A gorgeous woman dressed in a lacy, lilac ball gown sat on a white marble throne above the crowd, watching them. Her long hair was pale blonde, and a delicate crown of gold and diamonds twinkled on top of her head.
She saw us, and rose from her throne. The dancers split like a school of fish dodging a shark, clearing a path to the steps that led up to her throne.
“Come forth,” she commanded. I decided to let the elf brothers lead. We walked between two lines of masked, staring dancers, which I didn’t much care for.
Once we reached the foot of the steps, she smiled. “Welcome, my sons.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
“She’s your mother?”
“Yes.”
Queen Maeve didn’t look old enough to have two full-grown sons. Then again, elves didn’t noticeably age. “Oh, cool.”
“Who are these people?”
Kethyrdryll stepped forward and bowed. “Your Majesty, this is the Lady Discord. Her companions are Logan Sayer, Prince Connor O’Meara, Dane Soames, Miss Kate Smith, and Detective Damian Herde.”
“Percival,” Kate’s parrot added, “And Illusion.”
“Shifters and witches.” The Queen frowned. “Except her.”
She was looking at me. I wondered if I should bow.
“There’s tiger in your aura, yet you’re not a shifter.”
I indicated Logan and Dane with a wave of my hand. “They adopted me into their clan.”
“Hm. You’re a natural mage.”
I wasn’t about to argue with her. “Looks that way.”
She lost interest in me, looking around. “Where is this place?”
I let Thorandryll explain, watching as Maeve’s expression turned hard and her blue eyes frosty. When he finished, she uttered one word. “Morpheus.”
“Oh, I know that one. The god of sleep, right?”
“One of the gods of sleep and dreams,” Thorandryll corrected me, gazing at his mother. “I wasn’t aware you had him in custody.”
“You’re Seelie, It’s not your place to know such things.”
“Why would you have Morpheus in custody?” My question drew Maeve’s attention back to me.
“It is the duty of my people to capture and hold those who do evil. Morpheus changed. He is no longer a gentle god.”
“Oh.” And we were still under his power. “Um, maybe we better wake up.”
“We’ve tried, Miss Jones.” Thorandryll folded his hands together. “And were unsuccessful.”
It occurred to me that I may have dreamed everything. Morpheus could be any of the people around me. Maybe even all of them. “Let’s try again.”
The Queen’s laugh was a silvery, musical sound. “I’m now aware of the matter. Awake.”
I opened my eyes to a smooth surface and no feeling in the arm I lay on.
We had been moved. I groaned while rolling over onto my back, and heard enough to realize I wasn’t alone.
Okay, I was alone in the little cell with its door of bars and smooth walls of dull black volcanic rock. Yet, I could hear Kate muttering, the rustle-flap of Percy’s wings, and other sounds of people waking. My arm began to tingle and I grimaced.
“Cordi?” Logan and Dane called out at the same time, changing my grimace to a smile.
“I’m okay, is everyone here?” I rubbed my arm, wishing it would hurry up and return to normal circulation.
“Roll call,” Kate said, and one by one, the members of our party gave their names. I sat up when no one mentioned the hounds or mare.
“Leglin.” My hound buddy didn’t appear. “Okay. I don’t like this.”
“We’re in a dungeon. There’s a lot not to like.” Damian replied.
“None of the Unseelie are present,” Thorandryll said. “The cell doors are spelled to prevent escape.”
Ily yelped, and the prince sighed. “Don’t touch the bars.”
“It’s all right. You don’t have a mark,” Damian told his familiar. The husky grumbled. “I’ve said time and time again, not to put your nose on things. “ A slap of hand on rock followed.
“So we’re trapped.” Connor’s statement. “Fantastic.”
“The Queen is awake. She’ll send people to search for us since she knows we’re here.” Kethyrdryll paused. “Whether that’s before or after the Unseelie retake their realm...”
I huffed and climbed to my feet. My ass-kicking outfit was, of course, gone. The air felt chilly. “I’m not hanging out for rescue in my freaking night gown, people. Not really in the mood to freeze to death.”
