Grave Destiny

by Kalayna Price

  His green eyes were so bright, so close, it looked like I could have reached right through the mirror and touched his face. He looked friendly again. Approachable. It wasn’t until I felt my hand moving that I realized my reaction was caused by magic. I balled my hand into a fist to keep it still and cracked my shields, letting my vision slip across the planes. That didn’t work out well for me in this instance, as the spelled mirror was shattered in my grave vision and the spell itself was a swirling mist of shadows among the broken shards. I could see pieces of the king’s face, but the effect was too distracting. I closed my shields again.

  The king studied me. He likely hadn’t missed the glimmer of light that escaped my irises when I’d opened my shields, but he didn’t mention it. He just continued to smile, the pressure of the magic he was exuding heavy against my skin, but now that I knew what he was doing, it was easier to ignore. Falin’s gloved hand slid over mine, his fingers squeezing mine lightly, offering me support. The king didn’t miss that either. His eyes narrowed, the smile losing some of its strength.

  “Visit my court. Let me dazzle you, and I will let you talk to whomever you wish,” he said, amping up the radiance of his smile again.

  I could feel myself wanting to trust him. To think the best of him. I shoved the feelings down hard. If his personal glamour was this beguiling through a reflection, how much worse would he be in person? Then I considered what he’d actually said.

  “Whomever I wish? You guarantee it, my lord?” I asked, and Falin’s hand tightened around mine. Warning? Or encouragement? I wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t looking at me. Lunabella might have been one of Stiofan’s killers, but if she was, she hadn’t been working alone. If she named accomplices in the summer court, it would be good if we had access to them as well.

  “Visit my court. Let us woo you. And yes, you may have an audience with anyone you want. Except, perhaps, the queen. I cannot compel her to speak to you if she does not wish to.”

  I blinked. Not every court had both king and queen, but apparently summer did. I could no longer see any of the females who’d been fawning over the king when this conversation began, but I certainly hadn’t noticed a crown on any of them. None had been Sleagh Maith either. While that didn’t exclude the possibility of them being queen, not being of the noble line of Faerie did seem to greatly lower the odds.

  Those details weren’t terribly important right now. They were just something for my brain to focus on other than the possibility of willingly walking into Faerie again. This time into a different court. One that might be part of a conspiracy to pit the winter court against the shadow court. I fought to keep the frown from my face, but I must not have succeeded.

  “What is troubling you about my proposal, planeweaver?” the king asked, that dazzling smile pressing down at me through the mirror.

  I opened my mouth twice before words came out. “Your offer to let me speak to anyone I wish in your court is generous. But you have mentioned nothing about guarantees of my safety in your court. Nor of my freedom to leave again after I enter.”

  “Clever girl. And they say you’ve only known your heritage a few moons, so either you’re a quick study or you’ve had an interesting few months. Okay, come to my court and I will grant you safe passage for”—he paused, considering—“three days and nights. If you wish to leave, I will let you, but after the cold halls of winter, I think you will find summer quite refreshing.”

  Three days was much more than I needed. Especially since time in Faerie would climb closer and closer to parallel with the mortal realm as the longest night and solstice approached. We only had a few more hours before the festivities would begin, and that would complicate everything.

  It was a good offer. The king was being generous with both protection and safe passage. He really was quite different from the Winter Queen. Far kinder, fairer.

  I opened my mouth to agree, but a wave of cold magic shot up my hand, so frosty it seemed to burn my fingers where Falin’s gloved hand touched mine. I yelped, whirling on him as much as I could in the confined space. He just stared at me, his features carefully blank. I narrowed my eyes and then realized what I’d been about to agree to. The king’s glamour was affecting me more than I’d realized. There was no way I was walking into the summer court alone.

  I turned back to the king, my smile carefully in place. I was going to have to examine everything I felt around this fae. He could manipulate me far too easily.

  “I would require Prince Dugan and the Winter Knight to accompany me.”

  “No.”

  No negotiation, just a no. Behind the dazzling smile that kept trying to bespell me, the king’s expression was hard. I fought to keep my own expression friendly. We needed to speak to Lunabella. The king wasn’t our only avenue, but he was the only one that didn’t involve bloodshed.

  “I would be happy to meet with Lunabella on neutral ground,” I said, and then added, “She should be at the revelry tonight, won’t she?” I smiled more brightly. The king didn’t need to know that our business with Lunabella would be complicated by waiting for tonight. Of course this could simply result in him forbidding her from attending the solstice celebration, but it was a calculated gamble.

  To my surprise, the king laughed. A full-bellied laugh that caused his head to tilt back. I glanced at Falin and Dugan, but they both looked as perplexed as I felt.

  “Your mortal upbringing is showing, little planeweaver,” the king said, and his green eyes crinkled with mirth. “You ask for something and want instant gratification. The revelry is in mere hours. I could hardly plan an adequate visit for you before that time.”

  “A room to speak in would be sufficient.”

  “Then how would I entice you to my court? No, you must see us in all our splendor.”

  Well, crap.

