Changeling Magic, page 3
part #2 of Thirteen Realms Series
“Her name is Blethna Arbre.”
What? “But I didn’t kill Dansen Arbre.”
He shrugged. “That’s not how she sees it. Your involvement in his affairs led to his death. Poor Eldric is livid.”
Tosser. Jaxen didn’t give a shit about his brother’s feelings. Even in our isolated cottage, we’d heard the rumours: how tense the relationship between the two brothers was, how Lord Eldric chafed at supporting a younger brother who did nothing but drink all day.
“Eldric should ignore her,” the Hawk said. “The king’s own sister killed Dansen Arbre. Blethna knows she’d be laughed out of Whitehaven if she demanded blood price for the death of the man responsible for imprisoning the king. She’s mad if she thinks Eldric will take her claim seriously.”
“Not mad, just hard up for cash. She’s Arbre’s second wife, and the heir is from the first marriage. He doesn’t get on with his delectable stepmother, apparently. Told her to pack herself up and find somewhere else to live.” He leaned back in his chair and put his boots up on the table, legs crossed at the ankle. “Families can be so difficult, can’t they?”
He didn’t seem to be having any trouble—he had a pretty sweet set-up here. As far as I could tell, he did exactly as he pleased, and spent Eldric’s money like there was no tomorrow. He was the last person who should be complaining about his family.
“So how is life for Autumn’s most famous child?” He watched me over the rim of his glass. “Exercising your new powers already, I see. Does this mean we’ll be seeing more of you now?”
“Perhaps.” I wished Eldric would appear. I’d never liked Jaxen, and making small talk with him was not my idea of a good time. Fortunately, he spent long periods travelling, visiting friends in other Realms, so even if I did come back to Autumn permanently, I wouldn’t necessarily have to deal with him on a regular basis.
“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. I won’t tell anyone. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“It’s not a secret, I just haven’t decided yet.”
Jaxen appealed to the Hawk. “Sir Knight, tell her she must come home to Autumn. Surely the mortal world has nothing to equal this?” He waved his glass at the Hall in a generous sweep that sloshed a little ruby liquid over the side.
The Hawk regarded him stonily. “Allegra is free to live wherever she chooses.”
“Of course. But she’s a celebrity now.” His fever-bright gaze returned to me. “That’s what you call it in the mortal world, isn’t it? You’re famous, and everyone wants to get to know you better. Including me.” He grinned, his eyes dropping to my cleavage.
“You’ve had plenty of time to get to know me,” I said, resisting the urge to cross my arms over my breasts. “Nothing’s changed.”
I knew perfectly well that he disliked me as intensely as I disliked him. On the few occasions that he’d been forced to speak to me, he’d done it with a sneer that left me in no doubt of my status as the lowly changeling. Either this was his idea of a joke, or he could see some personal gain in cultivating me now that I had the king’s favour.
“On the contrary, you are vastly more interesting these days. I feel sure we have much in common.” Again, his eyes strayed, and the Hawk tensed.
“The lady is under my protection,” the Hawk growled. If looks could kill, Jaxen would have been a hunk of dead meat on the grass.
“Ah.” Jaxen’s gaze darted between us, bright with interest. “My apologies, Sir Knight. I didn’t realise you had a prior claim.”
Feeling my cheeks flush with heat, I glanced at the Hawk, expecting him to explain that he had no claim on me. As if anyone did. They made me sound like a piece of baggage. But he only glared at Jaxen in silence. Before I could say anything, Eldric appeared at the top of one of the spiral staircases.
“Sir Hawk,” he said, “and Allegra! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Well, if he was pissed with me, at least he was hiding it well. But then, Eldric had always been a good actor.
Jaxen dropped his boots off the table and drained the last of his wine as he stood. He winked at me. “Well, it’s been nice chatting, but I’ll leave you to my brother. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
It would be a cold day in hell before I chose to spend any time with Jaxen. I watched him disappear through one of the archways, then turned my attention to Lord Eldric. He wore brown velvet, in the traditional style of trousers and tunic, with the leaf sigil of his house embroidered above his breast.
