At Risk Page 6

  I thumbed through another yellowed document. This one described Aine’s consort. The male Finvarra defeated to win Aine’s heart, or at least her throne. According to the author, the male was not all that popular in Faerie. If Fin hadn’t killed him someone else might have.

  I replaced the scroll and sipped at a mug of spiced cider, settling back in large chair. The archives contained hundreds of scrolls and manuscripts, most a recorded history of the Cascade Sidhe. Unfortunately, it was more likely most of the information regarding Queen Aine would be found in the archives at the Court of Faerie. I didn’t wish to travel to court and might not be allowed to go. The archdemon had put a stop to most travel.

  Of course if Fionna was successful, this research would prove unnecessary.

  Father thought he had made it impossible for us to travel the lines, but Fionna and I had learned to take and store small amounts of energy to use in an emergency or if an unexpected opportunity presented itself. She was currently using hers to search for her mother, the very queen I was supposed to be researching. I hadn’t heard from Fionna since she left, but I was hopeful she’d made the journey safely.

  My sister and I no longer saw eye to eye on what was best for Faerie. She wanted to be back in power. To reign again with her dynamic mother by her side. She felt what she did was worth the risk. To her, death was preferable to living the life of a common fae.

  For me, as long as Charles lived and thrived, I wished to live as well, even if I only saw him on rare occasions. He was my heir, the end of my line. But more importantly, he was my son and I was his father. I’d seen him twice a year for eleven years, an agreement I’d forced Jacqueline to accept. At first he was more an object of my hope for the future, rather than a family member. Eventually I’d started to look forward to those meetings more than my rational brain could understand. At fifteen he’d told me he no longer wanted to meet with me and I was shocked by how those words had shredded my cold heart.

  Now, more than anything, I wanted to be on the field of battle when my son destroyed Naberia. Father would never agree. I’d be left behind in Faerie.

  It had taken two hours of pleading for Father to agree to my working so closely with Jacqueline. But he stepped into my mind and my heart on a regular basis now that I was in Cascade. Any sort of privacy was hard won. In this particular case my motives were clear. I was not a danger to any member of the Cuvier family. To anyone at all, at this point.

  Dread passed over me in waves of aching pain at the thought of never seeing my son again. He could already be dead in the Demon Realm or may die on the field of battle. I’d lost everything - the bulk of my magic, my position, my physical form - and couldn’t reconcile losing him as well.

  I grunted in exasperation. My mind had wandered and I wasn’t paying attention to my task. A locked chest sat on a shelf in the far corner of the room. It was not protected by spells, so I used a touch of magic to open the lock.

  “What are you doing here?”

  A familiar voice forced me to my feet. “Your majesty.” I bowed to my father, a male who could shred my mind or welcome me back to the family with open arms. I was simply hoping to survive this conversation. If I lied, he would know and he would send me away. Or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. “Jacqueline Cuvier sent me to gather information regarding Queen Aine.”

  “Did she? What have you found?”

  “Very little. The archives at court would bear more fruit.”

  “You should have asked me. What is it she wants to know?”

  “She heard someone speak of her earlier. I believe Lady Cuvier feels Queen Aine may be a danger to Charles.”

  “It should not be possible for Queen Aine to return to Faerie.”

  “So you say.”

  “You disagree?”

  “The ley lines run through the far reaches, your highness. She may have become more powerful than ever.”

  “You were always quick, Winter.”

  By addressing me by the name I’d taken in the new form he’d forced me to wear, Father reinforced the truth that he would never again call me Kennet or refer to me as his son. I didn’t crave his comfort. I’d never been one to show affection, never been shown affection as a child. Laughter was a punishable offense in my early years with only my sickly mother and little sister as company.

  Bile born of anger rose to my mouth. I sent to his mind instead of losing control where someone might hear. “I am surprised you remember anything about me at all. You were rarely around when I was small.”

  “I accept the blame for that. But my queen was ill and threatening to take vengeance against my children, including you and your sister. It was better I kept away.”

