by K. M. Shea
I rested my chin on the top of her head as I felt Leila’s steady breathing on my neck.
I just want to stay with her a little longer.
As soon as that thought took hold, I knew what the growing feeling was in my chest. I loved Leila.
I’d loved her for a long time, it had just finally grown and formed into something I could recognize as love.
The realization brought clarity to some of my seemingly inexplicable behaviors.
I wouldn’t have let her sleep with me if I didn’t love her—and I never would have told her about my family, either.
Maybe that was what tipped the scale and made me really love Leila—that she didn’t shrink back when I told her about fighting my own brother.
I thought she’d either retreat, or pity me. But she’d done neither of those things—she’d moved closer to me.
No, if I’m capable of such sappy thoughts it happened before then. Possibly when I discovered that she loved me—that she was upset I’d temporarily left her, even though it did baffle me at the time. I’d never been that special to anyone before.
She stirred, and my arms tightened fractionally around her—trying to assure her enough that she’d keep on sleeping, so I could sit here and hold her.
A moment passed, and her breath evened out again.
What do I tell her? How do I tell her?
Shocking as it was, I was not an upfront fae. I wouldn’t hide my love for her, but I was no Dion.
I need to show her that I trust her, I concluded. It’s the most precious currency I have.
Reluctantly, I slipped Leila off my lap and onto her bed. I slipped her legs under the covers and pulled the blankets up to her chin for her.
She instantly set about making one of her smothering blanket caves.
I stood up, intending to leave, but the ache in my chest made me reluctant.
Without thinking, I trekked over to the other side of her bed and sat down.
I remained upright—I wasn’t too keen on sleeping. The attack against her was still too fresh for me to readily lower my guard. But I could watch her this way.
She won’t care. And I can use the time to think. Just how much do I love her…and how much trust can I afford to give her?
Something deep inside me said I could give her everything.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Leila
“You feel a connection when you use the staff. But is it a connection with your realm, or with magic itself?” Solis asked.
I felt like a kid being given a pop quiz at school as I was seated at a table Solis had bossed Chase into bringing into the Night Realm. “Um…what’s the difference?” I asked.
“I bet it’s a connection with magic itself.” Fell folded his arms across his chest and scoffed. “Match her hard-headed bossiness with the power of her artifact, and I imagine even wild magic is unable to fight against her tyranny.”
“Question.” I held my arm up in the air. “Why is Fell here again?”
“Because we’re trying to troubleshoot your connection with your realm,” Solis reminded me.
I played with one of the orbs of light Solis and I had set up to light up the patio—which apparently was my adult classroom given that Linus had held most of my magic classes on the same patio. “Yeah, and I appreciate that. But why did you have to bring him?” I pointed to Fell and wrinkled my nose.
Solis shrugged. “He volunteered.”
“What?” I scowled. “No way.”
“Quite contraire, Night Queen.” Fell strolled closer to my desk. “Did you think I’d pass up this opportunity to witness your incompetence?”
Rigel—leaning against the stone railing behind me and petting Kevin and Steve who were pressed against his legs—stood up straight.
Instantly Fell turned around and too casually strolled back the way he’d come.
“Why didn’t you ask Verdant?” I woefully glanced at the moon hanging in the forever-night sky. “I bet she would have come.”
“I accepted Fell’s offer because he is hated by his own griffins—the symbol of his Court—and yet he manages to keep his realm in a relatively good order. I thought he might have some insights you and I lack as we are not disliked by our own people,” Solis said.
“Watch it, Day King!” Fell snapped.
“You know, I think Fell might be right, and I just feel magic itself,” I said.
Solis rubbed the bracelet on his wrist and frowned. “I see. You really do have an abundance of magical power. There must be a way to use it as a crutch and form a connection with your realm.”
“The Paragon hasn’t found any artifact that could achieve a connection.” I gloomily studied the table and shifted in my wooden chair. “He says he thinks it’s because fae are born with a connection to their realm. They just take it for granted that they have that connection.”
