by K. M. Shea
Two of them—Eclipse and Solstice, the smallest and largest of the herd—peeled off and headed in my direction, just as the first howls drifted around the corner.
Seven shades appeared—they must have been in the stables with the night mares—loping in an organized pack as they, too, descended on the spiders. They snapped their jaws around the spiders’ heads and abdomens, killing them and flinging them into the writhing hordes where they crushed each other.
I was happy to see them, but the animals were out in the thick of things alone. What would happen if one of them got injured—would we be able to fight the flow to reach them?
I heard the glooms before I saw them. They sounded like angry goblins shouting from the bottom of a well. The scream was so unnatural it made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as the felines streaked around the corner of the mansion.
The four glooms launched themselves at the spiders, their dagger-sharp claws extended. They landed on top of the spiders and made quick work, biting into the back of the spiders’ necks, killing them.
“We’re going to have to call a vet.” I reinforced the lights that addled the spiders, trying to direct the flow of the battle to make more of the monsters pass Theodora and her magic infused voice. “These things are probably diseased, and I don’t want the glooms or shades getting sick from them.”
“Is this really a priority we need to discuss right now?” Chase asked.
“My pets’ health is always a priority.” I raised a ward under a spider that was chasing Indigo, slicing it in half.
“It’s a shame you don’t treasure your own health as much as you treasure theirs,” Indigo growled.
I grinned at her, but my smile dropped when a spider rammed into one of Chase’s guys.
Just as a spider was about to fling itself on the guard, Eclipse thundered across the driveway. She snapped her sharpened teeth on one of the spider’s legs and whipped it off its feet, flinging it above her head before smashing it into the ground just as she had that hot day in May when I first saw her.
The guard scrambled to his feet—unharmed—but he’d been pushed back a few steps, which made a hole in our defensive line, and spiders scrambled through, attacking the guards who were carefully shooting out into the horde.
I tried to put as many wards around the guards as I could, but I was working with the limitations of my charm bracelet—which couldn’t funnel much magic.
I need to get my staff.
I spun around and was about to tell Chase when Indigo shouted.
“Leila, look out!”
I peered back at the spider that lunged for me, its fangs stretching as the hairs of its legs scraped against my coat.
I tried to build a ward, but I knew it would be too late.
“Aer.” Rigel appeared at my side and lashed out, stabbing the spider under its head with his twin daggers.
Relief swamped me.
Rigel was here. It was going to be okay.
Immediately after that thought, my stomach twisted, and I hated that even after two months, he still had the ability to make me feel like this—safe and protected.
Rigel kicked the dead spider in the face, sending it toppling backwards on another spider that died, crushed by its weight.
Rigel glanced at me, his black eyes sharp. “Where’s your staff?”
“Someone is bringing it.” I glanced worriedly at the mansion doors—which gaped open. “I hope.”
Rigel casually gutted two spiders with a swirl, his daggers skimming over the top of the spiders and slicing through their hardened exteriors. “We need to take out a large chunk of them at once.”
“I know that,” I snapped. “But until I get my staff—”
I was drowned out by the throaty roar of an engine.
Rigel and I spun around to see Azure, driving my truck, come barreling up the driveway. She mowed down all the spiders in her path, the truck jostling a little as it crushed fleeing spiders.
Rather than careen in our direction—where she’d risk hitting us, Azure turned and gunned it. The truck popped up over the edge of the snow, driving out into the lawn where Azure steamrolled over spiders, taking out dozens as she cranked the truck in a tight circle that spit up snow and crushed spiders.
Rigel and I stared as she bounced across the front lawn, taking out more spiders than anyone else.
“That’s efficient,” I said.
Rigel made a noise in the back of his throat, then stabbed through a spider’s head.
Not to be outdone, I hurriedly made a ward, slicing through a spider, then glanced at our allies.
Everyone was still standing—a few guards were spattered with bile and ooze, but I had recently ponied up to pay for charmed clothing for Chase and his people, so they were uninjured.
Theodora was still singing as Lord Iason cut through the spiders she stunned, and Indigo and Skye were fighting back-to-back.
I caught sight of Lord Linus helping a few guards, using a set of daggers I’d never seen him use before.
But where is my staff?
A high-pitched screech rang in my ears. “I’ve got it!” Lady Chrysanthe shouted.
The blond-haired fae zoomed down the steps, carrying my staff above her head—which is a lot harder than you’d think because that metal crescent moon that topped it was heavy.
Dressed in a gauzy gown that would have looked more at home in a Jane Austen novel, Lady Chrysanthe screamed as she plowed through spiders, bludgeoning her way to me.
In any other circumstance I probably would have laughed, but the way she barely avoided a few spiders made fear slosh in my stomach with my ill-timed humor.
“Chrys!” I shouted.
“I’m coming, I’m coming! DIE!” Prim and proper Lady Chrysanthe kicked a spider in the face before smashing the staff down on its head.
Rigel pulled a handgun from his jacket pocket and shot the spider—which crumpled up and convulsed.
“Here!” Lady Chrysanthe jumped the last few steps to me, eagerly dumping the staff into my arms.
