by Amy Sumida
“Where is she?” Lugh demanded. “Let me through! Isleen! Isleen!”
The crowd parted and the High Prince of Faerie bolted through the passage. All of us gaped at the frantic man. His shining hair hung about his thick shoulders in tangles, a wild look haunted his eyes, and his nose was as red as Rudolph's. His golden stare finally found its target and latched onto her. He ran to Isleen and swept her up in a passionate kiss.
“Is everyone else seeing this?” I asked, my reclaimed muffin hanging forgotten in my hand.
“Yep,” Viper confirmed. “Lugh is lip-locked with Isleen.”
Isleen shoved her way out of the kiss and glared at Lugh. “What have you done?!”
Lugh blinked at her for a moment before another voice, this one female, interrupted.
“It didn't work.”
I spun around to watch Ethniu walk up. The goddess looked nothing like her son, who had pulled almost exclusively from his father's DNA. Her deep auburn hair was braided back from her face intricately, her green eyes bright and clear, and her skin, though pale, looked healthy. Ethniu had weathered the storm of the Faerie Realm closing far better than her son. Wait, what did she say?
“What didn't work?” Arach demanded.
“The wayfarers have been toiling ceaselessly since you left,” Ethniu explained. “Cian even added his magic to theirs but every time they closed the realm, the magic would break and just... vanish. They've finally given up, at least for now. Cian has concluded that the wild magic on Earth is too strong. It keeps breaking through the shield the wayfarers set and establishing new connections.”
“Faerie is still open?” Arach whispered in a tone partly horrified and partly joyous.
“It is,” Ethniu confirmed. “I don't believe it wants to be closed. The magic will not permit it.”
The room held its breath as those of us who were fey looked at each other. I set my stare on Arach, unsure whether I should be happy or not. We had left. We'd made our goodbyes, abdicated our thrones, and given up our lives there. We did so rapidly and in desperation. And now, just as suddenly, it appeared that it was all for naught.
The Imps broke the silence by cheering.
That was the nudge we needed—a reminder that it was okay to be happy even if it might mean more trouble was on the horizon. Arach rushed to me, swept me up, and spun me around, his face split in a joyous grin. Everyone started laughing and shouting and cheering. Even the nurials danced about on their six legs. As Arach set me down, I saw Isleen staring at Lugh. She shook her head and backed away from him.
“Isleen?” Lugh asked in confusion.
“No,” Isleen whispered. “I've already made peace with the end of us. I can't do this again, Lugh.”
“But there doesn't have to be an end to us!” Lugh snarled.
“Yes, there does,” Isleen said firmly. “It was always coming.”
“What does that mean?”
“You are the High Prince of Faerie. I cannot marry you. There is no future for us.”
The joy in the room dimmed as we watched another drama unfold. Even the children went wide-eyed and silent.
“Of course, there's a future!” Lugh shouted. “I came here to propose again. I want you to be my wife, Isleen. That hasn't changed.”
“No,” she said simply. “I won't leave my family.”
“You don't have to leave your family. They can come back now. What's the damn problem?”
“I will return to the Fire Kingdom, where they need me,” she explained. “If I marry you, I'd have to move to the Castle of Eight. I can't do that, Lugh.”
“Isleen,” Arach interrupted in his resonant king voice.
Isleen turned to him, startled. “Yes, my King?”
“You are fired.”
“What?” she squeaked.
“This is long overdue but I didn't want to push you. Now, I see that I must. You are a duchess; it isn't appropriate for you to be my chatelaine. So, I hereby release you from your duties and offer you the deep gratitude of the Fire Kingdom for your many years of service.” Arach went to her and kissed her cheek. He softened his tone to add, “Be happy, Isleen. Love should not be cast aside for such silly reasons. Take it and defend it against all enemies. It's a treasure that you richly deserve.”
“I...” Isleen whispered, then looked at Lugh. “I can...”
“You can do whatever you wish to do, Mother of my Heart,” Arach said firmly. “If you want him, take him, or you may come home with me. You will always have a home wherever I am. But either way, your days of service are over.”
Isleen stepped away from Arach and went to Lugh. Lugh watched her warily.
“Did you bring a ring?” Isleen demanded.
Lugh fumbled in his pocket and yanked out a glittering diamond ring. He held it up to her like an offering, then, almost as an afterthought, fell to one knee. “I love you, Isleen. Losing you nearly killed me. Please, don't make me go through that again. Put me out of my misery and marry me.”
Isleen lifted her chin, looking as cool as ever. Her long, raven hair hung down her back in a sleek veil and her pale skin refused to show a hint of a flush, but her dark eyes sparked with fire and her lips spread into a beatific smile. She held out her hand imperiously. “I accept your proposal.”
