I’d heard many stories about Queen Maeve— few of them complimentary— so I expected her to present an impressive figure. But I hadn’t expected her to look so ….. old.
Gray hair— not silver like Rhea’s but wool-gray like she needed a good dousing with Miss Clairol— fell around a roadmap face. Her skin was the color of fresh cream but sagged around the jaw, like gravity was winning the tug-of-war against youth. If I’d been pressed to guess her age in human years, I’d say she looked to be in her midfifties. Hard midfifties.
She wore a midnight-blue silk tunic with strands of silver woven into an elaborate Celtic design on the high tab collar and wide cuffs. A silver band etched with the same pattern circled her forehead. Once she sat, her posture was as rigid as the wood of her throne, which was carved with leafless, skeletal trees and a waning moon. A large tapestry behind the throne depicted a crest bearing a cauldron, spear, shield, and boulder.
Orpheus began to lead all of us toward the Queen, but a bejeweled hand rose to halt our progress. She waved over the steward and whispered something to him. After a moment, he straightened and called out in a high, clear voice, “The mixed-blood and the demon are not welcome.”
I stiffened in surprise. “What the—”
Rhea’s papery-smooth hand found mine and squeezed hard. “Quiet, child.”
“But—”
Adam nudged me with his elbow. I jerked my head in his direction, upset he wasn’t getting my back on this. “She’s still pissed about Banethsheh,” he said in an undertone. “I promise I’ll tell you everything after, but you have to chill.”
The urge to rebel threatened. But then the Queen’s cold eyes found mine and narrowed. That’s when I realized Adam hadn’t been overstating. Even though I’d killed the Queen’s turncoat ambassador, Hawthorne Banethsheh, in self-defense, she obviously blamed me for the entire matter. Granted, I probably could have handled it better, but blaming me for his death was ridiculous. It’s not like I forced Banethsheh to try to kill me on behalf of the Caste of Nod. But the Queen obviously was in no mood to be reasonable.
I held her gaze brazenly for a moment before backing down. I hated doing it, but I also knew that my presence in the room would only complicate an already tense situation. And right now it was more important to learn Maisie’s location than to salve my wounded pride. Those around me let out a collective breath, as if they had been expecting a trademark Sabina outburst. I nodded at them and fell back to join Giguhl. The demon met my eyes, his expression both impressed and empathetic.
The procession moved forward. Adam turned to shoot me a grateful look, but the fae guards standing on either side of the massive maple doors closed it in his face. Which left Giguhl and me standing in the antechamber like two a**holes without invites to the party of the year.
“Well, that sucked,” I said.
Giguhl bumped my shoulder. “Oh, I don’t know. If you think about it, it’s probably for the best.”
I looked up at him. “Why?”
“Face it, Red. Even if the Queen had forgiven you for setting fire to her ambassador, how long do you think you’d have lasted in there before your big mouth had her calling for your head?”
I pursed my lips. “You have a point.”
He put an arm around my shoulder. “Of course I do.”
A throat cleared behind us. Calyx, the fae who’d led us in, stood by the doors. A fae guard stood behind her with a long sword resting in a sheath on his back.
“If you’ll follow me,” Calyx said, “I’ll show you to the Autumn Garden. Your mate will join you there once he has been excused by the Queen.”
I went still when she said “mate.” Part of me longed to correct her. Tell her Adam wasn’t my mate at all. Just a good friend. A fighting partner. But the snort from Giguhl’s mouth and the knowing look in his goat-slit eyes told me it’d be best not to acknowledge the mistake.
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Let’s go see this garden, I guess.”
3
I’ll give the faeries this: They know how to rock some landscaping. The Autumn Garden took my breath away, which is saying something, because I rarely notice nature. A dozen varieties of maples in brilliant yellows, crimsons, and oranges unfurled like colorful parasols against the green, blue, and gold of the conifers. Elaborate Japanese bridges spanned lily-dotted ponds. The same faery lights I’d seen in the throne room hung here from metal lanterns, which cast a golden glow on the river-rock pathways. And set on small islands in the ponds, among the splashes of jeweled koi, were elaborate pagoda-shaped birdhouses. The winged garden sprites who lived in them flitted among branches and leaves like spastic fireflies. Their high-pitched conversations sounded like birdsong as they buzzed near the edge of the pond where we sat.
Despite the idyllic setting, I was ready to storm back inside and demand entrance to the great room. My ass ached from the bench, and my cuticles were bloody and sore from my nervous chewing. And if I had to listen to one more minute of my demon’s increasingly pathetic and creepy attempts to get a piece of rebound faery ass, I was going to cut a bitch.
