The Castle of Fire and Fable

by Steffanie Holmes

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Fuck this. Not again. Not now.

  I was weak, so weak. I was falling apart because I couldn’t have what I wanted, like a spoiled child throwing his toys around his room.

  We all needed to be strong now, together, to prepare for what was coming. Corbin seemed confident that the way to stop the fae would present itself in his books, but I knew better. Battles like this were won in blood. That was what our parents had learned. My legacy was to fight.

  Blood was the only language I understood.

  I have to fight for Maeve, for Mum, for Corbin and Rowan and Flynn and Jane and Connor, because second chances were everything and they all deserved to experience joy and peace. Which meant I couldn’t keep wallowing in this. I had to get it out of myself, the only way I knew how.

  I grabbed the sword, held it against my skin, laying it over the crisscrossed scars – a book of my past weaknesses.

  I gritted my teeth against the pain that was coming. The healing pain that would give me the strength I needed.

  I drew the blade.

  39

  MAEVE

  I had a fivesome.

  A fivesome.

  I didn’t even know there was a technical term for that.

  The five of us collapsed against the Chesterfield sofa, our naked bodies tangled together. As the endorphins wore off and the last tendrils of my magic floated off to join the others, my mind wandered. My eyes counted the gilded leaves that bordered the painted panels on the ceiling, and then I noticed the panels themselves. Painted in a Renaissance style – although I suspected they were 17th century copies – they depicted scenes from the Bible. Angels resplendent in gauzy fabrics bore the righteous up to heaven, while demons boiled the sinners in the hellish scenes below.

  And I thought about the Crawfords.

  Kind of a buzz killer after amazing sex with four gorgeous guys, but those panels made me remember all the sermons Dad had given during Sunday service, all the times he leaned out from behind his lectern, admonishing us that Hell was real, that it waited for fornicators and sorcerers and people who did not know the Glory of God. He never said it, but I knew he included ‘Atheists’ amongst those not entering the Kingdom of Heaven.

  I loved my parents with all my heart. I missed them so much my chest ached. I tried my best to run my life according to the example they set. But in the month since they’d been taken from this mortal coil, I’d already broken every hard rule they’d ever tried to drill into me.

  Witch, fornicator, atheist, worshipper of false idols. Take your pick. I’d racked up an impressive rap sheet of sins.

  I couldn’t believe I’d thought they’d somehow approve of what I’d done. In their worldview, I’d be going to Hell. I’d be boiled in pitch and separated from my limbs and little demons would be jabbing pitchforks in my butt. I’d be sentenced to pushing a stone up a hill forever.

  When I’d been mulling over this choice for the last couple of days, I’d thought of it as following their lead, as thinking for myself and not following what society or religion or whatever told me to do. And now, I’d never felt further from them. Lying in that pile of bodies, I suddenly felt completely, incomprehensibly alone.

  I sat up, sliding my legs out from under Corbin. I hunted around on the rug and on top of the globe bar for my clothes. My fingers trembled as I tugged my shirt over my head and zipped up my skirt.

  “Maeve?” Rowan’s head popped up from the pile. He lay on Corbin’s chest, his long eyelashes tangled together and his dreadlocks splayed out in all directions.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  “Are you okay?” Trust Rowan to see the panic in my face.

  “Yes. I’m fine. I just need to go.”

  I raced out of the room before Rowan could reply, before the tears I’d been holding back could spill over. They did this now as I fled up the stairs.

  At the top of the first flight my mother’s gaze caught my eye. I stumbled in front of the painting, gasping and sobbing as I saw her expression.

  Her face was twisted again – not with horror, but with concern. Her wide eyes gazed at me like she wanted to ask me what was wrong.

  Why are you crying? A voice inside my head that wasn’t mine cooed.

  “No, no, no!” I shoved my hands on my ears. I tore my eyes away from the portrait and raced for the stairs to my bedroom.

