The Queen's Crown (Court of Midnight and Deception Book 3)

by K. M. Shea

  The words were barely out of his mouth before I lowered my ward, grabbed him by the wrist, and yanked hard, swinging him behind me.

  He must have fallen down based on the wet splat he produced, but I didn’t look back. I was closing in on my real enemies.

  Angstra nocked an arrow in her bow and swiveled to face me. “It will give me such great pleasure to finally—”

  I dropped the slew of wards I’d been holding. They sprouted around Angstra and Manith, forming a complete sphere that held them prisoner, just like I’d done with the fae in the Summer Realm.

  Before the barriers had finished forming I copied Solis and slammed a second round of wards into place, supporting the original layer.

  Angstra screamed and hammered inefficiently at the shield with her fist. “He betrayed you! Kill him!”

  “You cannot still be deceived by him,” Manith scoffed, his voice muffled in the enclosed space. He was trying to distract me with anger. Holding my staff, I could see he was building power in his spear.

  Time to strike.

  “I’m not an idiot,” I scoffed.

  I glanced at the night sky and tried to mentally reach for it. Holding my staff—and concentrating—I could feel the glittery stars, which felt like soft sand, and the night sky was a brush of velvet.

  “Everything Solis had said to me dripped with fae wordsmithing,” I said. “He shied away from giving me a reason for attacking me, and he’d practically screamed at me that he couldn’t stop trying to kill me.”

  Solis was being forced into this—undoubtedly through the favor he owed Manith and Angstra. I wasn’t going to abandon him now.

  Though I was going to make him have one heck of a heart-to-heart with me after this.

  When Angstra shot an arrow at the inner layer of my ward, it was easy enough to draw stability from the second layer to reinforce the first, closing the crack up at a much faster rate.

  Wow, this is nice! But my brain feels like it’s being split about twenty different ways. I’m not sure how long I can hold this.

  “Rigel?”

  I don’t know how he knew, but he did.

  My silver-haired husband raced toward my double shields. He skidded to a stop at the edge of my ward, and slipped through when I shakily parted two of the shields to give him access.

  I slammed the wards back in place behind him, sealing him in with Manith and Angstra.

  Manith laughed. “You really are foolish.” He brandished his magic-charged spear at Rigel. “Your pet assassin cannot hurt us!”

  My entire body tensed as I tugged at the Night Realm—although I didn’t feel a connection to the land like I should have, when I held my staff I could feel the magic of the place. Come on, work!

  Just as Manith raised his spear, I flooded the enclosure with the night.

  Encased by my wards, it was as black as tar. The darkness was so thick I couldn’t see Angstra—who was screaming—or Manith.

  “Rigel, you can’t see them, can you?” I strolled closer to the enclosed dome, which swirled with velvety darkness.

  “Correct,” Rigel said from inside the shield.

  “Then it wouldn’t be your fault if you, say, released an attack in an effort to try to get out of my wards. After all, it wouldn’t be your fault—you have no idea where they are, and you’re just trying to break my ward.”

  Silence finally settled across the front lawn, and then Manith and Angstra began screaming.

  Chase, the night mares, and about ten guards stalked up to me and my wards, moving into position as occasional flashes of light cut through the shadows inside the barrier.

  I had to grit my teeth and really concentrate when Rigel started throwing his powers around.

  It felt like he hit everywhere all at once, and my wards wavered with the pressure of his magic.

  After about ten seconds I lost one wall in the sphere.

  Hoping for the best, I let the rest of the wards falter and drop, while I started spinning a second group, just in case.

  Rigel stepped out of the darkness.

  A moment passed, and he threw Manith at Chase’s feet, followed seconds later by Angstra.

  Neither of the fae were holding their weapons. Both were terribly bloody, but still breathing.

  Chase slapped a pair of anti-magic cuffs on each of the fae, as Chrys and Linus did the same to Solis.

