A cool, silent presence studied her. She stroked the length of the shard and more joints unfolded, as if following her touch.
For a third time, the hall hummed with noise.
The Queen’s head moved back fractionally. “Oh, you will be interesting.”
Branwyn flinched at the reminder. Then she smiled down at the Machine fragment. “Yes, I will.”
-eleven-
Branwyn stood outside her family home and looked at the construction of it. Her childhood memories were full of the constant sound of the remodeling and additions that her grandfather and first stepfather had collaborated on. It was a mixture of styles extended from the Victorian foundations. The porch was especially pleasant.
She wondered if the Queen of Stone was enjoying the view.
“When,” the Queen had asked, “will you be back in the mortal world?” And when Branwyn’s answer wasn’t “within half an hour,” that previously patient personage had taken steps.
It seemed the rules Branwyn had been taught didn’t apply to Faerie Queens. It was uncanny. Corbin had assured her that having her magic slots full was proof against being cursed by a celestial. Even Zachariah had required her to willingly step into a magic circle. But the Queen had just waved her hand once and poof, all Corbin’s hard work was stripped away.
And when her new Branwynvision wasn’t going to be tuned to an interesting channel soon enough for her tastes, she’d waved her hand again, and her gatekeeper had opened up another warp in the Backworld. “It will take you home,” the Queen had announced.
And so it had, although not the home she’d hoped for. Apparently her great-grandmother’s stories and memory, embedded in the blue and cream house, attracted all the fae portals. Or maybe she’d just sent Branwyn back to Underlight’s Earth entrance.
Slowly, Branwyn turned away. As had become usual when she couldn’t get a ride from Marley, she’d taken the bus here from her apartment so her car wouldn’t give her presence away to her family. She wanted to go home and take several showers, very badly. But making the walk to the nearest bus stop wasn’t something she was looking forward to.
“Hey!” called Howl from the front door. “How did you get past us?”
Us. Branwyn turned back again. Howl stood on the porch, scowling. A familiar but unanticipated figure stood beside him.
“Rhianna!” said Branwyn. “What are you doing here?”
Branwyn’s oldest younger sister came down the porch stairs, her dimples showing. “I had some unexpected time off from work, so I decided to visit. Turns out I’m just in time for a celebration. And so are you!” She hugged Branwyn, then pulled back, her nose wrinkling. “What have you been doing? Nevermind, tell me later. Jaimie’s band just got a new fan—hell, patron, really. They want to pay for a whole new album. Independently wealthy, too, not part of a corporate outfit.” She grinned. “There’s a party on.”
Too tired and puzzled to argue, Branwyn let Rhianna draw her up the porch stairs and into the house. Howl’s scowl never wavered, and she wondered what exactly he’d told their sister. Rhianna herself wouldn’t give anything away until she was ready to do so or until Branwyn had worked on her for some time.
The noise of her family in full celebration mode hit Branwyn like a physical blow as soon as she stepped into the house. Everybody was home except for her grandmother. Jaimie’s bandmates and a few of their friends practically doubled the noise. Branwyn’s mother, already excited for her husband’s good news, had been sent into delighted raptures by the impromptu visit of her second daughter from the other side of the country.
Branwyn did her best to take part in the festive atmosphere, but she was too aware of the Machine fragment she’d tucked into her pocket, and too aware of the silent observer inside her head, spying on her family’s happiness. And, although she hated to admit it, she was really tired.
Howl, she noticed, barely made an effort. He clapped Jaimie on the back and drank a celebratory root beer with the kids. Then he glowered in a kitchen chair until Branwyn was compelled to leave her three sisters talking music with Jaimie’s keyboardist.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, dropping into a chair beside him.
“I don’t want to have a party,” he said. “I want to find out if you’re all right, and I can’t tell.”
Branwyn didn’t blink, because she’d known her brother for nineteen years. “You could ask,” she said gently.
“That’s no good,” he said curtly. “You’d lie. You don’t look like you’re all right.”
“I’m tired. I’ve had a long few days. Uh, it’s only been a few days, right?”
“Yes. Have you slept at all since last time I saw you? What have you been doing? I know you went through the door again, and you didn’t come back out this time.”
“Yes, and I meant to ask, how do you know that?”
“I’m not going to tell you,” he said sullenly. “You’re keeping enough from me. Why won’t your dimensional portal work for me?”
“Did you try?” Branwyn rubbed her eyes and thought about splashing water on her face again.
“When you didn’t come back at all for a day? Yes!”
Branwyn narrowed her eyes. “Did Rhianna come back because of you?”
“I didn’t call her and tell on you, no. Although I would have today if she hadn't shown up on her own.” He’d been staring off into space throughout the conversation, but now he cast his gaze over to her. “What have you been doing?” His voice was pleading, reminding her of a little boy who desperately wanted to understand.
“I—” she began, and then she realized that the cool presence of the Machine fragment in her pocket was gone.
She looked across the living room to where Rhianna perched on a chair, head tilted as she listened to Brynn gush about her new girlfriend.
“I’ll get back to you,” she said, standing up.
