by Jayne Faith
Jasper took the lantern from its hook. The structure was small and probably more for the quaint look of it than for actually housing any livestock, also betrayed by the absence of the smell of manure or any nearby corral. He opened the door, and I followed him. Inside, there were stalls, one of them stuffed with hay, and a loft. It smelled clean and earthy. On one wall there was a long basin with a faucet. There weren’t any horses, but all the gear was there—saddles, all manner of miscellaneous tack, and blankets.
“Hope you’re not allergic to hay,” I said, gesturing to the stall. “Because that looks like the only decent place to sleep.”
Jasper shot me a quick, assessing look.
“I’m not proposing we roll around in it,” I said, a bit more harshly than I intended.
His face eased into a faint smile, but there was a new intensity to his gaze. He straightened. “That’s right, you did just call me honorable.”
I snorted and went to work bench that held the pile of blankets. “You’re not going to let me forget about that, are you?” I pulled off a few and turned with the stack in my arms.
I hadn’t heard Jasper move up behind me, and when I turned around, my hands bumped into his chest. His face was tipped down, that mild smile still playing over his lips.
With deliberate movements, he set the lantern on the bench and then lifted the blankets from my arms and dropped the pile next to the lantern.
He stepped into me, his hand coming up to rest on my cheek, and the gold in his eyes seemed to flare. Everything slowed and then stopped, even the beat of my own heart. Then he lowered his mouth to mine just as I reached up for him. When our lips touched, my pulse bucked and galloped. His lips were firm, and there was no hesitation. In spite of his often mild manner, his kiss was strong and hot with passion.
My body responded with its own heat. Our kiss deepened, and the flame in my core grew to a blaze.
Just as Jasper’s other hand moved around to firmly press into my lower back, drawing me tighter against him, there was a loud crash at the far end of the barn.
Chapter 12
I SUCKED IN a startled breath, and Jasper and I both whipped around in the direction of the noise just as a white horse came galloping through the big double doors. They’d smacked into the walls as they’d burst open, and they were still swinging on their hinges.
As the beast came toward us, I saw it wasn’t a white horse. It had a slender spiraled horn growing from its forehead.
I swallowed hard as the unicorn slowed but continued to approach. Unicorns were vicious killers and very difficult to take down. I suddenly regretted my earlier wish for something to swing my sword at. She stopped opposite us, turning her head to stare at us with one eye across the work bench.
Jasper and I had edged away from each other, and both of us were tensed, ready to draw our weapons. Then the beast’s mouth opened, her lips pulled back, and she let out a laugh. Not a horsey whinny, but a human cackle—Melusine’s laugh.
I relaxed slightly. “Another one of her illusions, like the koi,” I said.
Jasper stared at the unicorn for another second and then shook his head and breathed an amused chuckle.
He cocked his head at the beast. “I believe she’s sent a chaperone,” he said, and the unicorn bucked her head in what almost looked like a nod of agreement. “Do you think she was trying to send us a message, what with unicorns’ obsessions with virgins?”
I snorted a laugh and I pushed my hair back from my face. My lips still throbbed slightly from the pressure of his mouth. I was no virgin, but I was suddenly sure the unicorn wasn’t a random choice.
“Well.” I planted my hands on my hips, regarding the conjured unicorn. “I guess it’s time for lights-out, then.”
He quirked a grin at me, the flame of the lantern dancing in his eyes as he held my gaze for a long moment. I pulled in my lower lip and bit down on it as I let out a disappointed sigh, which made his mouth stretch wider.
“Guess so,” he said, with a hint of regret in his voice. More than a hint, actually, but his expression was good-natured.
The unicorn followed us over to the stall of hay, and she watched as we mounded piles of it and then spread the blankets over the top of the makeshift beds. Jasper and I traded a glance, and then both of us looked at the unicorn. She moved past us to the stall, stood right in the middle of the blankets, and proceeded to lower herself to the floor, curling up in a way that clearly said she had no intention of moving.