Green gunk oozed off a couple of the sharp points of the metal stars clustered around the moon, but the second I touched it I felt better.
The sensation of magic surrounded me, wild and potent. Holding my staff, I could feel the magical essence of the night mares—which felt like dappled moonlight—the cold breath of the night that seemed to touch everything related to my Court, and even the heartbeat of my friends who fought with me.
Unity, that’s what holding my staff felt like. Not uniformity, but togetherness.
We’re fine.
I rolled my shoulders back and took a deep breath, preparing a rune.
Unlike other artifacts, which required an activation word, the staff recognized me and immediately started filtering magic, lovingly winding it around me.
Aided by the royal artifact, I could see the wild magic that naturally floated around it. I could even see the way my staff—which now glowed purple—filtered it as I peered out at the battle.
Azure still ramrodded through the spider swarm out on the lawn—which was now littered with squashed spiders and tire tracks. The shades and night mares were working together to drive more in her direction.
Chase and my guards had finally run out of their seemingly endless supply of ammo, and were fighting the spiders with bladed weapons.
Some of the spiders slipped past them, but Rigel ended them with ease, lurking around me and—I was thankful to see—helping Skye and Indigo when they needed it.
“I’m going to try to finish them off,” I announced.
“All of them?” Indigo hollered over the clang of weapons and crunch of dying spiders.
“All of them,” I confirmed.
“How?” Skye asked.
“I’m not really sure,” I admitted.
“You’re not sure?” Skye shouted, losing her usual cool composure.
“I’ll figure something out,” I absently said.
It was a littl
e hard to concentrate with the visual of wild magic—something supernaturals couldn’t normally see.
As I looked from Skye to Lord Iason to Chase, and then gazed out at the spiders where the glooms brought three spiders down together and the shades howled as they ran down a spider pack on their own, I saw a glimmer of extra magic in them.
I had a hunch it was the ancient magic that connected my Court and bound them to the ancient laws of our kind—like their inability to hurt their monarchs.
I hadn’t been able to connect with that magic before I got my staff, and there was way too much I didn’t know about the magic behind my Court, but I didn’t know what else to do.
The sour scent of spider bile filled the air so thickly I almost couldn’t breathe anymore, and the elusive magic knocked into me.
Magic sparkled around each member of my Court—from Lady Theodora to Chase. Even the night mares, shades, and glooms glowed out on the lawn, and I could see the blueish light emitting from my truck cab that marked out Azure.
For a second, I thought only I could see it, but then Indigo yelped and Chrysanthe flailed around, running from her own magic.
By instinct, I slammed the base of my staff onto the driveway, and the magic peeled off them and rippled out, connecting us all together with an intangible web of magic.
The wild magic that hovered around us—normally pure and potent but untouchable—erupted.
Everything turned iridescent, glittering with a rainbow of colors. Wild magic that was so strong it made my teeth ache flooded the front lawn, burning brighter and brighter as the spiders hissed, trying to escape it.
Wild magic consumed them, disintegrating them into piles of ash as it mercilessly swept through the mansion grounds. It was beautiful to see the magic sweep the area, and when it slammed into me I tasted starlight and felt cool air wrap around me like a gentle hug.
The magic released me only once nearly all the spiders had been killed.
There were a few out on the lawn that had escaped, but Azure was running them down with the truck.
Not a single live spider remained on the driveway. Magic had killed all of them.
My lungs felt icy and my fingers shook—like I’d drunk a triple espresso drink in a minute flat. “That was something,” I said once I could find my voice.
“What was that?” Indigo wheezed.
“I don’t really know; I don’t think that was totally me,” I said.
I’d sweated under my jacket, which I was really starting to regret because the enjoyable coolness of the wild magic was quickly getting replaced with the biting chill of the January afternoon.
“I’d say the spiders indicate whoever originally had it out for you is still trying.” Chase stepped over a spider carcass—one Rigel had killed, judging by the precise stab wound in its head. “And I’d almost say they wanted you to know it was them.”
“Are we not going to talk about Queen Leila choosing a battle as the perfect time to experiment with magic?” Indigo sourly asked. She glanced up at Skye, who was pushing a stray lock of her nearly perfect hair back into place. “I’d figured you, at least, would back me up here, Skye.”
“Queen Leila has proven her ability to think on her feet during battles, and seems to encounter her most creative moments there.” Despite her even voice and stoic expression, Skye dug into a pocket of her black slacks and pulled out the small mint tin she stuffed with antacid tablets.
“Personally, I think it turned out great,” I said. “Is anyone hurt?”
Even though Indigo looked like she’d sucked on a lemon she seemed unharmed as she picked her way around dead spiders to join Lady Chrysanthe and Skye. Lord Linus was crouched in front of a spider body and was poking it with a dagger.
Already, Chase’s people were getting into cleanup/investigation mode. Some of them sifted through the wreckage to pick up empty magazines while another team loaded up with weapons and magic and set off across the lawn, following the spider tracks in an effort to figure out how they got in.
