by Robyn Bachar
“You could ask Faust for help,” Portia said. Her head was still bent over the page as she translated it, and we all looked at her in surprise.
“Faust? Why would he help us?” I asked.
“He doesn’t approve of what his nephew did.”
“His nephew…Faust is Zach’s uncle?” I asked, incredulous.
“Yes. You didn’t know that?” Portia asked. She looked up from her work and blinked at me like a kitten sitting amidst a shredded roll of toilet paper, trying to convince you that it had nothing to do with the destruction.
“No, I didn’t know that,” I replied. But it explained so much. If Zach was half-blooded, it was probably one of the reasons why he’d turned out so ungodly powerful as a master necromancer, despite being just a baby. It also explained why Faust worked with him. Yeah, a shadowspawn faerie would gravitate toward evil magicians, but being family would explain his loyalty. It was also kind of funny—Faust looked younger than Zach by about ten years. “And just how do you know that? Portia Silverleaf, have you been talking to that shadowspawn?” I asked, scandalized by the idea.
“Maybe…a little…” she admitted.
“Lord and Lady. Are you crazy? You can get in so much trouble,” I exclaimed.
“Only if I get caught. Here, finished.” She handed the page to Lex, and he frowned as he read it over.
“Portia…” I started, but honestly had no idea what to say. I’d put her in time-out if I could. This was a serious matter. She could be cast out herself if any of the other faeries found out about it. I fell into a gray area about being able to talk to Faust, thanks to my connection to Zach, but Portia was definitely not allowed. “Portia, you have to promise me that you won’t talk to him anymore. I can’t lose you too.”
She sighed. “I’ll try. That’s the best I can do. But you should ask him.”
I looked to Lex, who was reading the translation. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a bad idea. I think he’ll just go right back to Harrison and tell him what we’re planning, and that’ll only make things more difficult,” Lex said. I agreed.
“I don’t think he will,” Portia said. “I think he’ll help you. He’ll ask for something in return, but I think you can trust him with this.”
“How can we trust a shadowspawn?” I asked.
“I’m sure there are magicians who say the same thing about you being an outcast witch. You were treated unfairly. How do you know Faust wasn’t as well?” she pointed out.
“I guess I never thought of it that way,” I admitted, blushing. I fidgeted, nervous, and then I got to my feet and headed to the kitchen. I needed a cigarette with a hunger that gnawed at me, and I decided to fight it with food. “Is anyone else hungry?” I asked.
“Yeah. I could eat,” Marie said.
“Pancakes?”
“Sure.”
I started grabbing the ingredients for the batter and lining them up on the counter. “Are there any other wonky ingredients on that list?” I asked Lex, glancing back at him.
“There are a few weird things, but nothing impossible to find. Mac will know where to get them.”
“Okay. I think we should try Portia’s idea,” I said.
Lex sighed. “All right. We’ll try it.”
I nodded, and continued with the batter. Pancakes first, shadowspawn faeries second. I started my meal plan with pancakes, but added scrambled eggs and bacon to the menu as hunger and the need for an activity drove me on. I made enough food for a small army, but I knew that Marie and Lex would polish it off. Guardians have big appetites, and they never seem to gain any weight. Hmm. Would I need to double my pancake intake now that I was carrying an itty-bitty future guardian? Probably. Hey, being pregnant meant that Lex would have to scale back my exercise routine. Bonus. No more crunches for me.
When we finished our meal, I put Marie in charge of the dishes and stood in the center of the living room, my hands on my hips, and called out to Faust. I’d never summoned him on purpose before, but he had popped in a few times on his own to let me know something Harrison-related. At first there was no response, so I tried again, and this time Faust popped into the room.
“Yes, my lady?”
