His Fairy Share

by Meghan Maslow

  The tome didn’t go into detail, yet it didn’t appear to have a happy ending. Since both Twig and I wanted to seal the mate bond at some point, we needed to know as much as possible before doing so.

  I hadn’t had any luck finding any other tomes or scrolls in the Elder that referred to that instance. The massive witches’ council library—appropriately named Revelation Archives—would likely contain the answers we sought.

  “We’ll go, get this over with, and if you don’t want to ever return, we won’t. Simple.” Twig pressed his lips against mine, just a soft brush before he leaned back.

  I shivered. We’d lived together for a little over six months now, and his kisses still brought me to my knees. He made me crazy in so many ways. His smirk said he knew it, too.

  Damn cocky half-dragon.

  “Did you just say this trip will be simple?” I raised an eyebrow. We’d been down this road too many times. Agent Leotoris called us trouble and he wasn’t wrong. Nothing was ever simple when Twig and I were involved.

  Twig chuckled, his grin positively evil. “Come on, Quinn. What could go wrong?”

  4

  “You okay?” Twig asked, tightening his grip on my hand as we stepped through the portal into a large, round room. Only a slight shimmer against one crystal wall betrayed the portal’s location.

  Several large chill sticks hung from various holders, giving the room a frosty feel. The faint scent of wild honey thistle perfumed the space. A soft purple glow shone from the translucent crystal walls, making the room seem naturally bright even with no windows. I placed a hand to steady myself on the nearest wall, which seemed to pulse with heat under my fingertips.

  Twig stood in a defensive, yet aggressive, stance. He remained a step ahead of me, his body prepared to block anything that came my way. Usually this behavior annoyed me, since I could take care of myself just fine.

  Today I felt fragile. Having a dragon in my corner who would willingly die to protect me, gave me the extra courage I needed to face my past.

  “Pie will be sad he missed this.” We’d waited as long as we could, but he was a no-show. And he’d been so excited to look for pirates. They never lasted long in the Elder. The Holyfail Seas still had them in abundance though, much to the Council of Divine Magic’s chagrin.

  Trying not to worry about our wayward parrot, I examined the sparse chamber we’d landed in. Stepping through a legal portal between realms felt weird. A first for us. Maybe there was a reason we always brought the drama wherever we went?

  “What material is this?” Twig ran a finger of his free hand over the crystalline wall. “My dragon doesn’t recognize it as a precious stone.”

  I shrugged. “It’s called gedodrite. As far as I know, it’s unique not only to this realm, but to this island. I’ve never even seen it on any other buildings, only the citadel.”

  “Gedodrite? Never heard of it.” He took a sniff. “It’s . . . odd.”

  The purple crystal made up the entire citadel. Wait until he saw the statues.

  Before I could tell him more, a squeal echoed in the cavernous space. Twig tensed as a dark-haired witch hurtled in our direction. He released my hand, his fingers coming up tipped with wicked looking claws.

  “No, Twig! She’s a friend!” I side-stepped him as she tackled me. Staggering back, I held tight to Coraline Ebonywood, one of the few people who still mattered to me in this realm.

  “You’re here! May the Goddesses be praised for your return.” Cora stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on each of my cheeks. “You have no idea what I had to do to be included in this reunion.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Cora. And I’m glad.” Still the same wild, curly hair that a braid could never contain, and the same mischievous smile that got us into all kinds of trouble. Strange to see her in anything other than a shapeless school uniform, though her sleeveless lilac sheath dress complemented her complexion and emphasized her petite figure. A sheer gold half-cloak with matching slippers and chain link belt added an extra bit of flare. She clung, her small frame nestled against me. Just like old times.

  Throat clearing that sounded suspiciously like a growl separated us. My familiar didn’t like anyone touching me. It was a mate thing.

  “Twig, I want you to meet my very good friend, Coraline Ebonywood. We met first year in school, in Intro to Magical Artifacts class. And she wouldn’t leave me alone. So annoying.” I winked.

  Cora shoved me. “You wish. You followed me around like a puppy. A scrawny, knobby-kneed one, at that. I felt so sorry for you I took pity and befriended you.”

