by Jayne Faith
I hung up and made my way to the front door. Peering through the peephole, I confirmed it was Maxen and let him in.
He held up a tablet and passed it to me. “Got this from a page headed this way.”
I let out a short laugh. “I was just lecturing Amalie about not performing duties that her underlings should be doing.”
He appeared to be in a somewhat buoyant mood, seemingly more at ease in my presence than he’d been in a long time. Perhaps having Nicole home had boosted his spirits enough that he could be less dour in my presence.
I crooked my finger at him. “You’ve got to see this.”
I led him through the quarters and back out to the courtyard. I figured if it had lifted my spirits, it couldn’t hurt to take him out there for our meeting.
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he took in the little outdoor scene. “Quite lovely,” he said.
We started to wander around the perimeter of the courtyard.
“I’m sure there are things you need to discuss,” I said. “But I want to let you know about something I brought up with King Oberon.”
He tilted a look at me.
I took a breath. “I mentioned the hidden New Gargs th—that Marisol spoke of months ago,” I said, faltering a bit when I got to her name.
Maxen took it in stride, but he looked concerned. “How did that come up?”
I recounted the discussion with Eldon and the High King about the blood of the Fomoire awakening.
His blue eyes widened with surprise and wonder. “That’s . . . well, it’s almost hard to believe. But in some strange way it seems right.”
We were silent for a few moments.
“Oberon was practically giddy,” I said. “He seems to think this—we—will be his secret weapon against the Tuatha. The power of ancient god blood to fight the vengeful gods of today.”
Maxen’s concern deepened into two vertical lines between his brows, and he exhaled a long breath through his nose. “That’s not surprising. After what the Tuatha did to him in the Giants’ Causeway, I’m sure he’s extremely eager to hit hard when they attack.”
I blinked. “First of all, I wouldn’t expect Oberon to just be thinking of himself. Isn’t he more focused on the larger purpose of saving Faerie? After all, he’s the High King of the entire realm.”
Maxen slid a significant look at me, his mouth tightening. “Oh, sure he is. But it’s also become intensely personal to him.”
I frowned at the ground and then squinted up into the blue sky. Of course Maxen was right. I’d sensed something off about Oberon’s behavior but brushed past it at the time. I could only blame my inexperience with kings and politics. But now it made sense. Oberon’s eagerness was, of course, partly driven by his own agenda. Maybe largely driven by it. The realization didn’t really change things, not in any profound ways, but my view of the entire situation had subtly shifted. It was a small shift, but not a meaningless one.
Maxen was still watching me. “There was a first of all. What’s the second of all?” he prompted.
My lips parted. “Uh, I don’t remember,” I said sheepishly. “Too much going on in here, I guess.” I tapped my temple. “I’m losing my edge. But back to the so-called hidden New Gargs. Was that true?”
He tucked his chin into his chest. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Where are they?” I asked, gaping at him. I realized I hadn’t quite believed it, that there were more people of stone blood out there. When Marisol had spoken of them, it had felt more like a myth than a reality.
“Mostly in the Earthly realm.”
I shook my head once. “Are they changelings? Do they even know they’re Fae?”
“Most of them know.”
“How many?”
We’d reached the little waterfall, and Maxen stopped to gaze at it. I stood beside him.
“I’m not sure, exactly,” he said, staring at the moving water. “We’d only barely started the project of contacting them, before . . .”
Before I drove a sword through his mother, cutting that work short.
“It’s going to be quite a job to locate them,” he continued, saving me from having to respond. “And most of them are of my mother’s generation. One of her prophecies told her long ago that the New Gargs needed to hide some of their numbers, that it was the only way to ensure the survival of our people.”
I frowned. “But if there were enough of them, it really could have helped her bid for kingdomhood to have them join us here in Faerie. I always believed that was her top priority.”
When Marisol had petitioned to have the Order raised to an official kingdom, one of the arguments against her was our small numbers.
“I guess you could say she had two top priorities,” Maxen said. “One was a kingdom for the New Gargs. The other was the survival of our people. She had to balance both of them. I would guess there are maybe four hundred more stone bloods out there in the Earthly realm.”
I wasn’t sure what to say for a long moment.
“Those people,” I said quietly. “They gave up everything based on Marisol’s prophecy, going across the hedge to try to live as humans. Non-Fae. I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for them.”
Sure, I’d run off from Faerie as soon as I graduated, but I hadn’t left for good. I was still Fae, and I never had to pretend to be otherwise. As badly as I’d wanted to leave the fortress, I would have been devastated to be completely cut off from my homeland, though I might not have admitted it as a cocky eighteen-year-old mercenary.
“Most of them have been completely cut off from all news of Faerie this whole time,” Maxen said.
My frown deepened. “Are they going to feel their sacrifice was all in vain? Now that Marisol is gone?”
“I don’t know. They left many years ago, knowing it was a safeguard, that no one truly knew what the future held.”
“Some of them may not even want to come back. By now they’ve got jobs, friends, probably some have families.”