As always he wore his smoked glasses, and now I wondered if he was hiding freaky eyes behind them like Patience did. Before, I’d always assumed they were a fashion statement. He looked very different from the other faeries I’d known. Faust was skinny and tall for a faerie, and he dressed in conservative suits in shades of gray instead of Renaissance garb or 80s punk fashion. His black hair was short and spiky and didn’t really match the business attire, but he had a commanding aura about him, and his magic did smell like faerie magic, just weaker and more subdued. I’m sure he was every bit as powerful as a normal faerie, but his faerieness was faded somehow.
“I need your help,” I said. His thin, dark brows rose as he folded his hands in front of him.
“Of course. Anything to help my Titania.”
“We have a ritual to undo the spirit link. But we need Zach’s blood to undo it.”
“Blood freely given,” Lex added. “As much as I’d like to hurt him for it.”
“And you want me to get it for you?” he asked, his tone skeptical.
“Yes. Please? Portia suggested asking you for help.” I turned and looked at her. She was perched on the back of the couch, her wings shedding frost and dust onto the floor behind her, but she was uncharacteristically silent.
“You could ask Zachary for it,” Faust suggested.
“He hasn’t seemed interested in changing the status quo,” I said. “And he’s…how should I put this? Spoiled. Entitled. Stubborn. Manipulative. Controlling…” I ticked off the reasons one by one on my fingers until Faust held up a hand.
“Enough, I see your point.”
“So you’ll help us?” I asked.
“In exchange for a favor, yes.”
I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I suppose it was too much to hope that Simon’s nice gift could have inspired more charity in my supernatural dealings. Favors to Patience, favors to Faust. What next? A pound of flesh?
“What kind of favor?” I asked, weary.
“I would like to speak with Cecelia of the Silver Crescent.”
Everyone in the room blinked at him in shared shock. “How? I’m not a miracle worker. I don’t think that’s even possible. You’re outcast.”
“As are you, yet you continue to function within magician society,” Faust countered.
“That’s debatable. Half of said society doesn’t want anything to do with me. And I don’t function at all within witch society, because those frigid bitches can’t stand to be in the same room with me, much less try to have a civilized conversation with me.”
“But you are the Titania. I have faith that you would be able to arrange a meeting, even with my…difficulties.”
“Why do you want to talk to her?” I asked.
“My business is not your concern,” he said haughtily, and it reminded me of Zach. Guess it runs in the family.
“Yeah it is. I can’t let you talk to her if you’re going to insult her or attack her,” I argued.
“I wouldn’t attack Cecelia. I have no quarrel with her, and attacking a member of the council would not further my agenda.”
“What agenda?” Lex asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“The restoration of the faerie race through the dissolution of Faerie itself,” he replied.
I turned and stared hard at Portia, who continued to remain silent. “Is that why you’ve been talking to him? He’s been trying to sell you on his plan?” Her chin rose a bit, but she didn’t answer. Great, another thing I didn’t need on my conscience. Portia wouldn’t have heard his wacky idea if I hadn’t gotten snatched up by Harrison. “You know this isn’t the best time for a faerie mass migration. We have a serious hunter problem, and they’ll come after you too.”
“I am aware of the hunter problem. I believe we
could aid you in fighting the hunters,” Faust said.
“I don’t doubt that, but you’d be putting yourself in serious danger. Humanity wiped out the elves with ancient weaponry. Slings and arrows, and now they’ve got rocket launchers and Teflon bullets,” I argued. “They have mass genocide down to a science. Don’t give them a new target.”
“We can handle ourselves.” Faust seemed to believe it. I didn’t share his confidence.
“I’ll see what I can do. She might not go for it,” I warned.
Faust nodded. “I understand. If you make a concerted effort, I will consider your half of the agreement complete.”
“Right. Are you coming with me?” I asked Portia, and she nodded.
“There’s no need to act immediately on my behalf,” Faust said. He almost sounded surprised.
“Yeah, there really is. We need to get this ritual done as soon as possible,” I replied.
“Ah. You wish to avoid a repeat of the fight against Rousseau.”
“You have no idea,” I muttered. “Wait here, we’ll be right back.”
