by May Sage
“All right. That’s… a strangely fascinating tale. But the fact remains: I fail to see the point of hearing it tonight.”
“Impatient,” the queen chastised him, clicking her tongue.
He was, which had something to do with the fact that he’d depleted his energy less than an hour ago. He needed food, rest, maybe a fuck too. Not a lesson.
Still, if Shea believed he had to hear it, he had to hear it. “Sorry, go on.”
“Some of the gods remained here on the Isle. They built a stronghold in the cold of the north. You know it. You’ve seen it.” As Vale remained silent, she explained, “The city of crystal.”
His mouth opened and closed again, as he found no protest. The white city with its shining high walls had seemed foreign to him. He didn’t recognize the materials, hadn’t understood the devices and the transports people used. Everything was strange about it—both ancient and too advanced.
He’d always thought of it as a place from another world. Alien.
His mother was still recounting her tale. “For a time, they lived there quietly, but it isn’t in their nature to stay idle. The human population had considerably decreased. Where there used to be billions, there were only thousands. The air had become toxic, changing the very core of the human constitution. Physically, they changed, but that wasn’t the problem. Their previously rapid reproduction rate slowed down considerably. Many young died before they came of age. It was easy to see that the race might soon become extinct. So the gods fixed it.”
“Fixed it?” Vale was confused.
“Tweaked a thing or two on a cellular level. Modified a few genes. Made the mortals longer-lived so they had the time to reproduce again. They didn’t stop there. Some were made prettier, a little more like them. Eventually some could even bind energy and matter, just like them. Others were blessed with wings. Some experiments didn’t go as well, of course….”
Despite his exhaustion, and the slight headache he suffered from, Vale had finally connected the dots.
“You’re talking of the castes. Lesser fae, common fae, high fae.”
Shea nodded. “Imagine a teacher grading a paper. A lesser fae is an experiment gone wrong. A common fae is deemed acceptable. High fae are successful test subjects. Elves were the last creatures they made, once they’d perfected the process.”
Vale couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re saying we were nothing more than lab rats to aliens who played at being gods?” The notion was enraging.
“No, Valerius. I’m saying our people were nothing more than lab rats. You and I are descendants of the gods.”
Spotting a full glass on the queen’s desk, he asked, “Is that alcohol?”
“Water.”
He sighed. “All right. Explain.”
“There were only a few gods in all of Ertia. Fifty, perhaps fewer. No more than a handful chose to live in the Isle. Most of them paired with high fae at some point during their long existence, giving birth to half-bloods. Scions, we’re called. Those children were exponentially more powerful than the fae who’d been genetically modified to have those powers, needless to say. The Blackthorns are one of the first of those lines. There’s perhaps a sixteenth of divine blood in my veins, but it makes me who I am.”
One of the most powerful fae in the Isle.
Vale would have loved to find something illogical in what his mother was saying, but all of it made too much sense. He sincerely wished she’d told him all that when his cerebral capacity was at its optimal level; right now, he just hoped he’d taken in all of it to reanalyze it later.
“So, if there’s a sixteenth of their blood in your veins, that makes me a watered-down version of that?”
But even as the words crossed his lips, he knew how wrong they were. No. If Shea was indeed some sort of demigod, then his father, the overking of the Isle, was just the same.
Or worse.
“Are you telling me my father is one of those gods you speak of?”
Shea inclined her head in concurrence. “Indeed. And most of those who now live in his realm are either gods or their direct descendants. The rest of the Isle call them fae and they laugh at it. They’re right to. Don’t get me wrong, Vale, I can hold my own against anyone in this realm. I can defeat any seelie. I may even bring down some elves. But they’re another matter. The weakest scion is worth ten high fae in battle. As for your father….” She hesitated. “He didn’t wish to get involved in the War of the Realms. Corantius stayed out of it. It was his belief that they’d interfered with our fate enough. That the gods ought to leave mortals to their affairs. The moment he changed his mind, demanding peace, everyone bowed, because his kind could have killed us all with absolutely no effort.”
Vale’s mind went to the fae in the dungeon. Or the demigod. Had Shea said scion? Whatever he was. Kal had told him he’d grabbed a simple foot soldier, and yet Vale had had some trouble reading past his defenses. He’d needed to push hard.
His mother’s words changed everything he knew, and yet explained so much.
Still.
“I don’t get it,” he said finally. “I mean, I understand everything you said. I’ll admit that it makes sense, strangely. I just don’t get why there’s a scion amongst the seelie guard. It feels… underhanded. If they could just kill us all, why the sneakiness? It makes no sense.”
“I didn’t say I had all the answers. I simply wish you to understand what you’ll have to face.”
Silence stretched as he considered everything.
Finally, he concluded, “This doesn’t come from the overking. If Father had wished for war, he’d come at us directly. And by the sound of it, we’d be utterly screwed.”
Shea smiled. “Indeed. Thankfully for all of us, your father believes in peace.”
“But not everyone among his people is the same. Someone from the realm—someone high in the hierarchy—is pulling strings.”