  “Easier for you.”

  “Winter…”

  I stared out the window, unwilling to look into the face of the male I’d prayed would rescue me from my abusive mother. “My younger sister and I took the brunt of our mother’s wrath. I tried to protect Korwyn but who could I go to? Everyone deferred to you and Queen Aine and you wanted nothing to do with us or Jorrenn, or Dinestri, or Argon. The children you sired outside of your binding to Aine. Only Caelen and Fionna were golden.”

  I turned and met his dark gaze, in control once more. “Kill me if you wish, but don’t send me away. Charles is the only reason I have to live. You’ve made it impossible for me to speak to him as his father, but I will never turn my back on him the way you did me.”

  “I’ve asked for your allegiance to Faerie and you have given it, but your heart may have chosen a second path. I will use this allegiance to protect our realm.”

  King Finvarra, my father, drew the ancient spelled dagger he carried in a sheath on his leather belt.

  Whether he intended to kill me or force me to swear an oath, I wasn’t sure. I knelt at his feet.

  “Will you swear by blood to do everything in your power to protect Charles above all others, even if Faerie itself seems to turn against him?”

  “Yes. Yes, Father, of course. He is my son.”

  He’d never allowed me to call him Father. He didn’t correct me today.

  “Will you also swear to protect your sister Korwyn and her family as you have in the past?”

  “Yes, Father.”

  “If the queen returns with Fionna, I will be forced to defend Faerie and the realm’s magic. To protect it from the harm Fionna or Aine may do. This is the weight I carry. It will mean I cannot travel to the Mortal Realm.”

  “I understand, Father.”

  “I also charge you with the protection of Jacqueline and Garrett. Charles is your first priority, but I fear his spirit will fade if he loses one of his parents. Faerie needs him.”

  “I cannot swear to protect Garrett.”

  “You must, or I will certainly send you away.”

  Worse than any death.

  “The Dark Lord of the Wild Hunt will collect you if you betray the conditions I set forth in this binding spell. Reveal Charles to his enemies and you will suffer for time eternal. Faerie will be lost if the archdemon imprisons or kills him.”

  “I understand and I swear to obey the binding.”

  A goblet appeared on the ground by my knees as the king slashed my wrist and his, drops of our blood mingling as he softly spoke the spell. The words he used were archaic, rough, powerful beyond my knowledge. I’d secretly studied the ancient version of our language but did not know these particular words. Under the king’s rule, learning them was an offense punishable by death.

  The room melted away and the king reached toward the sky, calling for a sacrifice. A peregrine flew to his arm. The king was gifted with a powerful charisma he put to use on these occasions. Animals could not resist his magic.

  The falcon’s blood joined ours in the goblet. The king added a mixture of herbs and the liquid turned clear. We drank and my body sang with the magic of the spell, then bent double as violent cramps assaulted me.

  “To remind you of what lay in store if you forswear the oath.”
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  My father’s motives were difficult to understand. His words could be cryptic, his actions confusing. In the past I might have believed this to be a terrible error on his part. I was stronger because of the spell. But I was now bound to Charles’ goals and dreams in a far-reaching way.

  He’d given me purpose, where before I had dreams.

  I stayed on my knees. “Thank you for trusting me, Father. No one else ever will, but this is enough.”

  He offered me his hand and helped me stand.

  “That is true for Kennet, but not Winter.”

  “I will not let you or Faerie down.”

  The goblet disappeared and the King of Faerie smiled. “Now where is Autumn?”

  7

  Charlie

  Our wary group walked over the ledge and under the three-story archway which led inside. I came to a halt. When I’d helped the original group of dragons carve out this space, I’d done a rough job. The walls had been jagged and unfinished. The floors uneven. But they’d assured me it was fine and that I hadn’t needed to go any further.

