“Mortals.” Miss Mack finishes.
I don’t much like her innuendo. Plus, “I know Roue’s supposed to drink blood.” I mean, my girl has fangs, for crying out loud. “She’s a baobhan sidhe, practically a Faerie vampire, but that doesn’t mean she can’t—”
“She needs blood,” Miss Mack says pointedly. “And she’s been eating burgers and fries for three years.”
Put so simply, I get it. My girl’s been starving herself.
Guilt slams into me, so heavy, I slump deeper into my seat. “She… So, it wasn’t Jardin’s spell at all?”
“Rouen probably didn’t even realize she was starving herself.” Glamma gentles her voice. “And when Jessamine’s spell unleashed her dark side, it took over completely. But now that it’s broken, Rouen has a chance to find balance.” She looks to me. “You can help her, but you have to accept her fully. Dark side and all.”
I want to retort, to say that I do accept Rouen’s dark side…
But that wouldn’t be 100% true.
I’ve seen the horrible things Fae do when they fall to their dark side. Rouen’s father nearly Moribund-infected his entire race, including his own daughter. He tried to eviscerate me and drain out all my blood.
I don’t want to lose Roue to the evil inside her.
I swallow hard. Next to me in her chair, Rouen stirs, mumbles something.
Glamma’s eyes get serious, flinty. “The only way you can defeat Jardin is to take your hearthstones back by force. And the only way to do that is for you and Rouen to combine your wills, your power, your souls. You must become one in every way.”
My thoughts spin, my heart racing. “I want to talk with Rouen. Alone.”
Miss Mack’s expression turns to distrust. “I’ll have to hex the room to make sure she doesn’t escape.”
“As long as it won’t hurt her,” I say.
“It shouldn’t.” Miss Mack shrugs. “Unless she tries to break the hex.” She turns on the overhead. More equations spill across the lowered screen, dancing like yellow disco lights. She flicks past them as if each is a slide. “No, no…not that one.” She turns the knob, each time a different set of equations. Quadratic equations, algebraic sums, geometrical formulae...
Finally, she stops, squints at the equation. “Ah, here it is.”
It’s no formula I’ve ever seen. It looks like sum of life(death) - velocity x movement2?
She points her broom at it. “Spellify!”
The equations flash a brassy yellow, and the lines shift and change into a five-pointed pentagram, glimmering with arcane symbols. It lifts into the air, and then the five points split apart into falling yellow orbs.
Mid-air, the points turn into yellow sparrows. Cheeeee!!
They flit around the room in poofs of glitter, marking a circle around it. Magic tingles down over me, sending shivers across my skin.
I give Miss Mack the side-eye. What is it with Witches and glitter anyway?
Glamma looks like she wants to say more, but she practically pushes Miss Mack out the door. “Come, Mary. We’ll wait outside.” The door whumps softly shut, locking me and Roue inside.
Silence closes over the room. I don’t have to wait long though, because Rouen’s starting to wake. Anxiety twists my stomach. Glamma’s right. We can only defeat Jardin if we team up without any reservations.
But how can Rouen and I be one if she’s split in two and I can’t accept her dark side?
22
ROUEN
Enemies by fate
Can we ever break
This cycle?
- “Breakdown,” Euphoria
This is not my best look. Beaten up by a pocket púca, heartstrung by a bain sidhe who turned out to be my long-dead mother. I haven’t even begun to wrap my head around that (or the fact that she’s Contracted and has to do Jardin’s bidding). Now I’m magically bound to a chair, with my beautiful, charming enemy—my dearest love—leaning over me.
My chest aches, and it’s from more than having my heartstrings torn out.
Looking at Syl, seeing the light and hope that shines from her beautiful face, I feel my soul reaching out to hers.
Can we truly heal the rift between us?
Can we truly heal Faerie, or should we go to war?
I’m at a terrible crossroads, the fate of all my people on my shoulders. I’ve chosen wrong so many times before. I can’t afford to make another mistake.
Jardin’s tearing the multiverse apart piece by piece. Even now, I feel her pull on the Dark Faerie hearthstone, my realm sliding closer to ruin with every passing second Outside, rain batters the windowpanes, hail and lightning slashing the night.
