by Alicia Wolfe
It took me a moment to process the fact that the Queen had agents spying on her own people. Then I realized with alarm that it sounded like she had good reason for doing so. Hell, when your own son turns against you, along with many of your own nobles, that would make anyone paranoid. Or at least watchful, I guess. Is it called paranoid if they’re actually out to get you? Whatever, it was a stunning realization.
Davril’s voice was cold. “Are there others?”
The Queen’s face was stoic. “I would not poison your relationships with those you know based on rumor and innuendo.”
“But your agents …”
“Who knows but that some of them have been turned?” She smiled grimly. “Who watches the watchers? As it happens, me. And I trust no one.”
“Even me?”
Her smile turned warmer, and the frost melted from her eyes. “Except you. And Jade. You both have my complete trust.” She leaned back and let a long moment of silence pass. “That’s why I want you two to oversee the preparations and safeguards for this summit.”
“You mean you actually mean to go through with it?” Davril asked in obvious disbelief.
I started to place a hand on his arm, then checked myself. We weren’t at that place yet. We might never be again. “This is a good thing, Davril,” I said. “Jereth knows something. He could help us defeat Nevos and stop the Shadow from destroying or corrupting this world.”
“But at what cost? Allow Jereth to return, free and unfettered, and he could bring all that we have built down around our ears.”
Queen Calista studied him. With perhaps too much reserve, she said, “Davril Stormguard, do you defy me?”
That sobered him. He swallowed and returned to his at-ease posture, his hands respectfully clasped behind his back. “No, Your Highness. Your will is mine.”
“Good.” She leaned back. “Good.”
I breathed out. Once more, as if trying to convince myself, I said, “This is a good thing.”
I wondered who I was trying to convince, him or me.
“I can’t believe she’s going through with this,” said Lord Greenleaf as he escorted us through the halls, away from the Throne Room. He was the Grand Vizier, and he held himself with arrogant primness. “The nerve of that scoundrel!”
“I take it you’re not a fan of the prince,” I said.
Greenleaf sniffed. “Allowing him to return to the Queen’s good graces would be a terrible mistake, on that much I agree with Lord Stormguard.”
“I’m surprised at you,” Davril said. “That almost sounded like an unpatriotic thought.”
“And when you do it, it’s fine?”
Davril allowed the rejoinder. Around us, the halls glimmered and danced with powerful Fae magic. I always loved visiting the Throne Room at the heart of the crystalline palace. It made me heady with its rich energies.
“I want you to be very careful in our dealings with Lord Jereth,” Greenleaf said to Davril, continuing his diatribe. We had just passed out of the heart of the Palace and I knew there must be some reason he was still accompanying us. He had something to say, and this was it.
“You don’t trust him?” I said.
He paused, and we paused with him. He visibly gathered himself and said, with all available resolve, “It pains me to say this, as he is my lady’s only child, but he would be a viper at her breast should he return. We would never be able to trust him, and in the end he would no doubt betray us.” Softly, sternly, he said, looking Davril in the eye unblinkingly, “I do hope your negotiations fail.”
Davril raised his eyebrows, but only fractionally. “I will take that under advisement.”
“Please do so.”
Greenleaf nodded once to Davril, once to me, then spun on his heel and stalked back through the shimmering, incandescent halls.
“That was interesting,” I said quietly. “Was he saying what I thought he was?”
“That we should botch the job and destroy all hope of Jereth being forgiven? Yes, I think he was.” Davril wore a thoughtful look, and I had to wonder if he was contemplating it.
“You’d better not,” I said.
He frowned. “Would that be so wrong?”
“You don’t interfere with the love between a mother and a child, especially when them reuniting might heal a kingdom.”
“It could also destroy it.”
A long moment of silence passed. Somewhere someone laughed, but the sound seemed unnatural and alien, such was my mood. I shook it off and pulled out my phone. No signal, of course. Magic often interfered with technology.
