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False Queen

Page 12

by Nikki Jefford


  “Okay, I will give you the address after dinner. I trust you won’t share it with anyone.”

  Ryo’s knees knocked the bottom of the table when he jolted up, setting his dishware clattering. “No one. I swear it. I will guard the location with my life.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from smiling. I pursed my lips.

  “You can count on me, Aerith.”

  “I certainly hope so.”

  Sarfina rolled her eyes. “Well, don’t expect me to go dreamscaping into elven lands. I have more important things to do.”

  Yes indeed, Sarfina. You have a ball to plan and players to arrange right where I want them.

  Jhaeros nudged my leg again. I slipped one hand beneath the table and squeezed his thigh.

  There was something to be said for teaming up.

  Folas cleared his throat. “Neither of them can dreamscape.”

  “But they’re high Fae, royalty.” I glanced around the table.

  Only high Fae and their chosen guardians could dreamscape and portal. A faerie prince and princess certainly fell under those guidelines.

  Sarfina and Ryo folded their arms over their chests and glared at Folas. The guard looked at me.

  “Liri hired a wizard to place runes around the castle preventing Sarfina and Ryo from using their abilities.”

  “My brother wants to keep us trapped inside like caged birds,” Sarfina huffed.

  “Call the wizard back,” I instructed Folas. “Tell him to remove Ryo’s runes.”

  “What about me?” Sarfina demanded.

  I straightened my back and lifted my chin. “You have a party to plan.”

  Chapter Ten

  Melarue

  P

  arty hats. Check.

  Silly string. Check.

  Strawberry cake covered in an inch of pink frosting and topped with twenty-two candles. Yum. Yum. Yum.

  “Aerith is going to be so surprised!” I bounced along the road to Jhaeros’s manor.

  Wisely, Devdan held on to the cake nestled inside its white box. He hunched over as another frigid gust of wind blew at us. We certainly weren’t on a tropical island any longer. I’d nearly forgotten how cold winters in Pinemist got. Good thing I still had my favorite long blue jacket. We’d left the rest of our clothing stuffed inside a duffel bag in a locker at Grand Central Station in New York. We’d return for our things soon enough.

  Aerith would never expect us to leave Earth early. Well, we were headed right back, but first we had to celebrate my sister’s birthday. This was going to be the best surprise party ever!

  At the end of Jhaeros’s long driveway, Dev and I put on our cone-shaped party hats. I shook the two cans of silly string and held one in each hand while Dev kept hold of the cake box.

  When we reached the front door, Dev set the box down carefully. I handed him a can of silly string and knocked on the door.

  I began bouncing in place again. I couldn’t wait to see the look on Aerith’s face. Jhaeros could definitely use a good spraying of silly string, too. I’d wanted to bring back a whole shopping bag of streamers and balloons, but we couldn’t exactly decorate the place unnoticed.

  The seconds inched along like earthworms.

  I knocked again. “Ugh, what’s taking so long?” Patience had never been my thing.

  “Maybe they’re not home.”

  My smile vanished like an extinguished candle flame. “Where else would they be?”

  “Maybe they’re still in Hawaii.” Devdan rubbed the back of his neck and stared at me as though I knew the answer and wasn’t sharing.

  Disappointment tugged my bottom lip into a pout. Before I had a chance to deflate entirely, we heard the click of metal and saw the brass doorknob begin to turn.

  “This is it,” I squealed. “Get ready.”

  Devdan and I aimed our aerosol cans.

  The door opened. We pressed down the triggers. Neon pink sprayed out in continuous streams that landed on an ancient elf with gray hair.

  Devdan and I stopped spraying and stared.

  Thin cords of pink string covered the old male’s black suit jacket and dangled from his head and one of his hairy pointed ears.

  I lowered my can sheepishly. “Uh, Mr. Keasandoral?” I guessed. How old had Jhaeros’s father been when he had him? No wonder Jhaeros had the air of an eighty-year-old.

  The pink string didn’t seem to bother Mr. Keasandoral one bit. He stood in the open doorway with stooped shoulders and a bland look. I doubted Jhaeros would have been this cool about it. Then again, maybe his pop was senile.

