“It’s amazing,” Mom murmured, looking over the roughly hewn table made to look like the very one she had once feasted at as the Queen of the Seelie Court. “Beau will be amazed to see it here, so far removed from Eire.”
“I bet he will be,” I murmured. The Dad I remembered was a happy yet serious man, not one who was easily surprised. Still, I wondered how he would react to a version of the brugh here in the Otherworld. I hadn’t known him when he was a scrappy young thing, as Mom had once so eloquently put it, so maybe he wouldn’t enjoy the surprise. Even so, what man wouldn’t want to recreate the night he’d met his wife?
And, if the deep voice hailing us was any indication, it seemed that the man in question was making his way toward us.
“Don’t let him see me!” Mom shrieked, patting at her disheveled hair. “Or the brugh!” With that, she ran off like a schoolgirl to primp for her man. I didn’t even try to fight my smile as I walked through the trees and met Dad.
“What’s going on out here?” he asked, trying to peek over my shoulder.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” I said, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around. He turned easily, not like the father of my youth who was an immoveable bearded mountain. My present father, though, preferred being clean-shaven. And I was a lot bigger than the seven-year-old he’d left behind. “What’s up with you?”
“I have decided that you and Max should accompany me to the Mundane realm again,” he said. “The presidential election draws near, and I would like to disrupt the government’s agenda as much as possible.”
In my opinion, anything that disrupted Mike Armstrong becoming president of Pacifica was a good idea. I opened my mouth to say that I’d go tell Micah about our plan, when I remembered what he’d said before: that I had no ties to the Mundane realm, a realm I’d lived in for almost my entire life. Would he even care about the nearing election or the Mundane government’s agenda? It didn’t seem like it. And my father needed my help.
“All right,” I said, silencing the small voice in the back of my head urging me to tell Micah. If I did, he wouldn’t let me go. It was better if he didn’t know at all. “When do we leave?”
Dad and I collected Max, who was always up for a bit of troublemaking. After Max and I put on knit hats and dark glasses similar to the ones we had worn to Mike Armstrong’s political rally, the three of us portaled over to Capitol City. Since Sadie had only made two hats, Dad was going to have to make do with just glasses.
Interestingly, Capitol City was once called Portland, but not for any magical reasons—it was built alongside a lovely natural harbor, or port. After the magic wars had ended, any place names that were even vaguely magical were changed to the most boring things imaginable; thus Portland became Capitol City.
But it didn’t stop there. Portland had never been the capital of anything, not the country or its state or even its county. In fact, Portland was nestled in the far northeastern corner, home to sweltering summers and bone-chilling winters—really, no one in their right mind would have made it the capital of anything. Which is pretty much why Elementals had migrated to Portland in the first place.
However, the actual capital was deemed to have had too much magic worked in it for too long, and the new regime didn’t want to take the chance of a mage sneaking up on them unawares, much like how the last pre-war president had hidden his Elemental abilities from his closest associates. Maybe he should have tried a hat and glasses—the disguise seemed to work pretty well for Max and me.
Dad, Max, and I wandered up and down the streets of Capitol City for a while, reading flyers, staring into shop windows, and trying to look inconspicuous. After about an hour of this, I asked my father what we were really supposed to be doing.
“This,” Dad replied. “I need to make my presence known. Those who are pro-resistance, and pro-Elemental, won’t rally without a leader.”
“And you’re that leader?” I asked. I’d always known that Dad was high up with the war mages, but I’d never known he was their leader. Before he could answer, Max tapped me on the shoulder.
“Sis,” he said. “here comes your boyfriend.” Max jerked his chin to the side, and I saw a full complement of Peacekeepers marching toward us led by none other than Jerome Polonsky.
My stomach plummeted to the ground, leaving me so breathless I couldn’t even remind Max that Jerome had never been my boyfriend. Not only did Jerome know exactly who I was, since he’d blatantly hit on me every time we’d met, but my family’s images were still playing on vid chips throughout the city. There was no doubt in my mind that Jerome recognized us, and that he’d soon be aiming one of those plastic weapons specially made for use against Elementals at us. We were screwed.