Jasper and I had no choice but to take spots on either side of the beast.
As I settled on my side facing the white beast with my scabbard alongside me, I chuckled a soft laugh. I couldn’t even see Jasper past the creature. Cock-blocked by a unicorn. Clearly Melusine had a strong opinion about what transpired—or not—between me and Jasper that night.
Fatigue cooled the heat created by Jasper’s kiss, weighing down my limbs and thickening in my brain. Sleep claimed me.
When I awoke, the unicorn was gone and so was Jasper. I sat up and picked pieces of straw off my skin and clothes and then found the outhouse outside the barn. A quaint touch by Melusine.
When I emerged, Jasper was sauntering up the trail leading from Melusine’s cottage with half a loaf of bread in his hand. He split it and handed one piece to me.
“Morning,” he said, his golden eyes bright as the dawning sun.
“The two of you had breakfast together without me?” I asked with mock accusation.
“Aye, and talked about you the whole time.”
I gave him a side-eye, unsure if he actually had shared a meal with the Fae witch.
He shook his head. “I just wanted to make sure we were clear to leave. And also find out whether we’d be obliged to go by way of fish belly.”
“Oberon’s balls, I hope there’s an easier way out of here,” I said.
“There is,” he said. His face grew serious. “I also wanted to ask her about the Tuatha’s return.”
I stopped chewing.
“She confirmed what the Great Ravens saw. Not that she’d seen it with her own eyes, but that she’s heard whispers from sources she trusts.”
“The Dullahan, too?”
He nodded.
“Was she concerned?”
His face became even more grim, his brows lowering over tense eyes. “She seemed a bit afraid.”
I swallowed a bite of bread, forcing it down my suddenly dry throat. I didn’t like the thought of moody, powerful, lone-wolf Melusine afraid.
“Did she have anything to say about why the Tuatha would turn against us?” I asked.
“She only said that when the gods are displeased, it’s because the world they created has gone astray of their vision. She was speaking philosophically, mind you, not from direct knowledge of state of mind of the Tuatha.”
“It’s hard to believe the Tuatha would rise against even the Old Ones,” I said, shaking my head slightly.
The Old Ones like Oberon, Titania, and Melusine were almost gods to us. Nearly immortal. Practically infallible. Almost . . . nearly . . . practically. The fact was, the Old Ones weren’t gods. They never had been. The true gods were returning, and apparently they were pissed.
I finished the last bite of bread and looked around Melusine’s woods as I chewed. I couldn’t help a small sigh as I realized this place felt like a bit of a haven, in some strange way. A break from Marisol’s rule, Faerie politics, and money concerns. It had even been a respite from the animosity between the New Gargoyles and the Duergar, for soon Jasper and I would part ways, each of us going back to our respective leaders to report what Melusine had told us about Nicole’s blood father.
“So, if we’re not traveling by fish, where’s our exit?” I asked.
He lifted his chin at the trail winding away from the barn and leading off in the opposite direction of Melusine’s cottage.
“Is it strange that I’m not eager to leave?” Jasper asked as we began walking.
I crooked a smal
l smile up at him, managing to keep my eyes on his rather than letting my gaze dip to his lips. “Not so strange.”
The trail ended at a stone arch. It was an unnatural place for such a structure, and I wondered whether Melusine had conjured it, too, just for our benefit.
I opened my mouth. “It’s been—”
“Until we—” Jasper started talking at the same time. He inclined his head. “You first.”
“It’s been . . . enlightening,” I said. I honestly hadn’t been certain how I was going to end the sentence. My word choice seemed to disappoint him a bit. I gave him a pointed look. “As we part, we both have secrets to keep.”
“I have no intention of betraying your confidence,” he said. “And I still believe that you and I will be the ones to repair relations between our respective kingdoms.”
The corners of my mouth twitched. “Not letting that bone go?”