  The old elf gave a slight smile. “I am Mr. Keasandoral’s butler, Fhaornik. Unfortunately, his father passed away some time ago. May I inquire into whom is calling?” The butler’s eyes didn’t meet mine. In fact, they looked quite cloudy.

  “I am Melarue Heiris, Aerith’s sister.”

  “Oh yes. My lady has told me all about you. Please come in,” Fhaornik said eagerly.

  Devdan handed me his aerosol can then picked up the cake. We followed Fhaornik into a dank foyer that led into a sitting room. Goose bumps rose over my arms. I could feel the cold seeping through the stone walls.

  Devdan placed the cake box on a coffee table.

  “Please excuse the chill,” Fhaornik said, shuffling toward the hearth with its unlit logs. “We were not expecting company. Allow me to light the fire, and then I will go ask Mrs. Calarel to prepare tea. Is someone with you?”

  Devdan pointed at his own eyes then lifted his palms up in question. I pursed my lips and shook my head. It seemed the old elf couldn’t see, but I wasn’t entirely certain.

  “Er, uh, yeah,” I answered. “My friend Devdan is with me.”

  “Very good,” Fhaornik said. “Now, where did I put the flint and striker?”

  “Can I help?” Devdan asked, springing into action. He joined the butler by the hearth.

  “Oh my, yes indeed, thank you, young fellow,” Fhaornik tutted. “While you do that I will see about the tea.”

  Before the butler could scuttle out, I cleared my throat. “Mr. Fhaornik?”

  He stopped near the doorway. “Just Fhaornik, my lady.”

  “Right. Fhaornik, is my sister home?”

  Fhaornik frowned. “I’m afraid not, my lady.”

  “Will she be home soon?” I tried not to sound too disappointed. Of all the rotten timing.

  “I do hope so,” Fhaornik said. “She was called away on most urgent business.”

  Devdan struck the flint. It sparked but didn’t catch.

  “What kind of business?” I pressed, cold dread already icing up my bones.

  “An emergency with her in-laws in Faerie. It seems that her brother-in-law’s new bride was kidnapped. Only, the poor lady doesn’t know it. Her memories were altered right before she was sent to the mortal realm. The Fae king, Liri, and one of his sisters have gone to Earth to try and retrieve his queen. While they do that, Aerith is ruling over Dahlquist, and my master has accompanied her.”

  What the freak berries? My mind was buzzing with enough questions to short-circuit my brain for hours.

  “Oh my sky! I should have never let Aerith out of my sight. Liri’s gone and stolen her again.”

  Damn the Fae bastard to the seven hells. His family had already taken Aerith from me twice. Now they’d nabbed her a third time. I needed my sword. Where was it? Had Aerith sold our cottage? Were my things now squirreled away in Jhaeros’s attic?

  “Not to worry, my lady. Your sister went willingly.” Fhaornik’s statement brought no reassurance whatsoever. “She also wanted me to convey that she has arranged a channel for communication should you show up before her return.”

  Finally we were getting somewhere.

  “A portal?” I asked eagerly. It wasn’t like she’d be sending picturesque postcards from Dahlquist.

  Fhaornik’s head drooped as though the pink strings were pulling it down. I really should pull the stuff off him, but then I’d have to explain why
I was touching him and first I needed him to explain how to get in touch with Aerith.

  “Not a portal. A dreamscape. My lady said she would arrange for someone from Faerie to pop in every Saturday night.”

  “What’s today?”

  “Monday.”

  “That’s not for another week,” I cried.

  “Five days, my lady.”

  “Who pops in? And exactly where and what time do they arrive?” Devdan asked, placing his hands on his hips.

  “I am afraid I do not know all the specifics, sir. What I can tell you is that a faerie is supposed to visit the guest room every Saturday after dusk.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that.” Devdan’s forehead wrinkled.

  “And I don’t like waiting,” I said. “What am I supposed to do for five whole days?”

