Chapter 21

 

 

I ENDED UP crashing on the sofa in my stone fortress quarters so I wouldn’t have to waste any time getting back here to turn the screws on Bryna. I didn’t particularly want to sleep, but I was going to turn into a stumbling mess if I didn’t get at least a couple of hours of shut-eye. The door to the bedroom was closed, and as far as I could tell, Nicole didn’t even know I’d come in.

Early the next morning, before I went into the bathroom for a speed shower, I called fortress food service for breakfast delivery and charged it to Nicole. I wasn’t a resident of the fortress, so I didn’t have the right to many of the services. I thought the person on the other end might push back, but word of Nicole’s presence must have spread. Then I had to go into the bedroom for a clean shirt. My sister was curled up on her side under the covers, facing away from me.

“Nicole?” I whispered.

I had the sense that she was awake, but she didn’t respond, so I let her be.

The food arrived right as I finished dressing, but it wasn’t for me—I’d never been much of a breakfast person, and I’d grabbed a sandwich from Oliver’s fridge before I went to sleep. I was still a little bitter I’d missed out on the fancy Duergar court dinner, after all the time and effort that had gone into getting me prettied up. I left half of the breakfast food in the fridge for my sister.

The other half I put on a plate. Then I drew my sword. I nicked the edge of my left palm on the blade and let a bead of blood grow and drip onto the metal near the grip. My broadsword vibrated in my hands as my blood connected with the magic imbued in the spellblade. I waved the sword over the food and chanted in a whisper, and violet flames of magic licked out from the metal and over the plate, coiling down into the food and disappearing, like watching steam in reverse.

I left a note for Nicole, letting her know who to call on the apartment phone if she needed anything, and that I’d be back later to check in with her. There was no danger in letting her use the phone—calls couldn’t be made into the Earthly realm, or even beyond the fortress.

When I set out toward the fortress jail with the plate in hand, it was still early, but Stone Order business was getting into high gear. Pages walked the hallways with their tablets, and various other New Gargs were already engaged in their tasks for the day.

I rounded a corner and nearly rammed into Maxen.

I couldn’t help my surprise. “You’re back?”

He passed a hand over his eyes. “There wasn’t much more to do on a diplomatic visit after Periclase’s official appeal to Oberon,” he said. His voice was low, with a hoarse edge. He still wore court clothing, but his shirt was untucked and the top button undone. He looked exhausted.

“I didn’t exactly help matters,” I said ruefully.

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Honestly, in the end I don’t think it mattered. The way things were going, it was all coming to a head regardless. And now with this demand that we return the changeling, well . . .” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Going to Oberon is a direct shot. Diplomatic discussions are done. I, for one, am glad you got her out.”

The way he spoke, with such finality, brought an uncomfortable stirring deep in my gut. I had no love for Fae diplomacy and courtly back-and-forth, but to say the time for talking was over meant things were taking a turn for the serious. Periclase had been gunning for us, trying to force the Stone Order into his kingdom, and it was escalating in a way that suddenly felt very real. And uncomfortably personal. Because somehow, I’d become entangled in all of it.

“Is Lochlyn okay?” I asked. I knew my roommate could handle herself, but I felt bad about having to leave her so abruptly.

“She’s fine. She actually sang beautifully last night, and for a moment I think it distracted everyone from the tension. She said to tell you she’d see you at home whenever you make it there.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think that will be any time soon,” I said. “I’m heading down now to press Bryna, and then Marisol has assigned me the unofficial role of Nicole’s New Garg BFF.”

He shot me a look edged with confusion. “Bryna?”

“Oh damn, you probably didn’t even know. Yeah, we ran into Bryna on the way out of the Duergar realm. I knocked her out and brought her here on the charge of attempted murder in the netherwhere. She’s going to lead me to the vamp I’ve been hunting for the Guild. Marisol knows, by the way. I had the pleasure of a late-night chat with her.”

“You need to hold Bryna accountable for violating the void,” Maxen said sharply.

“No,” I said with as much finality as I could muster. “It’s my choice, and I don’t want to go down that path and get tangled up in the High Court. I’ll take care of it.”

“Petra, you can’t just let that slide.”

“I’m not,” I said through clenched teeth.

He held up his hands in surrender.

“Good luck with Bryna,” he said. He started down the hall, walking backward so he was still facing me. “I’m glad you’ll be sticking around the fortress, whatever the reason.”

“Ha. That makes it all so much better,” I said sarcastically, but it actually was kind of nice.

“Oh,” he called from down the hall. “Jasper said to tell you hello.”

My pulse bumped, and I stopped short before I could catch myself. I pivoted and looked over my shoulder, trying to play it off. “Okay, uh, good to know.”

Maxen peered at me, and I couldn’t quite read his expression. Curiosity, maybe?