  “Then I would be willing to visit your court twice. I can come now to speak to Lunabella and in the process see what the true nature of your court is. Kind of like popping over to a friend’s unannounced and learning if she only scrubs her toilet when she knows guests are coming,” I said, with a vague gesture to the toilet under my foot. It was spotless, but that had more to do with having a brownie for an office manager than anything to do with my own personal habits. “And I would visit again at a later date, for the three days you have requested. At that time you can try to impress me to your heart’s content. But both times, I require an escort of my choosing.”

  The king sobered, the mirth bleeding from his features. “You have flipped the tables. You have taken my offer of hospitality and twisted it until you are gracing us with your presence. Do you think yourself so valuable?”

  Falin’s grip tightened to the point of pain and Dugan watched me from the corner of his eye. I considered the king. His face was open, inviting, but waiting. Would he fall on the side of taking offense? Should I backtrack and claim that wasn’t what I meant? Or did I want to push on down this road? Making an enemy of a king was a bad idea, but he’d seemed amused by my rougher edges so far. Hopefully that would hold true.

  “You are welcome to wine and dine some other planeweaver.” I delivered the words with a smile, because the only other planeweavers were a pair of changelings in the high court. Currently, I was the only fae planeweaver.

  The moment stretched, my words loud in the tense silence in the small bathroom. Falin’s grip was a vise around my fingers, and if I hadn’t been trying to act as confident as my words, I would have jerked my hand from his. After a dozen of my thundering heartbeats boomed in my ears, and I was sure I’d made the wrong choice, the king laughed.

  “You are interesting. It would be my pleasure to host the fine lady planeweaver and her escorts, once we establish an agreement,” he said. “You may even come immediately and speak to any of my people whom you like. But in exchange, I want your vow that you will visit again on a yet-to-be-determined date of my request, and you wil
l stay no less than three days.”

  I swallowed the knot of apprehension lodged in my throat. Three days in the summer court. I could do that, as long as we negotiated for safe passage. I didn’t want to, but it would grant us entry into summer and give us access to our only lead.

  Chapter 8

  It took nearly half an hour of negotiating before we agreed on the terms of our visit. By that point my legs were cramping and I was feeling rather claustrophobic. I was ready to cheer by the time the king’s face vanished and the shadows parted to show our reflection in the mirror again. Except that meant we now had to go to Faerie again. And I’m contracted to take an even longer visit later.

  Stiofan was still sitting in the middle of my inactive circle when we emerged. He wore his tattered and bloody nightclothes, but at least he was no longer bleeding ghostly blood all over the floor. I knelt beside him and called his name a few times, but he didn’t so much as blink. I didn’t know what to do about a catatonic ghost, so I left him there. It wasn’t like I could take him to Faerie with me. I’d have to talk to Roy later. He was the oldest ghost I knew. Maybe he could make some suggestions.

  “So how do we reach the summer court?” I asked as we headed for Falin’s car. If we had to drive to another door to Faerie, that would eat a lot of our time, and the afternoon was already growing long. Dusk would arrive soon, and with it, the start of the revelry. Which meant all doors to Faerie would open to the winter court and the longest night of the year.

  Falin’s gaze flickered toward me, but all he said was, “Quietly.”

  Dugan didn’t seem interested in expounding on that statement. In fact, he was eerily silent. I twisted in my seat to study him where he sat scrunched in the back of Falin’s sporty car. He looked out the far window when he noticed me watching him, not saying anything or meeting my eyes. What is that about?

  Falin parked outside the Bloom and I raised an eyebrow. Apparently we were reaching the summer court through winter’s door.

  The Eternal Bloom was even emptier than when we’d visited a couple hours earlier. We passed through the hush that fell around us quickly. I even managed not to hesitate at the door to Faerie. I almost expected to emerge in a sunny field when the bar melted around us, as if the desire to reach the summer court would be enough to direct the door—hey, it worked with other doors in Faerie—but the halls of ice materialized around us.

  A squadron of guards blocked our path before we could take more than three steps past the pillar of carved ice that marked the door between the mortal realm and the winter court. At least they didn’t draw weapons on Dugan this time.

  “The queen is still in her library,” the leader of the guards said.

  Falin acknowledged her words with a nod, but all he said was, “We are continuing our investigation. I will not disturb the queen until we have more information.”

  It was a dismissal, and the guards took it as such. They didn’t ask about our investigation, or even where we were going. They stepped aside, allowing us to pass. Falin said nothing more as he took off down the seemingly unending halls of ice. I stuck close to him, biting my tongue to resist asking more details on how we were getting to the summer court. Getting there “quietly” clearly meant he didn’t want the queen forewarned. I had no doubt she would know soon enough. Her ice golems lined the halls, waiting for her command to come to life. I had no idea if they could actually see when not activated, but I could feel eyes on my back as we hurried down the halls, so I had no doubt we were being watched.

  We walked for what felt like a very long time. The archways and golems we passed all looked identical, as if we were walking in a large circle, except the hall rarely turned and never curved. It was just an endless corridor. When we turned a corner and the hall ended in a large double door, I almost stumbled in shock.

