Court of Rogues

by Ann Gimpel

  Cyn chanted a few words; the bodies broke apart into motes of blackness before they vanished leaving pools of blood on the wooden floor and nearest rug. A few more words from Cynwrigg in a form of Gaelic so old I wasn’t familiar with it, and the blood lifted, forming droplets that were absorbed into the weave of air flowing through the chamber.

  “In the end, their blood and bones and magic will strengthen our home,” Cyn intoned and dropped his hands to his sides. My link to him snuffed out, leaving me aching for more.

  “We must fill the court,” the unicorn said.

  “We will solicit delegates and hold an election,” one of the Sidhe said. Her wings drooped, and she sounded shaken.

  “I volunteer to go house to house, all through our lands,” Jess said in a choked voice. “If I hadn’t been so certain Oberon’s offer was ridiculous, much of this might have been averted.”

  “How long ago did he come to you?” Cyn asked.

  Jess narrowed her eyes in thought. “At least eighty years, perhaps a bit more.”

  “Interesting,” Cyn mused. “Oberon’s perfidy began not long after he left Faery.”

  “The Fae who sat on the court can’t be the only ones he co-opted to his cause,” I pointed out. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but it was an important point, one that shouldn’t get lost.

  “We vote in new delegates every two years,” Cyn pointed out. “Lots of chances for rogues to line the court chamber.”

  “Perhaps all his allies aren’t Fae,” the unicorn replied. He seemed to have caught his breath, and the blood on his horn had vanished. He angled the horn my way. “For example, you’re a Witch. Oberon didn’t have any compunctions about hiring you.”

  “Scuttlebutt at the registry was he’d hire anyone willing to take on the work,” I said. “The rumor mill also said he wasn’t honest, but I needed a job at the time.”

  “Glad to make your acquaintance, Dari,” the unicorn whinnied.

  “You as well,” I told him, touched by his ready acceptance of me.

  Two Sidhe fluttered closer to me, their jewel-toned wings quivering. “Be welcome, my dear,” the fairy with violet hair said.

  “Indeed,” the other chimed in. “Faery has always been a retreat, a place of peace for all with magic.” She aimed a sour look Cyn’s way. “Not only Fae.”

  He bowed low. “I know it well. Oberon gave up trying to convince me Fae were superior to other mages a couple of centuries ago. Mostly because I changed the subject every time he brought it up.”

  He raised his hands, palms out. The murmur of voices quieted. “Thank you for everything,” he told the delegates. “The story of the Fae who perished in this hall must be heard throughout the land. I agree with Dariyah about this batch being the tip of an iceberg.” He paused to take a measured breath. “I was asked what I found in Aedan’s mind. I have a list of everyone implicated in Oberon’s nefarious scheme. There are a lot of them, and we must proceed with caution so as not to alarm everyone else.”

  His nostrils flared. “Some of you may not agree with me, but if any traitors wish to leave, rather than continue living in a land that doesn’t honor their bigotry, they can have a one-way ticket out of Faery.

  “Three immediate tasks lie ahead.” He extended a hand and counted off on his fingers. “One. Flushing out the other traitors. Two. Voting on delegates to fill our court and seating them as quickly as possible. Three. Finding Titania.”

  “How can we be positive new delegates won’t be as corrupt as the Fae we dispatched?” a Sidhe asked.

  “Even though I have a list, the long and short of it is we can’t know for certain,” Cyn answered. “Aedan’s information may have had holes in it. If I were Oberon, I wouldn’t have trusted him with much of anything.”

  “We will ask the goddess and the land for their blessing,” a Sidhe said.

  “Might not do any good if we can’t keep Oberon out,” the unicorn neighed raucously. “Not if he’s been sneaking in to keep tabs on everything. He might have been able to hire out watching Cynwrigg, but I’d bet my horn he’s been here checking on the land.”

  “My suspicion as well,” I said. It earned me an approving mane-shake.