I pushed away the mental image of the golden-eyed Duergar as I continued on to the cells. I’d hardly had a chance to think about how Jasper had aided our escape. How I’d sworn an oath, promising a favor in return. Given the current state of disintegration in the New Garg-Duergar relationship, it was unlikely we’d be crossing paths any time soon. Or, if we did, it would probably be under contentious circumstances. Unease pinged in my chest. There was a possibility that my promise could end up putting the Stone Order in a worse position with the Duergar, depending on how Jasper ended up calling it in. Nothing to do about that, though. As Oliver had so bluntly observed, I couldn’t take it back. I hoped Jasper would keep the oath to himself. The last thing I needed was Periclase dictating how I’d have to make good on it. I suspected Jasper might not take that route, though. After all, he’d helped me escape.

Much as I tried to move on to other thoughts, I couldn’t help recalling how Jasper and I had fought the servitors in the Duergar courtyard. He’d handled himself with practiced ease, keeping his wry humor through the whole thing. I felt a zing from Mort, as if my broadsword was also remembering the battle.

As I approached the fortress jail, I refocused my attention. I pushed through the door to the small front office and found Patrick, the same attendant, on duty. I quickly signed in. I had the right to question Bryna alone but couldn’t take in any weapons. Patrick waited while I took off my scabbard. He locked my sword in the safe behind the desk. Fortunately, he didn’t question the plate of food when he took me back to Bryna’s cell.

Inside, Bryna was awake. Dark smudges under her lower lids and bloodshot eyes indicated she probably hadn’t slept much, if at all. She was curled up in the corner of the cell on the bed, with her legs drawn up, reminding me of when I’d found Nicole. It was cool in the cell, and the skirt of Bryna’s dress was pulled around her legs like a blanket. The fabric was dirty, and I could see the tear from when I’d stepped on the back of it as she’d tried to dart away. Her muddy high heels were discarded on the floor.

Her eyes narrowed as I came in, but she didn’t move.

Patrick shut the door behind me, leaving me alone with the prisoner.

I went to the bed, put down the plate, and pulled off the foil. The food was still hot enough to steam, and I waved the foil a little to waft the aroma toward her before crumpling it up and tucking the aluminum ball in my pocket. I retreated to a spot near the door, folded my arms, and leaned a shoulder against the wall.

“I’m going to make this simple,” I said. “Things are not good between the Duergar and the New Gargoyles. Since I brought you here, the situation has escalated. Diplomatic talks have ceased, and Maxen and the others have returned. No one’s playing nice anymore. So, if you want out of here, I’m your ticket.”

She just glared at me.

I waited. The food was still steaming. She didn’t look at it, but when her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips, and then she swallowed, I knew she was hungry. She had to be, after all the time she’d spent running around outside the palace when the rest of the party had been dining.

“What do you want?” she asked finally.

“I already told you. I need to capture Van Zant.”

“No.” She folded her arms, and her eyes slid off to the side.

“You don’t have any leverage here, Bryna” I said.

“You’re going to have to let me go tonight. You can’t hold me longer than twenty-four hours.”

“I can if I submit my charges to the High Court.” I really, really didn’t want to do that. It would mean having legal proceedings consume my life for months. “I’m sure Oberon and the rest of Faerie would be interested in how you violated the sanctity of the netherwhere with your wraith.”

One of her hands reached down to pull her skirt more tightly around her legs. She knew she’d lost. She was just being stubborn. I kind of got that.

“You’re getting off really easy, Bryna,” I said. “Just give me the vamp.”

“In return for?”

“If your information is good and I apprehend him, I won’t pursue charges in the High Court.”

“If I tell you where he is, you drop the charge and let me go. Whether or not you manage to bring him in isn’t my problem.”

I’d purposely left her that little bit of wiggle room, and she’d taken the bait perfectly.

I let my arms drop and leaned forward, taking a couple of threatening strides toward her.

“I said you’re not in a position to negotiate!” I barked the words so loudly she jumped and drew back, her eyes widening.

I gave her a steely, unblinking look of disdain and then half-turned away as I muttered a string of curses under my breath. Finally, I heaved a huge sigh.

“A compromise,” I said. “I must make it through a doorway with Van Zant.”

She inclined her head in acquiescence.

“Now say it.”

“I pledge this promise to you. I will supply you with Van Zant and give you a way to safely leave the Duergar realm with him,” she said in a grudging tone. She cast me a smirk. “Your turn.”

Magic tingled like electricity in the air.

I rolled my eyes. “I pledge my promise to you. If you personally uphold your promise so pledged, I will release you from custody and will not pursue charges against you in the High Court. And so a promise is exchanged.”

The air between us shivered and wavered briefly as our oath was sealed.

“I’ll be back for you in twenty minutes,” I said.

“Wait, I have to go with you?” she asked. “That wasn’t part of the bargain!”

I shot her an incredulous look. “It wasn’t not part of the bargain. You think I’m just going to take your information and go traipsing off to Maeve-knows-where into some trap you’ve set?” I lifted my chin at the plate of food. “Eat up, princess. You’re gonna need the energy.”

I fixed her with a hard glare, and then looked up at the closed-circuit camera, raised my arm, and flipped my fingers in a come-here motion to signal to the attendant that I was ready to leave. Patrick let me out of the cell, and I reclaimed my scabbard and sword at the front desk. In brief terms, I told Patrick about my deal with Bryna and that I’d be returning for her, so he could do whatever paperwork was required. Then I was on my way back to my quarters.