“That is also my belief. Now, son, I have given you much to think about for a night. And you do look quite exhausted. Go and rest.”
“I will if you tell me there’s a plan in place so we come out of it alive.”
The queen chuckled. “You should know me better by now. There’s always a plan.”
He got up and moved to leave, but at the doors, he hesitated.
“Tell me, Mother, where does Devi Rivers stand in your machinations?”
The queen held his gaze. “Well, I never. You do like the girl,” she said, laughing.
“Let us not pretend that it wasn’t your doing.”
“It wasn’t,” Shea replied unequivocally. “And to answer your question, son, Devira is at the very center of it. Just like you.”
He didn’t like that. Not one bit.
“You’d put a youth who hasn’t seen her first century in the way of harm?”
If one thing could be said of his mother, it was that she didn’t hide who she was.
“I’d throw a thousand youths in the way of harm to protect the realm. I am queen, Valerius. One day, you’ll understand what that means.”
Hopefully he never would.
Twelve
A Red and Gold Storm
The dream had changed. She was still drowning, but then the sun flashed above water, so bright she had to close her eyes. When she opened them again, the three children had disappeared. In their stead, there was a figure—a male, she would have guessed. His face was unclear, but he had dark hair, and he smiled, extending his hand to her.
Devi wanted to take it more than anything, let him pull her to the surface, but her wrists were bound at her back.
She woke up sweating, her breathing erratic. Her room was intact this time, window and all.
Devi frowned. This dream had little to do with her memory. If anything, it seemed like a clearer warning.
She knew three men with dark hair like the shadows in her dream. Three men who smiled and fancied themselves her champion of sort. Rook—and every god knew there was no cause to be wary of him—Drake Ni
ght, and Valerius Blackthorn. What did the dream warn her of exactly? Relying on one of them, or not putting her trust in them? She shook her head, chasing away the nonsensical visions. A part of her wondered if she should reach out to Beck and ask him what he thought, but the healer might make a fuss about it.
She could ask Shea. But the queen had bigger problems with Devin Farel and his posse strolling through her city like they owned it.
There was someone else who crossed her mind, but she immediately dismissed the very notion. Valerius would just find a way to make fun of her and wouldn’t be of any help whatsoever.
She bathed, got dressed, and made her way down to headquarters.
At this time on any ordinary day, the castle would have just started to wake, but there was a full house of active servants rushing through the corridor. Where one guard would usually be posted, there were two. Everyone was visibly on their guard.
She arrived at headquarters and found the master’s office closed. Rook was resting against the door.
He was an odd one, a common fae as tall as any high fae, and with very long pointed ears—a lot longer than most high fae, like a handsome knight of old carved in ancient sculptures.
Rook was lean, seemingly frail—seemingly being the key word. Devi had seen him effortlessly carry loads that she would have struggled to move two feet. His features were delicate, almost effeminate. Above all, Rook distinguished himself by using his wings.
Every high fae Devi knew had wings, which they kept firmly hidden under their skin. Showing them was something akin to showing boobs in public. Common fae rarely were bestowed wings at all.
Rook’s looked like a bat’s, dark and velvety. Devi was certain they were soft, although she hadn’t touched them, of course. Grabbing his dick might have been less personal. He kept them out at all times and flew whenever he could. There wasn’t any regulation against it, but it certainly earned him his fair share of disapproving glances.
Devi’s bet? People were envious of his freedom. There was no noble name for him to disgrace and no patriarch who’d threaten to disown him, so he did as he pleased.
Devi was certainly jealous, but it was for another reason.
She had wings, all right. Wings that hurt like she was being split in two when she forced them out. Wings so heavy she couldn’t lift them to fly at all.
Flying was a skill parents taught their children, along with swimming and swinging a sword. After one try, Loxy had cried along with her little girl and promised she wouldn’t make her go through that ordeal again. She’d been six at the time, but Devi recalled it well enough to keep her own wings where they belonged—tucked inside her skin. She truly envied Rook, who was so very comfortable with his.
Rook had cut slits into his uniform so his wings could come out at any time. For once, they weren’t on display.
“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend,” he growled darkly, eyes narrowed. “Devi Star Rivers has never, ever been early to anything in her entire life.”
“Har, har,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He shrugged. “You never sleep. You generally just hang out in your room until the last possible second. Not that I blame you. It’s like the size of my entire place. Plus the neighbor’s. And you have people wiping your butt too.”
Devi’s life was an unending source of entertainment to him. Sometimes she was a little ashamed of having so much when others worked very hard for little flats atop a fishmonger’s shop. Rook purposefully kept his uniform in his locker here at the palace so it didn’t smell of fish like the rest of his stuff.
Then she remembered why she had no reason to be ashamed at all, and she kept her head high.
Devi owned the land where she was born, Farj. There were thirty-seven thousand fae of all castes who lived there, and every day she served them by residing in the court of night.
As a landlady and member of the court, she had a seat in the House of Lords; she could give her opinion on things such as tax reforms. For ten years, she’d let a delegate speak for her, but when she’d turned twenty-five, she’d sat alongside him at every meeting to learn how she could be of service. She was one of the only voices who spoke for the good of the people, rather than out of self-interest.