  What my team and I beheld now was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. The smoothly polished walls were decorated with colorful tiles in some spots, gold-framed paintings in others. Tapestries with scenes depicting dragons carrying their demon servants into battle hung over the largest sections. Someone had even carved out elaborate alcoves where podiums displayed jeweled artifacts from centuries past.

  The floor was polished stone, inlaid with bits of gold and gemstones. Colorful rugs in shades of red, gold, and blue covered most of the expanse. The ceiling was at least four stories high and large windows that appeared to lead to other rooms or landing platforms lined the highest walls in rows.

  “You’ve made some improvements since I carved this out for your people,” I said.

  Wyn laughed. “It was a sweet effort on our behalf. We did appreciate it.”

  A young male arrived and bowed to Wyn.

  “My servant will see you to your rooms where you may bathe and dress for dinner. Clothing will be provided if there is a need and the…um…garments you are wearing will be laundered.” His disgusted look settled on Jay. “Food will be set out in the room to the right. I’ll join you there before the hour is up.”

  We made the deadline and were ushered into a room with a tan sectional couch laid out in the shape of a giant letter C. Positioned in the center was a very large low table gorgeously carved with symbols I recognized from some of the books I’d read with Isaiah when I studied with him. Platters and warming trays of delicious smelling food took up most of the space on a large sideboard.

  Wyn greeted us by name, then announced, “Help yourself to whatever you like.”

  Feeling refreshed after my bath and anxious to begin negotiations, I heaped food quickly onto my plate and chose a seat at the end of the C-shaped couch. Brina sat beside me. Jay picked a middle position, digging into his two dishes immediately and Isaiah chose the bottom end of the C. We met gazes and he nodded approvingly. Always pick the position where escape is easiest.

  Wyn pulled a chair over and sat near my end, leaving a few feet between us. So much for an easy escape.

  “The food’s great. Thank you,” Jay said after swallowing an enormous mouthful.

  “I’m glad you are enjoying it.” Wyn picked up a serrated knife and carved a piece from a loaf of brown bread, broke off a chunk and passed the rest of the slice to me. “We begin?” He chewed and swallowed.

  “Yes.” I pulled a bite sized piece from the warm slice and swallowed it down. The agreement we’d fashioned with a slice of simple bread was as binding as a blood oath. Wyn offered peace, safety, the willingness to listen with an open mind. I offered respect in return and the promise I would not do anything to disrupt the meeting or our stay in his home even if he chose not to help us. I’d been shocked earlier to see he could teleport. His aura was bright and healthy, but I hadn’t expected to see him use high level magic.

  Wyn didn’t share a slice of bread with any of the others, but then I’d told him I was the one to be held responsible for any actions that broke the truce.

  I brushed my hand along the arm of the couch. It seemed to be made of corvo hide and not something more sinister. Dragons from the DR were rumored to eat more than just livestock.

  “When might we meet with the dragons?” I asked.

  “Soon.”

  Isaiah curled his lip into a snarl. “If Mother catches wind of what you’ve done, she’ll take over your minds and force you to fight in her war.”

  “Your ma can’t access a dragon’s mind and our masters will protect us, so you’re worrying for no good reason.” He smiled at our group. “Would anyone care for a goblet of blood? It’s fresh from your hosts.” Wyn lifted a jug.

  Our silence had the demon smiling again.

  Isaiah grunted. “Dragon blood is their greatest treasure. They don’t pass it around. They also don’t keep it in jugs.”

  “As true as can be. We only serve high-level demon blood to guests.” Wyn’s mouth curled in a crooked smile.

  “Like Isaiah’s?” Jay blurted out, his eyes wide.

  “Not at all. We would never serve inferior blood to guests.”

  Brina scowled. “It was a joke. I think.”

  “Right ya are, lady fae.”

  “I am called Brina.”

  “Brilliant Brina. Bewitchin’ Brina. Beauteous Brina.”

  “Charles’ Brina,” my female snapped back, placing one hand on her dagger hilt, the other on my thigh.

  “As you say.”

