“Jorge Vasquez’s boy?” Mom peered at Jerome, who nodded vigorously. “Well, that’s a lie. And I’m no fan of liars.”
“He was my father!” Jerome insisted. “Not by his wife, but I’m still a Vasquez!”
“Mmm-hmm.” Mom eyed Jerome up and down, then she dropped a little bombshell of her own. “Jorge was physically incapable of fathering a child,” she said. “Little riding mishap when he was still a boy. He never quite became the man he was supposed to be, if you catch my meaning.”
Jerome’s eyes widened, his mouth working like a fish on dry land. “But… but… when my mother brought me to him, he accepted me,” Jerome whispered. “He never treated me like anything less than his blood.”
“Maybe he thought if he paraded around a bastard, we’d all forget about his most unfortunate accident,” Mom said. Jerome nodded, then he slumped down the cell wall. Something in his defeated posture spoke to Mom, and she withdrew another portal from her sleeve.
“Chin up, boyo,” Mom said, tossing the portal onto Jerome’s lap. “You know how to use one of these?” He nodded. “Good. Go to your resistance headquarters. Find my husband, and tell him to get his arse home before I give him a trim to match Jorge’s. Now, we’ll be off.”
Mom stepped into the portal, Max and Sadie right behind her. I watched Jerome for a moment, feeling like I should say something, but Micah put his hand on my shoulder.
“Come, love,” he murmured. “The portal will collapse soon.”
“It’s okay,” Jerome said. “I need to check in, anyway.”
I nodded, then I grasped Micah’s hands. As I stepped into the portal, I couldn’t help wondering if I’d ever see Jerome again.
23
The portal deposited us in the manor’s gardens, right in front of Selene’s statue. I stared at the statue for a moment—it was so lifelike, I half-expected her to meet my eyes and ask what the heck I was staring at. Micah had done an admirable job when he created this tribute to his mother—the woman who had not only given him life, but had also died to protect him. Though we would never meet, on this plane at least, I was grateful for her.
“Och!”
I looked over my shoulder and saw the silverkin swarming around my own mother. Ever since they had helped her recreate the brugh, they’d decided that she liked them again. One thing was certain—they definitely liked her.
“Micah!” Mom shrieked. “Call off your beasties, or I’ll turn the lot of them into candlesticks!”
“Now, Maeve,” Micah drawled, slipping his arms around my waist, “they only wish to welcome you. You’re the first queen they’ve ever hosted.”
“So that’s what this is about,” I murmured. “I thought they already knew.”
“Apparently, your mother’s royal status first came to their notice while they helped her with the brugh,” Micah replied. “You should have seen them while you were missing—they swarmed about her like bees to their queen, comforting her as best they could.”
“And Mom didn’t melt them down?”
“She worried we might need them to find you.” Micah tightened his arms around me, and we watched the silverkin herd their queen inside. Max and Sadie followed close behind, asking how long it would be before the little silver beings could have some sandwiches and chips ready. My own stomach rumbled, but I was content to stay in Micah’s arms for a bit longer.
Suddenly I felt a tingle at the small of my back, where Micah’s fingers were pressed against my mark. Then his fingers moved, and the tingles followed. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Helping you heal.” Micah dragged his fingers up my back and over my shoulder, taking his time as he traced his fingers across my neck and, finally, to my cheek.
“Healing how?” I asked.
“Your metal,” he said, stroking my battered cheek. Suddenly, the stinging pain was gone, though a few aches remained. I touched my face and felt smooth, unmarred skin. I had known that one’s Element could help them heal physical injuries, especially after what had happened to Micah at the Goblin Market, but I’d never thought to heal myself.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
“Later, I will help you with the rest,” he said. I felt another series of tickle-tingles as the copper worked its way from my cheek back to my mark. “For now, I just want to hold you.”
“I missed this.” I shifted and rested my newly healed cheek against his chest. “I want to stay like this forever.”
