by Unknown
Something about my question made Grant uncomfortable. I should’ve known then that nothing was as it appeared, but true to my nature, I shrugged off my doubt and forged ahead.
“The Head of the Council, although decided by heredity, is not decided by hierarchy, but a set of trials or tests.”
Jax, who had been quietly listening, chose that moment to speak up. “Tests? What kind of tests?”
“Nothing Phoebe can’t handle. I’m not privy to the specifics. Those will be explained by the Magistrate.”
I knew Jax was about to cause a scene, so in order to maintain peace, I laid my hand on his arm and squeezed as hard as I could. There was no way I was going to survive fifteen hours trapped in a jet high in the sky with a brooding retired marine and pissed off, arrogant attorney. Thankfully, he took my hint, but remained at the ready.
“Will you be present while each party presents testimony?”
“Yes, I will be the Magistrate’s legal counsel.”
“Will I have legal counsel?”
“No, only the Magistrate.”
Sitting back, I tried to relax. I had other questions, but based on the answers I’d gotten from Grant they would have to wait to be answered by the Magistrate. Patience was not a virtue I had ever attained, nor did I aspire to have, but in this case, I had little choice.
Dinner was served promptly at seven and had obviously been prepared by a five star chef. I hadn’t seen a kitchen and couldn’t imagine there was room for one, but nonetheless, I savored every bite of filet mignon, roasted red potatoes, and grilled asparagus.
(When in Rome…)
After the dishes had been cleared, Grant hit a few buttons in his armrest. A large screen appeared at the far end of the cabin and Iron Man 3 roared to life. I knew Jax would watch every minute, including the credits, even though we’d already seen it four times. There were parts I could actually recite. Now, I’m a huge RDJ fan, but having not slept the night before, I decided it was time for a nap.
Before I had my chair completely reclined, Stephanie appeared with a pillow and blanket. She helped me adjust the temperature and massage before disappearing without a trace. (The girl was a damned magician, I tell ya.) I fell asleep before Tony Starke’s house exploded and slept until Jax was shaking me awake and telling me breakfast was in ten minutes. I had slept twelve full hours for the first time since before I started law school.
“There’s a bathroom behind the screen,” my friend pointed towards the back of the plane.
“Thanks. Guess I was tired.”
“No shit. I even checked to make sure you were breathing a couple of times. You were zonked,” he laughed.
“Yeah, well at least I don’t snore.”
“That’s what you think,” he chuckled as I grabbed my carry on and headed to the bathroom.
One look in the mirror and I was glad to have avoided Grant. (Not that I’m vain or anything, but let’s face it, no one looks good with bed head.) Brushing out my waist-length curls and French braiding them, helped my appearance almost as much as washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting on some fresh mascara and lip-gloss. I changed into a clean sweater and pair of jeans, exiting the bathroom just as breakfast was being served.
It was another spectacular meal and the rest of the trip was thankfully uneventful. I read, Jax napped, and Grant fiddled around in his briefcase, which was a perfect complement to the portfolio he had been carrying when I first met him. (So sue me. I notice these things.)
Needless to say, we were all happy to hear the captain announce that we needed to put our chairs in the upright position and make sure our seatbelts were secure. The landing was without incident and within half an hour, we were in another black limo heading towards Castle O’Byrne, the sister I’d never met, and six people that wanted to declare me unfit. (Woohoo! Let the party begin.)
I spent the entire drive looking out the window and deep breathing. Jax’s hand holding mine was the only thing that kept me from completely losing my mind. My apprehension at what I was walking into increased exponentially the closer we got to our destination. When we pulled up and stopped in front of a set of the biggest iron gates I’d ever seen, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
“You need to calm down. Go to your happy place. If you’re this freaked and you haven’t even seen these people, you’re gonna have stroke once we’re inside,” Jax whispered.
“You have absolutely nothing to worry about, Phoebe. These proceedings are perfectly civilized. No matter the outcome, it’s all an exercise in rituals and tradition.”
