Changeling Illusion (Thirteen Realms Book 3)

by Marina Finlayson

  “No, I was busy playing whack-a-troll in the bushes outside.” Willow shook her head. “How did the veranda tip you off, exactly?”

  “She used her Earth magic to disturb the foundations. It was a violent but extremely localised earthquake, centred on me.”

  And he didn’t look happy about it either.

  “Well, I can kind of see where she’s coming from,” Sage said. “It was only a couple of weeks ago that she helped restore the king to his throne. She probably figures it’s up to him to handle his own shit now. She’s done her bit. After all, she left the Realms because she didn’t want to be involved in politics. And then you come knocking on her door, demanding her aid again already? No wonder she’s peeved.”

  Kyrrim didn’t look convinced, but then, his idea of duty was a little different to most people’s—as evidenced by his long search for the missing king, well after everyone else had given up hope of ever finding him or even believed he was still alive to find. “But she’s a member of the royal family. She has a duty to the kingdom.”

  “I’m not sure you and Yriell have the same ideas about duty,” I said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. It wasn’t really acceptable to tell your boyfriend that he was something of a fanatic. “Maybe if someone else goes—makes it seem more like a social visit and less of a demand.”

  “That could work,” Sage said. “I could go. She likes me. We got drunk together at that presentation the king had where he gave us all presents for helping him.”

  I grinned. “I remember. We practically had to pour you into your bed. And you were sick as a dog the next day.”

  “But I don’t think that will fly,” Willow said. “If you wheedle your way in saying it’s a social call and then you hit her up for help, she’ll hit the roof.”

  My smile faded. “True. And if she was prepared to throw Kyrrim out just for knocking on her door, who knows what she might do to you? She’d certainly never trust you again.”

  “But we need her,” Kyrrim said. “There’s no one else with her strength that we can trust.”

  I patted the empty space on the lounge beside me. “Come sit down. I can’t think with you looming over us all like that.”

  He sat next to me and threw one arm around my shoulders. I snuggled in to his side. That was more like it.

  “Maybe we need to come at this sideways,” I said. “I could ask her to come and look at Squeak. She told me once that she owed me for saving her brother.” And I’d wanted her help with Squeak anyway. Maybe she could produce the miracle that Morwenna couldn’t.

  Willow’s eyes gleamed. “If she has acknowledged a debt, then she can’t refuse if you ask her for a personal favour.”

  “Right!” Sage nodded excitedly. “You could ask her straight out to help ground Arlo as a favour to you. You’re the Lady of Illusion—the king doesn’t even have to come into it.”

  Damn. For a moment, I’d actually forgotten I had a personal stake in this. It was going to take me a long time to get used to the idea of ruling a Realm.

  “I like it,” Willow said. “It’s clean, simple, and manipulative as hell. That’s my kind of plan.”

  I squirmed a little. “It’s not manipulative. She’s basically a good person. She would want to help the Illusionists—even if it was just to piss off Summer—if she knew what we needed. It’s just a way of getting her to listen.”

  “Sure.” Willow smiled knowingly. “You keep telling yourself that.”

  Kyrrim frowned down at me. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving Arlo.”

  I’d been on the receiving end of that glare so many times it had lost its power over me. “What? Not ever? Come on, Kyrrim, we’ve been over this. That’s not protection, that’s imprisonment.”

  His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

  I laid a hand on his thigh, stroking the firm muscle reassuringly. “And I would be. You’d be with me. It’s just a jump from here to the national park, a quick walk through the bush, and Bob’s your uncle.”

  Sage laughed. “Bob’s your what, now?”

  “Your uncle. Haven’t you heard that expression before?”

  She shook her head and looked at Willow, who shrugged. “No, I certainly have not. What does it even mean?”

  “It means, like, ‘and everything will fall into place’. Or, ‘you can’t go wrong’.”

