21

Mor Trisencor and the Fishy Smell

Two Hours Ago

The timing was the least suspicious thing about Dranian's phone call. It wasn't exactly the fairy's tone—more like a deep sense of panic seeping through his conversation. Mor should have gone back to bed, but he sat in his office, tapping a pencil against the top of the desk. Of all the fairies, Dranian was the last one Mor wanted to be feeling panic .

Mor had learned the hard way that dealing with things alone only made matters worse. And Cress hadn't let him forget it. Every once in a while, Cress made sure to mention, "that time he saved Mor from the humiliation of being defeated by his old foe," even though "that time" was not that long ago.

But now, Dranian was hiding something. And truthfully, Mor couldn't take it.

First Lily, now Dranian?

And even him.

Had the entire High Court turned into a band of teenage gossip queenes?

A yawn stole him from his thoughts. Violet came in, dragging her feet over the floor in his/Kate's fluffy slippers. She plunked into Jase's desk chair. "Why are you still up?" The human looked half asleep as she waited for an answer. He could have asked her why she was still here. It was almost the morning hours, and she was still working instead of sleeping at home in her comfortable bed.

Mor chose his words carefully. "I think…" He adjusted himself in his seat and reassessed how to ask. "Do you think it's possible for everyone in a close-knit group to be hiding something from each other?"

Violet blinked as though she didn't register what he'd said, and he huffed.

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" he accused in a dull voice. "Go home, Violet. You're the one always preaching that you need your beauty sleep—"

"You are all hiding something," she said. "It's super obvious."

Mor frowned. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "I'm not hiding anything."

Violet was too pretty when she smiled. It was both adorable and annoying.

"Yes, you are, Mor. You're hiding something. Lily is hiding something. Dranian is hiding something. The only one not hiding something around here is Cress, and that's because he's a blabber mouth—"

"What is Dranian hiding? Wait—" Mor shook his head. "—what is Lily hiding? Do you know?!"

Violet shrugged. "I have no idea." She reached over and dragged her journal from the shelf. "But the reason you all haven't caught on to each other yet is probably because you're each focussed on the thing you're hiding."

Mor blinked. "Are you…" He studied her journal, then her. "… reporting on us?"

Violet laughed like he was being absurd. She quickly slapped the journal shut and slid it back onto the shelf where it belonged. But Mor wasn't convinced. When she noticed his unbelieving face, Violet stretched her arms and completely faked another yawn.

"You're right, I should head home and go to bed." She patted a hand over her not-really-yawning mouth. "I'll see you in the morning." Violet Miller transformed into her former escape-artist-self as she left the room just as quickly as she'd arrived.

Mor sighed began tapping the pencil again.

"Oh, and if you want a really fast, really easy way to solve this problem—" Violet stuck her head back into the office, making Mor jump. "—then just get everyone together and oust them all at once. That'll get everyone talking." She flashed another pretty smile and disappeared again.

Mor tossed the pencil down. He felt like cleaning, even though the cathedral was spotless. He felt like doing something .

"Oh—" Mor leapt out of his chair when Violet popped back this time, his hand flying to his pounding faeborn heart. "—but go easy on Lily. I think she has more than one secret." Violet snorted a laugh.

"Leave or stay, Violet. Pick one," Mor said calmly through his teeth. His nerves couldn't take it.

Violet lifted a hand in apology and took off down the hall, her slippers slapping the hardwood the whole way.

Mor's face changed and he leapt for the doorway. "Wait!" he whispered after her in his low voice. He wasn't sure if everyone had gone home, or if Remi or Jase had fallen asleep on the furniture in the living space. Violet was already halfway down the emerald carpet, but he called after her anyway: "Queensbane, what do you mean about Lily hiding more than one thing? Violet? Violet?" He cleared his throat and tried again, " Violet ?"

Violet waved back at him as she slipped out of sight, and Mor exhaled. He turned back and eyed her journal on the shelf. She wouldn't be offended if he flipped through it a little, would she?

As outrageous as Violet's idea was, Mor had to admit, it would probably work. If he dragged his brothers and their humans together, they could have all this sorted out in one evening. Shayne would have to come home, but it would be worth it to have everything set right. Maybe he could get Cress to plan a party.

