by Alicia Wolfe
“Well?” demanded Lady Coolwater. “Answer the human, child.”
“There was something,” Neva said.
“Yes?” said Davril.
“I saw someone, as I was leaving Therin. He was coming through the hedges across from me, and I don’t think he saw me. I don’t know what he was doing. He looked like he didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t, either. I … I think he was going in the general direction of Therin. I hadn’t allowed myself to really think about it before. I’d been so busy thinking … oh, Therin …”
I held my breath. “Who was it? Who did you see?”
Neva met my gaze, and there was no lie in her eyes. “Taron Deepnight.”
“We need to speak with the Queen,” Davril said as we walked away, back through the beautiful forest-garden. I missed the light of the Tea Tree, the smell of its peachy tea, and the babbling of the hot springs.
“I guess you believe her, then—Neva?” I said.
“I don’t think she was lying, if that’s what you mean. Why, do you?”
“No. She looked sincere. I could tell that she was really upset by Therin.” I let out a breath. “Talk about tragic romance! Two lovers, separated by war, then reunited in a strange land but forbidden from being with each other because they’re on different sides of another war, a civil one this time. I mean, we’re talking serious Romeo and Juliet stuff here.” I glanced sideways at him. “You do know who that is?”
“I’m one of few Fae that would. Remember, I’ve made a study of your world.”
“Yeah yeah. To better infiltrate it and police it.”
“The bad elements of it, yes. The supernatural, anyway. Here, I think the path to the Big House is this way.”
We found Queen Calista in the rear grounds of the Big House, where there was a fantastic garden. Tall sunflowers bobbed in the breeze, and brilliant scarlet roses dazzled the eyes and teased the nose. The Queen had apparently been admiring a coy pond before receiving a visitor, and to my surprise it was Prince Jereth himself. Both leaders had their own guards, hers in white and gold armor, his in green, but the knights stood some distance away, giving their lords privacy.
Lord Greenleaf had led us here, and he gestured us to wait. “Allow them to finish,” he said.
Things seemed to be pretty heated between Calista and her son. He was red in the face and saying, “…outrageous! Not only are my people attacked, but we’re treated to sub-par conditions. Why is it that the so-called ‘true’ houses get the most splendid bungalows and my people get the second-rate ones? And where is the entertainment, the pomp? I came here expecting a summit, not a lunch meeting of bureaucrats!”
She watched him, then glanced back to the pond. The coy seemed more interesting to her at the moment. “Are you quite done?” she said, still not looking at him. “Is your tantrum ended?”
“My tantrum?! I’ll have you know, Mother—”
“Because if you are done, I have other business pressing. While you’re worried about accommodations, I have people actually trying to solve the murder of your supporter. Unless you’re no longer interested in such a trivial matter?” I hadn’t even known she’d seen us, but she nodded her head generally in the direction of me and Davril. “I would like to receive my visitors.”
Jereth’s face only clouded further. “Do not trivialize me, Mother. That would be a terrible mistake. Therin was a good friend, and a loyal supporter. I will not stay here past three a.m. tonight if his killer is not found. But I am not done with you yet.”
She let out a breath. “Very well. Then, please, wait over there. Let me consult with Lord Stormguard and Lady Jade. Afterwards, you can continue to harangue me if that is your wish.”
“Very well. But be quick about it.”
He scowled at me and Davril, then stalked off some distance and began pacing back and forth like a lion in a cage. I wondered if the real reason he had come to visit Calista was not to complain about pomp and circumstance but simply to have an excuse to see his mother again. He might not have even been aware that that’s why he’d come, but I was convinced of the truth of it. He was a rebel prince and a traitor, maybe, but he was also a boy who missed his mom.
Calista gestured us forward, and Greenleaf nodded and stayed back while we approached.
“What have you learned?” asked the Queen.
Briefly we relayed what we had discovered so far, and she listened intently, occasionally nodding or asking a question. Once she said, “That’s alarming.”