  I could see Sage filing it away for future reference. Though, of course, it wasn’t as much fun for her when Willow had learned the new slang at the same time. They liked to surprise each other. It was how they kept score in their so-called assimilation game.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Ricky says it all the time.” With a guilty start, I realised I hadn’t seen Ricky in days. He was probably wondering what on earth had happened to me by now. How many of my shifts had he had to cover while I was off playing with the fairies? I really needed to get back to work.

  And then it hit me—was I rich? Maybe I didn’t actually have to work anymore. Which was probably just as well, considering I’d be too busy running a whole Realm to have time for working the cash register in the service station.

  A pang of something almost like homesickness hit me. Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a job. No one in their right mind could possibly feel miserable because they no longer had the opportunity to work their butt off for minimum wage.

  “If we could get back to the matter at hand?” Kyrrim’s tone was abrupt. He wasn’t as used as I was to the constant diversions that happened in any conversation with Sage.

  “It’s settled,” I said, lifting my chin a little. Just let him try to talk me out of this. It was wonderful that he cared, but he’d spent a little too long as a Knight of the Realms. He’d gotten used to issuing orders and having them obeyed—but now he needed to learn a more cooperative style. “You’re taking me to Yriell’s house, and I’ll persuade her to come back here. We’ll barely be gone ten minutes. Once she’s here, I can explain the whole thing to her.”

  Tawny eyes regarded me with a hint of steel. “It’s settled, is it?”

  “Unless you want to go back on your own and play earthquakes again? Stop trying to boss me around and admit you need help. The king needs Yriell’s cooperation—which means it’s your duty as his knight to make sure I go and get it. Your personal feelings don’t matter.”

  He sighed as he stood up, but he drew his sword in a tacit admission that he was out of options. “Very well. But you must stay by my side at all times.”

  I smiled, letting my gaze roam over his muscled body. “Oh, I don’t think that will be a problem. I’ll stick to you like glue.”

  His lips twitched in a reluctant smile, even as his own gaze heated.

  “She’ll be like fleas on a dog,” Sage promised.

  “Or flies on a turd,” Willow added.

  “Charming. Your friends really have a way with words, don’t they?”

  ***

  Kyrrim had been to Yriell’s house several times now, so his gate opened very close to our destination.

  “Well, at least that’s saved us twelve dollars fifty,” I said as the gate snapped shut behind us. We stood on the bush track that led from the parking lot at the national park to Yriell’s house, close by the blasted old stump that marked the place where we needed to leave the path. Yriell’s wards prevented us from gating in right to her doorstep.

  He cast me a frustrated look. “I wish you’d take this seriously, Allegra. I’m sure the Night Vipers are.”

  “I’m taking it as seriously as you could possibly wish. I assure you I have no interest in dying.” I pushed past him and left the path, heading towards the thorny bushes that marked the beginning of Yriell’s wards. “But we need Yriell’s help and you know it. Do you honestly think the Night Vipers are staking out every place I have ever been in my life, just on the off chance that I might turn up there?” I knew he was paranoid, but this was taking it to new levels. Losing the king on hi
s watch had left scars.

  “You need to take better care of yourself,” he growled.

  So that was a no, then, but he didn’t want to admit it. I threw him a smile over my shoulder. “No need. I have the handsomest knight in all the Realms to take care of me now.”

  He scowled at me. “Sometimes I really want to smack you.”

  My smile widened. “Ooh, sounds promising. Maybe later.”

  “Don’t tempt me, woman.” His frustrated growl followed me as I pushed my way through the bushes, forcing myself past the wards that urged all comers to turn away. At least now that I was fae I actually could push past the wards. When my magic had been hidden, they’d stopped me in my tracks. Yriell certainly knew her stuff.

  Kyrrim hesitated at the foot of the steps up onto Yriell’s veranda, but I marched up and rapped sharply on her front door. “What’s wrong? Scared she’ll throw you off again?”

  He joined me, a grim set to his mouth. “You wouldn’t be laughing if it had happened to you. But no, I was just considering whether my presence might be a hindrance to you.”

