Chapter 39
The air swirled with
shadows, and suddenly Fiona leapt from the bed and raced across the
room to stand between Gideon and Christophe. From the air itself,
the shadows wavered and re-formed into the image of Justice’s
sword, which she held in arms trembling with its
weight.
“Come near him and
I’ll kill you myself,” she told the Fae, her voice quiet and
deadly. “He is mine and I won’t give him up so
easily.”
Christophe stared at
the sword, wondering if the blow to his head had damaged his mind.
“How did you—”
“I took a chance and
shadowed it, hoping the magic door to Fae Wonderland would
recognize me as part Fae and let me in carrying it,” Fiona said.
“Remember when I talked to Justice? I borrowed it and hid it under
my coat.”
“I can’t believe he
let you touch his precious sword.”
“I can’t believe
we’re talking about this now,” she snapped.
She was right. He
called to power every element he could touch, and sent fire and
water and earth and air soaring through his body, through his
magic, toward the Fae. Right now, he needed to verify that he
really had enthralled Gideon.
Atlantean power met
Fae power and question met answer. Christophe had succeeded in
wielding the Siren correctly. Gideon na Feransel, prince of the
Unseelie Court, was firmly in Christophe’s power.
“Maybe I should make
him dance,” Christophe muttered.
“Maybe you should get
on with it, so I can put this sword down.”
Christophe marveled
at her courage and strength and was so humbled by her love that
again, just for an instant, he felt that he could never deserve
her. Then he looked at the hated box and back at Fiona, and he
realized that they deserved each other.
“We’re better
together than apart,” he said. “Isn’t that what love truly
means?”
She almost dropped
the sword. “I’m a little busy here for philosophical discussions.
Come on, we have to get out of here before he hits us with some
kind of Fae super whammy.”
Christophe carefully
took the sword, placed it on the edge of the bed, and then pulled
his protesting love into his arms and kissed her
thoroughly.
“There will be no
whammy, super or otherwise. I have enthralled him with the gem he
sought so hard to control.”
He watched the
realization dawn on her face. “Willingly spoken. But all you
promised was to show him the full power. Which you did, by ramming
it down his throat.”
“Exactly.”
“Have I told you how
much I love you?”
“You can spend an
eternity telling me,” he said seriously. “It will never be
enough.”
“Will you do me a
favor?”
“Anything.”
She pointed to the
box. “Destroy that damn thing.”
“Gladly.” He sent
ball after ball of pure blue energy smashing into the hated box
until it exploded into tiny shards of wood. Fiona and he watched
from behind his energy shield as it burned and, after ensnaring the
Fae in a web of glittering strands of power, he turned to his woman
and kissed her senseless.
Declan burst into the
room. “Hey, cut out the mushy stuff. Let’s get out of here. I feel
waterlogged.”
Fiona rushed over to
hug her brother, who hugged her back for a minute then squirmed out
of her embrace.
“Are you safe? Maeve
told me you were, but I didn’t believe her,” Fiona said, tears
streaming down her face. “She—I can’t ever trust her again. They
wouldn’t let me see you and I was so afraid.”
“I’m fine, Fee,”
Declan said, blushing. “Tip-top. Let’s go, already. I marked the
way out.”
“What a good idea,” a
new voice said.
“Maeve. Where is
Denal? Are you okay?” Fiona hesitated, but then started to go to
her friend. Christophe held her back. Here, in this place, Maeve
was not the woman Fiona had loved.
And yet the Fae
princess’s face softened and she smiled. Maybe Christophe was
wrong, but he still wasn’t taking the chance. Not with Fiona, not
ever again.
“Only you would worry
over my well-being, Fiona,” Maeve said. “So I will grant you
another boon, neither repayment nor debt owed.”
With that, she waved
a hand and Justice’s sword flew through the air and neatly beheaded
Gideon. Fiona buried her face in Christophe’s shoulder in horror,
but he inclined his head toward Maeve. “My thanks, my lady. That
boon is one I happily accept, although I would have enjoyed doing
it myself. Both for Fiona and for my parents.”
“Perhaps, for once,
you do not have to be the dealer of death,” Maeve said. “Had you
not rescued Fiona, he never would have given her up, and she is my
friend, not a whore to be held captive as a sex slave,” she said,
and the ice and thunder in her voice made him glad that he had not
made her an enemy. On the floor, Gideon’s body and head dissolved
into a fine sparkling dust and then vanished.
“He was rogue, my
wicked, scheming brother,” she continued. “Running rampant, working
out of the hierarchy in the Unseelie Court. A mere upstart trying
to take over my line and curry favor with our queen, my lady
mother.”
