by Gwynn White
Taliesin sprawled on one of the sofas. Her soft, feathery purple gown clashed horribly with the pink-and-blue floral covering. “Why do we have to have the stupid parade in the morning?” she grumbled to someone Caeda couldn’t see. Fabric rasped as she fidgeted with her fan.
“It’s tradition, Taliesin.” Dominik strode into the room.
She wiped all expression off her face and followed him.
Impeccably turned out in a pale-gold tunic with fleur-de-lis patterns, and black leggings, Elion sat on a sofa opposite Taliesin. He balanced a plate of pastries on one knee. A steaming, bone-china coffee cup waited at his elbow.
Izanna was the only other guest. Years of silent service stopped her eyes rolling at Izanna’s outlandish dress. With more colors than a rainbow, her hat stretched at least a foot on either side of her head. Her robe, crimson silk, clung to her slender form like a second skin. Clearly, Izanna liked to flaunt in outrageous costumes.
“Oh. It’s you. Dominik,” Taliesin grumbled. “About time. Where’s this new Soul-Reaper?”
Dominik stepped aside, exposing her to the room. “Allow me to introduce Lady Caeda Aerith.”
She wasn’t sure if she should bow, curtsy, stand on her head, or do somersaults, so she saluted.
Taliesin’s fan clacked as she jabbed it in her direction. “That’s what you’re wearing to the parade? Fighting leathers? You look awful.”
Soul-Forged’s laughter skittered through her head. “Priceless! Coming from a sour Fae wearing a flouncy feather duster.”
For once she agreed with him. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Elion clicked his tongue. “Taliesin, have a heart. She’s only been Soul-Reaper for a few hours. The seamstresses probably haven’t had time to make her a gown.”
Taliesin cracked him hard with her fan. “Just because I tolerate you barging in on my breakfast, it doesn’t mean you get to talk to me like that.”
Elion’s face reddened.
Dominik’s gaze ran pointedly up and down Caeda. “I think you look great. Fighting leathers compliment your scowl.” He turned to Elion. “I know you’ve seen him around the palace, but now formally meet my brother.”
Elion set his plate aside and stood. He bobbed a bow at her. “The pleasure is all mine, my lady. And I’m truly sorry you came to this position so abruptly and so cruelly. Ayda was a good friend of ours.”
Even though she’d always considered Elion Dakar a fop, his sorrow at Ayda’s death, as genuine as Dominik’s, warmed her to him. Her lips parted in a rare smile. “Thank you. I would not have wished this on her. Or myself.”
Another bow, and Elion sat.
“As you can see,” Dominik said, “Elion is the only nice Fae in the room.”
“Excuse me, Dominik,” Izanna drawled. “But I take umbrage at that.”
“You take whatever you can get your hands on.” A cutting smile from Dominik. “Caeda, Lady Izanna Krislee. She and Taliesin have been friends for years. But I think you’ve already had the misfortune of meeting her.” He grabbed two plates off the table and handed one to her.
She glanced at Taliesin, unsure if she should dive into the pastries and coffee without permission.
The princess lay back on her sofa, waving her face languidly with her fan.
Dominik tossed a couple of apple-and-cinnamon tarts onto her plate and his. “If you wait to be offered, you’ll starve.”
He poured the blackest coffee into two bone-china cups with a delicate rose pattern. Not bothering with saucers, he balanced them on the plates. His eyebrow rose as he gestured at the bowl of sugar lumps.
She nodded. “Thank you. Four.”
“I could comment that you need sweetening, but I won’t.” He tossed four lumps into her cup. “Because I have the same problem.” Five lumps of sugar splashed into his coffee. Without bothering with cream, he strode to the card table and plunked his plate down on the cards. He yanked out two chairs and shifted the sword on his back to perch on the edge of his. The second chair he kicked toward Caeda with his boot.
She poured some cream into her tiny cup, picked up her plate, and put it on the table next to his. Her butt hadn’t even hit the chair next to him when Izanna wailed. “Damn you, Dominik!” Her ridiculous hat had vanished.
Dominik snorted. “You should thank me. No one should be seen in public dressed like that.”
