by Ann Gimpel
“Of course I know that.” I kept my tone sharp and businesslike. Dragons were the storytellers of Faery. With any encouragement at all, Blue-Boy would spin this out for hours.
“The dragons’ home world will soon be no more,” he intoned. Once he’d dropped that bombshell, he waited a few seconds before adding, “If naught changes.”
“What? How is that possible?” I pressed for details.
“I was just there.” Aedan made a show of trying to dust off his leathers, but all he did was move the dirt around. “The main volcano has gone mad. Rivers of lava are coating the sands.”
A hasty search through my memory banks provided information. “Not the first time it’s occurred,” I reminded my cousin as I pictured the line of fifteen active volcanoes that made up the spine of Fire Mountain’s arid, sunbaked world.
“Aye, but three other mountains have joined in. Nothing like it has ever occurred before.” Aedan’s normally bland expression had shaded to worry with creases in his high forehead and around his silver eyes.
“What are the other dragons doing?” I asked the one in front of me. The other, a green, was still circling overhead bugling like a crazed creature.
“We have taken refuge in the sacred cave. For now. If conditions worsen, we will all come here.”
It wasn’t welcome news. Dragons had their own world for the best of reasons. They didn’t play well with others. Hundreds of them would run rampant through Faery’s delicate greenery, artistic pools, and white sand beaches, rendering them unusable. Eh, there might not be hundreds of wyrms, but even fifty of them could dish out incalculable damage. And I knew there were more than fifty dragons filling Fire Mountain’s skies.
An unpleasant thought intruded, and I asked, “Has anyone taken a look at the schism?”
Aedan’s expression was all the answer I required. “I’ll check it,” I told everyone, set a conduit built from magic, and left. The schism—a rift in Faery’s foundations—had formed soon after our regents left. I always figured it was Faery’s rebellion because we’d invited mortals to pass her gates. With Oberon and Titania absent, none of us possessed sufficient power to close the breach.
Not from the Faery side.
It was why I’d opted to spend time on Earth at the urging of Aedan and others in our court. Jedidiah provided a believable front, allowing me to set up shop beyond Faery’s gates. The casino was my third venture spread over an eighty-year timespan. It took a few months to whip Lady Luck into shape—because it was a smoking ruin when I took over. Once it was solvent, I returned to hunting for a companion rift on Earth’s side of the barrier. I had yet to locate one, but once I did I hoped I’d have better luck containing it. Better was relative since I’d had zero impact from my domain. The land didn’t respond to my call, and I’d tried everything I could think of.
Meanwhile, the rift had deepened by perhaps 50 percent during the years I’d sought to cure it. Oberon’s blood flows through my veins, but apparently not enough to make a difference.
All lands in Faery are linked. The dragon had said as much when he’d proclaimed we were all doomed. It might be a good argument to gently suggest he and his kin move elsewhere. Not much point in dragging up stakes if your new location is on its way out too.
My thoughts returned to the schism and my current task, which was taking a good hard look at it. If Fire Mountain was melting down, literally, perhaps the agitation wasn’t localized. As I sank into the bedrock layers beneath my world, I hoped my hunch had been wrong. Not that I’m given to hyperbole or flights of wild fancy, but neither do I believe in coincidences.
I snapped my fingers; a mage light mounted on a carved staff formed in one hand. Its multihued light danced crazily off limestone walls as I continued my descent. Finally, the bottom rose up to meet me. I should come here more often, but it’s not a comfortable spot. Faery’s power is thick, as is her revulsion for the Fae sullying her land with human visitors.
A century may have passed, but she has a long memory.
I landed next to a jagged strip cutting through Faery’s foundation. It didn’t look any wider, so I walked along the verge. And walked. And walked. Not wider, but considerably longer. Returning to my starting place, I didn’t need to trace the rift in its other direction. It had grown, which was all I needed to know.
“I feel your presence, your magic,” I told the land. “I respect it, and I am most sorry we displeased you.”
