by Zoe Parker
Rime steps forward and gently places his cold hand over the burn, the pain subsides immediately. When he removes his hand, I see that although it’s still there it is faded like a scar versus a fresh burn.
“Don’t hide it, it’s a mark of your power,” Rime whispers, stepping back away from me.
Lifting my chin, I smile. “All right fellas, it’s time to go.”
A Pegasus drawn carriage takes us to the district castle. The line to wait is ridiculously long and the vehicles range from the magic powered cars to a variation of creatures, including one bored looking Troll.
I won’t admit it, but I’m nervous as heck. We were so busy with things that we didn’t get to practice much, but then again, I’m not sure we needed to. Something magical guides us when we dance together. Something beyond what I know.
All that’s left for me to do is to hold on and ride out the cadence of Ciar.
“What put a smile like that on your face?” Rime asks. He and Ciar are both sitting on the seat across from me, while I have this seat all to myself. Mary didn’t want the dress to get squished.
My eyes meet Ciar’s and the amusement and small bit of softness in them informs me he’s snooping in my head.
“Just thinking about dancing,” I answer, realizing that he’s waiting on one.
“You must really love dancing,” he mutters.
“My lord, please let us direct your carriage to the appropriate line.” Turning towards the Elf who is wearing the old timey footman outfit, including the white wig, I look back at Ciar who is wearing a look so cold and haughty that for a moment I almost don’t recognize him.
“Took you long enough, servant. I expect apologies to be made to myself and my guests.”
“Of course, my lord.” The footman bows, and our carriage is moving towards another section of the road. One with armed Goblin guards and a large silver gate blocking the road. As we draw near the guards bow and the gate opens.
“Ciar?” I question, a bit apprehensive about this change up in things.
“They pushed it to the point of insult but not quite past it. Now we shall be given respect due our monetary station,” he says, his eyes lit and swirling.
This isn’t just Ciar I’m faced with now, this is the king that Zag mentioned. This is the Ciar who taught me to do many things and always pushed me.
“Ciar, when were you going to tell me you were a king?” For the first time he looks a bit uncomfortable as his green eyes flicker to me.
“Eventually. I didn’t figure it for something super important.”
“You’re the flipping Fae king, Ciar. That’s super important.”
Ciar smiles and rolls his eyes. “Na, I’m uncrowned. Besides, I’m waiting for the wedding.”
Wedding? I look around for something to throw at the sarcastic butt head but find nothing, and I refuse to throw one of my beautiful shoes at him.
“My lord,” the footman begins to say, then pauses as if listening to something—I imagine he is, “if you’ll come this way.”
Ciar inclines his head and stands. Climbing out of the carriage, he puts his hand up for me and helps me down. With effort I keep from rolling my eyes. Now is the time to behave even, the smallest slight towards royalty can end up with my head on a spike somewhere outside of the castle, like a pumpkin on Samhain.
Ciar stops walking and looks over and down at me.
“I’d level this kingdom.”
Then he continues walking, his face stoic and his posture ramrod straight like he didn’t say he’d kill them all. Looking around carefully, I slap him full on the butt and my face, as straight as I’ve ever been able to keep it, reflects none of it.
To give the man credit, he didn’t pause for a second.
‘Tonight, when you’re naked and exhausted from the dirty things I’m going to do to you, that sweet ass is mine, monster girl.’
Biting my lip, I keep my mouth shut, but it’s a barely kept thing. Not only did he threaten me with wonderfully lascivious things, he shared images from his mind as well. Two can play that game. I think of the most pervy things that have ever crossed my thoughts to do to, or with him, in vivid delicious detail.
“What are you two doing that has this fucking bond going nuts?” Rime whispers, loudly I might add, from behind me.
I’m so used to it being just Ciar and I that another person will take some getting used to. I might be starting to accept the inevitable bond and future sexual relationship between Rime and me. It’ll happen, I can feel it. Rime just hasn’t earned his place in my life yet. I don’t care about the magical wahoo he has to earn it.