Pain strikes me to the heart. What I want doesn’t matter.
Syl and I are enemies. It has to be this way. My people are depending on me.
And then Syl whispers my name like it’s a prayer, and all my emotions go haywire, soft and mushy.
My heart leaps, but I harden it against her. “So now what?” I flick my fingers—the only things I can move—at my bonds, stirring up the honeysuckle and patchouli smell of Miss Mack’s witchery. “Am I your captive?”
Syl’s cheeks pink. “Uh…” Her gaze travels over my magical bonds. “No? Yes… I’m not sure.”
I steel myself against her adorableness. “You could win easily if you just killed me.”
Her eyes fly wide. “K-kill you? No, Roue. I would never!” Her face twists, the hollows beneath her eyes deepening. I see how she’s suffered at Jardin’s hands. And mine.
Guilt lairs inside me, but I mentally stomp a motorcycle boot on it. Down, you.
Deep in my soul, a sharp tug steals my breath. Jardin’s using the hearthstones. At the same time, a tremor racks Syl’s small frame. She’s feeling the same pull on her hearthstone, the same slow, crushing death of her Faerie realm. I try my best to stomp on my concern for her too, but it escapes. “You don’t look so good.”
She smiles in that adorable, self-deprecating way of hers. “Yeah…you don’t look so hot either.”
I try to laugh it off, but the truth is I feel like a mile of rough road. Still, I can’t let her know my weakness. That I’m hurt, that I just want…
She leans close, touches my cheek. “Don’t you remember?”
This. This is what I want.
Her warm touch, soft fingers stroking my cheek, her sweet vanilla scent wrapping me up. I want to look into her grey eyes and kiss her, go on silly dates and chase her across the rooftops of RVA. I want to fight beside her and, at the end of the day, I want to fall into bed with her, holding her until we fall asleep in each other’s arms.
I want it to be her and me. Against the world.
“I remember everything.” Pain stabs my heart. I close my eyes. “But it’s not that easy.”
“Because of your dark side?” Her voice is soft, but it may as well be a dagger to my heart.
A dark chuckle escapes me. “That’s only the smallest reason.” Without faltering, I meet her gaze. “It’s part of me.”
Thunder booms. A sudden flash strikes the windows, illuminating everything in a weird green glow like the Northern Lights. A solar flare. It lights Syl’s face, her eyes glimmering molten grey. “I know.” She touches my knee, the warmth of her skin seeping into mine. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to hide it.”
Pain washes over me. “It’s not your fault, princess. It’s mine.” A sharp stab, an old wound. It’s true. My throat aches over the words. “I’ve never embraced my dark side. Not fully. I’ve always been too worried about becoming my father. Cruel, merciless, a bad king.”
Hope shines in Syl’s eyes. “We can figure it out. Together.”
She’s so sincere, it kills me, but I yank away. “No. We’ve tried, Syl, and I…” I swallow hard. “I love you, but it’s time we stopped thinking about ourselves and started thinking about our people.”
Hurt flinches on her face, and I almost, almost feel it down our soul-bond.
&nb
sp; But Syl only straightens up. Determination sets her chin. “Look, all I know is Miss Jardin’s going to destroy both our realms unless we do something. I know it’s bad, Roue.” She’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed, her anger making her fierce.
That’s the thing about Syl. You think she’s soft, then the next second, she throws a switch, and she’s all fire and passion and power. My hormones go a little crazy.
“We need to team up if we’re going to defeat her.”
“Team up?” I stare at her, dumbfounded. “I don’t have control of my dark side yet. See how easy it was for Jardin to control me? You shouldn’t trust me. Now or ever.”
“I believe in us.” She folds her arms stubbornly across her chest. “We fight together, defeat Jardin, free your mom. And then we can decide who, if anyone, is going to be Overqueen. And who’s going to control the hearthstones.”
Her crazy plan stirs excitement in me, but I play it cool. “So, a temporary truce then?”
“Yup.”
Don’t do it, Rouen. This is the cause of all your misery.
