Queen of Fire

by K. V. Adair

  Curious if it was real or illusion, I reached forward and held my hand a few inches from it. Tendrils of fire extended from the fire, gently licking my wrist.

  It didn’t hurt. My gut clenched and it wasn’t the only part of my body that did so. I pulled my hand back quickly.

  “Or you’ll burn me.”

  “Never, love.”

  I narrowed my eyes and lowered my voice. “Innis is right about one thing. Show some fucking respect.”

  He flinched and lowered his head. He looked down. “I apologize, my queen. You have a strange effect on me.”

  I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. “Seriously? Does that line usually work for you?”

  He looked up and met my eyes. “It’s not a line. You make me feel… comfortable. As if we’ve known each other since birth.”

  I wasn’t buying his bullshit. He had too much to gain from securing my trust.

  And I had too much to lose to give it. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

  He pressed his lips together tightly. “Yes, I do. You’re seen through me,” he said, his voice deadpan and robotic.

  I would have felt bad if he wasn’t so dramatic. “I think I can find my way on my own. Thank you, Prince Feoras.”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “Very well, my queen. But be careful. There are other monsters prowling here, too.”

  I ignored the unpleasant shiver his words caused and raised my chin. “Noted.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week passed without further incident. No one bothered me. Hell, no one even acknowledged me. Even Aidan was MIA. I’d seen him for maybe an hour since the disastrous meeting with the nobles.

  The only one who did make time for me was Eoin, which was both a blessing and a curse.

  He treated me, well, not quite like an equal, but at least with respect. His company wasn’t horrible, either.

  He still stuck with his faux formal speech patterns, but occasionally he slipped up. I noted each instance but never mentioned it.

  I might look like a child. I might even act like one. But if I had one talent, it was observation. I tended to notice what others missed.

  It meant knowing when someone was lying to me or lying in general. At least, that’s what I had always thought.

  Here I was out of my element, and I doubted everything.

  Another blessing was that Eoin had been teaching me how to access my power. Or attempting to.

  My progress was slower than trying to lose that last ten pounds.

  “Focus. In time, it will respond at the slightest whisper. But right now, you need to command it. Teach it that obedience is the only option.”

  “So, you’re telling me to pretty much act like you.”

  “I’m far more tolerant of you than anyone else. Do you really think of me as some kind of dictator?”

  “If the shoe fits.”

  “Maybe you should check my feet, then, rather than assume what is on them.”

  And that was a good demonstration of the curse part of things.

  While I could admire his quick comebacks, I wasn’t used to being out-quipped. I wanted at least one thing I could do better than him.

  He made me feel quite insecure.

  “Maybe we should get back to teaching me how not to blow up the castle.”

  Eoin chuckled. “I’m not sure that is even possible. Your magic…well it doesn’t work that way.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What can I do? Liam never told me.”

  “It depends. No two Fae have the same abilities, even in the same elemental family. And you’re not an element at all. Not really.”

  “Which makes me special.”

  “Which makes you rare. You specialness comes from something else entirely.”

  “You turned special into an insult. Bravo.”

  “I have many talents. Including patience, so let’s get back to work.”

  Another forty five minutes of nothing more than making my stomach ache and my knees sore passed.

  I cursed. Loudly.

  “This isn’t working. What am I doing wrong?”

  “Everything.”

  “Oh, thank you. Kicking me while I’m down. You’re so nice.”

  “I’m not here to be nice, Morgan. Nice doesn’t help you.”

  His voice was calm. Everything about him was calm. He had the patience of a monk.

  I very much didn’t.

  “It’s been a week and I’m no further along than I was before. I think I’m even regressing.”

  “How can you regress when you haven’t progressed yet?”

  I said nothing in response. I hadn’t told him about the weird power I’d felt inside when in that twisted hallway. Or how I was beginning to suspect my intuition was not what I’d always assumed it was.

  Or the way I could sense when others used their magic. I wasn’t sure if that last one was a shared ability or common, but no one had spoken of it, so neither did I.

  “Show me again,” I said.

  I hadn’t done anything unordinary, but he’d shown me a few of his talents, each more impressive than the last.

  “My magic is nothing like yours. It’s not useful to you.”

  “But it’s pretty.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Pretty? That’s a first.”

  I smiled. “Come on, are you really going to pass up the opportunity to show off?”

  He sighed but lifted his hands. He focused behind me with intensity. His greenish brown eyes turned more green, and his pupils dilated.

  When he began moving his fingers in an intricate pattern—nothing I could understand or mimic—I looked behind me.

  The dirt next to a tall oak tree began to swirl from the ground up like a developing twister. At about six inches high, it began to slow, packing into clumps of damp earth. Appendages developed. At first I was worried he was creating some kind of octopus creature, or worse a spider, but the appendages stopped at four. Then five. Then back to four, like he couldn’t make up his mind about what he was building.

  Before, he’d done things like crack a fissure in the ground around me, keeping me stuck in a circle. That one hadn’t amused me.