Mor shook the last idea from his mind. If he brought Cress in on this plan, Cress would probably secretly poison a batch of cherry turnovers, make everyone eat them, and then only give the antidote to whoever confessed all their secrets.

Still.

Mor walked around his desk and lifted his jean jacket from the back of the chair. The first order of business was to deal with Dranian. The fairy wouldn't get a wink of restful sleep while tangled with a dreamslipper. Perhaps Mor could dive into his dream-memories and find a way to remedy the problem.

Mor arrived inside Dranian's apartment to find a smell he didn't expect covering the couch, left in small spaces around the kitchen, and all over the coffee machine. Mor sniffed the coffee filters, certain he had to be wrong about what his faeborn gut was saying. It all carried the smell of a familiar soul. Something like… He laughed at the absurd thought—then he sneezed. And he winced.

There also seemed to be traces of a wet human realm animal everywhere .

Mor headed through the rest of Dranian's empty home, his mouth tugging down at the corners. Every step left him with a stronger indication that a struggle had taken place.

Queensbane, where was the auburn-haired fairy?

Mor went into the spare bedroom and gasped, overwhelmed by a very specific fox scent that had no business being there. Unease muddled his senses, a string of warnings going off in his mind. He went into Dranian's bedroom next, jumping in surprise to find an animal inside. The creature began to bark. Past it, Mor saw neatly spread bedsheets and a clean duvet. Like it hadn't been touched in a while.

The animal sprang from the bedroom and raced into the living space. Mor followed it in question, and as soon as he came around the couch, his heart seized.

Light speckles of purple fairy blood covered the floor.

"What in the faeborn-cursed human realm happened to you, Dranian?" he asked the empty apartment as he raced back out, into the hall, and down the stairs. He had his phone to his ear, ready to call Cress as he flung the entrance doors open, but he felt something move overhead. High in the sky and mixed in with the clouds. He pushed out of the apartment building and looked up.

The clouds were strange. They weren't rain clouds, but they carried gossip of shadowy mischief. Of nearby magic and mayhem. A flash of lightning erupted across the sky, and Mor nearly dropped his phone. It rang and rang for Cress, but Mor forgot about it as he picked up a thin string of scent wrapped into the wind. He followed it, clicking off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket.

Why were there traces of Shadow Fairies this far out of town?

Why did he smell a nine tailed fox in Dranian's apartment?

Where was his brother?

Mor jumped into the air and searched high and far. He scoured building tops, alleys, and the nearest park.

He found him. Beneath the eyes of the sky deities, Mor found Dranian.

Mor dropped behind a tree, his faeborn fairy blood running cold at the sight of Dranian on his knees, surrounded by the Shadow Army Mor was never supposed to have to deal with again. But mostly, what curled Mor's insides was a face he knew—one that still turned up in bad dreams on cold evenings. The face of Prince Reval; the fairy who had destroyed so much of Mor's life.

High Prince Reval stood over Dranian with a look in his eyes Mor hated to recognize; the look of a fox about to kill.

Mor gripped the tree, ripping off a handful of bark by accident. His mind waged war. Half his heart screamed at him to charge in and save his brother. The other half warned that if he did, Violet would be the one to pay the price, like before. Reval would not let anyone Mor cared about live if he presented himself now.

He padded his pocket for his phone again, but Prince Reval's sweet, cold voice made Mor slow his movements. "What is the relationship between you and my son, exactly? You dwell together, but do you like or hate each other? Because this will go very poorly for you if he does not show up to save you."

Mor's gaze shot to Dranian .

Dwell? Luc and Dranian were… dwelling ? Mor looked off as he thought of the potent fox scent in the apartment's spare room. Had Luc been holding Dranian hostage all this time? Threatening him to keep him quiet? Tormenting him day and night?

Mor would kill Luc. It was settled.

"He will not come for me. Your trap is in vain," Dranian murmured in reply.

Mor reached to his back pockets for his fairsabers. No, Luc would not come. Only Mor could save Dranian now. If Reval thought holding Dranian hostage would sway Luc, he did not know his own son.

