by May Dawson
Before I could thank her, she murmured, “Use your magic, Fae king. You’re making us royals look shabby.”
For a second, she actually made me feel awkward. Then I quirked an eyebrow at her. The discomfort that I’d felt a second before already seemed ridiculous; Raura felt like the bratty younger cousin….which she was. It was easy to believe we were family.
“Do you want to tell me how to do that?” I asked.
“Doesn’t everything come naturally to you?” she asked, her voice lightly mocking. “You could stop the rain itself if you so chose.”
I glanced up at the sky; the thought of trying to change anything about those heavy-laden clouds seemed insane. “That seems like a bad idea. You might not have butterflies in the Fae world, but there’s still a butterfly effect.”
She just stared at me. “I never know what you’re talking about.”
She tucked her hand over my arm, and her magic sprang up around us both, shielding us from the rain.
Arlen headed through the rain toward us, his head down against the driving wind, his dark hair tossed by the breeze. When he looked up, the expression written across his angular face was grim.
“News from Faer,” he began.
“Can a girl get a cup of hot tea before she has to discuss that whole mess?” she asked lightly.
“I’m trying to talk to him. The king,” Arlen said gruffly, looking past her to me.
Raura dropped her hand from my arm. “Arlen, you are always a treat.”
“We all know I need Raura,” I said, determined to break the tension that suddenly hung in the air. “And you, Arlen.”
The two of them stared at me for a second, and then Raura took my arm again. The chill in the air between them seemed to dissipate, at least for now.
“Look at the mortal, so tactful,” Raura said to Arlen. “You should be more like him.”
He scoffed. Something had happened between them, something uglier than their usual banter.
“If he were a mortal, you’d be queen,” he told her.
“And I’d be back in my own world, watching cable television and spending time with my incredible girlfriend who is not at all related to me,” I said. The two of them turned skeptical gazes on me, but I was still pretty happy about that turn of events. All Maddie and I had to do was fight our way back to each other from separate worlds, and we could finally have our happy ending. “I’m here, though, so what the hell is going on with Faer?”
“Faer is the would-be High King of the four courts,” Raura explained.
All three of us raised our voices to talk over the wind that blew hard around us, shaking the entwined tree branches high above so that green leaves and white flowers fell along with droplets in a slow cascade.
“He has a sister, Alisa, who challenged him for the throne,” Arlen explained.
“She spent years trapped in the mortal world, poor thing, but she’s back now,” Raura explained.
“Faer wants to see the new ruler of the spring court. My theory is he wants you to pledge allegiance to him, as Turic once pledged to his father Herrick.” Arlen’s cold gaze met mine. “If I were you, I wouldn’t do that.”
“What happens if I do?” I asked. “In my world, the leaders of countries lie to each other. And… everyone else. It’s kind of just what they do.”
Arlen scoffed. “In our world, promises mean something. You can’t make a vow and take it back.”
“Sure. But I’m not planning to stay here forever.” There was a limit on how many promises I’d ever have to keep.
Raura shook her head. “I don’t know why you’d go back to that dreadful world of yours. I bet if they had the option, mortals would line up to escape into our realm.”
“Maybe.” I wasn’t getting drawn into yet another conversation about here’s all the ways your world sucks. It was still home—and it was where I’d find Maddie again. That was what mattered, once I fulfilled my responsibilities to my court. “What happens if I don’t make that pledge?”
“Faer sends his stringers to find you,” Raura said lightly.
“Or maybe just burns villages until you decide to turn up,” Arlen said.
“It’s hard to be a decent type.” Raura’s voice was mock-sympathetic; she must have seen the horror on my face. “Turic didn’t care about the villagers; that made ruling a lot less stressful for him.”
“You were his primary source of stress, weren’t you, Huntress?” I asked her lightly. She could pretend all she wanted, but the princess had fashioned herself into a superhero to take on her father and his cruel reign.