Solis and Fell exchanged glances, and I wanted to slump in my seat.
“The more I learn about this, the more hopeless it feels,” I whispered.
Behind me, Rigel stirred. He brushed past the shades and stood next to me, hesitation making his movements awkward.
When I looked up at him, he held my gaze, his dark, midnight eyes magnetizing. “We’ll come up with a way,” he said. “The Night Court won’t stop fighting for you.” He extended his hand. When I set my palm against his, he threaded our fingers together. “I won’t stop searching for a solution for you.” He bent over my hand but kept his eyes on me, even as his lips brushed my fingers. “I vow it.”
I believed him.
Obviously, fae can’t lie, but fae also take their vows seriously. Rigel was not going to let this go. He was going to struggle with me.
This is why I love him. His ability to bear with me.
Off to the side, Fell made a gagging noise, breaking the moment.
I groaned, then turned on the Day King. “Seriously, Solis. Even if he volunteered, why did you bring him?” I scowled at the bratty Autumn King. “He just ruined my moment with Rigel—do you know how rare those are?”
“Not very.” Fell paused in front of Kevin, but moved along when the shade yawned, flashing his awful teeth. “You two are the most twitterpated couple I’ve had the unlucky chance of witnessing.”
Rigel hadn’t let go of my hand, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was watching Skye and Indigo as they marched across the lawn, carrying gardening shears for the stressed-out gardener who was inspecting the dead greenery.
Beyond us, the castle scuttled with life as nobles and common fae alike crawled through the palace, dusting and sweeping the ramshackle structure down to the crumbling cornerstones of its foundation.
Skye had organized another “realm cleanup” day. I think it was to make me feel better about the place—and I was even more certain she’d told everyone that, because most of my Court had flooded the realm.
Mermaids and sirens were tinkering with the long dried-up fountains, some of the trolls were working on removing fallen timbers and broken stone from inside the palace, and Dawn and Dusk had convinced a bunch of the dryads to try resurrecting the dead plant life while the night mares, shades, glooms, and even Fax and Bagel roamed freely and inspected everyone’s work.
Even Lady Lysandra—who hated me because she had a thing for Linus—had come, and was criticizing the crumbling palace’s lack of draperies with Lady Demetria when I had last seen them.
I felt like I should go help the cleanup efforts, but I needed to listen to Solis and see if we could track down any way for me to artificially forge a connection to the Night Realm.
I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about this shortcoming.
Facing Manith and Angstra had reminded me just how happy I was as a half fae half human. I’d never regret the life I’d lived with Mom and Dad, and my human half was an important part of me.
But the inability to connect with the Night Realm…that still stung.
Mostly because it had been a struggle since I
was crowned, and I still hadn’t found a way to fix it.
But I haven’t been queen for a year. And I only recently discovered that I’m supposed to connect with the realm, but I can’t. It’s still possible we can find a way—especially with Rigel being crowned king and Solis and the other monarchs helping.
“Maybe we should consult Birch.” Solis flicked an orb of light away when it almost hit him in the head. “Flora is a mere consort, but I’m fairly certain that’s just to dissuade Birch’s enemies from targeting her. If she can feel a connection to the realm despite Birch being the true king, perhaps Rigel really can forge a connection to the Night Realm as a sort of auxiliary unit to you, Leila.”
“That’d be nice,” I said.
“Hmmm.” Solis nodded and paced back and forth in front of my table.
“Might we interrupt you, Queen Leila?” Skye asked as she, Indigo, and Chrysanthe climbed the stairs. The half fae paused on the top step, but Chrysanthe and Indigo ignored formalities and thumped their way across the terrace.
“How’s it going?” Indigo asked.
I tried to smile for the trio. “Any discussion is improvement. I hope. How are the cleanup efforts?”
