Dragon Blood (Reclaiming the Fire Book 4)

by Alicia Wolfe

  “Beautiful,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  We emerged onto a walkway beside the creek that led away from the waterfall, turning right toward the falls themselves. Fifty feet above, they plunged down into a shining blue pool. A pair of lovers held each other close, treading water in the center of that idyllic lagoon. I wished that were me and Davril instead. But I knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Stuck in one of the most gorgeous and exclusive luxury establishments on the face of the world with the man I had serious heart-things for (and other-things for), and I might as well have been on the moon for all the good it was doing our relationship.

  The couple in the lagoon turned to us as we passed. When they saw who it was, their faces clouded. Hard to blame them, really. They would have been told by Ainu’s staff that there was a magical bomb threat or equivalent and that the Fae Lords had come to safeguard the Home Isle but that everyone else had to leave or at least relocate to the Outer Isles. I wasn’t sure if they bought the story, but either way they associated our arrival with their hasty departures, and they weren’t happy about it. I knew this couple would be forced to leave by early morning. Clearly they meant to make the most of the time remaining.

  “Let’s give them some privacy,” I said, and led Davril away from the water, back through the ornate forest.

  We were on patrol. Most of our soldiers had made a temporary barracks out of housing for Ainu’s staff, people she had sent home or to hotels hours ago. It’s where Davril and I would return when our patrol was over. In small rooms right next to each other. But very far apart. Just like now. Every now and then our arms brushed each other as we walked, we were that close, but even so I knew we were miles apart in spirit. Or at least he was keeping himself detached from me. I wanted more than anything to bridge that gap, but I was beginning to wonder if that were possible.

  His brother Nevos had stolen one woman from him, and now Nevos had stolen another. I was tainted in Davril’s eyes. Or maybe claimed was more likely. For all I knew, it was a territorial thing. Nevos had put his mark on me, or perhaps that’s how Davril saw it.

  That’s how I tried to rationalize it, anyway. The truth was I knew better. I had hurt Davril, wounded him to the core. He had been allowing himself to open up to me, and just then, at the worst possible moment, I had slept with not just someone else but the one being in all the world, or worlds, with whom that would be an unforgivable offense.

  But he had to forgive me. He just had to.

  I would show him I was worth it, that he could trust me, could rely on me. That I could be his partner in more than just a professional way.

  Shapes materialized in the darkness ahead, two of them.

  Davril’s hand went to the hilt of his sword, and mine flew to the butt of my crossbow. My pulse spiked as I tensed for action, and I could smell the spicy hint of adrenaline rising from Davril. Somewhat to my amusement, I realized we were both hoping for violence. Hell, anything to distract us from the weird tension between us.

  It was just two Fae Knights, though, both clad, like us, in our knightly livery.

  “Found you, sir,” said one.

  “Yes? Is there trouble?” asked Davril, and I could tell he was hoping for it.

  “No, sir. It’s just that your shift is over. We’re here to relieve you.”

  Both Davril and I slumped. No action. Damn.

  Hiding a sigh, Davril nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The two knights moved off down the path. Davril turned to me, then gestured toward the side-path the knights had come from. It would take us back to the temporary barracks. I rolled my shoulders and started down it, and he walked at my side. The trees creaked around us as a gentle wind stirred. The aroma of their sap filled my nose with wonder, but I couldn’t enjoy it.

  To distract myself, and us, I said, “So. Uh. Tell me about what’s going to happen, going forward. I mean, with the summit.”

  “I’ve spoken with Lord Gleamstone about it, so I have a better idea of how it will go now.” Gleamstone was the Lord Commander of the Fae Knights. Davril was merely a captain, but an important figure among the knights nonetheless both for his title and his prowess. “The five noble families, or at least their heads, will arrive tomorrow—those that aren’t here already, anyway—along with some of their family and retainers.”

  “Five? But isn’t your realm called the Nine Thrones? Shouldn’t there be nine?”

  “One family was wiped out in the war—”

  “How horrible!”

  “—and one was separated during the evacuation to your world and was stranded in the Fae Lands when the Gateways closed.”

