Chapter 39
AS THE HEAVY SWATH OF purple twilight fell over the gold eye of the sun, Magda was running through repetitive kicks and punches, crushing the weeds that had rooted in the sand of the old training ground.
The bushes rustled. She spun, tensing. When Damion’s weary frame pushed through the verge, her shoulders sagged. Only then did she realize that she’d been both hoping and fearing that Kaelan would find her.
“Good to see you haven’t forgotten everything,” he said, setting a basket down on the ground.
“What’s that?” she asked, snatching it up. Inside, she found fresh bread and a huge chunk of crumbly blue-veined cheese.
“Help yourself,” he said, dropping onto the stool next to the gleaming armor. “This looks better.”
“How was the trip?” she asked through a mouthful of bread.
“Aggravating,” he said. “Uncle Rahul has become a courtier. I’m not even sure he’d fit into his armor anymore. But—”
“Oh, no, no, no,” a small voice said. “This won’t do.”
Magda stopped chewing. She turned to find a tiny woman in a prim gray suit. The brownie’s dark eyes were overly large and her little lips pinched in an critical pucker.
“Are you the Rae?” the brownie asked, looking her up and down. “No, no, no. What has happened to your hair? Is that all you have to wear? Is that your armor?”
Magda resisted the urge to boot the stiff-shouldered creature into the bushes.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Meer,” the brownie stated brusquely, placing her long, delicate fingers on her hips.
“Master has sent me to serve you until you are able to establish a household of your own. I knew you’d been exiled from civilization, but I had no idea that I’d find this—” She shook her head.
Her wild curls were drawn back severely from her temples, erupting again at her crown and tumbling down her back.
They bounced with her every movement, as if seconding each disapproving shake of her head.
She snapped her fingers and three smaller brownies appeared, two males and a female, all in trim gray suits with messes of brown hair framing their tiny faces.
“Yes, Miss Meer?” they said in unison.
“The house?”
All three spoke at once.
“It’s a disaster—”
“Dust up to my eyeballs—”
“Linens in tatters—”
Meer clapped her hands twice and they fell silent.
“The house is not as important as its occupants,” she told them. “We accompany the Rae to the Spire shortly. We must prepare the family for court.”
She pointed at the first young man. “Clothing.”
He nodded and disappeared.
To the next she said, “Kitchen.”
He, too, vanished.
She turned to the young woman. “Take the lady and her son in hand. I will see to the house and the Rae.”
“Yes, Miss Meer.” Then the young woman was gone.
Meer turned back to Magda, who had been cleaning out the food from the basket while the brownie had issued instructions to her staff.
“Obviously, you’ve been malnourished during your extended respite in the human wastes.
” In a blink she was gone and then back again with another basket, twice as tall as she was.
“I will prepare the west bedroom above the library for you, and a bath. Eat and then come up at once. A Rae must sleep ten hours each night or her acuities suffer irreparably. I suppose that explains the hair.”
Before Magda managed a retort, Meer vanished.
Damion smirked. “And there’s that.”
Magda crouched before the second basket. “Meer’s right—”
“About your hair?”
She threw a roll at him. He caught it before it smacked him in the head.
Plucking another from the basket, she tore into it. “We’re woefully unprepared for court.”
Her mind flitted from one thought to the next.
The politics of court life were the least of her worries.
She was no match for Lavana. Perhaps if she’d had the next year to train without interruption or fleeing for her life .
. . but in a duel, Lavana would have all the advantage.
She’d had the last seven years to prepare, and Magda had no doubt that’s exactly what she’d been doing.
And then Magda had to worry about Flor’s campaign and that Kaelan would be found out, either as Cae’s impostor or, worse, as who he really was—an Elf Prince.
Thinking about Kaelan made the back of her neck itchy. Every muscle squirmed as though her skin had grown too tight.
“Where’s Kaelan?” Damion asked, as if he had read her thoughts.
“You didn’t see him?”
“No.”
“He’s Cae now,” she said.
“And?”
“And he’ll pass,” she said. “At least visually, I think. What about Honey? Do we really think she’s talking to the dead?”
“She put on another convincing show with Uncle Rahul,” Damion said. “His long deceased mother told him that he needed to help us and chided him about getting too fat and out-of-shape. You think Honey is lying?”
Magda sat back on her heels, already having consumed half the contents of Meer’s basket.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met anyone who could speak to the dead. My nurse used to tell me stories about necromancers . . .”