I glanced over my shoulder—there was only a brick wall behind us, no door. We were going to have to portal right there, on the street and in front of everyone, to escape. We weren’t just screwed—we were totally screwed.
Then, to my utter horror, Dad took off his dark glasses and stared Jerome right in the eye. Just as Max whipped out a portal of his own, Jerome acknowledged Dad with a deferential nod, and he barked an order for the company to take a quick left, away from where we stood, sitting ducks. When my heart started beating again, I asked Dad what all that was about.
“Corporal Polonsky is one of my men,” Dad replied.
“You mean you know Jerome?” I was stunned. What other creeps has my father been hanging out with?
“Of course. He’s one of my best operatives.” Dad set his glasses on the top of his head, and we began walking toward the financial district. “You and Jerome dated?”
“No,” I replied, ignoring Max’s sneer. “He stopped my car once and asked for my ID, then he tried to scam a date. I’ve only seen him two other times, and he was creepy each time.”
We approached a coffee shop, and I entered without a second thought. If I was going to spend my afternoon in the Mundane World, closer to Jerome than Micah, the least Dad could do was buy me a coffee. Once we had ordered—cinnamon cappuccino for me, black coffee for Max—we waited at the end of the counter.
“Corporal Polonsky is a good man,” Dad said, out of the blue. “I would be very pleased if you and he were together.”
“Dad.” My tone was harsh, but I meant it. “I’m married.” I held out my left hand, showcasing the sparkling emerald on my ring finger.
“Of course,” he said. “I was only speaking hypothetically.”
Our drinks were delivered, but when Dad took his cup there was a tiny paper tag dangling from under the lid. “I think they messed up your order,” I said. “They gave you tea instead of coffee.”
“No, it’s Earl Grey tea,” Dad replied. “I always order Earl Grey.”
With that, Dad strode on ahead, leaving me and Max to gape after him. The man who was single-handedly responsible for his children’s caffeine addictions had ordered tea, not coffee, on purpose. Granted, tea had caffeine, and I enjoyed a cup or two on occasion, but it just wasn’t the same as the black liquid bliss that was coffee.
I guess a lot of things change in sixteen years. “Did you know?” I asked Max as we followed Dad out the door. “About Jerome?”
“Nah,” he replied, taking a swig of his coffee. “But it makes sense if you think about how we got away that time at the Promenade.”
“Shouldn’t Jerome have told us?” I pressed. “Given us a sign or something?”
“Not if he had orders otherwise.” Max pulled out a pack of gum and offered me a piece. Normally I don’t chew gum, especially not when I’m drinking coffee, but hey, we were doing all sorts of irregular things today. As I shoved the brittle, sugary stick in my mouth, Max continued, “You’ll see. Dad always knows what he’s doing.”
I nodded, then I spit the disgusting fake-peppermint gum into a trash container, hoping that my cappuccino would kill the taste. As my eyes slid from Max to the copper-haired man walking before us, I wondered what exactly he was in control of.
&n
bsp; 9
Max and I followed Dad around Capitol City’s financial district for a few more hours, and I was never once sure of where we were going. I mean, I knew what direction we were headed in, but our path had no rhyme or reason. Through it all, Dad walked along with purpose, and Max followed him like a good second-in-command, but the third time we passed the bank, the jig was up. Dad was lost.
Mind you, not that I called attention to this, mostly because more weirdness was afoot. Every three blocks or so we happened upon Peacekeepers, either alone or in groups, all of whom stepped aside to let us pass. As a rule, Peacekeepers tended to have the manners of a pissed-off honey badger, so all the courtesy, not to mention the lack of us being arrested, had me a bit on edge.
Finally we found ourselves crossing an old parking lot, the empty space around us assuring me that we were far from prying eyes, ears, and listening devices. “So, Dad,” I said, “where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” he replied. “We just needed to walk the streets to show those sympathetic to our cause that I have returned.”