“You shall hear from me soon.” He swept out one arm in a gallant gesture toward the arch. “Until we meet again, Petra Maguire.”
I stepped up to the stone structure, traced the sigils, and whispered the words. The netherwhere took me into its chilly embrace and then spilled me out through the doorway just outside the stone fortress. I’d purposely come back to an exterior doorway to give myself a moment.
I leaned against the solidity of the former prison, tipping the side of my head to the rough stone and closing my eyes. Periclase was my father. Jasper, the son of a legend, had kissed me. And the gods were coming with the Bone Warriors.
I pushed away from the wall, inhaled a sharp breath through my nose, and squared my shoulders. I passed through the doorway into the stone fortress, and I was suddenly back in the bustle.
I wanted to go to Oliver first, but I was living under Marisol’s rule now. She would expect the news immediately upon my return, and if anyone spotted me doing anything but heading straight to her, it wouldn’t win me any points with the stone monarch. I was stuck in the fortress for the time being. I had to play along.
Curious eyes followed me as I made my way through the corridors to Marisol’s office. Everyone in the Order knew of my errand to Melusine, and there was also still some buzz through the fortress and likely through all of Faerie over my victory in the battle of champions. The stares felt like strands of a spider’s web, shooting out at me and falling delicately onto my limbs but clinging with stubborn stickiness as spider silk does. Each strand was only a barely-there filament, but together they seemed to be grasping me, softly anchoring me more and more firmly into Faerie affairs.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, avoiding the looks and pushing down a sudden pang of longing for my life across the hedge, where my bloodline didn’t mean anything, and I was just another merc trying to catch my mark and make rent.
When I turned into the hallway leading to Marisol’s lair of quarters and offices, Maxen was waiting. He fell into step beside me.
“You’re back,” he said, his face closed off.
Some of the chill between us had warmed after the servitor attack, but he seemed uncertain about where we stood. Or maybe there was no uncertainty on his part, and he knew exactly how he felt about my reluctance to throw myself whole-heartedly into the affairs of the Stone Order.
“Word travels fast in the fortress,” I said, still glad to see him, in spite of the awkwardness between us.
“How did it go?” Some curiosity was cracking through his carefully controlled expression. I didn’t blame him. Not many people tried to get audience with Melusine. Even fewer were granted it.
Hm, how did it go? Now there was a loaded question. Several things passed through my mind. The sprite attack. Getting swallowed by a giant koi. Sitting by the fire with the Fae witch. Learning my true blood father. Jasper’s kiss. The unicorn that prevented that kiss from going any further.
I shrugged a shoulder. “Eh, you know. Over the river and through the woods, to Melusine’s cottage we went.” I said it in the sing-song of a nursery rhyme.
“She gave you audience?”
“I wouldn’t have come back if she hadn’t.” I slid him a glance. “You know how I am about admitting defeat.”
His lips twitched, and he nearly cracked a smile.
I gestured ahead at the open door to Marisol’s main offices. “Is she going to let you hear my report?”
He nodded. “She summoned me when she heard you were back.”
He let me go in ahead of him. The sitting room had a fire crackling in the fireplace, and the snooty page I’d dealt with before was posted at the small desk across from a pair of chairs.
“She’s expecting me,” I said to the page. He started to rise and protest, but I ignored him and continued into Marisol’s office.
Maxen came in and closed the door behind us as his mother looked up from one of three tablets on her desk.
“My lady,” I said, formally inclining my head. “I’ve returned from my errand with the information I was sent to obtain.”
Her eyes widened only slightly, but I could sense her heightened attention. The air in the room seemed to still in her anticipation of what I would report. Maxen stood off to my right, just inside my peripheral vision.
“And?” was all she said. She folded her hands on her desk with her fingers interlaced.
“King Periclase is Nicole’s blood father.”
She blinked twice. “Jasper Glasgow witnessed the report of this?”
I nodded.