I know it’s not rational, but Grant’s words helped. Hell, just the sound of his voice helped. As those huge iron gates clanged shut behind us, I decided to make the best of an awkward situation. I mean, how bad could it be? (Imagine Carrie on a date with Jason on the Titanic, and you will begin to see where this all went so horribly wrong.)
The castle was everything I’d ever imagined a castle would be. There were crystal chandeliers, white marble floors, mahogany crown molding, and winding staircases just perfect for elegant entrances to lavish parties. The man showing us to our suite gave a brief history as we walked.
“There are a total seventy-five bedrooms including 15 master suites, eighty bathrooms, fourteen formal sitting rooms, six formal dining rooms, three full service kitchens, two billiard rooms…”
I admit I spaced out. It was just too much to absorb at one time. So, I have no idea how many of everything else there was. However, I can tell you now, in retrospect, I wished I’d stayed alert to hear about the one dungeon I was thrown into. But once again, I have gotten ahead of myself.
After a long hot shower and a walk around the flowering gardens (More than one garden too. No idea how many), dinner was served in our suite. Grant had been on the phone almost nonstop since we’d arrived. He even took a call during dinner. When he returned to the table, his brow was furrowed and he was frowning like a man with a dilemma.
“Bad news?” I asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle. Last minute changes is all. I have a meeting with the Magistrate in thirty minutes. We’ll talk when I return.” He answered his phone yet again, waved goodbye, and exited before I could get a word in.
“Well, I guess that leaves us to our own devices? I think we should stay in and watch TV,” Jax suggested.
“Sounds good to me. I might’ve slept all the way here, but I’m still beat. Maybe it’s jet lag.”
“Might be. Go put your pj’s on and I’ll find us something to watch.”
“Be right back,” I called over my shoulder.
When I returned, all the remnants of dinner had been cleared away and the bum was kicked back on the couch with an enormous bowl of popcorn, two sodas, and a bag of Milk Duds. It was just like the time we saved our allowances for six whole weeks so we could see the premiere of Finding Nemo. Sure, I was twelve at the time, but it was still one of my best memories.
Taking my place on the couch, Jax hit play on the remote and we spent the next two hours saving the world with the Transformers. I didn’t think about where we were or who I was going to meet or what people wanted to take from me. Just enjoyed the movie and hanging out with the one person I called family. It was a great night.
I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow and don’t think I moved until the chambermaid (Yeah, they still have those) woke me at eight am. We followed pretty much the same protocol as the night before, except Grant didn’t show for breakfast. Instead, he called and said he would be by in thirty minutes. He added that the Magistrate and Helena would be with him.
Jax put on his button down and I dressed in my favorite ivory silk pantsuit. It was my most expensive outfit. Pretty much the only one I owned with a designer label. I hated to admit it, but I always felt like a million bucks in it and I needed all the help I could get. I was looking forward to meeting the sister I didn’t know I had, but the little voice in my head said some things were better left as they were.
It r
eally didn’t matter. I had come this far and it had to be done. Thankfully, there was no time for second thoughts as Grant walked in just as I was spritzing on my perfume.
“Helena and Magistrate Willburn are waiting in the library,” he announced before asking, “Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I quipped, grabbing my clutch. I know it seemed weird, but it was not my house and I had to have something to hold in my hands. It was one of the ways I hid my anxiety.
When no one answered, I looked to find both men gaping at me. “What’s wrong? Did I get something on this outfit already?” I asked as I twisted and turned in every imaginable direction to find the stain.
When I found nothing, I looked up again. Grant and Jax were watching my every move, grinning from ear to ear.
“What?” I snarled. It was bad enough that I was nervous, but the two stooges were not helping at all.
“Nothing,” they answered in unison.
Jax chuckled as Grant further explained. “There is nothing on your suit. As a matter of fact, you look stunning.”
