16. Jen

16

Jen

" O h, hell. Oh, fuck."

Troy put their hand on Jen's shoulder and squeezed. "You can do this."

"They hate me."

"They don't know you. Teach them who you are, and that you know Maeve better than anyone."

Jen bounced on the balls of her feet, her inner demons whispering to her this was ridiculous. Who was she to dictate to an entire group of the imperial guard? Maeve may have told her to manage things while she was gone, but surely she had made a mistake.

Taking a deep breath, Jen attempted to calm her racing thoughts and insecurities. This was not the time. Maeve needed her to be able to keep it together.

I managed for nearly two decades in the publishing industry. I can do this.

But she had been cracking, hadn't she? Jen could see it when she looked in the mirror and could feel it with how much more difficult each day seemed to be over the one before. She had been working hard but running head-long at a brick wall.

She had not divulged to Maeve that bills had stacked up. That she was in danger of losing her home.

Gone, she thought. Now I live in a damned castle.

There were many reasons she did not want to go back to Earth. Not least of all the dreams. Dreams she remembered in fragments and scraps as the days wore on.

And she had told no one, so far.

"Little woman." Another squeeze on her shoulders, and Jen craned her head back to look at Troy. They had on a most severe expression. "I will kill anyone who harms you, but you must be guardian of your own heart and mind."

She twisted and planted a quick kiss on their lips. "Thank you."

"I'm right here," they whispered back, hands on her waist. "Let's do this."

She nodded and went back to the doorway through which she would enter the assembly hall. Behind the main throne room, it was a chamber the castle provided for the gathering of dignitaries and members of the imperial guard. She had heard the room had been missing during Sebastian's reign, and she believed it, because it was fresh. As though someone had put sheets over all the tables and turned up the chairs until that sorcerer met his fateful end.

The room was similar in style to the auditorium classrooms she had attended at University. Here, the twin suns light shone through wide skylights edged in twining vines of black iron. The iron continued to twine around the room, twisting up columns and occasionally sporting a blooming golden rose. It made the place look vaguely garden-like, but the severe stone walls without window or ornament did put a damper on the general vibe.

Torches hung in wall sconces and an enormous black chandelier dripping with a hundred wax candles was suspended overhead, unlit for now.

Probably for the best that it's midday, Jen thought. We're running low on supplies.

Even though, inexplicably, Maeve had begun transforming substances in the same manner as Rodan, they had been focused on the most pressing needs first. Medicine and food. There was still so much more needed tending to, and those two had been entitled to whatever breaks they could have. And now they were gone.

Jen peered at the assembled group of fifty imperial guard, plus some of the more adept household staff that she had dealings with so far. The magic wielders, Aesa's blonde hair vivid in the light from the ceiling. Visiting uppity-ups from all over the Five Realms. More than a hundred souls in all.

And she had to tell them the two Fae who were supposed to usher in a new golden age were missing.

Again.

There was also Josalyn Price. She sat near the front, at the edge. She lazed in her chair, making it look like a divan. Her nails flashed with gemstones and she had long salted black hair.

And she was staring at Pike as though she would eat him. He was glaring back at her, a hand on one of his daggers.

"You may have to keep an eye on those two," Jen said, pointing out the pair to her lover. "I think they want to either fuck or kill each other."

Troy chuffed a laugh, and she smiled, then took a deep breath and stepped from the shadows of her hideaway and out onto the speaking platform.

A hush fell over the assembled group, where before they had been a burbling brook of conversation. Everyone's attention was on her, and Jen was grateful she had taken the chance to change into something resembling proper court attire.

Unlike the travel leathers she had sported most of her time in the Realms, now Jen wore fine black cloth, something between satin and wool, with tassels at her shoulders and twining vines of golden embroidery tracing down a jacket lined with gold buttons in the shapes of roses. She had on a corset beneath which, though it pinched her waist, helped keep her posture straight. The jacket was long enough it flared behind her, framing her legs clad in the same black material, stitched with gilt thread. A few pieces of tasteful gold jewelry which completed her ensemble flashed at throat and ear, catching the light. Heeled boots clacked on the stone dais.