  “And no one knows what happened to them?”

  “No one in this world—at least, that’s allied with us.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Go on. What about the rest?”

  “So that leaves seven. Of them, well, you know that I am one. Queen Calista is another, our ruler, obviously. So that will be three new rulers that you haven’t met.”

  “But what about the other two?”

  “When Prince Jereth led his uprising after we arrived in your world, two of the ruling families sided with him. One went with him into exile and the other remains in their castle but are ostracized. Shunned. Essentially they were exiled but didn’t have the good grace to actually go with Jereth.”

  I snapped my fingers. “The black castle!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There are many castles and palaces on skyscrapers in Manhattan, but the one I’ve always been most curious about is the black one. With the spikes? What’s the story there? It’s got to be the renegade royals, right?”

  Davril smiled humorlessly. “No, I’m afraid not. That castle belongs to … someone else. The one that belongs to the, as you say, renegade royals, is the one overgrown with ivy.”

  “Oh, that one. What’s the deal with ivy? Is it like a Sleeping Beauty thing?”

  “If you mean a curse, yes. Queen Calista cursed them and enshrouded their castle in dense, thorny ivy. As well as summoning ghosts to plague them periodically.”

  “Queen Calista doesn’t mess around, does she?”

  Davril looked sideways at me. “Some rulers would have simply killed them. Every last one, even unto the youngest.”

  “Jesus.”

  “What Calista did was merciful. Some say too merciful. Letting them live is potentially giving Jereth allies if there is another civil war with the Fae community.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “I side with the Queen. I love her because she’s merciful.”

  “You love her, huh?” I remembered seeing the queen shoot Davril meaningful looks before, but I’d never caught Davril returning them. I’d wondered about them, though. Two unattached, good-looking people, one a queen, one a would-be king … It made sense. It made a lot of sense.

  “Not in that way,” Davril said, blowing that theory all to hell. “Anyway, to conclude: the five houses will arrive tomorrow. That is, the four remaining monarchs, myself not included, and our respective retainers and families. There are five monarchs, but within our families are countless brothers, sisters and cousins, most of whom are dukes and duchesses, barons and so on. All of whom have their own noble houses.”

  “I get it. That’s why we humans call you the Fae Lords. Most of you are lords and ladies, if not kings and queens.”

  “Indeed. We will return to the Fae Lands someday and liberate our people from the Shadow. But first we must find a way—all the while keeping the Shadow’s agents from destroying us here.”

  “You’ll get there,” I promised. “Hey, with me here, how can you fail?”

  He smiled again, but this time there was humor in it. The sight warmed something deep inside me. If I could make him smile like that, there was still hope. Right?

  “Indeed,” was all he said.

  Shortly we arrived at the barracks and retired to our separate rooms. I slept fitfully that
night, listening to the nightbirds outside, smelling the scent of jasmine and wood, and imagining him in the room next door, probably awake and thinking about me. At least that’s what I hoped he was thinking about. More likely he was plotting out the next day’s events and the logistics of the summit. But a girl could dream.

  In the morning, we ate as a group, all the knights together, then Lord Gleamstone arrived. As lord commander of the Fae Knights and the Queen’s cousin, he was to officially take charge of the operation. That was good, because Davril would have other duties to perform—that was, he would actually be one of the players at the summit.

  We consulted with Ainu. All the guests had left Home Isle. Afterward, we did a bungalow to bungalow sweep of the whole facility, then sent word to Queen Calista. She would arrange things from there. About an hour later, the first Great House arrived, or at least those of it that were coming to the meet. Lady Gaia Coolwater strode tall and regal and proud, and no wonder; she’d been the queen of her realm before Nevos’s betrayal and the invasion of Lord Vorkoth’s hordes. With her was her paramour Lord Curwais, her son Ulain, her daughter Neva, and various vassals and servants.

  Next came Lord Taron Deepnight and the various members of his house, then Lord Sorin Feathermuse and his entourage. Both lords had also been kings.