He doesn’t get to just say okay, let’s get naked and he’s part of the family. Not that he’s said that… yet. Unless I’m mistaken in that look he gave me he’s thinking about me along the same lines.
‘Oh, you’re not mistaken, monster girl.’ Ciar reassures me. That’s something he does a lot and now I’m starting to see it and appreciate it for what it is. ‘Took you long enough.’
“Seriously though, I can feel… a lot of things, but I’m not getting any telepathic voodoo and shit,” Rime insists.
A squawking blue raven divebombs Rime’s perfectly gelled hair. It’s cawing laughter echoes around us as it lands on his shoulder and begins to ruffle his hair. Trick has joined the party. I wonder if the creator is as entertaining as the golem bird?
I don’t have time to dwell on it. A set of floor-to-ceiling double doors are at the end of the walk-way, they open of their own accord and inside is bright and loud, and a cloud of perfumes and smells rolls out of the open door.
Is it too late to backout?
Ciar grabs my hand and tucks it into the crook of his arm. Yep, it’s too late to backout now.
‘You got this, so don’t be a chicken.’
A dirty look from me goes unnoticed as we enter the overly bright room. An elegant, open, round ballroom greets me, packed full of a myriad of creatures and colors. Waiters, balancing trays on multiple hands, cruise by dodging and weaving without their tray wobbling at all.
That’s some skill right there.
“Why are you admiring the waiters instead of the dancers, Keri?” Rime asks, coming up to touch my elbow.
Shrugging, I turn to look at the dance floor. It is beautiful. The room is made with purple and green glow stone. Marbled and seemingly alive, it pulses with the magic of the spell feeding it. Glow stone is expensive to make, and this right here is a banner saying, ‘Hey, I’m richer than you are.’
Considering it’s the Duke of Harleigh—aka the King of Lafayette’s son, yeah, they’re richer than anyone here. Except maybe—I look at Ciar, who smiles at me like the cat that’s got the canary.
Apparently except Ciar.
“Have you been around much royalty, Rime?”
“I’ve stolen from a lot of them.” He doesn’t crack a smile while he says this. Instead, he looks around with calculation in his frost colored eyes. “No matter where you go, the rich are always the same. I’ve attended quite a few of their parties, mostly to case a place, and I’ve yet to see any that aren’t egotistical, empty-headed twats.”
“Ciar’s rich,” is all I say.
“Yeah but he’s not these guys.” He isn’t shocked at all. That’s no fun. “I can smell money and he reeks of it, Keri. I’ve known since the first time I laid eyes on him.” He says it in that duh tone that makes me want to smack him. “But he’s nothing like this lot. They covet it, seek it out—destroy for it. Ciar IS power.”
Okay, he’s forgiven I don’t want to smack him anymore.
“As are you.” He smiles a devastating smile that leaves me a bit open mouthed as he bows all courtly like and disappears into the crowd with the raven still on his shoulder. Yet, I feel him out there because the bond has grown more.
“You know, I think that Rime is growing on me.”
Ciar’s answer is a chuckle. We pause at the top of the stairway and wait to be announced. Well, Ciar waits. I hav
e no idea what to do, I’m simply following his lead and paying attention to what’s happening around me.
“My Lord Ciar of the Forest and,” the announcer leans towards Ciar who whispers something in his ear. “His consort, Lady Keri Nightshade.” Ciar inclines his head and I curtsy in the precise, perfect way that Ciar made me practice over and over as a child.
It feels like every eye in the place is on us and I understand why he taught me.
‘Why didn’t you just tell me then?’
‘Oh, that you were destined to be Center and would one day be the Consort of the King of Fae? I’m sure you’d have taken that well, celebrated it even.’
‘Well, you can shove it up your wazoo, buddy.’
‘Which is exactly what you would’ve said then too.’
