here?”

  “No. Lord Rogue says no humans in this tower—this wing of the castle, actually.”

  “Does he now?” More of his autocratic decisions. I nearly told Athena to overrule that order, for the sheer joy of countermanding His Royal Highness. But that might just get Athena and Nancy in trouble.

  No, this was about him and me. He did not get to run my life, no matter how much he tried. I wanted to find him and tear him a new one. To add to my internal confusion, I also wanted to apologize and convince him not to be mad at me. Which was ridiculous, since I was mad enough at him that I didn’t want to even lay eyes on him. I hated the way he’d looked at me—and felt simultaneously outraged over it.

  What a freaking mess.

  This was where love got you. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to walk away and never speak to him ever again.

  Not very mature of me. So, in lieu of confronting him further, if I even could, I followed Athena to visit Mistress Nancy. We wended our way down the tower steps, Darling Hercules leaping down them like an antelope clearing barbwire fences, with easy grace and an abundance of energy, then across several great halls and to another wing. I couldn’t call it grungy, but this side of the massive complex definitely paled in grandeur to the rest. We passed kitchens clearly intended for the human denizens and I blanched at the unclean conditions. Starling would have to add that to her list, and if Lord Rogue objected, he could go fuck himself.

  Mistress Nancy had been installed in a decent-sized and sunny suite of rooms, with a set of glass doors that opened into a private courtyard. Okay, not exactly a slum. She was out there showing a redheaded boy some kind of sandbox. I’d forgotten about her son when I’d asked for her. What was his name? Billy.

  Nancy straightened when she saw me, smiling in genuine welcome. “Lady Sorceress—you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’d worried after ye.” Her broad Cockney accent sounded so familiar and welcome that I impulsively took the few steps to hug her. Surprised, she patted my back. “‘ere now, lovey. Don’t you fret. Mistress Nancy will take care of you and the wee bairn.”

  I blinked back tears and hiccuped a little. Then let her go and scrubbed at my face, embarrassed. I seemed to be weeping all over everyone lately. Not a good image for the powerful sorceress and Lady of the Castle of Dark Gods. If Rogue even still wanted me. Oh wait, of course he did. He just wanted me more obedient, curse him.

  He’d talked a good game there for a while, but the megalomaniac never lurked all that far from the surface. Never mind that he had good cause to be upset, seeing as how I’d nearly succumbed to Titania’s clutches, killing my body and the baby along with it. But he didn’t have to be such an ass about it.

  I really could not live with someone who talked to me that way.

  “Billy, you stay out here and play in the magic sandbox while I give the Lady Sorceress a look-see. She’s your liege, so you should bow and show your best manners.”

  “Oh, no, he doesn’t have to do—” I broke off at her sharp look.

  “Oh, yes, he does. Best to learn his place now than step over the line foolishly later.”

  I saw her point and did my best to accept the little boy’s timorous scraping. Once released, he scampered with good spirits back to the sandbox. It looked to be filled with a shimmering material composed of rainbow particles—a sort of cross between Silly Putty and glitter. At his touch, the stuff swirled and built itself into a tower, which he shaped, adding on ledges and windows.

  “It’s a lovely gift to have waiting for him.” Nancy gazed at the boy fondly. “You’re most thoughtful to provide it.”

  “I didn’t,” I replied, noting that she’d been careful not to thank me. Most likely it had been Rogue’s thoughtfulness, but I wasn’t about to hand him any credit at the moment. Nancy had a canny and careful mind, which was why she’d survived so well in Faerie without magic. Though, judging by the rest of us immigrants, the magic should be affecting her in some way. Perhaps she possessed a gift that emerged under specific circumstances, like Fergus had.

  She made Athena and Darling Hercules wait outside also, which they seemed happy enough to do, though Darling immediately swatted the magic sand castle to Billy’s scolding complaints. Nancy settled me on the bed and gave me a surprisingly thorough and professional examination. I shouldn’t have been taken aback, but it felt like so long since anyone familiar with human medicine had touched me, that it seemed almost foreign now. I also had very little idea how much expertise a midwife of her era would have. I’d somehow expected her to wave magic hands over me and pronounce the baby fine, not give me the full gynecological prodding.

