Kevighn threw a shirt at him. “You sound like your father.”
“He was a wise man.” Ciarán balled up the shirt and threw it back.
Kevighn pulled on his shirt and they went downstairs, where old Luce was baking the day’s bread. She took one look at them and put the kettle on, then went down into the cellar. When she came back she made them tea and fried sausages.
Fried sausage sandwiches went well with Ciarán’s hangover remedies. Which they both needed. Maybe he did drink too much.
“Where exactly are you headed? Do I need to ask for safe passage on your behalf?” Ciarán asked as they ate at the table in the kitchen.
Safe passage? Ah, yes. When adventuring on another court’s lands, it was customary to ask for permission. A new life meant playing by a new set of rules.
“I … I don’t know, precisely,” Kevighn replied slowly. “I was just following the tracking spell. The place itself is in the wild lands, riddled with patches of wild magic. Can people survive wild magic? I don’t know much about it.”
Luce toddled over and slapped a coil of rope in front of him. “You’ll need this. Be quick, time runs different in them patches.”
That was good to know. “What’s the rope for?”
“It can be very easy to become distracted and lost. Before you enter, tie one end to something, then the other around your waist so you can find your way back and not wander around forever. It’s enchanted, so there will always be enough,” she added. “Also, mind your thoughts. Wild magic is meant to be formed.”
“I appreciate that, Luce.” He smiled. Luce, being ancient, knew all sorts of useful things.
Ciarán put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t do anything stupid. We want you back.”
Kevighn wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud, but he wanted to come back, too.
Toolbox in hand, Kevighn entered the wild lands. Everything around him was dark and dismal, as if something had sucked the color and the joy out of it.
Yet it wasn’t lacking in life. No, the gnarled branches seemed to claw at him as he passed. Strange birds called from twisted trees. Rocks popped up from out of nowhere to trip him. Wild lands often took on a life of their own, which was why many didn’t like to travel through them. Also, the threat of being eaten by the odd creatures that lurked in these parts was high if you didn’t know how to be stealthy and smart.
He followed the tracking spell until he came to a place where everything just … ceased. While the wild lands were ordered chaos, the patches of wild magic were akin to dense fog.
Frowning, he gazed into the wild magic, then redid the spell several times—just in case the sheer amount of magic had wreaked havoc with it.
No. Mr. Braddock, or what was left of him, was in … that.
He took the coil of rope out of the basket and tied one end to his waist and the other to a nearby tree like Luce had instructed. Taking a deep breath, he entered the magic.
Twenty-Six
New Beginnings
“If it’s not the dark court or the fire court, then who could the culprit be?” Elric grumped as they wrapped up their daily meeting in the war room.
“Everything is … inconclusive.” Bran frowned.
Noli and V exchanged glances. With every passing day, they grew more certain that Tiana was behind it. Not that they could say so, even to Bran.
“Is there anything else we need to address today?” Noli asked. The injured had returned to their homes, the remaining damage to the palace had been repaired, the banquet had been rescheduled, and things were slowly settling into something that might be considered normal.
Padraig shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”
Elric looked over his list, frowning as he checked things off. “No, Your Grace.”
Bran shot her a glance that meant he needed to speak to her alone.
“Then I think we’re done.” She smiled and stood.
As usual, V and Elric put their heads together, consulting lists and books, researching and planning everything to death. She left the room and, as expected, Bran followed.
“Your Grace?” His voice went low. “When do you expect to make the trade with His Majesty for the boy?”
“I’m not sure, I haven’t heard back from him.” Strange. What was he waiting for? “I’ll send another missive.” Of sorts. She knew exactly what would garner a response.
“I see. Your Grace.” Bran left without another word.
What an odd man.
Noli returned to their chambers. Their things had been retrieved from the big house; tutors and governesses were being found; Quinn’s journals and research had been brought back from Los Angeles and ensconced in V’s father’s private library, which V had taken over as his own. There hadn’t been much free time, but gathering all the pieces of the staff was a priority. She had a feeling she wasn’t just supposed to protect the pieces, but that she was going to have to assemble them—and ensure that Elise could wield the staff in a way that wouldn’t anger the magic.
“Hello, Noli,” Aodhan said as she entered the sitting room. He and Elise were sitting on the floor around the low table, playing a board game that was a bit like chess.
“Aodhan, would you like to write your father a letter? I won’t look, I promise.” Yes, a letter from Aodhan would be much more effective than anything she could say.
“I’d like that very much. Would you like me to do that now?” Aodhan captured one of Elise’s pieces with his own, causing her to pout.
“Please?” Noli eyed the board. “I’m sorry, I have no idea how to play this game. But once he’s done, let’s go out to the garden. I want to try something. Perhaps you both could help me.”
She needed to be outside. Gah, there were so many meetings. Indoors. How did anyone stand it? Shouldn’t all of earth court be outside?
Elise brightened. “Oh, good. I’m tired of this game anyhow.”
Aodhan stood and grinned. “You’re just mad because I always beat you.”