  I flung myself down on my bed, throwing my pillow over my head, wishing I could block out everything. My aching thighs and core reminded me that I was an awful person, that if my parents were looking down on me from Heaven, they’d be horrified by what they saw. Sinner. Heathen. Witch. I shouldn’t care, since I didn’t even believe in Heaven, but I loved them and I missed them and I cared so goddamn much—

  Beside my bed my phone vibrated, creeping its way toward the edge of the table. I was in no state to talk to anyone, but when I picked it up to flick it off, I noticed Kelly’s picture on the screen.

  She’d been trying to talk to me for days and I’d been completely neglecting her. I wiped my face with my wrist and clicked the phone.

  “Maeve?” Hearing Kelly’s voice made my body shake and fresh tears pool in the corners of my eyes. Get a grip, Maeve.

  “Hey, Kelly.”

  “Are you okay? You sound a little choked up.”

  “I—” my voice caught. So much for getting a grip. “I’m not, really. I was just thinking about Mom and Dad.”

  “Oh.” Silence on the other end.

  “I just…” I sucked in a breath. “Do you believe they’re up there, in Heaven, watching down on us?”

  “You know I do.” Kelly’s voice was guarded. She was still a Christian, and we’d never been able to see eye-to-eye on that.

  “Do they see everything? What if they see something that upset them? Do angels even get upset? What if they discovered something that made them realize they were wrong to love you?”

  “Maeve, where’s this coming from? You don’t even believe in angels, so what—” Her voice rose a pitch. “Don’t tell me, you did something Mom and Dad wouldn’t approve of. Omigod, did you sleep with one of your gorgeous tenants?”

  One of them? Try four of them, all at the same time. But no way in hell could I even begin to tell Kelly that. I couldn’t even form the words. “Yeah.”

  “Omigod, I knew it! What was it like? Who was it with? No, let me guess – the blond Aragon?”

  No. Not Arthur. Arthur knows I’m broken, I was tainted by evil. He doesn’t want to touch me.

  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I sniffed.

  “Okay, fine. But what are you worried about? You had sex before and you never got upset.”

  “Mom and Dad weren’t dead then.” And I didn’t know I was a witch and paintings didn’t talk to me and my father the evil fae wasn’t trying to destroy the world.

  “That’s right. They’re dead. And you’re over there living it up with hot guys and a big house.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Of course it’s true. That’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing, Maeve. You deserve that. You were always the one who was going to be an astronaut and do amazing things. Everything you did was perfect – your perfect report cards, your perfect artwork, your perfect abstinence. If they’re looking down on you, they’re just going to think everything you do is as perfect as before. You don’t have anything do worry about.”

  “They never thought I was perfect.” I thought back to all the fights we’d had over my pursuit of science, over that time I protested against the school board teaching creationism, when they found that Richard Dawkins book under my bed and grounded me for a week.

  “They did. I heard them praying for you all the time, that you’d turn your passion toward the Lord. But at least they prayed for you.” Her voice hitched.

  “Kelly, no. Don’t think that. You were their real daughter. They loved you. They didn’t pit us against each other.” In fact, I’d always thought she wa
s the favorite. After all, she was the biological daughter, the one who never caused any trouble or said blasphemous things, the perfect little Christian girl.

  “It’s okay.” Her voice sounded flat. “I know that it’s true. I was the disappointment to them – their own flesh and blood who could never measure up to the miracle baby they saved from the orphanage. And then they died and I never ever got the chance to make them proud of me. Well, maybe I’ll be able to do that now.”

  “Kelly, they were always proud of you—”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Kelly, I really need to talk to you about this.” The idea of sitting in silence in my room with all these horrible thoughts terrified me.

  “I’m sorry, Maeve. You’ll figure it out. You always do. You’re so strong and clever and brave. Not like me.”

  “Kelly—”

  “Goodbye, Maeve. I love you so much.”

  I listened to the dial tone in my ear, tears streaming down my face. I thought we were sisters. I thought we’d be there for each other, no matter what. When had everything between us gone so horribly wrong?

