Chapter 17
Always Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide
Dy struck a bargain that Cha didn’t pay much attention to—it hardly mattered as they weren’t after coin this time and as long as they made good with Nerd Girl and got Azul out, the rest was gravy—and they followed the fae’s perfectly rounded, deliciously twitching naked ass as she walked ahead of them.
“You have to admit it’s a really nice ass,” Cha commented.
“It would be a waste to glamour up a less than perfect one,” Dy replied blandly.
“Yeah, yeah…” Cha sighed in response to everything Dy wasn’t saying. “I fucked up royally. Whatever gene I inherited from my fae-loving ancestors, it’s clearly messing with my judgement. I can’t seem to resist a pretty fae anymore and when did that happen? I’m a liability.”
“If there is such a gene, I’d have inherited it too,” Dy pointed out. “Every human with magic had to get it from someone in their bloodline conceiving a child with the fae.”
“I know that,” Cha bit out.
“Just saying.”
“Probably your ancestor was forced,” Cha said. “Nobly resisting to the end.”
Dy slid her a look. “You think claiming my ancestor was raped is better?”
“No, no. No. That’s not what I meant.” Cha rubbed the top of her head. “Forgive me. I’m wonky and out of sorts.”
“Forgiven.” Dy brushed Cha’s arm with the back of her hand, offering a sympathetic smile. “We’ll find a healer for your bruised noggin. How do you feel?”
Nauseated. Dizzy. Aching from toes to cracked skull. “Like crap,” she allowed. “And like a fucking idiot.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much. There’s a reason human history is full of stories of mortals being seduced by the fae, even before the veils were shattered. You’re no better nor worse than the rest of our race.”
“I seem to be more susceptible than most,” Cha muttered.
“You are…” Dy began, clearly choosing her words, “a very sexual person. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“A weakness they can exploit.”
“A quality of yours that has both positive and negative facets,” Dy corrected.
Cha barked out a laugh and eyed the looming castle. “How are you here and why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’m always nice to you,” Dy countered and, before Cha could retort, continued. “Sitting at the bottom wasn’t really an option. The pull of the high yellow was too strong. Big Betty would have eventually exhausted herself trying to tread water.”
“How did you make it up that slingshot of a ley spiral though?”
Dy smiled smugly. “I am a sorceress, dinglenut. I slowed the ley enough for us to ascend at a safer speed.”
Right. Duh. “Where’s Big Betty now?”
“I left her snoozing in the shade back by the wall. She’s keeping an eye on Warg for me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring him.”
“I didn’t think our hosts would appreciate a magical sink in their midst,” she replied pointedly.
Oh, yeah. There was that.
Cha had only a vague idea of how Warg functioned for Dy, mostly from their academy days when the sorceress didn’t have a lodestone and got herself into various kinds of trouble.
Mostly of the knocking-herself-unconscious-via-magical-backlash variety.
Apparently unconscious was the best case scenario with death at the other end of the spectrum, and various stages of “almost dead” in between.
The first time Dy had lost control, during an after-hours, unauthorized lab experiment, she’d ended up in the infirmary for a week.
And with an additional two-week suspension from classes.
The academy had their own lodestones in place to sink wayward student magic, but it had been one of those “no lifeguard on duty” situations and Dy’s sneaking into the pool had resulted in her nearly drowning.
She’d been assiduous in always using a lodestone after that—lesson learned—except for those occasions Warg ran way.
He tended to be fatally distracted by gremlins, especially the tree-climbing variety, an addiction that had nearly cost them a number of jobs.
Fortunately, Big Betty could handle Warg’s impulsive mischief, so long as she was in animal form.
Still, Cha worried about Dy not having her lodestone.
“What does that mean for you, though?” Cha asked in a lowered tone.
Dy cast a wary eye at Sunshine’s naked ass, saucily twitching as the fae led the way. “The magic backlash is mostly a problem for me these days when I’m channeling the ley lines. Anything less than that is manageable. I’ll have to be careful is all. Keep the power turned down.”
That explained why Dy hadn’t blown Sunshine out of the water immediately. “Hopefully you won’t need to magically combat anyone else.”
Dy snorted. “I think you’re going to need more than hope for that wish to come true, Tinkerbell.”