  “Yriell, it’s me,” I called. “Are you there? Let me in.”

  Impatient footsteps approached the door, which was wrenched open, revealing Yriell’s scowling face. “What now? I’m going to have to move if you bastards keep showing up on my doorstep wanting shit. I already told the fly-boy I wasn’t interested, so you may as well save your breath.”

  She started closing the door on us, but I shoved my foot in the way. “Not so fast, please. I’m not here about the king. I need a favour for myself.”

  She opened the door again and studied me with a frown. “What kind of favour?”

  “The kind that involves you coming with us,” I said.

  “Is this about that bondmate of yours? I heard Blethna Arbre toasted him.”

  I gave her a pained smile. Did she have to put it quite so bluntly? “I’d be grateful if you had a look at him, yes, but that’s not what the favour is.”

  “What, then?”

  “It would be easier if I showed you.”

  Kyrrim had been slouching against the railing of the veranda with his arms folded, a scowl to rival Yriell’s on his face. He straightened. “It’s a pretty big favour, actually. I’m not sure you’ll be able to manage it.”

  I cut a sideways glance at him, eyebrows raised. What the hell was he doing, enraging the already grumpy fairy? I couldn’t see that ending well for any of us.

  Yriell drew herself up to her full height, which wasn’t all that impressive, since she barely came to my shoulder. “Are you dissing me, fly-boy? I’ll rip your feathers out and shove them up your—”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean it that way,” I said hurriedly. “It is quite a big favour, but no one doubts your ability.”

  I may as well have saved my breath. She continued to stare daggers at Kyrrim. “Give me a minute. I’ll grab a few things and then you can show me this favour of yours.”

  She left the door ajar while she went back inside. Through the open door, I could see her shoving little bottles and packets of dried herbs into a satchel willy-nilly, obviously still pissed.

  “What were you thinking?” I hissed at Kyrrim.

  He raised a haughty eyebrow. “It worked, didn’t it? She’s coming.”

  “She would probably have come even if you hadn’t insulted her.”

  He shrugged, obviously not fazed by my disapproval. “The princess is very proud of her powers. The best way to get her to do something is to suggest that she might not be able to.”

  “You’re Machiavellian, you know that, right?”

  “Machiavelli has been frequently misrepresented over the centuries.”

  “Wait, what? You knew Machiavelli? How old are you?” I’d been thinking he was maybe one or two centuries old, but shit, if he’d been around when Machiavelli was, that made him more like five hundred.

  “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a fae his age?” He had a teasing smile on his lips, and I wondered belatedly if he was pulling my leg about Machiavelli. I wouldn’t put it past him. I had discovered quite a playful side to the knight I had once thought so stern and dour.

  “Lucky I don’t care about being rude, then. How old?”

  Suddenly, it seemed very important to know the answer to that question. I was twenty-two, and I’d always known that he was older than me. Considerably older than me. But five hundred years? That was some serious age gap.

  He said nothing, and before I could press him for an answer, Yriell returned, her satchel slung over one shoulder.

  “Let’s go.” She cast a smouldering glance at Kyrrim. “Lead on, fly-boy.”

  Kyrrim gave her a grave half bow, then turned and led the way back down her path, through the thickets of bushes and out past her wards. Once there, he quickly formed a gate in the air with his sword, and we all stepped through.

  He’d brought us to a point closer to the town than normal, and we could plainly see flurries of rainbow drakes circling and diving above the lake, their jewelled skin flashing in the moonlight.

  Yriell drew in a sharp breath. “This is Arlo, isn’t it? You’ve brought me to the lost island of Illusion.”

  “Yes,” I said. The rainbow drakes had been a bit of a giveaway.

  “Makes sense. Where better to treat a rainbow drake than in Illusion? Better take me to him, though I don’t know what I’ll be able to do if Illusion’s own healers haven’t managed the job. I’m not a miracle worker.”

  And yet, I was hoping for a miracle. “Maybe a different point of view will help.”