  Another time he’d arced lightning between his palms. When that hadn’t impressed me enough, he’d juggled three balls of electric energy.

  He’d dropped one, which was amusing until it had rolled to my foot and gave me a good zap.

  But whatever he was creating now was in a different league altogether.

  A head developed with solid brown eyes and a little smirk that reminded me of someone. The appendages became legs and arms.

  I realized what that fifth appendage had been intended to be and blushed.

  When the dust settled, Eoin gave a small grunt of exertion. The dirt hardened like clay left in the sun.

  He’d made what appeared to be a little garden gnome. Before I could clap, Eoin snapped his fingers behind me. The statue plodded over and sat down next to me.

  He hadn’t just made a cute lawn ornament. He’d animated it.

  “That’s adorable. Can I keep him?”

  “Him?”

  “I’ll call him little Eoin and keep him in my pocket.”

  Little Eoin looked up at me like he understood what I was saying. Was he sentient or a puppet?

  “I’m not okay with that,” Eoin said.

  “I didn’t ask permission.”

  Another snap of his fingers. Little Eoin crumbled into dust.

  “That was cruel,” I said, not hiding my disappointment.

  “It was a distraction.” He scrunched up his nose. “Besides, you were acting pretty creepy with it. I didn’t trust your intentions.”

  “What did you think I would do with him? Voodoo?”

  “It, not he. I didn’t give it a penis.”

  Laughter burst out of my mouth. Once it was out, it wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know how long I sat there, hysterical and sounding like a hyena. I also noted he hadn’t seem confused when
I’d said Voodoo.

  The corner of Eoin’s lip lifted.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh like this.” The partial smile disappeared. “I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh since…”

  I didn’t want him to finish that sentence.

  “How many could you create at once? Bigger maybe. Can you control them or do they just do what they want?” My eyes widened as possibilities flashed through my mind. “Oh, you could create a massive golem army to slay all my enemies!”

  He shook his head, the smile back on his lips. “Where your mind immediately goes worries me.”

  The idea of a dirt army sparked my memory.

  “Who, or what, are the Unseelie?” I asked. “And don’t say our enemy or anything. That’s vague and not helpful.”

  “The Unseelie are our twin Fae in a way. In the beginning, we were one. United.”

  “What happened?”

  “What always happens. A disagreement that led to war.”

  “Must have been a pretty big disagreement to sever your people in two.”

  “Our people. Either you choose to be one of us and rule, or you choose to side with humanity and serve.”

  Side with humanity? What did that even mean? I decided not to ask, fearing it would lead the conversation away from the Unseelie.

  “So, what was this big disagreement?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted again. “Who should rule.”

  I choked out a laugh. “Worried we are going to divide down the middle again because of me?”

  “You said we. Progress.”

  “Yeah, I’m a work in progress. Get back to the story.”

  “It’s not a story. It’s history.”

  “Hi-STORY. It’s even in the word.”

  He stared at me, no amusement in his face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

  “Just don’t chop me into pieces and hide me in a closet.”

  His mouth dropped. “What the everliving hell, Morgan? Where do you get this stuff?”

  “Horror movies.”

  Stuff. That didn’t sound like a word an uppity Fae would say. It was more like something I would say.

  Either I was rubbing off on him—which, scary thought—or it was another example of him being out of the character he wanted me to believe he was. Scarier thought. What was he hiding? And why?

  “So, big showdown between two sides. Continue.”

  “We were divided. Our queens had betrayed our king, leaving the throne contested and up for grabs.”

  Up for grabs… another one.

  “You sound like you were there.”

  He chuckled. “Before my time. Way before my time.”

  “Wait, queens? How many wives did this dude have?”

  “Two. And they were less wives and more…”

  “Equals?”

  His face darkened. “No. Not in the least.”

  “Well, that’s a tad sexist. What made him so great?”

  “He created them, and they created the Fae. You can’t be on the same plane as your creator.”

  “I don’t know. He made two people; they made an entire race of people. I’d say they’ve got one up on him.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you.”

  “Because I’m right.”

  He pursed his lips like he was struggling to contain his next words. “Regardless, the king was dead and the Fae splintered into two factions. Those who followed Mab, and those who followed Titania. As they were both traitorous cun—”

  “Wait.” I held up my hand. “Titania and Mab? I’ve heard those names before.”

  “That’s not surprising all things considered.”

  “No, not here. Back home.”

  “Again, not so surprising. The Fae have meddled in human affairs for a millennia.”

  “The Fae are assholes.”

  “You realize that includes you as well.”

  “Never said I wasn’t an asshole.” I smiled sweetly. I’d never admit how much I enjoyed this banter. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

  “So what was the king’s name?”

  “Oberon.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Never heard about that one. Another point in favor for the queens.”

  He mumbled something under his breath I couldn’t catch. “If you keep interrupting, we’ll be here for days.”