“I thought you’d been in contact all along,” I said.
“Only with the upper echelon,” Dad replied. “I still need to make my presence known amongst the lower ranks, like your friend, Corporal Polonsky.”
“He’s not my friend,” I muttered, but Dad or Max weren’t listening to me. My feet were aching from the pavement pounding, my head throbbed, and all I could think about was Micah. The fire of my anger had ebbed to cinders, and I was willing to admit that maybe I had overreacted. Not that I would admit as much to him, but I was willing to listen to what he had to say. And, frankly, I missed my husband.
Luckily, Dad felt that he had displayed himself enough in the Mundane realm, and soon we were stepping through the portal and into the Otherworld, specifically the gardens behind the manor. My first thought was to look for Mom, thinking she should be long since ready for her and Dad’s date at the brugh in the back orchard. Instead, we were greeted by my frantic, disheveled sister who was practically leaping out of the front door to meet us.
“They took him!” Sadie shrieked. “They just walked right up to the door and took him!”
I opened my mouth to ask her who was taken only to shut it with a clack. Micah. “What do you mean, they took him?” I demanded.
“Gold warriors just walked up, knocked on the door, and said that Micah was being apprehended for crimes against the queen,” Sadie explained. Mom, dressed not for a date but in jeans and a sweater—her version of battle armor—exited the manor and stood beside Sadie. “Oriana’s voice came through one of them. She said something about Greymalkin’s death and me not pledging to her.”
“I thought we worked all that out,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, well, she’s nuts,” Sadie said. I nodded, my eyes sliding to Mom, silently asking her why she let the gold warriors take Micah.
“I extracted an oath from Oriana,” Mom replied. “He’ll be treated as an honored guest until you and Sadie arrive at her court.”
“And you believed that?” I asked.
“Beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Mom replied. “A queen’s oath is sound.” Of course Mom would say that, being that she was a queen herself. While my mother was nuts in her own way, she certainly held it together a lot better than Oriana.
“All right,” I said, steeling myself. “It seems that we’re all going to the Golden Court.”
“Is that wise?” Dad asked. “You may be playing right into her hands.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “She has Micah—we have to go.”
I called the silverkin, and after I gave Shep a few quick instructions, I turned to leave. Much to my surprise, my father had no intention of coming with me to rescue my husband.
“It’s foolish for us to all go at once,” Dad explained. “Leaving a flank in reserve is a better option.”
“A flank of one?” Sadie muttered. Dad glared at her, but let the comment slide.
“Fine!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “Wait here while we rescue Micah without you.”
“If you don’t return by sundown, I will follow,” he assured. I nodded, calmed by the fact that at least we had a backup plan if something went wrong at the Golden Court. When Dad said something about Max staying behind with him, my brother just shook his head.
“Can’t do that,” Max said. “If it wasn’t for Micah, I might still be the Institute’s favorite lab rat.” I noticed that Max wouldn’t look at Dad while he said it, but Dad was nonplussed.
“Pay your debts, son,” Dad said. “As I’ve always said, Baudoin Corbeau pays his debts.”
I didn’t remember Dad ever saying that, but whatever. Maybe he’d taken up gambling over the last decade and a half, probably around the same time he took up tea drinking. Then, the four of us were out the door. Thanks to the metal pathways, a few heartbeats later we were standing before the shining entrance of the Gold Court.
“A bit gaudy,” Mom murmured as we strode inside, none of us bothering to give our names. It’s not like we weren’t expected. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think—all I knew was that Micah was at the end of this endless hallway and that he needed me.
We burst into Oriana’s throne room and found Micah seated at a small round table, having tea and cake with the lunatic queen. Okay, perhaps his predicament wasn’t quite as dire as I’d expected.
“Micah!” I cried. He stood as I rushed forward. A gold warrior stepped in front of me, and I darted around him, muttering something rude about melting him down for jewelry. Then I was in Micah’s arms, thanking all the gods that ever were that he was safe.