She wished she could have had notes, but that would have looked amateurish. A phone or something, anything, would have been a boon, but instead she wore nothing but the silver and moonstone sword and dagger pairing, resting one hand on the hilt of the dagger as she looked out over the assembled people.

"Thank you for coming," she said. "I appreciate this transition, though desired, has been a strain on us all."

There were a few murmurs of appreciative agreement.

Jen gave a little smile and a nod toward one of the more vocal of the guards. "For those of you who do not know me, my name is Jennifer Casper. I have asked you all here today because there is some important news to discuss, and a decision to be made. I will be the one to ultimately make that decision, but I will take as many of your voices into account as I can."

There was more of a stirring this time, and Victor glared at her from the front row, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He said nothing, but his posture and expression telegraphed quite enough.

"Our Queen, Maeve, and Rodan have had urgent business take them off-world, to the Fae Court," Jen started. "Queen Maeve has left me in charge."

The whole room erupted in noise.

Victor was still quiet, as were many of the others closer to the stage and edges of the room, but the vast majority of the guard and other visitors were in turmoil.

She caught some of what they were saying, but it was piecemeal at best. Lots of, "Not from here," and, "Who does she think she is?"

Jen was, sadly, somewhat used to this response.

She placed her fingers in her mouth and whistled so shrill that several covered their ears and all fell silent. When she took a breath again, she projected as well as she ever had given several years of electives in theater.

That had been her true love, after all. The stage.

"I am Maeve Almeida's sworn agent on Earth. I have managed her affairs for over a decade, and I know her better than all of you put together."

She let the challenge hang in the air, daring anyone to say otherwise.

No one did.

"I know Maeve would want you to be represented well, even though I could give a shit less." Jen laughed and lowered her voice enough she wasn't straining it, but could still be heard by the room. The acoustics here were fabulous. "So tell me what you would do. The coronation is in four days, but we don't know if either will make it back before then. The question I ask all of you is this; do we crown Maeve in her absence, or must we wait?"

"You truly do not know how long?" asked Josalyn. Her voice was deep and rich. Something smoky. "She and I have business."

Jen prickled. "The Queen has business with all of her subjects, and is responsible for the Realms. She will return soon, I'm sure of it. I just don't know how soon that will be." A few more hours? A day? She could be longer.

"Do you not have a way of contacting her?" Someone asked, and others echoed them.

I wish I did. There was more than one reason she missed her phone. Technology in general. Even though Jen was beginning to find a grasp of magic, a sort of tingling at the tips of her fingers she could not explain away, she had no idea what to do with it.

"I cannot reach her at this time, and the question still stands," Jen said after the chatter had died down enough. "I have given you all the information I'm at leave to disclose. Tell me what you would have us do."

"Nothing," Victor declared, rising from his seat along with several members of the guard closest to him, all older and with severe expressions. They each had a hand on their weapons. "I would have you step aside. You are not fit for leadership."

"And you are?" she challenged, standing firm even as a part of her was screaming.

"I've led the imperial forces for more than thirty years in exile, and decades prior. I know this world." He stepped forward and lowered his voice a little, though it would still carry to the assembled crowd. "Step down, miss Casper, and we will keep you in council."

Jen opened her mouth, but before she could say a word one of the doors at the top of the auditorium slammed against the wall, and in walked High Priestess Thea.

Now her mouth hung open for entirely different reasons.

The High Priestess drew the attention of the room even, reluctantly, Victor's. The men who had been set to guard the chamber and keep this meeting somewhat private were slumped in the doorway, but Jen could see from her spot that they were still breathing. They weren't fully vetted yet , she reminded herself, before her own focus drew to the priestess.

Thea spoke as though she had been in the room from the beginning, privy to all the conversation that had come before. "You would be unwise to pull the gods-touched from power, Captain."

"And why is that?" he challenged. "And she is not?—"

"She has the mark of Lutem shining upon her," Thea said, gesturing toward Jen, who drew another few curious glances. She lifted her chin. "Perhaps," The High Priestess continued. "It is only so visible to the devout."

"I can see it," Nath said, his expression thoughtful as he stared at Jen.

