by Amy Sumida
The nurials stepped slowly out of the tracing room and I went with them. Dexter went first, Deidre next, and then Arach held the door open so they could retreat if they needed to.
“This is a new palace for you to explore,” Isleen said to them. “You will like it here, I'm sure.”
And then a loud hissing came from the stairs.
The nurials went still, their eyes locked on my gray tabby cat, Nicholas. Nick's fur fluffed into cotton candy proportions.
“Fruity Pebbles!” I cursed. “I forgot about Nick.
Nick started that angry yowl that cats do right before they attack. Under other circumstances, he might have run from the huge fey beasts in his parlor, but Pride Palace was Nick's home and he was surrounded by people who loved him. That gave him enough confidence to be stupid. The nurials' crimson eyes flared and their heads lowered as if they might leap before Nick did.
“Bad kitty!” Vero said suddenly and pointed at Nick.
A wave of magic rolled out from my son to Nicholas. Nick went still, then shuddered. His fur slicked down and his big, kitty eyes blinked into calm. He padded down the stone stairs and wove himself around Vero's legs as he began to purr. I gaped at my ferocious cat—the same one who used to come home with battle wounds and leave pieces of dead things on my doorstep—as my son picked him up and flipped him over to carry like a baby.
Vero's magic was the Dark Dominion—control over night creatures. Cats aren't technically night creatures since they're crepuscular—active at dusk and dawn—not nocturnal. But neither Vero nor Nick seemed to know that. My son's magic had turned the bristling cat into a purring kitten. A well-behaved kitten.
The nurials were impressed. They stepped over and sniffed Vero, then the cat. Nick gave them a side-eyed look and went back to purring. Seeing the tiny animal so at ease seemed to relax the nurials. They wandered out further, first circling the children, who giggled and pet them, then advancing on the others.
“Well done, kid,” I said to Vero.
“Thanks, Mommy.” Vero grinned.
“Look after Dex and Deidre, okay? I've got to get your brothers.”
“Okay,” Vero said solemnly.
“And you,” I said to Lesya as I removed the bag with Blossom. I took Blossom's pot out and handed it to my daughter as if it were full of diamonds. “Look after Blossom for me. Talk to her; she likes that.”
“Yes, Mommy,” Lesya clutched the pot to her chest and Blossom bent her stalk to brush Lesya's cheek with her petals. Lesya giggled and nuzzled the flower back. “Hello, Blossom.”
“You should have done that,” I whispered to Trevor, who was the one I'd given the Dark Dominion to, in the first place. Vero had inherited it from his father.
Trevor grimaced. “Honestly, I forget that I have it.”
“You're lucky our son has a better memory,” I teased him.
“Vervain,” Arach said pointedly.
“I'll be right back,” I said to everyone else as Arach and I headed back into the tracing room.
“That was unexpected,” Arach noted as we headed to the tracing wall.
“If that's the biggest problem we have today, I'll count myself lucky,” I muttered before I traced back to Faerie.
Lugh was gone and the High Royals looked grim. I took Brevyn's hand with one of mine and his suitcase with the other while Arach did the same with Rian. I made sure the Imps had the tracing chant memorized, then faced my people one last time.
“Goodbye,” I said simply. “I love you all.”
“Goodbye,” my boys called to the Fire Faeries.
Arach just lifted a hand.
The faeries called out their goodbyes to us as we headed to the Great Tree. The Imps closed in behind us, and we traced away from Faerie for the last time.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Getting everyone settled took awhile and was exactly what I needed to distract myself from the pain of leaving Faerie. I put Arach and our boys in the room they always used when they visited, one floor down from my bedroom. I didn't want to make them tower rooms; it would feel too much like a downgrade for them. Isleen was given an apartment on the same floor; I made it look as close to her old bedroom as possible. Blossom went into a new tall pot that I made from territory magic. I put her out on the balcony so she'd have a nice view and catch some rays during the day. The nurials got beds in the boys' room and the Imps were given guest rooms among the Intare.
When all of that was done and the children were asleep in their beds, my husbands and I headed up to our suite. When the door shut, Arach pulled me into an embrace and we wept. With his arms tightly around me and his head bent over mine, we mourned the loss of our home together. It was one of the few times I'd ever seen him cry. I wished I could have been more of a comfort to him, but sharing the pain, at least for me, was better. It made grieving feel okay; if Arach could break down, then so could I.
The other men went to the kitchenette and busied themselves there, giving us a little privacy. And when our tears were finally gone—wiped away by each other—and we were able to take a few strong breaths, Arach and I joined them at the kitchen table.
“Here.” Trevor set glasses down in front of Arach and me. “It's Hellbrew. I thought you could use it.”
“Thank you,” I murmured and took a fortifying sip. “So, what's happened since we've been gone?”
