19. Maeve

19

Maeve

T here was a Fae restorative that came in a silver vial, was clear and cool as mountain water, and Maeve had taken two droughts of it so far. The sensation of it was something akin to sparks in her blood and made her feel like she was dancing under a summer deluge, lightning under her skin and in her veins.

Night on the Fae Court lingered long, or there was some magic at play which seemed to stretch time.

Orbs of light like those in Titania's private rooms filled the dance and banquet hall. Hundreds of Fae—their power like moth wings beating against her flesh—danced and ate, laughed and talked, flirted and politely threatened. Every once in a while there was a mental probe tossed Maeve's way, some Fae or another testing her shields were still in place.

She had lost track of the number of names and their respective faces she had been introduced to. How Rodan knew all their names after so long away, she was unsure, but he introduced each of them as though he had seen them only yesterday. Her face hurt from so much smiling.

"You're holding up that section of wall," Rodan remarked, handing her another of the little silver vials which contained the restorative potion. "One more."

How long do these events tend to last? She asked through their link as she dashed back the little drink.

"Until the Queen wills it," Rodan responded out loud. It would be rude of us to leave, as we are the guests of honor.

Maeve shook her head, then tilted it back to stare at the ornately painted and carved ceiling as the potion did its work. She felt abuzz, but… I wish I were home.

How strange it was, still, to have one. To think of anyplace as home. But that's exactly what the Realms had become to her, long ago and even more so now.

I don't know how you managed banishment for fifty years, she said to him through the bond . I feel as though I'm missing a limb.

Rodan rumbled a laugh, and the sound made things low in her belly tighten. Gods, she wanted to be alone with him. Properly alone. "You learn how to manage, after living as long as I have, but I remember when the bond with the Realms was new. Being away seemed impossible." He wove fingers with hers, squeezing. "But you will return there, and you will cement your link to the planet." Leaning down, Rodan's voice was soft in her ear, the warmth of his breath curling against her sensitive skin and sending shivers down her back. "You belong there."

Maeve turned her face to him, their mouths close but not touching. The Court was very particular about public displays. Her lips seemed to throb as she stared at him so near to her, their breath mingling. "I belong with you."

A throat cleared, and she startled to see Oberon, King Consort to Titania, stood just outside the bubble she and Rodan had made.

His eyes were brown and blue, just like his bondmate, but where her mother had looked upon her with some degree of warmth, here there was nothing but cold calculation.

"King Consort Oberon," Rodan said, hand splayed along Maeve's lower back. "We did not see you. Apologies." He bowed slightly at the waist and, straightening, continued, "This is Maeve Almeida, my bondmate."

"I know who she is," Oberon said, and his voice was rough. It reminded her uncomfortably of Pike. "I would like to know what she and my wife had to discuss for so long earlier."

Maeve glanced around, noticing that though they were standing mostly alone there were a few Fae close enough that their spectacular hearing could pick up on any conversation. None of this was private. She fixed her attention back on Oberon. "I believe Titania wished to understand how we came to bond," she said, the answer bland-sounding even to her ears. "I told her our story."

Rodan's hand slipped from her lower back so that his fingers could twine with hers. She leaned into him, and Oberon scoffed, though he did not look away. "I am told you are a maker."

So that did get out , she mused, thinking of the three handmaidens who had made themselves noticeably scarce ever since she and Rodan had emerged from Titania's chambers. Several of the spectators she could see out of her peripheral vision drifted closer.

"My abilities are new and untested," Maeve hedged. "I did not know that term before I came to the Court."

Oberon made another noise of disgusted dismissal, raising a hand and waving it as though at a persistent fly. "That is why she wished to talk to you, na?ve girl. She was testing you. Surely after this—" he motioned to the ballroom. "Is over, she will have you undertake the same vows as all of us."

All of us? Maeve wondered, sending a thought to Rodan. Is Oberon bound to her the same way as you?

Yes , he said. She would have it no other way.

But Titania had said not a word of such a thing to Maeve. She had not even hinted at it.

Unsure of what to say to the consort, she bowed her head and said, "Forgive me, your majesty?—"

Oberon laughed, and Rodan's grip on her momentarily tightened. "You are fresh, I will grant you," he said, shaking his head. "I do not know why I bothered."