  She gave me a sympathetic look, as if she knew I was trying to convince myself as much as her.

  A pair of rainbow drakes zoomed past, squawking like seagulls fighting over a hot chip. The one in the lead had a fish in its mouth that the other obviously wanted.

  “They’re pretty creatures,” Yriell said, her gaze following the fleeing pair as they sped down the street, dodging around the houses and up over the rooftops. “Noisy as all get-out, though.”

  There were drakes everywhere tonight. I watched their carefree flight with dread in my heart. How would Squeak cope if he could never rejoin his friends in the air?

  We soon arrived at Morwenna’s house. Lirra opened the door at our knock.

  “I thought you might be coming soon. Squeak is awake again.”

  As soon as she said it, I realised I could feel him through our bond. Some of the dread I’d been feeling was his. I sent love down the bond, but received only a faint whisper of affection in return. I looked at Lirra in alarm. “Is he in pain?”

  “You’d better come in.”

  We followed her through the house to the sick room out the back. Morwenna was there, grinding something in a pestle with hard, angry strokes. She said nothing as we entered, but that was all right with me. My attention was taken by the forlorn figure on the bed.

  “Why is he tied up like that?” Poor Squeak was pinned down, wrapped in a sheet, which was fastened to the bed frame. A couple of holes in the sheet showed where he had tried to work himself free, but now he lay staring glassy-eyed at the ceiling, a picture of dejection.

  “You weren’t here,” Morwenna said, managing to make it sound like an accusation, “and he wouldn’t stop trying to fly, even with one wing strapped down. I’m making something now to put him back to sleep.”

  I hurried to the bed and stroked his shimmering green head. He trembled under my hand. “He can’t stay asleep forever.”

  “Then maybe you should spend more time here helping him adjust instead of running off with your friends,” Morwenna snapped. “Hold his mouth open for me.”

  I sent reassurance down our bond as I pried his jaws open, but he didn’t respond. Morwenna tipped the mixture down his throat with a skill born of long practice.

  “Who is this woman?” Yriell asked, eyeing her askance.

  “I’m Morwenna, healer and leader of the exiles here on Arlo,” Morwenna replied before I
could say anything. “Who are you?”

  “I’m a friend of Allegra’s. I’ve come to look at the patient.”

  Morwenna bristled. “I can assure you that everything that could be done for him has been done. I have been a healer for almost a hundred years. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Is that so?” Yriell whistled as if impressed. “A hundred years? I’ve had dogs that lived longer than that.”

  Morwenna’s face reddened, her eyes narrowing with fury, but Yriell had turned her back on her in a clear dismissal and approached the bed. Squeak’s eyes had already fallen shut. Whatever was in that mixture had knocked him out cold.

  “What have you given to put him under?”

  “Milk of the poppy, feverfew, and some willow bark in a solution. Not that it’s any of your business.” Morwenna’s voice was tight with anger.

  “Well, at least those hundred years were well spent. You know your basics.” Yriell worked at the knots that held the sheets closed then unwrapped Squeak gently. He didn’t even stir at her touch.

  With a mix of hope and dread in my heart, I watched her careful hands lay bare Squeak’s shimmering body then gently open out his wing. Kyrrim moved to my side and took my hand in silent support, and I gave him a grateful smile.

  The silence stretched as Yriell examined Squeak. I could hardly bear to look at the gaping holes, but she inspected them in silence, gently extending the wing, checking it from both sides.

  Then she looked at me, and I knew straight away what the next words out of her mouth would be.

  “I’m sorry, Allegra. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “I told her that, but of course she knew better.” Morwenna eyed me with her usual cold dislike.

  “What is your problem?” Yriell asked in exasperation. “Are you always this bitchy or did we just come at a bad time?”

  Morwenna bristled. “You dare insult me in my own house?”

  “If you want to step outside, I’d be happy to insult you in the street. You may be a great healer, and you’ve certainly done a very nice job on his burns, but why shouldn’t she seek a second opinion? This is important. He’s her bondmate.”