With her work came a generous income. Shea also had given her an allowance. On top of that, she earned a fair living as an apprentice protector. Devi only kept her protector salary. The rest went to helping orphans around the city, and perhaps building a dam where it was needed, or redoing the roof of a farmer’s house in her land. She did her best with the nice set of cards fate had dealt her. Having her own place would actually cut into the budget she spent on helping others, given the fact that living at the castle cost her nothing.
So she shrugged off the comment. Yes, she had servants, and never in her life had she thought of having to dust her own curtains. But Rook had never rebuilt a mill after a nasty storm, or taken in the three dozen children she fed and clothed in the little shelter that bore her mother’s name.
“Jiya isn’t in yet?”
“She’s off today. You’ve got tomorrow. They’ve changed our rotation so we can all be on duty this weekend.”
Devi groaned. The last thing she wanted to do was work over the solstice, but she got it. Everyone was on alert because of the seelie’s presence.
She could use a night off anyway.
“Jiya sent me an owl last night,” Rook said carefully, giving her a meaningful look. “If half of it is true, I missed quite an interesting gathering.”
Devi sighed. Rook used to have a crush on her, and she really, really fucking wished she could return the attention, because he was awesome. But her taste tended to lean toward assholes, so that was a hopeless cause.
She’d said no to a date three years ago. The awkwardness had lasted a few weeks, but now all was well. Except when he alluded to her dating life, of course.
Not that she was dating Valerius Blackthorn, but still.
“It certainly was interesting,” was all the reply she gave.
Thankfully, Drake Night walked inside the headquarters, interrupting the course of that particular discussion. Or so she thought.
The master looked worn out and ill-tempered; no doubt he’d stayed awake most of the day. He looked at her, slowly taking her in from the tips of her toes to the top of her head before saying, “Well, didn’t we have fun last night?”
Could someone kill me now?
“I don’t know what I’ve done to make anyone think that my personal life should be discussed at work,” she replied. “But if you’re done gossiping, I’d love to know my assignment for the day.”
Drake glared. Devi half expected to hear another warning about Valerius, but he simply waved toward the doors. “You’re both to assist the guard for the rest of week. We need all eyes in the streets right now. Should anything, and I do mean anything, seem out of the ordinary, I want to be notified directly.”
They saluted and walked out, hiding their smiles. It wouldn’t do to let the tyrant know that they enjoyed working with the guards. It was easy, and yet entertaining; plus, it actually meant that they got to see some of the festivities.
On their way to the main guard post, near the Square of Dawn, Rook dug some more.
“Do you really think you can get away with the evasive crap, by the way?”
“Watch me.”
“Devi, you and Jiya made me run a play-by-play of my night with Lily and Tristan, and it wasn’t that interesting. This is major gossip. Spill.”
She groaned.
“Come on….”
“There’s nothing to say, okay?” The walls had ears in the court of night, and she didn’t want people to whisper that it had all been a ruse by the time the guests woke in a few hours. So she did what she had to do. She lied.
Actually lied.
Devi only rarely made use of that simple and yet extremely useful gift. Fae couldn’t lie, and thus they often consid
ered spoken words to be the absolute truth. No one had ever stopped to think that as a half-elf, Devi could say whatever the fuck she wanted.
She skirted the truth, knowing lies were more believable that way.
“We met when he arrived a couple of nights ago. I’d never interacted with him before.”
“Really?” Rook pushed doubtfully. “Carvenstone is close to Farj. The talks say you were old acquaintances, and that you’d frequently met up north.”
“Ew.” She grimaced. “I left Farj at fourteen.”
“But you’ve visited.”
She nodded, once. “Yes, to oversee projects, meet with contractors, and partake in official ceremonies. I just met Vale. He’s the reason I was so late to work the other night, actually. We randomly bumped into each other and, well, bumping a little more into each other seemed like a great idea at the time.”
She shrugged. Sex was simple to unseelie. Until someone was bound, mated, or promised, they were fair game. Devi knew most fae were bisexual and likely to jump on each other simply because they had nothing else to do.
She wished she was a little more like that, in a way. It took a copious amount of wine—or a glass of nectar—for her to feel like casual sex was a good idea. Probably the seelie in her. Seelie were monogamous and often heterosexual. That caused plenty of problems, given the fact that there weren’t as many high fae females as males. For three males, only one female was born, according to their recent census. No wonder the seelie seemed so grave and severe—they were sexually repressed.
They could have easily sorted that issue, had they simply been willing to pair up with a common or lesser fae. There were as many males as females among them for some reason. But while pairing below their class wasn’t encouraged in the unseelie realm, it was entirely forbidden to the seelie folks.
Stupid.
“So that’s it? You just had sex?” Rook frowned. “Jiya made it sound like you were basically tying the knot.”
Devi snorted. “Hardly. The fae king was making me feel uncomfortable, and you know how it is. No one walks away from the king in the seelie realm. Here, I could probably have told him to fuck off, but then….”