“Fucking insanity,” Viper muttered.
“Are you kidding me?” I grumbled. “It's been a day, at least for you.”
“Could you be more specific?” Arach asked at the same time.
“We've been hunting the fey creatures that came through the raths,” Trevor said. “With the combined effort of the Froekn, Thunderbirds, Itakupe, Vilkacis, and Intare, we managed to track them all down... we think.”
“The Owl-Shifters helped?” I asked in surprise.
“They came to us while we were out tracking and offered.” Trevor nodded.
“And you got all of the fey animals back to Faerie?” I asked in relief.
“We believe so. Honestly, they seemed relieved to go,” Odin said. “Humans have been hunting them and I mean with guns, not just to take their picture or trap them.”
“They tried to kill the fey animals?” I asked in shock.
“A few scared humans did,” Odin explained. “You know how they get when faced with something unknown.”
“Yeah. Violent.” I grimaced.
“The good news is that someone took a video of a group shooting at a nurial and posted it online.”
“A nurial!” I growled.
“The nurial is fine; he outran them. But the hunters got so much negative attention—even death threats—that governments all over the world outlawed hunting fey animals, calling them exotic unknown species whose existence is important to all of mankind.”
“But they're back in Faerie now, right?” I asked, just to be sure.
“We think so,” Azrael said. “But until they close Faerie, more could come through.”
“Faerie is probably closed already,” the words came out strained. “They were waiting for us to leave.”
“I'm sorry to say zis, but good.” Kirill gave me a sympathetic look. “Maybe ve can get zis under control now.”
“What else happened? What about the land?” I grimaced as I realized that I'd forgotten something important. “And Thor and Pan—are they okay? I can't believe I haven't asked about them yet.”
“They're both fine,” Azrael assured me. “They came back a few hours after you left. Thor was a little shaken, but Pan was in even better spirits than usual. He said that he felt invigorated.”
“Was he back to his normal self?” I waved a hand at my body to indicate his.
“Yeah, he was back to looking like Pan again,” Viper answered. “The only thing that put a damper on his mood was Horus pointing out that Pan had probably impregnated all of those Nymphs.”
I couldn't help chuckling. “He must have been horrified.”
&nbs
p; “It sobered him up all right,” Re said. “Poor guy.”
“That's what he gets for eating a faerie apple,” I huffed. “I mean, why did he do that? I've never thought of Pan as stupid. Carefree, yes, but not dumb. That was a dumb move.”
“He said the apple called to him,” Odin said soberly.
“What exactly did the apple say?” Arach asked.
“It didn't use a voice,” Odin explained, and the fact that he didn't find Arach's question ridiculous said a lot. “Pan said he just felt drawn to it.”
“That is not good,” Arach said to me. “The magic is behaving as faeries did in the beginning.”
“What do you mean?” Re asked.
“When the Fey first came to the Human Realm, they were... excited,” Arach tried to explain. “They ran amok, to put it nicely. Their elemental magic was lessened on Earth but in a non-magical world, it seemed greater. And then they discovered their power over humans and used it enthusiastically and often cruelly. Humans eventually started to fight back and find ways to ward us off and even kill us. Faeries became more wary and then respectful. After awhile, we formed a... well, if not a truce exactly, an understanding. There was peace. But then humans got more aggressive. Especially the religious ones.” He stopped to slide a look at Azrael, who grimaced. “Religion gave them a reason and the confidence to attack us. We were suddenly evil—anything magical was. Killing us was seen as a holy act. That's when the Dragon Wars began.”
“And Faerie was sealed off for the first time,” I concluded.
“Yes, but, as I said, the Fey were like that apple in the beginning. They drew humans to them, seducing them with their bodies and magic. Many humans went wild or insane, others disappeared into Faerie, and even more died. It was the clash of two worlds and such things always go poorly and even violently at first.”
“As they have now.” Odin nodded in agreement. “Humans are rioting and protesting. They can't agree on what to do about the fey land. They don't know what it is or if it's dangerous or the next step in evolution. Their scientists have been analyzing the plants and are baffled by what they've found.”
“We went in and looked over their research,” Azrael added. “We've been listening in on a few meetings between top government officials as well. Just trying to get a feel for what the humans with power will do.”
“You've been busy without me,” I muttered.
“It was necessary, Minn Elska,” Trevor said gently.
“And?” Arach asked. “What have the governments decided to do?”
“So far, they're content to quarantine the land,” Azrael reported. “The scientists believe that the plants could provide medical or even genetic advances. Those possibilities have stilled itchy trigger fingers.”
“What do itchy fingers have to do with plants?” Arach directed the question at me.
“A trigger finger is the finger that pulls the trigger of a gun. Saying someone has an itchy trigger finger means that they are nervous and want to act violently—to pull the trigger and shoot. But the possible benefits have kept them from destroying the fey land,” I explained.