  Though I supposed that was why I’d hired her.

  “Ro—Lord Rogue asked you to come nicely, didn’t he? He didn’t bully or demand?”

  Her head popped up over my skirt-clad knees and she winked at me. “He’s not so much for asking nicely, but I did drive a most excellent bargain, if I do say so myself. ‘Specially since I woulda come anyway, seeing as how it’s you, dearie.”

  “Thank you.” I stared up at the ceiling, trying not to flinch. For the baby, I reminded myself. Had my body really died while I was out of it for so long? A horrible, foolish risk to have taken. But I hadn’t known, had I? Mistress Nancy withdrew her hand but flipped my skirts up higher, laying her cheek against my round belly. It felt like the baby still lived. I could have looked for that living cord but even the thought of opening my mind into that phase world at the moment made me queasy.

  “Is—”

  “Hush now,” she directed.

  I lay still, wondering if she could truly hear anything. It seemed not possible and I waited for permission to speak, at which point I would offer to wish up a stethoscope.

  “All’s fine.” She pronounced, drawing my skirts down, though she didn’t look happy. “I’d say you’re about five months along in human time. You’ll start showing more and more. Have you had the sicks much?”

  “Not really.”

  “Lucky you. Still, you’re a bit roughed-up-like in your nethers. Perhaps tell Lord Rogue to take it a bit easier on you.”

  My face went totally hot and I knew I must be scarlet with the blush. “Ah. I, um, I didn’t think it would...” I floundered.

  “Hurt the babe? No, Lady Sorceress, it won’t. Spare the gymnastics, but the child is well cushioned. I’m thinking more of you.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did he force you into this, Gwynn? Because I’ll help you away if you ask it.”

  More people wanting to rescue me. And awful if she thought he’d been raping me.

  “No. No—not at all. I, um, I love him, see and I agreed to the wedding. It’s fine.” It sounded weak to me, especially in the face of her doubt and my not particularly feeling the love at the moment. It flashed in my head that poor, doomed Cecily had said the same things.

  Though I couldn’t hear Nancy’s thoughts as I could most people’s, her expression said it all.

  “Really. I have things under control.” Ha to that!

  “All right then, dearie.” She patted my knee, indulging me, not believing. “Up with you then. I’m going to see that you get food from the human kitchens. The fae food isn’t all that good for a growing bairn.”

  Ugh. And Nancy likely had no bett
er idea of food hygiene than the rest of them. All the more reason to set Starling on the task. I could wish my own food clean, but I’d be happier to purge the source, for everyone’s benefit.

  Athena elected to stay playing with Billy. I guessed him to be about eight or nine and she looked remarkably about the same age, with her girlish size. Except for the punked blue hair and cynical expression, she could pass for his playmate. They’d made considerable progress on the castle and were debating how to create a waterfall and moat like the real ones. She seemed happy in a carefree way I’d never known her to be. I also knew that, with her awakened consciousness, she ached for family relationships. It might be good for her to hang with Nancy and Billy.

  Somebody should be happy around here.

  Darling Hercules went with me, cheerfully agreeing to show me the way to the dragon’s tower. Part of my problem stemmed from the castle complex not following what would be a standard building design to me. Titania’s palace and Castle Brightness had been this way also—I’d just had people leading the way in those places. Or dragging me about, more often. Castle of the Dark Gods had been obviously modified and added on to over vast expanses of time, making it almost more like a small walled city. More than that, the insectile quality of the fae perspective showed through in its design. Spirals instead of rectangles, spherical and ovoid rooms, smaller chambers leading into larger ones in long chains. There were no central hallways, but rather a concatenation of passages, no doubt exacerbated by the magically moving entrance gate. What I’d thought of as the main hallway when the gang arrived had been only one of many.

  No wonder I’d gotten lost.

  If I was going to live here any length of time—and it was a mark of my black mood that it seemed unlikely and even unthinkable at this point—then I’d need a system of markers. Hell, I’d make signs for me and the kid and hang them on the walls.

 

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