Arlen had been in love with the Huntress, and Raura had obviously been in love with Arlen, so I wasn’t sure why the two of them were malfunctioning and fighting each other now. Fae. They’re all drama queens.
“You are so sweet to me,” Raura told me lightly, and Arlen’s face darkened.
I took her hand off my arm and let it drop. “I know you Fae love your games, but I don’t want to play. I’m going to ask Fenig for her advice.”
Arlen and Raura looked at each other as I headed toward the castle. The stragglers of the funeral procession walked ahead of us in through the gates that led away from the forest.
A moment later, Raura and Arlen caught up to me, flanking me on either side.
“I’ll play nice,” Raura promised, although I doubted she could keep that promise; the girl was chaotic good personified.
“Tell me more about Faer,” I said. These two needed to be kept on track with a mission.
“His father, Herrick, somehow amassed all kinds of power. People say he made a deal with the Fae of the northern islands.” Raura’s voice dropped dramatically when she said the northern islands, but when I didn’t react, she went on normally, “Of course that doesn’t sound scary to you, but the Northern Fae are very scary to us. They’re blood Fae.”
“Well, that sounds terrifying,” I agreed. “Why exactly are they called blood Fae?”
Please don’t let them be vampires.
“They’re like vampires in your world,” Raura said. “Not the cute sparkly kind. The terrifying kind that use mind control and feed off people.”
“They keep mortal servants,” Arlen said. “Unlike anyone in our courts, except for Summer.”
“Another thing that makes us think Herrick aligned with the blood Fae, because the other seasonal courts all rejected the idea of mortal servants and living tithes a long time ago,” Raura went on. “Anyway, somehow Herrick became the most powerful Fae—he had more magic than any of us—”
“She hates to admit that,” Arlen said.
Raura might’ve taken offense, but she flashed him a cool smile. “I do. But our new king here has to understand how well and truly fucked we are, to borrow one of the best of mortal words.”
“And now his asshole son, Faer, is supposed to be High King as well as the king of the summer court. The High King rules over the other seasonal courts. But his sister, Alisa, has been ruining his plans,” Arlen went on as the three of us trekked up the long hill. I could barely see the castle ahead of us through the mist.
“I love that girl,” Raura said.
“You almost murdered her,” Arlen reminded her flatly.
She raised her hands. “It’s in the past. We’re besties now.”
Arlen snorted. “Poor girl. As if she didn’t have enough trouble.”
“Anyway, ever since she went off and started a rebellion, Faer has been trying to make everyone swear allegiance to him. Sooner or later, the two of them will duel for the high throne and he wants every bit of power on his side he can amass.” Raura smiled up at me. “Enter you.”
“I see,” I said, and raked my hand through my hair. “Can I go home now?”
I didn’t mean it. I’d promised to stay long enough to see things set right in my kingdom. My plan was to have Raura take the throne and rule as queen of spring, though; she was a natural leader. I just couldn’t leave this kingdom behind while it was still i
n tatters, not when the people thought they needed me.
“You really want to live in another world when you could be a king in this one?” Arlen asked me skeptically, crossing powerful arms over his chest.
“This world doesn’t have Maddie in it,” I said.
Raura said to Arlen, “God, I love him. He’s so cute. Why can’t you be more like him?”
Arlen gave her a long look. Then to me, he said, “You don’t want to go anywhere near Faer’s court right now.”
“Tell me what stringers are,” I said, still stuck on that part of Faer’s threat.
“Nickname for Faer’s guards,” Arlen said briefly, and mimed a noose around his throat. “When villages rebel, they kill everyone in it and string them up from the walls outside the keep.”
“Everyone?” I asked. I knew the Fae world was brutal as well as beautiful, but my mind stuttered over the image of innocents hanging from the walls, including children.
“Everyone,” Raura confirmed.
“Why do you have all these vile people running your kingdoms?” I demanded.
“Um, I’ve been to your world. I don’t think you can talk,” Raura reminded me.