I can’t stop the laugh that escapes. I cover my mouth, but it still slips free. He’s completely right, it’s almost word for word what I’d have said to him if he told me this crap then. And probably throw in a dog breath for good measure.
‘At least now I know why you made me learn all that crap about Triads and stuff. Now we have to teach our special snowflake.’
‘Our?’
‘Well, yeah. We’re a team, aren’t we?’
‘Always, monster girl.’ The seriousness of his tone makes me look at him. His eyes, vivid and alive with the magic of the night, are looking at me with such… love.
How in the world did I ever doubt his feelings concerning me?
‘Will I love him one day?’ I’m not sure how that will work. I know it’s possible to love more than one person, some of the Sluagh had multiple mates and Triads have proven it over and over.
Will ours?
‘I think that’s on him. You’ve got a lot of love inside of you, monster girl. More than enough for three fools who don’t deserve it.’
Before I can argue with his fool’s comment, “His Grace the Duke of Harleigh!” a voice calls over the cacophony of noise in the ballroom. Instantly the room quiets. I might think he’s an arrogant tool, but he’s the son of the king.
And for some reason he’s staring right at me.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the annual Mixer of the Bordertown Menagerie. I want to thank you all for coming and for your generous donations to the school. As you all know we depend heavily on them for our future generations. Now,” the smile he gives me is all ego, indicating that this next part is going to twist my tail. “As you know, every year the students from the dance class at the school perform at the Mixer, however this year I’ve chosen only one couple to entertain us this evening. Maestro?” With a wave of his hand towards us the music filters through the room.
Ciar, always on his toes, makes me walk with him to the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, I get into position and look up into his eyes.
‘Let’s show them what we’re made of, monster girl.’
Winking, he parts the lips of the mouth that I suddenly want to kiss, and the first note leaves it, taking part of my soul with it into the air above us to spin around in a magical storm.
Following his lead into the first steps of our dance I begin to hum. Slowly, a step forward and step back. Half-spin…speed up.
And as we dance his eyes hold mine captive and the hum turns into words to match his, and together we move, and we sing and my stomach burns—in a good way—with the magic we create together.
The moment our voices completely harmonize is the moment the magic leaves me to twine with his around us, a colorful tornado made of the magic from our life together of the pain we’ve endured of the love we’ve shared.
Around us, faster and faster it spins, to finally lift us into the air. Faster we move, faster… so fast now that only inhuman eyes can follow, and I find myself laughing with the jubilation of it, the freedom of it.
As the last notes of the piano fade into the silent room we float back to the ground, breathing heavily, smiles on both of our faces. Leaning down, he kisses me softly, soundly and when his mouth parts from mine he leaves a promise behind.
A promise of something so deep and profound there isn’t a word for it. It’s more than love it’s… more than life. It’s everything that he is, that he will be—and it’s mine.
I don’t try to stop the tear that treks down my cheek or the one that follows. I don’t try to look away or step back. I can’t.
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I chose this couple to share with you tonight,” the Duke says, coming to stand beside us.
This does make me turn away, if only to keep this incredible emotion between Ciar and I.
I look over at the Duke to find his speculative gaze on Ciar, who is looking at him with boredom in his emotionally flat eyes. Harleigh suspects but he can’t prove anything, Ciar’s glamour is good—the best I’ve seen.
The Duke raises his arms and then claps his hands, slow at first and solo in the quiet room and then the roar of others applauding follows. Its thunderous in the ballroom and my head immediately starts to hurt.
Ciar weaves his fingers through mine and pulls us backwards into the crowd. Rime meets us at the entrance to the terrace. The bird is still on his shoulder.
“That was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I had no idea that you sing, Keri.” Rime says, his eyes alight with pleasure and a smile on his face.
“Each member of the Triad is musically inclined.” Ciar observes, his eyes searching the shadows past the farthest edge of light.
“What?”
“We are being watched.”
