Shadow Heir: A Dark Swan Novel#4

by Richelle Mead

  After a couple connections and layovers, we finally made it back to Tucson in early evening. For the first time in a very long while, I allowed myself to truly focus on something that wasn’t the twins. Tucson. How long had it been since I’d been here? Even before my time in Huntsville, I’d had to avoid my hometown for fear of gentry assassins. Looking at the Sonora Desert that surrounded the city, bathed in the oranges and reds of sunset, I felt a surge of joy spread through me. Home. Maybe Tucson didn’t have the magical pull of my Otherworldly kingdoms, but I’d ached for it nonetheless.

  My mother cried out in joy when Roland and I walked into their house. She raced forward, catching me in a tight embrace. I thought I heard a muffled sob and hoped she wouldn’t cry because I was pretty sure I’d start crying too. She clung to me for a long time, as though fearing I might vanish again if she let go. When she finally stepped back, she took one look at me and asked, “What happened?” My body wasn’t a hundred percent back to its original shape, but it was pretty obvious I was no longer pregnant.

  “You’re a grandmother,” I said, opting for simplicity.

  Since it looked like my mom was on the verge of passing out, we all moved to the kitchen table in order to recap what had been happening. Roland and I had plenty of digital pictures to share, and my mother pored over them, a look of wonder on her face that I was pretty sure mirrored mine. She grilled us on the twins’ health and the hospital’s care, then moved on to an examination of the Reeds.

  For her own safety, I didn’t tell my mom where the Reeds lived. As I described them, I had a momentary weird feeling as I realized this all read like some sort of real-life fairy tale. Two children, living in obscurity with a childless couple, only to discover later that they were the offspring of a fairy queen.

  Once my mother was satisfied Ivy and Isaac were getting quality care, she moved on to much more momlike things. “Did you really have to name her Ivy?” my mother asked. She wrinkled her nose. “It’s such a ... hippie name.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s a fine name. And it sounds nice with Isaac.”

  My mother looked skeptical. “Well. So do Isabelle and Irene.”

  There was no question I’d stay overnight at their house, but I knew that was probably the only time I could spend in Tucson. My mother would’ve kept me forever if she could, but Roland and I both knew that I couldn’t delay much longer in getting to the Otherworld. I planned on spending most of the next day acquiring gear for the wintry conditions of the Otherworld’s blight. Roland shook his head when I told him that night that I planned on getting my down coat from my own house the next day.

  “You’re going to need more than that,” he said ominously. “You need to go all out. Scarves, gloves, boots. Then layer up underneath those.”

  “This is summer in Tucson,” I reminded him, just in case he hadn’t noticed the weather right outside his window. “Where am I going to find that stuff?” There was actually a thriving ski trade outside of town in the winter, so getting supplies wouldn’t have been that difficult any other time of year.

  “It’s out there. You’re just going to have to do a little bit of hunting.”

  He was right. Daytime found me on quite the scavenger hunt as I scoured the city for sporting goods stores that had any meager winter stock. Secondhand stores provided some luck as well, particularly for things like sweaters. My Tucson nostalgia was still going strong, so in some ways, I didn’t mind driving all over. I was able to see all the familiar sights I’d missed and even grab lunch at one of my favorite hole-in-the-wall Southwest restaurants.

  Late afternoon found me back in the Catalina Foothills, heading toward my own house. Just like everything else around here, it had been months since I’d been to the house. I pulled into the driveway and sat in my car for several minutes, taking in the familiar view. It looked exactly the way I’d left it, with its stucco finish and rock garden of a lawn. The house wasn’t big—it only had two bedrooms—but there’d been plenty of space for my needs. Plus, it had been mine, my own sanctuary, in a way that even the Otherworldly castles weren’t, seeing as those always had people coming and going.

  I’d gotten a spare key from my parents and let myself inside, relieved the locks hadn’t been changed. I’d left the house in the care of my old roommate, Tim. He wasn’t the type to make radical changes, but if any Otherworldly denizens had come calling after I left, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Tim had taken some extreme security precautions.

