22. Jen

22

Jen

T he Earth was ablaze.

Fire tore through buildings, ones which touched the sky, farms, suburban houses. It raged through forests and field. It consumed everything in its wake and then, on its heels, nothing but shadow, like a tsunami. A wall of it, solid and impenetrable, seeping through cracks and into world after world after world…

Jen woke with a start, then screamed when she noticed the stranger leaning over her. She scrambled away, the book that had fallen on her chest as she went to sleep thunking to the floor. "What the hell!" she shouted.

And then she really took in the person before her, the— Fae , her mind whispered, and her pulse skyrocketed. But this was not the Fae Rodan had described, the father who had tortured him for years. This one seemed, felt, younger.

"My apologies," he said, spreading his hands as though to show he was harmless. Even though they both knew he was not. "I am Elias. Rodan and your Queen Maeve know I'm to arrive. They should be here soon."

Jen relaxed a little, just as the door to the library burst open and Troy flung themselves into the room, bow drawn and arrow pointed as they snarled, "Get away from her."

Elias held up his hands and backed away from where Jen had crashed on a long reading couch. He stopped only when he was in the opposite corner, sliding gloved hands into his pockets. "I mean no harm, elf. I was simply curious about the dream she was having."

"I'm fine, Troy, put the arrow away. You shouldn't have those inside anyway."

They scoffed but lowered the weapon, releasing the tension in the bowstring. "Who are you?" they demanded.

"Elias," the Fae and Jen said at the same time. She glanced at him and he gave a bow of the head, smiling and continuing, "I am sired of Langdon and Trinity, lifelong friends of Rodan. I have known him all my life. We were the ones who saved him, after Sebastian put that sword through his chest."

Troy moved to Jen's side, looking fully relaxed at this point though she could see they were still on high alert. "Why are you here?" they asked, no less challenge in their voice.

Jen grasped one of their hands and they helped her to stand. She was still shaking off the dregs of the dream vision, but it all came back into sharp memory when Elias said, "I'm here because we're going to Earth. I've been having sendings, as have many of the Ayo on our home planet. Most sensitive beings are." He gave Jen a pointed look.

She swallowed hard. "Sensitive beings?"

"Something is happening, and it is rippling through the worlds. A warning, now, but the event is imminent. Does that not feel true?" Elias took a step toward them and Troy bared their teeth, halting his progress. He raised his hands again. "I truly mean no harm, and I would prefer not to shout across the room."

Jen glanced at the still-open door Troy had come through. The castle was populated, and there was no telling who would come by. Even their allies—she hated to think this way, but she did not truly know these people, and they had some of them been living well under Sebastian's reign.

"He's right," she said.

Troy looked about to argue, but Jen walked away, forcing them to trail her as they so often did while she closed the door and engaged the lock. Every door she had come across in this castle had them, for which she was grateful. There had been a time when she and Troy had met in the hall and, unable to stop themselves, had ended up in a linen closet.

The thought brought a flush to her face, but she shook her head and came back to the seating area, motioning for Elias to take one of the chairs. "My name is Jennifer—or Jen—Casper. I'm Maeve's representative on Earth. This is Troy, they're one of her officers."

Troy blinked, but did not argue, standing while Jen took the couch again, picking up the book that had fallen to the ground. It was a romance, and she hid the cover before either of them could read it. The title was salacious enough on its own.

"You've been having the visions too," Elias said, sliding into a chair with the easy grace all Fae she had met seemed to be capable of. "With your link to Earth, that is little surprise, especially with your abilities."

Jen paused, then asked carefully, "What abilities?"

Elias looked a little unsure for a moment, glancing at Troy before he looked to her. "One of my Fae gifts is I can gauge another's power and ability. Not so clearly with these on," he lifted hands clad in soft linen gloves of dark blue. "But enough to know you have some magic of your own, that you're a seer."

She made the connection immediately. "You touched me while I slept?"

Troy let out a snarling sort of sound, teeth bared again.

"Cut that out," she chided, then turned her attention back to the Fae. "That was not very smart. If you'd been touching me when Troy got in here, you'd have an arrow in you."

"Through your throat," Troy clarified, words guttural. "You will ask, next time."

Elias bowed his head, light curly hair shading his eyes. "You have my most humble apologies. When I first arrived it—I have never been to the Realms, to visit Rodan. I had heard from him this planet was living, like the Court, but I have spent barely any time there, and this?" He spread his hands, looking around the massive library with its tall windows letting in mid-afternoon sun. "This is splendid. The planet hums. Do you feel it?" he asked Jen. "I got a little carried away. I am very sorry for my infraction."

She nodded to him, accepting the explanation. Troy stayed silent and still, not taking their gaze from the Fae, and she was similarly silent as she chewed on her next words. This felt important. "When are Maeve and Rodan returning?"

He spread his hands again. "That is not something I am privy to, unfortunately. I left before them, and I only just arrived. But time flows strangely between the worlds, and how a Fae travels the pathways varies from one to the next. Their method may be faster. I do not know."