“So this is a family
squabble,” Fiona said, raising her head. “All of this for that? I
don’t believe it.”
“The world is in a
state of unbalance since Anubisa, the vampire goddess, has been
missing,” Maeve said. “The vampires are working on their own
agendas. The gods are unhappy. Ragnarok
is coming. Can’t you feel it, Atlantean? Do you really choose for
your land to rise at a time so similar to the one that drove you
beneath the waters?”
Christophe took a
deep breath. “I hear the truth in your words. I may even agree with
you in some part. But I have sworn an oath, and I must honor it.
The Siren must be returned to Atlantis.”
“We of the Unseelie
Court are not in opposition to your plans, Atlantean. We are fine
allies to have, you will learn—or dangerous enemies. The Seelie
Court will soon learn this, we hope, and our alliance will be
completed. Now that Gideon is dead, that time may come
sooner.”
“That I believe.”
Fiona shuddered. “I
am so sorry, Maeve. I know your people are different, but to have
to kill your own brother . . . I am so sorry.”
Maeve’s eyes
glistened with something as she regarded her friend. Christophe
would almost have sworn they were unshed tears. But she didn’t
respond.
“Now what?”
Christophe asked.
“I will study you and
your methods through your warrior representative Denal for some
while. Then we shall meet and determine what to do next. Strategy
is like breath to the Fae, and we are more well-versed in . . .
breathing . . . than
most.”
Christophe bowed
deeply. He could hear between her words to the truth beneath. Maeve
would almost certainly be the next queen of the Unseelie Court. Now
would be as good a time as any to begin an ambassadorial
relationship.
Fiona took a few
steps toward her old friend. “I don’t even know what to call you
anymore, Your Highness.”
Maeve’s face lit up.
“Call me your friend. That’s all I have ever asked.”
“I’m your friend,
too. Always,” Fiona promised.
“And possibly a
distant cousin,” Christophe murmured. “Seelie Court Fae. I wonder
what Rhys na Garanwyn will have to say about that.”
“If he says anything
unpleasant, please leave him to me,” Maeve said, her smile turning
to something glittering and fearful.
“I will clear the
Scarlet Ninja’s name,” Maeve continued. “Perhaps even make an extra
donation to a few of your causes. Before the week is done, all
shall know that the Scarlet Ninja saved England from a
war.”
“Thank you, but I
could only do that with a lot of help from Atlantis and from a Fae
princess who used to borrow my lipstick,” Fiona said, smiling, but
then she turned solemn. “The shifters he enthralled?”
“Already released.
Please extend my apologies to the families of the ones he killed.
We will extend monetary reparation, for what little that does to
help. Lucinda, the alpha you rescued with your sacrifice, will
heal.”
“How do you
know—”
“I have my ways.”
Maeve said. “How do you think I always knew where to find the hot
guys in school?”
“The hot guys found
you,” Fiona said, smiling a little. “Thank you for what you said
about the shifters. I’ll tell Lucinda.”
Maeve laughed. “Never
thank a Fae, or you will become beholden. You can send me more
Chanel for a solstice gift to pay this small debt.”
With that, Maeve led
them to the way out of the Summer Lands. In a short time, Fiona,
Christophe, and Declan were standing on the steps outside of
Fairsby Manor, dazed, as Hopkins and the Atlanteans rushed toward
them. The sun shone brightly overhead. Christophe gave Justice his
sword and the two exchanged nods.
“What in the name of
all the gods happened to you?” Bastien demanded. “You were in there
for more than two weeks.”
Declan blushed a
fiery red. “Um—”
The Atlanteans stared
at him, fascinated.
“Nymphs,” Christophe
said dryly.
“Ohhhh. Nymphs,”
Brennan said. “So will we be going back in around nine months from
now on another rescue mission?”
“What?” Fiona rounded
on her brother, but then her cheeks flamed red as she realized.
“Oh. Ohhhhh.”
Declan hung his head,
his cheeks as hot as his sister’s. “Trust me, sis. You don’t want
to know the details.”
Justice bowed to
Fiona. “My sword, my lady? Did it help?”
“Yes, Just holding it
made me braver.”
“I doubt that’s even
possible,” Christophe said.
“Can we go home now?”
Declan asked. “I really need to go home now.”
“How about we go home
now?” Christophe opened a portal, and this time it flared to
brilliant life as soon as he called. Interesting,
that.
“And never say the
word nymph again?” Declan pleaded.
Christophe always
claimed, later, that it was one of the others who started laughing
first.