Free Agent

by J. C. Nelson

  “Not your man, little witchling. Hers. You should use it soon. You have little time left.” As I took the prism, she seized my hand. The restraints on her smoked, burning her, and the heat seared my skin. She held on with an iron grip as she peered at my hand. “See, she has marked you as her own. Remember me with favor when she comes, handmaiden.”

  “Let her go,” said Ari, and I felt the magic rushing in around her with her anger.

  The witch let go, and I yanked my hand away. She looked at Ari with those yellow eyes and spat. “She will drink your soul.”

  On the street I sat at the curb and caught my breath. “I’ll explain, I promise. I just need time.”

  That’s about when the sky split open. At least that’s what it looked like, white line shining so bright it made my eyes hurt. From the tear in the sky riders came forth, riding down the beam of light like a path to the street blocks away. The colors and sounds told me immediately they were fae. That and the fact that they were riding on a beam of light, a trick I didn’t see many other races attempt. They touched ground several blocks away, but when the lead rider spoke, it was like he was screaming in my ear.

  “Heed our warning: return the Seal or bear the price of war,” he said. “You have until the equinox.” A drop of blood dripped from my nose as his words cut through me. Around me people fell to their knees as his voice tore into them. Ari didn’t seem to be hurt, though she looked straight at him. The gold and maroon of his uniform shone brighter than the sun, and the sound of his horse’s hoofs echoed throughout Kingdom. He turned to each of the four directions and repeated the warning.

  A mounted policeman rode toward the fae, his horse mad with fear, and the fae warrior raised his hand.

  I owe Ari my life. I couldn’t move a muscle but she dragged me backwards, into an alcove. A blast of blinding white light rushed through the street, sweeping back and forth like a searchlight. It cut off, and the street was silent, dead silent. The hoof falls grew louder and louder. The fae rode down the street, looking to see if anyone else dared challenge them. They stopped to look straight at us, and I knew that with a single spell I’d be obliterated.

  Ari stood before me, her fists clenched, and returned the fae commander’s gaze. For a long moment they traded stares without a word. A portal tore open in the sky. He gave the command, and their horses began to climb on the beam of light that shone from it until they disappeared. In the streets of Kingdom lay dozens of bodies, their skin torn from their bones. Old, young, women, and children, it didn’t matter. They were all dead.

  Twenty-Two

  I DON’T REMEMBER how we got home. That trip was exactly the reason I didn’t like shopping. I went out looking for a book and a prism, and I almost got destroyed by the advance scouting force for a warrior race. That’s why I avoided the mall most days. Not that I’d ever seen an army of magical warriors kill everyone on a street before, but once was more than enough.

  I heard Grimm in the mirror as I unlocked the door.

  “Marissa, princess,” he called from the bathroom.

  “We’re okay,” I said, knowing he could hear fine.

  I walked into the bathroom, where Grimm waited. “I found out you two were in Kingdom this morning, and I was greatly worried, my dear.”

  Ari held up the bag with my prism. “Doing a little shopping.”

  “Marissa, did you see the fae?”

  “Saw them. Heard them. Almost got cooked by them. My ears are still ringing. Grimm, I’ve been reading as fast as I can. What’s a Seal? I’m sure the answer’s in a book I should’ve read by now.”

  “It is, my dear, but I believe you’ve earned a little direct education. A seal is a barrier for a realm. In this case, the fae Seal, for the Realm of Fae,” said Grimm.

  “So every realm has one?” I knew there were seven realms, seven royal families.

  “Earth is not sealed, my dear, but all the other realms are. Without their seal, one could cross into Fae anywhere, instead of the agreed-on and prepared portals. One could strike at the heart of a realm and walk away without ever passing a guard.”

  I held up my book package. “I’m only up to about a thousand years ago, but the fae had a lot of enemies back then.”

  “And now,” said Grimm. “They believe someone in the city has rendered them vulnerable, and will do anything to coerce us to return it.”

  Ari tapped on the mirror to get Grimm’s attention. “Who has the Seal?”