“What do you suggest, Miss Jones? We can’t touch the bars and they are the only way out. There are spells to prevent magical egress.” Thorandryll sounded as huffy as I felt. “As the young lion said, we are trapped.”
“Un huh.” I walked two steps, stopped shy of the bars. From my new vantage point, I could see two other cell doors across a narrow hall. “Hi.”
Kate wiggled her fingers at me. Percy stood at her feet, his head turned. In the other cell, Logan smiled and lifted his hand. The bars looked like metal and radiated cold.
“Hm. Are there alarm spells? Like if someone escaped, would the Unseelie know?”
“Of course.” Thorandryll’s voice came from the left. I couldn’t see him, but Kate must’ve been able to, because she pointed.
“Okay.” Could I melt the bars? In theory, kinetic abilities were all about manipulating energy and matter. If I wanted ice, I made whatever moisture was present cold. Fire, I leaned on friction to cause air to super heat.
Metal was a little different. It didn’t burn like air or wood or vampires. I’d have to try and make it melt. That would require a lot of concentration and focus to get right. “As long as I don’t touch the bars, I’m good, right?”
“Or attempt spells,” Kethyrdryll said.
“Bully for me. I don’t know any.” Deep breath, Cordi. It can’t be that hard. “Okay.”
“What are you planning to do?” Logan had moved closer to his cell door.
“I’m gonna give it a hot foot. Or try to.”
Thorandryll snorted. “It won’t work. Your abilities are a form of magic, Miss Jones.”
“I don’t cast spells,” I pointed out. I didn’t. I just...kind of directed my kinetic abilities’ particular powers and manipulated them to do what I wanted.
With varying degrees of success, but oh well.
“I pray for you at times,” the prince said. “I pray you’ll survive your youthful arrogance.”
“Gee, thanks ever so much. Don’t think I don’t know that’s a fancy way of calling me an idiot, you jerk.”
“He may be right.” Kate rubbed her arms. She was wearing a lilac nightgown.
“I am right.”
“And I am going to try this anyway, because I’m freaking cold,” I said. “So shut up, Prince Snooty Pants.”
“I’m merely attempting to save you pain,” Thorandryll snapped. “Proceed if you wish. I await the opportunity to say ‘I told you so’ with an unseemly gleefulness.”
“Stuff it.” Okay, I was going to do this just to make him eat crow. “And be quiet, I have to concentrate.”
Which part? I decided on the metal plate. The other side had a keyhole. I could see the keyholes on Kate and Logan’s cell doors. “One metal hot foot coming up.”
Air was easy to combust. You simply increased the friction of its molecules until they burst into flame. The one and only time I’d set anything with metal parts on fire had been when I’d first woken from my coma.
I needed to practice to fine tune my abilities but finding time on a regular basis wasn’t exactly easy. Plus, I needed a safe place to practice with fire.
Didn’t want to burn anything down. I usually didn’t want to.
There had to be some air inside the lock. I concentrated on that, and a flicker of light rewarded my effort. Next step: heat the metal enough to melt. How many degrees was that? I had no clue, other than more than five hundred, since that was the high temper
ature for most ovens.
The best I could do was keep sending oxygen in and continue making the air molecules do a mad rhumba inside the lock. It was working, because I could smell the heated tang of metal.
I heard something give in the lock, and switched gears, hitting the door with a blast of telekinesis. It burst open and hit the edge of its stone frame on the hinge side. The dull clang-thump echoed as the cell door rebounded. I stopped it from closing with a TK block. “Hah.”
Walking out, I turned left and put my hands on my hips while meeting Thorandryll’s sour gaze. “Sorry dude, no ‘I told you so’ opportunity here.”
“You may be out, but we’re still trapped.”
“Give me a minute, and your cloak. I’m freezing.”
He actually rolled his ice blue eyes, but unpinned his cloak and dropped it. There was a slot at the bottom of his cell door, probably for food tray passage. Thorandryll used the toe of his boot to stuff his cloak through it.