Like every other trip I’d made to this spot, silence reigned. If words wouldn’t do it, maybe magic was the ticket. I opened my power and reached for Faery’s enchantment. The moment of contact rocked me; for a nanosecond I hoped this time would be different, but it wasn’t to be. Like an overstretched rubber band, my seeking spell snapped, blasting me in the magical center. Far worse than a slap in the face or a punch to the guts, the shock wave whacked me in a wicked undulating wave that just kept coming. I staggered back a few steps.
Sinking into a crouch, I caught my breath. When I got my feet under me and stood once again, I said, “I am not your enemy. Faery’s history flows rich in me. Oberon is gone, and I am regent in his stead. Until he returns, allow me to help you. We need one another. Faery cannot die.” I hesitated before adding, “You cannot die. I will not let you. Death is the coward’s way out.”
I winced. Had I been too blunt?
A low tortured moan rose from the depths of the chasm spreading before me. Followed by another, it broke my heart and my spirit and filled me with hopelessness. Spreading my hands in front of me, I echoed my entreaty. “Let me help you.”
The temperature dropped until my breath made clouds in the chilly air, but Faery didn’t make another sound. I remained until icicles formed on the rock walls, holding my mind and my magic open. The magic part was risky, given what had happened last time, but I needed to prove my integrity.
Nada.
Whatever I had to offer, Faery wasn’t interested. I’d thought the moans were a crack in her veneer, but I’d been mistaken. “It’s an open offer,” I said at last. “You can always find me.”
My magic was slow to respond when I crafted a spell to return to the lands above. It made no sense. I hadn’t expended any power standing around.
Had Faery somehow tapped into me and been draining me so quietly I hadn’t noticed? The concept chilled me and meant I’d have to take far more care when I returned. Why did Faery need an infusion of anything? The land was ancient beyond reckoning, and it had never required anything from any of us.
Or I didn’t believe it had. Oberon might know different. Or Titania.
I thought about it as I traveled upward at perhaps a tenth the velocity of my trip in the other direction. I was still considering what to do next when I oozed through into Faery next to one of the land’s many crystalline pools.
Aedan walked through a gash in the air and stood in front of me, an expectant expression his face. “Well?” He spun one hand in a circle.
“Set markers to find me, did you?” I answered his query with one of my own.
“What of it? How is the rift?”
“Much longer.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose before commencing to stare at me again. “How much longer, cousin.”
“Regent, to you,” I snapped. “When’s the last time you looked? Did you measure it?”
“Checking on it is your job,” he pointed out.
His tone didn’t do anything to temper the frustration twisting my stomach into knots. I might not require sleep, but I do need to eat. I turned away, sucked in a breath, and blew it out. I’d gain exactly nothing by lighting into Aedan. When I twisted to face him, I said, “Maybe you’d like to take over on Earth?”
“Wouldn’t work,” he reminded me. “My energies aren’t a good blend with—”
I chopped a hand downward. “I recall well enough. I’m the logical patsy for Earth duty. Perhaps we might parcel out some of my other tasks to compensate for the fact I’m not here as much.”
<
br /> “What happened down there?” He pointed to our feet.
“Nothing.” Mentioning the moaning seemed ridiculous, so I changed the direction of our discussion by asking, “Why were so many gathered in front of the castle? I understand why dragons would be there, but nymphs? Sidhe?”
Aedan’s grim expression softened. “It’s their world too,” he said. “Once the dragons arrived, news traveled like lightning.” He slugged me in the shoulder. Not hard. More to get my attention than anything else. “Come on.”
“Come on, where?”
“Back to inform the others what you found. They’re all waiting.”
I started to tell him he could do as well as me with that task, but I was regent. Only so much I could avoid. “Take us,” I said.
An odd look crossed his face, but he didn’t ask after my magic. Good thing. I wasn’t about to divulge my suspicions about Faery using me as a fueling station. It would make me sound like a paranoid idiot.