“Yeah, Phoebs, you clean up nice. It’s the first thing me and the stuffed shirt actually agree on.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “You two suck. I thought I had ruined my favorite outfit.” Walking past them, I grabbed the doorknob and headed into the hall. “You guys coming? Time’s wasting,” I teased as I crossed the threshold.
Almost faster than I could track, I had Grant on one arm and Jax on the other. We walked arm in arm down one hall after another, twisting and turning for what felt like a good quarter mile, until the attorney finally said, “We’re almost there.”
Those three words wiped the smile from my face, caused my pulse to race, and stole the breath from my lungs. Until that very moment, somewhere in my brain I thought that nothing I had learned since meeting Grant was really real. My coping mechanism, I guess. I figured I was on a very elaborate episode of Punk’d, and eventually, Ashton Kutcher would jump out and all of my angst would’ve been for nothing. That, however, was not the case. All the BS was real and I was seconds from meeting my half-sister.
Grant walked a few paces ahead of Jax and I, opened the door to the library, and motioned for us to go in. I heard the door shut behind me, but to be honest, the next few seconds were a blur. Sitting at the largest desk I’d ever seen was a smallish man with huge brown eyes, behind even bigger, round-framed glasses with lenses the thickness of the bottom of coke bottles. His gray hair stood out in tuffs on both sides of his head, while his fingers drummed on the desktop and his eyes shifted from side to side as he was taking in every moment of absolutely everything before him.
A warm hand touched the small of my back at the same time Grant appeared at my side. “Shoulders back, head up, it’s time to impress,” the attorney whispered, coaxing me forward.
“Magistrate Willburn, it is my pleasure to introduce Princess Phoebe O’Byrne.” For the life of me, I had no clue why he called me a princess, but I knew it wasn’t the time to ask. He stopped us a few feet from the desk.
The longer I watched Willburn watching me, the more obvious his resemblance to an owl became. So much so, that it took all my restraint not to ask… “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pop?”
As luck would have it, movement from the corner of the room drew my attention away from the Magistrate before I could make a fool of myself. But that was as far as luck got me. What I saw emerging from that corner can only be described as frighteningly beautiful.
The woman gliding toward us had to be at least six foot two, and if she weighed more than a hundred and thirty pounds, I’ll kiss your butt in Macy’s window. (Which of course made me hate her on general principle.) However, it was the contrast of her stark white skin surrounded by long, straight hair so black it shined with midnight blue highlights that gave her an ominous vibe. She wore thick bangs that touched her severely thin, dark eyebrows, which sat atop dark, beady eyes, I was sure, missed absolutely nothing. When they landed on me a chill skittered up my spine.
Her long, thin nose was scrunched with her immediate dislike of me, while her blood red lips were pursed so tightly I wondered if she might be in pain. The skin-tight, floor-length black sequined sheath she wore had a high collar adorned with feathers that covered every inch of her neck. The sleeves were so long that only her skeletal fingers and deep red, pointy nails could be seen. Her left leg made an appearance with every other step she took through the slit that ran from the floor to high on her thigh. I was shocked to see she was barefooted, but not surprised at all to see that her toenails were polished to match her fingernails and lips.
“May I present Princess Helena O’Byrne,” the Magistrate announced in a low willowy voice that reminded me of a breeze through the trees. (Well, hell, this is my half-sister. Guess I can forget a teary reunion followed by girl talk and hair braiding.)
I nodded in Helena’s direction, for which I received a haughty ‘pfft’ and a look even farther down her rail of a nose. I was already ready to throw in the towel, pack it up, and head home. All my good sense and the voice in my head were screaming this was a bitch I did not want to tangle with.
Grant pushed his hand a little farther into my back. I felt him trying to comfort me and will admit, it was a weird feeling, but one I didn’t have time to examine. Apparently, also feeling my reticence at the situation, Jax, who until then had remained at the back of the room, appeared at my side. He grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine, giving me three quick squeezes. It had been our signal as children. An unspoken ‘I’m right here.’