I bent to pull the cloak through and gave it a shake before wrapping it around me. “Thank you.”
My bare feet were turning into ice cubes, but the cloak was an improvement over running around in a nightgown and panties.
I studied his cell door before looking left and right. More bars blocked each end of the cell block. No handy keys, buttons, or switches to see. “Figures.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing. Okay, stand back.” When the elf complied, I concentrated on the lock of his cell. Maybe he’d figure out a way to help once he was free.
Hearing the crack of superheated metal, I moved aside and pulled his cell door open with TK. “See, I’m your get out of jail free card.”
“My thanks.” Thorandryll joined me in the corridor. I turned to cross to Kate’s cell.
“Can you help me open these? I’m going to run out of juice if I have to do them all like this.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He moved to do Alleryn’s cell door. I began to concentrate, but heard “tink tink” and turned to see what Thorandryll was doing.
“You carry lock picks?”
“Shh.” He had his eyes half-closed. Shaking my head, I turned back and got busy. Once Kate was out, Percy took flight.
“Free, free. La petite deesse.”
I moved on while Kate scurried over to relieve Alleryn of his cloak as he left his cell. Her boyfriend produced another set of lock picks.
Logan stepped back, and I discovered it was hard to concentrate with him dressed just in pants. He was loads more distracting now, after the kissing and cuddling we’d done. My cheek had rested on his bare chest, and it had liked doing so.
Sproing-crack. I TKed his cell door open. “I bet you’re cold.”
“I’m okay,” he assured me, his lips curving a touch. “How are you doing?”
“I’m considering setting my feet on fire.”
“Give me a minute.”
I nodded and went to the next cell. Damian waved, his other hand resting on Illusion’s head. “Hello. Come to save the day?”
“Giving it my best shot.” By the time I’d freed them, Logan appeared with a pair of thick socks. “Ooh.”
“On loan from Kethyrdryll.”
“Nice.” I made short work of putting the socks on, hoping my feet would thaw out. The socks did provide insulation from the stone floor.
Before long, everyone was free. I’d ended up at one of the end doors, and sighed. “I’m tired.”
My head was hurting too, and my stomach chose that moment to let me know it wanted food with a growl. “And I’m hungry.”
A figure stepped into view on the other side of the bars. I shrieked and backed into Logan, lifting my hand to my chest. My heart was trying to leap out of it. “Holy crap! Don’t do that.”
The two elves on the other side of the bars paid zero attention to me. Logan and I stepped back as one of them began to unlock the door. They were both armed with swords and wearing dark gray armor.
"I want armor. Can I have cool armor?"
"If we make it home, I'll commission some for you. I know a guy," Logan said.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"You continue to hold the title of Bestest Friend."
"Prince Thorandryll," one of the new elves called, as he entered the dungeon. I tried to stifle my giggles when he ducked Percy, who dropped a smelly bird bomb on his way out. It splattered on the elf's back armor. My sputtering noises earned me a look that killed my giggle urge.
"Hey, I didn't do it."
Percy shot back through the doorway, screeching and pooping as he went. Logan and I narrowly avoided being hit, plastering ourselves to the wall. Few others were as lucky, resulting in yells of outrage and arms swinging, trying to swat the parrot out of the air.
"Really, Percival."
"Miss Smith, control your familiar," Thorandryll ordered. Kate gave him a look that plainly told him where he could stick his order. Percy pooped on the prince's shoulder before landing on Kate's.
I buried my face against Logan's shoulder, trying to muffle my laughter. Trust Bird Brain to shake things up.
"I don't like your bird," Connor told Kate.
"Not very fond of him myself at the moment."
"Prince Thorandryll," Percy's first target said. "My Queen requires your attendance."
"Of course."
"Hey, any chance of some clothes?" I'd recovered from my hilarity. "I'm not dressed for meeting royalty."
The second new elf sneered at me. "And you are?"
"Lady Discordia Angel Jones, a queen of my clan, a protégé of Lord Whitehaven's, and the main reason you're awake with a hope in hell of taking back your realm."