“Let’s go outside and see if there’s a signal,” I said. “Jereth may have texted me already.”
Together we found a tower and climbed up it to a beautiful terrace overgrown with fragrant red, pink and white flowers. Sunlight drenched us, warming my skin, and I relished both it and the smell of the flowers. I also didn’t mind Davril being so close and looking like he’d forgotten his ire at me for the moment. Maybe this would only last a few minutes, but I was enjoying it.
“Anything?” Davril said.
“What? Oh.” I dug my phone out again and held it up. Two bars. Good enough. After a second, my phone chimed, letting me know I had new texts. I scanned them, seeing one from Ruby, one from Selma Queen, and, sure enough, one from the Traitor Prince himself. I opened it up.
“‘Are we on?’, he wants to know,” I said, then typed YES. IT’S A GO.
“Tell him we need to approve the location first, and the timing.”
“The Queen didn’t mention the timing.”
“That will be something for us to give up in the negotiations about the negotiations if we have to.”
I shrugged and sent out the text. After a minute, the response came. I whistled appreciatively.
“What does he say?” Davril asked.
“He doesn’t mention the time, but the place he suggests …”
“Well?”
I placed a hand over my eyes and scanned the horizon. Several buildings over gaped the darkness that cloaked Central Park these days—Shadowpark, some called it. Above Central Park floated—or flew—several immense platforms. Stately mansions and pleasure plazas loomed amidst riotous vegetation and vast park-like environments.
“There,” I said.
Davril stared, then smiled. “The Floating Gardens …”
Built by wizards, the flying islands hovered constantly in the air over Manhattan, often over Central Park itself. For those that could afford it, the Floating Gardens had replaced Central Park. It was a place to stroll amidst splendid greenery in the midst of a giant city, what Central Park had once been, before the goblins laid their curse on it. Or whatever it was.
“I’ve never been,” I said. “But I’ve always wanted to.”
“I, as well.”
I hesitated, then turned toward him. His gaze was still on the Floating Gardens, far away. Slowly he tilted his head and regarded me. A long, slow moment passed, and my heart went thump-whump, thump-whump. I started to speak, but my throat suddenly constricted.
At last I managed to croak, “Sounds romantic.”
Hardly seeming to believe it himself, he lifted one hand and tucked a loose strand of my black hair behind my right ear. His hand was soft but firm. I wanted to clasp it and hold it to my face, but I resisted. I did sort of lean into the touch, though. His hand lingered against my flesh for an instant, just the merest instant, but it felt like an eternity. And then, hideously, he removed it.
“Jade,” he said softly.
I swallowed. “Yes?”
“You know we can never be, right?” He didn’t say it meanly, and in fact he said it very gently and kindly, but the words were a knife in my heart.
Feeling my eyes burn, I looked away. I said nothing.
He moved past me toward the door. Hardly daring to believe it, I reached out and grabbed his arm, then spun him toward me. Almost angrily, I said, “You have to forgive me, Dav.”
He loo
ked surprised. Then his face hardened. “This isn’t about that, Jade.”
“Of course it is. I slept with Nevos. I’m sorry, damn it! How many times do I have to apologize? It was a mistake. I thought I had to, for the mission, but in the end it didn’t really help.”
His lips twitched, but if the movement was one of humor it was of a grim sort. “Do you think so?”
I resisted the urge to punch him. “And you’ve never made a mistake? Like sleeping with your brother’s wife?”
His eyes flashed. “I told you the story. You know the circumstances.”
“Yes, and I told you my story. You know the circumstances. Sleeping with him was the best chance I had to steal back the artifact. And eventually I did. Maybe it was worth it. Maybe it wasn’t a mistake.”
“So it wasn’t a mistake now?” His jaw thrust out angrily.
I stuck out my own jaw and stepped toward him. “Maybe not.”