  “I don’t remember things quite that way—”

  “Which is why I earned an ‘A’ in Spell Recall, while you did not.”

  “That had more to do with Professora Shackleton catching me borrowing the Spell Caster’s Cup from the school trophy case. As I recall, some wonderful friend pushed you behind a statue and took all the blame.”

  “Again, faulty memory.” She patted my cheek, then ran her hand over my heavily embroidered sleeve. “You clean up well, though. Nice outfit. Must have cost you some serious dyparis. Who would have thought such a scrubby little wizardling would have turned out okay?”

  “I wasn’t that bad.” I choked on my laughter. “Twig, don’t listen to her. I was always glorious.”

  “Of course you were, wizard,” Twig responded. Fondness radiated through our link. And humor.

  Cora’s eyes widened. She beamed at Twig, craning her neck. “Wow, you’re a big fellow, aren’t you? My familiar’s small, but Mink-the-Merciless is mighty.” A tiny white ferret poked out from the pouch at Cora’s waist. Seeing us, or more likely, Twig, the little critter chirped and dove back into safety. “Well, perhaps not as mighty as your familiar, Quinn.”

  “Mink-the-Merciless?” I bumped her shoulder. I’d wondered what kind of familiar she’d bonded with. They’d bundled me off to the Elder the moment my bonding didn’t take. We never even had a chance to say goodbye.

  She shoved me again. “Shut up. It’s her name. Besides your familiar is enormous. Gorgeous, too. I didn’t realize dragons in their humanlike form were so handsome. Is he very obedient?”

  No surprise when Twig snapped before I could set Cora straight, “Obedient? A dragon? No wonder most of you humans are only fit to be snacks.”

  Cora paled and gripped my arm in a white-knuckled grip. I glared at him.

  “Twig . . .”

  “Fine. You’re lucky I’m so easygoing, wizard.” He sighed, held out a hand to Cora. “Nice to meet you, Coraline Ebonywood. Twig Starfig, Quinn’s not-so-obedient familiar.”

  Cora glanced at me, then gingerly set her hand in his much larger one. Her eyes had gone as big as dragon eggs in her heart-shaped face. “I-I apologize. M-most familiars are only . . . um, animals.”

  “Well, as you can see, I’m not. I talk and everything.” He held out his arms so she could behold his magnificence. His muscles rippled under his finery. He’d donned a particularly form-fitting silver tunic that laced up his massive chest, and a dark navy pair of trousers that hugged his thighs like a second skin. Truly breathtaking.

  He was also an ass.

  Cora ran a cautious yet appreciative gaze over him. Then she paled again.

  “What’s wrong?” I gripped her elbow to get her attention.

  “I don’t think the Council realizes that your familiar, I mean, Twig”—she gave him a tentative smile—“is, uh, ah, special.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Twig’s eyes narrowed, though his voice stayed neutral. “They’re aware I’m a dragon, right?”

  Cora turned to me. “Please don’t shoot the messenger.”

  “Okaaay . . .” I looked between her and Twig.

  She reached into another pouch attached to her belt, then pulled out a thick, metal linked collar . . . and was that a leash? I put a restraining hand on Twig’s arm.

  This day wasn’t starting out the way I’d expected. Though I suppose with our luck,
any expectation was foolish. A miracle the building still stood at all, if the rage filtering across our link indicated anything. And not all the anger came from Twig.

  “Explain, Cora. Please.”

  “I-I’m to greet you and then bring you to meet the larger Council. I’m working for High Rei Helena Hallewell now. Did you know that?”

  “Focus, Cora. Why the collar and leash?”

  “W-Well, Twig’s a dragon, and the Council wanted to make sure that he couldn’t shift since he’s not supposed to be in this realm. You know, because of the Cairnsdaught Accord and all.”

  “Yes, we’re well aware of the accord,” Twig bit out. I kept a restraining hand on his arm. His fury snapped through our link like lightning. It almost physically hurt.

  “Right. So, the collar keeps him . . .”—her head swiveled in Twig’s direction— “I mean, y-you, from shifting.”

  Twig growled.

