The Faerie Guardian & The Faerie Prince

by Rachel Morgan

  Mr. Hart, who has regained his composure since his wife entered the room, says, “Something wrong, dear?”

  “That woman!” Mrs. Hart picks up her spoon. “I don’t know why she keeps pretending we have anything in common anymore. I’m just going to have to ‘forget’ once again to make a plan to see her.” She spoons some fruit into her mouth. “Are Grace and Jamie up yet?”

  “I haven’t seen them this morning,” Mr. Hart says. He puts his newspaper down and reaches for his mug.

  I pull my eye away from the hole and look over at Ryn. “Aren’t children supposed to be at school at this time of day?”

  “Maybe they’re on holiday.”

  I return my gaze to the window and hear Mrs. Hart asking, “Who were you talking to when I walked into the room?”

  “Oh, that was David.” Mr. Hart takes a sip from his mug and disappears behind his newspaper.

  “David? You’ve been talking to him a lot in the past few days. Is something going on?”

  Mr. Hart lowers the crinkled pages just enough to look at his wife over the top. “Of course not, dear. Can’t I have a simple conversation with my son?”

  “No, I don’t think you can, actually. He only ever seems to call when he’s in trouble and needs something.”

  “Well, trust me,” Mr. Hart says, lifting the newspaper once more. “He isn’t in trouble this time.”

  “David. That’s the youngest son, right?” I say to Ryn.

  “Yes.”

  I watch Mr. Hart take a sip of his coffee. “I say we try a compulsion potion on him right now and compel him to tell the truth. We’ll be done with this assignment in an hour.”

  “I would’ve suggested that myself, Violet, except for the part where he’ll be able to see us putting the potion in his coffee.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Oryn. I do actually have a plan.” I close up the hole in front of my eye and think of the kitchen instead. A doorway opens near the stove where Cecelia is nudging a poached egg out of its mold and onto a plate. I sit down on the kitchen floor and remove my potions kit from my bag. After enlarging it, I look through the vials for one labeled Compel.

  There isn’t one.

  Great. The one thing I didn’t add to my kit. I do have one labeled Confuse, though, which might have a similar effect. Mr. Hart will tell us anything if we confuse him enough.

  By the time I’ve decided on the confusion potion, Cecelia is heading to the dining room with the plate in her hand. I jump up, run after her, and manage to throw a few drops onto a buttered piece of toast before she leaves the kitchen.

  Time to watch and wait. I observe Mr. Hart through the crack between the door and the wall. He eats quickly, washing the meal down with a few gulps of his coffee. “Well, I’ll see you after golf,” he says to his wife. He folds the newspaper and leaves it on the table. “You’ll confirm with the caterers for tomorrow night?”

  “Yes, it’s on my list,” Mrs. Hart says. She picks up her phone and moves her thumb across the screen.

  I wait for Mr. Hart to leave the room, then tiptoe after him. I pass a shimmer in the air, and a moment later Ryn is walking beside me. Mr. Hart turns a corner and we follow quietly. I watch for signs of confusion—stumbling, shaking his head, talking to himself—but nothing appears to be happening yet. He enters a room, and I catch a glimpse of bookshelves and a large desk before he shuts the door behind him.

  “His study,” Ryn says.

  “We can watch through the window until the potion’s kicked in. I used Confuse, by the way. Didn’t have any Compel.”

  Ryn sighs. “I suppose we can make that work.”

  We get to the garden using the faerie paths, and it’s easy enough to find Mr. Hart’s study window. It’s a massive floor-to-ceiling piece of glass, like almost every other window we’ve seen here. We keep our backs to the wall and edge toward the window. Ryn peeks in.

  “Why isn’t he confused yet?” he asks. “Did you use a dud potion?”

  “Of course not. I got that potion from Uri only a few weeks ago.”

