Diadem

by Kate Kelley

  Vale laughed. “Sister, you are really a sorry excuse for a diplomat.” She turned to Terrin and Lyra, clasping her hands. “Our army needs time to prepare and gather themselves. They train about an hour south.”

  Terrin nodded, the irritation fading. “Then we’ll leave in two hours.”

  Vale shook her head. “We don’t follow such asinine limitations such as schedules as you humans do. They’ll take the time they need to get everything done properly. We’ll leave tomorrow morning, first thing. We could transport ourselves if you need to move on, but it will be much faster with your little halfling.”

  Terrin’s jaw moved to the side and he kept his voice calm even as steel laced it. “You gave us your word--”

  “Which we will uphold. Tomorrow morning,” Zuri said, her voice a touch louder than before, her dark eyes daring.

  Frey clutched Lyra and Terrin’s arms, steering them away from the throne. “Terrin, calm down. You have no choice but to abide by their rules. You are at their mercy here.”

  Terrin sniffed, his nostrils flaring and his jaw tightening. “If Edwin attacks my kingdom and I’m not there to defend it again, the pendant is off the table,” Terrin’s voice rolled over the room as he directed his gaze to Zuri.

  Zuri leveled her own gaze at him, pulling him in, examining him. “If that happens, I won’t touch your woman’s pendant,” she said with a smile.

  Lyra choked on her spit. “I’m not his--! I’m the royal ambassador!”

  Frey grabbed her arm and bowed to Zuri before pulling her out of the door. Her smile was tight, and more of a grimace than anything portraying happiness. Once they were out of the throne room, Frey put her hands on her hips and rounded on them. “The first rule is don’t make an enemy of the Fae, especially the royal Fae. Fae aren’t evil creatures, but they never forget a slight.”

  Lyra gave her a look, “You aren’t exactly Miss Respectful.”

  Frey grinned. “I’m Fae. You two are humans--”

  “Half,” Lyra quipped.

  Frey rolled her eyes. “They’ll tolerate a little insolence from me, but not from the likes of your kind.”

  Terrin grunted. “I meant what I said about the pendant. They can take Ursa whenever they want. No one can stop them now that they can freely transport through the portal themselves. But the pendant, that belongs to us.”

  “To me,” Lyra reminded him. “It belongs to me.”

  Terrin sighed. “Can I speak to a member of the Fae army? A general? I’d like to go over some things. Perhaps even a trade leader. I could establish a trade alliance now--”

  “Lyra wasn’t kidding,” Frey said as she stared at him.

  Terrin paused. His eyes flicked to Lyra. “About what?”

  Frey snorted and tugged the short strands of Terrin’s beard. “You really don’t allow yourself pleasure.”

  Terrin smoothed down his beard and scowled at the small Fae woman. “You haven’t heard about my harem then.”

  Frey’s eyebrows reached her hairline and she turned to Lyra.

  “Don’t look at me, I know nothing of it.” Lyra heated. What the hell…?

  Terrin grinned at her like a wolf who’d spotted dinner. “Don’t you?”

  Frey held up a finger. “Wait a minute, I need details.”

  Something sparked in Terrin’s eye and he moved his gaze slowly over Lyra’s body. “Lyra’s one of my special ladies. It’s how we met. She does this particularly titillating move where she puts her tongue--”

  “Don’t listen to this arsehole. He’s lying through his teeth. He’s just dreaming out loud,” Lyra barked as she began to walk away with jelly for knees.

  Terrin chuckled behind her and Frey smiled appreciatively at him, her eyes sliding over him as if seeing him anew. “I knew there was something I liked about you, and it wasn’t just the physique,” she said, her voice taking on a husky tone.

  Terrin winked at her. Lyra bit the sides of her tongue to keep herself from making a remark at Frey. First her brother, now Terrin. The woman was ambitious.

  Maybe she’d bed every human male she encountered.

  They followed Frey through the tree palace until they were winding up the staircase, up and up until it seemed like it would never end. Finally, they reached a narrow staircase that lead to an attic with a single, short ladder beneath a ceiling window that was propped open.