We both rose at his approach, but he waved us back into our seats. “I don’t suppose my brother offered you anything? Other than wine, that is. We have coffee, or food if you haven’t eaten.” He glanced at Jaxen’s empty wine glass, his face carefully expressionless, then pushed it aside as he sat down.
“Not for me,” said the Hawk.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, surprised to find it was true. I was usually ravenous after a gig, and I hadn’t had anything to eat since we entered the Realms. “And I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“It’s no trouble,” Eldric said with a practised smile. He sat back, hooking one velvet-clad arm over the back of his chair. “The saviours of the king will always be welcome in Autumn.”
“Thank you,” said the Hawk. “But we are only looking for news of Allegra’s mother.”
“I went home this morning,” I said, “but the cottage was abandoned. She obviously hasn’t been there in months. Do you know where she is?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. I had no idea she’d gone. Livillia likes to keep to herself, you know.”
Yes, I did know. “Have you seen her at all since … since I left?” Since I was unceremoniously booted out, I might have said if I was talking to Willow or Sage. My bitterness wouldn’t be well received here. It wasn’t as if it was Eldric’s fault, and I wanted his help.
He looked up at the branches of the ceiling as he thought. “Midsummer’s Eve, perhaps? I think she was here for the ball.”
Midsummer’s Eve would have been nearly four months ago. It was one of the most important festivals in the fae calendar, and fae lords generally threw a big party for all those living in their domain, which was pretty much compulsory to attend. Judging by the state of her garden, she could easily have been gone since then.
“I know she was definitely here for the one before that, because Geltrin went into labour, and your mother took charge.” He smiled at the memory.
That definitely sounded like my mother. I’d often suspected there must be some Earthcrafting blood back in her family line somewhere, because she had a way with herbal remedies that was second to none. Not that birth generally required herbal remedies, but if there was a medical emergency, it attracted my mother like a bee to nectar.
“So, last Midsummer’s Eve—did she seem herself? Did she mention anything odd?”
“What kind of odd?”
“I don’t know. I’m just trying to think of any reason she would leave. We don’t have any other family … It seems strange that she would take off like that.”
“I’m sure there’s no reason for you to be alarmed. We fae are long-lived. It’s reasonable that we might seek a change of scenery now and again.”
“I suppose so.”
“Perhaps the cottage felt lonely without you there,” the Hawk said.
“It was her own decision to send me away. No one forced her to.”
“Have you never made a decision that you knew was right, but it still made you unhappy?” Eldric asked.
I stared at him, swallowing the words of protest that rose like lumps in my throat. Of course he would see it like that. The “right decision”—to discard a child like a used tissue, like one of those thoughtless people that bought a cute puppy for Christmas and then gave it to a shelter in March when they realised how big it was going to grow. How could that be the right decision? Only to a fae.
I looked down at the table’s gleaming surface, swallowing my anger as best I could. “Could you ask your people if anyone knows anything?”
“Of course. Will you be staying in the cottage? You’re welcome to a bed here at the Hall, if you wish.”
I let out a deep breath. “No, I think I’ll go home for now.”
My mother’s disappearance had knocked me for six. I’d known that a joyful reunion was unlikely, but still I’d hoped for something. An apology, maybe? Some kind of reason for what she’d done? Now, for the first time in years, the siren song of the Realms was quiet, buried under a weight of regret and hurt, and just a little stirring of fear. There was no way I should care what had happened to her after what she’d done to me, and yet, here I was, worrying that she was in trouble and I’d come too late to do anything to help her. The heart chooses who it will love, and logic plays no part.
It wasn’t until I was back in the mortal world that I realised I’d thought of my borrowed bed in Willow’s sith as “home”.
4
A week later, Sage and Rowan were playing snooker in the back room of The Drunken Irishman, a fierce competition that took place most Friday nights if we didn’t have a gig. According to Rowan, he was the master. That may have been true a year ago, when he’d taught Sage to play, but he was perilously close to being toppled from his throne. She was a quick learner.