Lugh hooted and shoved the ring on her finger before she could change her mind. He surged to his feet and embraced her as the entire room broke into applause.
“Of course,” a scornful voice drawled from the doorway on the other side of the room. “The world is falling into anarchy and despair but they're celebrating. Why not? Let's break out the bubbly and do a little dance.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Don't be a dick,” Hecate huffed as she stepped past her husband.
“What's a dick?” Vero asked his father innocently.
“It's a naughty word for the most precious part of a man's body,” Trevor said as Hekate grimaced at him apologetically.
Horus smirked at his wife as if he'd won a point. “You will need to curb your cursing when the baby comes.”
“Put a sock in it, Horus,” Kate declared. “How's that? Better?”
“Decidedly not,” Horus said primly. Then he glared around the room. “Why is it so damn crowded in here?”
The Intare moved aside, then down the hall, giving the God Squad—who was coming in behind Kate—space to move down the room.
“What's happened?” I demanded of the arriving gods.
“Father,” Thor brushed past Horus, “haven't you sensed it?”
Odin frowned, the expression making him look slightly older than his son for once. “I feel...” Odin looked up sharply, his shimmering peacock eyes gone wide. “Belief.”
Thor nodded. “The Gods are being worshiped again.”
“What? Why?” Viper asked as if the thought were ridiculous.
“Humans don't know what these plots of land are,” Finn explained. “There are multiple theories and gods—the old gods—have become one of them. Humans are afraid. They're worshiping whoever they think might save them.”
“Okay, children, grab a muffin and go outside!” I declared brightly. “Time to get some fresh air. And take Dexter and Deidre with you.”
“Mom,” Rian whined.
“Come on, we can play in the castle,” Brevyn reminded Rian. “We'll lay siege as dragons while they defend the battlements.”
I had built a miniature castle in front of Pride Palace for the children to play in. It, and the nearby swings, had become nearly as popular as the pool. It was enough to draw Rian outside despite the intrigue. As they left, Brevyn winked at me.
I gaped after my son as I remembered how calmly he'd taken the news of our leaving. He had told us, over and over, that it would be okay. Brevyn had known that the realm wouldn't close. Why didn't he tell us that? Was it because I would have told King Cian, who likely would have tried to close the realm anyway? Telling us wouldn't have helped. We would have had to leave anyway, just in
case the wayfarers succeeded, but it would have been a wishy-washy, maybe-we'll-be-back sort of goodbye that would have been far worse than the beautiful tribute the entire realm had given us. My poor, sweet boy had kept quiet, knowing that he couldn't do anything to help beyond telling us that it would be okay in the end. This is why I hated his gift. I'd seen enough psychics suffer to know that it wasn't a gift at all. It was so damn unfair that he had to shoulder such things at his age. But Brevyn had an old soul—a good soul—and he had proven himself more than capable of handling his visions and his exceptional magic.
When the kids were gone, I looked at Finn and nodded. “Go on.”
“The magic has grown. It's starting to head toward the cities,” Finn said. “The humans are fighting back with pesticides and fire and fucking bulldozers. They've even dropped bombs on it.”
“What?!” Arach snarled.
“And the magic is defending itself,” Pan said grimly.
“What does that mean?” Trevor asked.
“It hasn't killed anyone yet but many have been hurt. Vines sprout suddenly to lash out at humans, flowers infect the air with poisonous fragrance, and the ground itself rises to overturn any machinery that threatens the plants. As for the bombs and fire—they do some damage but then the plants burst back into existence, extending further than they had before they were attacked. It's as if the heat causes a chain reaction.”
“Like in Evolution,” I murmured. “Great googa mooga.”
“That is not evolution, Vervain,” Odin said dryly.
“She means the movie.” Trevor slapped Odin's shoulder. “Thus, the great googa mooga quote. Although, I think the one about napalm might be more appropriate.”
“Napalm. Lots and lots of napalm,” I confirmed Trevor's explanation by providing the quote. “In the movie, the aliens' DNA reacted to heat. It caused them to evolve rapidly.”
“I think this is more of a case of a response to stimuli than of evolution,” Odin argued.
“I don't think it's either,” Arach said pensively. “Fire is an element and fey magic, which is what is powering these plants, is elemental. It could be using the heat for energy, as we Fire Fey do. Any type of elemental attack will likely fuel it.”
The muffin machine dinged, startling several of us, and a tray of muffins popped out.
“I'll get it!” Scotaidh said brightly as he hurried over wearing potholders two sizes too big for his little hands. He grabbed the tray, dumped the muffins onto a plate, and handed it to another Imp to start dispensing to the crowd.
“Oh, muffins!” Pan exclaimed.
The Imp went straight to Pan with a wide grin. All chefs like to be appreciated.