  The doors were solid ice and carved with the same kind of intricate scenes as the pillar that tied the winter court to the amaranthine tree at the Eternal Bloom. A large oak tree made up the door’s frame on the right, and an equally large ash tree made up the frame on the left. The frozen branches met over the door, twisting and tangling together with large icicles dangling from their frozen bark. Guards stood on either side of the doors. They shuffled as if nervous as we approached, but they did not stop us. Their job was not to prevent fae from leaving the winter court, but to stop intruders.

  So if Lunabella was present at Stiofan’s murder, how did she get inside? And for that matter, how was Kordon’s body brought into the court?

  Falin nodded to the guards as he hauled open the large ice doors. Swirling white mist filled the doorway, snowflakes dancing between the arching trees, obscuring what was on the other side. Falin turned toward me and held out a hand. As doors were odd in Faerie, and didn’t always lead to the same place or time, and as I didn’t know where we were going beyond a vague “to the summer court,” I didn’t hesitate to take his offered hand. When he stepped forward, I matched him step for step, walking into the mist.

  We emerged in a small clearing inside what appeared to be a dense grove of trees. I glanced back over my shoulder. The intricate ice door was still there, identical to what it had looked like on the other side, the oak and the ash supporting it. But now those trees were freestanding, surrounded by similarly snow-laden trees. But with each tree farther from the door, the trees began to change.

  On one side, the frost thinned, brown leaves still clinging to some of the branches instead of icicles. And farther in, leaves in the brilliant golds, reds, and oranges of fall. As these trees reached their pinnacle, oak and ash once again met, with dark wood doors between them. I wasn’t close enough to clearly make out the scenes carved into them, but I guessed they depicted fae gathering harvests, falling leaves, and other autumnal scenes. The door to the fall court, no doubt.

  Heading in the opposite direction from winter’s doors, the frost thinned, and buds appeared on the trees, followed by flowers and fresh green shoots. Where the oak and ash met on this side, the door was covered in blooms, a mosaic of flowers that depicted fae waking trees and tending freshly sprouting plants. Spring’s door.

  I turned. Directly across and opposing winter’s door was summer’s door. The trees surrounding it had deep, strong green leaves. The doors the oak and ash surrounded didn’t appear to be doors at all, but grass, heather, and mushrooms on a hillside. If there were carvings in the door, I couldn’t see them from where I was.

  Dugan stepped through the winter doorway, and the doors closed, blocking the mist and snowflakes of winter. I dropped Falin’s hand and stepped to the center of the small clearing, turning to take in the entire scene and the seasons that transitioned seamlessly from winter to spring to summer to fall and back to winter again. This was where all the seasons mingled, and it was beautiful. As I looked around, I realized that there was a warm brightness that seemed to emanate from between some of the trees, while others had an endless darkness. There was no rhyme or reason for these spots. No source for the light or shadows.

  “Are those paths to the light and shadow courts?” I asked, gesturing toward the two different patches that would have touched each other if not for a single thin birch tree separating them.

  Dugan nodded. “The court of light and the court of shadows both touch all the seasons, but are part of none of them.”

  I looked around. That seemed accurate, as the light and darkness appeared in every season’s part of the grove.

  “There are more paths of light than shadow,” I observed idly, and Dugan grimaced. Then he turned to glare at the light in the grove, as if he could will the shadows to overtake some of the paths.

  “I meant no offense,” I said when his glare took on a ferocity I hadn’t previously seen in him. It wasn’t aimed at me, but it was startling to see on the typically stoic fae, and I was reminded once again he was a prince of Faerie and not actually an ally.

  Dugan waved a dism
issive hand, but I wasn’t sure if he was waving away my words or using the motion to rid himself of his own thoughts. Whichever was the case, his dark features returned to a brooding neutral.

  “Faerie is out of balance,” was all he said as he swept past me, heading toward the summer door. His dark cloak whirled behind him, the shadows crawling outward around him, but they avoided the streams of light.

  I gave Falin a questioning look, but he only shook his head and motioned toward the door. I looked around the clearing one more time. The seasonal courts might ebb and flow in power throughout the year, but they looked perfectly in balance here. Light definitely dominated shadows, though.

  I started toward the summer door and then stopped short, looking back. “Where is the door to the high court?”

  Was I just missing it? Like I had the paths to shadow and light at first? If I could return to this clearing after the case, take a door to the high court, and petition to study with their mortal planeweavers . . .

  Falin shook his head. “It’s not here.”

  “So where—?” I started, but he only shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” he said, and we both turned to look at Dugan.

  The prince frowned. “Only Faerie monarchs are privy to knowledge about reaching the high court.”

  “And Faerie princes?” I asked, trying not to sound too imploring. If Dugan couldn’t help me even if we solved these murders, I was back to placing all my hope on the favor my father had dangled in front of me.

  Dugan’s frown only deepened, and he didn’t answer. Instead he leaned forward, placing his palm against the plot of hill that served as the summer door. This close, I could see that the grass and heather tumbled in an unfelt wind, and as it moved, the twisting flora created shapes. I caught images of fae swimming and dancing, and then I saw an elaborate scene of a very large orgy and decided to stop looking. I was far from a prude, but little twisting blades of grass shaking and shivering to form tiny people getting it on was just weird.