Casting Shadows

by E. A. Copen

  Sir Braes bristled. “You won’t have anyone coming to your rescue this time, thief.”

  Finn put his hands on his hips and thrust out his chest. “Actually, it’s king now. King Finnegan the First of Shadow. Or maybe your boss didn’t tell you about how I kicked his ass and took back my land. You do work for Mask, right?”

  Sir Braes lifted a hand. “My mistake, Your Highnesses. Three monarchs caught red-handed grave robbing the High Court. Could you three be any stupider? You’ve all but handed me the excuse I needed to execute all three of you on the spot.” The Knight took a step forward.

  Remy drew her sword, prompting all the other guards to move in. “Try it and die where you stand.”

  He smirked. “Is a queen still a queen when she’s been stripped of her land? Word is, you weren’t even there to defend it. Tell me, if you somehow manage to free Summer from occupation, how will you explain your failure to protect your citizens? You did abandon them in their hour of need for selfish reasons.”

  “I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “We don’t have to have this conversation at all.” I put my hand over Remy’s sword, gently lowering it. “We’re not here to fight or to rob graves. I’m here to invoke the Rite of Tír na nÓg.”

  Sir Braes burst out laughing. “You want to invoke the Rite of Tír na nÓg? Oh, that’s rich. As if you’re even worthy.”

  I stood up straighter and balled my fists. “Maybe you don’t know who I am, pal, so I’ll give you a pass just this once. My name’s Lazarus Kerrigan, Pale Horseman, King of the Court of Miracles. I slew the Shadow queen, defeated Shadow in battle, I’ve slain gods, titans, and the Devil himself. If I can do all that, I can pass your stupid test. Be thankful that’s all I want and not your head on a silver platter.”

  His face immediately sobered into a sneer. “Do you even know what the Rite of Tír na nÓg is?”

  “Does it matter?” I shrugged. “If I get through it alive, I get what I want. If I don’t, you get what you want. People keep telling me how dangerous it is. I say, hit me with your best shot. I’ve been through worse.”

  He glanced from me to Finn and gestured to his men. “We’ll see. Take them before Her Majesty. Let her decide if he’s worthy of attempting the rite.”

  The guards jerked my hands behind my back. I winced as hot metal closed around my wrists, pinning them together. Someone gave me a shove forward and I went, but not before memorizing Sir Braes’ face. When I got the chance, I was going to rearrange it so that even his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Of all the courts in Faerie, the High Court was the grandest. It had everything from the other courts—the ivory columns, gold filigree, crystal chandeliers, velvet rugs, and garden views—except everything there was dialed to eleven. The gardens were bigger, the chandeliers grander, the columns taller. Each corridor the guards led us through seemed bigger and more decorated than the last.

  Elves in silk gowns and suits walked the hallways with their heads down. I would’ve guessed they were normal servants except for the black chains clinking around their ankles and wrists. They were slaves, not servants.

  Sir Braes and company took us to a set of giant doors where we waited for two dwarves—also in chains—to turn wheels on either side to roll them open.

  “Is there anybody not wearing chains around here?” I mumbled. “I might not be at the height of fashion, but I’m pretty sure slavery wasn’t in this year’s fall catalog.”

  “They’ll be freed when they’ve accepted their place.” Sir Braes smiled and lifted his chin. “These High Court nobles believe themselves above everyone, even the other rulers of Faerie. But they’re nothing but meat to be devoured. When my master takes Shadow again—and he will—every fae will bow before the lords of madness as our queen has done. The ones you see wearing chains are still learning that.”

  “Why doesn’t Mask just take over their brains and control them like he did with Foxglove?” I asked.

  Braes’ smile faded. He pressed his lips together and stared straight forward.

  Guess I touched a nerve. “He can’t, can he? Bet it’d spread him too thin. I guess even he’s got limits.”

  “For now,” said Sir Braes. “But once he has all the Speaking Stones again, his power will be limitless. The Nightlands will flow into Faerie and on Earth, and all living things will understand we are nothing but food for the old gods.”