Jen cast about for something to soothe the parched just-woke feeling in her throat, and saw a carafe of water she swore had not been there a moment ago. Thirst drove her to pour herself some in a silver goblet, and she drank before offering some to their guest. "I'm afraid our supplies are minimal at the moment," she said by way of apology.

Elias shook his head. "I am fine, but thank you. I will wait for Maeve and Rodan, with you, or here, or however you like. I will bow to your instruction, as Maeve's representative." He tilted his head again. "May I ask, what is that mark upon you? It looks—very interesting. Like liquid opal."

Jen rubbed her forehead where she knew the spot to be. "That's, uh, private. Sorry."

Troy smiled. They held their bow across their lap, arrows all in the quiver across their back. "She is gods-marked."

Jen smacked them with the back of her hand, and they finally looked at her. "The hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.

They tucked some of her hair back and said simply, "It is something I am proud to say. You should be, too."

She blinked at Troy, then glanced at Elias. "Are you doing something to them?"

Elias shifted. "Yes and no. It is one of my other gifts, one might say, but it is passive."

"What are you doing?" she asked, and her voice held an edge of warning.

"My body sensed a threat, and is releasing pheromones that seem to have a deeper effect on our elven friend here than they do on most forms of life. It's supposed to mildly influence feeling toward euphoria, while increasing the likelihood of truth-telling."

Troy fumbled—actually fumbled—with grasping an arrow, but Jen put a hand on them. "Hey," she gripped them tight. "Stop. It's okay. He's a friend of Rodan's, and this was accidental." No need for bloodshed, she did not say out loud. They did not have any more activated potions. Those only lasted about a day before they went bad, but?—

Jen remembered smelling the potion when she took a draught after their confrontation with the Nyx. She had sensed the properties in it and realized, there was something wrong. Maybe if she could find out what it was, she could increase the potency and longevity.

Who am I kidding? She thought not for the first time. I'm not anyone who can do something like that. Not really.

She was just fooling herself.

Troy made a pained sound, and she realized she had dug her nails into their arm. She released them with a rushed apology. "I'm so sorry, lover, I?—"

"You were lost to the past, and your demons," they said, so forthright about it she flushed. "There is no need to be ashamed. I can take a little of your claws."

Jen , a familiar voice sounded in her mind, and she jerked, looking around. It's Maeve. I'm back. Where are you?

She was wholly unsure if she was supposed to respond out loud or just, somehow, think at the direction of the voice? She opted for both. "In the library."

"What?" Elias asked.

"I'm speaking with Maeve," she said quickly. "Hold on?—"

You don't need to speak out loud, I'm listening in on your thoughts. Rodan asks, which one? He says there are several in the castle.

If you can hear my thoughts can't you tell which way I'm pointed? She groused back, uncomfortable with anyone in her mind, even her best friend.

Maeve seemed to sense that, for the presence of her withdrew. A moment later, however, and she and Rodan were standing by the fireplace, the latter grinning at Elias and coming toward him, arms outstretched. "I was not sure you would come!"

"Of course I came," Elias said, standing to embrace the other Fae.

Jen went to Maeve. "Hey. Troy seems to be drugged. Apparently Elias is a walking sedative."

"Only when threatened," he called.

Maeve frowned at the newcomer. "You were in danger?"

"Troy may have pointed an arrow at him," Jen admitted, looking her friend up and down. "You seem okay. How was it?"

She took a deep breath and blew it out, shaking her head. "I'll tell you everything, soon, but first—we came back because Elias and others are said to be having visions. Telling's of Earth."

"Yes," Jen breathed. "Me, too. High Priestess Thea is here with others of her caste, and they're all having the same."

Maeve frowned at her. "That's not the first time—are you sensing powers? Since you've been here?"

She nodded, unable to put it to words. How vital the air felt, and how her intuition, so long set on a mental shelf, had become one of her greatest assets. "Is that okay?"

Her friend grinned at her. "That's excellent." She clasped Jen's hands, giving a soft squeeze. "We'll train, and soon, but?—"

"I understand," Jen rushed to say. "We're all really busy. You've been gone two days."

"Two?" Maeve echoed. "That's not so bad, then. I did not miss my own coronation."

Grinning back at last, Jen could sense a rightness to this moment. To all of them in this room, no matter Troy was a bit off-kilter. "A good thing, too. The main group wanted to crown me in your absence, but when I told them no, they started pestering me like nothing. Someone has to sit in, if not you then who? We cannot crown an empty throne." Her tone turned mocking as she recalled some of the arguments slung her way.

"Why wouldn't you, though?" Maeve asked, a tilt to her head.

"Not you, too," Jen grumbled, pulling her hands away and then gesturing around them. "This is just so obviously yours, Maeve. I can't claim it, even temporarily. It's wrong." She paced to the wall of books nearest the fireplace—still a good distance away from it, to prevent any stray embers from doing their worst—and ran her fingers along the buttery soft leather spines. Titles flew past, until she found the one she had seen before, pulling it free. "I found a copy of this one in our rooms."

Extending the book to Maeve, her friend took it. "A History of the Empire, Thirtieth Volume?" She lifted her brows. "Honestly, Jen, I'm too tired for?—"

Jen cut her off by snatching the book back and flipping to near the ending. "Look here," she said, stabbing the page.