  I let go of the frantic clutch I had on the Night Realm—I didn’t totally get how I had dragged it into this world, but I’d fumbled my way through this whole fight, so that was good enough for me.

  Releasing the wards—and my death grip on the Night Realm—almost made me fall over in relief.

  “That worked—I’m so happy, I totally didn’t think it was going to work.” I sat down on the soggy ground—I was too lightheaded to care if my butt got wet or not—and stuck my head between my knees.

  “You didn’t know it would work?” Skye’s voice was lined with hidden thunder.

  “Nope. I just had confidence in Rigel.” I sighed in relief. “I’m so good at choosing who to marry—and at hiring people. And I pick good friends! I’m such a good judge of character—go me!”

  “How can you say that?” Solis demanded. “Why didn’t you throw me in there with Manith and Angstra?”

  When I no longer felt dangerously wobbly, I managed to lift my head.

  Solis wasn’t resisting as guards stood on either side of him, though he was watching in shock as one of the medic guards sliced through the sleeve of his robe to look at his bullet wound.

  “Why?” I repeated. “Because you’re my friend.”

  Solis’s face crumpled with pain, and he sagged in the guards’ grasp, dropping to his knees.

  Rigel scooped me out of the muck of the lawn and helped me stand. Together, we walked over to Solis, arm in arm.

  I crouched down in front of the Day King and put my hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine, Solis. We’ll get this figured out.”

  Solis groaned as if his very soul was pained, and he shook his head. “I never deserved your friendship.”

  “Friendship isn’t about deserving,” I told him. “It’s about knowing you’re never alone.”

  Rigel—he’d remained standing—made a noise in the back of his throat.

  I looked up just in time to see the Paragon park his car in the driveway and fling his door open.

  “I’m here!” the elderly fae declared. “Just let me get Aphrodite out of her car seat—great, greasy, gravy! What happened here?”

  I leaned into Rigel’s leg and tried to summon the strength to stand but failed miserably. “Paragon, I am so glad to see you.”

  We didn’t get any answers until the following day.

  Once we’d explained to the Paragon what had happened, he phoned the Dominant, the Ancient, the Magister—the top werewolf, vampire, and wizard in the USA.

  Killian Drake and Hazel Medeis arrived with a task force of vampires and wizards and they—with Chase and some of our own guards—took Manith and Angstra to a secure location where they could be held, and their magic neutralized.

  The Paragon drove off with Solis, saying only that it was unsafe for the Day King to run around loose until we knew whatever bargain that bound him to Manith and Angstra had been broken.

  The next day the Paragon told us to meet him at the library so he could bring us to his pocket realm—and give us some answers.

  I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Chase, Linus, Indigo, Skye, Chrysanthe, and Rigel surrounded me like a mob when the Paragon zapped us in.

  I thought I’d feel awkward, or maybe still a little hurt, but instead I mostly just felt a comradery with them, because I was almost certain they hadn’t slept at all the night before.

  Solis had black bags under his eyes and had aged about ten years.

  The Paragon looked fine, but there were five Starbucks cups on a table by his tea cabinet, so I don’t know if it was just his insane stamina, or if he’d been guzzling caffeine to keep h
imself going.

  The Paragon had escorted us out to the garden, where Solis was already waiting, then he went back to retrieve a tea caddy and—most likely—Aphrodite.

  Solis stood and convulsively clutched a log that he was probably supposed to toss on the fire. The Paragon had swapped out the garden furniture since I had last been here with a massive stone fire pit encircled by couches that overflowed with cushions and warm throw blankets.

  A fire crackled in the pit, but although Solis held a log for it and it smelled faintly of browned marshmallows, I was pretty sure it was an illusion and the fire was magic-made because I didn’t see or smell any smoke.

  Flowers still bloomed around the garden—even though it was way too cold for anything to be budding, much less sprouting, yet. But the little pond and waterfall that trickled from the brick walls that encased the garden were frozen over. The waterfall was actually really beautiful with frosty, teal-blue icicles that dripped down the little rock formation.