  Grimm detested being treated like an aquarium fish, and frowned. “Young lady, if I knew that, I would have already alerted the authorities. Honestly, it isn’t anywhere as best I can tell. This isn’t like Liam’s curse. I knew he was alive, I just wasn’t looking for the right form. The Seal isn’t present at all. Anywhere.”

  “Someone destroyed it?” asked Ari.

  “Killed, young lady. You kill a seal. If they had killed it, we would know for certain. The effect would be unmistakable, and leave a crater the size of an office building. I want you both to stay out of Kingdom and stay away from the Agency. I can’t keep everyone safe, but I will do what I can.” Grimm exhaled, and I wondered for the first time ever what the limits to his power were, beyond his stingy nature.

  “Grimm, you mind if I skip around in my reading a bit?” I asked.

  He looked at me in surprise. “I was certain you would have read the history of the Black Queen first. Of course. Consider it a reward for diligent effort.”

  “Is it the whole story?”

  Grimm began to fade. “No, my dear, but it contains what you want to know.” He left us alone.

  It wasn’t easy to fall back into a vacation rhythm when I knew a war was fast approaching, but I did. It’s not that I didn’t care, it’s that there was so little I could do. Grimm wouldn’t let me come into the Agency, and frankly, I was beginning to feel like I was normal again.

  I sat in the chair each night, reading the history of the Black Queen, which was primarily concerned with who she killed and how (the answers are: a lot of people and in grotesque ways). She wasn’t all that creative either. Thorns through the eyes, thorns through the ears, thorns through the—okay, in some ways she was creative, but it was all the wrong ways. Late one evening, I finally found what I was looking for.

  “Ari,” I said, and she came out with her hair in a towel. “About what the witch said—”

  “You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t matter.” Her tone was cold, and her eyes looked past me, lost in thought.

  I read aloud. “‘She called them, and they came, those who bore her mark, and they knelt before her to receive her blessings. Her handmaidens swept the land like a plague, the shadows that went before and after her.’” I closed the book, tired on so many levels. “The witch said ‘She’ marked me. Can you see it?”

  Ari came over and took my hand. “I still don’t see magic that well, but I don’t see anything. You know what I’ve been reading about? Witches. She told me the truth. We’re the same. Witches were all seal bearers once. Then they started using wild magic.” Her eyes were open wide, her face looked nearly panicked.

  “I thought witches gave birth to witchlings.” I’d actually never given any thought to the matter, but now I understood Ari’s concern.

  “Evil witches can’t have normal children. Their sons are satyrs and the daughters gorgons. Witches were seal bearers like me.”

  I thought about my blessings, and how almost everything they’d done caused me more trouble. “It’s just a name. We decide what we are.”

  She almost smiled at me, but looked away. When she spoke I could barely hear her. “I’m not sure anymore.”

  The doorbell rang, and it was not time for the daily mail. I grabbed my gun and approached the door. “Beatus, Consecro, I might need you.” I had no idea what the little guys would do in a pinch, but from what I read, some curses were capable of pulling your intestines out through your nose.

  I hated peepholes. They required you to put your eye right up to the d
oor and when (not if) something poked a claw through the door, your head was right there. So I had a camera installed a few years ago.

  The man standing outside wore a fine gray suit and showed no signs of rabies or fangs or the normal problems you see in the city.

  Ari looked at him with me. “Assassin?”

  “Doesn’t look respectable enough for that. Probably a lawyer. Either way, go hide.” I put away the gun and opened my door.

  The man reached into his coat and took out a scroll. “I’m looking for Arianna Thromson. I have a message for her.”

  “What is it?” asked Ari, breaking our agreed-on rule that she hide in the bathroom until I gave her the all clear. She took the scroll. Those Kingdom types still wouldn’t use phones or text messages. Ari read the first few lines and her eyes went wide. A tiny sob escaped her, and she dropped the scroll, backing away.

  I stepped into the doorway between them. “She’s not going back, and that is not negotiable.”