  When I stepped into my kitchen, however, I came to a total standstill and wished I’d brought a weapon. There was a stranger sitting at my table.

  “Who the hell are you?” I demanded.

  He was wearing a stiff gray suit and had short, neatly trimmed black hair. His face was turned away from me as he rummaged through a briefcase on the table, but he jumped in alarm at the sound of my voice. He spun toward me, face showing the same panic I felt. After a few moments of study, however, his eyes widened, and his body relaxed.

  “Eug?”

  I stared, wondering how this guy knew my name, and then ... I saw it. I gasped in disbelief.

  “Tim? Is that you?”

  He flashed me a grin and settled back in the chair. “Of course it’s me. Who else would be here?”

  I was dumbfounded and couldn’t answer right away. “But you ... you’re wearing a tie.”

  He glanced down and scowled at the paisley silk monstrosity around his neck. “Yeah, it’s a pain, but my job has a dress code.”

  “Your ... your job?” I felt like I’d wandered into some alternate reality and had to seek out a chair of my own at the table, lest I faint out of sheer mental exhaustion.

  “Yup,” he said with mock enthusiasm. “I’m a productive member of society.”

  “You cut your hair,” I said, reduced to simply pointing out the obvious.

  “Another requirement of the job.” He absentmindedly smoothed some of his hair back and then brightened. “But they let me wear my headdress.”

  “Your headdress?”

  He jumped up again and disappeared down the hall that led to the bedrooms. While he was gone, I glanced around, looking for any other signs that I had entered a parallel universe. Nope. Everything else was the same. Tim returned shortly, carrying a full, feathered Lakota headdress that reached nearly to the floor. He put it on and grinned at me triumphantly.

  “See?”

  I looked him over from head to toe, taking in the formal suit juxtaposed with feathers. “Where exactly do you work?”

  “I sell car insurance,” he explained.

  “And they let you wear all that to work?”

  He sat down again and left the headdress on. “They encourage it, actually. They really support the idea of a diverse workplace and wanted to hire as many minorities as they could. And even though there’s a dress code, it’s really important to them that their minorities express their unique cultural heritage. Wearing this is a way to bring some Native American influence into the workplace.”

  “But Tim ... you aren’t Native American.”

  This, at least, was semi-familiar territory. Tim, having few employable skills, had spent most of his life marketing what he did have: coloring and features that looked Native American to those who didn’t know any better. He’d rotated through various tribes (usually opting for non-Southwest ones, so as not to get in trouble with the locals) and played the part to help him get laid and sell bad poetry.

  “That’s never stopped me before,” he said, following my very thoughts.

  “Yeah, but when it comes to the workplace ... I mean, if you’re getting some kind of benefit, you usually have to show documentation or something. And I know you don’t have that.”

  He shrugged. “I seemed so authentic that they didn’t even bother doing a background check. There was another guy interviewing for the same position. I think he was full-blooded Apache, but he didn’t do anything to play that up. Just showed up in a suit. If he’d worn war paint,
he might have gotten hired over me.”

  I groaned. “Probably he was doing something crazy, like—oh, I don’t know—relying on professionalism and job skills. What on earth drove you to get a job anyway? I mean, I’m impressed—well, not with the fake Lakota act—but it’s not something I expected from you.”

  “That makes two of us.” His earlier enthusiasm dimmed. “It was all Lara’s doing. She said if you weren’t around, then it was ‘immoral’ for me to keep living here rent-free.” When we’d been roommates, Tim had earned his keep by doing housework and cooking.

  I felt a smile creep over my face. “You’re still with her?” Tim getting together with my former secretary had been both unexpected and delightful. It was on par with Rurik and Shaya’s seemingly mismatched relationship.

  “Yup.” Tim sighed. “Oh, the things I do for love, Eug. Anyway, yeah, she said it wasn’t right to drain your bank account for the mortgage, so I got a job, and she stopped the auto-deductions or whatever. Now we cover it.”