  40

  ROWAN

  I knocked on Maeve’s closed door, a tray of scones and raspberry and vanilla tea balanced on my arm.

  “No thanks,” she whispered back.

  Her voice cracked with pain, and my whole body stiffened. I wanted nothing more than to fling open that door and wrap her in my arms and kiss away the guilt and pain she was feeling.

  But that was Corbin, or Flynn, or Arthur. And I hadn’t seen Arthur all day and I’d told the others not to go after her, because I could also see when someone needed time alone.

  I slunk back down the stairs. Jane was waiting at the bottom, staring up at me with accusatory eyes. I shook my head, not even sure where to begin telling her what had happened while she was gone.

  Corbin. I have to talk to Corbin.

  The thought of it made my guts twist and my anxiety claw at me worse than ever. I rushed to the edge of the covered walkway and glanced down, focusing on the large cobbles below. I started counting from the top left corner, nearest the visitor entrance for the castle tours. One… two… three…

  You can ignore it all you want, Rowan, but it’s just going to eat away at you. Your cocks practically touched inside Maeve. Corbin’s not gay, so he has to be freaked out by that. And he’s going to be even more freaked out when he finds out how into it you were. You’d better commit those cobbles to memory, because this is probably the last time you’ll see them—

  Footsteps thundered across the courtyard, jolting me out of my approaching panic. “Guys,” Corbin yelled up from the ground as he jogged across the courtyard, sweat sticking his t-shirt to his taut muscles. “You won’t believe this. I just checked the wards around the gateway and they’re stronger than ever. There’s no way Daigh could get through there now.”

  “Fancy that.” Blake leaned over the walkway above the courtyard, clad only in a towel wrapped lazily around his narrow hips. A familiar smirk crossed his face.

  “What did you do?” Corbin’s eyes narrowed up at him.

  “I didn’t do anything you didn’t do, Casanova,” Blake grinned. Seeing Flynn’s incredulous look, he added, “I saw a documentary about Casanova last night. Anyway, we all lent our power to strengthen the wards, but Maeve was the one gave them the extra jolt they needed. Well, she and I did.”

  “Huh?”

  “You felt that gush of power after you blew your load into her earlier, right? That was Maeve’s and my power – intensified by our revels and leeching off your power – leaving us to strengthen the gateway.”

  I rubbed my arms, where my earth magic had hummed so intensely only an hour before. That certainly sounded like what had happened. Maeve’s power had yanked mine from my body, and the blast that sent us flying was certainly the most powerful thing I’d ever experienced.

  “That’s a pretty big deal. Why did you keep this secret from the rest of us until now?”

  “No secret. I only had the idea when Maeve told us she wanted to fuck us all. I told her about it and she agreed to try. The rest of you were a bit distracted but we figured you’d be fine with it, seeming as it’s for the good of all humanity.”

  “We were all there. I didn’t see you discuss it with Maeve.”

  “Neither did I,” Flynn frowned.

  Blake sighed. “You’re going to get all dramatic about this, I know it. You didn’t see because Maeve and I discussed it spiritually. You know, inside our heads.”

  “Fiddle-de-dee,” Flynn murmured.

  “You can’t just decide things without any discussion or input from the rest of us,” Corbin growled. “What if something went wrong? What if—”

  “I knew you’d get dramatic.“ Blake shrugged again. “You’ve got to relax or you’ll pop a testicle and Maeve will have no use for you. It was just an idea, a deduction, as Sherlock Holmes would say. Nothing went wrong. Our wards got strengthened. Maeve and I now understand how to combine our powers. You should be throwing me a party.”

  “But—”

  Blake grabbed the edge of his towel. “I need a shower and an entire bottle of Rowan’s strawberry body wash. I’m going to be a while. Better have that party ready when I’m done. And I want balloons!” He slammed the bathroom door behind him. The latch slid into place.

  Corbin’s face was so red, I worried he’d explode. He stormed across the courtyard and slammed the front door behind him.