He glared down at me, and I glared up at him, both of us breathing heavily. My blood raced, and my mind wheeled with crazy thoughts. I think I saw some craziness shine from his eyes, too.
He closed them, slowly and deliberately. Then, seemingly with great effort, he turned away from me. Something went out of me, and I sagged back, defeated and deflated. Was there really no hope for us? I couldn’t believe it. I knew there was something between us. I had felt it once, more than once. Many times. And I knew he had, too. And if it had once been there, I felt sure that I could bring it back.
Somehow, someway.
But how? At the moment it seemed a wild and forlorn fantasy.
As he passed through the doorway and back inside, I shouted, “What now?”
Without looking back, he said, “We have to rouse the troops.”
“Wait, why?”
“You didn’t think we would be able to check out every nook and cranny of the Floating Gardens by ourselves, did you?”
“Yeah,” I muttered sourly to his back. “That would be a terrible idea.”
An hour later, after we had rounded up fifty knights and let the administrators of the Floating Gardens know we were coming, we launched into the air and set out for the aforementioned pleasure center. I’d wanted to visit that place ever since its foundation a couple of years ago, but now all I felt was dispirited and agitated. I wished we were on our way to fight bad guys so I could work some of my stress out, not dealing with boring procedural stuff.
We arrived and landed on three of the Gardens’ many landing platforms—each one was shaped like a scintillant flower petal—then joined up as one group where the different petals met the vessel proper. That is, if it was a vessel. I wasn’t even sure what to call the damned thing.
One female representative of the Gardens and some staff had gathered to meet us. The foremost one, a small Asian woman in a gorgeous old-fashioned Chinese robe of blue silk, decorated with gold fish and fantastic creek motifs, bowed to us and said, “Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Lords of the Fae. I am Ainu.”
Davril nodded. “Thank you for receiving us, Ainu. I am Davril Stormguard, of House Stormguard.”
I was reminded that Davril was indeed a real lord—heck, a former king—and that he was the head of a prominent noble house. He wasn’t coming here simply as a cop or a bodyguard but as a representative of the Fae.
“Surely other Fae have been here,” I said.
“Oh, yes, we have received our share,” said Ainu. “And who might you be? Are you Fae?”
I laughed. “I’m basically their pet. No, I’m human, more or less. More, these days. I’m Jade. Jade McClaren.” I offered her my hand before I could think about it, and before I could take it back, thinking that might offend her, she’d shaken it. Her grip was cool and firm. “Are you the head honcho around here?” I asked.
“I am the Administrator,” she said. “I do not own the Floating Gardens, but I have the honor of running their day to day affairs. May I show you around?”
“You know why we’re here?” Davril said.
“We have been advised, yes.” She hesitated, as if reluctant to bring something up, then said, “We were told by the one called Prince Jereth—apologies if you do not consider him a prince—but we were told that your faction would be paying for all expenses.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that. How much will one week cost?”
“To rent out the entire facility?” Ainu said.
“We can risk no strangers here.”
“The facility is arranged thus: there is the Home Isle, what we are on right now, a huge flying, or floating, island, in the center. More than large enough for your purposes. And then there are the satellite islands—the Outer Isles, which revolve like spokes of a hub around the Home Isle. They are inaccessible to the Home Isle save by airship, and no one there can pose a threat to you. I would be willing to rent out the Big Isle, but not the Outer Isles, too. Is that agreeable?”
“Fine. How much?”
She tapped her chin, then named a number that made my jaw fall open. She quickly followed this up with, “But we can’t have the place emptied immediately. There are many guests here, and some have booked this place months, even years in advance.”
Davril smiled. “Then I suppose our business is done. There can be no summit if there’s no place to meet, and I seriously doubt Jereth has many places we would even consider to meet with him.”
Leaning into him, I whispered, “Don’t balk now. She just wants to bargain.”
To Ainu, he said, “How much to empty the place by, say, tomorrow night?”