“Nice shot,” he said, as Sage sunk a red that had been sitting in an awkward spot behind the pink.
She didn’t reply, too focused on her next shot. She was trying to sink the brown into the top corner pocket. From where I was sitting, nursing my beer, it looked pretty straightforward—a lot easier than the fluky shot with the red that she’d just pulled off. Yet the brown ball curved away from her cue and ended up nowhere near the corner.
She straightened, giving Rowan a suspicious glare.
He blinked at her, the picture of innocence. “That’s a shame. You gave it too much spin.”
“I didn’t give it any spin. I hit the ball dead centre.”
He bent over the table, lining up his next shot. He was only three points ahead of her, but now he had the chance to stretch his lead. Three balls dropped in quick succession, and Sage’s face blackened as she came to sit at the table with me.
“He’s cheating,” she said.
With his fae hearing, he must have heard her, but he continued to sink balls as if nothing was wrong.
I grinned. “With magic, you mean?”
“Yep. That ball was right on course, and then it curved away for no reason.”
Rowan stopped pretending he couldn’t hear her. “Maybe you’re just not as good as you think you are.”
“And maybe you’re a cheating scum.” Her tone was mild, but I knew Rowan was in for a world of trouble. Sage was a yeller—it was only when she was truly pissed that she got all quiet and measured.
“It’s just a game,” I said, which was a complete waste of breath. Sage and Rowan were both too competitive to see any contest as “just” a game. Sage had dealt with her many losses as part of the price of learning to play, but now that she was actually getting good at it, her competitive streak was alive and well.
“Yeah, Sage. What she said. No need to get all riled up because I’m beating you.”
I rolled my eyes. Now he was goading her, hoping she’d play badly because she was angry. “Rowan, don’t be a dick. Even if you win, it won’t be worth it. She’ll make you pay.”
“She won’t win,” he said, with a confidence that his next shot—a miss—didn’t justify.
Sage took a swig of her drink and got up, a grim look on her face. “No more tricks, Rowan. I’m watching you.”
“Aah, I’m so scared. The Dark Lord’s daughter is watching me.”
I covered my eyes with my hand. Now he was bringing her father into it? “Do you have a death wish, Rowan? ’Cause there are easier ways to die, let me tell you.”
Someone sat down in the seat Sage had just vacated as I took my hand away again. I’d expected Rowan, but it was the Hawk.
I smiled at him, striving for nonchalance, though my heart had done a little backflip of excitement at the sight of him. “Hey, there. What are you doing here?”
“Watching someone die, apparently. What’s the problem?”
“Rowan is cheating at snooker.”
“Am not,” Rowan said, without turning around.
We all watched Sage’s next shot bounce off another ball and ricochet in an odd direction. She glared balefully at Rowan.
He held up his hands. “That wasn’t me, I swear.”
I glanced at the Hawk, who was staring at Rowan expressionlessly. If Rowan was using magic, the Hawk would have felt it. “Did he—?” I whispered.
The Hawk nodded, watching Rowan take his next shot. The ball looked like it was going in, but it was moving so slowly. In the end, it teetered on the edge of the hole but didn’t fall.
A grin split Sage’s face. “Move over, loser. Watch how the pros do it.”
I glared at Rowan as she got ready to take the shot, shaking my head at him. He gave me an innocent who, me? look in return.
Sage’s first ball travelled smoothly toward the pocket and dropped without incident. Maybe Rowan had decided not to misbehave in front of the Hawk. The knight did cut a rather menacing figure. Dressed all in black, he sat very still, watching the game like a predator stalking its prey.
Only three balls remained on the table, and the scores were too close to call it. If Sage could sink these last three, she would win, but if she missed her next shot, Rowan could still take the game. She lined up her next shot with more than usual care, all her focus on that blue ball. She hit the cue ball cleanly and the blue sailed toward the pocket she’d lined it up with—until it skipped, as if it had hit some tiny bit of debris on the table, and wobbled off course. I glanced sharply at Rowan.