“Which part?” I asked. “It’s all pretty alarming to me.”
“That a daughter of House Coolwater would be having an affair with the son of House Strongwall. As you probably know, Jade, House Coolwater sat on the fence during the fighting, only claiming that they supported me all along when it was over and my faction had won. Only then did they assist in trying to find and ferret out Jereth’s people, or laying siege to the Strongwalls. But if those two houses should be joined by marriage, the Coolwaters’ neutrality might become all-out support for Jereth …”
“That does sound bad,” Davril agreed. Then he continued on with the report, at last getting to the real issue, at least as I saw it. Indeed, the Queen’s face grew taut when she learned that Neva had seen Taron Deepnight going in the direction of Therin last night.
“That is bad news indeed,” she said. “If Taron meant to avenge the death of his son by means of cold-blooded murder …”
“Is that why you think he did it?” I said. “I mean, if he did? Revenge?”
“I can see no other possible motive,” she said. “But maybe we’re not seeing the full picture. There could well be more to all this than we know. Or perhaps Neva was lying. Or didn’t see what she thought she saw.”
Davril ground his teeth. “We must speak with Taron.”
“Yes. Of course.” She tapped her chin. “But we must do so with extreme caution.”
“That’s why we came to you first, Your Majesty.”
She rewarded him with a small smile. “My trust in you was well placed, Davril.” Once again I sensed a strange familiarity between them, but for some reason it didn’t make me jealous. “What I propose is—wait, where’s Jereth?”
I spun. The spot where Jereth had been stalking back and forth like a caged lion was empty. His guards had gone, too.
I felt the blood drain from my face. “How much of that could he have overheard?”
Davril ran a hand through his hair, which was suddenly sweaty. “Any of it would have been too much, at least about the Deepnights.”
“If he thinks Taron murdered Therin …” the Queen started. She didn’t need to finish. We all understood. Too well.
Davril glanced to me. “We’ve got to hurry.”
“There may still be time,” I agreed.
“May the Light give you speed,” said Calista.
Chapter Eight
Lord Deepnight’s knights bristled as we approached. House Deepnight’s guards wore blue-purple armor to go with their name, and their metallic scales glistened eerily yet beautifully.
Their unease didn’t surprise us. After all, Davril and I led a host of thirty of the Queen’s knights in their white armor, all decked out for war. I’d be a little on edge, too. We only slowed a fraction, though, as we neared the bungalow where the Deepnights were staying. It reared from a little green hill and was surrounded by fragrant apple groves.
“What is the meaning of this?” said a knight in blue-purple armor, coming forward from near the front porch. He must be their captain.
“Have no fear,” Davril said. He raised the visor of his helm so that the captain could see who it was he was addressing. When the man saw that it was one of the kings, he appeared to relax, at least to judge by his body language, but, again, only fractionally. “We’re not here to make war,” Davril added.
“All appearances to the contrary,” said the knight captain.
“We’re here to help,” I said, cutting to the chase. “There may be trouble.�
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“What sort?”
“Is Lord Deepnight around?”
The captain hesitated, then turned halfway to address an underling: “Ask the lord to come outside. Tell him it’s urgent.”
“Yes, sir.”
The underling vanished within. Davril and I waited impatiently, and I glanced backward to view our little army—or a big army, really. The individual houses had only been permitted to bring ten knights each, with the exception of the Queen, who brought fifty. Twenty had remained with her, while we—rather Davril—commanded thirty, three times what any of the other houses could bring to bear. And thirty Fae Knights could do a lot of damage. Think immortal SEALs with magic and virtually impenetrable armor—well, virtually impenetrable to mundane weapons, anyway.
Taron Deepnight emerged, his lady wife right behind him. With his long, swept-back black hair and black goatee, he truly did look like a villain out of a comic book. Could he truly be Therin’s assassin? At the moment, it seemed all too likely. If so, maybe we should just let Jereth have him and deliver justice on the dead man’s behalf. But what if Neva were wrong? We couldn’t simply let the mob rule. Like it or not, it was our duty to protect Taron, whether he was a murderer or not.