  “I’m adding a fourth task,” Cyn said. “Not keeping Oberon out, but building a series of markers that will alert us when he’s here. If we intercept him enough times and make his life miserable enough—”

  “What if he waltzes in and demands you return sovereignty to him?” a Sidhe asked. “It would be within our covenant and his rights as king. It’s not as if he stepped down.”

  I glanced at Cyn and received a curt nod, verifying the Sidhe’s assertion. “He didn’t step down,” Cyn confirmed. “Just walked away. Twenty years slid past before I stopped expecting him back. Once the court is full, we will rewrite the covenant.”

  “Why wait?” the Sidhe demanded.

  “To make certain he can’t challenge our action. We will also have the covenant ratified by Faery assuming I can figure out a way to include her. We all have work to do.”

  Amid a sea of nodding heads, the unicorn, satyrs, Jess, and the Sidhe strode from the courtroom leaving me alone with Cynwrigg. Tucking a hand beneath his arm, I asked, “How are you doing?”

  “Surprisingly well, given how bloody this turned.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “That I’d kill whoever was responsible for Rona’s death myself and let the others leave with the understanding they could never return.” He turned me until I faced him. “This way was better. More permanent.”

  “Were you certain Rona’s assassin sat on the court?”

  He shook his head. “What I was certain of was the group on the court would know who’d masterminded her death.” The harsh cast to his mouth softened. “At least I was right about one thing?”

  I had a feeling what he was about to say, but I asked anyway. “And what was that?”

  “Our magics. When they’re joined, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.” He cradled the side of my face in his big hand. “You felt it, right? The jolt as our power collided.”

  I nodded, my mouth curving into a soft smile. “How could I not feel it? It was like a tidal wave, a tsunami of magic.”

  “We need to practice, of course.” He smiled back, so maybe my grin was infectious.

  “You sound like my mother. On a serious note, there’s work to be done.”

  “There is. We’re starting with Faery. But first, I hope you don’t mind me taking credit for you scouring Aedan’s memories.”

  “Not at all. It would have been awkward to say I’d done it. Make it that much harder to keep up my pretense of being a Witch.”

  “Thanks for understanding. Let’s pay Faery a visit.”

  It wouldn’t have been my first choice of a launching point. I’d figured we’d use our combined strength to search out other traitors. “Why there?”

  “Because she can talk to you. It’s a workaround for Oberon muting her ability to speak with me.” He hesitated. “I understand if you have other things to do. We can schedule Faery for a time that’s more convenient.”

  I threaded my arms around him. “When I committed to do whatever it took to bring Oberon down, I meant it. Let’s go chat with Faery. Maybe after that, we can grab something to eat.”

  Muted rumbling shook the castle. “Fuck!” Cyn swore as his power boiled around us. “Last time I felt something like that was when you closed the rift.”

  “Oberon couldn’t have ripped it open again,” I protested, wanting desperately to believe my own hype. I liked Faery; she deserved respect not destruction.

  “Yeah, he could have. He’ll have discovered the deaths of his pets, and he’ll be furious, bent on revenge.”

  I dragged my power to the fore, ready for anything as Cyn’s spell transported us to the bowels of his world. Mine too, except I wasn’t used to thinking in those terms.

  14

  Chapter Fourteen, Cyn

&nbs
p; If I ever got my hands on Oberon, I wouldn’t let go until I’d made him sorry he’d ever fucked with me. Anger wasn’t useful; it clouded my reason, but I wanted Oberon tossed in a pit, hacked at with knives, frozen until his balls turned blue, and burned to a crisp. Preferably all at the same time with me presiding over the festivities.

  A cyclone whooshed through Faery’s underground lair tossing up not only dirt but fist-sized rocks in its wake. “What the hell?” Dariyah cried, but her next words were ripped away by the wind.

  I tried to shield her with my body; she defeated my efforts and hurled magic around us both. It helped a little, but I couldn’t see well enough to make out what was happening. Switching to my third eye finally pierced the gray murk. Boulders had fallen from above; some perched precariously, lever and fulcrum poised to rain destruction on anyone in their path.