Her coffee cup, suddenly perched on a perfect saucer, lifted off her plate and landed on the table next to the cards. She flicked the saucer with her fingernail. It clinked like fine bone china—it even had the same rosy pattern. She resisted a smile—he was arrogant enough. “How did you do that?”
“A bit of this and a bit of that.” He waved his apple-and-cinnamon roll at the solitaire layout—it was missing a couple of cards—and at Izanna’s head.
She sat next to him. “So the saucer is a glamour?”
Elion’s laughter made her turn. “Dominik doesn’t peddle in glamours, Soul-Reaper.” His eyes glowed with pride. “My brother is an Element-Fabricator. He creates the real thing from the magic he plunders.”
Dominik chewed on his cinnamon roll as if he’d done nothing extraordinary.
“And Dominik,” Izanna said snidely. “I happened to have had the pleasure of meeting our new Soul-Reaper yesterday. She was with a rather handsome guard.” Izanna winked. “But that was before her elevation to the peerage.” She flicked her silver hair over her shoulder. “Please, Lady Caeda, I beg you, tell us everything that’s happened since the Sword claimed you.”
Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen. “Perhaps you can tell me about your meeting with Ayda yesterday?”
“My meeting?” Izanna’s eyes burned. “Oh, that was nothing compared to what has happened with you.”
Soul-Forged hummed. “Nasty Mistress, the glamour-hat Fae with the party tricks wants something. Greedy, greedy Fae.”
Again, she agreed with him. Breathing in a cloud of powdered sugar, she took a bite of her pastry to quell her hunger pangs. “As far as we know, you were the last person to see her alive before the ball. Apart from her guards, of course.” She flinched inwardly. “And they’re dead, too.”
Izanna sat up so fast the sofa squealed on the carpeted floor. “You’re not implying that I’m involved, are you? And I wasn’t alone with her. Tally was there, too.” She waved her coffee cup at Taliesin. “Weren’t you, darling?”
Taliesin clicked her tongue. “So what if I was? It was victory day. I went to pay my respects to the Soul-Reaper. And Zanny, Dom’s right. He did you a favor. That was a ridiculous hat.” She turned to Caeda. “And as for you, I don’t know why they couldn’t prepare something proper for you to wear. They had my gown ready this morning.”
Taliesin stood and walked to the card table. Pointedly, she pushed Dominik’s cup and saucer off her remaining cards. She gathered them. With nimble fingers, she shuffled so fast, Caeda almost lost sight of what she was doing. She held the cards out. “Soul-Reaper, pick one, but don’t tell me what it is.”
Dominik leaned back in his chair. “More card tricks, Taliesin?”
It was no secret that the princess had no magic. If she found solace in sleight of hand, then so what? Caeda kicked him under the table.
Dominik shot her his wicked grin.
Taliesin swatted the side of his head playfully. “Dom, I don’t moan when you play, so don’t moan when I want to join in.”
“It doesn’t matter what card you pick,” Elion called from across the room. “It will always be the queen of hearts.”
“That’s not possible. I saw the cards spread on the table. It was just an ordinary pack.”
“Less talk and more picking.” Taliesin shoved the pack at her.
While Dominik grinned, and everyone else watched, she picked a card. She glanced at it—a queen of hearts, just as Elion had said—and held it against her chest.
Taliesin’s beautiful head tilted. She tapped her chin with the pack. After a moment, she sai
d, “A queen of hearts.”
Caeda laughed to cover her confusion and tossed the card onto the table. “I’ve never been any good at card tricks.”
“Zanny taught me how to do that.” Taliesin smiled at Izanna with the first genuine affection Caeda had ever witnessed from the princess.
Izanna preened. “The first thing any Image-Meddler with a scrap of talent masters is sleight of hand.”
Taliesin tossed the pack down next to Caeda. She dropped a kiss onto Dominik’s cheek. When he winced, her smile broadened. Hips swaying, Taliesin sauntered back to her sofa.
She quickly riffled through the cards. As she’d said to Elion, it was a perfectly ordinary pack. How had Taliesin done this? Was the princess a card sharp with incredible sleight of hand? Or had someone changed all the cards for her? If so, why? Were they trying to show Caeda how out of her depth she was?