A few more curses and threats were exchanged as Mor swept around the trunk of the tree. Shadows began striking Dranian's shoulders with their fairsaber hilts, and Dranian shook, his blinking turning rapid. Mor's chest tightened as he sensed the fairy's panic beginning to take over. He broke into a run—and skidded to a halt, swinging himself around another tree.

His eyes were wide, his faeborn heart hammering. He could have sworn he just saw…

Luc .

Mor peered around the tree. Shadow Fairies sniffed the air, looking around. He ducked in further to hide when they looked in his direction.

"It was more like the other way around, actually."

The Shadows moved out of the way, revealing a wild-eyed fairy with metallic-red hair and heart shaped lips, and bringing forth more memories than Mor wished to keep.

Luc began mouthing off to his father, and Mor thought he was dreaming. What was Luc doing here? Why did none of this make sense, and for the love of the sky deities, did Luc want to die? It was like being back in that clearing all over again when Reval Zelsor had stabbed his own son through the chest and Luc had risen from the dead while Mor watched from the thornbush. Only this time, Luc seemed ready for it. Like he knew it was coming and didn't care.

"I'm here now," Luc said, "so let the broken North Fairy be on his way before you awaken the wrath of his brothers."

His brothers. Mor came back to his senses and yanked out his phone. The phone rang a few times after he dialed. Cress still didn't answer, so Mor left a message.

"There's trouble. I'm at the park by…"

Mor choked as Reval sliced his palm and slapped his blood onto a lock binding Dranian's wrists.

"By…" Mor tried again, but his ear tilted to the Army and he went quiet, desperate to hear what was happening.

"If you want to stop me, perhaps you should stand in my way," Prince Reval said to Luc. It was an absurd suggestion. One that Mor thought Luc couldn't possibly even consider, except… Except that Luc shouldn't have come here at all. And he did.

Reval raised his fairsaber blade high over Dranian's neck, and Mor dropped his phone. He was three paces closer when Luc swept in and slashed Reval's blade aside. Mor blinked as Luc glanced back at Dranian and muttered something, then he turned back to Prince Reval.

"You were right about me. I planned to betray you once I was of age," he said, and Mor slapped a hand over his thundering chest. "We're less than a year away from our appointment on the mountain, aren't we? Fight me, Father," he said. "Let's see who's the more cunning fox."

"I have a better idea. How about some sport?" the Dark Prince countered.

"Stop deflecting. It makes me think you're afraid of me," Luc stated, crouching and preparing to charge his father—something Mor never thought he'd see in his faeborn lifetime.

But Reval ignored him. "What do the humans call it here again? A goalie ? I'll try to kill him while he sits there. Block me, if you can. He takes the punishment for whatever you can't stop."

Mor's stomach dropped and he strode toward the Army after all, every apology he knew whispered in the wind, hoping this plea for forgiveness would find its way to Violet.

"How about a trade first?" Mor called, grabbing the attention of Prince Reval.

As soon as he said it, Mor knew the High Prince of the Dark Corner would recognize him as the village boy who had destroyed his reputation. From the corner of his eye, Mor saw Luc's head snap in his direction. He felt the fox's eyes burrowing into him. He felt Dranian looking at him, too. He felt the stares of the whole division he had attacked and abandoned piercing his fairy flesh where he stood.

But Mor tossed his fairsabers into the grass. "This is a game for Shadow Fairies," he said. Prince Reval's face flickered with recognition, then he glared. "Let's keep it between Shadows," Mor finished.

Luc looked like he'd been slapped. Then he looked furious, accusation on his twisting lips as he turned to face Mor, a question burning from his being in the manner of, "What in the name of the sky deities are you doing here?"

Of the two foxes, Luc's glare was perhaps worse.

Popping filled the air, and Mor was apprehended. He was torn into an airslip and appeared at Dranian's side. The backs of his legs were kicked, and he kneeled before the great foxes who ruled the armies of the Dark Corner of Ever. Luc did not take his glare off Mor.

"Mor…" Dranian rasped. The auburn-haired fairy looked dreadful. Mor wasn't sure if he could perform a rescue with Dranian in such condition, but he had to try. And he knew he couldn't do it alone.