“Ah,” Arach said. “Yes, offer humans health or wealth and they will do anything. Oh, and beauty; they love being beautiful.” He rolled his eyes. “They will give up everything else for that, even their freedom.”
“You've never been ugly or suffered scorn for it. You don't understand what it means to them,” Azrael chided Arach gently. “Beauty is important because it attracts a mate. It is a primal instinct, telling them that if they were just more handsome or powerful, they could be happy.”
“Then their instincts are flawed,” Arach said blithely. “There is power in ugliness. Monsters are feared and respected. In that way, it's a type of beauty.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Azrael agreed. “And beauty is an opinion. Many ugly but powerful people have no problem attracting mates. But still, being desired for your appearance is a part of human instinct. And not just human. It's one of the Nine Great Magics after all. Most of us enjoy being attractive. Even you, I suspect.”
“I never said I didn't.” Arach grinned. “Dragons are vain creatures. However, I would not give up all that I am or all that I love simply to be beautiful. That is what I scorn. They place too much esteem on it. And, by the way, the great magic of Beauty is not the same thing as common vanity.”
I wanted to interrupt them and tell them this was a silly argument to be having right now—that there were more important things to discuss than vanity—but I knew that Arach and Azrael needed the light banter. Arach was using arrogance as a shield, as he often did, protecting himself from the pain that talking about the Dragon Wars had brought up. Azrael, however, loved humans and was using the conversation to remind himself that despite the horrible things they did, humans were also worthy of respect.
So, I waited for them to finish before I asked, “How many locations are there?”
Nine, Alaric said in my mind. Including the one in Texas that the humans don't know about.
I held up my hand before anyone else could answer. “Alaric just said there are nine including the one in Lexington. Has anyone checked in with Austin?”
“He's fine,” Kirill said. “After Pan, Zor, and Nymphs left, Austin vent home. No need for him to guard property vith zem gone.”
“Good. I... nine!” I said in revelation.
Just caught that, did you? Alaric chuckled. Yes, the magic is following some sense of order.
“Is it order?” I asked aloud. “Or is it tradition?”
“I don't think the magic is worried about tradition.” Re had an arm over the back of his chair, as sprawled as one can get in a stiff-backed kitchen chair, but he looked shaken. His usually perfect appearance was lacking—his hair mussed and his clothes wrinkled.
It takes a lot to put signs of strain on a god's face, what with our rapid healing, but I saw them on Re—tightness around his eyes and lips. And they worried me. Re had been one of the most powerful people in Atlantis, then he became the head of his own pantheon. He's known incredible power for most of his very long life. Which made him a cool cat; it took a lot to shake him.
“Not tradition exactly but something similar,” Arach countered. “Like genetic memory in humans or that instinct we were speaking of. The magic remembers. It's self-aware.”
“It knows where it came from,” I whispered.
“Exactly,” Arach agreed.
“And it's trying to recreate its home,” Odin concluded.
“I don't believe that is its goal,” Arach argued. “It may be self-aware but that doesn't make it sentient like you or I. Magic doesn't have any goals; it simply is. And what it is, is fey. It's recreating its home because that's all it knows. It follows certain laws because that is what it knows as well. Pump gallons of ocean water out of the sea and pour it into a cement basin; it will still be seawater and that water will contain millions of tiny organisms that will go about living and dying and procreating just as if they are still a part of the whole. This magic is like stolen seawater, cut off from the ocean but still a microcosm of its source.”
“That's disturbing,” Re muttered.
You haven't asked me where the locations are, Al said ominously.
“Why? Where are they?” I asked warily. When the men gave me weird looks, I waved them off.
Texas, Hawaii, Norway, Ireland, Japan, Argentina, India, Russia, and Bahrain.
“What?” I whispered. “Those are all...”
Yes. I thought that was interesting as well.
“What is it?” Odin demanded.
I recited the list and Odin frowned, then his eyes widened.
“We knew where the sites were, but I never thought about them as a whole,” Odin murmured. “Never considered that there might be a connection. Damn! That was sloppy of me. How did I miss that?”
“Catch me up here.” Viper looked around at all of the shocked faces. “I know about Bahrain, Russia, Texas, and Hawaii but what's up wi
th the others?”
“Ve've had major battles in all of zose locations. Battles zhat deeply affected Vervain,” Kirill said grimly. “Ze fight in Ireland vas over Lesya. A goddess took her from us.”
“Someone took Lesya?” Viper asked in his WTF tone.
“Right out of an incubator. I didn't even get to hold her before she was gone.” I had to clear my throat and take a deep breath before I could continue, “It was one of the darkest times of my life.”
“I'm so sorry, Vervain,” Viper said softly.