  “No.” I shook my head emphatically. “No collar. And definitely no leash. He’s not a pet. He’s my familiar, but he’s an equal, too.”

  “I think he has to wear it.” Cora’s voice came out low and imploring.

  “Says who? The all-powerful Council of Divine Magic?” I scoffed. “I don’t think so. They couldn’t even be bothered to greet us properly.”

  “Quinn!” Cora sounded scandalized. “You have to do what they say.”

  I gripped her hand and tugged her a few feet away. My dragon didn’t need to listen to this crap. He raised an eyebrow, yet stayed where he stood.

  “What? You think I care what they want?” I lowered my voice, though I kept it fierce. “They sold me, Cora. They lost the ability to have any say in my life after that. I’m a resident of the Elder, not here. And if they think they’ll put a collar on my familiar, my mate, they need to lay off the jiggyweed.”

  Cora swallowed hard, looking a little green. “Did you say your mate? You mated your familiar?”

  Could her tone be any more shocked? Or judgmental?

  I’d forgotten how small-minded my former life had been. Humans weren’t used to a diversity of lifeforms, so it shouldn’t surprise me. Coming from my childhood best friend, it felt like a punch to the gut.

  “Cora, please. You’ve met Twig. He’s hardly the same as your Mink. He’s as sentient as you or I. ”

  “I-I . . .” She scanned my face like she searched for something. No clue what she looked for, but whatever she sought, she seemed to find it. A single tear spilled over and tracked down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I’m just so . . . I bawled for months after they sold you. I even requested a pass to cross to the Elder to visit. They denied my request, told me your new owner wouldn’t like it. I didn’t know what to do. And then you show up in finery with a dragon familiar and magic that crackles across my skin in an unfamiliar way. It’s a lot to take in.”

  I squeezed her hand before releasing it and wiping away the tear from her cheek with my thumb. “You’re forgiven, Cora. I hadn’t considered it from your perspective.”

  “If you think my perspective is, um, unusual, wait until the Council gets a look at your familiar. They won’t understand. They’ll demand he wear the collar.”

  “I’d like to see them try. Are they looking for an inter-realm incident?” My lip curled, and I wanted to scream in fury at the Council’s nerve.

  “But—”

  “You know what, Twig?” I called. “We’re out of here. Cora, you can tell them to get eaten by a hellhound.”

  “Wait! Y-your parents, your siblings are eager to see you! And the Council. They’ve prepared a r-reception.”

  “Is that supposed to make up for three years of misery? Three years of slavery? Three years having no say in anything in my life? ‘Have some fancy hors d’oeuvres, Quinn. Oh, sorry for selling you. Our bad.’ Nuh uh. We’re out.” I beelined for the portal, so done. Twig didn’t move to follow me. “Come on, Twig, let’s go.”

  “We should stay.”

  Well, knock me over with a phoenix feather. I spun back around. “You’ll wear the collar?”

  He laughed. I mean, belly laughed. “Hellafuck no. Who’ll make me?”

  He made an excellent point. Still, I didn’t trust them. And that they’d insult Twig so grievously without even meeting him first? How could they think I would take this?

  He closed the distance between us and pulled me into his arms. I ignored Cora’s gasp. She’d get used to us. She’d have to if we were to stay friends. Twig was my life. Period.

  “We should make our appearance.” Twig ran a comforting hand over my back. That was generally my move, but I could admit that it calmed me. “You don’t belong to them anymore. Like I said, you have your own power. They wouldn’t keep asking you to come if they didn’t want something from you. Let’s see what it is, huh?”

  I grumbled and might have cursed under my breath. He wasn’t usually the rational one between us. I felt my rage coursing just under my skin. His had settled somewhat, though, I sensed it lingering close to the surface.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “Since when do we follow that path?” He squeezed me. “If we don’t go, their threats to your family”—he nodded toward Cora—“and your friends next, will keep getting worse. They misunderstand their position in this exchange. We should enlighten them.”

  “You’re playing on my desire for revenge. That’s not a nice thing to do.” I ran my hand over his chest, my anger receding with his reassuring touch.

  “I’ve told you, wizard, dragons aren’t nice.” He nudged me. “We throw our weight around really, really well, though.”