“Good, because I am never letting go of you.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.” He lifted my chin, his face suddenly serious. “Unless, of course, there is something you must do. Something very important to you. Something that might be dangerous.”
I bit my lip. “Like helping the resistance.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “If this has taught me anything, it is that I cannot keep you from doing what you think is right. Your decisions are yours alone.” I felt his arms tighten around me, and I curled my head into his chest again, breathing him in as he spoke. “But please,” he said softly into my hair, “whatever you decide to do, please tell me. I may try to change your mind, but ultimately, my love, all I want is to help you, and to be with you. I want to make sure you survive to come back to our bed and be in my arms again.”
My eyes began to sting. No. I didn’t want to cry, not now. “What if when we fall asleep, I roll off the bed?” I pressed, blinking the moisture away.
Micah grinned. “I would wake and lie on the floor beside you, holding you in my arms again.”
“Always?”
“Always.”
Hmm. We should test these theories. Laughing, I slipped free of his grasp and ran toward the manor. After all the stress of the past few days, I needed a bit of play. If the way Micah lunged after me was any indication, he needed some playtime, too. It wasn’t too long before he caught me and we tumbled onto the soft grass together.
“Micah,” I said as he nuzzled my neck, “I’m filthy.”
“I don’t care,” he murmured. I tried wiggling away, but he seemed to enjoy the wiggling.
“I need a bath!” I mean, I really needed a bath. I could smell my own hair, and that was just wrong. “You could come with me,” I suggested.
“Or I could drag you behind the bushes.”
“Micah! Those bushes don’t even reach our knees!”
“Good thing you’re filthy. We’ll blend in with the ground.”
I swatted his shoulder, twice, and he rolled off me, giving me the illusion of freedom. As soon as I sat up he yanked me on top of him and continued his attack from below. A harsh voice from above sliced right through my squealing and Micah’s laughter.
“What are you doing?”
Standing over us was my father, feet planted and arms crossed, glaring at us as if we were fifteen and he’d caught us necking on the front porch. Just as I was about to remind him that I was a grown—and married—woman, Micah spoke up.
“Why have you caused other men to be interested in my wife?” he countered.
Dad frowned, so I explained, “He’s talking about Jerome Polonsky. You gave him pictures of me?”
“How else was he to know who you were?” Dad explained. “Remember, I sent him to watch over you?”
I shrugged—that was Dad, always with an answer. Frankly, though, Jerome and his apparent crush on me were non-issues in my life. “You better get inside,” I said as Micah and I got to our feet. “Mom’s furious, even for her.”
At that, Dad blanched—he was wise to fear her fury. However, this situation was all his fault. If he’d just gotten a message to her or, I don’t know, shown up to let her know he wasn’t dead or imprisoned, he wouldn’t be risking his hide to be in the same room with her. As Dad—slowly—walked inside the manor, I leaned back against Micah’s chest.
“About those bushes,” he began, then I felt his body go rigid. I followed his gaze and saw an envoy from the Golden Court approching, complete with gold warriors, appr
oaching. My, weren’t we popular today.
“I forgot all about this pledging nonsense,” I murmured as we stood. Micah positioned me in front of him, his back to the gold warriors. “Have you been able to hold her off?”
“Only because the lot of you were missing,” Micah replied. The leader of the envoy hailed us, and Micah glared over his shoulder. “Approach no further. I trust you are aware of the consequences of your defiance.”
With that, the entire envoy halted as one, gold warriors and all. “Are they… scared of you?” I asked. I had a hard time believing that Elemental warriors were scared of anything, especially an elf and a woman in their garden.
“If they have any sense about them, they would do well to be terrified.” Micah kissed my forehead and gave me a gentle push toward the door. “Go. Have your bath. I will inform the guard that you are newly returned and attempt to stave off our queen for another day.”
“Please come inside soon.” I tried not to sound too desperate, but I didn’t do a very good job.