He surveyed the gathered Queen’s knights, then glared at Davril. “What’s going on, Davril?” Not Lord Stormguard, I noted: Davril. These were two kings speaking. Two equals. Even so, half the time Queen Calista called Davril by his more formal name. Had Taron and Davril been friends back in the Fae Lands?
Instead of answering, Davril said, “Where were you last night at the time of the murder?”
Confusion gripped Taron’s face, then anger replaced it. “Are you accusing me of something, Davril?”
“Just answer the question,” I said. “Er, my lord.” Davril might be an equal, but I sure wasn’t. “Where were you during the time of the murder?”
“I was—”
“With me. Here,” said his wife, speaking up suddenly. She reached up to squeeze his arm, and he nodded at her.
I suppressed a groan. A spouse providing an alibi was the oldest trick in the book, even I knew that.
So did Davril, evidently.
“Can anyone else confirm this?” he said. Then, after a meaningful glanced at the knights: “Anyone not in your House? Because you were seen, Lord Deepnight, or at least a figure wearing your armor was seen, in the vicinity of the murder, when it occurred.”
“My armor was stolen last night,” Taron said.
“Can anyone confirm that?”
Before they could answer, the clanking of different armor sounded through the apple trees, and we all spun to see Jereth at the head of his glinting host approaching. He wore all-purple armor, and his ten knights wore green. With him were the Houses of Strongwall and Stoneheart. They had brought ten knight each. And Jereth, comprising a house all to himself, had ten knights, too. If the Deepnights joined us, that would be forty knights against thirty, plus the principals. We might win, but it would be a slaughter and any hope of peace would be chucked out the window.
“Lord Taron Deepnight, stand forth!” cried Jereth, drawing to a stop. His forces stopped with a clank of armor behind him.
Wearing an angry expression, Taron stomped down from the porch, scattering several of his own knights, who had drawn closer to protect him.
“I’m as forth as I’m going to get, you impudent swine,” Taron said, stopping about twenty feet from Jereth.
Hastily Davril and I moved closer, our own troops coming with us. A half dozen blue-and-purple knights flanked their lord.
“Now what is the meaning of all this?” Taron demanded.
“As if you don’t know,” Jereth sneered. “You were seen going in Therin’s direction last night immediately before the murder.”
“I did no such thing. And anyway, it was only a figure in my armor seen, and my armor’s missing.”
Jereth shook his head mockingly, then turned to his supporters. “He denies it. Surprising, isn’t it?” They laughed derisively or shook their fists, or both. Returning his attention to Taron, he said, “We hardly expected you to confess, rank villain as you are.”
Lady Deepnight approached, power simmering about her. She was clearly ready to invoke her Fae abilities and cause mayhem; I could tell she was powerful.
“This is obscene,” she said. “What are you and yours, Prince Jereth—a howling, bloodthirsty mob? Where are your torches and pitchforks?”
“Better yet,” Taron said, “where is your proof?”
Jereth hiked his head at me and Davril. “They are my proof.”
“You are?” Taron said, glancing to us, sounding betrayed.
“Their investigation, yes,” said Jereth. “They’ve uncovered something. A witness.”
“Say no more,” Davril warned him. “The witness must be protected, and that means its identity must stay a secret, at least in the present circumstance.”
“Fine,” said Jereth. “But you don’t deny it. There is a witness that places Taron here at the scene of the crime.”
Davril grimaced. “True. Or at least someone that looked like him.”
“Nonsense!” said Taron. “I did no such thing, and I was nowhere near poor Therin.”
“He’s telling the truth,” said Lady Deepnight. “He was with me.”
“Says his wife,” said Mia Stoneheart, who stood just behind and to the left of Jereth. “Personally, I don’t trust either one of you.” Her two consorts, who flanked her, both nodded, each wearing a tight smile, hands on the hilt of their swords. She wore her red armor, and her hair flamed in the late morning sun. Their armor was blue, as were the plate-mail suits of the rest of her house.