She drew a breath and pursed her lips for a second or two. “Very well. We know the truth. It doesn’t change the fact that the changeling has New Gargoyle blood. She’s already proven it by summoning stone armor.”
She leaned back in her chair, her gaze roaming to one of the windows. Then she refocused, this time on her son.
“Where are her intentions leaning?” she asked.
I slid a glance at him. It was telling that she was asking him and not me, considering I was her roommate and had been formally assigned to be her buddy while she was in the fortress. Perhaps I was right after all in thinking that Maxen’s attention on Nicole was partly out of duty. One might almost let Marisol off the hook for using her son that way. He was very handsome, charming, and practically Fae royalty.
He shifted his weight and clasped his hands in front of him, one hand covering the other. “She doesn’t want to return to Periclase’s kingdom. She fears him, and now that she knows more about the Unseelie, she’s firm in her refusal to go back.”
“How close is she to a decision about accepting her Fae heritage?” Marisol asked.
“She’s still wavering,” Maxen said. “But I think she’s close to acceptance.”
“We need to press her,” Marisol said. “Make it very clear that if she rejects Faerie and returns to the Earthly realm, Periclase will simply take her again. If that happens, we probably won’t be able to save her again. The safest route is for her to swear to me and the Stone Order. If she does that, Periclase can howl all he wants, but she’s ours.”
I had to check my surprise before it showed on my face. She sounded chillingly calculating, despite the truth in her words. Periclase would most likely kidnap her again, but letting Nicole think that we’d just let her waste away as a captive in the Duergar kingdom when she was also one of us bordered on cruel. I certainly wouldn’t let that happen.
“I don’t think we need to play that card quite yet,” Maxen said carefully. “I think she may come around to it on her own.”
“That would be nice, but we can’t wait much longer for it to happen naturally,” Marisol said. “You must make it clear that she can’t simply swear to the Stone Order and leave to resume her life on the other side of the hedge. She’d be unprotected and completely vulnerable to Periclase. If she isn’t ready to take the oath within the next two days and plan to remain here permanently, she’ll need to be pressed.”
I frowned. Why was Marisol so bent on keeping Nicole here? Sure, she was New Garg and the lady of the Order was constantly reminding u
s about how every one of our numbers counted. But Marisol’s interest in the matter seemed overblown.
There was a sharp twang of sympathy in my heart for Nicole. Yes, in many ways all of this was business as usual in Faerie, but I knew the pain of being pressed under Marisol’s thumb. I couldn’t help wondering if it was something in our blood that fated me and my twin to being forced into undesired lives in Faerie.
“Understood,” Maxen said. He inclined his head in an acquiescent gesture, but I caught the brief contraction of his face that indicated he wasn’t happy about Marisol’s orders.
I peered at him. Regardless of how much his mother was motivating him to spend time with Nicole, the idea of manipulating her seemed to bother him. Perhaps he had some genuine feelings for her after all. Rarely had I seen him show any objection to his mother’s commands.
“My lady, I have more to report,” I said. “Jasper asked Melusine about the rumors and rumblings regarding the Tuatha De Danann. She confirmed she’s heard it from trusted sources. The Tuatha are preparing to return, and they’re coming with the Bone Warriors. She’s . . . concerned.”
Marisol’s brows drew together over her sapphire-blue eyes. She gave a slight shake of her head. “It’s hard to imagine that it’s real, isn’t it,” she said quietly.
I got the feeling she wasn’t actually asking me, so I didn’t respond.
“Have his Great Ravens discovered anything else about the return of the Tuatha?” she asked.
“Not that he shared with me,” I said.
Her gaze sharpened on me. “The two of you are amicable, is that correct?”
I tried my best to avoid thinking about his mouth on mine. The way his hand had pressed into my lower back, drawing me against his chest and making me want to arch into him.
I tilted my head. “It depends on the moment, but considering all that’s passed between the Duergar and the Stone Order, I guess you could say we are amicable,” I said reluctantly.