Angel nodded. “Thanks.” She glanced at me. “I’ll go home and do some chores. We want the place to look nice when Morgana comes to dinner. What did you want me to cook?”
I bit my lip. “I’m not sure.” I glanced at Herne. “What does your mother like? What’s her favorite food?”
Herne laughed. “You can’t go wrong if you serve her a platter of fish and chips, especially if it’s halibut. And don’t stint on the portions. My mother can eat four or five pieces of fish and a double side of fries in a single go. She’s not a fan of coleslaw, however. In fact, sometimes I wonder if my mother would touch a vegetable without Cernunnos pushing her.”
Angel thought for a moment, then asked, “Does she like clam chowder? That’s a good pairing with fish and chips.”
He nodded. “New England. If you offer her Manhattan-style clam chowder, she’s going to laugh you out of the kitchen. I suggest peach pie for dessert. That’s her favorite.”
My stomach aflutter, I realized that I was going to be telling Morgana tonight that I had accepted her son’s proposal. She’d not only be my patron goddess, but my mother-in-law. And that was a daunting thought. My consternation must have shown on my face, because Herne reached over and gave me a little rub on the shoulder.
“My mother loves you. You already know that. It’s not going to change just because I’m bringing you into the family.”
That really set me to sweating. I was going to be part of Herne’s family. And when you married somebody, you married the family along with them. Which meant Cernunnos would be my father-in-law. But I said nothing, simply forcing a smile as I stood and gathered my things.
“I’ll go get ready for the parley.” I escaped out of the break room before he could catch me. We had long enough to talk in the car, although I was grateful Viktor was going with us. I was suddenly feeling extremely awkward, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with the unexpected shift into insecurity. I headed into my office, closing the door behind me. And there, I sank down on the sofa, trying to calm my stomach.
We were on the road on the way toward the 520 floating bridge before Herne derailed the conversation away from shop talk. I had begun to relax, thinking I was off the hook, when he suddenly decided to become chatty. Viktor was in the back seat, thumbing through an e-book.
“We should start planning the wedding. I know you want to wait for a year before getting married, and that’s fine, but weddings among the gods are far from simple affairs. Our wedding will be a major event, so we need to start discussing the matter now.” He paused. “You do realize it will have to take place in Annwn?”
I nodded. “Actually, yes. I expected that would be the case. But I’d like to bring a few friends over. Marilee, for one. Everybody in the agency, and Raven. How will we manage that?”
“We have a year to figure it out. But anybody you want there, we’ll make it happen. I promise you that.”
“I suppose you already know who will be officiating?” I was quickly beginning to realize that Herne’s customs would take precedence over mine, even though he was doing his best to make it as much my wedding as his.
“Most likely Danu. However, you choose your own bridesmaids and maid of honor. I assume you’re picking Angel for the latter?”
“Of course. As far as bridesmaids, I suppose Raven and Talia. I have some other women friends, but not a great many.” I bit my lip, then asked, “Who are you asking to be your best man?”
Herne raised his eyebrows. “Kipa, even though I’d rather have Viktor.” He glanced in the rearview mirror as Viktor looked up, hearing his name. “Sorry, old man, but custom requires I choose someone in the family. But you and Yutani can be my groomsmen.”
Viktor snorted. “That’s all right. You know, hearing the two of you talk makes me extremely glad that I am not a god. Or marrying a goddess. Sheila and I want a simple affair, although it would be incredible if the Lady Brighid could preside. Other than that, we just want a quiet garden wedding in the snow, if there is any.”
“I can’t promise the snow,” I said. “But I thought we could weave some red rose garlands to go over the trellises and decorate with sprigs of holly.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“What about wedding dresses?” I turned to Herne. “Can I choose my own?”
“I think my mother will probably want to have one made for you. However, I know you’ll be consulted. Her tailors will make it. But…please try to pick something ornate? I know that you like simple, but I can’t stress enough that this will be a huge affair.”