  I glanced at the locked bathroom door. Everything Blake said made perfect sense, and if what Corbin said was really true, Blake and Maeve had solved our problems for the immediate future.

  And yet… I remembered the huge stack of curry Blake purchased this morning, and his sudden desire to return to nature, and the empty sleeping draught jar Maeve pulled out of the recycling the other day. I knew I hadn’t placed it there. Even if I’d emptied the jar – which I hadn’t – I would have washed it for reuse.

  Did all this mean anything? Was Blake up to something?

  41

  MAEVE

  “Strike!” Arthur yelled, swinging his sword at my head.

  We were outside in our favorite spot at the bottom of the apple orchard, slipping back into our old pattern of master and student as though yesterday hadn’t really happened. I’d found Arthur as he slipped into the bathroom this morning and had to fold my hands across my chest so he couldn’t see how turned on I was by his shirtless self. I told him I needed to practice my sword fighting, which was true. But really, I needed to make things right with Arthur.

  After the fivesome and my mother’s portrait changing again, a day by myself was exactly what I’d needed. I’d curled up in my room, pored over photographs of my parents and Kelly on Facebook, cried until my eyes ran dry, and realized that I’d freaked myself out yesterday because I was afraid about what I’d started with the guys, with us all together. It wasn’t about the sex, although that was amazing, but about how I’d opened my heart to them. I wasn’t just trusting one guy, I was trusting five of them, and that had been a little overwhelming, especially when I’d realized I couldn’t even trust that the paint on a canvas would stay where it had been put.

  A late-night snack of Blake’s leftover curry and a good night’s sleep did wonders to ease my fears. I didn’t have any filthy dreams. Perhaps I’d got it all out of my system earlier.

  At Arthur’s command I lifted my own weapon from its guard at my waist, throwing my weight behind the strike as my steel slammed into Arthur’s sword. My strike caught his sword too near the tip at the wrong angle, and he wound it under mine, easily shoving my blade to the side and thrusting the tip of his sword at my head.

  “What did you do wrong?” Arthur asked, his blade hovering an inch from my throat.

  “I…” My heart thudded in my ears. “I lifted my sword, instead of swinging it.”

  “And why is that bad?”

  “Because of timing.” I struggled to recall the tenets o
f sword fighting Arthur had taught me. “I don’t have time to lift my arms up to meet your blade at the right point before you get to me. That’s why my sword caught yours too close to the tip.”’

  “Bingo.” Arthur grinned, sliding his sword back. I dropped my arms, my muscles trembling from the workout. God, it was good to see him grin.

  Arthur tossed me a bottle of water. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been practicing for two hours.”

  “Only two hours?” I grinned, plonking down next to him in the grass. “I could go for four, easy.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “That so?”

  “Admit it, Aragorn. I’m a fast learner.”

  “You are, actually. I didn’t think you’d take to this. None of the other guys are interested. Corbin gets all tangled up trying to think his way through every movement, and Flynn just wants to run around yelling quotes from The Three Musketeers.”

  I shrugged. “A lot of it’s just physics – figuring out where and how to hit the blade to force an action. Of course, it’s hard to remember physics when a crazy sword-wielding Viking is coming at you. But I’m getting there.”

  I leaned in, drawn by the curl of Arthur’s lips, by the sharp intake of breath as I came closer. His beard grazed my chin. I touched my lips to his.

  Arthur drew away. “Maeve…”

  My body ached for him to touch me. “You don’t have to do the group thing, but I thought—”

  He looked away, shaking his head. He touched his elbow, and I noticed he wore long sleeves today, rolled up to just under his elbows, hiding the scars I’d seen there. “I can’t.”

  Disappointment surged through me. “I just thought… you and I…”

  Arthur stared directly at me, fire blazing in his eyes. “You’ve every right to be with and do whatever you want with whoever you want. But I… I can’t be part of it. Not with those guys. I can’t share you, okay?”