  The messenger caught my tone and raised his hands. “I’m not taking her. It’s her invitation to the funeral ball.”

  I slammed the door on him, knowing he was waiting for a tip, and read the scroll. The first bit was your usual proclamation stuff. I skipped over it to the silver writing that identified the actual message.

  We celebrate the passing of King Torsten Thromson, and his rich life, this Friday, the twenty-second, at eight in the evening—her Majesty the Queen.

  Ari lay on the couch and curled into a ball, tears streaming from her eyes. She began to sob and rock as pain finally found a voice. Her tears ran like a river for hours.

  I wasn’t used to having anyone around to comfort me. Agents became best friends with pain, and sorrow rented out every spare room in our lives. So I sat beside her, and held her hand, and listened to the silence. Her sadness found a counterpart in me, and without Grimm or Evangeline watching, I finally felt free to let it out. When she finally fell asleep, I covered her with a blanket and settled into the recliner.

  In the morning, she woke me up to talk, looking at me with eyes ringed red. Her pale skin made the purple bags under her eyes look worse. I sat up and gave her a hug that only caused her to gush more, as though I’d squeezed the tears from her.

  “I have to go, M.” She looked at me, pleading and watching my face as though she thought I might say no.

  “Let me get dressed, I’ll take you anywhere.” I rolled out of bed and winced, a headache born of shared tears.

  “I have to go to the funeral ball. I have to say good-bye. My stepmother will be there.”

  I understood. Ari’s stepmother wouldn’t lay a hand or spell on her under my protection. If her stepmother wanted to try going a few rounds with me, I’d welcome the opportunity. My only real concern was my bad history with celebrations. They almost always ended in disaster, which I attributed to bad luck, and Grimm attributed to me not being able to keep my mouth shut. “We’ll go together. I’ll take care of everything.”

  We sat together in silence, because grief didn’t come with words. I thought about my own family and wondered. Would they have called me if someone died? They hadn’t called for anything else, but part of me felt certain that Mom or Dad would have called if something awful had happened.

  Later I went to my bedroom to make a call. “Grimm, did you know?”

  “I heard, Marissa. Please convey my sorrow to her.” He didn’t bother coming into view, which meant he was doing a thousand other things at once.

  “I’m taking her to the funeral ball on Friday in Kingdom.” I wasn’t asking if it was okay.

  “Of course. Would you like Evangeline to come along? Your track record at parties leaves something to be desired.”

  I thought about the second, and last, time Grimm threw a birthday party for me. I got to find out what a radiation decontamination procedure felt like. The best gifts may be experiences, but that one was definitely not the best present ever. “That would be great. When do I get to come back to work?”

  Grimm snapped into view, his face pale and hair disheveled. “Princess Arianna is my responsibility now, and therefore yours. Take care of her, and I promise I will have you back to work as soon as possible.” He sounded more tired than ever.

  “You find the Seal?”

  “We are looking everywhere.” Grimm’s chin was set, and the look on his face was nearly a scowl. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said the most powerful magic wielder in the city was powerless.

  Twenty-Three

  EVANGELINE SHOWED UP early on Friday, knocked on my door, and marched right past me to squeeze Ari until I thought she would choke her. She stood a foot taller than Ari, but they managed it. Evangeline put her hands on Ari’s shoulders like she was a child. “I brought a dress for you.” Evangeline nodded toward me. “And I’ll keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn’t ruin things.”

  Ari’s voice was hoarse. “Thank you.”

  We dressed, and I understood why Evangeline had brought a new dress for Ari. Almost all of her outfits looked fit for a rave rather than a funeral, but not this one. It was magnificent. Forget sweeping trains and all that; they aren’t comfortable or easy to move in. This was sheer and black with a liquid shine. It looked like someone wove a fabric of tears. Looking at the dress made me sad. On the shoulder it had a golden emblem sewn in thread I think was real gold: her family crest. I preferred black slacks and shirt.