They both studied the shimmering castle looming above—and the gates leading into the inner courtyard. Big, steely looking gates that would no doubt close behind them.
“Sticking with the original plan?” Cha asked.
“It’s as bad a plan as any,” Dy answered cheerfully, extending a loose fist.
Cha bumped it with her own and they, Katu walking between them, stepped into the golden shadows of Castle Citrine.
*
At least this place seemed a bit more occupied.
Fae of all varieties—many of the sort Cha had never seen before and suspected no human ever had—drifted, glided, flew, poofed, and slithered through the hallways.
Sunshine imperiously ignored them all, which meant they were all either of lower or servant class, or both.
It was unclear what position Sunshine herself occupied in the hierarchy.
She could be anything from a kind of guard dog or to an enterprising lackey who’d taken it upon herself to seduce and interrogate the intruding human to someone as in charge as she wanted to seem.
They were clearly traveling through the secondary, servants’ halls anyway, which was the other reason they weren’t seeing any fae nobility.
That wasn’t entirely surprising. They’d entered under the guise of striking a trade deal, which meant they’d be dealing with the tradespeople associated with the palace: buyers, lower-level dealmakers, etc.
Actual royalty didn’t concern themselves with such plebian activities.
The problem with this segregation, however, in regards to their true objective, was that Azul—an actual Prince of Amethyst—wouldn’t be slumming it among the lower classes.
Cha was far from an expert on fae politics, but she was pretty certain that any fae royal, even a prisoner or captive or whatever his rescue-needing status was, would still be insulated to the upper realms of castle society.
Probably making one of them consort with the lower classes would be tantamount to torture.
Soon they came to a back room, piled high with stacks of documents, the walls lined with crates stamped with characters unlike anything Cha had seen before.
Knee-high and featureless fae looking as if they’d been carved out of soft butter bustled in and out of doors at the back of the room, carrying boxes to and fro from what might be a cargo bay.
A bespectacled creature like a cross between a gnome and a cricket sat behind an enormous desk.
It peered at them over the bulbous lenses, then flicked a long, fluffy-tipped tail impatiently.
“Who are they?” it asked of Sunshine.
“Humans,” she answered.
“And their carriage animal. I can determine that much for myself. What is the meaning of this?”
“Something about a trade deal.” She sounded sulky now. “That’s your job, not mine,” she added before flouncing off.
“What even is your job?” the gnome clerk called after her, shaking its head in irritation. It transferred the scowl to Dy and Cha. “We don’t trade directly with humans. Contact our proxy at Obsidian Depot. Goodbye.” It bent its head to whatever it had been doing when they walked in.
Dy and Cha exchanged glances. Cha stepped forward. Busted noggin or not, this was her ball to field. “The Obsidian and Moonstone fae wanted this for themselves,” she offered, sliding her eyes around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “They refused to contact your representative.”
The gnome-clerk eyed her. “I find that unlikely, human. Why would they risk the wrath of Citrine? Your kind is well known for telling untruths. I suspect you of doing so to manipulate me.”
Cha had to master the immediate sense of offended outrage.
After all, she was lying in order to manipulate him.
Still, it seemed insulting for him to say so outright.
Clearly the situation called for more and better lies.
“Would we come all this way, risk our lives and those of our carriage animals for any other reason? We offer a valuable commodity that we have reason to think Citrine will be vitally interested in. So much so that Obsidian and Moonstone don’t want you to have it. ”
She at least had Gnome-clerk’s interest now. “What do you care for Citrine’s interests?” it asked suspiciously. “Just sell to whoever will pay your price and leave fae politics alone.”
Cha allowed a broad, flesh-eating grin to stretch her lips. “That’s exactly what we’re doing: seeking the who that will pay our price. We have reason to think that’s Citrine nobility.”
It thought a moment. “What is the product then?”
Not above creating a little suspense, Cha waited an extra beat. “Agnicurna.”
Gnome-clerk stared at her steadily, expression deadpan even for the typically stonefaced fae. “What’s that?”
She guffawed and Dy snorted softly, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, my friend,” Cha drawled. “You and I know perfectly well that you know what it is. A big deal in your fae wars. A valuable weapon.”
Gnome-clerk’s stillness became dangerous. “What wars? I know nothing of such things. I am but a purchasing clerk.”