  I pull Ryn back and take his place at the edge of the window. Mr. Hart is sitting with his back to us at a dark-stained oak desk. He appears to be reading something on his computer screen. After staring at the screen for a while, he yawns, leans back, and rubs his neck. Other than looking a little fatigued, he seems in complete control of his mental faculties.

  But then I notice something. “What’s that behind his ear?” I lean forward to get a closer look as Ryn peers over my shoulder. “It was concealed by his hair, but when he rubbed his neck I saw it. See there?” I point at the small round metal shape stuck to Mr. Hart’s skin.

  “It looks a little like our sound drops.”

  “Yes, but don’t you recognize the metal? It looks just like the stuff Zell put around his dungeon to prevent outside magic getting in. The same metal he put around my wrist to block my magic.”

  “But this guy’s human.” Ryn turns to me with a frown. “He has no magic to be blocked.”

  “I don’t think it’s to block his magic,” I say, straightening and looking at Ryn. “It’s to block ours.”

  Six

  “Golf,” I say to Ryn, “is possibly the most boring human sport in existence.” I walk across the deck and flop onto a lounger beside him. “People spend ages trying to get their feet the right distance apart, their knees bent at the correct angle, and the proper grip with their hands, all so they can whack tiny balls into the distance, which they then have to go in search of when the darn things don’t land where they’re supposed to. And I had to spend the entire morning watching this! Through faerie paths peepholes!”

  Ryn crosses his legs. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell his golfing buddies anything about his encounters with the fae kind?”

  “Nope. I even stayed to observe their lunch, but the conversation remained firmly in boring territory.” I stare at the canvas umbrella above my head. “So, what happened here? Did you find somewhere for us to stay tonight, or did you just laze about all day?”

  Without lifting his head, Ryn points to the other side of the deck. “Pool house.”

  Pool house. Right. “So you didn’t like my idea of finding an unused bedroom in the house and magically locking it while we’re inside?”

  “The Harts’ grandkids are using two of the rooms, and the maids were making up the others. Seems there’ll be people staying over after tomorrow night’s party.”

  “Hmm, a party.” I shift into a more comfortable position on the lounger. “The last one they had was the one where the Unseelie faerie gave something to Mr. Hart.”

  “Yes.”

  “So maybe the faerie will show up again and we’ll figure everything out tomorrow night.”

  “Maybe.”

  We lie in silence for a while, and I try my best not to think of Honey in the midst of an exciting battle between two fae kinds. It doesn’t work. “We could be fighting dangerous Egyptian fae and instead we’re lying in the shade beside a pool, doing nothing.”

  “I know,” Ryn says. “Isn’t it awesome?”

  “Ryn!” I sit up. “I want to be fighting something. I can’t stand this waiting around and observing and essentially achieving nothing.”

  Ryn tilts his head so he can look up at me. “I think I know why you got this assignment. Someone realized you need to learn patience and—”

  “Wait.” I hold up a hand. “What is that on your face?”

  “Um …”

  I lean closer. “Is that a bruise on your eye?”

  “Hmm.” He looks away. “I thought that would be gone by now.”

  I cross my arms and ask, “What exactly did you do today?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “It is my business when you’re my assignment partner.”

  “Well, it had nothing to do with our assignment, so I guess I don’t have to tell you.”

  I glare at him a moment longer, then stand up. “Fine. I’m going to check
out the pool house.”

  “Great.” I hear the creak of the lounger as Ryn gets up. “I should probably do that too.”

  “You mean you haven’t even looked inside? It could be nothing more than a storage room filled with pool toys and chemicals.”

  “Let’s hope not, or tonight could get uncomfortable.”

  I try the handle and find it unlocked. I step inside, Ryn close behind me. Wooden blinds conceal the windows, allowing just enough afternoon light in to cast a warm glow over the room. A kitchenette lines the wall on the right, an open door on the far wall leads to a bathroom, and in the center of the room is a large bed. One large bed.

  Ryn looks sideways at me and raises an eyebrow. “It’s big enough for two.”