The pool vanished, replaced by the stout timbers and glittering stones of Dubrova Castle. Everyone’s eyes zeroed in on me, and I felt the subtle click of my link to all of them, even the damned dragons. That part of Oberon and Titania’s magic had transitioned to me after they’d been gone about twenty years.
It was when I’d first suspected they’d never return.
I pushed my shoulders back, painfully aware of how shoddily I was garbed to stand before them as their prince. There’d been no time to change, so I still wore the black pants and white shirt that were de rigueur at Lady Luck. It was stupid. No one cared if I wore sumptuous robes or nothing at all.
“The rift has grown,” I told the crowd. “Not wider but longer. It shouldn’t affect the integrity of Faery’s foundations, but we don’t want to allow it to grow bigger still.” Here was where the rubber met the road. Many eyes were glued on me, seeking direction.
My gaze shifted to the dragons, both on the ground this time. “Return to Fire Mountain. Report in if things worsen.”
The blue spread his wings, but I held up a hand. “I do not believe it will come to this, but designate a few small teams of dragons to investigate other worlds where you might settle.”
“We’re coming here.” The green dragon tossed his snout.
“What sense is there in that?” I asked. “If Fire Mountain crashes and burns, Faery won’t be far behind. Better to find a spot where you don’t have to move again.”
The blue puffed smoke. “Good point, Regent. We shall be in touch. You can always check in on us too.”
“We shall,” I assured him.
Once they’d left, I turned to Aedan. “You’ve already been there.”
He understood my drift. “I will visit the dragons’ home world every other day beginning tomorrow.”
I held up my palm. He touched it with his own to seal his commitment.
“What can we do?” A tiny fairy with dappled wings and violet hair fluttered near.
“Aye.” Another joined her, scarlet wings thrumming with concern. “Dragons are strong. We cannot relocate so easily.”
I spread my arms to encompass the group. “We will figure something out. I cannot believe Faery will desert us. Believe in her. In the meantime, be on the lookout for anything unusual magically. Report all incidents to the court.”
“What will you be doing…Regent?” A satyr leered at me. The pause before my title told me exactly what he thought about the current state of affairs and my ability to guide us through rough waters.
“Taking care of Faery and all her people—including you.” Before I said more, including things I was sure to regret, I executed a leap. The maneuver landed me in front of the castle’s imposing front doors. The structure recognized me, allowing access, and I waltzed through its twelve-foot, richly carved entrance.
Aedan caught up before I was halfway across the great room. “I’ll check on the schism too,” he reassured me. “Any ideas about chasing down Oberon?”
I shook my head. “Not a one, but I still have to try. We need him. Titania too. Everything is connected somehow. It’s like putting a puzzle together and discovering some of the pieces are wrong or missing.”
“What do you mean?” he asked as we mounted the stairs. My chambers were on the top floor tucked away in a corner.
“We’re missing something,” I told him. “I hold the link to Faery’s people, but not the one to the land…”
“They were designed to go together.”
“Aye, I know. Hence my statement we’re lacking something critical.”
“Let me know what you need from me.” Aedan stopped on his floor and executed a formal bow.
Nodding in return, I continued upward, but guilt nagged. Aedan had said he would check the rift. “Guard your magic when you go below,” I called after him. “Something’s off down there.”
“Got it,” drifted back. “Thanks.”
No thanks needed, I thought sourly. The other option would be picking up still more pieces if Faery recognized Aedan for the soft touch he was and sucked him dry.
3
Chapter Three, Dariyah
I scurried out of Lady Luck after my run-in with Cynwrigg ap Llyr. When I’d told him I knew what he was, he probably figured I knew he was Fae. He’d have been shocked—and worried—I knew his true name. I could see through his glamour too. It had been one of the side benefits of stalking him.
What a striking, gorgeous hunk of a mage he was. Not the burly buffoon he played in his role at the casino. Not at all. Beneath his glamour, the Fae was amazing. Pushing seven feet tall, his body was lithe and graceful for its height. Muscles banded across his shoulders and back, winding down his arms. Long legs supported slender hips and a high tight ass that made me itch to get my fingers on it.
