38. Cress
My sister’s fate had me throwing everything I could into our final day of training. I stood toe to toe with Madigan, the two of us brawling like juggernauts with the combined backing of all of our men. As evening fell, I covered myself in healing blood runes to recover from all my various hurts and spent what was left of the night before the battles ahead with my coven and friends.
We’d taken over the staff break room in the library, dragging in extra chairs from elsewhere to fit everyone. Roe was rolling a water bottle between her hands, looking pensive. Her moods were usually contagious, and considering she seemed concerned, tensions were high until one of the Furies, Grace, arrived and plunked a few wine bottles on the table toward the back of the break room.
“To take the edge off,” she said, starting to rummage in the cupboards. “Surely this place has got some cups.”
“Hey, not to spoil your fun, but most of us are underage,” Grant said.
She shrugged and started stacking plastic cups in her hands. “I won’t snitch. It’s the end either way, might as well enjoy it.”
The other Fury, Tish, glanced up from her laptop where she’d set up in a corner. “Besides, that’s about enough for one glass for each of us,” she tittered.
Phaeron stood to help Grace pour and distribute. “On the eve of big battles, I’d drink with my men and discuss what we’d do when we’d win. It helps to focus on goals, not fears. We all have lives to return to once Myuna dies and we leave Cerris City at last,” he said.
“That sounds like a good idea. Who’d like to go first?” Roe asked, accepting a cup partially filled with wine and downing a careful sip. She winced at its taste.
Bianca was the one to break the silence first. “First things first, I am going to fight to the bitter end. I’m not running away through the ocean gate.”
“You’re not?” I asked, surprised.
“No way.” She toasted me with her cup. “I haven’t run from a fight yet and tomorrow won’t be the exception.”
“There was that one time before Samhain—” Ben began to say.
“That was different,” she interrupted. “I didn’t actually want to fight you.”
“Uh huh.” He turned down a cup of wine. “You can have mine, Big P. You seem bougie enough to like wine.” When Phaeron’s brow furrowed, Ben added, “He doesn’t understand slang, you guys. His translation spell is a bit literal.”
The dimensional’s eyes narrowed. “It translates intention well enough.”
“Mating circle life, yuck,” Bianca said lightly.
“Fuck off,” he answered her in the same tone.
“I’m going to, actually.” She glanced away, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment. “I guess this is your official notice that I accepted a position with the Furies as their third member. I’m going to hunt unnaturals professionally with Grace and Tish.” The mountain lion shifter nodded stoically, while Tish beamed.
Ben blinked in surprise. “No shit?”
“None. I can’t stand the idea of going back to school, and that’s where most of you guys are going.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “So I’m going to go do what I’m good at, killing monsters.”
I nodded, realizing she’d been spending a lot of time with those two women. It only made sense that she’d join them. “Good luck,” I said.
“Thanks. And good luck replacing me, of course. Now that Wren’s made our coven famous, there’ll be tons of witches that will want to take my place,” she said with a flip of her hand.
“Hey, she mentioned you by name, Wren. What’s next for you?” I asked.
The blonde sighed into her cup. “Well, apply for college loans, first off.” She laughed alone, a nervous chuckle. “I’m going to reinvent myself, maybe go off on my own like it’s the old times to seek out a new experience to name myself after. I’ll have to continue streaming something too, with all the followers I’ve built up.”
“You don’t have to be alone,” Roe said.
Tish glanced down at her computer, clicking around. “And I’ll help you with your stream. I’m having a blast being a mod. Your fan group is popping off right now!”
My brows rose. “You have a fan group?”
“Yeah, but they’re going to get bored of me once Myuna’s dead and such.”
“Nonsense!” Tish chirped, to an echo of agreement around the room.
Wren loosened her shoulders from a rather un-Wren-like hunch. “You’re right. It’ll be fine…great, even. What about you…Roe?”
Now it was the redhead’s turn to look nervous. “Well, I hate keeping secrets,” she blurted out. “I made a deal with a fae a few months ago and I, uh, I’m gonna have to take off for a while to back up my end of things.”
áine’s deerlike ears pinned back. “I immediately do not like this. Who was the fae? What was the deal?” she demanded.
It looked like Roe was going to hold her breath until she exploded. Her gaze tracked across the crowded room to Grant, who opened and closed his mouth a few times before scuffing his foot on the floor. “If I show you my true form, áine, do you promise not to get too mad?” he asked.