By the tone of his voice, I could tell he was worried that he was imposing too many restrictions. And truth be told, I chafed at being told that I couldn’t even pick out my own wedding dress. But then a thought struck me. What if we had two ceremonies? One the grand one for Herne and all of his relatives. And then we could have a private one, with just a few friends, perhaps out in the woods near our home. I relaxed. Surely he couldn’t object.
“I have an idea,” I said.
“What?”
“What do you think about having two ceremonies? One the grand ball, and the other out in the woods, with just a few friends, private and meaningful to us?” I looked at him, expectant.
After a moment, he nodded. “Of course. That’s the perfect solution. I fully understand why you want that. And whatever it costs—whether you want two wedding dresses or a dozen, you have only to ask. I’ll pay for everything.”
Feeling better but still overwhelmed, I decided I’d had enough wedding talk for the moment. I turned my thoughts toward the parley. Ginty’s Waystation Bar and Grill was the one place where we could safely have both the Queens of Light and Dark Fae in the same room and be sure nobody was going to get killed.
The Fae had a history of warring with one another as far back as time could remember. The Light and Dark courts weren’t that different, but they were mortal enemies, locked in an eternal battle for supremacy. Yet neither one could exist without the other. The balance was necessary between light and dark, between shadow and sunlight. But they still fought, driven by an internal instinct to destroy one another.
The fact that I was a product of both courts proved to be a problem for most of the Fae, who saw me as tainted because of my mixed blood. TirNaNog and Navane—the two great cities—were mere shadows of their mother-states back in Annwn. There, the wars between the two great Courts of Fae were horrendous, the carnage unending. Throughout the eons they had battled, and untold lives had been lost in the wars. It all seemed like such a waste, such a callous disregard for life. But the Fae weren’t known for wisdom, and as intelligent as some of them could be, they were also petty, jealous, and arrogant—a deadly combination.
Here on Earth, Saílle was Queen of the Dark Court, and Névé, Queen of the Light Court. They mirrored each other, opposites and yet so much alike. Neither queen appreciated the fact that I sat in on the parleys with Herne. Long ago, when the two cities had been established over here on Earth, both courts had agreed with Cernunnos and Morgana to abide by the Covenant of the Wild Hunt. Through that agreement, the two queens had agreed to give a certain governance to Cernunnos, Morgana, and the Wild Hunt in order to minimize collateral damage. They weren’t allowed outright warfare, so all their machinations were covert. They had no choice, given Morgana was goddess of the Fae, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t push the boundaries as far as they could.
As we passed over the bridge heading toward Ginty’s, which was located halfway between TirNaNog and Navane, I stared out at the water. The elementals were out in force today. I could feel them even from within the car. They were playing in the Puget Sound, leaping and diving with the waves. To others they would appear just as an upsweep of water, a wave rolling across the surface, but I could see them from here, their glistening translucent bodies merging with the Sound. Part of me wanted to jump out of the car and dive over the edge, to swim out and play with them. It seemed far more appealing than going to Ginty’s for par
ley. But I managed to hold myself in check.
Twenty minutes later, as we approached the outskirts of Woodinville, I shook off the sleepiness that had crept over me. When I wasn’t the one driving, the swaying motion of the car made me want to curl up and take a nap. The rocking motion reminded me of a ship.
As we approached the end of Way Station Lane, a side road off Paradise Lake Road near Bear Creek, I flipped down the visor, checking my makeup in the mirror. Everything looked good, and my hair curled out from the ponytail to dangle down my back.
The parking lot was nearly full, which wasn’t surprising. Ginty’s was a popular attraction, especially for Cryptos seeking a drink among their own kind. While humans were accepted and allowed inside, the bar focused mainly on its not-so-human patrons.
Rustic on the outside, the wood stained a deep pecan, with bronze hardware, to outside eyes, Ginty’s was only one story high. Inside was a different matter. The Waystation had a stairway leading into another dimension where it housed people seeking sanctuary. No one could set foot beyond those limits without permission—not even the gods, with a few exceptions. Waystations and Sanctuary asylum seekers were sacred, sacrosanct, and off-limits to anybody except the proprietors who kept watch over them.