"It's alright, Dranian, there's no need to panic. I'm here," Mor whispered. He finally met Luc's eyes as his arms were yanked forward and a metal bloodlock was forced onto his wrists. Luc showed no signs of understanding. His terrible gaze hadn't left Mor for a single second; his rosy lips had not moved from their frown.

Mor looked back at the Dark Prince who had once tried to steal his only good memories in hopes of creating eternal bad ones. "I've traded myself, now release him. He's injured." Mor nodded to Dranian, who shook his head in protest. "Let's deal with this like Shadows."

Prince Reval's lip curled. "I cannot believe my fox eyes," he said. "I deny your request for a trade, Trisencor. I deny your right to live, too."

An arrow spiralled from the Army, and Mor stiffened.

A black fairsaber sliced it in half a mere second before it would have impaled Mor's face. He swallowed, his eyes following the length of the black blade to Luc who held it. At Luc's wrist, Mor noticed a twist of branches with two white blossoms. He'd seen one of those before—when Prince Reval had given a disobedient fairy three days to live.

Luc finally stopped glaring at him. The fox took in a deep, long breath and let it out through his nose. He turned slowly to face Prince Reval, his jaw flexing with the motion.

"Game on," he said to his father.

Prince Reval sneered as he tied back his hair with a ribbon. "Since you now have an extra fairy, I shall have one, too." He waved a Shadow forward who raised a glistening pearl bow and a sheath of silver arrows likely coated in cold iron. Prince Reval placed his ruby on his tongue.

Mor watched Luc draw his own bead from his pocket. The young fox looked at it long and hard, not revealing a thing going through his cunning head. And then he ate it.

The Shadow bowman loaded a fresh arrow, aiming it for Mor's heart. Mor took in a breath and held it, relieved the Shadows weren't aiming for Dranian anymore. They'd be fools to target Dranian with a black-marked Shadow Fairy present.

Prince Reval raised his fairsabers, eyeing Luc as he plotted his first blow. "Obviously, you can't save yourself and them—" Reval's words lurched to a halt when the bowman released the arrow, and Luc…

Luc twisted around in front of Mor just in time to take it.

The metal arrow broke through the fox's back and came out his chest, stopping an inch from Mor's heart. Luc's face warped, his jaw setting, his lashes fluttering. "Are you ready, Trisencor?" he bit out.

Mor didn't know how to reply. He looked over at the bloodlock on Dranian's wrists. On his own wrists. Up at Luc again.

Luc spun, slashing with his left fairsaber and nearly catching Reval at the throat. The Prince tipped back to avoid the swing, and came up with one of his own. Luc's hand flashed out and grabbed the blade midair. Purple blood oozed between his fingers and sprinkled the grass—Reval's eyes widened.

Luc swung at Reval, forcing him back another step. The bowman quickly loaded another arrow as Luc dropped his grip on Reval's blade. The foxes exchanged a series of swings and misses too fast for most fairy eyes to behold. Luc marched after his father and raised his saber, but he didn't stab at Prince Reval—his blade went through the bowman .

The bowman gasped as Luc tore his blade back out, sending the quiver to the ground and a dozen cold iron arrows rolling through the grass.

"Take his place!" Reval barked at the Shadows. Two new war fae lifted bows and stepped into line, drawing arrows and taking aim.

Luc vanished. Shadow Fairies turned in all directions to give chase, looking up at the sky. But he reappeared facing Mor and Dranian as the bowmen released their arrows.

Arrows speared into him—one into his lower back, one through his shoulder. Luc buckled forward, barely catching himself on a knee. He slapped his hands together, smearing around his purple fairy blood. Mor blinked as the fox smacked his hands down on Mor's and Dranian's bloodlocks.

Luc cast Mor one last glare and rasped, "No need to thank me. We're enemies to the end, right?"

Mor wasn't sure if Luc was speaking to him or Dranian.

It didn't matter. The second the locks fell, Mor took the opportunity and grabbed Dranian, ripping him into the air. Dranian dripped blood, colours, and sweat into the gale. In the rush, Mor was vaguely aware of Luc below, shifting into the wind and grappling the ankles of any fairy who tried to follow them. Through the air threads, Mor escaped to the sight of Luc taking hit after hit. After hit.

After hit.

Three arrows impaled his body.