The heading was in bold type, several sizes larger than the body text. Maeve Almeida, Challenger to the Throne .

"That's not right," Maeve said. "I never formally challenged…" she drifted off as her gaze caught on the first sentences and moved rapidly down. "How could this be in print?"

"The castle is magic," Jen said. "It's got a mind of its own, I think, and that includes creating books. They're all written in a similar narrative voice—don't look at me like that, what else would I have done while you were gone? My phone died the second day I was here. Oh!" She bounced a bit on her heels. "Do you think we could stop somewhere to get a solar charger while we're on Earth? Just a thought."

Maeve snorted. "Miss your music that much?"

"Girl, yes." She waved a hand, dismissive. "Anyway, the point is the castle knew you were a challenger, it recognizes you , not me. I think it—I think it likes me a little bit, but as an extension of you. Not to supplant, but to aid you." She was twisting her hands together, fingers tangling. "Does that make sense?"

Maeve handed the book, open to her chapter, to Rodan who had come up behind them. His expression severe as he flipped through several pages quickly, he then strode to the bookshelf Jen had gotten it from. "It's been decades since the castle wrote a book," he said. "Centuries, maybe."

"So this was written by the castle?" Jen wanted to confirm.

"Yes," Rodan said, tone absent as he pulled several more volumes from the shelves. "It seems it has been busy." He set the small stack on one of the tables in the reading area. Another volume of the histories, the twenty-ninth, a slender black volume with silver script that simply read The Nyx , and an omnibus on top with the title, A Modern Telling of the Four Brothers.

"The castle does have a sentience of a sort," he continued. "I made it entirely with my magic, and as such it was imbued not just with its own, but the ability to generate more. It has stood here more than a thousand years, and even I may not know all the rooms and levels it contains."

"A true making," Elias said, coming up to their huddle. Only Troy remained behind, lolling on the couch, staring at the firelight through their fingers. "That sword you were struck with, by the usurper, must have been made by your father. My mother and I have never felt something so malevolent. It is like he made something pure evil."

Rodan's expression darkened.

Elias clasped him on the shoulder. "Not you, my friend. You made an entire castle. One that writes its own books, creates its own rooms. Of course your making would be one that lives and breathes its own will."

That brought a smile to Rodan's lips, and he cast the other Fae a grateful look.

The fire blazed brighter, as though the structure were in agreement.

Jen glanced at Troy, who was humming some melody and reaching for a potted fern. She reached over the couch to pinch them, and they barely reacted. "Careful," she hissed.

"We all in this room know them for what they are," Rodan said gently. "We do not need to pretend. They can have a moment with one of their plants."

Troy was on their knees before it now, crooning as the thing lifted points of its many leaves toward them. "It's so lonely."

Jen cast everyone a glare, as though daring them to make fun. No one did. "So you're all here, and back, because Elias and other creatures—what are they? You're all having visions."

"Ayo, the native species of my home planet," Elias responded. "Mother and I go amongst them, to tend to the sick and injured, and we have heard them speak of the dreams many times. It has been increasing in severity and frequency the last few days."

Jen nodded. It had been the same for her. Especially since Maeve had won the trials, and named the new High Queen. She told them so. "I meant to tell you sooner, but at first I just thought it was a recurring nightmare. I didn't realize it was anything more until recently."

"She smells of smoke when she wakes," Troy said in a singsong voice, petting the fern which had grown significantly since she last looked. "And of death."

Jen shuddered. This was news to her.

"Earth is a Nexus," Rodan mused, pacing a little between the shelves and their grouping. "Titania mentioned it when she was alone with Maeve."

"What is a Nexus?" she asked now, watching her bondmate with some unease on her face. "That seemed to concern you before."

"Consider the pathways," he said. "The interconnectedness of the worlds, one into the next. A nexus is where all pathways converge. It creates a heaviness to the ways, making it easier to get to that particular spot. These places are few and far between, but events that happen there? Especially ones of a major magical nature—they ripple across the worlds."

Jen thought of the cracks she had seen in her dream, spiderwebbing out from Earth and infecting every home and planet connected to it.

She described it, and Elias nodded. "I have seen the same."

"That means the Realms," Rodan said. "If Earth experiences an event of great enough magnitude, it will ripple toward us."

Jen shivered. "Why would Titania tell you this?"

"Because she was trying to dissuade me from returning," Maeve said. "She wants me to take the throne of the Court, but I said no. I will rule the Realms, not an empire."

Rodan gazed at her with a look so raw Jen had to glance away. Troy was now on the floor, the fern leaves covering their face as they snored in an oddly musical way. She sighed, watching them as she spoke. "So we're all going to Earth?"

"Not all," Maeve said. "Some will remain behind to rule in my stead, but we need to hold the coronation first."

"Thank the gods," Jen murmured. She could still remember the intensity of those in the meeting hall when it had been floated that she take the crown. There was a sort of religious zeal amongst those who called loudest for her to stand in proxy. It frightened her. "Better you than me."