He began to curse her bitterly, but she ignored him and stalked across the room. Rhianna looked up and met her gaze, eyes dancing.
“Excuse me, Brynn. I need to take Rhianna and have a little chat. No, you can’t come.” She reached down and pinched Rhianna’s earlobe. “Come along, little sister.”
Rhianna let Branwyn pull her to her feet, then pirouetted out of Branwyn’s grasp. Light-footed, she dashed upstairs, all the way up to Branwyn’s little attic door.
“Howl was sure you’d come out of this,” she said when Branwyn caught up with her. Rhianna was crouched down, examining the door. “I checked him for a fever but he fought back.” She stood up gracefully as Branwyn shut the outer door and tucked a red curl of hair behind her ear.
“Give it back,” Branwyn demanded.
Rhianna slipped her hand into the pocket of her grey slacks and pulled out the Machine shard. “This?” She turned it over. “What is it? Some kind of art multitool?”
Branwyn held out her hand imperiously. “What it is: not yours.”
Rhianna curved her fingers over it for a moment. “Oh, don’t be like that. You’re just provoking me.” But then she opened her hand and dropped it into Branwyn’s palm.
“Whatever possessed you to pick my pocket?” Branwyn demanded, inspecting the shard. It was exactly as it had been before. Then she peered at her sister, wondering if Rhianna had detected anything unusual about it. The sense of presence radiated by the shard was so strong.
Rhianna shrugged. “Howl and Brynn’s pockets were boring.” She smiled a self-satisfied grin.
“Why are you picking pockets at all?” Branwyn asked hopelessly. She knew that look. Rhianna liked her secrets too much. She asked another question anyway. “Why are you really here?”
“I said. Unexpected time off. Some kind of construction mix-up at the office.”
“The office.”
“Yup.” Rhianna stared at her with guileless green eyes.
Branwyn sighed and rubbed her eyes again. She remembered the day that Rhianna had come home from junior high and announced that she wanted to be
a spy when she grew up. The very next day, she’d changed her mind and announced she wanted to be an actress. She’d joined the drama club, and worked very hard. And then she’d gone to college on the East Coast, majored in political science, and been recruited out of college into… an office environment. Where she did things. Involving data. And talked brightly on phone calls home about her hopes for a foreign assignment someday.
“Have you taken a close look at Jaimie lately?” Rhianna inquired innocently. “He’s looking well. I’m glad he finally quit that grocery store job.”
Branwyn frowned. Then, with a horrible sense of realization, she activated her magical Sight and looked at Rhianna.
Every one of her nodes was filled with a softly glowing orb. Six of the seven contained featureless glowing circles, while the seventh, at her crown, had a pattern of eyes. She’d never seen a charm with imagery embedded in it before.
“And how do I look?” Branwyn asked.
Rhianna pursed her lips. “You look tired. And stinky. And like you’ve been getting into a lot of trouble. Are you going to tell me all about it?”
Branwyn gave her a wary look. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I have to think about it.” She hesitated, feeling the unaccustomed twinge of worry. “Did you get sent—er, come back to visit because of me?”
“Well, not just you—my goodness, Branwyn, so self-centered! I came back to see everyone. Plus, it’s great to see the place again. There’s always something exciting going on.”
Branwyn ground her teeth. “Rhianna, do you have to use your cute little spy-speak? We’re alone.”
Rhianna twinkled. “But why? This is so much fun, and I know you can work out what’s important.”
Branwyn released her frustration in an exasperated sigh. “What you think is important and what I think is important are probably not the same thing.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I have to think about it,” Rhianna quoted Branwyn from before. Then she clasped Branwyn’s hand. “It’s okay, though. I’m just here to hang out for a while. Well, and maybe stick some pins in that big head of yours.”
Branwyn hugged her sister, then said, “I have to get home and get cleaned up. I can’t think straight until I get some sleep.”
“You do that. I’ll take over the Howl-needling.” Rhianna grinned. “He’s missed me so much!”
Branwyn went back downstairs, hoping that Tarn was smart enough not to let Rhianna into his realm. She peeked back into the main room to say goodbye to her mother, then paused, arrested by the sheer number of people in the room and all the nexuses and vertices of the Geometry manifesting in them.
As she tried to process what she was seeing, her mother came over to her. “You look like you want to leave already. Jaimie’s new producer is supposed to be dropping by later, you know.”
“I’ve been working hard, Mom. I feel like a zombie. The new producer shows up, I’ll probably eat her brains. That would make everybody sad.”
Her mother looked Branwyn up and down. “Ready to talk about your new project yet? We’ve all been pretty curious.”
“Not yet. But when I’m done, believe me, you’ll hear all about it. Hey, can you get Jaimie over here so I can say goodbye to him?” Ignoring her mother’s strange look, she leaned against the doorjamb and took a ten-second nap.
“Hey, Branwyn, you don’t have to go, do you?” Her mother’s husband stood in front of her, grinning. She could never even think of him as “stepfather,” not really. Her mother had married him when Branwyn was fourteen and it had been Holly’s second husband that Branwyn had thought of as “dad.” But Evan had died when Branwyn was thirteen.