  “So she lives here too,” I mused. I wasn’t surprised that Lara had been able to alter my mortgage payment options. She’d always known more about my finances and business affairs than I had. “Where is she? I’d love to see her.”

  He glanced at the clock. “Still at work. That Enrique guy has her working crazy hours, but at least she pulls a lot of them.” That too was welcome news. As my business had dried up, I’d worried about Lara and had introduced her to a private detective who needed clerical help. Apparently things had worked out. “But forget about us. Where have you been? Jesus, Eug. It’s been, what? Almost half a year? I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  There was legitimate hurt in his voice, and I realized that I hadn’t spared much care for friends who might have wondered at my disappearance. Tim knew I was involved with the Otherworld, but he had no idea of the extent of my entanglement. He hadn’t even known I was pregnant. I’d taken off before it was obvious.

  “It’s complicated,” I said. “And messy. All I can tell you is that I had some, uh, things to take care of, and it was better for all of us that I stayed away.”

  “Without even a hint that you were okay?” Again, the hurt and accusation in his voice took me aback.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I ... I just didn’t think. I can honestly say it was safer for you not to know, but I should’ve sent some message ... or even left a note.”

  “If the visitors we initially had were any indication, I can understand the ‘safe’ part,” he admitted.

  “Visitors?” My earlier instincts may have been right after all.

  He waved a dismissive hand, like it was no big deal. “Yeah, kind of a random assortment. I don’t know what kind of creatures they all were—Lara could probably tell you. Your old man was around a lot and got rid of them, and before long, they stopped coming. I guess they recognized a lost cause.”

  I hadn’t realized Roland had done that for me, though it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He was the kind of conscientious person who would think of things like that. I owed him. If it hadn’t been for him, Tim might not be so blasé about his “visitors.”

  “So, hey, that’s taken care of. No harm done. Now. Let’s move on to more important things.” He stood up and took the headdress off. “What do you want for dinner? It’s been a while, but I still remember your favorites. We’ve even still got a stash of Milky Ways.”

  I grinned. “I’ll take those, but I’m afraid I can’t stick around. I’ve got to get a few things and then head out.”

  Tim had been about to open a cupboard and stopped. His face fell. “Can’t you even stay to see Lara? She’ll probably be back in, oh, an hour. Two at most.”

  I glanced at the clock and felt my own disappointment. “I don’t think I can. I’m heading out of town again and still have to figure things out.” Aside from my mom wanting to see me tonight, Roland and I had a few logistics to discuss about my Otherworldly trip.

  “Damn,” Tim said. “You sure do know how to toy with a guy’s emotions, Eug.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, flashing what I hoped was a sympathetic look. “I’ll try to be back soon. Honest.” I wondered how Tim would feel if he knew that when I did come back, I might have two babies in tow.

  He nodded. “Okay. Can I at least help you get what you need?”

  “Sure,” I told him. “I need to dig out my winter stuff—like, my real winter stuff.”

  That got a raised eyebrow, and he asked no questions. We were able to locate what I wanted quickly, largely because—despite his many quirks—Tim ran an efficient household and had had everything neatly arranged in storage. Once that was set, it was time for good-bye. Just like all my other partings, I felt guilty over this one. At least I knew Tim didn’t need me, not like others did. Plus, I was actually able to say good-bye this time, instead of disappearing on him. Surely that had to count for something.

  I left him shortly thereafter and headed back toward Roland and Mom’s house. Again, I felt that ache in my chest as I took in the gorgeous scenery of the foothills. I loved this area. It was why I’d shaped the Thorn Land in its image. It hardly seemed fair to be leaving here so soon, yet at the same time ... a thrill of excitement ran through me. Part of my heart might be here in Arizona, but the rest of it was tied up elsewhere, in a place I was burning to see as much as I had been to see this one.

  Tomorrow I would return to the Otherworld.