“They didn’t talk to the souls of the dead. They raised corpses and used them as soldiers during the Godwars,” Damion said. “Besides, there’s no such thing anymore. And that’s not what the nymph is doing.”
“In the human world there are people who claim to speak to the dead,” she said through a mouthful of cheese, “but I never believed any of them. Only the spirits of the tormented or cursed remain in this world.”
“Why are you so reluctant to believe her?”
“You think she can reach across the Bridge and communicate with those in the Godlands?” Magda asked. “Does that mean she could speak to the gods as well?”
Damion was grim.
“You see?” she said. “So much has already happened to her . . . if people start to think that she can communicate not only with the dead, but with the gods . . .”
“Are you afraid what the gods might say?” he asked.
“No. I’m afraid that Honey will be misused, kidnapped, even killed by the power-hungry imp-holes who populate the Lands.
A power like that . . . whatever has happened to her, Honey is innocent in all of this.
I know she wanted to come with us, but I can’t help but feel responsible for all she’s suffered. ”
“She doesn’t seem to be suffering that much,” he said. “I think she’s quite happy, in her way. I think you feel guilty about Kaelan.”
“What do you mean?”
Damion snorted, shaking his head. “Still eating?”
She frowned behind the plum she’d been devouring. “So?”
He looked up at the stars filling the violet sky. “Well, the starlight is strong tonight, but it’s been strong on other nights since we’ve been together and I haven’t noticed your skin . . . glowing quite the way it is now.”
She stopped chewing and looked down at her arms. A faint luminescence like moonlight emanated from her skin. “Oh shit.”
“Starting to Shine,” he confirmed.
Shooting up to her feet, she tossed the plum’s pit away. “Do you know where Kaelan is?” she asked.
“No.”
She pointed to the coil of gorgon rope resting next to the armor form. “Take that, find him, and tie him up.”
“Shouldn’t I tie you up too?” he asked, not moving.
She stretched her neck. “I’m going up to my room. I’ll instruct Meer to keep me there until the Shine has passed. I should be fine, so long as I don’t see him. But I’ll have Meer secure the door magically, just in case.”
“Or maybe you could just let it happen,” Damion said. “Save us all a lot of trouble.”
She picked up the empty basket and whipped it at him. The wood crunched against his up-thrown arms.
“Things are already complicated enough,” she said. “He loves Honey.”
He frowned at her. “Are you sure about that? Besides, I don’t think this has anything to do with his feelings for the nymph.”
“Oh, please—”
“I don’t like what he is,” Damion said, standing, “but I like his brother even less.”
She glowered. “This is not about Endreas. Kaelan has no experience with Raes. He doesn’t know what it’s like when one Shines. It’s not fair to him. He wouldn’t thank us for allowing it to happen once he came back to his senses.”
Bending, Damion grabbed the coil of rope. “Don’t be so sure about that, coz.”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but—”
“I’m thinking you’re about to stand before the Crown and vie for Radiant with an unclaimed Prince at your side.
Flor and Rahul can kiss ass as much as they want, but we all know most of the family will never support you.
You were already defeated and you’ve been exiled.
You have to do everything you can to give yourself the best chance possible—”
“You want me to claim Kaelan while I’m Shining?”
“He’ll agree, won’t he?”
“Yes. He will, but not because he wants to. When the Shine is gone, he’d be furious and he’d have every right to be. I promised him I wouldn’t claim him.”
“Weeks ago!”
“So?”
“So ask him again,” Damion said.
“He’s not going to be thinking about anything except for getting me into bed. He’ll agree to anything right now.”
“You might not Shine again for months! This is your only chance—”
“To break my promise and claim someone against his will?”
“Hardly,” he said. “It’s been clear since he died that whatever delusions he had about the nymph are long gone.”
“You don’t understand. What happened that day was—”
“I understand that he’s gone out of his way to be near you every chance he gets. That he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. You can’t tell me you don’t—”
“He’s a Prince—”
“And you’re a Rae and that’s how it’s meant to be. Stop fighting it and let it happen! It probably would’ve happened already if you weren’t holding out for the other—”
Her hands curled. “I am not holding out—”
“Then why have you blinded yourself to Kaelan? He wants you. The only reason he hasn’t taken you is because you’re keeping him away. You blame the nymph, the promise, but it’s none of those things. It’s you. The only reason I can see that you’re resisting is because of that—”