  Garlands entwined with twinkling lights elegantly hung from the glass ceiling and were tied off with festive red bows. The ground was still mostly moss, but despite the glass ceiling, there was mysteriously still a patch or two of snow.

  The smoke-less fire warded off the slight chill to the air, but the gardens were a lot warmer than the slushy outdoors we’d trudged through while waiting for the Paragon to pick us up.

  I turned in a circle, trying to find the marshmallows I’d scented out earlier, while wondering if I did find them whether I really wanted to eat them. The last time I’d been here the Paragon had essentially gotten all the monarchs excluding me dead drunk on snacks and tea.

  It took me two twists before I realized all of my group—Skye, Indigo, Linus, Chase, Chrysanthe, and Rigel—were staring down Solis, who was visibly wilting.

  I strolled across the garden and beamed at the Day King. “Hey, Solis! Did the Paragon convert you into a coffee drinker overnight?”

  Solis stared at me. “You still haven’t changed your mind?”

  I plopped down on a cushion next to where he was standing. “Changed my mind about what?”

  “You aren’t furious with me? Don’t you want me to pay for the pain I’ve caused you?” he asked.

  I tilted my head as I peered up at him. “Are we friends?”

  Solis smiled grimly at me. “I don’t have a right to claim the title after what I’ve done to you—and the Night Court.”

  “Just answer the question, Solis,” I said.

  He rubbed his forehead. “We’re friends—if you’ll have me.”

  I patted the cushion. “Then sit down and tell me about it—about everything.”

  Solis stared down at me. “How can you be so forgiving? You know I tried to have you killed—how can you just accept this?”

  “Because we’re friends,” I said. “Which means I know you only would have done any of this if you had no choice. Explain.”

  Solis warily looked from me to my friends—who still hadn’t moved from the pathway.

  Oppressive silence strangled the gardens, and then Linus laughed as he sauntered up to the couches.

  “Stop looking like someone stole your pony, Solis.” He sat down on the Day King’s other side. “You were always Leila’s favorite from the monarchs. And you forget, the only person on this earth who hates Nyte more than you is her—she was saddled with the mess that queen left behind. She’s going to be more sympathetic than anyone else.”

  Solis shakily inhaled, then nodded.

  What does Nyte have to do with any of this—more importantly, how the heck does Linus know this all relates to Nyte?

  I leaned forward so I could peer at Linus across Solis. A part of me had to wonder how I’d ever been so blind to think that Linus was a genuine idiot.

  Solis relaxed a little, but his gaze strayed to my friends again, which was when I realized it was Rigel he was looking at.

  Rigel shrugged. “I tried to kill her, and she married me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Leila

  A bark of laughter escaped from the Day King, and he slumped to his seat as Rigel took the spot on my open side.

  His joke seemed to break the tension, and everyone else wandered over, selecting seats around the fire.

  The Paragon bustled in at that moment, pushing a cart loaded with tea implements. Sitting on the cart, was the Paragon’s hairless cat, Aphrodite.

  Aphrodite was pink skinned and usually curled up in warm blankets, or was being carried around by the Paragon in a car seat or a baby sling.

  Today, however, the Paragon had bundled her into a thick, fleece lined sweater, and had somehow stuffed her into a winter cap, which had large triangle tents on the top of the hat for her ears.

  She was so swaddled in cloth that when she jumped on the couch, she waddled instead of walked across the cushions, fearlessly marching across Rigel’s lap in her quest to reach me.

  “Excellent—it looks like everyone is getting along marvelously! Aphrodite approves,” the Paragon announced.

  Aphrodite purred and sank her claws into my blue jeans as the Paragon shoved a cup of tea into Solis’s hands. “Here,” he said.

  “Thank you, Paragon.” Solis unthinkingly took it and sipped the tea.

  I considered telling Solis that the Paragon routinely charmed his tea, but I suspected the Paragon had given Solis a different, calming tea based on the way Solis’s tension eased pretty much immediately.