  Chapter 12

  I felt a little ridiculous when my mom dropped Roland and me off at a gate out in the Sonora Desert. In addition to my down coat, I also had on a turtleneck, sweater, jeans, tights, knee-high boots, gloves, scarf, and knit hat. Roland was similarly bundled up. It was super early in the morning, but the temperature was already on the rise. Fortunately, there were no hikers out yet to see the spectacle we made.

  I was riding shotgun, and my mom caught a hold of my hand before I got out of the car. “Be careful,” she said. “And don’t stay away so long this time.”

  “I won’t,” I said, hoping I could keep my word. I gave her hand one last squeeze and then stepped outside, where I was immediately blasted by morning heat. I grimaced, feeling like I was in an oven. “Let’s do this.”

  Roland nodded and headed over toward the gate. To the uninitiated, it simply looked like any other place out there in the desert. We knew what signs to watch for, however, and could even sense the gate’s power. It was of moderate strength, meaning it required little effort for us to cross—and was the kind that a wayward person could accidentally get caught up in on a sabbat day. Roland gave me one last questioning look.

  “Sure you’re ready?”

  “Very,” I said, not feeling sure at all.

  We stepped through, and I felt that familiar and always-disconcerting sensation of being stretched, pulled apart, and reassembled again. Knowing what to expect helped a little, and within moments, I was back to myself—just in time to be nearly knocked over by a blast of wind. I caught hold of the first thing I could, which turned out to be Roland. He steadied me as I regained my footing and stared around in disbelief at what I saw.

  White, as far as the eye could see. We stood on one of the main roads that traversed the Otherworld. It was covered in snow that looked like it had been packed down somewhat by wagons, horses, and feet. I wondered also if there was some magic to the road that kept it semi-clear because the snow covering it was nothing compared to the drifts on either side of us, which came nearly to my waist. Also lining the road were trees coated in both ice and snow. There was almost something beautiful to their delicate, lacy appearance—yet at the same time, the trees had a stricken and forlorn feel to them. They were imprisoned, struggling to stay alive.

  With nearly everything blanketed in the ice and snow, it was difficult to pick out many features in the land. Even the sky was dreary, covered in white and gray clouds. This could have been any place, really. The unique characteristics that normally identified the various kingdoms were ob
scured in white, but I didn’t need any of them. I knew exactly where we were.

  We were in the Rowan Land.

  My eyes had a difficult time believing it, but my heart knew. I sank to my knees and rested my palms flat on the ground. There it was, the hum of energy that sang within the land of every kingdom, the energy that made up the bond we shared. It screamed out to me for help ... and at the same time, it felt muted. It was like someone beating on glass, desperate to get out but unable to break the barrier. I couldn’t break it either and understood more than ever why I hadn’t known about the lands’ distress while in the human world. The land hadn’t been able to fully reach me.

  Roland touched my shoulder. “Eugenie, come on. We shouldn’t stay out here any longer than we have to.”

  I knew he was right and reluctantly got back on my feet, surprised to feel myself shaking all over. I suspected it was as much from shock as from the cold.

  “I didn’t expect this,” I said as I began following him down the road. “I mean, visually, yes. Each time you described the blight, I kept picturing this documentary I once saw about Antarctica. This isn’t far off, except with less penguins. What I didn’t expect was how the land felt. This cold, or rather the magic that’s causing it, goes all the way to the land’s core. Until now, I thought only I could reach that deep.”

  “If you’re able to reach that far, were you able to get any sense if you could undo the magic?”

  “Not just then, no. It seemed like the magic was entrapping the land, and there was nothing I could do to break through.” I saw Roland frown but didn’t know if that was in disappointment or because of his inability to fully comprehend gentry magic. “Maybe in time, I could find a way.”

  I wasn’t so sure, however. I had to imagine the other monarchs had experienced the same sensations I had, and if they hadn’t been able to find a way to crack the enchantment after all this time, it seemed unlikely I’d be able to either.