  “If my lady’s sister chooses, you may visit your father whom is also in town.” Fhaornik frowned. I couldn’t tell if it was at the mention of my father or the fact that he seemed to have discovered the puffy pink string dangling from his ear. He pulled at his lobe, breaking a piece off. It dropped to the floor.

  “My father’s in Pinemist?”

  Fhaornik touched his opposite earlobe and, upon feeling nothing there, lowered his arms. “He has taken shelter with Lady Dashwood across the street.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Never heard of her.”

  “It is my duty to inform you that if you wish to see your father, you must be the one to call on him as he is forbidden from stepping foot on the premises.”

  A startled laugh burst from my lips.

  Devdan looked at me and raised his brows.

  First of all, I had no desire to listen to Father’s latest rantings, nor introduce him to Dev. If he thought Jhaeros wasn’t rich enough for one of his daughters, then he really wouldn’t take a shine to Dev, and I didn’t need that kind of negativity in my life.

  Secondly, Jhaeros had banned Father from his home. Awesome!

  “May I see to the tea?” Fhaornik asked.

  I removed my coat and party hat, sighed, and sank into a cluster of beaded pillows on the sofa. “Might as well. We have cake to go with it. Not like it will be any good on Saturday.”

  Fhaornik nodded and left the room. After removing his hat, Devdan leaned into the hearth, struck the flint, and lit the clump of dry grass left beneath the logs. It flamed, but the logs were slow to catch. Slow like the seconds. Slow like the hours. Slow like the days leading up to Saturday.

  Huffing, I got to my feet and went to the hearth, spreading my fingers over the logs, sending fire bursting to life. It roared up inside its stone enclosure.

  If only I could open a portal as easily as conjuring fire.

  “Feel better?” Devdan asked.

  “Not even close.”

  “He said Aerith left by choice, and Jhaeros went with her. They’ll be fine.”

  Anger flared up in me as quickly as the flames I’d called to life in the hearth. “You don’t know that!” I snapped.

  A deep frown formed over Devdan’s lips. He moved away from me, his expression turning cross.

  He didn’t say anything more, so neither did I, and although the fire crackled and burned, the room had gone cold.

  When Fhaornik returned, every last trace of the silly string had been removed. I looked him over closely for signs that he could see even a little, but I was met with cloudy eyes that never quite reached mine.

  A minute later, a slender middle-aged female with brown hair tucked beneath a headscarf entered with a tea tray. Her eyes had no trouble finding mine. She glared reproachfully.

  “We thought we were surprising my sister,” I said defensively.

  Did the matron think I was some kind of hooligan who knocked on doors and pulled pranks on blind old elves? Sheesh!

  “It’s her birthday today,” I added.

  “It’s my lady’s birthday?” Fhaornik pressed his hand over his heart. “I do hope she still celebrates in Faerie.”

  “Fat chance,” I said under my breath.

  Without a word, the matronly female set the tea tray on the coffee table beside the cake box and departed. I had to hand it to Jhaer. He had one quirky butler and a cook with sass. Yeah, they were cool, unlike the servants under Father’s employment back in Sweetbell. Guess he had to pour his own wine now. Fhaornik hadn’t mentioned Shalendra. She was probably still in Sweetbell married to some shmuck. If I really wanted to know, I could cross the street and ask Father.

  “You are welcome to stay in the guest room as long as you like,” Fhaornik announced.

  “The same guest room where the dreamscape is to take place on Saturday?” I needed verification.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “I am most definitely sticking around for that.”

  “Very good. I will light a fire in the guest chamber.” Fhaornik moved toward the parlor door.

  “No need. I can start it.”

  He gave a slight bow in the doorframe. “I will leave the two of you to your tea. Mrs. Calarel will have dinner ready at eight.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Devdan poured tea into two mugs, handed me one, then took his and sipped in front of the fire, his back turned to me.

  I set my cup down on the tray.

  “Why are you mad at me?”

  Rather than answer, he took a sip of tea, keeping his attention on the flames.

  I stomped my foot on the ground. “Really? You’re going to ignore me?”

  “I’m not ignoring you. Maybe I don’t feel like talking to you right now.”