  Frey went up first, pushing the window open further until it squeaked in protest and she could wiggle her body through it.

  Lyra glanced at Terrin. “I don’t think you’re going to fit.”

  He scowled and clambered up, angling his shoulders one at a time to fit through the square opening. His chest scraped two diagonal corners of the window frame as he pulled himself up. When Lyra climbed up, Terrin wordlessly grabbed her under her arms and lifted her out. Frey kicked the window shut with a bang while Lyra and Terrin surveyed their surroundings.

  The wind caught Lyra’s hair softly as she held onto a thick tree branch, the bark rough under her palm. She could see the tops of the entire forest, radiant green as far as the eye could see. A woodpecker pecked on the branch she rested her hand on, the staccato thumping rattling her hand and through her limb.

  “This is a palace all its own,” Lyra said softly. The leaves rustled loudly like shuffling paper, the sound intimate, like a secret only being that high up in a tree could reveal.

  “Impressive,” Terrin remarked, hands on his hips. He sat down on the flat wooden roof, his arms draped over his knees.

  Frey slithered her way up a branch, her feet finding notches in the bark that Lyra couldn’t even see. She sat atop a thin branch and it groaned under her slight weight. If it snapped, she would only fall ten feet to the top of the roof. Lyra didn’t want to get to close to the edge to see how far up they were from the actual ground. Water and heights, her two weaknesses. She glanced at Terrin, whose gaze caught hers. And a third weakness...

  Frey ran her fingers over the branch she sat on, her fingertips dipping into the grooves of the bark. “The Fae lived all over on the earth. In most forests, we built houses like these in the trees. Ganymede started banishing the Fae five hundred years ago, killing many as well. You know that part. I’m only fifty years old, so all I’ve known is this world, this forest. Our numbers have dwindled by half, and the other magical folk here--the trolls, sirens, giants, nymphs, shifters, what have you--they all are on the defense, but they take it out on the wrong thing. They should be coming together to figure out how to defeat Ganymede, but they fight with other species, other clans. For that reason, Eclipsa is always unsettled, danger always lurks. The older Fae talk about earth, how before, there was an understanding between clans and species. There were fights, but nothing on a large scale. Not until the mages got themselves involved.” Frey’s eyes darkened and she chewed her thumbnail.

  “How do you feel about retaking Ursa? Will you fight?” Lyra asked, shielding her eyes with her hand as she peered up at Frey.

  “To be sure,” she said, shrugging. “I have nothing else going for me. My family wants nothing to do with me anymore. And I’m a fighter. I might as well join the army permanently.” She fiddled with a stud in her upper ear cartilage.

  “What about Tornasuuk?” Lyra asked quietly. “What will happen if he makes an appearance during the fight?”

  Frey stared at something in the distant trees. “Then we fight him, and kill him.”

  “Gods can’t touch down on earth,” Terrin said dismissively.

  “Lesser gods might,” Frey retorted. She shrugged. “A polar bear man, what’s so frightening about that? If it bleeds, I can kill it.”

  Lyra watched her, hoping to be as brave and confident as she someday. “Navi is an adlet, by the way.”

  Frey smiled. “I heard. Well, that hardly matters unless Terrin has an aversion to love bites.”

  Lyra laughed loudly, having made a similar joke before. Terrin’s smiled sardonically before he snapped his jaws at Lyra’s throat and sh
e scooted away from him with a squeal.

  “I’m already a beast. It doesn’t bother me,” he said with a chuckle as he leaned back. Lyra wanted to ask if he minded that Navi locked Poppi in a tower to die, too, or was he really that far gone?

  Frey jumped down, her feet sticking solidly, then ran to the edge. Lyra thought she might jump off, but she stopped two inches before the hedge of the roof, her body tense. Terrin stood up slowly.

  Lyra jumped to her feet and stopped a few feet behind Frey. “What’s happening?”

  Frey cupped her hands around her mouth. “Seamus Fern, you bloody arsehole! Prepare to fight to the death!”

  Lyra flinched backward when Frey vanished and a blue twinkle, barely perceptible in the daylight, took her place. The twinkle zipped downward.