She whipped her head around, nostrils flared. No one smelled a fae deal like one of the fair folk. “I agree,” she stated slowly and watched as Grant melted away, replaced by his changeling form. Her mouth fell open and she glanced around the room…but it seemed the only ones surprised were her and the Furies, including Bianca.
áine hopped to her hooves, pointing at him. “Changeling!” she barked. “And to think I trusted you!”
“I can explain—”
She spoke over him, panning the room in disbelief. “Did you all know about this? Every time he disappeared…”
“He was spying for us. áine, please. I’m sorry you’re learning like this.” Roe got up and hugged the faun, who stood there trembling and not returning the affection.
“You made a deal with him?” she asked in a low voice. “An Autumn Courtchangeling, one of the enemy. Roe, how could you?”
“I can explain,” she said, echoing Grant.
áine pulled away, crossing her arms and taking her seat at an angle. “By all means,” she said with gritted teeth.
“Well, we needed his help around Samhain, when Garroway and the Hungering Darkness went to ground,” Roe began slowly, her voice shaking as she spoke to the faun’s turned back. “He revealed himself first to a small group, because he was tired of pretending to be boring as toast Grant Norwood.”
“To be fair, my sponsor also wanted more information than I was gathering. He wanted me to be your friend,” Grant put in.
“Yeah. So the deal was of friendship,” Roe said, nodding. “He would spy for us and do whatever we needed for free, and in exchange I would visit the Autumn Court with him to compete with other fae nobility for the crown prince’s hand.”
áine’s cold shoulder thawed almost immediately. “What?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Roe in disbelief.
Roe smiled sheepishly. “He said I didn’t have to take it too seriously.”
The faun turned a glare on Grant. “Well, changeling, how about you explain why you’d ask for something like that of my best friend.”
I sensed that Ben wanted some popcorn. Most of us watched this play out, heads turning back and forth between the three of them. I had to admit, I was curious about the competition too. But the Autumn Court…helmed by a bloodthirsty queen who’d once sacrificed countless lives to the old mother tree that’d anchored the pocket dimension where Northern Supernatural University and the rest of New Salem resided. That was too dangerous a place for Roe to go alone.
“All right,” Grant said, flicking his green and orange braid over his shoulder. “Long answer or short?”
Our friends shouted their answers, punctuated by áine’s eye roll and drawl of, “Tell me everything.”
“Everything, cool. So, I’m Ambrose.” He put a hand on his chest. “That’s part of my true name, I mean. Before Roe and I shook on our deal, I told her the whole thing and so she can order me to dance myself to death if she wants. I’m the crown prince’s body double and have spent most of my life learning how to be him.”
“He’s the mysterious sponsor,” Roe said.
Ambrose sighed, his dragonfly wings shifting and layering over one another tightly on his back. “Prince Soryn asked me to seek out potential brides in the ruins of the Fall Court. Little did I expect to find it a bustling metropolis and for my cover story to tie me to the most important coven of witches in the whole of Moongrove Academy. I’ve been winging it for a while, pun not intended.”
Phaeron felt badly for him, I sensed. “Your spying has been invaluable to us,” he said.
“Well, thank you. I’ve been keeping Soryn alive for a few years, since I came of age and earned permission to impersonate his lordship. Believe it or not, I can’t take the shape of folks that are above a certain power level threshold. I’ve never been Geo or Phaeron.” He pointed at the two men with his thumb. “And trust me, I’ve tried.”
“Don’t try anymore,” Geo grumbled.
“It’s all good, I need your permission and blood to ever be able to,” Ambrose said. “Anyway, there’s a somewhat likely chance that Soryn is still alive without me. He doesn’t actually want to get married, but he does want to end his mother’s curse. Most of you are familiar with the old Fall Court’s bloody past, I presume?”
áine scowled. “I was the one who told most of them.”
“Well, she made a deal with one of the Unspoken Ones long ago to have the power to augment her first mother tree with the blood of sacrifices. A side effect of that deal was true immortality. But she’s kind of…rotting.” Ambrose flinched as he said it. “Like, she has enough enemies that she’s been assassinated a few times, but her body just gets back up and continues on. And as more time passes and she doesn’t fulfill her end of the bargain, the more Autumn Court denizens get afflicted this way too.”
“Undeath, then,” Phaeron said, tilting his head. “Unspoken One, as in a death fae?”
