Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Every time Nick went into the Far Realm, a small pit of fear opened in his stomach, a small, hesitant wonder: What if the stories are true and they steal me away for a thousand years?
His mother had, through hesitant, jerky storytelling, explained the traumatic history of their family and the fae.
Nick was constantly reminded of the horror of losing Bastian during their battle with the Sun god and how he would have felt if Bastian hadn’t been recoverable, if he’d been simply gone.
But Parker was there, and the tension in his shoulders showed that he was feeling the same, that he had the same level of anxiety as Nick entering the Far Realm.
“Queen Celandine, we thank you for your welcome,” Parker said formally. “My husband and I are grateful for the chance to ask you some questions.”
The queen tittered. Her skin was a pale pink and her eyes a darker shade of the same. Before Parker, Nick had bought into the Hollywood-produced version of the fae: all gorgeous, thin, young ingenues with glittery skin who wore variations of bikinis made out of different plants.
Now, he knew that the fae were beautiful and terrible and deeply, deeply strange.
Queen Celandine wore a pale, pastel green that highlighted the shimmery rose color of her skin.
Unlike the actors on the fae-focused CW TV show Beautiful and Deadly, Celandine did have curves.
Her hips flared out, accented by the swooping width of her skirt.
Her small, delicate face hid a ruthlessness that would just as happily slit Parker’s throat as have him for tea.
Nick recognized it from long experience at his father’s side. His father would go to Washington and smile, smile, smile, jovial and friendly. Back at their house later, Nick once said, “That went well.”
His father had eyed him, then led him to his office, pouring himself a drink of amber liquid. He’d poured a small amount for Nick, passing it over with an admonishment not to tell his mother.
“Those men, Senators Thurman and Lee, they only want what I can give them. Which right now is the legitimacy of our family name.” Nick’s father took a sip of the alcohol, swirling it once, considering the color.
“Our name is power, Nicholas. It means that blue voters will ignore the fact that both of their families owned slaves, that they’re as purple as someone can get in a blue-leaning state.
As soon as I become useless to them, they’ll drop me. ”
“What are you going to do?” Nick had asked.
“I’m going to see if they can be useful to me before I make any decisions,” Nick’s father said. “That’s our job. If I tarnish our family name, then the single most valuable asset our family has is gone. All of these vultures are just waiting for that.”
Nick had heard the implicit warning in his father’s words. Their family was their name. Their reputation was worth more than every penny they had in the bank.
When he looked at Parker, he saw something similar. Parker’s position as Windrose was contingent on him acting in ways that didn’t break any of his promises. He had to perform a part, be the person they expected, because if he slipped, then he would lose every ounce of power he had.
“Come, come,” Celandine urged, drawing them deeper into the room.
Everything was floral, and long vines of sticky, sweet-smelling, tropical flowers lined the walls.
It sent a shiver up Nick’s spine because it felt like they were walking into a Venus fly trap, everything beautiful and enticing so they wouldn’t notice they were being digested.
Nick spun his alchemy pen in his fingers, twisting it back and forth until Parker sent him a sharp look. Unobtrusively, Nick slipped the pen back into his jacket as they followed the petite queen further into her castle.
She gestured with one hand to what looked like an enormous mushroom, the flat top covered with a tea service. Huffing, she glanced at a fae standing in the corner. The courtier jumped to attention, dropping something on the ground and closing her eyes to concentrate.
As though watching a time-lapse photo sequence, three toadstools sprang up, providing seating. Nick forced himself to relax. This was just magic, a different kind of magic, just magic. It was not at all strange and foreign, even after years as Parker’s partner.
He watched Parker carefully to see what he’d do first. Parker waited on the queen, and when she started to sit, he rushed to take a seat, Nick half a step behind him.
The queen poured three cups of tea, passing Nick and Parker theirs. Parker’s hands were relaxed on his staff, but he still held it, not touching the teacup.
Celandine took a long sip from her own cup, eyeing Parker over the rim. The dishware looked delicate, like porcelain, shaped so thin that it was nearly translucent. She put her cup down with a soft click.
“Of course, everything given freely without debt or obligation.” Her smile was just close enough to a smirk that Nick knew the pause, the wait to see what they’d do, was purposeful.
How long had Parker been Windrose, and they were still testing him, still waiting to see if they could catch him in one of their carefully constructed traps.
Nick could still feel the cool glass in his hand, see his father’s expression when he acknowledged that no matter how nice some powerful white men were to him, he was nothing more than a tool to them.
Leaning forward, Parker took the cup, sipping the tea before setting it down. “Delicious.”
Nick didn’t risk drinking any of it. It might be free and clear from obligations and fae magic, but he worried about bacteria and viruses, invisible foes that he’d bring back to the human realm and give to someone else. He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow until Parker’s went up.
“Right. Uh, Queen Celandine, we need to speak with one of your subjects.” Parker leaned forward. “We appreciate you making them available for us.”
“I have many subjects.” Celandine picked her cup back up and eyed them both. “Which one?”