As I approached the door, a rush of warmth hit me. I could feel a storm on the horizon. The faint smell of ozone hung heavy in the air and it was hot and muggy. My clothes felt like they were sticking to my skin. I looked around as a dragonfly landed on my nose. Taken aback, I held very still, crossing my eyes to stare at it as it stared back at me.
“That’s an omen if I ever saw one,” Viktor said softly. “Dragonflies mean transformation. Something’s going to happen,” the half-ogre added.
Just then the dragonfly skittered off my nose and hovered for a moment before circling around me three times. Then it took off so fast that it vanished as if it’d never been.
I glanced at Herne. “Viktor’s right. I feel like something is going to happen.”
“Well, we can’t prepare for it until we know what we’re dealing with. So let’s get this over with. Here’s hoping that Saílle and Névé aren’t in the mood for a fight today. I really don’t feel like kicking some Fae queen ass.”
I slid my arm through Herne’s elbow and we headed inside, Viktor behind us. But my mind was on the dragonfly, and on the unsettled feeling it had left behind. Viktor was absolutely right. Something was going to happen. I just didn’t know what.
Chapter Five
I was surprised to see Wendy manning the door instead of Waylin, the usual bouncer. The tall, black bartender with the platinum Mohawk gave us a scintillating grin.
“Herne, Ember—I take it you’re here for a parley?”
I knew better than to ask if the Fae Queens were here yet. The bouncers couldn’t tell us who was upstairs. Nobody could, because it went against sanctuary rules.
“I wish we were just here for a drink,” Herne muttered and I seconded the feeling.
“Show me your peace-bindings,” she said.
I pointed to my dagger, which was attached to my thigh sheath. I had peace-bound it well, because not doing so would get us kicked out of the bar. Herne and Viktor showed her their weapons as well.
As she glanced at my dagger, her eyes lit up. “I spy an incredibly beautiful ring,” she said, glancing at Herne.
It suddenly occurred to me that, while we hadn’t talked about it, I wasn’t sure if Herne wanted the news to spread yet. I turned to him with a question in my eyes.
But he was all smiles. “She said yes!”
“Well, congratulations. I foresee a long and happy life for you,” she said. “You seem well suited. All right, there’s a line forming behind you. Let’s get this over with. You are now entering Ginty’s Waystation Bar and Grill. One show of a magical weapon will get you booted and banned. Do you agree to abide by the Rules of Parley, by blood and bone?”
As always, Herne answered for all three of us. “We do, by blood and bone.”
Viktor and I murmured “By blood and bone” behind him. Wendy motioned for us to go on through, and then stopped the next customers from entering. For casual customers who were there for just a drink, Wendy would just check their peace-bindings. Anybody there for parley? Went through the whole oath-taking ritual.
As always, the inside of Ginty’s seemed much larger than the outside, because it was an interdimensional space, grounded in this world.
Most of the booths were filled so we made our way through the crowd to the bar and finally found three seats together. A new bartender was on duty. He was tall and gaunt, reminding me of an extremely lean swimmer. His head was smooth, except for a thin braid from a small round of hair on the top of his head. The man was pale and his hair was the color of sunrise, pale yellow against an even paler skull.
“What can I get for you?” he asked, barely glancing across the bar at us.
Since we were on duty, Viktor and Herne ordered light ale, while I settled for a large cola. At that moment, a familiar voice echoed from behind the curtain that separated the back of the bar from the stockroom.
“Is that who I think it is?” Ginty shouted, barely audible over the clamor of customers.
“If you think it’s Herne and company, you’re spot-on.” Herne wiped the foam off his lips after taking a sip of ale.
Ginty, a handsome dwarf, emerged from behind the curtain. He stood four-five and was the picture of health, with rippling muscles and blond hair that fell to his waist. He kept it French braided, and today he was sporting a five-o’clock shadow. He wore jeans and a tank top, showing off his massive biceps, and his belt was black leather studded with silver. He jumped up on the stepstool that he used to raise himself up high enough to talk to his customers, and leaned his elbows on the counter.