Losing Evan had been hard, but accepting Jaimie had been much easier than she’d expected. He brought out an enthusiasm in her mother that she’d never seen with Evan. Even after twelve years of marriage, he still made Holly giggle like a schoolgirl sometimes. Evan had been responsible, conscientious, careful, and incredibly devoted to both his children and stepchildren. Jaimie was absent-minded, light-hearted, and boyish even at forty-five.
He also had charms in three of his nodes. Each one had its own motif: a four-petaled flower, a cupped hand, a crescent moon.
Branwyn looked around the room wildly. Now that she’d had some time and really looked at Jaimie, she could better make sense of the confusion of lines and nodes that overlaid the other people in the room. And she could see that the rest of Jaimie’s band had the same nodes filled.
“Branwyn?” said Jaimie, his smile fading. “You alright?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just really tired. Burned out. You know how it is.”
He studied her. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
Branwyn summoned a grin. “I just wanted to say congratulations. I’m really looking forward to hearing the new album.”
His expression softened. “I’ve already started putting together a list. We’ll be able to get the mastering done properly this time.” His faraway gaze returned to her. “But you get out of here and get some rest.”
She nodded, and made her escape out the front door. As she walked to the bus stop in the warm night, she thought about Jaimie and Rhianna’s charms. More likely blessings or curses, she thought. Both times, she’d been shocked, but that reaction didn’t make sense. Corbin had given her the kindergarten charms to protect her from having unwelcome charms and curses placed on her, since she was so insistent on staying involved with the supernatural world. There was no real protection for most people, no way to stop them from being hurt by the attentions of a celestial or a tricky wizard except the checks and balances that already existed in the supernatural world. The relationships between the nephilim and the angels and the others seemed to serve as a shelter for most of humanity.
But the things that went bump in the night were still out there. That balance hadn’t helped Penny. And what had always existed was already changing. Branwyn shook her head. That was why she couldn’t turn away from the world Marley had moved into. She was going to make herself a place where she would have influence. That was why she’d traded her privacy for a bit of living metal fallen from Heaven.
She looked at the Machine shard, then closed her fingers over it. It was hers now. She’d paid for it, not Tarn.
She wondered what else it could be used for.
*
***Weird horse freakout!***
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A large plaza paved with small white stones, with a fountain and a statue in the center. On the far side of the statue, two mounted police officers sit, observing. A man with a waterfall of chestnut hair walks up to the mounted officers and begins to pat one of the horses. The mounted officer says something and moves his horse away a few steps. The camera moves closer just in time to see the chestnut-haired man tilt his head. Then he starts singing, his gaze focused on the horses. The horses shift restlessly and then, without any other warning, both of them start bucking wildly. The chestnut-haired man starts laughing as the two officers are both thrown off. Then the horses, wild-eyed, start to rear over the officers as if trying to trample them. The camera falls to the ground for a moment and when it is picked up again, the chestnut-haired man is gone and the two horses are calm, nuzzling the two officers cowering on the ground.
-twelve-
A shower and a night’s sleep and a day in the familiar environment of her garage left Branwyn feeling much more like her old self. Marley fussed over her at lunch, and the crew at work teased her about her mysterious boyfriend—which they believed was the only possible excuse for her sudden vacation—and she felt the weight of the Machine shard in her pocket. She did her best not to think about the watcher behind her eyes.
It had been hardest that morning when she’d woken up. She’d had a dream. It was the kind of dream that she did not want to ever tell anybody about, and half-awake, she’d wondered if the Queen of Stone had seen it. It had been in her head, sure—but she’d seen it, too. Felt it. It had been so real. The idea that even her dreams we
ren’t her own had almost driven her to tears. She didn’t even post on public social networks, and now every aspect of her life was being broadcast to a faerie court.
But she didn’t know what she could do about it, so she tried not to think about it. There was filing to be done at work, and quotes to finish, and customers to call. And at lunch, there was Marley, who scolded and sighed and laughed against her will at Branwyn’s jokes.
After work, she thought briefly about visiting Tarn, and about turning the Machine into a key. But she found she wasn’t in a hurry. She wanted to take time for herself after her trip through Faerie. And she was mildly curious what he’d do if she didn’t show up right away. Would he send his changelings out after her? Would he come himself? Or would he sit on his throne and fume?
That was a fun thought.
She went by Zachariah’s place instead. When he answered the door, she looked him up and down. He looked just as he always did, except that the silver band on his wrist was missing.
“What happened to your bling?” she asked.
His eyebrows went up. “My bling?”
“It was pretty weak-ass bling, it’s true.” When his eyebrows stayed raised, she said patiently, “Your bracelet.”
A guarded expression crossed his face. “It cracked and fell off.”
“Huh. That’s mysterious. Does your jewelry do that a lot?”
“No, not usually. Did you want something, Miss Lennox?”
“I came back alive,” she said sweetly. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“Hmm.” His gaze raked her up and down. “So I see. Not unscathed, though.”
Branwyn’s smile faded. “No.”
“Do you think it was a fair trade?”
Infinity Key (Senyaza Series Book 2) Page 15