  Power sheeted from me as I used it in lieu of eyes and ears. It was so loud from the thwack of rockfall, I couldn’t hear a thing beyond the crash and crunch of boulders smashing into one another. The earth bucked and heaved under our feet.

  “Faery must be under attack. This is her way of fighting back,” I shouted.

  “Let’s help her!” Light crackled from Dariyah’s fingertips.

  I couldn’t even find Aedan and the others I’d banished to this spot, let alone anyone else. “Love your enthusiasm, but do you see anyone to wrestle?”

  “No, but Faery can’t have launched all this for nothing,” Dariyah pointed out.

  “I sent Aedan and the other Fae here,” I reminded her. “It might have sparked some kind of chain reaction.”

  “But they were already well on their way to being dead.”

  The storm swirling around us did seem like overkill. I reached for Faery with my mind and ran into the same dead end I always did. “Ask Faery.” I nudged Dariyah.

  She turned her green-eyed gaze my way. If we hadn’t been standing next to one another, she’d have been tough to see with all the debris in the air. “I already did. Let me try again.”

  I swept us out of the path of a tumbling boulder. Dariyah’s shielding would probably have stopped it, but why waste magic if we didn’t have to?

  Balancing power in one hand, she grabbed my arm with the other. “She answered me! Lower. We have to go lower. I’ll take us.”

  Protests lodged in my throat and died there. This was my land. It rankled that Oberon had hamstrung me. Pushing my jumble of emotions aside—they’d only get in the way—I added my power to Dariyah’s as we traveled through a psychedelic light show in blues and greens and reds. I expected another cavern, but we emerged in daylight on a grassy verge. Dotted with odd, stunted trees, a verdant plain stretched in every direction.

  After the racket above, I welcomed silence, gentle breezes, and a cerulean sky sprinkled with fluffy clouds. What was this place?

  Dariyah let go of my arm and spun until she faced me, but something had changed. She didn’t feel the same. Worried something unspeakable had happened, I pushed magic toward her, seeking answers, but she shook her head.

  “I am no longer myself in this place. I ceded my will to enable Faery to speak through me.”

  I curled my hands into fists. “Do not hurt Dariyah. She is dear to me. After I leave here, I will find Oberon. When I do, I will kill him.”

  “I shall not harm her. You and she were destined to come together. You must leave Oberon alone for now. So long as he and I are linked, killing him will spell the end of Faery. Not immediately, but I will wither and die.” Even her voice was different. No longer Dariyah’s smooth, rich contralto, but something higher, sweeter, more like East Indian flutes.

  “The unrest you stepped into above,” she went on, “sprang from two things. Oberon came to claim his dead. I told him no. When he refused to honor my position, I stood in his way.”

  “Is he still there?” My question held dangerous edges, and Faery knew it.

  She shook her head. “I buried his minions beneath tons of rock because I was curious how much they meant to him. He possessed sufficient magic to uncover them, but decided it was too much trouble. The dead are no longer of any use to him.”

  “Then why show up at all?” I asked.

  “He was furious and had moved well beyond reason. He cannot stand to be bested, and I’d won this round. All of us did, but I was the final repository. It was me who dispensed justice for treason. My sentence included being barred from the Dreaming and separated from their immortal souls, elements that will continue even after their bodies cease to draw breath.”

  I spun my hands in a circle. “So he showed up, pitched a fit, and left when he didn’t get his way.”

  Faery nodded sadly. The corners of her eyes drooped. “Being tethered to that horrible excuse for a king has been the bane of my existence.”

  A jab of insight made me ask, “Do you know where Titania is?”

  “Of course. She’s a prisoner on a distant world.”

  “How? Did he do something to her magic?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, her mind. He wove webs around it, thick and confusing. She has moments of lucidity, but when she can’t figure out where she is, she sinks back into a long sleep.”