“Lady Theodora and I are uninjured.” Lord Iason wiped the serrated edges of his shield off on the snow, then collapsed it. “But I find myself inclined to agree with your companion, Queen Leila. You take far too many chances on the battlefield.”
“Indeed.” Lady Theodora’s voice was still entrancing as she shook off her leftover magic. “You are our queen. You ought to not be quite so…active, but instead be protected.”
Normally I would have said something about that sounding boring, or totally not my style, but when I really studied the fae lord and lady, I could see they weren’t criticizing me out of spite.
Probably another stupid tradition. I swear I could strangle that Original Creep of a king.
The Night Court in America was founded by a rather opinionated and pushy king who left a boatload of fussy laws and rules as his legacy. He was the one who’d decided that the night mares would choose the next monarch of the Night Court whenever the previous one passed on—which is how I got chosen. I still believed the night mares only settled on me because I gave them carrots and made sure they were fed and cared for when they randomly showed up on my parents’ hobby farm.
The Original Creep had also decided that every Night Court monarch had to get married before they were crowned—an idea that went over extraordinarily well with me as I’m sure you can guess, not!
Supposedly all of his regulations were to cap the Night Court’s power, and in turn keep the Day Court from getting too influential as well since our Courts were the only ones of their kind in the USA and were “fatefully entwined.” But I didn’t buy it. The previous queen had left the Night Court in such a mess the Court was on the brink of collapse, meanwhile my pal King Solis—the only monarch I counted as a friend—and his Day Court were doing great.
I offered the pair a brief smile. “I’m touched by your concern for me,” I said, genuinely.
Lord Iason warily rolled his shoulders back, then nodded.
Rigel unexpectedly set a hand on my shoulder and turned me in the direction of the mansion.
Not nearly as tolerant of him, I stepped out of his touch. “What?”
“You have to change,” Rigel said.
“Later. Chase, what do you think—”
“Not later, now.” Rigel stepped into my personal space, crowding me so I took a step toward the mansion to get away.
“What—why?” I blustered
Rigel picked up my right arm and held it above my head, putting the right side of my jacket on display.
Green ooze—the kind that had coated the spiders’ fangs—was splashed on my wool jacket, smoldering slightly as it ate through the fabric.
Indigo made a noise in the back of her throat and hopped her way over to me.
“You need to get rid of the jacket and your clothes immediately—the poison will seep down to your skin,” Rigel said.
Indigo helped me pull the jacket off—which she flung onto the driveway.
Some of the green ooze had already leaked through to the warm sweater I was wearing.
“Cut it off,” Indigo said to Rigel. “There’s no way I can get that sweater over her head without possibly brushing her with it.”
“I’ll call for some potions to be sent up to Queen Leila’s room.” Skye pulled her phone out of her suitcoat.
My heart thudded unsteadily as Rigel once again stepped into my personal space. Using one of his daggers, he delicately sliced through the fabric at my back, tracing his dagger down my spine.
Indigo helped me peel it off. “Rigel is right,” she grunted. “You need to go shower immediately—and take those health potions Skye is calling for.”
I scrutinized the thin, long sleeved shirt I wore under my sweater. “I don’t think it oozed through to this shirt, though?”
“You can’t risk it,” Indigo said. “This poison is excruciating, and highly toxic. You need to take precautions immediately.”
I shivered in the cold January air. “I thoug
ht spiders were venomous?”
“These fae spiders have a fun cocktail of venom and poison in their glands,” Chase said. “The venom is injected when they bite their prey, but the poison means if they merely brush it on their prey they can harm them as it’s absorbed through the skin.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, surprised by the werewolf’s knowledge of fae creatures.
“I studied up on them after the spiders attacked you at your wedding,” Chase said.
“I don’t think I tell you enough, but you are the perfect director of security,” I said.
“Inside,” Rigel said. “Now.”
There was something about the moment that felt normal. I almost cracked a joke about my bossy consort, but when I peered up at him I remembered how he’d walked away for two months with zero regrets, and didn’t understand why I was upset.
I swallowed, and my heartbreak left a sour feeling in my mouth. “Yeah, okay. Thanks everyone. Thanks, Azure!”
I waved as the naiad drove my truck back onto the driveway. She put the truck into park and rolled down the window. “I apologize for using your vehicle without permission. I shall begin maintenance and repairs, immediately.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “You were a total boss out there—be careful cleaning it up! We can junk it if it’s too dangerous.”
Rigel was herding me along by using his sheer presence and closeness to get me to move. I resisted him just long enough to see Dusk and Dawn, the dryad brother and sister who ran my stables, trekking across the lawn and making their way to the night mares, glooms, and shades—who greeted them with an assortment of howls and screams.
Good. Everyone is cared for, then.
My teeth chattered as the icy wind cut through my thin shirt, and I scurried up the last few steps, dragging my staff with me and making a hasty retreat into the mansion.
It wasn’t until I’d passed through the front foyer and wandered off in the direction of the staircase that I realized Rigel was the only one who’d followed me inside.
Chapter Seven
Leila
I planted my staff on the ground. “Hang on, Indigo can come with me instead of you,” I said.