  “Hate my company that much?”

  “Enjoy mine that much?”

  “Better than being alone. Usually.”

  “So, who won?” I asked.

  “The Seelie, for the most part. Mab executed Titania in a public display and—”

  “We descend from Mab?”

  “No, Titania.”

  “But you just said—”

  “If you’d let me finish. Titania’s death spurred on her kin, especially those of her direct bloodline.”

  “My bloodline,” I said, figuring it out before he said it.

  “Yes. Their magic—your magic—banished the Unseelie from our land and kept them out.”

  “And Mab?”

  “Your ancestors used her blood to fuel their original spell.” He smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “All of it.”

  “Well, that’s terrifying. And makes humans look like friendly puppy dogs in comparison.”

  “If you really believe that, you don’t know your human history very well.”

  “I’m a product of the public school system.”

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it.

  “So, the magic that originally banished them, that keeps them out, is in me, and only me, now?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what happens if it fails, and they get in?”

  “Just as Titania’s death fueled the Seelie’s rage, so has banishment for thousands of years has multiplied the fury of the Unseelie.”

  “Scary. Has anyone tried to talk to them?”

  “Uh.”

  “All those responsible for the original schism are dead. Long dead, I assume. So, why not put the hate and death and banishment to rest with them? If they are like us, if we are all one people before, they can’t be monsters. No more than we are.”

  “That’s… an interesting take. No one will agree with you.”

  “I wasn’t going to ask for permission.”

  Fear tinged his eyes. “They would kill you on the spot. And I don’t mean the Seelie. The Unseelie will. You are all that stands between them and retribution.”

  “If they knew I was me. If they didn’t…”

  “How exactly would you parlay with the Unseelie as a nobody?”

  “Isn’t parlay only a pirate term?” I straightened, a tad excited. “Do you have pirates here?”

  “Not the kind you’re thinking of.”

  “So, how many humans have you screwed with?” I was one hundred percent certain he’d spent time in the mortal realm. A lot of it, maybe.

  “Pardon?”

  “Never mind. A joke.”

  He gave me a funny look. “Speaking of screwing…”

  I gave him an alarmed look.

  “Of the up variety, we should discuss what happened with the nobles last time. You’ll have to address them again and a repeat of last time wouldn’t be wise.”

  “Oh, you’ll actually let me handle it this time?”

  “Yes, against my better judgement. You won’t improve in dealing with them without learning from your failures. And you have to fail first in order to do so.”

  I scoffed. “You assume I’ll keep failing.”

  “Oh, my sweet, naive queen. I know you will.”

  Ire rose in my throat. “And you’ll be there to save me from inducing mutiny, I assume.”

  “I’m pretty sure mutiny only happens on boats, not castles. And yes, I will. You should be thanking me for having your back rather than pouting.”

  “You made me look weak in front of everyone. How am I supposed to—”

  “You are weak.”

&
nbsp; “Screw you.”

  “For what? Saying the truth? Living in delusion is not going to help you.”

  “I’m not. I might be weak, but appearing weak is something else entirely.”

  “No one believes you’re weak because you appear that way. They simply know you are. Bravado just makes you look foolish. And the last thing you want to look is foolish if you ever want to be taken seriously.”

  “I don’t need your advice. Or your help.”

  “If you won’t accept mine, so be it. Find someone you can trust. You won’t survive this on your own.”

  “Trust? Everyone wants to use me for something here, for their own gain. Trust is far more foolish than bravado.”

  “Surely you trust Aidan. He’s been at your side for years.”

  I swallowed. I didn’t trust Aidan. How could I? He’d lied to me for years. He disappeared when I needed him.

  The worry that the only reason he’d stayed was because of my brother’s orders hadn’t disappeared. If anything, it’d grown stronger.

  It was the best explanation for his continued rejection.

  “I do, but he isn’t like the rest of you.”

  Eoin tilted his head to the side, looking momentarily perplexed. “He is far more like the rest of us than like you. For you, he’s been a part of your life for half of it. For him, you’re only a blip in his long lived life.”

  “How old is he? How old are you for that matter.”

  Eoin smiled. “That’s a rude question to ask.”

  “Rude or not, I know nothing about you. And apparently I know nothing about Aidan, either. Why should I trust any of you again?”

  “I’ve already told you why. Over and over again. I will not keep repeating myself.”

  He reached over and touched my cheek. I froze. Eoin had already shown he had no concept of personal boundaries, and he’d had no qualms about touching me without permission.

  I hadn’t said anything before. I’m not even sure why I hadn’t. Most people who got handsy got at least a tongue lashing. And if that didn’t work, well, I’d spent four years in Karate.

  My roundhouse kicks were quite impressive.

  But with Eoin, my tongue remained silent. It wasn’t even as if I enjoyed the touching. I really didn’t. Most of the time, at least.

  Magic? Was everything that happened here that was out of the norm for me magic? Or was I just looking for an excuse?