  Next came several of Davril’s house, including two cousins, one male and one female, one a mighty duke and one a powerful duchess in the Fae Lands. They had both had castles and vast lands of their own back home, but now each occupied a tower in Castle Stormguard. Along with them came white-haired Liara and several of her Sisters in the Order Elshe—an order of healers that dwelt at Castle Stormguard. They also had their own tower. Davril had changed into his kingly clothes and met them all on the landing platform, then led them to the palatial bungalow they would be residing at. I remained with the knights under Lord Gleamstone.

  Last of all the “true” houses came Queen Calista and her entourage, which was largest and most dazzling of all, including her lord brother Barris and her cousin, the Grand Vizier, Lord Valen Greenleaf, whom I was fairly familiar with. Seeing him outfitted regally and with his own sub-entourage made me look at him a little differently, though. He was no longer simply the Queen’s right-hand man, he was a great lord in his own right.

  The “true” houses gathered for lunch at the Big House. They had brought their own cooks with them, not trusting Ainu’s people, and ate heartily while they conversed, sometimes affectionately, sometimes tensely. The bigwigs didn’t get together like this very often. I watched it all from my place along the wall, where I kept guard with a dozen other knights. Davril met my eyes from time to time, sometimes sending me a rueful smile, which made my heart flutter. I tried to tell the damned thing to hold still, there were really bigger fish to fry, and if things didn’t work out with Davril I needed to be prepared to cut bait, but the silly organ kept pounding faster anyway.

  For his part, Davril handled the conversations gracefully, but he spoke as little as he could, and he never laughed or smiled very wide. He was guarded even amongst the nobles of his own station, I realized. Interesting. I wondered if it was because he didn’t trust them, or if it was because he saw himself as somehow removed from them.

  After the lunch, the nobles took some time to explore the grounds, and Lord Gleamstone ordered another room-to-room search, just to be sure, which kept me busy for a bit.

  When that was done, Prince Jereth arrived.

  The lords and ladies of the five true houses gathered on the main landing platform while Prince Jereth, his entourage, and the two houses that had sided with him flanked him, each landing on a different platform. One house was that led by Lady Mia Sunheart, who sported long red hair and boasted red armor to match it, and had blazing green eyes, and the other was that led by Lord Von Strongwall. He may have been strong, but he had been cowering in a ghost-haunted, ivy-shrouded house for years, along with all of his family.

  Jereth met his mother with fire in his green eyes and wind in his flashing blond hair, and for a moment the world stood still. Tall and poised, Calista regarded him frostily. Standing guard just behind and to the side of her, I had a good view of it all, and I realized I was holding my breath.

  “You are well met, my son,” Calista said.

  “Thank you for agreeing to this, Mother.”

  Wind sighed across the petal-shaped platform. Behind Jereth his renegade knights tensed, and the flying stags they’d arrived on lowered their horned heads, as if for battle.

  “You truly wish to … come home?” Calista said. She spoke just as icily as before, but I detected a hitch in her voice.

  Jereth didn’t speak right away, but he swallowed, perhaps dislodging a hitch in his own voice.

  “I do,” he said.

  She nodded and thrust out her hand. She didn’t offer him a hug or a kiss, just a hand.

  He took her arm by the wrist and they shook.

  “Then let the summit begin,” Calista said.

  Four words. That was all it took. But it would all turn to blood soon enough.

  Chapter Five

  Lord Taron Deepnight pounded his fist on the table. At the movement, the mug in front of him jumped and some glorious-smelling ale spilled out. “This is insane!” he said.

  I wished I had some of that ale. It was evening and I was stationed as before near one of the entrances to the huge dinner room at the Big House, what the Fae Lords were using as their feasting hall. The sumptuous smell of their foods and wines and ales teased at my nose, and my mouth watered, but I couldn’t have any of it, damn it. I was merely a guard, a fly on the wall.

  But what a wall! Before me on either side of the grand dining table lit by candlelight and magically hovering candelabras, the greatest among the great houses of the Fae argued over the future of their kind, whether they would reunite or stay divided. Queen Calista perched tensely at the head of the table, while Prince Jereth lounged arrogantly at the foot, making a show out of being unaffected by all the drama, even though he’d been the one to ask for it.