  Terrin sidled up to her right. “I don’t know that I’d like you to be able to shrink to that size. I’d find you lurking in my bedroom like a fly on the wall.”

  “Only to stick things up your nose as you slept,” she quipped.

  Terrin snorted. They watched Frey return to normal size on the ground, though she was still quite small from their distance. A man with long blonde hair that swept to his waist dodged Frey’s kick easily, grabbing for her foot, then missing. Frey pulled a dagger out of her belt. Lyra backed up, vertigo striking her from accidentally swaying too far forward.

  Terrin grabbed the back of her vest, straightening her. “Let’s go back down and help."

  They burst from the front door a good ten minutes later. Frey was straddling the blonde Fae man, breathing heavily, her hands around his throat. Her dagger was laying in the grass ten feet away.

  “Frey!” Lyra yelled, jogging to close the distance between them. “What are you doing?”

  Frey squeezed tighter, a blue light escaping her hands. The man’s face turned purple, but his glare didn’t leave Frey’s face. His hands hung limp at his sides.

  “Frey! You’re killing him!” Lyra screamed.

  “What is wrong with humans that they can’t keep their bloody noses out of other people’s business?” Frey grumbled loudly, then let go and stood. The Fae man swept up as though he hadn’t been close to death, a small smile on his face. Terrin stepped in closer, a silent threat.

  The Fae man’s gaze slid to Terrin, his face and body stoic. When he saw Terrin’s ears, his eyebrows dipped and his jaw slackened. “Why are humans here?” he asked Frey.

  “Why are you here, Seamus? I told you if I saw you again, I’d kill you.”

  “I’m Lyra and this is Terrin,” Lyra said to him, trying to dissipate the malice thick in the air. His gaze settled on her, dipped to her chest, then back up to her face. “What are you?”

  “Half Fae, half human. Lubena’s great, great grandaughter,” Lyra replied.

  Seamus’ eyebrows rose and his gaze swept her again, slower this time. “I’m Seamus.”

  “Why does Frey want you dead?” Terrin asked him, stepping in front of Lyra. Lyra moved away from Terrin’s shadow so she could see Seamus.

  “He’s the reason I don’t have a home anymore,” Frey said through clenched teeth.

  Seamus smirked sardonically. “You don’t think stealing from your father had a hand in that?”

  Frey’s face and aura flashed guilt.“You betrayed me.” She stepped closer, her body tense and unafraid, even though she was over a foot shorter than Seamus.

  “I’m loyal first to your father,” Seamus said darkly.

  “You don’t know anything...you don’t understand shite about why I did what I did.” Frey’s golden eyes sparked and wavered and Lyra thought she might cry.

  “To make easy money? To impress those better than you? Maybe even shag some rich lords, possibly snag one into marriage--”

  Frey lunged at him, and he sidestepped it, chuckling darkly.

  “You know I’m not like that--” she bit out.

  Seamus caught the fist she threw at him, and twisted her around, holding her tightly. He leaned his mouth to her ear. “You’re a leech. A little spoiled brat--”

  “He was going to marry me off!” Frey cried, her voice guttural. She stomped on his foot and he let her go and she stumbled back. “Like prized cattle for a business deal,” she added, her jaw barely moving. Her chest heaved and Lyra had the sense it had more to do with her admission than with the physical activity.

  Seamus crossed his arms. “Plenty of women are married off and are happy with their arrangements.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone,” Frey said darkly, her hand back on the hilt of her remaining dagger. Her golden eyes sparked.

  Seamus smirked. “Who was the unlucky man?”

  Frey retrieved her other dagger from the ground and sheathed it before facing him resolutely. “You.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Frey didn’t stop to see the look of shock on Seamus’ face but Lyra felt the satisfaction pulsing from her aura as she stalked off. She must have felt his shock. Lyra inclined her head at Seamus who blinked in return, before she followed Frey across the field.

  “Well, that wasn’t dramatic at all,” Lyra remarked sarcastically. The joke didn’t land. Frey’s small mouth remained a solemn line as she stared straight ahead.