Victor glared at her, and then his eyes widened, "What? How?"

"Do you think I lied? That Maeve did not want me in this position?" Jen said, trying not to shout though she wanted to.

Thea was descending the steps sweeping down towards the stage, flanked by two attending priestesses with half-veiled faces, their extravagant hairstyles paling in comparison to Thea's own crown of mahogany and golden tresses, which was studded with jewels and strung with pearls. Jen tried not to stare at her approach.

She turned her attention forcefully back to Victor, who was still the closer threat. "I am loyal to Maeve. In recognition, her father, the god of death, bestowed his mark upon me."

Well so much for keeping that secret , she thought. But may as well lean into the god-marked status and the protection it offered.

"May I, regent?" Thea asked as she stood at the foot of the dais. Jen eyed her for a moment, then gave a slight nod. The High Priestess did not delay in mounting the short steps and crossing the stage toward her, then dipping into a curtsey before rising and leaning in to whisper, "Will you accept my help?"

"What's the price?" Jen whispered back, barely moving her lips.

Thea smiled. "I just want to talk later, alone." She fell into another curtsey, then tipped her head to the side, acknowledging Troy. "You can bring your lover."

Jen did not hesitate. "Accepted."

When Thea rose, she was all wide smiles, which she turned on the assembled group. "The High Seat of Garnaism recognizes Maeve Almeida as High Queen of the Five Realms. Empress of us all. Not only that, but daughter to Lutem."

There was a minor murmur at this, but the rumor was well-spread. This merely confirmed it.

"Her coming has been preordained. Do not doubt her return. She will always come home."

Jen sensed something shift, then, beneath her feet. Not like the jerk before an earthquake, what she knew from her time in California, but more—as though the planet below her were purring.

Josalyn closed her eyes as though she, too, sensed this.

"The woman beside me is Maeve Almeida's chosen, and marked by her father as such. You do not deny what you see, do you?"

There was nothing from the assembled group except subtle movement as Victor and his group took their seats again, and Jen felt the color rise in her cheeks.

She lifted her chin again. "Tell me what you want," she repeated. "Do we crown Maeve in absentee? Or do we postpone until her return?"

There was a minor moment of silence, and then the debate began in earnest.

The High Priestess reached out and squeezed Jen's shoulder, then stepped down and took a seat at the front, right at the end. She stayed quiet for the rest of the meeting, though those in her retinue were not shy about sharing their own opinions.

Jen tried to balance the pro's and con's, the well-thought responses and the hasty emotional ones, against her own general opinion.

But was stunned when the popular conclusion came from Nath, of all people. "We should crown in absence, and it should be you who holds it. You bear Lutem's mark. You are close as sister to the Queen."

She attempted not to tear up at that proclamation, and the people who heartily echoed and agreed with his statement. Ever since she had met Maeve, she had sensed a connection of kinship. A sense they would be together forever.

And now I can be.

Chest swelling with emotion, Jen cleared her throat to quiet the assembled. "Thank you all for your time and your thoughts. You have given me much to consider." She stepped backward and gave the slightest of bows toward the group, staring at Victor all the while. He had been silent, though the hostility radiating from him seemed to dissipate as time went on. "Expect my decision before the rise of Tegal."

There was a murmur of general disappointment, but Jen ignored it and turned, finding Pike and Troy there to usher her into the hall beyond. She heard nothing but a faint ringing in her ears as they walked back to the chambers she shared with Troy.

It still smelled of sex, despite the cracked window.

She glanced at Pike, but he was staring at the ceiling, pretending an intense interest in the hammered bronze patterns. Jen set to lighting a brazier of incense, then stoked the flames in the fireplace back into life. The open window had made it cold. Troy went and closed it, their steps silent behind her.

"That woman is going to want to make an alliance with the throne," they said as they came back, reaching down to help her up. The fire was quickly warming the room, and the incense was masking the activities of earlier. "I don't trust her."

"Thea? Neither do I. How long do you think we have before she comes knocking?"

"Maybe ten more minutes," Pike growled. "I assume I won't be allowed to stay."

"Neither will any of her people," Jen pointed out. "She'll be outnumbered, and Troy can kill her easily."