“How do you know that?” Rime asks, visibly relaxing, but his eyes subtly look around us.
“I can smell them… but—DOWN KERI!” I don’t even hesitate I drop to my knees and roll, grimacing when I feel the dress tear, but there’s nothing to be done about it. A spell bomb hits where I was standing two seconds ago.
Rime has an ice barrier around the part of me vulnerable to the direction the bomb came from and Ciar is already gone, chasing someone if the fire I see flare in the darkness and yelp of pain is an indication.
‘There are more of them and monster girl… you’re not going to like—’
“Why won’t you die already?” The familiar voice saying something so darn nasty brings my full attention to the woman now standing in front of me.
“Lucinda?”
“How in the world are you so surprised that I’m trying to kill you?”
It does and it doesn’t. “I thought you were too stupid to be a bad guy.” I kick the hem of the dress out and loosen my stance. There’s a knife sheathed on my thigh.
I never leave home without one, now.
“Are you serious? I planned this entire fiasco. I tried to give you a gentle death and poison you but that didn’t work, and then I hired that stupid ‘world-famous’ assassin and look what happened to him? He fell on his own knife… how fucking clumsy do you have to be to do that?”
Lucinda is a total nutball, I can see the light of crazy in her eyes now. Before I thought she had a tear duct issue or allergies. Isn’t that something humans suffer from quite commonly?
Does it really make me stupid to trust?
‘No, but maybe not quite so readily next time?’
‘You’re not going to do the whole ‘told you so’ spiel?’
‘I’m saving that for later—after the spanking. Now pay attention to the threat, assess her. Defeat her.’
“What are you smiling about? I tell you that I want you dead and you smile?” Lucinda demands.
“Fell on his knife, huh?” She doesn’t realize I’m the reason that happened. I’m guessing her little sacrifice was a sham too.
“Right? Fell on his fucking knife. Then I tried the bomb but somehow you survived that shit too. Then the arrow that supposedly never misses its target missed you—where did that ice come from? You don’t have elemental powers, so it wasn’t you. And a Selkie doesn’t have those kinds of abilities. Did you hire a body guard?” She rambles, on an
d on.
“Do you ever listen to what comes out of your mouth? Because you sound ridiculous.” Her sane ship has sailed, that’s for sure. I don’t even think she realizes she’s in a ballroom with the son of the king.
Her face scrunches up and I sidestep, sensing that she’s going to do something. In disbelief I watch as the small, sort of pathetic fireball goes whizzing by. Honestly, I could’ve stayed where I was and it would’ve missed. It reminds me of those cheap fireworks you buy at a cheap store. The ones that never work right and fizzle out before they actually do much of anything.
And here I was complaining about not having fireballs.
“My father told me that if I kill you I can have the same status as my Awakened siblings. I’m sorry, I actually am—because I kinda like you but you have to die, Keri.”
“Why does your father want me dead?”
She likes to talk, let’s see how much. My eyes pan around the strangely silent room and I find everyone watching us, intently. No one is doing anything to stop her or help me. These idiots like the show.
“Because of your father or something. My father is working under the mistaken belief that you have power. I tried telling him that you can’t light a match with a lighter, let alone do anything dangerous.”
Edging to my right I move slightly closer to her.
“Kind of like your own abilities, eh?”
“Right? I studied hard! I can speak four languages, I know the history of all things Faerth. The fact that my magic isn’t—wait, there’s nothing wrong with my magic!”
“Too late you already admitted you suck. Your family is part of the Sun Clan?”
“How’d you know that?”
“How is someone so smart so stupid?” I smile at her. “You answer first.”
“I’m… you… oh my gods someone kill her!” she shouts. I wait for something to happen, but nothing does. I look past her. Ciar is leaning against a small fruit tree of some kind cleaning his bloody nails and Rime is sitting on the bench twiddling a knife over his knuckles. Which is also bloody.
Lucinda’s backup isn’t coming.
“Uh, Lucinda…”