“So if I pretend I never received his letter, he’ll start murdering our people?” I was just talking out loud; I already knew the answer. “I’ll go, then.”
Raura and Arlen exchanged a look. We’d reached the mouth of the keep, but they came to a stop.
They were obviously worried, but I said, “Listen. I’ll try to find a way out of it. But if I swear allegiance to Faer, it’s a personal vow, right? I’m not swearing on behalf of the spring court itself.”
“Correct,” Arlen said.
“And his sister, Alisa, seems like she should be a better ruler?”
“Anyone would have to be,” Raura said lightly. “But yes. She’s got some very mortal sensibilities right now, but she’s decent. She cares for her people.”
I regarded her skeptically. “I’ve got some very mortal sensibilities.”
“I know, but we forgive you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Easy day. If I can’t avoid it, I pledge allegiance to Faer to buy us time, we help Alisa take the throne, and then I get to go home.”
“Yeah,” Arlen echoed. “Easy day.”
Our voices seemed to be lost to the fog. It felt as if we were alone in the world.
Then a roar broke the still of the fog. It was hard to tell how far away it was at first, with sounds muffled by the weather, but the next second, the ground shook faintly under my feet.
“Let’s see if we live long enough to write Faer back,” Arlen said, his sword already in his hand.
I drew my own sword. Raura was already smiling—the girl loved a fight—and I realized I was smiling too.
“Come on, cuz,” she said, before she bounded into the mist, and I charged after her. Arlen cursed and followed us.
Chapter Eight
Chase
“Help me with the bodies,” Clearborn said, once we’d seen Lex and Penn escape the academy grounds safely. He glanced at Blake. “Can you go check on Skyla?”
Blake glanced at the guard house where the bodies were, then said, “Ah, yeah. Sure.”
As soon as he was gone, Clearborn stepped over Titus’s legs to open a supply locker. He drew out two tightly folded body bags and tossed one to me before he began to shake the other loose.
“It worries me that you keep these here as an academy essential,” I said, then realized how stupid that sounded when we were using them.
But Clearborn just smiled faintly. “How’d Blake do?”
“Fine,” I said, then felt a sudden flood of relief. “Better than I would have. He didn’t wolf out.”
“He has a good teacher.”
I scoffed at that, and Clearborn paused, fixing me with one of those level looks. Apparently, we couldn’t backtalk him, even if it was to be self-deprecating.
But I wasn’t sure I needed advice from the man with the body bags.
The two of us spread the crinkly black bags on the floor besides the bodies, then knelt.
I suddenly didn’t know where to put my hands to grip Titus and help swing him onto the material. I didn’t want to look stupid in front of Clearborn, though, so I finally grabbed his shoulders and heaved. He was heavier than he looked; I’d never realized before that the dead seem somehow heavier, as if our souls lighten the load of carrying our bodies around.
The two of us moved on to the second guard. Clearborn was breathing hard as he straightened, pressing his hand to the place where he’d been shot; I couldn’t tell if the blood stains on his shirt were from that first bullet or if his wound had opened again.
“Can I go get your car and bring it down here, sir?” I asked.
He nodded and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Good thinking.”
I ran up to the academic building and got his car, drove with it down to the front gate. For a second when I arrived back at the gate, everything seemed preternaturally still, and I reached for my gun, afraid that someone had killed Clearborn while I was gone.
Then he stepped out of the guard shack, and relief flooded my chest. I jumped out and hustled to pop the hatch, before I had to face the guard shack. At least it was easier to move the bodies now that they were zipped into the bags.
“Let’s take them up and put them in the cafeteria refrigerator,” Clearborn said when he settled into the driver’s seat. “Then I need you to take Blake and go on patrol.”
“Blake?” I asked, as I drove the car up toward the cafeteria. “I thought maybe someone should stay with Skyla.”