  On the way there Evangeline actually drove somewhat somberly, proof in my mind she was set on being nice. When we pulled up outside the ballroom, my nerves about got the best of me. See, I might have mentioned balls didn’t usually work out well with me. The first one ended with police in riot gear. The second one ended with a fire, and the last one, with the hazmat squad having to wash down everyone.

  Evangeline let us off at the front steps and waited for the valet while we went on in. She didn’t have an invitation, but then again, she never did. Men had trouble saying no to her when she had her veil on, and they had trouble saying anything when she had it off.

  “Lady Arianna,” said the doorman. “I’m delighted to see you.” She gave him a hug, which was completely against ball protocol.

  “The Princess Arianna Thromson, and guest,” called the announcer, and a low buzz swept across the ballroom. Kingdom balls were like high school lunchrooms, except alcohol and cleavage were mandatory. They ran on gossip as much as Glitter, and I’m certain Ari was the subject of many tales. Just another reason for me to dislike them.

  “Arianna,” said a woman, and I felt a storm rolling in. She was dressed in black, of course, and her hair was red like Ari’s, but that’s where the similarities ended. She was as tall as Evangeline, and her eyes were dark brown, almost black. Her makeup was perfect.

  “Gwendolyn.” Ari made no attempt to hide her contempt.

  “I will always be Mother to you.”

  I gave Ari a squeeze. It wouldn’t do to have a throwdown on the stairs. She relaxed a little. “I’ve come to see Dad.” She shook my hand off and disappeared into the crowd.

  “Have we met?” asked the queen, and as she did, I had this feeling. Her voice seemed familiar, her face was alien and repulsive, but I couldn’t quite place her.

  I gave her my best smile. “Of course we have. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” It wasn’t the answer she was expecting, for sure, and I took the opportunity to go after Ari.

  Funeral balls were one of the creepier parts of Kingdom. They’re a holdover from the old days, when people would gather together and bury the dead, but having a coffin at one end of the ballroom inevitably killed the desire to dance near it. Ari stood alone, waiting her turn, and I joined her.

  She latched onto my arm like a drowning woman grabbing a rope. “I can’t do this.” Her makeup was sealed with Glitter, but magic didn’t work well against grief. She was starting to streak from the tears.

  I took her hand and we approached the coffin. As was traditional, a bin of polished rocks sat
beside the coffin, and I took a handful. At one time kings had been buried with diamonds and rubies, but that had two effects: It encouraged grave robbing and it drove up ghoul dental bills. These days they used pretty rocks.

  He was older, starting to turn gray. Maybe in his fifties, but he had a regal air about him even in death, and I thought I could see a hint of Ari’s chin. I left a handful of stones and let her stand by the coffin. She took his hand and leaned in to whisper to him.

  “I don’t think we had a chance to complete our conversation,” said the queen, who had come up behind me.

  I made no attempt to hide the threat in my voice. “Leave her alone. If you put a hand on her, you’ll find out what color the emergency room walls are this week.”

  She sneered, staring down at me like a few inches of height made a difference. “I know who you are. You’re the little tart he sends around to do his dirty work.”

  Evangeline sauntered up, her every step drawing the attention of each man she passed. “I’m the big bitch he sends around. You look like you bruise easily, Your Highness.”

  Ari turned away from the coffin, her face set with determination. “What do you want, Gwendolyn?”

  “You will call me Mother. I want you to come home. It’s time to begin your training, under my care.”

  “I am not coming back.” Ari crossed her arms and stepped back.

  “This discussion is not over,” said the queen, and she reached out to grab Ari’s hand. Several things happened at once. Evangeline swung at the queen’s hand, a simple downward smack with her palm. Evangeline was fast. The queen was faster, pulling her hand back before Evangeline could touch her, and backhanding me.

  The blow wasn’t hard. It caught me off guard and off balance. I fell backwards, my hand caught the rope and pulled the entire vase of stones over on me. I’m telling you, at balls it’s like I’m cursed. The good news was no one was staring at Ari or Evangeline. They all stared at me as I clambered to my feet and walked away. Warm blood trickled down my lip where the queen had struck me.