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way through the suddenly talkative crowd.

They watched him go, and Rodan's voice sounded in her mind. That was some sort of test.

To what end? She asked back.

I do not know.

They went back to circulating the room, talking among the nobility and some of Rodan's—he told her he would never call them friends—acquaintances, the talk among them started to edge more and more toward what Maeve's powers were.

It seemed Rodan had succeeded in keeping his own making abilities quiet, but her display in the dressing room had spread like rumors tended to do. No one they spoke to had met a maker before, though everyone had heard of them. It was, Rodan told her bit at a time, the magic of Titania's curse at work. She had stripped all but the rumor of Icarus from the memory of those at the Court. He was like their monster under the bed. A maker, they whispered, was a powerhouse, yes, but at what cost?

They asked her, subtly, if she could truly change the properties of anything to anything else. They asked for demonstrations.

Maeve was in the midst of demurring for the fourth time when a hush came over the room. Rodan's attention, too, was snagged by something beyond her shoulder.

The noise around them was dying down as well, the musicians even stopping their playing, which had been ebbing and flowing for hours without end.

Maeve looked around, and found Titania had entered the dance floor. Not to join the revelry, but to directly confront another Fae woman who looked entirely unfamiliar, and dressed differently than anyone else in the court. Where everywhere Maeve looked there was gauzy, silken fabric in jewel tones, dripping with real gems and precious metals, this woman wore a sensible crimson wool jacket with double-breasted brass buttons down the front. Trousers, boots, and a plain hairstyle of an upswept bun did nothing to deter from the Fae's singular beauty.

"That's Trinity," Rodan said, just for her. "Langdon's bondmate and wife. He must be here, too, but I don't see him yet."

Maeve heard the name and knew it to be familiar, taking her a few moments before she remembered the name of the Fae Rodan had nearly bonded with, many thousands of years previous. The Fae who had sheltered him after the first duel with Sebastian.

She assessed Trinity a little more, finding a tall, willowy creature who shone alabaster pale. The blood red of the fine wool made her stand out intensely among the crowd. She had eyes of green and silver, and her hair was nearly translucent it was so pale white.

As Titania neared, Trinity bowed at the waist, an arm across her chest. "My Queen."

Even her voice was something incredible, like music.

She is High Fae, Rodan said through their bond. Her powers lend more toward healing, but she also possesses extreme charisma. Some would call it a sorcery. She was a prized member of the Court for many centuries.

What happened? she asked back.

More a matter of who, he responded, then greeted aloud, "Langdon!" He stepped away from his huddle with Maeve and extended both arms in welcome. She found a tall, curly-haired, dark-skinned Fae male coming toward them, his posture an echo of Rodan's, and his outfit a match to Trinity, though the red he wore was darker, more the color of wine. Behind him strode someone who looked enough like both of them he had to be their son. "Elias," Rodan stated, just as the first man gripped forearms with him. "It is good to see you all."

Maeve took a second look at Elias. She could not help but remember what the other Fae women had been talking about earlier, when dressing her. Everyone thought Rodan was waiting for Elias.

"We heard you were at the Court, and why," Langdon stated, grinning, his teeth very white against his face. "We all wished to come pay our respects."

"Even Trinity?" Rodan questioned, tone low. "I thought there was an understanding."

Understanding? She inquired, sending the thought to his mind.

Trinity is High Fae, yet she did not seek out Titania's approval before bonding. It caused a stir, and to my knowledge it was mutually agreed upon she not come back unless summoned. She rules with Langdon on their world, Lascia, and hasn't to my knowledge returned to the Court since they founded the place.

Why in the world would she come back now? Maeve asked.

I wonder the same.

"The night has been long and wonderful, my friends," Titania called now, looking out over the assembled Fae who were all watching her and Trinity with barely-disguised interest. "I look forward to seeing you on the morrow."

"And with that, the party is over," Langdon sighed, grinning at her. She could not help but smile a bit in return. "We're staying at our estate. Care to join us?"

"We have rooms in the palace," Rodan said, Fae streaming by their grouping on the way out. Titania and Trinity were still deep in discussion, but their arms were linked, Titania leading the other women toward the dais where the throne lay. "I fear we will insult our host if we seek accommodations elsewhere."