“What happened?” I demanded. “I got back and you were gone! Sadie said—”
“Yes, I was apprehended,” Micah murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Luckily, your mother brokered the excellent terms of my imprisonment.”
“I said that if she did more to Micah than have tea and scones with him, I’d see her head placed atop a pike,” Mom said, coming to stand next to us. “I told you a queen’s oath was sound,” she added, nodding to the tea service.
“I have never gone back on my word, though my cook has no notion of what a scone might be,” Oriana said in a huff. “Cake was all he could manage on such short notice.”
“She was quite put out for a time,” Micah murmured. “When at last I told her that cake would do, she nearly fainted with relief.”
“What a good prisoner you were,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
Oriana rose from the well-appointed table and descended the dais. She was wearing the parchment-colored robe that we’d last seen her in, but this time it was open, and she wore a long blue gown cinched with a gold belt beneath it. If I hadn’t been so incensed, I would have mentioned how the gown complemented her eyes. “Surely, Maeve, you knew I wouldn’t. Of all monarchs, you are well and truly aware of the power of an oath or two.” Oriana went on, babbling praise for my mother. I wondered if she’d ask for an autograph.
“What kind of a queen were you?” I whispered.
“Bloodthirsty,” Mom replied, loudly enough to startle Oriana into silence. “I find that thirst’s not yet quenched. Goldie—”
“Oriana,” the queen corrected. Not that Mom cared.
“Why have you seen fit to apprehend the Lord of Silver?” Mom finished. “And to carry him off while his wife’s away, for shame.”
“I had no choice,” Oriana insisted. “What if they continued to plot against me?”
“They?” It was my turn to demand answers. “They who?”
“Why, Micah and the Inheritor,” Oriana replied as if the answer was obvious. “I must know if there is treachery afoot.”
“Afoot?” I repeated. “Weren’t we just here this morning, denouncing all such treachery?”
“Yes, yes, you were,” Oriana allowed, “but I have been waiting since then. I do hate to wait.”
Before I could start screaming, Micah murmured in
my ear, “Since we departed, she has been expecting Sadie to arrive and pledge her loyalty.” An image of Oriana, waiting by the front door for the Inheritor of Metal to pop by, bubbled to the forefront of my mind. I laughed and burrowed deeper into his arms.
“Is that what this is all about?”
“You see, love, whenever you walk away from me in anger, bad things follow,” Micah said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Never leave me again.”
“Never?” I asked, cocking my head at him. “I walked away so I wouldn’t yell at you.”
“I would rather endure a lifetime of your shouting than another moment of this insanity,” he replied. I laid my head on Micah’s shoulder—after the ridiculous time I’d just spent in the Mundane realm, I agreed.
Oriana cleared her throat, reminding Micah and me that there were other issues at hand than our quarrel. I leaned around Micah so I could see the queen and asked, “So, why didn’t you take Sadie as well? She’s the one you’ve got a beef with.”
“Hey!” Sadie protested, but Max hushed her. After all, it was a good question.
“I did not wish to anger the Seelie Queen by apprehending her daughter,” Oriana explained.
“Yet you found my son-in-law to be fair game,” Mom observed. “Foolish, Goldie, very foolish.”
Oriana stared at Mom, then at Micah, as if just now making the connection that if Maeve was my mother, and Micah my husband, Micah was Maeve’s son-in-law. And this rocket scientist was our queen. Oriana began a stammering, babbling apology, but Mom waved it away.
“If you want Sadie’s oath, she’s here now,” Mom said, indicating her youngest. “Take it up with her.”
Oriana drew herself up, mustering her last remaining shreds of dignity. “That would please us.” As Oriana ascended the dais to her throne, movement to my left caught my eye. Ayla, the Inheritor of Fire, rose from one of the cushioned benches and followed Oriana up the steps. Just as I was about to ask why Ayla was here, being a human of fire and no connection to metal, she helped Oriana loosen her collar and expose the skin over her heart. Based on the familiar expressions exchanged between them, it wasn’t the first time she’d done so.
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