“I’m coming with you,” Lex said, standing.
“You don’t need to, this should be quick,” I said as I watched him fetch his coat.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere alone.” There was a no-nonsense scowl on his face, and I decided not to argue.
“Can you keep an eye on him?” I asked Marie as I motioned to Faust.
“Sure. I’ll break out the playing cards.”
“I don’t believe you and I have been properly introduced, Miss Duquesne,” Faust said. He bowed politely, and then held his hand out as though to shake hers. I hadn’t realized that Faust and Marie’s paths hadn’t crossed yet, but I wasn’t surprised. They both popped in and out at odd hours.
“You can call me Marie.” She put her hand out, and instead of shaking it, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”
No good could come of that. Marie was a guardian. She could handle herself. Right?
Lord and Lady…
Ignoring them, I headed for the mirror in our bedroom. Portia could probably pop us to where we needed to go, but as Titania I really needed to be able to do this kind of thing myself. I looked for something to cut my palm with as I stood in front of the mirror, and Lex gently nudged me aside.
“Let me handle it,” he said.
“Sure,” I said, not wanting to argue. I had a feeling it was going to be a long nine months of “let me get that for you”, but as Titania I’d cut myself more in the past few months than an emo teenager with an epic sad, so he was welcome to take a turn.
Lex drew a short knife from within his coat and nicked his thumb. He spoke the words of an opening spell and pressed his hand against the glass. The glass shimmered and glowed until an image formed. It was a throne room made of ice, and I swallowed hard. This was stupid. Why was I bothering Lady Cecelia on behalf of a shadowspawn faerie? I’d be lucky if she didn’t smite me for the impertinence of the suggestion.
We stepped through the mirror, and the temperature dropped. I exhaled a misty cloud of breath, and just as I wished for a jacket, Lex draped his around my shoulders. I loved that man.
The entire room was made of ice—walls, floors, ceiling, the whole shebang. I knew she was some sort of frost faerie like my cousins, so it made sense. I’d never asked what Cecelia’s clan was, because I assumed she’d tell me if I needed to know.
“To what do I owe this visit?” Cecelia asked. We turned and spotted her standing in an arched doorway. Her wings almost took up the entire space, but then she waltzed forward and perched atop her icy throne.
“I know this is short notice, and I apologize for that. I’m also really sorry that this is an…odd request,” I stammered. I stepped forward, and though I expected to slip and slide like trying to cross a rink without skates, the floor felt normal beneath me.
“Is this concerning the challenge to your position as Titania and Oberon?” she asked.
“No…” I looked to Lex for support and then took a deep breath. “You know about my unfortunate connection to Zachary Harrison. Well, we’ve been looking for a way to undo it, and we located a ritual that will break the bond. And that’s great, right? But the ritual requires some of Harrison’s blood, willingly given, and we know he’s not going to volunteer to do that. So we hired a minion of his to get the blood for us, but it comes with a condition.” I stopped, my mental gears grinding to a halt as I tried to compose a logical way to ask her.
“And this condition would be?” she prompted gently.
“It’s very unconventional. And I completely understand if you say no.”
“It would help if you told me what it was.” The corners of Cecelia’s mouth twitched, and I hoped she kept her good humor.
“Right. I asked Faust for his help, because apparently he’s Harrison’s uncle, but he doesn’t approve of what Harrison’s been up to. And Faust said that he would do it, but only if I asked you if you would speak with him. So will you speak with him? Please?”
She blinked, and then she sighed. “I was afraid that allowing him to sponsor Dorian’s candidacy to become Oberon would open the door to further contact. It appears that I was correct.”
“He doesn’t want to pester you about letting him back in or anything,” I said, not sure if that would help or not. “He wants to talk to you about this crazy idea he has. It would only be for a few minutes. And it doesn’t have to be right this minute. Well, sooner would be better than later, because of the baby and all—”
“Baby?” Cecelia interrupted.