Langdon tilted his head, "Regardless, we would offer you a repast. I believe those two have much to discuss. When my bondmate returns, you can go back to the castle."

Say yes, Maeve asked through the bond. I want to be able to speak to them.

"I think we'll take you up on the offer." Rodan offered her his arm. "My love?"

She took it, stepping close to him and noticing as she did Elias was all eyes for her. He caught her looking and grinned, sending her a wink. "We'll see you there."

Rodan bowed his head, and a moment later Maeve felt a tug low in her navel as he pulled them through the currents of the Court to a moonlit garden outside a massive manor house that looked hewn of pure dark gray granite.

Maeve shivered a little as the cool air hit her, and looked up at the triple moons hugging the bowl of the sky above. The stars were an unfamiliar pattern, and she felt a rush of renewed longing for the Realms, and the little patterns and shapes she had begun to pick out of the night sky there with the help of the citizenry.

"Langdon and Elias are inside, but they're making their way out here." Rodan said, pulling her attention. The gold ornaments in his hair caught the moonlight with a muted sheen. Gold and black, he was adorned in the colors of their house. And as much as she appreciated the beauty of the many thin, complicated braids which had been woven into his inky hair, she ached to run her fingers through it. He smiled as she inspected him, saying, "I brought us out here to give us a few moments."

Maeve slid her hand up the jewel-encrusted tunic he wore, fingers bumping along over the gemstones, and she tilted her face up to his, inviting.

When he kissed her she near forgot how to breathe. It had been half the day since she had last let down her guard even a little, the rules and customs of the Court such that she had been unable to touch, to remind herself of what this was. The bond was open as it had been all day, and in rushed his ardor, tasting of the same-similar desperation she held for him.

"Rodan," she moaned when he broke from her for a moment. "Please…"

She was not sure what she was begging for, but he seemed to have some indication, for he grasped her waist and pulled her toward a gazebo festooned with climbing roses, hiding them from view of the manor and any who may come from it. He pressed her against a central pillar and caught her mouth again, his own breath hitching as their lips touched.

Brushing fingers along the curve of her breast, Maeve arched against him, grasping his shoulders and hauling him closer, their bodies pressing. His grip on her hardened, and teeth nipped her lower lip so she opened for his desperate touch. Tongues tangling, Maeve's heart was roaring, and she wanted him so much. So intensely.

"Soon," Rodan rasped when he broke from her again. His gaze was heavy on her. "When we're back on the Realms…"

She bit her lip, smiling, and he groaned.

"I love when you do that," he said, thumb brushing her mouth, his words low as he pressed stiff against her. "Don't tempt me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Tempt you with what, exactly?"

He leaned down, his breath coiling along her neck and ear, and just as it had in the ballroom, this sent shivers down her spine. "You know exactly what you do to me. I want to have you, no matter who might be watching. I'm desperate for you, Maeve."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and settled against him, pressing a kiss against heated flesh before opening her eyes. Her gaze fell over his shoulder, to a figure closing in. "Someone might have something to say about that."

Rodan moved so they both faced the newcomer at once, though he kept his arm firm around her waist, thumb tracing along the exposed flesh of her torso. "Hello, Elias."

"Father asked me to fetch you. He doesn't think there will be much time."

In the moonlight, the Fae's hair glowed silvery white, a foam of it curling against his sharp cheekbones and along the sides of his neck. His eyes were glimmering like coals in the dark, but Maeve could not make out the color. He smiled at her, exposing pointed canines.

She smiled back. "I've heard talk of you."

"Did you?" He motioned at the path up to the house. "Do tell."

Maeve moved out of the circle of Rodan's arms and, seeming to shock everyone, took Elias's. She had to look up into his eyes, but only just, and his expression turned from shocked to delightedly curious in an instant. She could not help but grin at him. "They say you were the one everyone thought Rodan would bond with."

They all moved toward the house, pebbled gravel crunching under their feet, the scent of wisteria, lilies, and jasmine thick in the air. Maeve kept her arm looped with Elias as he said, "I may have helped spur some of those rumors."

"Oh, did you?" Rodan asked from behind them, tone dry.