“Yup. Thus the undeath. He’s getting impatient. Soryn is gathering allies for what we’re calling Turning Leaf, a movement to remove both the Autumn Queen and the Unspoken One so our friends and family members can rest in peace and we can finally make amends to courts we’ve wronged.” Ambrose nodded toward áine, who seemed to finally be listening and accepting what he was saying. “In the meantime, Roe is considered royal fae by technicality, so I’m going to look like I’m doing my job by bringing her home to star in the next bridal competition the Autumn Queen puts on for Soryn. And there’s your long answer, áine.”
“Hmph. I’m coming with you,” she said to Roe.
“Wait—” she began to protest.
“I’ll hide my Spring-ness, promise. If you’re going to be in a bridal competition, you’re going to need a fae you trust,” the faun huffed.
“Sounds like a party. Can I come too?” Ben asked. Both of them said a quick ‘no’ at him. “Okay, fine. But how is Roe fae anything? She’s human. Right?” He eyed her as if waiting for her to drop a glamor too.
“The Crystal Prince is one of my fathers. Technically, that puts me in line for the Crystal Court throne,” Roe answered. “But if the bridal competition is held in typical fae style, Prince Soryn shouldn’t even look twice at me. I’ll be in and out before you know it.”
Ambrose glanced away from her. From his expression, he thought otherwise. Giving his head a shake, he schooled his face and said, “And as for me, I’m hopping through the ocean gate wearing Willow’s face tomorrow. Girl, if someone tries to kill me, you owe me twice over.”
“Sorry. It might happen, given the history.” Willow ducked her head shyly under the room’s concentrated attention. “I, uh, I wanted to stay and fight. My control has gotten better.”
I raised a brow and glanced around. “Who here is leaving through the ocean gate tomorrow?” I asked. Only Ambrose raised his hand, though he’d shifted to look exactly like Willow. Her reedy form swam in the clothes he’d been wearing.
“Really?” I asked in surprise.
“Furies finish what they start,” Grace said.
Roe held up a fist. “You know I’m not going anywhere. I got your back.”
Wren held up her phone in echo to the redhead. “Someone’s got to record you defeating a goddess. We just won’t stream any fight with torchbearers if we can help it.”
“You’re all the best. I thought…well, I thought you’d want to be safe,” I said. “But I guess none of us will be. Not even Ambrose. Would you go back to being yourself, please?”
He transformed back to his changeling form and made a dramatic bow. “It’s still Willow’s turn to talk,” he said.
“Well, what I do next depends on how much danger Ambrose finds. I might go find my place in my alleged father’s city or hide from the mer if it turns out a lot of them want to kill me,” she said, scratching the back of her head with an uncertain tilt to her lips.
“Play it by ear,” Roe suggested.
“Yeah. I guess that covers everyone but Cress and her circle. What’s next?” she asked me.
“Um…” For all my fantasizing about the white picket fence life with my three men, I couldn’t imagine returning to my quiet dorm room with the empty bed where Lanie used to sleep. My life had grown too large and busy to fit back into that box, even though I knew I needed classes and a degree to eventually get an ideal job. “I’m going to debate whether or not to tell NSU that I’m a hybrid witch, so I can learn more celestial magic. And hopefully move out into an apartment big enough for my circle.”
“Staff quarters,” Ben suggested. “You and Geo can move in with Big P and me.”
Phaeron huffed a skeptical breath. “Implying I’m still employed at Moongrove Library. I intend to resign anyway, as I’d rather cut off part of my tail than work for Dr. Aurina.”
“While he searches for a job, I intend to be gainfully employed with the SPDI. I’ve been texting my old friend, Marl.” Geo held up his own phone. “He’s a fellow gargoyle who’s served for decades. They’re always looking for durable talent.”
Amusingly, I felt a dissonance between Phaeron and Ben’s reactions. The former nodded in approval, while the latter balked at the idea of Geo becoming a member of the supernatural police. But it suited him, I thought. Criminals would rue the day they crossed Officer Geo.
“Officer Darkmore,” Phaeron whispered behind his hand, in response to my thoughts.
Right, they had my name now. I kept forgetting.
“Well, I’m going to be a student,” Ben said. “Just throwing that out there. I’ll major in something useful and even go to class.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I said, a sentiment most of the coven echoed.
I looked down at my cup of wine, left untouched where I’d rested it on my thigh. Most everyone had finished their taste of alcohol by now. Taking a sip, I recognized that it was a milder wine, both bitter and sweet notes mingling on my tongue. Kind of like this moment, a bubble of peace right before the uncertainty of tomorrow. Sweet, but bitter with the knowledge that there was a chance we’d lose someone who’d chosen to stay with us until the very end.