"And spark a war," Pike said without inflection or hesitation. "It's a foolish thought."

"She's still outnumbered and unarmed."

"You assume far too much," the scrapper said. "She could have hidden weapons. I should search her before?—"

"No," Jen said, interrupting him. "That's enough. She's here for a reason. She traveled all the way here—probably partway in a massive storm—for a reason. What is it?"

"She wants an alliance," Troy repeated, grasping her elbow, their grip firm. "You can't. The Teacher's, you've seen them, what they do."

"I remember," Jen said, placing a hand over where they held her. "But you have to admit they're the outliers. Fanatics and fundamentalists. They want to destroy, but Garnaism itself? It's not all that?—"

"It's not just now. It's not just then. Garnaism is steeped in blood. They stood back while my people were slaughtered," Troy hissed. "The Songweavers, they let them all be put to the sword or the pyre, all so that they could gain the supremacy of religion in the Realms. They preach tolerance now, but by inaction they allowed us to be killed in the name of their gods."

Jen stared back into their dark eyes, then pressed her palm into the side of their face. "Oh, love. I'm sorry."

"Where were they when Ferndale was suffering?" they asked her. "Kendra told me that she got word to the temple, but they did nothing. They have their own army, they could have taken a mere quarter of it to Ferndale and gotten rid of the Orator?—"

"If we'd just assassinated him, there would have been more than three thousand people who died alongside him," Jen reminded Troy, knowing well what Maeve had said about the incident. All she had done to ensure the people of the Fifth Realm were safe from that creature forevermore.

"The High Priestess couldn't have known," they insisted, expression and voice pleading. "They could have imprisoned him, I know not, only they did nothing, just as they continue to. They will make poor allies."

There was a knock at the door, and Pike moved toward it, keeping an eye on Jen. She knew he would not open it until she bade him do so.

She looked at her lover. "I think you should go."

They blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I love you. I just don't think you have the clearest head when it comes to these people, and I can't be making enemies right now. I'll back Maeve, but I won't be putting forth decisions on matters of state without her. Not like this." She reached for them, and tried not to feel the sting of rejection when they drew back. She balled her hands into fists at her side, stomach sinking. "Go. I'll have Pike stay with me. I won't be alone."

Troy looked more wounded then she had ever seen them, but they picked up their bow and went to the door, ducking out before High Priestess Thea could make her way in.

The woman was shorter than Jen, who was only three inches over five feet, but what she did to her hair made her seem taller. Glancing behind her at the retreating elf, and then at the room now occupied by Jen and Pike, she asked in a low voice, "Are we having a quarrel?"

Smiling back, Jen said sweetly, "Nothing to worry about. Pike will be staying. Won't you have a seat? Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Wine, if you have it. Red." Thea settled into one of the wide armchairs, looking well at home among the royal furnishings. In this light, Jen was surprised to see how young the High Priestess really was. Still just in her twenties, her face showed no signs of age, and she had dimples when she smiled, which she did often.

Jen poured her a goblet, passing it to her before pouring one for herself and offering to Pike, who declined. Lifting the silver cup in toast she said, "To your safe arrival in Realmsgate."

"It seems not a moment too soon," Thea responded, lifting her cup and drinking deep. She let out a small gasp and a petite belch that made Jen smile despite herself. The woman grinned back, the look infectious. "Truly the will of the gods we survived the storm we encountered mid-journey. I am thankful to be on steady ground."

The wine was sweet but had enough of a woody finish that Jen gave the bottle a second glance. "You wanted to talk with me in private?" she prodded. It was late, and despite that Thea seemed less intense now than she had when she was storming the audience room, Jen wanted sleep.

Thea provided another wide smile. "I come to witness the crowning of High Queen Maeve, and I have come to bring warning and guidance. I wished to speak directly with our Queen about these issues, but I will absolutely converse with one of the gods chosen." She bowed her head, then stared openly at the mark on Jen's forehead. "It's beautiful."

Jen thought so, too, but did not say. "I'm surprised you noticed as soon as you did. It's not exactly a neon sign above my head blinking ‘god marked'."