“You ever let a demon through your portal before?” he purred to Calyx. The tip of one claw swirled lazy circles in the mossy pond water.
“Um, I don’t think so,” she said hesitantly, looking around like she couldn’t wait to escape.
He winked at the faery. “Trust me, sweet cheeks, you’d remember having a demon in your portal.”
I rolled my eyes and waved away a garden sprite who buzzed too close to my ear.
“Bitch,” it squeaked.
Hoping to escape the awkward come-ons and think in peace, I went to pace on the bridge. My skin felt too tight and my head buzzed with possible outcomes to the meeting. I still couldn’t believe the Queen had banned me from the proceedings. Normally I’d be pissed that no one stood up for me, but in the grand scheme of things, my pride wasn’t as important as progress in finding Maisie. Still, it rankled. If it weren’t for me they wouldn’t have Tanith at all.
If it weren’t for you, Maisie wouldn’t have been kidnapped in the first place, my conscience whispered. I squinted against the memory of the message Lavinia left for me to find when she’d taken Maisie out from under my nose: a white canvas with the word “checkmate” written in blood. That round had gone to my grandmother, but I was tired of playing games. I just wanted to my sister back, and then I wanted to focus on building a new life that didn’t include prophecies or politics.
Only clear heads and unemotional logic would accomplish those goals. Sitting around mooning over how it all made me feel was a waste of time. I just wished Tanith’s supposed defection hadn’t thrown such a wrench in the plans. Our original strategy was elegant in its simplicity: Kidnap Persephone and trade her for Maisie.
But now we not only had the wrong Domina, but that one that suddenly claimed to be an ally. If it were up to me, I’d continue with the original plan. The problem was my goals and the goals of the Hekate Council and the Queen were not the same.
I was no stranger to the push-pull between leaders and the foot soldiers they used to carry out their plans. The minute you added political or diplomatic concerns to a mission, you were asking for complications. And I worried those complications might make saving my sister less important to the leadership than preventing war.
So, I had to admit that even though in the long run peace was preferable to this constant state of almost-war, my preference was to trade Tanith, save Maisie, and let the bullets fall where they may.
Of course, the other option was that Tanith was full of shit and she’d been sent by Lavinia to f**k us over. Either way, I didn’t see anything positive about Tanith’s declaration of independence from Lavinia.
A sharp pain in my hand cut my thoughts short. I looked down to realize I’d gripped the bridge’s railing so tight that a shard of wood had broken off and embedded itself in my palm. Gods, I was losing it. I hadn’t even realized I’d stopped pacing until that moment. I took a deep breath and removed the wood. The small wound would heal quickly, but I needed to do something about the tension knifing my shoulder blades.
Using my uninjured hand, I kneaded at the hot spot and willed myself to relax. Soon enough Adam and the others would come out to let me know the plan. I just prayed they made the right decision.
Now that I’d tuned back into my surroundings, Giguhl’s deep voice reached me across the water. He and the faery Calyx were in the same spot and hadn’t noticed my minor existential crisis. “Do you have a sister?” he asked Calyx.
Just then, a bright orange koi with black spots mistook Giguhl’s finger for a worm. “Ouch!” His claw jumped out of the water with a splash.
The corner of my mouth twitched. I started to tease him, but movement across the garden caught my attention.
Two large doors opened and Orpheus, Rhea, and Adam appeared on the path leading into the garden. Their grim expressions formed a knot in my stomach and made my shoulders tense up again. A Pythian Guard and another faery guard lead Tanith out behind them. Orpheus said something to the mage guard, who moved to stand in front of Tanith and the fae, presumably to give us some privacy. Over his shoulder, Tanith flashed me a smug smile that cued warning bells before the mages even reached me.
“Let’s walk.” Orpheus was all business. It had been only a few days since we saw each other, but the lack of warmth in his greeting put me on edge.
Calyx mumbled something about being needed elsewhere. Never had a female looked so relieved to escape a come-on. Crestfallen, Giguhl watched her go.
I nodded and held out a hand for him to precede me toward the nearest bridge. Once he’d passed I looked at Adam, who held his aunt’s arm like a gentleman. His expression didn’t give much away. Figuring I’d find out the bad news soon enough, I smiled at Rhea. “How are you?”
She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. “Tired,” she said honestly. “Come on, let’s get you filled in on the ….. developments.”