Did that mean someone in this room had killed Ayda and stolen the Bone? If so, she just didn’t know who it was.
“Don’t you mean ‘they,’ Nasty Reaper?”
She nodded, although only Soul-Forged would know why.
Soul-Forged tsked. “I never liked Sour Fae. How can you protect what you hate, Nasty Reaper?”
Feelings don’t matter. It was my duty to protect her for ten years. Nothing has changed because you killed your last handler. Until we know if she’s involved, we will protect her if anyone tries to harm her.
“To be a pawn for them to play with?” Soul-Forged snapped with a seriousness she’d not yet heard from him. “And how many times must I tell you? I would never have harmed Bright Reaper.”
She didn’t have a reply.
Taliesin glided across the room and looked out the window. “I suppose we should finish up here and head down to the parade. The city will be waiting for us to display our new national treasure.”
Display. Her stomach knotted. Where had she heard that word today?
“Me!” Soul-Forged chimed. “That was my word.”
Indeed it was. He had said that the thieves were angry. Something to do with a display.
The parade.
Elion and Izanna stood. Dominik slurped the last of his coffee. He nudged her untouched cup. “Drink up, Reaper. You’re going to need that sugar. The crowds will expect you to smile.”
She bestowed her sickliest, sweetest smile on him. While she chugged her coffee, she turned to Soul-Forged. Am I right? Did you mean the parade?
“Parades. Displays. Fae nonsense. It’s all the same to Soul-Forged.”
Are they planning something?
“The thieves? Of course they have plans and schemes and ideas. Stupid Reaper. They did steal our Bone.”
Thanks. Ever helpful. As usual.
Elion moved over to join them. He held out his arm. “Perhaps my lady will allow me to accompany her to the carriages?”
She opened her mouth to say that Dominik would go with her but snapped it shut. Dominik wasn’t hers, no matter how much he seemed to flout his betrothal. She forced a smile to hide her sorrow at that truth, and took Elion’s arm. “Thank you. I would be delighted.”
Dominik’s eyes burned into her back as she and Elion made for the doorway. She glanced at Taliesin. The princess watched Elion as if he were the only Fae in the room.
Caeda gnawed her cheek, trying to make sense of it all.
She and Elion were halfway down the tower when he asked, “Is that Sword really as heavy as Ayda claimed?”
She brushed Soul-Forged’s hilt. He hung like lead at her side, but she wasn’t sharing that with Elion. “It’s the responsibility, I think, more than anything else.”
“Well, I hope you and Dom find that Bone soon.” His eyes hooded. “You’ve seen Dom’s magic. Our father expects a great deal from him. He’ll never forgive my brother if he lets us all down. So anything I can do to help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
What was it with the Dakar brothers that they spoke so freely about their poor relationship with their father? Nothing on the planet would induce her to tell a living soul about her family. Not even Dain knew her father had beaten her into the military and Zella onto the streets. She intended to keep it that way.
A cold gust greeted them in the courtyard outside the stables. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, now grateful for its warmth. Snow clung to the eaves and roof of the stable block. Carriages, bustling Fae, and horses had crisscrossed the cobbles with slushy tracks. A black open-topped barouche carriage, drawn by four black horses, awaited her. The driver perched in his seat.
Nausea that had nothing to do with the awkward breakfast and sweet food bubbled in her stomach. Dominik was right. Even with all the threats, they expected her to stand and wave to the crowds.
“This is crazy,” she muttered. “I’m a sitting duck waiting for someone to pick me off.”
Elion squeezed her arm. “I’m sure Dom would have mentioned that your life isn’t in danger. The thieves merely want you and the Sword. They need you alive for that.” His fingers brushed Soul-Forged’s sheath.
Soul-Forged yelped. “Nasty Mistress, tell Cheeky Fae that I’m not an exhibit in the Yatres National Gallery.”
She moved, putting distance between herself and Elion. “Dominik’s told you about the investigation?”
“Yes, he has.” Dominik’s warm breath caressed her neck. “And you’re not doing the parade on your own, Reaper.”
She stiffened. He had come up behind her so silently that she hadn’t heard him.