“Enough!” Davril said, striding forward, putting himself between the two factions.
Sucking up my courage, I went with him, and our troops followed. They formed a substantial bulwark between the potentially warring camps.
“This farce has gone on long enough,” Davril said. Sternly, he told Jereth, “Prince, you will return to your dwelling and send your followers back to theirs. You will do this now and without bloodshed.”
Jereth narrowed his green eyes. “You would protect the killer? I thought it was your job to catch him!”
Davril’s face was tight, but his voice radiated calm. “If Lord Deepnight is at fault, it will be Her Majesty that dispenses justice, not you.”
“I’ve seen enough evidence,” Lord Von Strongwall said. His hand had curled around the hilt of his sword and it was clear he ached to draw his blade. Then again, it was hard to blame him. His son had just been viciously murdered, after all. His eyes stared daggers at Taron Deepnight.
Taron matched his look, fury for fury. “You think I would get revenge on your house by killing your son, Von?”
“Your own son died at the end of a Strongwall blade. Knowing you, you would only think it fitting that my son’s death should pay for yours.”
“Then you don’t know me well enough.” Taron’s eyes gleamed hate. “I would rather spill your blood than Therin’s.”
Strongwall stepped forward. “Then take it!”
Davril suddenly drew his sword and stabbed it high into the air. It blazed with bright light. As he did, he emitted a burst of power, drawing everyone’s attention to him and reminding them of not only his own might but that of his host. Our host.
“ENOUGH!” he roared. Biting off the words, he said, “Prince Jereth, you called for this meet. If you truly do wish to return to the good graces of your mother’s court, you will take your forces and depart this instant.”
Jereth’s jaw thrust out, and his face reddened. He watched Davril tensely, as if searching for signs of a bluff. He must not have found it, as he said, “Very well, then. I’ll go. But I am no beggar. I have my price for this meet, just as Mother does. And my price is the head of Therin’s killer—today.”
“You gave us twenty-four hours,” I reminded him. “That means by three a.m. tonight.”
&n
bsp; He visibly sucked in a breath, regarding me with an inscrutable expression. “Very well, Lady Jade. So be it. But if the killer—” His gaze jerked to Taron Deepnight, then back to me “—isn’t present by then, the summit is off. And you’ll never know the promised information.”
“We understand,” Davril said. “Now go.”
Jereth turned back to his followers. “Let’s leave them to it, my friends. For now.”
He stalked off, and his forces trailed along behind him, some of them throwing us angry looks as they departed. In a few moments, we were all alone with House Deepnight.
Davril and I exchanged a look. He offered a shaky smile, and I laughed, then ran a hand through my own hair. I wasn’t surprised to see my fingers shaking, and sweat drenched my hair.
“That was close,” I said.
“Too close.”
We turned to Taron Deepnight, who was gazing in the direction Jereth’s faction had vanished. His expression was somber.
“They’ll be back,” he said.
Lady Deepnight squeezed his arm. “We’ll be ready.”
I didn’t like the sounds of that. “They won’t do anything until three a.m.,” I said.
“You really believe that?” Lady Deepnight asked me.
“Yes. Jereth is a bastard, but I think he has at least that much honor.”
Davril’s face ticced, and I realized what I’d said.
“I meant … er, not a bastard,” I hastily said. “That would mean … his mother … er, I mean, uh, what a dick?”
Davril sighed. “Let it go, Jade.” To Taron, he said, “Can we have a word in private?”
Taron scowled, then nodded. “Come inside.”
Just then, figures emerged from the bushes to one side of the bungalow, and we all jumped. I relaxed to see that it was just Ainu, accompanied by two men that might be guards. They all wore the same sort of white and gold livery, like the staff at some high-end resort, which this was. All three wore grim expressions.
“I hope I don’t have to tell you,” she said, “but violence will not be tolerated.”