Then Sage gasped, and I looked back at the ball to see it make a sharp left turn and head straight for the middle pocket. What the—?
Then it veered again, and my lips twitched as I finally realised what was going on. The Hawk had intervened. His face was stony as he watched the ball traverse the baize, but it corrected course again and fell obediently into the centre pocket.
Sage whooped with delight. Rowan gave the Hawk an uncertain look. The knight didn’t look the type to play magical tug-of-war with Sage’s ball, but he was the only one here with the power to do it.
Sage’s next shot wandered all over the table as Rowan and the Hawk fought over the ball. Sage could hardly stop laughing.
“You should see your face,” she said to Rowan, and then she turned to the Hawk. “Do I even need to line up the last one?”
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “Are you suggesting there is any other way to win?”
She grinned at him. “No, of course not.”
The last ball visited every corner of the table, with Sage cheering it on, before it finally fell into a pocket.
“Now that was a game of snooker,” Sage said. “Hey, loser, don’t feel bad. Maybe next time I’ll let you win.”
“Maybe next time I’ll make sure there are no powerful spectators,” he muttered.
“Or you could try not cheating,” the Hawk offered coolly.
“Or that,” Rowan agreed cheerfully, not at all fazed by the knight’s evident disapproval. “Can I buy you a drink?”
My phone rang while Rowan was taking drink orders. I didn’t recognise the number. “Hello?”
“Allegra? It’s Jamison.”
Something about his voice sounded off. “Are you all right?”
“I need to see you. Can you come to the shop tonight?”
“Tonight?” This was weird. Jamison had never called me before. How did he even have my number? I occasionally ran into him at The Drunken Irishman, but mostly I only saw him at the pharmacy. Why on earth would he need me to go to the pharmacy now? “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk like this. Come to the shop. Please.”
There was such tension in his voice I couldn’t help but say yes. He sounded desperate. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I hung up and found the Hawk staring at me intently. “Trouble?”
“I don’t know. That was kind of weird. Jamison wants to see me right now, but he wouldn’t say why.”
“Jamison? The pharmacist?”
“Yes.” I stood up to leave, and he rose with me.
“I doubt it’s about medication. I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He said nothing, merely followed me as I walked out to the main room and found Rowan and Sage at the bar. I tapped Sage on the shoulder. “Just got a strange phone call from Jamison. We’re going over there to see what’s wrong.”
“I just ordered you a beer,” Rowan said.
“You’ll have to drink it for me.”
“I can manage that.”
“I’ll drink the Hawk’s whiskey,” Sage offered. Such a selfless move.
“Thanks,” he said drily.
“Maybe Jamison’s just discovered he’s been accidentally poisoning you all these years.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, maybe. Hopefully, this won’t take long.”
She shrugged. “You know where to find us. Otherwise, I’ll see you at home.”
Outside, a warm breeze was blowing, and the night was quiet after the noise of the pub. The Hawk and I were the only two people on the street, our footsteps the only sound. My mind worried at the problem of Jamison as we walked. The only real contact I had with him was on my regular visits to get my asthma medication, and there was no way he was demanding to see me so urgently over that. What other reason could there be? I was drawing a complete blank.
As long as it was nothing too serious, perhaps I’d use the opportunity to have him make up some more medicine for me. I would have had to drop in some time in the next few days anyway, as my supply was running low. It only took about three weeks for my inhaler to run out.
The Hawk seemed relaxed enough as he walked at my side. He was a puzzle—why had he come? Last time I’d seen him, he’d acted all possessive in front of Jaxen, but there was nothing loverlike about him now. Maybe that had just been a kindness, to stop Jaxen harassing me. He didn’t speak, but then he wasn’t like Sage—he didn’t have to fill every moment of silence. Thoughts of Sage brought the snooker game to my mind.