“Well, whatever the reason for the rapid growth, the humans quickly learned that dropping bombs on magic land is a bad idea,” Morpheus drawled, then snatched a muffin.
“Military forces guard every site and they're not letting anyone past,” Brahma said. “Even the scientists have been sent away. They're monitoring activity with drones and helicopters.”
“People must be going insane,” I whispered. “What a difference a day can make.”
“The Internet is alight with panic,” Torrent confirmed.
“My Queen!” Scotaidh tapped my arm with a potholder.
“Yes?”
“We can help with Inter Realm panic,” he said. “We can destroy bad things people say.”
“Maybe later,” I said gently. “If we start erasing people's panicked posts right now, they may think there's a government conspiracy going on and panic more. Let them vent.”
“Yes, My Queen,” he said with some disappointment.
“All right,” I gave in. “You may remove the posts that are excessively angry and inflammatory and replace them with peaceful, calming words.”
“Yay!” The Imps cheered and ran off.
“Hey!” I called after them. “How do you turn off the muffin machine?”
“Press the red button!” one of them shouted back.
I started searching for a red button.
“It's not just the plants that are scaring the humans,” Teharon said.
“Don't tell me that more fey animals have come through,” I groaned as I looked up from the muffin machine.
“No, it's not that.”
“My father posted guards around the raths that have opened in Faerie,” Lugh said. “Nothing will be allowed through in either direction.”
“A drone nearly made it through,” Finn said.
“What?! What happened to it?” I went still.
“The feed cut off as soon as it entered the rath so the humans didn't see anything. It tumbled out a few seconds later, completely destroyed.”
“That could have gone worse,” I muttered. “So, if it's not animals coming through, then what is it?”
“Oh, it's animals,” Pan said. “They're just not coming through the rath and they're not fey. At least, they didn't start as fey.”
“The magic is infecting earth animals?” Odin demanded.
Pan nodded.
“Has anyone checked on my family? My friends? How are California and Hawaii?” I asked urgently.
“The MZ in Hawaii hasn't spread much further than the botanical gardens and there isn't one in California,” Morpheus said. “Your people are fine.”
“MZs?” I asked.
“Magical Zones,” Horus said with a grimace. “That's what the humans are calling them. It started online—as every ridiculous term does.”
“So, they've finally figured out that it's magic,” Arach murmured.
“I don't think they have,” Blue said sardonically. “It wasn't the humans in charge who came up with the name.”
“But it will be hard for them to keep denying it,” Eztli said to her husband. “Human scientists may not want to believe it's magic, but the proof is staring them in the face.”
“We need to get down there,” I declared. “I want to take a closer look.”
“Zere's Lexington,” Kirill suggested. “You can observe zere vithout having to go invisible.”
“No, I want to see what the humans are doing too,” I said.
“No, you don't,” Horus made a disgusted face.
“They're fucking like rabbits,” Pan declared grimly.
The fact that Pan used such a somber tone when referring to sex worried me.
“Excuse me?” I blinked at him.
“Oh, sorry.” Pan rolled his eyes. “They're making love like bunnies.”
“I wasn't criticizing your wording,” I huffed. “I was expressing shock. The children aren't here and the situation is dire; use all the fucking profanity you want.”
“Oh. Thanks.” Pan grinned.
“The magic is affecting the humans as it did the Fey,” Arach concluded.
“The good news is that it's prevented a lot of violence,” Morpheus said. “People have formed mobs to attack the encroaching plant life but as soon as they get near, they stop being angry and start getting horny. They run off to find partners—some don't even bother leaving the area. The governments have evacuated areas within a mile of any zone.”
“But you said that they were using pesticides and bulldozers,” Viper pointed out. “And that the MZs were defending themselves. And how are soldiers guarding them?”
“The magic doesn't affect everyone.” Morph shrugged. “It's erratic. Some are able to resist it. Who knows, maybe it's causing other reactions in everyone else that just haven't been noticed yet. Maybe the lust is part of its defenses.”
“There's no way to know what happening exactly.” Odin scowled; he hated not knowing things, especially when the ignorance could prove harmful.
“Maybe those who are immune are witches and their fey ancestry is protecting them,” I suggested.
“I doubt that,” Arach argued. “The Fey weren't able to resist the magic in Faerie. In fact, you and Lugh were the only ones who were immune to it. It had to be your human and god blood that protected you.”
> “What if it worked against the Fey in Faerie but now that's it's on Earth, it's targeting humans?” Torrent asked.
Arach considered this. “The magic has been changing. I suppose it's possible that's it's aligning itself with Earth and its inhabitants.”
“Or it could be the plants!” I declared.
Everyone looked at me as if that were obvious.