Indigo and Chrysanthe exchanged looks, then turned to peer back at Skye.
Skye pressed her lips together in a thin line, then—picking up on my low spirits—she smiled. “Quite well.” She picked her way across the terrace, avoiding a half-destroyed statue. “Given the increase in our workforce, we’ve gotten much more done than I thought we would.”
Chrysanthe slapped her hands on the table. “Chase called me by my name!”
“That’s awesome, Chrys!” I said.
“Yeah, and Lord Dion isn’t acting smarmy toward Skye, but he sighs at her back a lot,” Indigo faithfully reported.
“The queen doesn’t need to know that,” Skye hissed.
“Sure she does,” Indigo said. “She charged me with observing the progression of your relationship.”
Skye scowled at me.
I batted my eyelashes. “It’s not my fault you won’t tell me when I’m wondering all for the sake of our friendship!”
“This is precisely why I won’t tell you!” Skye scowled at me, but I could see the way the corners of her lips shivered as she fought a smile.
“You bother yourself with the romantic entanglements of your staff?” Fell asked me.
“They’re my friends,” I corrected. “And always.” I winked and added, “If you ever happen to have a ‘romantic entanglement,’ you can bet I’ll be involved in that, too!”
Solis smiled brightly. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Leila.”
“She said that only because she’s hoping Fell is idiotic enough to fall in love with someone strong tempered enough to punch him in the face,” Rigel very accurately interpreted.
I placed my free hand over my heart and closed my eyes. “That would be a real dream come true.”
“Hey!” Fell complained.
I laughed and squeezed Rigel’s hand—surprised he was still holding mine. But my stomach dropped to my toes when I heard a familiar rumble.
I bolted from my chair and grabbed onto the terrace bannister, leaning out over the drop.
No, please—not now!
The rumbling continued, and I saw the wards shake.
“The ward is failing!” Skye shouted.
Not again!
I grabbed my staff from where it was leaning on the table and tossed it over the bannister like a javelin. “Solstice—Eclipse!” I sat on the bannister and swung my legs over it, dropping down to the gardens.
Rigel reacted a second faster than me, gracefully touching down first. “The closest section of the ward is there.” He pointed in the direction of the lake where I’d once summoned a hydra.
Eclipse and Solstice charged up to us, tossing their heads.
“Got it.” I leaned my staff against Eclipse’s shoulder, squirmed my way onto her back, and then carefully dragged the staff up, resting it in the familiar formation with the metal top against her neck and the base on her opposite flank. I was only a little jealous when Rigel sprang onto Solstice with ease.
“Why is it that whenever we are facing a particularly dangerous ride I never get a bridle or saddle?” I asked, trying to fake some courage for myself.
I didn’t want to face those wards.
I was about to ride into a battle that I could only lose. But I had to go—on the off chance that I might be able to use sheer force and nullify even a tiny shred of the failing wards.
Even if the knowledge that I was going to fail left a sour taste in my mouth, even though my fingers shook knowing that there was no way I could support my realm, I had to go.
Rigel—higher up given Solstice’s bigger build—maneuvered the big gelding so close our legs touched. My consort then leaned over, bridging the gap between us, and kissed me on the lips, gently capturing my chin with one hand.
“I know,” he said, acknowledging my horrible feelings and fears even though I hadn’t voiced them. “But the Court loves you, and I made a vow. I’m with you, Leila. In everything.”
His fingers brushed my chin as he released me, centered himself on Solstice, and nudged the big gelding into a trot, and then a canter once he cleared the garden area.
I sucked a breath of air in, then patted Eclipse’s neck with my free hand when she twisted her head to nose my foot. “I’m fine,” I assured her.
The mare pinned her ears as I fixed my grip on my staff, but when I squeezed her sides she responded, bursting into a trot and then a gallop. We caught up with Solstice before he and Rigel reached a thicket of half dead trees.