But looking at her, I can’t resist. Those summer storm-grey eyes draw me in, the magnetism between us undeniable, irrefutable. “All right.” I cock my head, eying her. Syl’s a queen too, and both of us swore to do our duty to our people. “What if it turns out we really do have to kill each other?”
“It won’t.”
I grit my teeth as another wave pulses from the hearthstone. Outside, the storms howls at the windows. “Humor me.”
Syl sighs and tosses her red curls from her face. “All right, Miss Pessimist. Because even if you think our love isn’t the answer—it is, by the way—I promise not to kill you. And you know I’m good for my word.”
I do know that. Hell, ALL of Dark Faerie knows that the fair Fae queen is a straight shooter, loyal, just and true. The whole shebang.
I relent. Just a little. “I can’t really help you tied to this chair.”
“Okay.” Without hesitation, she switches off the overhead, and the equations fade.
I’m free. I stand up, roll my neck and shoulders. Despite the hearthstone trying to wreck me, I feel pretty good. At least physically. “We fight them, and then, if we can’t pull Faerie back from the brink, our truce is off, and we fight.”
“Fine.” She holds out her hand.
“Fine.” We shake on it.
“But, Roue…” She steps in, pulling me toward her. At 5.9, I’m much taller than her, but I still feel a little off balance, even though I could simply walk away. She’s not preventing me.
My love for her is.
Hey grey eyes meet mine, and the emotion—the love—in them shines so bright it nearly burns me. I’m so not ready for that right now. Because the truth is: I’m beginning to believe in her crazy plan, and her. And us.
So is my heart.
Gah, no! I can’t afford to give in now. My people need me. I raise my chin, trying to summon a snarky retort to derail all the emotions flying around us. The tension so thick I could carve it with my knives.
Syl’s soft smile hurts. “I’ll accept your dark side, Roue. If you show it to me.”
Black…heart…melting, melting…
“I’ll fight the whole world for you.”
…melted.
I lean in to her as she leans in to me. I’m noticing how grey her eyes are, how mesmerizing, how beautiful her face, the freckles on her nose, more than there are stars in the sky. Flash! Memories of us lying on her bed, my fingers tangled in her hair, her head in my lap while I count her Irish stars. The images come fast and hard. They leave me shaking and shook.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe we really have a chance together.
“Syl…” I say her name, but I mean so much more.
Her breath feathers across my face, warm, soft. Her eyes close, mine too. Our lips brush—
Slam! The door bursts open, breaking Mack’s containment spell as it hits the wall, and we jump apart.
Syl’s smiling at me, but I can’t smile back. Can I afford to follow my heart when it’s so messed up? Can I trust my dark side not to betray her? Thankful for the distraction, I watch Georgina Gentry stride into the room wearing skinny jeans, a leather jacket, and Docs. The bulge in her jacket tells me she’s got her.357 Magnum. I sniff the air. Iron bullets too.
At least she’s not taking any chances.
“Tell me what’s going on right now.”
Syl and I exchange a look. We teamed up to defeat Jardin and the bain sidhe, but our first opponent: Syl’s mom.
And hell, does she look angry.
23
SYL
There’s a spell for everything
- Glamma’s Grimm
For the first time in a long time, Roue and I are on the same side. I’m so giddy I could pass out. Calm down, Syl. You’re not out of the woods yet. The Fair Faerie hearthstone yanks at my soul, Miss Jardin leveraging its magic to pull Faerie apart at the seams, and my plan hinges on me and Rouen becoming one—when Rouen herself is split in two.
Okay, it’s at least 50% cuckoo, but most of my plans are, really.
At least my Avengers team is here.
“Hi, Mom.” She looks like she’s ready to kill me (or Rouen, really). “I know what it looks like, but give me a minute to explain.”
“One minute,” she agrees, her grey eyes all flinty on Rouen.
“Great!” As I hustle, filling everyone in, Mom drags a chair closer, making a circle with Glamma, me, and Rouen. Miss Mack fills the blackboard with more complicated-looking equations. This time, the chalk does all the work, writing and scribbling independently while she paces.