“Am not.” Her cheeks flushed.
“Are too.” Eyes dancing, he left the room.
Noli helped Elise put the game away.
“Why do I need a governess? Isn’t Miri enough? Am I not going back to my old school in Los Angeles?” Elise made a face as they sat down on the settee.
“We’re staying here for now, and apparently you need a governess, not a nursemaid. Also, for some reason, sprites can’t be governesses,” she replied. Urco came over and begged for affection. Noli scratched behind his ears in the way he liked. “Don’t you like Caít?”
Evidently, lesser royals often took on positions like governesses and such for royal children. Caít was a cousin, and she reminded Noli far too much of Charlotte with her impish ways. She’d be moving into the palace soon to start her duties. V had wanted to find a governess for Elise before Tiana gifted them with one.
Elise reached out to pet Urco. “I like Miri.”
“Me too, and she’ll still play with you.” Noli smiled. “Why don’t you find Miri and ask her to get us a picnic, and I’ll check on Aodhan?”
“Perfect.” Beaming, Elise set off to find Miri.
“This is hard,” Noli told V. He was helping her form a tree house out of the faery tree in the earth court palace’s flower garden. V had the faery tree at the big house—and now she had this one, at the palace. However, she missed her tree back in Los Angeles.
“It is hard, isn’t it?” V replied as they worked. “They say it took hundreds of people to craft the palace. I’d always thought it was an exaggeration, but now I believe it.”
“This is fun,” Elise chirped as she helped.
Noli looked over and saw her and Aodhan both hard at work on their part of the tree house construction. He had such an intense contemplative expression on his face.
“V—
” She nodded toward them. Aodhan had earth talent. Like his mother.
What else could the boy do?
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I see.”
James stood below and gazed up at them. “What are you doing?”
“Making a tree house, silly,” Elise laughed.
They’d made quite a bit of progress, and it actually looked like a two-room house without a roof, and missing a wall.
“Sounds boring.” James plopped down on the ground below and helped himself to the remains of their picnic, feeding crumbs to some wood faeries who thought eating was more interesting than helping. “V, are we still going to the big house tomorrow?”
“Yes, we are. Also, did you see to those things I asked?” A look of concentration covered V’s face as he made a window in one of the walls under the direction of a cadre of wood faeries.
“What things?” Noli directed the branches to weave together, creating a roof.
“Surprise. Here, let me help.” V helped her finish the roof as Elise and Aodhan brought the last wall up to meet it.
They climbed down from the tree and observed it. Several little wood faeries sat on Noli’s shoulder. One was the purple faery from Kevighn’s who’d decided she liked it here better. A green one sat on Elise’s head.
“What do you think?” Noli asked everyone. It was simple, with two rooms and several windows, but they could add on to it later.
“It needs furniture, like Uncle Kevighn’s,” Elise told her.
“My Uncle Kevighn has a tree house?” Aodhan asked. His limp was gone and he seemed in good health.
“You should ask him to take you there,” Elise replied.
“Ours is better.” V’s arms wrapped around Noli protectively. His tone was jealous, but he didn’t comment about “Uncle Kevighn.”
“It is,” Noli replied. It actually was, in many ways, though that hadn’t been her sole intention. “I give you, the Royal Tree House.” Her gaze traveled around the garden. “We need more roses—oh, and star blooms. I’d like to plant them around the base of the tree.” She’d grown partial to the fragrant night-blooming flowers.
James lounged on the grass with Urco. “Oh, we got a message from Queen Tiana asking if we needed anything.”
“Star flowers from her greenhouse, of course, in every color. Also, I want a hover-chariot like she has,” Noli replied. “What?” she added at V’s expression. “If we don’t tell her something, she’ll give us the Otherworld equivalent of a white elephant.”
Her gaze fell on Elise, who was frolicking happily with Aodhan. They needed to do something about the fact that Elise thought her mother was dead. Soon. Before the queen made good on her invitation to come to tea and give royal lessons.
V chuckled. “You’re right.”
“I suppose I can make the tables and chairs.” James stood. “V, do we have any royal engagements tonight? We could have supper here.”
Noli and V exchanged looks.
“No, no royal engagements tonight,” Noli replied. “I like that idea, don’t you?” She looked at the children, who grinned with excitement.
“Supper, here?” A scandalized look crossed V’s face.
“Oh, don’t be a fussy old bodger,” Noli laughed.
V shook his head, a grin playing on his lips. “All right, a tree house supper it is.”
At the big house, Steven stood by the faery tree and the three tumuli, which were now filled in and covered in white rocks. He supposed his father and Dinessa should have been entombed in the family plot, where he’d had Brogan buried. But it had seemed more fitting for them to be here. They’d always loved it here, and now Quinn, in death as in life, was at his father’s side.
But the more he read of Quinn’s journals and research, the more he realized how little he truly knew about the man.
Noli squeezed his hand and gave him a small smile. She’d come with Elise and James to pay their respects. Aodhan had stayed behind with Miri. It wasn’t his place to tell the boy who his real father was.