“One of your people is running a business in the human realm,” Parker said. “An escape room. We need to speak with them.”
“A what?” Celandine batted her eyes. “I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with the business you’re talking about.”
“If you aren’t aware of it, then one of your subjects is violating the treaties that keep the Far Realm from war without your knowledge,” Parker said sharply.
“If that’s the case, then I think they—and any rewards or obligations they’ve earned with their business—are under my purview.
I could tear your court apart searching for the culprit. ”
“That is not your job,” Celandine said sharply.
“No, but I would be happy to be of service since I’m sure the Spring Court is not purposefully violating their agreement to stay out of the human realm when it is not their season.
” Parker took a long drink of the tea, then reached for a mini sandwich.
“I’m absolutely positive that someone who’s been as accommodating and responsible as you wouldn’t risk their entire rule and the peace of the realm over an escape room.
That would be madness. That would definitely be something I’d have to investigate.
After all, if one of the monarchs was acting irrationally, it might affect their ability to make decisions.
It might affect any treaties or alliances they’ve formed. ”
Celandine’s face no longer looked human. Her small mouth and large eyes gave her the appearance of a wasp, her narrow chin and pale pink skin strange and foreign. She was a poisonous jungle insect that Parker was just poking. Parker took a large bite of the mini sandwich, finishing it quickly.
“Absolutely delicious. Compliments to the chef. I guess if I’m investigating your court, I’ll get more of these. What are they called?”
“On second thought, there are a few of my court who run ‘businesses’ in the human realm. As they are never in the realm when my court is not ascendant, we have had no problems so far. I will inquire which of them is the owner of this ‘escape room.’” She pronounced it as though the two words had never before been next to each other in her vocabulary, and Nick was struck by the absurdity of it.
A queen of the Far Realm was talking about escape rooms.
When he looked at Parker, his husband’s expression was just as fixed as if the situation was life and death, and Nick realized that it was. Right. This was just standard fae politicking with a bit of hipster fad business thrown in.
Celandine stood, her movements flowing fluidly, every gesture graceful, even when she was clearly annoyed. She seemed to float over the floor as she stalked from the room.
No door slammed, but without the queen, the room seemed colder, a quality of warm light gone, lengthening the shadows, making the gorgeous flowers on the wall seem deadly rather than beautiful. They were trapped in a cage that could eat them alive.
Nick stared at Parker, considering. There was still that burn of alcohol on his tongue, as though he was still in his father’s office. Parker sometimes gave him the same impression, that he was making sacrifices and decisions based on a longer-term goal, one Nick couldn’t always see as clearly.
But his father would have finessed, politicked, had Nick’s mother send over a nice bottle of wine. He would have untangled that Gordian knot so carefully that no one would have remembered when it had been knotted at all.
It was the opposite of Parker’s approach. Parker always drew his sword and cut through the tangled mess, not because of frustration but because that was his strength. He could see the truth when everyone else saw an insurmountable task.
Parker took another sandwich. “These really are good; I wasn’t just winding her up. You want to try one?”
“Is this supposed to be our last meal?” Nick asked. “The conversation seemed headed that way.”
“No, no. Celandine and Balsam are still the Beyoncé and Jay-Z of the courts. She’s just flexing a little muscle.” Parker licked a sauce off his thumb, slouching back in his chair, balancing his staff between his legs.
“It seemed tense,” Nick said carefully. He had no idea whether someone was listening, and it was too ingrained in him to assume his every word was going to be recorded or repeated.
“Nah, she’s just trying to see if her new power gets her a get-out-of-jail-free card. She won’t rock the boat that much. Not over something like this.” Parker frowned, his right hand brushing over the head of his staff. “Unless this is more than an escape room.”
“I can’t see something like this being a Park Place.” Nick considered. “Unless you think they created the parasite on purpose? What would the fae want with millions of dollars?”
“I don’t know. That’s what’s bugging me.
” Parker considered the room, but whatever he saw made him smile, a twitch of his lips as he looked up at the vines and flowers.
“My favorite was always the greens. Pennsylvania Avenue. Pacific Avenue. And the railroads. Can’t go wrong with the railroads.
You were definitely a guy who liked to control a whole side of the board. ”
“Yellow and red,” Nick said. “Cheaper to build on. It’s just good strategy. No one can avoid that many squares in a row.”
The light changed, brightening, warming, until the room was a pleasant afternoon tea again. Queen Celandine swept in, her outfit an entirely different color, now with a high neck and a cloak made of spiderwebs trailing behind her, the spiders spinning more silk as she gestured to the fae with her.
The fae wore dark colors at odds with the pastels of the Spring Court. She looked disheveled, her long hair braided but small birds nesting where strands met.
“Windrose, this is Clover.” With the introduction done, Celandine perched on her seat, eyes fixed on Parker.
He didn’t seem to notice, turning to the fae left standing. “We have some questions about your business.”
“The escape room, yes.” Clover glanced at Celandine and then back at Parker. “Yes. What questions?”
“For starters,” Parker said. “How did you develop a sentient parasite that looks like alchemy?”