"I thought he was only being stubborn," Elias said in a staged whisper, leaning toward Maeve. "He didn't see we were perfect together." His smile brightened. "But I know now."

"Elias has the ability to gauge the magic of others," Rodan explained, taking her free hand as they mounted the wide stairs to the glass and iron doors. "One of his many talents."

"I could feel it in the castle, but as soon as you touched me?" Elias gave a low whistle. "There was no questioning, Rodan made the correct choice if we're looking at power level alone. You're almost as strong as Titania herself, aren't you?"

Maeve shrugged. "If you say so."

Elias laughed and opened the door, disentangling from Maeve to usher her and Rodan inside.

Her slippers clicked on the colorful marble floor, the swirling patterns looking more like a painting then anything naturally formed. The veins glimmered with gold and silver flecks around dark greens, reds, and black. Columns so large she could wrap her arms around half of their width soared to support the three-story ceiling and its glass roof. From what she could see through the moonlight, the glass was colored and patterned in such a way as the whole entry hall would be like being inside a rainbow during the daylight hours.

Massive tapestries hung on the walls, depicting battle scenes and patterns of flowers, vines, and animals. Rodan spoke in her mind, Many of these were woven by Langdon. If you like them, let him know.

They were led off the hall and into a large room with many cushioned chairs and couches, round tables, flowering potted plants and thick carpets. Wood paneling hugged these walls, and they were clustered with paintings. Mid-size and small sculptures in wood, stone, and brass could be found on shelves, among the foliage, and on little tables of their own under lights.

"Who did the sculptures?" Maeve asked aloud, assuming that like the tapestries, they were the result of someone in the house.

"I did," Elias said, smiling again. His was an easy smile, and one that lit his face.

Now they were inside, Maeve could see one of his eyes was a clear sapphire blue, and the other a misty silver. It suited him. "I like them," she said, then pointed to something that looked like a combination of heart and clockwork mechanics. "This one especially."

"That's my favorite, as well," Langdon's voice called from the other end of the room, his expression neutral as he wove through furnishings to get to them. "Lady Maeve, welcome to our family estate. Rodan, welcome back." He stopped near them and gestured. "Shall we sit? Would you like a drink?"

Maeve made a goblet of wine for herself and slid onto a cushioned couch. Rodan perched on the arm, motioning at their hosts. "We can supply our own refreshments. Now what, my friends, has brought all of you here? Especially Trinity. I thought Titania's feelings on the matter were quite clear."

"I did not realize she would share you transmutation gifts," Langdon said, staring at Maeve. "I thought gifts such as those would not be transferable through the bond."

"No, but making is," Rodan said, tilting his cup in salute before taking a drink.

Elias conducted a complicated-looking gesture, fingers twisted oddly, and Maeve felt her ears pop. "I've ensured only those in this room are privy to this conversation," he intoned, expression suddenly serious. "How long have you been a maker, Rodan?"

"All my life, apparently, though Kabira bound my abilities when I was young." Rodan reached down and twined fingers with Maeve. "Bonding with Maeve helped unlock them."

"Extraordinary," Elias marveled. "And she is an incredible psychic, I can tell, though there is something else, isn't there?"

Can we trust them? She asked Rodan through the bond.

Implicitly. I trust them as I do you.

"Yes, I'm more than Fae." She raised her chin. "You can read through touch, can't you?"

Maeve set down her wine and extended her hand.

Elias did not hesitate, stepping forward and slipping off his glove, touching her palm to palm. There was no danger in anything, as she was already bonded. She could sense a rush of electric magic, however, when his skin pressed to hers, and his eyes slid closed.

"You are not wholly Fae," he intoned, and when he opened his eyes they were both milky white, with no iris or pupil. "Gods-blood flows in your veins." His own showed blue under paling skin, which wavered with light like moonlight on water. "You were meant for the throne."

Maeve pulled away, now uncomfortable. Rodan laughed and said, "My beloved does not believe in fate. Elias, I did not know you had prophecy in you."

The younger Fae blinked, his gaze clearing back to the two-toned irises of before. His smile was soft as he slipped the glove back on. "You are Titania's daughter."

Langdon laughed. "Don't be ridiculous."

Maeve closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, then smiled sweetly at her host. "Would that be a problem?"