Eclipse was the fastest of my night mares, and she showed it as we streaked through the thicket and across a dead field. I couldn’t even hear the pounding of Solstice’s hooves when we crossed another open stretch, passing by the enormous lake.
It took everything I had to hold on to Eclipse—riding stirrup-less is never a picnic, and when a horse is going that fast it’s terrifying.
By the time she slowed, my hair was windblown and my eyes had teared up so I could barely see.
I slipped off her side and staggered, nearly dropping my staff on my own head in the process.
The pale yellow ward—its runes glowing—blazed through my tears. I toddled in its direction as I shoved my hair from my face and used my staff to fix my balance.
When I could finally see straight, I tapped my staff, summoning my purple magic, then slapped my palm into the ward’s rumbling surface.
My purple magic spilled into the yellow wall as I tried my hardest to supplement its failing power. My shoulders shook, and I channeled so much magic through my staff it made my head spin.
The barrier starting flickering, and I whimpered.
No—please! We can’t lose more!
I dug my heels in and shoved my staff in front of me, but I felt the ward start to creep in as it failed despite my purple magic swirling on the surface—there, but unable to connect.
Rigel appeared at my side. He slipped an arm around my waist and, holding a dagger, slammed his fist into the sputtering ward.
Gray started to swirl in the purple hues of my magic as Rigel angled himself in a way that braced my body.
I leaned into his chest—for both comfort and support—and clenched my jaw as I poured all my magic into the barrier.
My heart caught in my throat, and angry tears slipped from my eyes.
Please, please work! It’s not my fault—and it’s certainly not my Court’s fault.
As the ward shook it shoved me backwards. Rigel managed to hold us for a moment, but he was also pushed back, our feet digging trenches in the dirt.
We can’t lose more! My Court needs the Night Realm! Please!
I don’t know who I was pleading with, but a sob got caught in my throat as the metallic taste of failure filled my mouth.
My purple magic—fast and potent—had gushed farther down the ward. I coul
d see it racing across the surface—it was about halfway around the circuit of the entire barrier.
And it’s still not enough. Because I’m not enough.
The ward sputtered, and I held my breath—dreading the moment it actually collapsed in.
“No!” I sobbed.
The glowing runes sizzled, and for a moment they went out, until something slammed into the barrier and they burst back into life, blazing yellow again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Leila
On either side of us, Eclipse and Solstice screamed as they braced their shoulders against the ward and leaned in.
Farther down the line, Nebula tossed her head and reared, ramming into the ward as if it was an enemy she could flatten. Twilight had planted his rear against the barrier and braced himself, his ears pinned as he mulishly leaned back. Comet and Blue Moon were there as well, pushing against the barrier as they screamed their challenge.
I felt the whispery brush of the night mares’ magic as it mingled with mine on the barrier. I held my breath.
Could they…?
The runes shook and sputtered again, dashing my hopes.
No, the barrier still rumbled as the wards prepared to fall in.
A howl filled the air, and my shades appeared. Kevin planted his front paws on the barrier and leaned into it while Steve snarled and body slammed it.
Larry, Bob, Barbra, Mary, and Tom slid between the night mares, pressing their shadowy bodies against the ward.
A shriek that was pretty similar to the scream of a half-drowned goblin tore through the air, and Muffin and Whiskers appeared. They pounced on the wall, digging their front claws into it.
But night mares, glooms, and shades kept coming. The wild ones that had opted to remain in the Night Realm appeared, pressing their claws, hooves, and paws against the barrier as they joined the lineup.
Something slammed into the ward directly above my head, and a laugh and a sob caught in my throat when I saw one of the trash griffins had flown straight into the barrier. It skidded down the magical surface, but with my hand I felt when its tiny essence mingled with all the shades, night mares, and glooms. Tiny pinpricks of essence pinged up and down the ward, and I saw a flock of the trash griffins had flung themselves at the magical barrier, shedding a few feathers as they stuck to the surface like glue.