Elion laughed. “He does that. Creeps up on one unawares. That’s what makes him such a suitable guard for you, my lady.” He let go of her arm. “I’ll leave you two to get ready.”
He bowed to her and slapped Dominik on the shoulder. “Be careful. We don’t want any mishaps.”
Dominik gestured to the carriage. “After you, Caeda.”
She didn’t budge. “Which dumb ass decided on this carriage?”
“You don’t like it?” He made a show of studying it. “The color, I admit, is a bit gloomy. But you are the Soul-Reaper, and that does have a macabre ring.”
She folded her arms. “Stop jerking around. You know that’s not what I mean. I might as well put a sign on my back that says ‘attack me.’ And don’t say that an attack isn’t possible. There was a Nyhan straggler in the city yesterday.”
He gripped her bicep so firmly it almost hurt. “Caeda, no one will harm you.” His green eyes bored into her. “Not while I’m with you.”
“You got a crystal ball?” She wrenched her arm away from him. “You can’t know that for certain.”
His already hard face turned to flint. “I know exactly what’s at stake here. Maybe even more than you do. If I must, I’ll rip every bit of magic out of this city to protect you and that Sword.”
“I don’t need melodrama, Dominik. I need a concrete plan for surviving this stupid parade.”
“You tell him, Nasty Reaper.”
“And I have one. But the parade can’t start until you get there, and right now, you’re holding everyone up.”
As if to prove a point, a golden barouche—also open topped—passed them. Bay horses with coats like burnished brass kicked up snow and mud as they trotted for the open palace gates. Dressed in fabulous golden robes, which paled Elion’s fancy tunic, and with their crowns on their brows, the king and queen sat opposite each other. King Kaist leaned forward to glower at her and Dominik.
“Get into the carriage, Reaper.” Dominik’s voice.
She jumped with alacrity. It was only once she’d sat on the black leather bench with Soul-Forged arranged comfortably at her side that she said, “Not funny. What did you do?”
He sat opposite her. “I gave you a command, and the highly trained lieutenant in you obeyed.”
Her driver clicked his tongue, and their horses broke into a fast clip after the king’s carriage.
Dominik tossed his hand up. Even she heard the air sizzle with magic. “I’ve warded our carriage. No one and nothing wi
ll get through it. Happy now?”
“That’s what you said about the wards in the Bone room.”
He crashed back in his seat. “A little trust, please, Caeda.” His eyes were so hard they could have cut glass.
She huffed. What other option did she have? But that didn’t lift her gnawing dread. The thieves had a plan for the parade, and she had no idea what it was.
Or who they were.
Even with wards, how did she protect herself from what she couldn’t see?
11
Soul-Forged’s bone hilt dug into Caeda’s hip as the carriage jolted down the cobbled road, past the maze on the way into the city sprawled at the foot of the hill. Her barouche was sandwiched between the king’s golden carriage and Taliesin’s silver one.
Since leaving the palace, her head throbbed. The pain was even worse than it had been when Soul-Forged first called her. Sweat beaded her face despite the biting cold.
Dominik’s eyebrows creased. “You okay?”
She rubbed her temples. “I’ve been having headaches since this blasted Sword chose me.”
“We must see Garrik. That is the number one priority after this circus.” He waved at a group of young Fae who waited on the outskirts of the city for the first glance at the royal party. And at her. Their new Soul-Reaper.
One of the girls threw a bunch of flowers at her. She ducked, but the bouquet bounced harmlessly back before hitting the carriage. Dominik’s ward had worked. She relaxed her shoulders slightly.
“Thanks accepted,” he said. “Any time you expect a ward, just demand it.”
She glared at him. “What’s your problem? You aren’t the one in the firing line today. Or at any time.”
“Your lack of trust is beginning to grate. And don’t forget to wave. That’s why we’re enduring all of this.”
She flapped her hand belatedly at the Fae.
Damn Sword for putting me through this.
Soul-Forged stirred, glowing a pale blue. “Always happy to help the Nasty Reaper.”
She swore internally at him. Soul-Forged’s laughter crashed through her head. It almost drowned out the clatter of the carriage and cries of joy from the Fae as they surged through the city gates.