Langdon glanced at Rodan, still with that laughing smile, and then it began to fade. "You can't be serious."

"By gods, she's our sworn enemy," Elias cried. "We've?—"

Both of the other Fae men shushed him, and Rodan's fingers convulsed around Maeve's.

How many secrets are you hiding from me, lover? She asked through the bond, which she kept a careful grasp on. Her hackles were up as she suddenly became the focus of all of those in the room.

I have lived long, beloved, his voice said back, soothing. Tapping into a part of her that melted for him. Forgive me, there are many secrets I carry, overall. It will take years to divulge them all, but I will in the fullness of time.

Maeve sighed. I do not need to know all your secrets, but perhaps the ones pertaining to myself and my parentage can be prioritized? She still held his hand, and now gripped it tighter. "I am the daughter of a god, as well as the one you call High Queen. She carried me in secret, and left me on Earth to be raised."

"You were raised on Earth?" Elias echoed, running hands through his hair. "Oh. Oh, no."

Langdon swore, long and colorful, then went for the bar. He grabbed two bottles, passing one to his son on the way back. They both took a long swallow from the neck, looking so alike Maeve would have found it comical under different circumstances.

Rodan spoke aloud at last. "Trust me, my friends, I made the right choice. Maeve is no Titania."

She felt as though there were a rushing current beneath her skin, and it began to glow. Letting go of Rodan's hand, she summoned a small ball of flame, holding it between her hands and letting the cool rush of the energy soothe her. There was something about tapping into her father's gifts in particular which made her feel centered, only now she knew how dangerous this fire was.

It reflected in the eyes of all those around her. Watching.

"My father has many names, but you may know him best by the name Rodan did: Ankou."

"Of all the gods," Elias whispered. "The one of the dead? Who shepherds souls?" His gaze flicked to Rodan. "You're sure?"

"I journeyed into death's realm to retrieve Maeve, and heard the words from the god himself. She is his."

Still holding the ball of fire, Maeve let it reduce until several points floated over her fingertips like a candelabra.

"It's beautiful," Langdon said, watching the flicker. "And yet, Rodan, how could you? How can you hold all these pieces in your heart at once?"

Maeve frowned, snuffing out the fire before looking to her love. "What does he speak of?"

Rodan closed his eyes for a moment, and when he spoke he seemed to be gazing far in the distance, or into the past. "I have lived long, Maeve, and sworn many things in that time. One was that… I can be no ally to Titania. Not wholly."

She felt chills run down her back, thinking of what he had sworn to her mother earlier in the evening. "But you said?—"

"She indicated she could not read me, and I took a chance on half-truth, for I still cannot fully lie to her. She believed it, so now, my friends, we know she is not omnipotent." Rodan stood and began to pace, and she found herself oddly entranced with the ornaments in his hair, and the complexity in the pattern on his sleeveless tunic.

It had been most bizarre at first, seeing his arms so exposed, but she found she liked it. He had golden, filigree cuffs at his wrists, gold ornamentations in his ears and crawling up his thighs. His pants also looked painted on, and that was a distraction in and of itself, especially when he was pacing away from her.

Damn it I need to get a hold of myself , she internally chided.

But it had only been a few days. Mostly scattered hours where they had been able to wholly come together. It was so new, and her body so unaccustomed, yet craving him endlessly. Rodan was as potent as any drug she had taken a liking for.

"We have seen too much out of the High Queen," Rodan explained at last, coming to a stop before Maeve. "If anyone had committed the atrocities she had?—"

She rose, standing toe to toe with him. Interrupted with, "Like our own atrocities?"

There was a flinch around his eyes, but he stood firm. "She has done monumentally worse."

"I erased him," Maeve said, eyes narrowing. "No part of him survived."

"Sekou deserved it," Rodan insisted, and there was no room for argument in that voice.

"And who are we to determine that?"

"What the hell are they talking about?" Elias asked, words slurring.

"Shut up," Langdon snapped.

Maeve pressed, "We are not infallible. What has she done? What is so irredeemable?"

Rodan stared at her for the space of a few heartbeats, and the light was flaring under his flesh as well, echoing hers. Catching in the golden ornaments adorned to his body.

"Genocide."