  “I thought he loved her.” It wasn’t just me who believed that. Oberon and Titania’s longstanding romance was the stuff of fables. Of course, their quarrels were as well.

  “He may have, but he loves power more.” Faery tossed her head back. “I must go. If I remain longer, I will damage my vessel, and I like her too much to do her harm.”

  “One more question?”

  “Nay, no more time.” The weave of air around Dariyah turned violet with silver threads running through it. When they cleared, she rocked from foot to foot, looking dazed.

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. My head hurts, but otherwise I’m fine. I heard all that. You should have asked her where Titania is.”

  “You’re right. I should have, but you can ask for me.”

  Dariyah shook her head. “I can’t. She’s gone.”

  I stroked locks of red hair out of her face and rubbed the back of her neck. “Not that many ‘distant worlds.’ We’ll stop by the library. Ysir is a genius when it comes to geography.”

  “He’ll remember me.”

  “Probably not. He never actually laid eyes on you.” Still holding her close, I set a spell in motion to take us to Faery’s library. We’d won this sequence, but our victory would push Oberon to move his timetable up.

  “He’s bound to make mistakes,” Dariyah said. “Especially, if he hurries.”

  “Still linked to my mind, eh?”

  She offered a sunny smile. “It’s so instructive.”

  Dusty shelves shaped up around us. Dariyah still looked a little peaked. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. Faery was gentle. She could have hurt me because my power center was exposed, but she walked softly while she shared my form. It wasn’t easy for her. I felt her longing for my body. She tires of being nothing but spirit.”

  Such an interesting insight. I’d never viewed Faery in anything even close to that light. Before I could consider what it might mean, Ysir tottered out from behind an enormous stack of scrolls that threatened to slide to the floor. “Regent. To what do I owe the pleasure? Oh, and you’ve brought a guest.” He peered through shortsighted eyes. “A Witch, is it? Well, well. All are welcome here.”

  I took in his food-spotted tan robe, matted gray hair, and ink-stained hands and asked, “What happened to your manservant?”

  He shrugged. “Hard to say. It’s all right, Regent. He doesn’t do a lot, anyway.”

  I could see as much. “I’ll assign someone who will take better care of you,” I told the ancient Fae librarian and seer.

  “Well now, that would be appreciated. I get hungry sometimes, and I’m not the best cook.”

  Annoyance beat a track through me. Granted, Ysir wasn’t the easiest assignment. Crusty
and set in his ways, his intransigence grated, but I’d figure out who’d dropped the ball caring for him and assign them to the general kitchens. Washing dishes and peeling vegetables for a decade should take the wind out of their sails.

  He’d pinned his rheumy black eyes on me, clearly waiting to see what I needed. “Come on,” I invited both him and Dariyah. “I’ll make us a pot of tea, and we’ll chat.”

  “That would be lovely.” Ysir clasped his hands together. “I have so few visitors.”

  While we walked to the small kitchen, I raised my mind voice and instructed one of the cooks to send rolls and cheese to the library. If Ysir noticed, he didn’t give any indication. Half an hour later, after we’d polished off a pot of herb-infused tea and a light meal, I said, “Dariyah and I are going to search for Titania. She’s been gone from Faery for far too long. I’ve heard rumors she’s on a distant world. Do you have any idea which one it might be?”

  He leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “I’ve been so worried about her. She used to come and sit with me, but I can’t remember the last time she was here.”

  I could have jostled his memory and mentioned she’d been missing for half a century. I didn’t. “Go on,” I urged.

  “Only two spots I can think of where she might be,” he went on. “Wait a moment. Let me find the proper scrolls.” He rose creakily from his seat and wobbled out of the room.

  Dariyah placed a hand on my arm. “Oh my. I feel so sorry for him.”

  “I should have paid closer attention.”

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  I shook my head. “Not a good enough excuse. This is my realm. Keeping tabs on everyone is part of my job. I’ve located someone to look after him. They should be here before we leave.”

  “Same way the food showed up?” She quirked a brow.