“Good, I’m glad you made it.” He glanced over at the television set on the wall, which was tuned to the news with the volume turned down. Once again, the station was showing attacks by the vrykos around the nation. “What the hell’s going on?” He nodded at the screen.
“That’s what we’re here to talk about. Leave it until parley, old man,” Herne said. “There are things that are better off spoken of in private.” He glanced around the bar. “Have you heard of any trouble over here on the Eastside?”
“No, but we don’t always get wind of problems when they first start. Unless they’re political, that is. Then, we’re usually first on the list for information. Let’s go. The parley awaits.” Without further ado, Ginty led us over to the right side of the bar, where a staircase was cordoned off with velvet ropes.
The crimson ropes were actually creatures, guardians who protected the way into the portal leading to safe haven. If someone attempted to barge through, the ropes would turn into massive snakes with extremely sharp fangs. Their venom was lethal, and all it took was one bite to stop an intruder in their tracks.
Ginty said something over the ropes and passed his hand over them, and then unhooked the velvet and moved it aside, allowing us to pass through. He swung in behind us, once again hooking the rope across the staircase.
As we headed up the stairs, we arrived at the first landing. The staircase turned to the left as mist shrouded our passage. It was a magical fog, marking the entrance into another dimension. We went by feel, touching the walls as we took one step at a time until we came out into a long hall. There, the staircase turned to the right, leading to yet another floor.
But Ginty led us down the hall to the first door on the left. It seemed to be the conference room where we always met the Fae Queens, and I wondered if it was specifically kept for them and their various parleys. In fact, I wondered how many parleys they had and how many people met with them here.
As he opened the door, we entered the conference room. There was a U-shaped table front and center, with chairs around the outside. As always, Saílle sat to the left, and Névé to the right. They usually brought an entourage of bodyguards and advisors with them, and today was
no exception. Ginty, Herne, Viktor, and I took our seats at the cross table that divided the two factions.
Saílle and Névé were—as usual—decked out in full regal attire. Saílle was dressed in yards of slate blue satin and her hair flowed down to her ass, waving rivulets of shining black strands against the muted material. She wore a crown of sapphires and diamonds, and a necklace of amethyst. Her eyes were the color of ice, and she sat unmoving, like a pale statue carved out of alabaster.
Névé was her opposite, and in this—the season of summer—Névé sparkled. But we were past the summer solstice and so her luster had faded a little bit. Her hair was platinum, and her eyes were a rich coffee color. She wore a gown of green and gold that flowed over her like a gossamer dream. Her tiara sparkled with emeralds and diamonds, and her matching choker was the largest emerald solitaire I had ever seen.
I nodded at both, but said nothing. Decorum dictated that Ginty begin the parley before anyone spoke. He stood, holding aloft a golden wand. The smoky quartz on the end glittered as he wove the magic around us. An oath taken under parley was an oath that bound us before the gods, even the Fae Queens.
“I hereby declare the Lughnasadh parley of the Courts of Light and Darkness, in the year 10260 CFE, open. Under this mantle, all members are bound to forswear bearing arms against any other member of this parley until the meeting is officially closed and all members are safely home. I also remind the Courts of Light and Darkness that they are forsworn by the Covenant of the Wild Hunt from inflicting injury on any and all members of the Wild Hunt team, under the sigil of Cernunnos, Lord of the Forest, and Morgana, goddess of the Sea and the Fae. Let no one break honor, let discussions progress civilly, and remember that I—Ginty McClintlock, of the McClintlock clan of the Cascade Dwarves—am your moderator and mediator, and my rule as such supersedes all other authority while we are in this Waystation.”
After he finished reciting the Oath of Parley, he pulled out a long scroll covered in small print. “If you stay, you agree to the rules. If you disagree, leave now, or be bound to the parley. I have spoken and so it is done.”
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