  I chuckled. “You’re incorrigible.”

  He didn’t deny it. “Let’s do this. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  I groaned. “Why do you say things like this? It’s like you’re tempting fate.”

  “Fuck fate. We make our own destiny. Remember that.”

  5

  “I-I don’t know if I should do this.” Cora rung her hands together as we walked, our boot heels clacking on the polished stone as we passed through a high, triangular archway. “I mean, the High Rei will probably be really mad. And if not her, then definitely Rei Le Torneau and possibly even Rei Vosen.”

  “I don’t mean to get you in trouble, Cora. Don’t you think they’d be angered more by my leaving than not putting a collar on my familiar?” We rounded a corner and entered another triangular archway into a long, narrow walkway.

  She gulped. “I think I’m in trouble either way.”

  “Sorry.” I didn’t want to put Cora between a gargoyle and a golem, but the Council had zero jurisdiction over me, especially where Twig was concerned.

  She reached over and squeezed my elbow. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

  “This isn’t home.”

  She huffed. “You know what I mean, Quinn. It’s just so good to see you.”

  I consciously relaxed my jaw. “It’s good to see you, too. I missed you and hoped for the best for you. You were the one true friend I ever had here.”

  “You have friends in the Elder, right?”

  “And family.” I nodded toward Twig. He flashed a million-dypari smile. If not still so angry about this debacle, I’d be hauling him away for some alone time.

  “Is it true, you also live with a . . .” She looked around as though someone else could hear. “A-A demon?”

  Twig snorted. “Yeah, Bill. He’s a red fury.”

  She squeaked. “So, it’s true? Oh, my Goddesses. We all thought those were just stories to embellish your image.”

  “You’d like him,” I added. “It’s hard to believe, but he’s one of the best creatures I know.” At least when he wasn’t sleeping his way through Lighthelm. Not that I had a problem with that per se, except he used it as a salve. Not going to explain a brokenhearted demon to Cora. I’d blown her mind enough today.

  We rounded another corner and then another. We’d cleared the tower and headed toward the center of Islingwall Is
le Citadel, where the witches’ council met.

  I’d visited the citadel occasionally while in school. Field trips, mostly. Befsarry Academy of Magic was located one island over, so school trips with an overnight in the Lower Isle were common.

  “What in hellafuck is that?” Twig slowed to get a better look in an alcove that held a grotesque statue made of the same gedodrite material as the rest of the citadel. Not even close to the ugliest of the bunch.

  “The Goddess of the Harvest.” I stared at the sharp details and distorted grin.

  “You’ll see statues like this all over the building.” Cora lowered her voice. “All of them just as hideous. But I didn’t say that.”

  Twig cocked his head as though a different angle would make the sight more appealing. He smirked. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

  Cora grinned. “Make sure Quinn shows you the exterior ones. Those are even worse.”

  “Gargoyles?”

  “Not stone. And not alive. Gedodrite. Extra creepy,” I added. “Though everyone acts like they’re not.”

  As we neared our destination, my shoulders tensed. I didn’t want to be here. Twig’s steps remained steady and he shot me a cocky grin. Cora looked anxious as we turned away from the path that led to the Council chambers, instead opting for another hallway.

  At the corridor’s end, we came upon large double doors with heavy scrollwork, both the decorative and warded variety. Two guards dressed all in purple stood beside the enormous doors, appearing frozen in place. They were half a foot shorter than Twig and while they were at least as broad, they didn’t have the well-defined muscle my familiar sported. He’d make short work of them if it became necessary to fight our way out. Not that I thought it likely, but with us, one never knew. Better to expect the unexpected.

  “This should be fun,” I said, my voice a little shaky, giving lie to my words. Slipping a hand up the sleeve of my tunic, I gripped my bracer. It held the essence of Scrodbun’s war hammer. The hammer’s magic thrummed against my skin. While he possessed the hammer, Scrodbun, a conquering troll from the Demi Undine period, had never lost a battle. The magical artifact revealed opponents’ weaknesses. I rarely used it, though it had already come in handy. Its tendrils of magic twined around my fingers in a caress before settling back into stillness.