“Mm.” Clearborn apparently wasn’t going to dignity what I thought with a discussion, and then I realized maybe he was right. We were under siege. I just didn’t want to leave my sister alone. He must have been musing whether or not Blake was too young to use, because he said thoughtfully, “He’s not a bad age for the change.”
Was there such a thing as a good age? I’d been forced into this life; now I didn’t know if I would choose it or not, if I had things to do over.
“You and I have never talked much, have we?” Clearborn mused as we carried the bodies in to the dining hall.
The hall was dimly lit, just the emergency lights glowing softly, and our feet seemed to echo through the empty space. It was hard to believe those tables and chairs were filled with students laughing and yelling and occasionally fighting not that long ago.
Given how much trouble Jensen, Rafe and Lex had found themselves in with Clearborn, I was pretty happy he and I hadn’t had much reason to chat. “No sir.”
But I knew he had his notes he kept on me, the same way he kept notes on all of us. I wondered what they said.
“Unlike the rest of your team,” he said drily, “you’re not much of a talker.”
“Well, you know the rest of my team. I don’t get much of a chance.”
Clearborn smiled faintly. The two of us moved the body into the fridge. He was moving slower than I was, and I had to match his pace, but other than that, there wasn’t much sign he’d taken that bullet not long before.
“I’ve got my pack on the way,” he told me as the two of us headed back out into the sunshine. “Blake won’t have to shoulder a patrol for long.”
“No,” I said slowly, “but he’ll have to come here, won’t he?”
“Why?” Clearborn fixed me with a skeptical look.
“Well, he’s a shifter now.” And I’d barely talked about that with him. I owed him a long conversation, and I had no idea where to start.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure how I felt about it.
“You came here as part of a deal,” Clearborn reminded me. “Your brother didn’t make a deal. He didn’t get a choice.”
Clearborn’s harsh tone shocked me, even though it was true.
“I don’t know how to talk to him about it. How to begin to say I’m sorry.” That wasn’t true. I knew how to say sorry; the problem was that sometimes, sorry doesn’
t matter.
I hesitated, pushing my hands in my pocket as I glanced away. I should shut up; Clearborn didn’t want to hear me whining.
“You know, none of the rest of us got a choice about being wolves,” Clearborn said, and his kind tone surprised me. “And we don’t resent being wolves.”
“But for all of you, there was never any other option,” I said bitterly.
“All of us experience things where we didn’t get a choice,” Clearborn said. “Life changes swiftly and irreversibly and we have no choice but to adapt.”
“Some of the packs seem to like being wolves a bit too much,” I said, since they’d aligned with the witches to keep their wolves while the rest of us suffered.
“Maybe,” Clearborn agreed. “Is Blake mad at you? Because he didn’t get a choice?”
“I haven’t even gotten the chance to talk to him yet, really. We were just worried about Skyla, and then….” I gestured vaguely at the disaster around us.
But I kept thinking about my own change, how terrified I’d been when I lay down in one of Dean McCauley’s guest rooms to be sedated. I didn’t remember anything else from that day, until I’d surfaced from a wolfish rage, trapped in the dean’s trashed garage. Maybe it was better that way.
“It didn’t feel like much of a choice for me. I couldn’t think of any other way to protect my little sister and brother.” My voice came out bitter. I hadn’t protected them. If I’d let Jen give up on all three of us and they’d gone into foster care, they would have been safe from Kit—from Alice Munroe—and the wolves that aligned with the Coven of the Day. Trying so hard to save my siblings had doomed them to the same life I took to save them.
“Maybe you should discuss how they feel before you decide to pickle yourself in guilt,” Clearborn said.
“Blake’s always pissed at me anyway,” I said. Nothing I did was good enough for my brother, who was always yelling at me because I wasn’t home all the time, because I wasn’t a good enough brother, because I wasn’t Mom.
“Maybe he’s not angry at you. Maybe he’s just angry, and you’re the one person he knows isn’t going anywhere,” Clearborn said. He clapped my shoulder and said, “Call me if you run into anything strange on your patrol. Anything.”