  I squinted at the knight. “You got dropped on your head a lot as a kid, didn’t you?”

  He pushed me through the open doors. “Move.”

  If you stacked two two-story houses on top of each other and another two back to back with the first set, all four of them could fit inside the throne room. It was big enough it could’ve fit giants inside. Huge columns held up a domed roof crawling with black vines that twitched and shifted. Purple light filtered in through stained glass windows and reflected off of unlit crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The occasional torch lit the way forward, but there was no other light in the chamber.

  On either side of the crimson carpet running through the center of the room, dark things slithered and crawled just out of sight. Strange shapes hissed and spat while bony bodies scraped over the floor in a cacophony of sound that made me cringe.

  A dais at the head of the room held a single throne, occupied by a woman whose skin was the gray of death. She’d thrown a streak of blush the color of a fresh bruise over each pointed cheekbone and painted her lips black. Her crown looked like it’d been dipped in fresh tar. Black dripped down from the dark metal, coating her forehead and white hair, though she didn’t seem to notice. She sat stiffly in her throne, staring at us with her bloodshot eyes.

  When we got close, Sir Braes kicked the back of my knees and forced me to kneel. Finn fell flat on his face when they tried it with him and Remy spun, threatening to fight back. I shook my head. If she fought, they might kill us, and then we’d never get the stone. The rage behind her eyes died slightly and she went to her knees before the High Queen on her own.

  “Your Highness,” said Sir Braes, kneeling and pressing a fist to his chest. “I present to you the former Queen Remy of Summer, King Finnegan of Shadow, and King Lazarus of the Court of Miracles.”

  The queen stared at us, saying nothing. She didn’t even blink.

  I leaned toward Sir Braes and whispered, “Are you sure she’s still alive?”

  “Silence!” The queen’s deep voice boomed through the hall, loud enough it hurt my ears. She rose slowly, her slate-colored dress draping off her body like a shroud. “Why have you come? Do you not value your lives?”

  I looked around, waiting for someone else to answer. When no one did, I stood with a grunt. “I’ve come to invoke the Rite of Tír na nÓg.”

  Her head shifted as she focused, unblinking on me. “No human has ever attempted the Rite.”

  “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  A long silence followed. The queen floated down from her dais, seeming to move without walking. She left a trail of black sludge behind her wherever she went. “If you survive, I will be forced to grant you any boon you desire that is within my power to give. Tell me, King Lazarus, what is it you desire?”

  “Let’s not get the cart before the horse here. I have to make it through the rite first, right?”

  “True.” She floated up to me and ran her icy fingers along my jaw.

  I shivered. “No offense, lady, but you really ought to try some eye drops for those allergy eyes, and some sunlight would do you good. You’re paler than my Irish grandfather.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

  I shrugged. “I think I’m ok.”

  The queen glared at me a long moment before turning and floating back to her throne. She settled into it, digging her fingernails into the wood before continuing. “All who invoke the Rite of Tír na nÓg and who have royal blood must be allowed to attempt it. I canno
t deny the ancient law of my ancestors. However, be warned, King Lazarus. Your magic will not help you, nor will your strength.” She waved a hand in front of her.

  A section of the floor moved, two stones parting to reveal a set of stairs that traveled down into a pool of clear blue water. I leaned forward. There didn’t seem to be an end to the stairs or any way to breathe. That couldn’t be the challenge, could it? Even fae couldn’t breathe underwater.

  “Go,” the queen barked. “If you dare.”

  I looked at Remy. She nodded. Finn gave me a thumbs up.

  I gripped my staff and walked to the edge of the stairs to take a deep breath. This is going to suck.

  The water was warm, like at a beach. Not unpleasant. The first few stairs were easy. It was when the water got neck high that my brain started screaming about the danger I was in. Water stretched on as far as I could see with nothing but stone above. For a minute, I considered going back up. Maybe we could fight our way to the stone. Not a chance, not with all those creatures from the Nightlands roaming around in the throne room, and that was to say nothing of all the armed guards. I didn’t know what the queen was capable of either. No, going down into the water to begin this rite was the only way to get the last stone. I just had to trust that I wouldn’t drown.