A shrewd look lit her eyes. She started to speak, but before she could I raised a finger and said, “Don’t push it, lady.”
Some of the shrewdness left her face. She named a figure twice as outrageous as the previous one. Davril whistled. I knew the Fae Lords were rich beyond count, but damn.
“I’ll have to get authorization,” Davril said.
“Of course.”
He moved off, to the edge of the Home Isle, where there was better reception, and spoke into his phone for a few minutes. I knew he was either talking to Greenleaf or Calista herself. At last he returned, looking pained, and I rejoiced. I knew he wouldn’t look so unhappy unless the answer was yes.
“Fine,” he said. “It’s a deal.” He gestured to the knights behind us on the platform. “My troops and I will remain here until the place is emptied to ensure no new arrivals come and to prevent any mischief. Once everyone is gone, we’ll have to perform a room to room search.”
“I would expect nothing less. First, may I take you on a tour?”
“Please,” I said, unable to help myself.
Davril ran a hand across his face, looking wearied by all this. To his second in command among the knights (not me), he said, “Remain here. We won’t be long.”
It was my turn to let out a sigh.
Ainu, trailed by two servants, showed us from the arrival platform through lush gardens and the forest-like environments of the Home Isle. People in nice clothes picnicked or took walks in the woods. Many drank. A couple smoked weed. One couple was trying to find some bushes to make out in. We passed a small lake in which people swam and frolicked, while others lounged on the beach. White resort-style bungalows and mansions reared throughout, most blended in with the arboreal background.
It all blew me away. The place was so beautiful, so enchanting, that I wanted to move in immediately. A shame only the rich ever get to see this place. Well, I amended to myself, the rich and me. Sometimes it paid to be a cop.
“How do you keep all this up?” I said. “I mean, it must be heavy.”
“A combination of zeppelin technology and magic,” Ainu said. “We employ some of the best wizards around.”
“The spellgredients must run a high cost,” Davril said.
“Oh, they do, and we burn through them quite fast. Hence the exorbitant fees.”
Even with the pricy spellgredients, I knew they must be making a pretty penny off this plac
e. Maybe I should open up my own flying resort over Manhattan. First I needed to win a few lotteries, though. Like, all of them.
Ainu led us up a series of steps. A mountain-like edifice reared in the distance, complete with a plunging waterfall. Birds spun and wheeled above it, diving to catch something—fish?—that shimmered in the falls themselves. Sunlight bounced off the birds’ white feathers, shining and gorgeous, and all about us were graceful trees and well-manicured grass, hedges and bushes. Ainu ushered us down a path, past several clusters of pretty dwellings, and stopped before an especially large building with white columns and cute little decorative towers at the corners.
“We call this the Big House,” Ainu said. “I was thinking it might serve as your main hub, perhaps even your queen’s place of residence while here—assuming that she’s planning to attend. It is our largest and nicest dwelling. Even my own pales in comparison.”
“It might serve,” Davril said. “After we inspect it carefully, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Do you mean to stay on during the summit?” I asked her.
“I thought we’d negotiated for all personnel to leave,” Davril agreed.
“Non-essential personnel,” Ainu said. “I and a skeleton crew must stay on to maintain the place and to see to any needs you might have. I know you lords and ladies have your own servants, but mine are the only ones familiar with the resort and its peculiarities.” Making her voice firm, she said, “That is non-negotiable.”
“So it is,” Davril said.
Chapter Four
Night had fallen, and fireflies whizzed through the relative darkness. It wasn’t completely dark, as globules of soft white light floated in the air between trees and over the creek. More light was cast by the fireflies themselves, and judging by their crazy colors, green and purple and orange and more, I knew they must be magically enhanced. The air smelled like jasmine, and even though we were high up in the sky it wasn’t cold at all but only mildly brisk, just enough to be refreshing—another benefit of magic.
Davril and I strolled through the nighttime pathways, fireflies buzzing about us and the soft sound of trees sighing through the night.