  “You’re joking, right? Why don’t you pretend to be a gentleman and give me the bed?”

  He laughs. “Now you’re the one joking.”

  “Of course.” I sigh. “I have nothing but the lowest of expectations when it comes to you, Ryn.”

  “And I shall continue to live down to them.” He jumps onto the bed and puts both hands behind his head. “It’s quite comfortable. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?”

  “I’d rather conjure up a separate bed, thank you very much.”

  “And waste all that magic and energy? I’d be an irresponsible partner if I let you do that.”

  I suppose he’s right. I walk over to the bed, grab one of the many small cushions, and concentrate on sending magic into it to lengthen it. When the cushion is long enough, I toss it onto the middle of the bed. “Now I’ll join you.” I sit down and lie back. “And just so you know, the first part of your body that touches me is the first part you’ll lose.”

  The Harts’ grandchildren emerge from the house in the afternoon to play in the swimming pool, so Ryn and I spend several hours searching the upper level of the house. There isn’t much chance of us finding whatever it was the Unseelie faerie gave Mr. Hart, but that doesn’t stop us trying.

  “I wish we had even a hint of what we’re looking for,” Ryn says, chucking socks back into a drawer and closing it with a bang.

  “Maybe it doesn’t exist,” I say. “Maybe the thing he was given is the metal that’s now stuck behind his ear.”

  “Maybe.” Ryn feels behind a large mirror. “But since we don’t know that for sure, we may as well keep looking.”

  We find nothing, of course. No hidden rooms or locked drawers or objects that feel like they might have some kind of power.

  The Harts and their grandchildren gather in the small dining room for dinner while I search their kitchen for food they won’t miss. Okay, so it might be considered stealing, but we’ve been told not to leave here until our assignment is complete, so how else are we supposed to get food? It’s not like we can conjure it out of nothing. I gather a few items and go in search of Ryn, who isn’t in the pool house where I left him. I find him downstairs, sprawled on a couch in front of an enormous television screen that must have been hidden behind cabinet doors.

  I try to recall some recipe spells while Ryn explains the drama going on in the TV show he’s watching. Part of me starts to enjoy the unfolding story; another part keeps screaming at me that this is not what our final assignment is supposed to be like. Where is the excitement? The fighting? The adrenaline? I spend the rest of the evening discreetly following Mr. Hart around the house—because I have to do something—while Ryn remains downstairs.

  I return to the pool house before he does. Instead of changing into anything that might resemble pajamas, I pull on another pair of form-fitting black pants and a black tank top—just in case we have to get up in the middle of the night and fight something. I comb my fingers through my damp hair and try not to think about how weird it’s going to be sleeping in the same room as Ryn. I wonder what arrangement Honey and Asami have made, because I doubt Honey’s boyfriend would be happy for her to share a room with another guy. Or maybe they don’t have that problem because they’re too busy fighting exotic monsters to get any sleep.

  I close the bathroom door behind me and look over to find Ryn lying on his half of the bed. Shirtless. “No,” I say immediately. “I am not sleeping with a half-naked guy next to me.”

  He looks up. “So don’t sleep then.”

  “Ryn! It’s just weird, okay, so please put on a shirt.”

  “Oh, get over it, V,” he says as he rolls onto his side. “It’s too hot for any more clothes than this, and we’ve got Mount Pillow between us. You can’t even see me when you’re lying down.”

  I close my eyes for a moment. He’s right. I do need to get over it. It doesn’t bother me when he walks around the training center half-naked, so it shouldn’t bother me now. I cross the room to the bed and lie down on top of the covers—like Ryn said, it’s too hot to be covering ourselves up with anything else.

  I stare at the ceiling. “Do you want to sleep the first half of the night or the second?” I ask.

  “You can sleep first. I’ll wake you when I’m tired.” He shifts slightly, and I feel the mattress move. “I really don’t think anything’s going to happen during the night, though.”