I closed my mouth, quit staring at Logan, and nodded. "What he said, bub."
Kethyrdryll smiled. "She's also a rather powerful natural mage."
"I prefer psychic."
He bowed. "My apologies for forgetting your preference."
"Are you two officially dating yet?" Damian waved his finger between Logan and me. Kate smacked his arm. "What?”
"Not the time."
"It would be glorious if everyone who isn't me would stop speaking now." Everyone looked at Thorandryll. He smiled. "Thank you. Now, we are ready to meet with the Queen."
TWENTY-EIGHT
We were guided to the same ballroom we’d visited in the dream, which apparently doubled as Queen Maeve’s throne room. Once again, we had to pass between lines of grim-faced, staring Unseelie. I didn’t like it any better the second time around.
Though catching one or two of them wrinkling their noses at the odor of parrot poo kind of made my day.
The Unseelie Queen didn’t looked impressed as she surveyed us from her throne. “You appear worse for the wear, my sons.”
“There was an unfortunate incident,” Kethyrdryll said.
“I would like some clothes before we go fight the bad guy. Please,” I added when Maeve looked at me.
“You won’t be accompanying us. This is an internal matter.”
“He has human hostages we’ve been sent to retrieve.” Kate slipped between Thorandryll and Kethyrdryll. I envied her ability to appear confident, dressed in a nightgown and cloak spattered with bird crap. “We have the right to claim our human kin.”
“Here, you have only the rights I choose to grant you, little witch.”
I freed one hand from my borrowed cloak and raised it. “Um, what if we’re under the orders of a god?”
Maeve smiled. “And which god would that be, who orders you to trespass into my domain?”
I couldn’t give her Sal’s name, because I didn’t know his real one, so I went with God Number Two. “The Horned God, Cernunnos.”
“Really, Miss Jones,” Thorandryll gritted out, shooting me an annoyed look.
“Don’t you really me, bub. He told me to come here, to find what’s missing. What’s missing is humans. I’m here, and I’m going to find them.”
“You’re not one of us, no
r an animal. Why would the Lord of the Hunt choose you as his emissary?” Maeve asked.
Good question. I stared back at her, before smiling as an answer presented itself. “He’s the Lord of the Hunt. I’m a private investigator, which is a type of hunter, and I’m on a hunt.”
Thorandryll sighed. “The Horned One did state that he found Miss Jones to be an intriguing child, when first they met.”
“How did such a meeting come about?”
“She rode on a Hunt with us,” Alleryn replied from somewhere behind us. “A dark elf survived.”
Maeve’s lips tightened. “I see.”
“Miss Jones has proven herself useful in the past,” the prince said. He hadn’t lost his annoyed face though.
I grinned up at the Queen. “Not to brag, but I blew up a god at the end of that Hunt. Well, his Avatar.”
Her lips parted, and she blinked. “We have a matter of grave importance to attend to. See to it that they’re properly outfitted.”
“Why don’t we have armor?” I swept my hand from myself to Damian and Kate.
Logan double-checked the hang of the sword he’d been given. “Ever play an RPG?”
“Huh?”
“Role playing game. Dungeons and Dragons?” Damian shook his head at my blank look. “What do you do for fun?”
“Cook, read, watch movies.” I pointed at Leglin. “He even got armor.”
“Because he’s a tank. Tanks physically fight. We,” Damian waved his hand, including Kate and me in the sweep of his hand. “Are casters. We do damage from a distance.”
“With a buffer zone of us to keep anyone from getting to you.” Dane tightened the straps on Connor’s chest plate.
“Oh.” I eyed Logan’s sword, which had a brilliant green jewel set in the pommel. “I want to start taking sword lessons.”
“Every clan member can use one. I can teach you, or if you’d rather have a female instructor, I’d recommend Moira. She’s hell on wheels with blades. Any type of blade.” Logan surveyed us, and knelt to make adjustments to Leglin’s armor. The chest piece of if didn’t look quite right. “Who put this on him?”
Frost & Bothered (Discord Jones Book 4) Page 22