Roue watches, suspicion in her eyes, but I see beneath that.
She’s looking for a way out of this war too. Neither of us wants this. Our people just expect it of us.
Once I’m done laying out our problem (the Faerie apocalypse + Miss Jardin x 2 hearthstones = suck) and our plan (me + Rouen = victory), I turn to Glamma. “Okay. We’re in a time crunch, but we need to hear the whole story about you and Miss Jardin, when you were queens and Faerie was whole.”
Shock registers on Glamma’s face, and I think she’s going to wave off my concern with her usual “pish-tosh,” but she doesn’t. “All right, dovey.” She sighs deeply, like it comes up from her toes and shudders over her whole body. “We were so young.”
Her grey-green eyes go sober, and she speaks, weaving the story for us.
“Back in the old days, Faerie was one realm, one people, and I ruled them as Queen. Gloriana the Good, they called me. Under my reign, each Fae lived and worked, loved and mischiefed as they willed, and I loved them all equally.” Glamma’s voice tremors wistfully. “Even then, Faerie was the linchpin of all the dimensions, and my people visited them all, using their great powers to spread magic, mirth, and mayhem throughout the multiverse.”
Whoa, that’s a lot to process.
I try to wrap my brain around Glamma as Queen of the Fae as she continues.
“But of all the dimensions, my people loved the mortal realm the most. Many tied themselves there, leveraging their magic through the natural and ancient wonders of the world. Stonehenge, the Isle of Skye, the Great Barrier Reef, Takachiho Gorge, the Cliffs of Moher, the Valley of Flowers, Machu Picchu—just some of the places the Fae claimed as their own.
“But when humans began experimenting with technology, they neglected the natural places, and their world began to die. Many Fae sickened. Cut off from their magic in the mortal realm, they died by the hundreds, then the thousands. My people cried out for help. I was desperate, so when a certain pocket púca came to me with a solution, I jumped at the chance to save my people.”
“Jardin,” Rouen snarls.
Glamma nods. “She was brilliant back then too, and just as evil, although…I did not see it. I was smitten. In love.”
Whoa, Glamma in love with Miss Jardin? It doesn’t even seem possible.
She doesn’t deny it though. “I made Jessamine
my queen. I trusted her, even though, in my gut, I knew her solution felt wrong.”
I’m on the edge of my seat. “What was it?”
“She wanted to leverage Fae magic through technology, but in doing so, we created—”
“The Moribund.” Roue and I say it together.
I blow out a breath at the same time Roue sits up straight. Tension strings the air. My heart’s pounding so hard I can hear the blood in my ears. “Glamma?” I prod.
“Many of the Fae felt as I did, that the Moribund was dangerous, the cost too high. Jessamine and I argued, then fought.” Glamma grimaces as if tearing open an old wound. “She was the first to unleash her magic on me. I fought back. Our people took up arms for our honor.” Sorrow eclipses her eyes. “As a result, Faerie split into two realms, Fair and Dark.”
Roue looks thoughtful. “Then how did my family come to rule?”
“Your mother outsmarted Jessamine and won the throne.” Glamma’s gaze flits to Roue. “She married your father and he took over.”
“But that doesn’t explain how Miss Jardin got Ravella to sign a Contract with her,” I say, mind still spinning through all the details.
“No.” Glamma sniffs. “But you’d have to ask one of them.”
“All right. Enough memory lane.” Rouen cuts to the chase. “Let’s get to the current state of Faerie.”
Glamma chin-nods at Miss Mack. “Over to you, Mary.”
The math teacher’s magic chalk finishes with a flourish. A multitude of overlapping circles, ovals, and equations fill the board. Patchouli, honeysuckle, and chalk dust wafts in the air, and the diagrams animate into 3D, gently rotating like planets on tilting axes.
I’ve seen a lot of complex mathematical equations, but this one? It’s off the charts.
She points to the center where dozens—hundreds—of spheres distort and bend and rotate. “Here’s a rough diagram of all the different dimensions. They all overlap, and they have one linchpin.” Her chalk races over two fused spheres, one light and one dark.
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