His long, lush locks were pale gold. They framed an arresting face with a high forehead, sculpted cheekbones, and a square chin. Like all Fae, he was beardless, and the graceful tips of his ears peeked through the cascade of hair.
Even though I was walking quickly, a shot of pure lust swirled through me. I’d wanted Cynwrigg from the moment I laid eyes on him. Wanted him with a singlemindedness that threatened to derail why I was slumming in Lady Luck. I’d brought myself off a hundred times—maybe more—fingers buried deep in my quim, thrusting fast and hard, as I imagined what his cock would feel like taking me from the front, from behind, or with my legs wrapped around his hips after I’d crawled up his body.
And then there was my mouth. I could almost feel him stretching me as I laved his length with my tongue and worked him with my hands. My breath was coming fast, and my nipples had formed stiff peaks.
“Hecate! Save me from myself,” I murmured, but of course she didn’t answer. She’s the goddess of Witches, and I am so not a Witch.
The motion of my thighs rubbed my slick labia together as I trotted along, adding fuel to my lust and making it impossible to think. I needed to concentrate, plot out my next moves. I hadn’t expected tonight would be my first actual confrontation with Cyn. And I sure as hell hadn’t planned on asking to sign on to his payroll, but he had the ability to ban me from Lady Luck. And seal the ouster with runes that would alert him if I crossed the lintel.
I couldn’t let that happen, so I’d gone with my instincts and asked him to hire me. In a full-on skirmish, my magic might overshadow his, but I wasn’t positive of that, and I couldn’t risk it. Not yet.
I’d been unnerved when he broke into my private party with the dealer. I’d figured on a run-in with the wimpy, oversexed Russian who couldn’t stay away. Even after I’d cut the nuts out from under his pathetic dick, he hadn’t quit ogling me. And I’d given him an eyeful. Even let him catch me in one of the ladies’ rooms teasing my clit. I’d figured it was him who’d installed the micro cameras in all the stalls. Or maybe it was just his job to monitor them to make sure no one was stealing from the club.
Damn. This wasn’t working. All I could think about was Cyn. Literally. I’d been at Lady Luck almos
t every night, but I’d taken care to wipe minds so no one remembered me. Tonight, I’d been sloppy because I was preoccupied. My game plan had ground to a halt, and I needed to jumpstart it. The dealer had been a diversion, a way to exercise my magic, take it out for a romp.
A hasty glance around told me I was alone. It was late, past two in the morning, and I’d stuck to quieter streets after leaving the casino. Reno is a godforsaken place; skanky monoliths built out of concrete and steel jut upward like permanent erections.
Needing encouragement to douse the sexual hunger still dogging me, I shook myself from head to toe. The towers looked like spaceships, not dicks. Yeah, that was better. Not as accurate, but so what? A muffled snort startled me. Not so alone as I’d thought I was.
“Hey, bitch.”
I smelled stale booze and rank sweat before I saw a man shambling out from between two parked cars. Remnants of the dude he’d once been clung to a tall frame that was going to fat.
This could be over really fast, but I kept walking, speeding up my pace.
“Bitch.” He slurred the word, missing the T sound.
I broke into a trot, but he lumbered after me. Eh, we could do this until he fell on his face. He was already wheezing. And then I smelled metal and heard the snick of a hammer being drawn back. There’s only so much I’m willing to endure at the hands of mortals.
Not in a hurry at all, I turned and faced him. He wasn’t expecting me to do anything but run, and he ground to a halt, confusion spreading over his ruined features. Amazing what booze can do to a person. And way faster than heroin.
“Look at me.” I netted him in the simplest of spells. Rheumy brown eyes scuttled from side to side before finally settling on my face. “There you go,” I told him. “Now, turn around and walk away.”
I fully expected him to obey me. Instead, he stood stock still, swaying from foot to foot. Odd. Humans can’t resist my commands, but this one didn’t show any sign of leaving. The gun was still pointed at my tits. Not a problem. Bullets are an annoyance, but they can’t hurt me.