“Yes. I’m pregnant. And I know I’m probably not allowed to ask for special treatment or anything as far as the final challenge goes, but if you could try to keep impaling things out of it I’d really appreciate it.” I winced, because that sounded whiny. “But that’s why I need to get unstuck from Harrison as soon as possible. I can’t let his ambition put my child at risk.” There, that sounded much more mature and professional.
“I understand. Congratulations on your impending motherhood,” she said regally.
“Oh. Thank you.” I grinned like an idiot, and then took a deep breath as I waited for her decision. Her pale brow creased as she considered her reply, and then she nodded.
“I will allow it. This conversation was bound to happen at some point. As I understand it, Faust has been attempting to speak with several members of Faerie about this subject.” Cecelia shot a meaningful glance at Portia, and I knew her clandestine meetings were not as clandestine as my cousin thought. At least she wasn’t being openly accused or punished for it.
“Thank you,” I said again.
“Give Faust this missive. It will instruct him where and when I will meet with him.”
The faerie held a small envelope, the size of an RSVP card, out to me. The thing appeared out of thin air, like she was a sleight-of-hand artist. I took it from her and held on to it for dear life.
“Thanks, we’ll get out of your hair now,” I said. “Can you take us back please?” I asked Portia. She nodded, her ivory curls bouncing with the force of it, and we were blinked out of the cold and back into our living room. I sighed in relief—was I sighing too much? Much more and I’d need an inhaler. I slipped Lex’s coat off and handed it to him, and I spotted Faust and Marie on the couch, sipping glasses of red wine.
“Here,” I said, holding the envelope out to him.
“What is this?” he asked.
“It’s your meeting time with Cecelia. Try not to embarrass me when you talk with her,” I replied.
“Thank you. I am impressed.”
“Uh huh. Just stick to your end of the agreement. I need to be rid of Zach before he gets me stabbed again.”
“I understand not wanting to fight his battles, but is there a specific reason for your haste?” Faust asked.
I looked at Lex for guidance. I didn’t want Faust to know, but if he felt it was necessary…
<
br /> “Yes,” Lex said, “and it’s not your concern.”
“Very well. I will return as soon as I am able. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Duquesne. Good evening.” Faust smiled and then vanished, reminding me a bit of the Cheshire cat.
Chapter Eleven
Three days. Three stress-filled days of waiting to hear back from Faust about our important spell ingredient. I tried to keep busy in the meantime. I met with my gynecologist and confirmed what every demon in the shadow realm already knew—I was officially pregnant and due in June. I left the appointment armed with pamphlets, lists, recommended baby books, and a new worry—miscarriage. I’d been under the impression that miscarriages only happened in soap operas and chick flicks, and apparently I was very mistaken. Despite all my efforts to protect myself against vampire duels, hunter attacks, and faerie throwdowns, a miscarriage could happen at any time, for no apparent reason, like someone hit Control + Alt + Delete on my uterus. One more fear to keep me up at night. There were serious issues we’d have to deal with, all of which buzzed through my head the moment it touched my pillow. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t sleep.
When I called Mac and told him the news, he was concerned at first, and I had to give him props for being more level-headed than Portia and Marie. But Mac was happy for me and offered to help me paint the nursery when we bought our new house. Which reminded me that we seriously needed to get started with the new-house-hunting. I put it at first thing on my list, after breaking up with Zachary Harrison.
Well, maybe not the first thing. With each passing day, more and more magicians went missing. Lex and Marie taped a map of the Chicagoland area to the wall of our study, and began using pushpins to mark where people had been taken. A different color for each type of magician. The largest scattering of pushpins was brown, for shapeshifters, and the color covered the length and breadth of the map. Everyone was represented—witches, sorcerers, necromancers, summoners, librarians, alchemists—with the exception of guardians and seers. There weren’t any seers that I knew of in the area, aside from Emily Black, and the guardians could pretty much take care of themselves.