“I will, love.” Micah tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “I will not be separated from you again. On that, you have my word.” With that, he kissed my hand and went to speak with the gold warriors. I stepped inside the manor alone, missing him already.
My bath was, in a word, amazing. Incredible. Relaxing. Okay, that was a few words, but after wearing the same clothes for seven days and accumulating layer upon layer of ick, I’d almost given up hope of ever not smelling as foul as the hobos who skulked around the garbage heap at the Goblin Market.
Once I’d toweled off and dressed in some fabulously sparkling clean clothes, I made my way to the dining room and found Mom, Dad, Micah, Max, and Sadie sitting around the huge table. More importantly, the table was heaped with food.
“What happened with the golden boys?” I asked, sliding into the chair next to Micah. He kissed me before he replied, just as a good husband should.
“I informed them that you were newly returned from your ordeal, and begged a day’s respite,” Micah replied. “If Oriana decides against your rest, I am sure we will hear of it shortly.”
I nodded, then turned my attention toward the food. The silverkin had prepared yet another extensive feast, this one featuring comfort foods such as macaroni and cheese, pot roast, and mashed potatoes. Once I’d loaded my plate with assorted carbs, I took in the rest of the scene.
Max and Sadie, who had also bathed, were eating as though they hadn’t seen food in twenty years—man, did I know how they felt. While Sadie had chosen an ample portion of pot roast and a slice of chocolate cake nearly as big as her head, Max was working on a mound of mashed potatoes drenched in gravy along with a side of fries. Can’t have too many potato products, now can we? Mom sat beside Sadie, picking at her plate of poached fruit. Dad sat clear across the table, ignoring the food—and his wife—as he made notations on a small pad. Since everyone else was otherwise occupied, I turned back to Micah.
“Have you seen any more copper people?” I managed to ask while chewing a mouthful of roast.
“I have not,” Micah replied. “They still insist that Sadie should be crowned, but they have wisely stayed far from Oriana’s court. And,” he paused to refill my water glass, “there is still the matter of this family tree.”
“Yeah,” Sadie chirped, “what’s up with that? Some kind of Elemental royal family?”
Micah nodded. “Apparently, it is a record of the royal family that existed in the Otherworld long before Elemental rule.”
“How is that even relevant today?” I asked. Micah raised an eyebrow, so I continued, “I mean, if this family hasn’t ruled for so long, why does it even matter anymore? Meme Corbeau used to say that we were descended from Merovingians, but I can’t go around calling myself the Queen of France.”
Sadie muttered something about France’s continuing lack of a monarchy being the real reason I wasn’t Queen Sara. Micah politely ignored her, and replied, “It matters because Oriana’s enemies are beginning to outnumber her friends.”
I tore off a hunk of bread and chewed thoughtfully. I wanted to tell Micah that I thought that scroll was right here in the manor, but I wanted to tell him privately, away from the others.. “So, if we use this family tree and track down these royal descendants, would that take the heat off Sadie?”
“Perhaps it would,” Micah murmured.
“Then we should concentrate on finding that scroll,” Dad said. “We will need Sadie in the Mundane realm.”
At that, we all stopped eating, even Max. Mom finally asked, “Beau, what do you mean?”
“The resistance needs her, of course,” Dad replied. “We need a strong Elemental in a leadership role. Who better than the Inheritor of Metal?”
“How can she lead the resistance from the Otherworld?” I asked, leaving off the fact that, once Sadie had her library up and running, she’d probably never leave it again.
“That’s something else I’ve been meaning to discuss,” Dad said. “All of us need to relocate back to the Mundane world, the sooner the better.”
The only sound was of Sadie’s fork clattering against the floor.
“Um…what?” I asked.
“The Otherworld is no place for the Corbeaus,” Dad continued. “We are a family of magic, but we don’t belong here. Once we’re back in the Raven Compound—”
“Which has been seized by the government!” Sadie squeaked.