  Little shit, I thought. Hard to believe that my sister Ruby had the hots for him. I mean, he was certainly handsome and powerful and charming in his way, and a prince, but … where was I? Oh, right. He was an arrogant prick who had started a civil war among his own people … but the cause of the war had been wanting to save even more of their people …

  It was easy to dislike him, but hard to hate him, and the truth was that I was hoping the Fae would reunite somehow. It was up to them, though.

  Lord Deepnight stabbed his finger at Prince Jereth. “We should be locking him up, not treating with him! The swine!”

  Queen Calista leaned forward, her beautiful face composed but cool. “We meet only under condition of truce, Lord Deepnight. You forget yourself.”

  Deepnight swung his glower from the prince to his queen, then softened. “You’re correct, Your Majesty. Forgive me. His presence is hard to stomach.”

  “Taron lost his son during the fighting,” Lady Gaia Coolwater said. By “fighting” I knew she meant the civil war.

  “I had not forgotten,” said the Queen.

  For the first time in several minutes, Prince Jereth spoke. “He died well.”

  Lord Taron Deepnight regarded the prince, probably wondering if he were being mocked or not. There was no hint of condescension on Jereth’s face, though. Deepnight did not reply.

  “It was my own son who slew him,” said Lord Strongwall, one of Jereth’s principal supporters. His face was haggard. “My oldest son, not Therin or Meril here. Tharos. He died soon after. From a flaming arrow fired by you.” He said this last with gaze fixed like a cobra on Ulma Feathermuse, Lord Sorin Feathermuse’s wife. She too had once been a queen and carried herself like one.

  She was also a warrior, and there was no shame on her face as she replied, “It was battle, my lord. That is what happens in battle.”

  Strongwall’s face ticked, but he said nothing, which in a way
was more frightening. I could feel the hate boiling off of him, but also the calculation. A big man with broad shoulders and a heavy dark beard, which was unusual for the Fae, he looked like a brawler, but intelligence shone in his eyes, too. I would not want to be his enemy. He sat between his son Therin on one side and his lady wife on the other. The young man resembled his father greatly, while the wife was surprisingly slight and auburn of hair.

  “All this is getting us nowhere,” said Lady Mia Stoneheart, she of the red hair and red armor. She sat flanked by her two male concubines, both rumored to be fierce fighters, and even fiercer lovers. I recognized both of them as two of the Fae Knights that followed Jereth and rode on the flying stags behind him when he rode to war.

  Davril spoke. He had been very quiet for most of the meeting, but when he did all looked to him. “And just where is that you want to go?” he said. “That is the question.”

  “Indeed,” said Lord Greenleaf.

  Attention swung back to Prince Jereth. He lazily swilled a sip of wine in his mouth, swallowed luxuriously, and said, “You all know, or you wouldn’t be so incensed. We wish to return home. To our castles and palaces.” When Lord Strongwall cleared his throat, Jereth nodded and added, “But not to be shunned or ostracized. To take our places, once more, in the halls and affairs of our fellows.”

  “You forsook that right the day of your attack,” Lord Deepnight said.

  “I believe that is Her Majesty’s call to make,” said Lady Coolwater.

  A long, uncomfortable moment passed. The Fae Lords looked from Jereth to Calista, then to each other. I didn’t envy them. It was a tough choice to make.

  “I propose,” said Davril, and attention returned to him, “that if they wish to come back, they must undergo a period of confinement.”

  “Confinement?” said Lady Stoneheart.

  Davril nodded slowly. “Your faction has never been properly punished for doing what you did. Yes, you’ve been on the run, or shut out from our affairs, under siege by ivy and other agents, but the reason you were on the run, the reason you were besieged, is because if you’d been caught you would have been imprisoned. Wanting to make peace with us is fine, but first you must receive your due punishment.” He paused. “When a human criminal turns himself into the police willingly, his or her sentence is usually reduced. I propose that that should be the case here, too.” He bowed to Lady Calista. “But that is just one proposal.”