Thea stared even more. "It's brilliant to my eyes. Like a beacon. I do not know this nee-on you speak of, but it is there. The devout see it well."

That didn't sit well with Jen, but she did not want to say so. I may need to invest in some hats. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude and I certainly do appreciate your rescue back there," she started. "But I've had a really long day and I still have a few fires to attend to." Mostly she had to find Troy, and apologize.

"Of course," Thea said, setting her wine down on a nearby table and leaning forward, hands clasped between her knees. "Soon after you left the shores of Cresna, we all began to have dreams."

Jen's heart picked up a pace. "Dreams?" she echoed.

"Yes," Thea said, eyes shining with religious fervor. "Not just those with a potential for prophecy, but all of the priestesses. Even myself. When we spoke to one another about it, we found that we were each seeing pieces of a whole."

Jen sank into an armchair across from Thea, sparing a glance for Pike who had been absolutely silent throughout all of this. He had his arms at his side, thumbs brushing the hilts of his dagger while his gaze was all for the High Priestess.

She wished she had not told Troy to go. She wished she had told them about her dreams before this, as silly as they seemed. "What is it that you're all dreaming of?"

"Earth, we believe. Maeve Almeida's adopted home. And we see spreading from it mass destruction that eats through the worlds like an aggressive cancer." Thea said.

Jen felt her skin go cold. She took a gulp of her wine and set it on the side table. "That's interesting."

"You've had them too," Thea said. "I can see the specter of it upon you." She tilted her head. "Have you ever considered joining an order?"

Jen changed the subject. "It seems strange you would come here just because of a dream. That's a long way to travel."

Thea's smile was wide but her tone chided. "You know as well as I do they are more than mere dreams. Especially ones shared, and repeated, among so many. I doubt we are alone in it. Tell me, have you seen anything of them in your waking hours?"

Jen had absolutely zero intention of divulging that information. Standing, she spoke brusquely. "We have rooms reserved for visiting dignitaries. Several are full but I'm sure a suite can be prepared for you and your retinue."

"We've already found some to our liking," Thea said, standing as well. She clasped her hands before her, looking as though she were awaiting someone to come by and paint her portrait. There was a certain timelessness to her beauty, despite her youth. And when she smiled again, it near-blinded. "We will speak more in the coming days. I intend to stay until Queen Maeve returns. I will be with her when she goes back to Earth for the final time."

Jen blinked. "You intend to go to Earth?"

"It is my destiny to witness the events that are to come, and to offer counsel and aid, as I said. She will need it." There shined excitement in her wide brown eyes. "And I have longed to see the world which housed our foretold one."

Pike moved forward, holding an arm out to the High Priestess. "May I escort you back to your rooms?"

Thea took the offered arm and beamed at them both. "I believe this to be the beginning of something incredible. Don't you?"

Without waiting on an answer, they left, and Jen sank back into her chair, the air in the room suddenly too hot, too stuffy. She drained her wine and lifted herself to a stand with a groan, going to the window and throwing it open. Light flurries of snow were drifting from the sky, catching in the weak light filtering through the clouds. Below, she could see the courtyard where Sunny was stalled alongside the rest of the horses.

Her eyes burned despite the bite of the cold, and she longed to go down there and bury her face in the neck of that golden-hued mare. To breathe deep of the smell of sweet hay and horse sweat. There was something incredibly grounding about doing so.

The door clicked behind her and Jen whirled, hands flying to her weapons.

Troy flashed a grin, there and then gone. "Your reactions are getting better."

Her chin trembled, and the next thing she knew she was enveloped in her lovers arms. They smelled like something she could hardly name. Home. Belonging.

She broke away first, wiping her eyes on the heels of her palms. "I have so much to tell you." She blinked up at them, still feeling the sting of tears. They were studying her, expression impassive but radiating love and acceptance on a level she was only just beginning to believe.

It was intense, especially after she had pushed them away.

A part of her did not want to confess to the strange visions, if they were truly that, but she had to trust Troy. To believe that they loved her, no matter what insanity she brought into their lives.

She took a deep breath. "Ever since we got to Realmsgate? I've been having dreams."