Chapter 22 Home & Hope #2
I gave a weak laugh, then sucked in my breath and fought back the nerves setting fire to my body.
The grassy floor beneath the Bower’s dome was far emptier now.
Except for a few scattered golden leaves, there were only a dozen guards posted along the walls, and several more bunches of fay, talking quietly amongst themselves.
These were clearly not stragglers from the revelry, but ministers or advisors of some sort.
They were a bit more subtle, but I could still feel their eyes burning into me from across the room.
Inside the stone circle, Oberon sat on his throne, apparently holding court.
A small group of tree-like creatures with clumps of red mushrooms growing from their shoulders stood before him, and he listened intently as they spoke.
His owl-feathered advisor, Simeon, noticed us and approached quickly, but stopped to bow.
“Lady Marina, it is my deepest honor. My name is Simeon, and I am Lord Oberon’s chief consul.
He and the others are eager to speak with you.
Please, come.” He waved and I followed automatically, with Devil keeping himself a few paces back.
We entered the stone circle just as the tree creatures were leaving, and I immediately noticed Titania’s empty throne.
Behind it stood her commander, Hippolyta, still wearing a sword and a frown, her massive eagle’s wings tucked in behind her.
Simeon led us up to the dais, bowed again, then stood aside.
Oberon leaned forward in his throne and folded his hands. “Marina, I must apologize for last night. For all the time I have had to prepare for that moment, well, I…” He trailed off and sighed, shaking his head. “I hope you can forgive me, and that we can start over.”
“I should not have run,” I replied, my throat stiff with emotion. “You spoke nothing but the truth, which is all you are capable of doing.”
“Still…” Oberon said quietly, his dark eyes flickering over to Devil.
“And you, Puck? What have you to say for yourself? Antenor tells me you held a blade to his throat this morning. Perhaps you imagine that my laws of hospitality do not extend to your home.” He nodded toward one side of the circle, and I saw Antenor leaning against one of the massive stones, looking smug.
“He entered my home with a blade already drawn, Lord,” spat Devil. “Perhaps you have too many hounds and can no longer keep them all leashed. Best to put one of us down.” He shot Antenor a glare, but Oberon stood up, shadows swirling around his hands and arms.
“You will hold that tongue or lose it, imp. I’ll not hear insults against my own family in this sacred circle.”
“And I’ll not hear any more petty squabbles amongst you menfolk,” said Hippolyta, stepping out from behind the queen’s throne. Her voice was low and sharp, but her gaze softened when it fell on me. “We must discuss the issue at hand.”
“Perhaps, if my darling wife would deign to join us, the discussion would be far more productive,” Oberon snapped. Disbelief flooded my chest, and I took a step forward without thinking.
“You are all no better than children!” I cried. “How many human lifetimes have you had to unlearn this foolishness? I have half a mind to leave you all to your fate, just to teach you a lesson.” They all stared at me in cowed silence, save for Devil, who let out a snort of amusement.
“My apologies,” said Hippolyta quietly. “And to you, my lord.”
Oberon also murmured something unintelligible and sat back down.
“The issue at hand,” Devil said, finally moving to stand beside me, “is that someone is misusing the Arden’s magyk. An unknown person, close to Athenium’s royal family, has acquired the Archer’s Cup flower, and used it to enchant one of the Prince’s own daughters.”
There was a heavy silence, and Hippolyta appeared disturbed by the news, but Oberon calmly laced his fingers together beneath his chin before asking, “To what end?”
“Their aim was apparently to force her into an otherwise unwanted marriage, but I cannot yet say why,” Devil admitted. “If the culprit is human, it likely has nothing to do with us. Perhaps they bargained for a single flower. But if one of the Fair Folk is behind it…”
“The Arden might be at risk,” said Hippolyta.
“If the Prince begins to suspect his daughter is affected by faerie magyk, it could go poorly for us,” Simeon said to Oberon. “His eye has already been turned back to the Arden as of late.”
Devil nodded solemnly. “Lord, I need your permission to search for the flower’s antidote, that we might cure the poor girl of her…affliction.”
Oberon sighed and rubbed his short beard. “Very well. Puck, you will search for the antidote and work out a way to administer it. Simeon, I need your eyes and ears to monitor the situation and see it does not escalate. Hippolyta…”
“Yes, I know,” said the commander dryly.
“Keep Titania out of it.” She put two fingers in her mouth and gave a sharp whistle.
Over her shoulder, Primrose appeared, and Hippolyta cupped her hands around the tiny woman to give whispered instructions.
Once she had her orders, Prim shot up in the air and did a loop before zooming back down to hover a few inches in front of Devil’s face.
He turned his cheek so she could kiss it, then she was gone in a whir of feathers.
When I looked back at the dais, Hippolyta had already vanished too.
“Cousin,” said Oberon, beckoning Antenor forward. “If your father can spare you a few weeks more, I would ask you to assist Simeon in his investigation. We must learn how the Archer’s Cup made it out of the Arden, and why.”
Antenor bowed at the waist. “It would be my honor, Lord. I will send a message back home immediately.”
“A discreet message, if you please,” Oberon said, and Antenor saluted by placing a closed fist over his heart.
He then stretched out his great, bat-like wings and shot into the air, pulling himself up and disappearing through the dome’s oculus.
The gust of wind he left behind threw my hair into disarray.
“Arrogant prick,” Devil muttered under his breath. Oberon stood again and nodded to Simeon, who bowed and left the stone circle too. Then, the faerie king raised an eyebrow.
“You have your instructions and are no longer needed here, Puck. If I have use of you, I will send a summons.” His tone was cold, his face hard as stone, and I couldn’t help but glance at Devil.
Though he appeared impassive, his fingers were twisting behind his back, a small swarm of fireflies dancing around them.
I felt the bizarre urge to take one of his hands, but before I could even quash the idea, he took one of mine and pressed a soft kiss to the back.
“Try not to miss me too desperately, Mayhem,” he whispered with a wink. He quickly left the stone circle, took the bow from his back, and unfurled his wings. Rather than give the impression that I was anxious about his departure, I turned back to Oberon before he took flight.
“Marina, please allow me to apologize again,” he said, descending the dais steps and holding out his hands. “I can only imagine how overwhelming this all must be.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms and tried to hold my chin up. “I came here to pay my debt, and was given the gift of knowing where I came from. I am grateful for that, if nothing else, my lord.”
“Please, no need for that.” Oberon shook his head. “I know we are not yet familiar, but…I…I hope…” He trailed off and sighed again, hands folded in front of him.
The mantle of grief he wore was almost tangible.
It was a heavy, hopeless thing, which I had seen before.
Tuck wore it, so did Sissi, and many people in Nottingham—a shroud to match those covering their loved ones’ still bodies.
My entire life, I had worn one too, woven from the grief of never knowing, and never belonging.
Even the few answers I already had could not remove my shroud, however, merely change its color and weave.
I would never truly know my parents, never have the opportunity to reclaim the life that had been taken from us.
But seeing Oberon, a stranger with whom I shared so many similarities, helped pull the shroud of grief back from my face.
It was like breathing clean air again after a lifetime spent underground.
So, I held my hand out and said, “I hope too…”