  Lyra glanced back at Terrin for help, but he wasn’t there. She stopped, spotting him far behind in deep discussion with Seamus. Their stances were matched, arms crossed, but no malice shown on their faces. In fact, they appeared to be getting along. After a few more minutes, Seamus laughed and nodded and the two separated.

  “What were you talking to him about?” she asked him when he caught up with her. To her surprise, he answered her.

  “Business deals. Frey’s father owns the rum industry here, but Seamus owns another up and coming rum industry. Frey’s father mentors him, but lately Seamus has noticed him hinting at buying him out.”

  “Which Seamus certainly turned down,” Lyra guessed.

  Terrin nodded. “After what Frey just said, Seamus is thinking he was going to offer his daughter in exchange for his establishment.”

  Lyra shook her head. “Not that I don’t think Frey is a catch, but I don’t understand why her father would expect Seamus to accept that deal.”

  Terrin shook his head. “There must be a reason. But he didn’t elaborate.”

  “So what did you offer him?” Lyra asked.

  “I told him I’d make him a permanent partner of mine if he settled his rum business in Gem. He’d make more money there with me buying his rum for the castle’s stores than here, being under the shadow of Frey’s father.”

  “Did he agree? He didn’t seem keen on humans.”

  “That wasn’t the part that unsettled him.”

  Lyra quirked an eyebrow at him as they entered the Fae dining hall. “What part upset him?”

  Terrin shrugged. “I told him he had to name Frey as co-founder and split his salary with her.”

  Lyra’s heart tugged. She watched him as he casually pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to sit.

  This is why I love this man. The thought escaped her head before she could snap it back and she blushed at her own thought. Joy bubbled inside at her admission, at letting her soul feel what it needed to feel. She suddenly remembered her death, or near death. She had told him she loved him then, hadn’t she? But she hadn’t been able to get the words out. And still they were stuck in her soul.

  “What?” he asked softly, his face relaxing. The dining hall was loud, boisterous laughter and cajoling filling the wide space. She met his familiar eyes. “Did he agree to the terms?”

  Terrin nodded once, grinning. “He did.”

  Lyra smiled and threw herself at him, standing on her tiptoes and hugging him tightly around the neck. Terrin caught her, though his body tensed. He looked down at her. “What did I do?” he asked, confusion on his brow.

  “You care about people. You’re always looking out for the downtrodden and the marginalized. You--”

  Terrin placed a finger over her lips,
silencing her. His eyes tightened in the corners and he averted his eyes. “Don’t make me out to be someone I’m not. I’m not a good man, and never claimed to be.” He clutched her arms and set her aside, leaving Lyra to swallow her embarrassment as she took her seat at the table.

  And this is why I hate him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They spent the rest of the day training, Lyra having promised Iris that she would train with Frey. Frey had let her borrow a pair of her trousers, though they fit tighter and exposed more skin than they did on little Frey.

  They practiced in the clearing, where other Fae gathered occasionally to watch. Most smiled at Lyra like she was a child when they watched her fight. She tried to ignore them. They didn’t watch for long, bustling off on some other endeavor. Frey focused on getting Lyra to control her bursts, changing their shape into weapons as she did against the nymphs and the troll. It was one thing to make it happen when she was under duress and being directly threatened, but quite another when she knew the threat wasn’t real. When Terrin finally joined in, and she was trapped on two sides, only then did her magic cooperate and form into shards, narrowly missing Terrin’s head.

  They switched to hand to hand combat after that, working on precise moves and how to fight off two people at once, then ended with weapon training, using the small knife she had gotten from the alley thief. Lyra’s back was sore from landing on it too many times to count by the time the pearly crescent moon shimmered into existence in the pale violet sky. She dragged her tunic across her forehead to wipe the sweat off, having had taken it off sometime during the day. Her chemise, tucked into her trousers, had thin straps and clung to her, but the Fae didn’t seem to care a whit. Surely, if they dance topless, they wouldn’t give a second glance at her undergarment.

  “Does it ever change seasons here?” Lyra asked. Crickets chirped and bats flapped their leathery wings across the early moonlit sky as servants began lighting bonfires and Fae seemed to gravitate to them.