  “No. Probably not.” I reach over and turn off the lamp beside my bed. I close my eyes and try to think of nothing. Especially not Nate’s window and the fact that I’m not there to keep an eye on it. I can do this. I just need to relax and I’ll fall asleep in no—

  “So tell me about halfling boy,” Ryn says, as if he can read my thoughts. “Does he have any magic? And how’d you find out he isn’t human?”

  I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling once more. It’s darker now, with only Ryn’s lamp on. What can I say that will make him stop asking questions about Nate?

  “I’m guessing he does have magic,” Ryn continues without waiting for me to answer, “otherwise he’d be of no use to the Unseelie Court.” He nudges the pillow between us. “Aren’t you even a little bit curious as to what he’s doing for them? Handing you over can’t be the only thing he signed up for.”

  “Ryn.” I sit up abruptly and look at him over the pillow. The bruise I noticed around his left eye earlier is long gone, leaving his face flawless. “We may be giving this friends thing a go, but there are certain topics that are still off-limits, and Nate is one of them.”

  He watches me for a moment, then says, “Okay. Sorry.”

  I lie down once more and breathe deeply. It smells like summer. I’m about to close my eyes when the long pillow next to me suddenly slides away. Ryn turns onto his side and raises himself on one elbow. “There’s something you never explained to me.”

  I back away from the open space between us. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m about to ask you a question.”

  “Please put the pillow back.”

  “Come on, V. I’m not going to bite you. Can’t we just have a conversation?”

  It strikes me then that I’m probably being ridiculous. Ryn and I are supposed to be friends now. Of course we can have a conversation. “Um, yeah, sorry.” I turn onto my side so I can look at him. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “You know those discs that Zell has, the ones that fell out of his pocket while I was fighting him?”

  “Yes?”

  “When I told you I’d picked them up, you asked if I’d used them. You seemed to know what they were.”

  I hesitate, then say, “Yes.”

  Ryn raises both eyebrows. “Okay, so what are they?”

  I bite my lip. I suppose there’s no harm in telling him. “Remember the halfling Tharros? The one we all learn about in history lessons?” Ryn nods. “Those discs contain some of his power. They’re cool because when you’re fighting you never get tired as long as you keep drawing power from them. I was only told about one, though, but I’m assuming they’re all the same.”

  “Who told you about this? Have you used them?”

  I hold a hand up. “Okay, remember the off-limits territory? You’re in it.”

  Ryn breath
es out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but you told Councilor Starkweather about them, right?”

  “Actually … I kind of left that part out,” I admit.

  “You don’t think that’s something she’d appreciate knowing for when she tries to take Zell down?”

  “Well, I didn’t intentionally leave it out. I was just focusing more on all the people he’d trapped in cages down there.”

  Ryn goes quiet for a while. “Do you think they’ve been rescued yet?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve thought about asking Councilor Starkweather if the Guild was able to rescue them, but I’m too scared. She made it very clear we weren’t supposed to be involved at all, and she isn’t someone I want to cross.”

  “I guess not.” Ryn looks away, lost in thought for a few moments. Eventually he says, “Do you think he’s still after you?”

  “Zell? I’m sure he is.”

  “I should probably keep my distance from you, then.” He pulls back slightly, one side of his lips turning up in a grin. “You’re like a magnet for danger.”

  “No I’m not. He has no idea where I am.”

  “Vi, he has a spy in the Guild. I don’t think it would be too hard for him to find out where your final assignment is taking place. He could be planning to show up here in the middle of the night.”

  “Good thing I’m not wearing pajamas.”

  “And good thing you have the Guild’s best trainee right beside you.”

  “You wish,” I say, trying to suppress a smile. “Anyway, if it was so easy for Zell’s spy to find out where I am, then why hasn’t Zell shown up on any of my other assignments in the past two weeks?”

  Ryn shrugs. “Perhaps his spy has been busy with more important things, like plotting murder within the Guild.”