“—we can truly effect change for the lives of Elementals,” Dad finished. He looked around the table, his gaze coming to rest on Max. “Maximilien. Are you with me, son?”
“You know it,” Max replied. He didn’t even take a second to think about it.
“Dad.” He turned to face me. “First of all, I live here, at the manor, in the Otherworld with Micah.” Dad scowled, but I kept going. “Second, we’re fugitives. Is it really a good idea to hang out near all the people who want us dead?”
“The resistance can protect us!” he insisted.
“Like they did the other day?” I demanded. “Great jailbreak, by the way. Even Max’s plans work out better than that did.”
“Hey,” Max said, while Dad continued, “Sadie needs to be seen often, and—”
“Stop!” Sadie shoved back her chair so fast it fell over. “Just stop! Everyone!” For a moment she just stood there, glaring, while her arms and hands shook.
“Everyone talks about making me a queen, a resistance leader, where I should live…but you know what? No one has bothered to ask me anything! I do get a say in my own life!” She glared at us for what felt like an hour, her hands clenching and unclenching. Then she spun on her heel and left.
“She’ll be all right,” Dad said. “She just needs to realize how much the Mundane world needs her.” Dad paused to sip his water, then continued, “The Mundane world needs all of us.”
“Sara is my wife and your daughter,” Micah said. It was the first time he’d spoken during this little slice of family drama. “And she can choose for herself where she would like to live.” I didn’t think I could love him any more than I already did until that moment.
But, of course, that wasn’t the end of it. “Sara belongs with her family,” Dad growled.
“I am her family,” Micah seethed. “And she doesn’t ‘belong’ to anyone.”
“You hardly know her,” Dad retorted. “I was there when she was born!”
“Hey!” I said, getting to my feet. “Dad, don’t you try to rearrange my life, like you’re trying to rearrange Sadie’s!” I glared at my father—I would live wherever I wanted to live, no matter what anyone at that table had to say about it.
“Beau, you are tearing this family in half,” Mom said. “The man I married would have done anything to keep us together.”
Dad sighed. “The man you married has been gone for a long time.”
And the cracks in my heart deepened. It was all too much, way too much, especially when you heaped it on top of the worst week I’d had in a long t
ime. Micah reached for my hand, but what Dad had said about him hardly knowing me rang in my ears. Hell, I didn’t even know how we had really met.
“Too much,” I mumbled, then I left the room without another word.
24
I walked straight out of the dining room, through the parlor, and out the front door, not stopping until I was in the center of the meadow that sloped toward the village. The space was dominated by a large oak, one that reminded me of the fairy tree that stood behind the Raven Compound. I used to go to that tree to think, too.
My mind was spinning, careening in a hundred different directions all at once. I seriously considered digging a hole and crawling inside, hiding until aeverything wrong had itself. Instead, I leaned against the tree and tried to absorb some of its strength. I hadn’t been there long before Micah found me.
“Sara, what is it?” he asked.
“You want me to pick one thing?” I countered, throwing my hands up in the air. “Well, let’s see… I was held captive by Peacekeepers, beat up and pumped with all sorts of drugs, Dad wants Sadie to be some kind of a warlord, I think my parents might be breaking up—”
“No,” he cut in. “There is something deeper. Something with us.”
I bit my lip, wondering how he even knew. But then, Micah had always seemed to have a better handle on what was going on in my head than I did. “Did you do this to me?” I asked, holding up my wrist with the silver mark.
“No more than you did this to me,” Micah countered, displaying the copper that swirled around his own wrist. “Why are these marks upsetting you?”
“Dad made it seem like you forced the silver into me,” I mumbled. “Can Elementals even do that?”
Micah frowned, his brows nearly touching. “First of all, I have never once heard tell of an Elemental accepting a mark from another, metal or otherwise,” he said quietly. “If I had not seen our marks with my own eyes, I would doubt it still.” Micah cupped my face and drew me close to him. “Second, implying that I forced anything onto you is, frankly, repugnant.”
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