  I took one more breath and plunged into the water.

  The stone floor above rolled back into place and sank several inches, trapping me in the water. I tried to race back to the stairs and come up for a breath, but the sinking floor left no room for that. In a panic, I swam away, searching for another exit. There had to be another exit, right? Finn and Remy wouldn’t send me down here to drown.

  Not unless Mask is controlling them too.

  I pushed the thought away. It didn’t fit. They’d done too much to help me stop him. No, there had to be some other explanation for why they’d let the queen trap me down there and drown. Maybe they didn’t know. God, what if this was it? Of all the ways to go, I never thought I’d drown.

  My lungs started burning. I’d been underwater for well over a minute now, and I couldn’t hold my breath forever. Muscles in my arms and legs began to ache and my head pounded, but still I swam.

  There was no end to the water in sight, no way out.

  In a blind panic, I sent a pulse of magic through the water, hoping it would hit a wall somewhere and open a place for me to wash through. The exit had to be just out of sight.

  Darkness closed in at the edge of my vision, and the pressure building in my chest became too much. Instinct took over, forcing my mouth open and my lungs to fill with water. I choked and tried to cough it out, but there was nowhere for the water to go. Nothing else to fill my lungs but more water.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I came to on a sandy beach with seagulls calling from atop coconut trees. A mild sun warmed my face while cool waves lapped at my feet. I stared into an azure sky for a long moment before I sat up with a groan to look around. The beach was empty of any signs of life other than the gulls, though a wooden dock protruded out into the water about a hundred yards away. Out in front of me stretched an endless blue ocean, the waters calm and even.

  I pushed myself up to stand on wobbly legs. Sand shifted under my feet. I couldn’t help but let my toes sink in and enjoy the feeling. When was the last time I was on a beach? I generally avoided the water since the last few times I’d been near it gods or Titans were trying to kill me. This was…nice.

  “There you are.” I turned to see Emma walking down the beach toward me. She was dressed for a day at the beach in a white bikini top with lemons on it, and a matching skirt. The big, white hat on her head would’ve flown away in the wind if she wasn’t holding onto it.

  I looked around again, confused. “Where am I? What the hell’s going on?”

  She laughed, took my face in her hands, and kissed me long and deep. That alone was enough to almost make me forget everything that’d just happened.

  “You’ve been out in the sun too long,” she said, pinching my cheek. “You’re going to regret falling asleep out here when the sun goes down. That burn is going to sting. Why don’t you come back to the beach house with me? I’ll put some aloe on it.”

  “But the water…the fae. What about Mask?”

  “Who?” Emma frowned and touched my forehead. “Must be the sun talking. We’d better get you cooled down.” The sun caught a big, sparkling diamond on her left hand.

  I grabbed her hand and turned it over, staring at the diamond. It sat underneath a gold wedding band with several smaller diamonds in it.

  Her frown turned up into a tight smile. “I still haven’t taken them off. I did promise, even though they’re heavy. I told you we should’ve gotten simpler rings, though yours doesn’t seem to bother you any.”

  I looked down at my hand. Jesus, there it was. Did that really happen? Distant memories of a wedding sparked, but they didn’t feel real. It left me with a pounding headache. I touched the side of my head. “I think you’re right about too much sun. I’ll take you up on the aloe if I can get a drink with it.”

  “Sold.” Emma took my hand and pulled me through the sand, down the beach to a cute little beach house with big glass windows. We went up the short stairs and through the screen door to stand into a pristine open floor plan kitchen, living room, and dining area, all decked out in white and blues. Emma sat me down at the table and went to the fridge to grab the ice.

  I stared at my hand, trying to focus on details in my memory, but they just slipped through my grasp. “It doesn’t feel real.”