  What in the seven hells was happening? Devdan and I never fought. Okay, so maybe we disagreed and bickered a little from time to time, but nothing serious and never the silent treatment. I guess it wasn’t a full lockdown. He had finally answered me, but I wasn’t loving his grumpy side.

  “Well, excuse me for caring about my sister,” I snipped.

  Devdan spun around, spilling tea onto the rug as he did. “That’s not the issue. Of course you care about your sister.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I try to make you feel better, and you yell at me.”

  “I didn’t yell at you!” I yelled.

  Devdan raised his brows.

  I cleared my throat and gained control of my voice. “If the kingdom of Dahlquist is under threat, that means Aerith, as regent, is also in danger. I am not leaving her to fend for herself.”

  Devdan rolled his eyes. “She is hardly fending for herself if Jhaeros is with her. Plus, I’m sure she has a whole army to command.”

  “I don’t care if she has two armies at her beck and call. I’m going.”

  Devdan set his teacup down on the tray and folded his arms over his chest. “And what about me?”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  By the glare he leveled at me, I could tell I’d said the wrong thing.

  “Exactly. You don’t care so long as Mel gets what Mel wants, goes where she wants, and does what she wants. If I don’t follow your every step, you’ll leave me behind without a second glance.”

  “That’s not true,” I cried.

  Or was it? I mean, I guess I was always the one making the decisions, but I thought Devdan liked being along for the ride. I was the one funding our adventures, so didn’t that give me the right to call the shots?

  And what the pit was up with the “Mel gets what Mel wants” crap? He was being such a baby. He couldn’t fool me. I’d seen him having fun right up until the good times hit a stumbling block and he wasn’t the center of my attention. How needy was he? I’d known this day was coming. I just didn’t realize it would happen so soon.

  I placed my hands on my hips, meeting Devdan’s glare. “Mel doesn’t want to go to Faerie, actually, but my sister’s safety comes before my own amusements, and if you can’t understand that, then that’s just too bad.”

  Devdan’s arms fell to his sides as though they’d been pushed down. A look of hurt flashed through his eyes. �
�Yeah, I guess so,” he said softly.

  My heart twisted into a knot. My breath faltered.

  Head hanging, Devdan shuffled out of the sitting room. Several seconds later, I heard the front door open and shut.

  I stood in stunned silence.

  I hugged my arms around my waist, unable to move. He claimed that I’d leave him behind without a second glance, but he was the one who had left me. Walked out. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  Was this it? Were we over?

  It seemed like just yesterday he had told me he’d follow me anywhere—an empty promise it turned out.

  Tears misted over my eyes. I blinked rapidly. When they re-emerged, I sent my fire magic into my cheeks to vaporize the stupid waterworks before they got out of hand.

  I glared at the cake box. “Happy birthday, bleh!”

  His loss!

  My next boyfriend would be made of tougher stuff. Maybe I’d finally meet a shifter. Devdan would fade into the past. He’d become one of those rings around a tree that marked the years. My first crush. First kiss. First time. First—

  Heartbreak.

  Fresh tears spilled onto my cheeks. I swiped at them.

  There was a shuffling sound right before Fhaornik entered. He moved his head from side to side, eyebrows pinched together as he called out, “Hello? Is anyone in here?”

  “Yes.”

  Fhaornik’s nose pointed in my direction. “I heard the front door open and close and thought maybe you’d left.”

  “My . . . companion left.”

  “Will he be returning?”

  My heart squeezed. “I don’t know.”

  Fhaornik pulled on his earlobe. “There are fresh linens and towels in the guest chamber. I can show you to the room anytime.”

  “That would be great, but first, are there any weapons lying around? A sword, preferably.”

  “Oh yes. Would you like me to show you the weapons room?”

  I gave a start. “Jhaeros has a weapons room?”

  “Follow me.”

  I felt slightly better after spending several hours in Jhaeros’s secret weapons room at the back of the manor. My eyes had widened at the sight of the large stone room with its wall of swords and crossbows. There were even dummies and targets stationed around the room to practice on.

 

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