“If Finvarra’s attempt to control us with the Stone affected those of New Garg blood like Jasper who weren’t even in the fortress, it may have also happened to those on the other side of the hedge. I have a funny feeling most are feeling the tug of their homeland right now.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
“Then we definitely need to invite them to come back to Faerie,” I said. I let out a quiet, heavy sigh.
“I will continue the work of finding them,” Maxen said.
I nodded. “I imagine that Oberon’s going to be calling upon us very soon to figure out what our god blood can do. When I left, he and Eldon were talking about consulting experts and scholarly works.”
“Let’s wait until he pushes us on that. We have enough to contend with here for the moment.”
“Right,” I said. I took a deep breath. I’d been avoiding a topic that I knew I couldn’t dance around any longer. “On that note, what of my failed assassins?”
I braced myself as I looked at him, as if his response would come as a physical blow.
“Oliver is probably the better one to fill you in on that topic, but . . .” Maxen met my gaze, and his sapphire blue eyes were full of regret. “Some were caught. Several escaped through doorways to other realms before they could be apprehended.”
I passed a hand over my eyes. “How many were caught?”
“Four.”
“I’m going to have to execute them, aren’t I?”
“You’re Queen of this realm. The choice is yours.”
“But?”
Maxen chewed his bottom lip for a second or two. “You were clear. You said that any subject who raised a weapon at you would be punished to the fullest extent. Going back on that would only weaken your position.”
My stomach was trying to compact itself into a hard little point, and my rib cage seemed to constrict around my lungs.
“I don’t want to kill my own subjects, Maxen,” I whispered.
Misery crept through me, gripping me until I ached. I dropped my head and squeezed my eyes closed, wishing with everything I had that I could figure out another way.
Maxen’s hand touched my upper arm, and I looked up. “This, figuring this out, will be the worst moment. This will be the lowest point of your reign. You simply have to find a way to get through it.”
I nodded, but I honestly couldn’t imagine how I’d do it.
Chapter 14
I CONSULTED MY father about the four traitors who’d been caught, and I broke down once briefly during the conversation, pleading for an answer, any alternate solution. He’d remained quiet, his hand on my shoulder, until I composed myself.
Ultimately, we decided the sentences needed to be carried out soon. He said he could have things arranged by the following evening. The four traitors would be executed by a poison that put the victim to sleep before killing. It was the most humane method we could come up with.
That night in my new quarters, I paced, utterly heartsick. I tried to find solace in the moonlight-bathed courtyard, listening to the trickle of water over the rocks of the waterfall, but it didn’t soothe me.
I knew Oliver and Maxen would disagree with me, but I had to offer the traitors something other than death. I had to do it because I didn’t want my first major act as Queen to be that of killing my own people. Not without some shred of mercy in it. In thinking about the hidden ones who’d willingly left Faerie, cutting themselves off from their homeland for decades, I realized there was a grave enough punishment that I could offer, one that would spare the traitors’ lives but still take nearly everything from them. And I planned to give them the choice.
At two in the morning, I put on my coronation dress, still dirty from the ordeal of the day but the most regal thing I owned, and threw the heavy jeweled robe over it. I stepped out of my quarters to find a couple of surprised guards posted there.
“I’m going to the fortress jail,” I said.
“I’ll escort you,” one of them said, a burly woman with cropped hair.
She went ahead, leading me through the quiet corridors down to the basement.
I went into the reception area of the fortress jail and found Nanette, an older woman with reading glasses on a thin chain around her neck, on duty.
“Nanette, how are you?” I asked.
She rose and curtsied. “Can’t complain, Your Majesty.”
She’d always been a woman of few words.
“I need to speak to the four prisoners awaiting execution,” I said. “Can you safely gather them all together?”
“Let me get a deputy to help me,” she said. She sat down, put on her glasses, and tapped on the tablet wired into a wall. “Patrick will be here in just a few moments, Your Majesty.”
I nodded and went to sit in one of the hard plastic chairs. I imagined she’d had to rouse Patrick from sleep. To his credit, he arrived in less than ten minutes, panting lightly and with his hair a little messed, but dressed in uniform.
The two of them went into the corridor beyond the desk that led to the cells. I heard the clangs of heavy doors opening and closing.
Nanette and Patrick returned.
“Your Majesty,” she said. “We’ve collected the prisoners in the first cell. We left the door open.”
I rose and nodded. My guard followed me back.
“I’ll speak to them alone,” I said.
I went into the cell and pulled the door closed behind me.
Four Carraig slumped on the narrow bed, their hands restrained behind their backs. Two men and two women. One of the women looked several years younger than me, twenty-one or twenty-two, I guessed.
I stood before them with my chin raised, regarding each of them in turn.
“You’ve been informed that you’ll be executed for the crime of attempting to murder your monarch?” I asked.
One of the men scowled. The other three prisoners nodded, and the young woman’s face crumpled for a second as she fought to keep her composure.
“The executions will take place about eighteen hours from now. Death by poison.”