  “Is this corvo skin?” Jay rubbed his large hands along the bumpy surface of the couch.

  “Durable and washable. Requirements when living among grown male dragons who act like younglin’s half the time.” Furnishings were sparse in the cavernous rooms. Probably a good idea when dealing with creatures of that size.

  “Are the dragons even here?” I asked. “Isaiah and I have gifts for our hosts.”

  “Isn’t it sufficient that our masters have allowed you inside? That they’ve agreed to accept the code of Xenia and not make a meal of ya?”

  “We need their help. I wouldn’t disturb them otherwise.”

  “Do ya truly think we would do aught to harm the residents of this blighted realm or any other? We are not the enemy.” He turned back to me and smiled, his amber eyes glittering. “What kind of help do you need from the glorious creatures we serve?”

  “Do you truly represent your masters?” I asked.

  His grin grew wider. “I do.”

  Isaiah turned away with an exasperated sigh, then poured himself more wine. Brina held out her glass and he filled it to the top.

  “The archdemon has declared war on the residents of Faerie. She and her army intend to fight the battle in my realm. The Mortal Realm. The supernaturals and humans who live there are in danger.”

  “What happened to the dragons who helped in the brat’s rescue?”

  “They have agreed to carry warriors on their backs during the battle. In addition, King Finvarra has created two dragons who may also be used to fight.”

  “Created, did he?”

  I winced. “He may have fetched them from somewhere. I’m not really sure.”

  “Kidnapped them?”

  “No, not that. I’m sure they agreed.” Actually, I wasn’t certain at all.

  “But what do ya want from my dragons?”

  “I’m here to request an alliance and to negotiate terms.”

  “On behalf of someone else or on your own?”

  “This is on me.”

  “But we support him.” Brina’s fierce gaze gained Wyn’s complete attention. “Thousands support him.”

  “Oh truly, thousands?” He didn’t sound at all impressed.

  “My people. The Kelpie clan. The goblins.” She ticked off our allies.

  “Khent?”

  “Yes. And the shifters and vampires and werewolves in the Mortal Realm.” Brina’s tone gre
w louder with each species.

  Wyn raised his hands to call for peace. “Thank you. Your point is well taken.” He shifted his gaze to me. “Do you understand why I have to ask these things?”

  “Yes, and I take no offense.” I hesitated. “I would be willing to pay for your masters’ services.”

  “Servants and dragons travel together at all times.” His sly smile pushed all my warning buttons.

  “Then we’d offer payment for your services as well. I’m gathering an army.”

  “And you will swear on the code and the bread we broke that Finvarra didn’t send you?”

  “I’m not bound to serve the King of Faerie, or anyone else. He doesn’t know where I am or what my purpose is.” My comment was met with silence. Maybe I needed to try another angle. “Getting involved in a war outside your territory is a lot to ask of your masters. If the dragons don’t care to fight, perhaps they’d be willing to protect some of the innocent occupants of my realm.”

  “It’s as I said, brother.” A large male strolled from the shadows. Tanned skin, wavy brown hair that hung to his waist, and the same amber eyes as Wyn’s. Dressed in plain breeches and an oversized white linen shirt, he carried an enormous sword at his hip.

  “My brother, Malek, is a hothead, so watch what you say.” They smiled at each other, sharing a private joke.

  Malek circled toward Isaiah. “Why have you returned to the realm? Doesn’t your ma want to eat your heart?”

  “It would give her indigestion.”

  “Which is why none of us has considered it,” Wyn said. He might have been serious. Hard to tell.

  Malek shook his head and frowned. “Dragons don’t fight in interspecies wars.”

  “Charles and I are discussing the possible benefits,” Wyn said.

  Malek laughed. “If the glorious and ancient Dragons of Darrielle decide to ally their magnificent selves to you and your cause, what would they get in return?” His little speech was delivered with a touch of drama.

  “A safe place to live,” I said.

  “Our masters have a safe place to live.” Malek turned in place. Arms stretched out.