  “The bargain Solis had with Manith and Angstra has been broken,” the Paragon announced. “And Solis has reneged on his deal with Rigel, who should now be free to talk about the contract Solis took out with him.”

  “How’d you get the bargain taken care of?” I asked.

  “Blood and force?” Rigel suggested.

  “No, we did not physically force Manith and Angstra to break the bargain, you bloodthirsty cub!” The Paragon stood up straight and smoothed his mustache. “I, being the Paragon, I have the ability and training to break bargains! It is part of my role, you know.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Linus said. “You got Killian Drake to scare them, didn’t you?”

  “I did not!” the Paragon said shrilly. “I broke it myself—and it took most of the night I’ll have you know.”

  “We believe you,” Skye said soothingly.

  “Yep,” Indigo piped in.

  Solis stared into his cup as the Paragon puttered with the tea tray, passing out cups to everyone—except me and Rigel, who refused. “I remember this tea,” Solis said.

  “I should think so.” The Paragon snorted into his beard. “I call it ‘calm the heck down.’ I used to feed it to you all the time when you came to my pocket realm, hot and bothered about Nyte and the destruction she was wreaking on her Court.”

  Solis winced. “I see.”

  “I regret it, you know,” the Paragon said.

  “The tea?” I asked.

  The Paragon glared at me. “No.” He flicked his eyes to Solis. “That you came so often to seek help, and I didn’t do enough.”

  Solis shrugged. “You are the Paragon. You cannot show favoritism.”

  The Paragon sat down and patted his lap as an invitation to Aphrodite.

  The cat turned her head in his direction. I swear she glared—the pink skin of her forehead wrinkling so she looked angry—and then she turned away from him, making the tassels attached to the ear sleeves of her hat bob.

  It seems someone doesn’t appreciate being wedged into a sweater.

  The Paragon sniffed at his cat—who ignored him—then huffed and tried to toss his exceedingly long beard over his shoulder, but accidentally got his hand caught in it and yanked his own head.

  “Ouch! Bother this—” The Paragon cut himself off with a growl. “Anyway. You’re wrong, Solis. I should have done better. My only defense is I am not nearly as…wise as many think me to be, and while I have a great deal of power and can break many fae rules there are other laws that hold me back. But we
don’t need excuses now. The Night Queen and her Court need an explanation. I shall start.”

  The Paragon turned his attention to me. “You know how bad the Court was when you were made queen. It was on the brink of collapsing, was deep enough in debt it’s a wonder the mansion still had electricity, and the members of the Court were entrenched with battling each other in the misguided notion that power would help them survive.”

  “I lived through it, Paragon,” I dryly said.

  “Yes, but you need the reminder. Because as Nyte dragged her people down, the failing Night Court—linked to the Day Court—dragged Solis and his people down as well,” the Paragon said.

  “I obviously didn’t have to deal with any debt,” Solis said, taking over the narration. “Our financials are our own. The largest problem was the destabilization of the Night Realm. Every time the Night Realm lost land, so did the Day Realm. No matter how much power I poured in—and despite the fact that it hadn’t been much of a problem previously. In addition to lost land, the towers of the Sun Palace started to crumble. Plant life began to wither—the Day Realm was failing.”

  Solis took another sip of his tea—which must have had some kind of relaxation charm given the way his shoulders loosened up. “Of course, the Day Realm didn’t spiral as badly as the Night Realm, but it was bad enough to make my citizens afraid. We took some damage to the towers—structural integrity was beginning to be a problem. Around then the Day Court began to experience political unrest as the fear grew and festered. And as long as Nyte did her best to break the Night Court, the Day Court would suffer, and I’d be unable to fix it.”

  “And the Paragon couldn’t help?”

  Solis grimly shook his head, and the Paragon sighed as if he was in pain.

  “Sometimes I wish I had different powers.” The Paragon stared into the fire. “But aiding with the wards is something I can’t do given that—like you, Leila—I don’t have a connection to any Court.”