I allowed several seconds of silence to pass. The young woman was crying, silent tears streaming down her face. I focused on my own breaths and maintaining a stony expression. Inside, I wanted to cry with her.
“I was stupid, Your Majesty,” the sobbing young woman said, her breath hitching. “So stupid. I know it’s too late, but I want you to know that I see the error of my choices. I listened to people I shouldn’t have. I didn’t think for myself. And now I know I must face my punishment.”
By the time she finished speaking, she’d managed to control her voice. Her dark brown eyes met mine, and I could see she was sincere.
“And the rest of you?” I asked.
“I have a son, Your Majesty,” said one of the men, the one who hadn’t scowled. He had pale blue eyes and orange-blonde hair. He pressed his trembling lips together for a moment. “I thought I was being principled, but all I’ve done is make my boy an orphan.”
He turned his head to the side, and a tear leaked down his cheek. I held my breath, willing my eyes to stay dry.
The other woman was perhaps a bit older than Oliver, muscled and jowly. She looked like she’d be a formidable foe in a swordfight.
“I live with my choice, Your Majesty,” she said. Her voice was raspy and deep for a woman. “I regret it now, but it was mine to make, and I have to live with it.”
I shifted my attention to the other man. He squinted up at me with dark eyes and then spat on the floor. Okay, then.
“I’ve come to offer you something,” I said. “But it’s not without a grave price.”
It was quiet enough to hear water dripping somewhere.
“If you have sincere regret for attacking me, I will allow you to live. But you will be stripped of your magic and sent across the hedge to the Earthly realm, and you will never be able to return to Faerie.”
“My regret couldn’t be more deep or sincere,” the young woman said.
The man with the son looked up at me with watery eyes. “I’ve never regretted anything more, Your Highness.”
“I already said I regret my actions,” the thick lady said.
The scowling man sneered. “I regret nothing, except that I failed to end your traitorous life. Marisol Lothlorien was the greatest New Garg to ever breathe the fair air of Faerie, and you murdered her, you worthless whore of a girl.”
I blinked but didn’t otherwise react.
“Three of you will be expelled from Faerie by this time tomorrow night,” I said. I faced the angry man. “And you’ve clearly decided you will die for your crime.”
I turned, opened the door, and exited the cell. With my guard trailing me, I left the jail and walked woodenly back to my quarters. Cold sweat dampened my underarms, and my legs felt unsteady. As soon as I was alone inside my apartment, I sagged against the wall.
I didn’t feel disappointed or relieved. I just felt hollow. And I hoped with every shred of my being that Maxen was right, that this would be the lowest point of my reign.
I’d hoped the morning would bring some peace, but it didn’t. I still had to face one execution and expel three Carraig from Faerie.
I went about making arrangements for the three prisoners who would be set free in the Earthly realm. It required a consultation with Maxen about the fortress coffers, as I had to hire a Druid monk on short notice to come and perform the rites that would cut the prisoners off from their magic, and it wasn’t cheap.
I hadn’t given much thought to the financial aspect of running a kingdom up to that point. In Faerie, money didn’t hold the power it did in the Earthly realm. Barter was a more common method of exchange, and each kingdom carved out niches of goods for trade and struck deals with other realms for supplies they lacked.
The Stone Order
was so small in territory, we had to import much of our food and nearly all of our supplies. Besides the fortress itself, our only other land holdings were a handful of mines in very secret locations. Having a great affinity for all types of stone, from lowly gravel to priceless precious gems, it was fitting that the Carraig realm fed its treasury by mining such materials.
The fortress had been riding on the existing agreements Marisol had put in place. But I would need someone to step in to manage that aspect of the kingdom, and soon. I had no clear sense of the extent of our dependence on any Unseelie realms for our supplies, but we would need to have backup plans in place if those agreements crumbled.
The Druid arrived late in the afternoon. I asked Amalie and Oliver to appoint people to oversee the process, as I had other things to attend to. I also had no desire to witness it firsthand. Returning to my office, I took up the list of still-vacant positions in my court. Trying to focus on that task instead of the impending execution, I called the page at the reception desk and asked her to track down Shane, the young commander in the battle ranks.
About twenty minutes later, he arrived. Only a couple of years out of the academy, he’d quickly established himself as an excellent teacher as well as a rising star in the military. We used to be on good terms, but since I’d returned as Queen, he’d been openly wary of me.
He bowed and sat in the chair across from me. I studied him for a moment. His quick, dark eyes had an exotic shape to them. He was a bit on the slim side for a Carraig, but he was all wiry muscle. Dark, straight hair just brushed the tops of his ears, his last military cut grown out enough to almost look shaggy. Shane was a handsome man, skilled, ambitious, and passionate about what he did. I could see why Emmaline crushed so hard on him. Plus, there was the titillating aspect of the teacher-student relationship. From the way she’d spoken of him recently, I got the sense that something might have developed between them. They were only three or four years apart.
I decided not to beat around the hedge. “How many officers are there who outrank you?” I asked.
“Seven, Your Highness,” he said, clearly hesitant to speak of my detractors.