“Now, if everyone will please be seated, we can begin,” the Magistrate instructed. “Princess Phoebe, is…” He looked Jax up and down. “…this man to remain with you?”
I wasn’t sure what Willburn was implying so I simply nodded, then added, “Yes, sir.”
Helena scoffed under her breath as if I’d made some grave error in conduct. Grant shook his head as if to say ‘Ignore her’, so I did.
When everyone was seated, the Magistrate began. “We are here today as a preamble to the hearing for the dissolution of birthrights for the descendants of Magdelina Margaret O’Byrne. There are a few points that must be discussed before we can proceed. Let me first apologize to you, Princess Phoebe, for the indelicate manner in which the first point must be handled. It is not our way but your situation is unusual to say the least.”
Willburn paused and stood. I took the opportunity to speak, not knowing if it was proper or not and not really caring. “Pardon me, Magistrate, but may I ask why you keep referring to me as ‘Princess’?
Making his way toward us, he didn’t answer until he stood front and center of the large desk. “That is our first order of business. Your mother, Magdelina, was more than the Leader of our Council. She was the Queen of the E’in de Cleite Clan. A title she inherited from her mother and one either you or your sister may inherit based on merit, if you retain your birthright.”
He watched me as if I might freak out or sprout feathers, when all that was going through my head was, ‘Yeah, and…’ Just when I was about to speak, he began again.
“What I am about to tell you is going to come as a shock. I ask that you please be patient. Listen to everything I have to say. You will then be given an opportunity to ask any and all questions you may have.”
He waited for me to nod before continuing. “Our clan originated in the moors of Scotland in about 600AD; a haven for every species of E’in, or fowl if you will, to gather, where we could be true to our nature while escaping detection from humans. The matriarch of the O’Byrne family has always led our people. That is until your mother’s untimely death at the hands of hunters. Her death left us without an age appropriate successor until now. The Council has done their best for the last twenty-five years to provide guidance to our people. Now that both you and Helena are of age, we should be having the Trials of Leadership to crown our new Queen instead of this rid
iculous waste of time. Something I plan to remedy.” Willburn was obviously not behind the movement to remove Helena and me from leadership. (Good to know.)
After an action I can only describe as a fluffing of his feathers, although he had none, the odd little man continued. “Do you speak Gaelic, dear?”
“No, sir,” I answered slowly, shaking my head. Of course, Helena scoffed at that as well. (Bitch)
“Just as I suspected. Not a problem, I will explain in English. There is no easy way to say this, so I will just as they say ‘spit it out’. The name of our clan is ‘Birds of a Feather’. We are all aviary shifters. Different breeds and all shapes and sizes, but birds nonetheless. We all possess the ability to change from our human forms to that of a winged fowl. Your mother and her ancestors were the rarest of all. They were Phoenix. And we believe you, Princess Phoebe, are also a phoenix.”
I had no idea if I was supposed to laugh, cry, or run screaming from the building, so I did what I always did when faced with an incredible situation…. I waited. I felt Jax fidgeting beside me and knew he was itching to yell ‘What the Hell?’ Grant was still as a statue and Helena looked like the cat that ate the canary, which was pretty ironic considering Willburn had just said she was the little birdie.
After a few tense moments, the Magistrate asked, “Do you have any questions so far, Princess?”
I snorted at the pure ridiculousness of his question and the fact that I was even entertaining what he’d said to be the truth. Deciding to play along to see where it was all going, I asked the first question that popped into my head, “You said you believed I was a phoenix like my mother, but what about Helena? Is she not one as well?”
“I am afraid not, dear. Helena favors her father’s lineage. She is raven.” He looked at my half-sister, who still wore the same sneer and look of absolute disdain for my very existence she’d had since I first laid eyes on her, and then back to me. “That is yet another reason the Council is seeking to remove your birthright. They feel that if there is a chance a raven will run the clan then every other breed should have the same opportunity.”