“I miss you, Dadaí.” Elise put a bouquet of flowers on his tumulus. She placed another on Quinn’s. “Quinn.” Tears streamed down her face as she flung herself on the grave. “Quinn.” Over and over she sobbed his name.
Noli took a step forward to comfort her.
“Let her cry.” Steven pulled Noli closer to him and he buried his face in her shoulder as he finally allowed himself to mourn the man who’d been more of a father to him than his own.
Eventually, he let go of Noli and picked up Elise, holding his little sister to him. She rested her head on his shoulder.
He took Noli’s hand as well, which was slightly awkward with Elise in his arms.
“Let’s return to the big house. We’ll have a snack, see if there’s anything else we need, then go back to the palace,” Steven told them.
“I like that idea. My toolbox wasn’t in my valise when my things were brought over.” Noli glanced over at his brother. “James?”
James held a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “I … I’ll be there in a bit.”
Without another word, he disappeared.
“Where’s he going?” Elise asked as they walked to the big house.
“He’s going to visit Charlotte. She’s buried not far away,” Steven said softly. With everything that had happened, it was so easy to forget that he’d lost her not long ago. But if the Staff of Eris was all he suspected it would be when they assembled it, no one would have to endure the sacrifice ever again.
“No peeking.” Steven covered Noli’s eyes with his hands as they stood right off her flower garden before a little cottage that looked straight out of a fairy tale.
“Why?” Noli laughed.
“I owe you a wedding present, remember?” He couldn’t keep the grin out of his voice. He was quite proud of what he’d been able to do for her—in secret, too.
“Oh, but I don’t have anything for you.” Disappointment rang through Noli’s voice.
“I have everything I want. Also, you created the tree house.” Steven pressed his lips to the top of her head, then removed his hands. “Open.”
She opened her eyes and gasped at the small building in front of them. “Is this a secret hideaway just for us?”
Why hadn’t he thought of that ?
“Look.” He opened the door. The place looked like a cross between a cottage and a barn. “Behold the royal workshop.”
None of the spots they’d found in the palace had been right for her workshop, so he made her one of her own. He led her inside.
“This is … this is amazing.” She examined the work bench, the cupboards, and everything else. “I want to get the rest of my tools from Los Angeles.” Her face fell. “I can’t believe I lost my father’s toolbox.”
“Maybe you left it on the Vixen’s Revenge?” Steven wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll ask Jeff. Do you like it?” His belly twitched in apprehension. It had been difficult to find the time to create this for her in secret with everything else they had going on.
Noli turned around and gave him a deep and passionate kiss. “It’s the best gift ever.”
“What are you going to do first?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “I think I’m going to make a hoverboard.”
“That’s my Noli.” He wouldn’t have her any other way.
Twenty-Seven
Reunions
Kevighn opened his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he’d closed. The disordered chaos of the wild lands had disappeared. All around him was something that reminded him of walking in a dense fog—only this haze was pale purple and had an appearance more akin to champagne bubbles.
His hand went to his waist, the enchanted rope still tied tightly around it. The other hand clutched the toolbox, following its pull through the blind nothingness. He coul
dn’t see anything but the magic, not that he’d expected to.
Mind your thoughts. Luce’s words returned to him. Yes, he should focus on the task at hand—but not so much that it took on a corporeal form. He’d heard tales of men going mad or their fears coming to life and chasing them to death.
“Mr. Braddock?” Kevighn called, trying to keep his mind blank. “Mr. Braddock, are you here?”
Being surrounded by nothing unnerved him. A light. Yes. That’s what he needed. He held out his empty hand and it began to glow. Perhaps he didn’t have much magical training—or natural talent—but he could make a light. A trick mastered long ago through his many misadventures with Ciarán.
While there was naught for the light to illuminate, it went far in settling the uneasy feeling coating him.
“Kevighn, is that you?” someone called through the mist. “Kevighn, come here. I have something for you.”
His heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice.
“Magnolia—” Kevighn shook his head. It was either the magic taking on the voices of his subconscious or a fae who preyed on lost travelers.
Focus. He needed to keep his wits about him. Magnolia wasn’t for him. He understood that now. But that didn’t mean he still didn’t have a certain fondness for her.
“Mr. Braddock?” he called as he followed the pull of the spell deeper into the mist.
“Kevighn, where are you? Why haven’t you come, why won’t you help me?” another female voice sobbed. In the distance a crumpled form appeared.
Creideamh.
On instinct, his feet moved toward it, even though it wasn’t in the direction indicated by the spell. He stopped short. No. It wasn’t her.
“You swore you’d always protect me,” she sobbed. “Help me, brother.” The figure reached out, taking on her appearance more surely with every passing moment.
“NO.” Kevighn’s yelp echoed through the void as he clapped his hands over his ears the best he could while holding the toolbox. “You’re not her. You’re not her.” He took off running.
Fragile Destiny (The Aether Chronicles) Page 27