  She took off her hat and left it on the counter. “I know. If you’d told me two years ago I would get married and honeymoon in the Caribbean, I never would’ve believed you.” She placed the glass on the table in front of me. “Of course, a lot’s changed in the last two years.”

  I nodded. “Kind of comes with the territory of being around me. I can’t help but attract trouble, or so you once told me.”

  She chuckled and sat down at the table with me, resting her chin on her hands. “I do remember saying something like that once or twice.”

  We sat at the table for a long time, chatting like we used to. It’d been a long time since the two of us just sat down and talked without worrying about work. I missed those days. After I cooled down, we went back to the bedroom and let our bodies do the talking until it was dark outside. Then we fell asleep.

  I woke in the morning, sure everything that’d happened the day before was just another dream, but I was still in the bed with an ocean view. The shower was running, which meant Emma was there, and all was right in the world.

  Or was it?

  I couldn’t shake the sneaking suspicion that something wasn’t right. Every time I tried to bring it up the night before, Emma just dismissed the idea with a kiss that turned into something more. It was hard to remember to breathe when she kissed me like that, let alone complain.

  I’m going to force her to talk to me over breakfast. I sat up. No more distractions.

  The bathroom door opened, and Emma stepped out in a bathrobe. A cloud of steam followed her. “Everything okay?”

  I should tell her now. Get it over with. But I just couldn’t get it out. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. We had so few peaceful moments, Emma and me. I wanted to enjoy this one for as long as I could.

  I smiled. “No, just tired.” Dammit, why did I say that?

  “Okay. I’m going to go make breakfast. See you there.”

  At the breakfast table, I pushed around a perfectly cooked sausage link and some scrambled eggs, my stomach too upset to get anything down. I was all twisted in knots, unable to decide what to do. If I brought up the wrong feeling in my gut, it could destroy everything. Didn’t we deserve a little happiness after everything we’d been through? Didn’t she? Emma was all smiles, even humming to herself as she sipped her coffee. How could I take that away from her without some sort of proof that something was wrong?

  Emma placed her cup on the table.
“What’s on your mind, Laz? Something’s clearly bothering you.”

  I put my fork down. “I just can’t stop thinking about before. I’m sorry you got dragged into all my weird messes, Emma. I never wanted you to get hurt. Hell, I never wanted to be the Pale Horseman either. I only took the gig because of that body dumped in front of my shop. It feels so random, all the things that had to come together to get me here, now.”

  “What body?”

  I looked up. “Brandy Lavelle. She was crushed to death by the insane goddess Vesta, remember?”

  Emma sat back and crossed her arms. “Must’ve been some dream you were having out there to think up something like that.”

  My heart stopped. I knew that case was real. I’d never been able to scrub the image of Brandy’s crushed corpse out of my brain, or the stain off the front steps. That’s why I’d painted over them. If she didn’t remember that… “What are you talking about? That happened. It’s how we met. You were the officer in charge of the case. You didn’t believe me. Total skeptic until I had to use my magic to save your life.”

  “I’ve never worked homicide, Lazarus. I write parking tickets. You and I met when I tried to have your car towed.”

  “Something’s wrong.” I stood. “This whole thing is wrong. There must be some kind of spell, or something because I know for a fact that’s how we met. I know it as sure as I know my name is Lazarus Kerrigan.”

  Emma stood slowly and touched my arm. “You seem upset. Let’s not talk about magic and spells anymore.”

  “But—”

  Emma put her finger to my lips and quirked her mouth up into a sultry smile before untying the knot that kept her robe closed. It dropped to the floor, pooling around her feet. When she started kissing me, it almost didn’t matter that she wasn’t my Emma. Her skin was soft and smooth like my Emma’s, and she tasted like my Emma. She looked and sounded like her too.

  Everything about this place was perfect, exactly what I wanted. Peaceful, remote, no gods, monsters or magic. We were safe, together, and happy. All I had to do was pretend I believed in a lie.