I didn’t really want to waste the time leaving and coming back to the cells, but I needed Bryna to at least inhale a portion of the steam from the food or, better yet, eat a bite. Then it would take a few minutes for the spellblade blood magic to take effect. My shadowsteel broadsword contained some of my own blood, which tied us together and made certain unique magic possible. The magic I was casting on Bryna was a clever one. If she tried to resist or defy me, she’d feel the cold edge of Mort’s blade pressing against her throat. The feeling was real and the threat of harm was real, but no one would see what was happening because the sword didn’t have to be touching her.

Normally, most Fae had permanent protection charms against such magic, but in jail no one was allowed to keep their charms. My own anti-potion charm was a small chain I always wore around my ankle. If Bryna had been allowed to keep her charms, Mort’s shadowsteel magic wouldn’t have worked on her. It was shadow magic, outlawed in many kingdoms. I was willing to risk trouble to use it, though, because I had the leverage of Bryna’s attack on me in the netherwhere, which was a worse offense.

I figured I’d use the few minutes I had to kill to go back and check on Nicole. But when I got near the door to my apartment, I saw that someone had beat me to it. Maxen was just raising a hand to knock. Curiosity spiked through me. Had Marisol sent her son to welcome Nicole to the Stone Order, or was he visiting of his own choice? I stopped where I was, watching as he waited. The door swung inward, and he spoke briefly before stepping inside.

“Lady Mag—I mean, Petra,” someone called behind me.

I turned to find Emmaline hurrying toward me, slightly out of breath.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said.

I found I was genuinely pleased to see her. “Glad you made it back from the Duergar realm in one piece.”

“Suffice to say, we won’t be invited back any time soon,” she said wryly. Then she turned all-business, holding her tablet a little tighter under her arm. “I’ve been assigned to accompany you when you take the Duergar woman out of the fortress.”

“Wait, what? How do you even know about that?”

She held up her tablet. “It’s in the system. And a prisoner may not be removed from the jail of any Faerie kingdom or Order solely in the company of his or her accuser. A sworn representative of the High Court must go, too, as a witness. I was sworn in just last month.”

I pulled one had down my cheek. “Oh, for the love of . . .” I let out a noisy, long sigh. “Okay, if that’s how it has to be.”

Seeing her not-quite-hidden look of disappointment, I held up a palm.

“I didn’t mean you,” I said. “If someone has to come with me, you’re my top choice. It’s just the bureaucracy of it all. I’m used to more independence. Life working for the Guild is a hell of a lot more straightforward.”

That seemed to please her.

I cast another long look at the closed door to my quarters. Maxen was still in there.

“Okay, I guess we should head back to get Bryna,” I said, oddly reluctant to leave without finding out what Maxen was saying to Nicole.

“So, uh, any idea of the changeling’s agenda?” I asked Emmaline. “You know about her, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, a fortress bulletin went out early this morning. Her agenda wasn’t published.” She peered at me for a second. “But I heard she was staying in your quarters. Wasn’t that Lord Lothlorien going in there a minute ago?”

“Um, might have been.” I cleared my throat.

“What was it like? Busting a changeling out of the Duergar palace?”

I cocked a grin at her, relishing the memory of the adrenaline coursing through me as Nicole and I made our escape.

“Damn fun, actually. And your info was spot on. She was being held in the bunkhouse by the stables. If not for you, I doubt I would have found her.”

Emmaline returned my grin, her lavender eyes sparkling. The memory of Jasper’s face just before I’d dropped into the secret passage in the tree surfaced in my mind. If not for Emmaline, I wouldn’t have found Nicole. But if not for Jasper, I might not have made it out with her.

“What happened during the rest of the trip, anyway?” I asked. “You gotta tell me about dinner. Please, torture me with the details of what I missed.”

“After you were . . . dismissed,” she said carefully. “Things mostly returned to normal in the reception hall.”

She recounted Lochlyn’s singing during the pre-dinner festivities and then described every course of the meal, right up to the after-dinner aperitif selection. My stomach felt hollow all of sudden. I made a note to go all out for lunch. I planned to have Van Zant in Guild custody by then, so it would be a celebration meal.

“It wasn’t until the dancing started that King Periclase got pissed and called things off,” she said. “There had been people coming in to whisper in his ear like every ten minutes for a couple of hours up until then. He stopped the music and sent everyone to their quarters, and we spent the rest of the night on lockdown. We left at dawn.”

“I’m surprised he stayed so cool for that long,” I said. “He had to have suspected it was one of us who busted Nicole out, and at some point, I’m sure someone identified me.”

“Yeah, he knows it was you,” she said.

My brows lifted.

“Rumors circulate fast in the Unseelie courts, and I was seated at the back with the Duergar court underlings. They’re the worst of the bunch when it comes to gossip.” She slid a look at me. “Apparently King Periclase was extremely puzzled by how you managed to disappear. And very put out that you’d found a way to sneak back in in the first place.”

I chuckled under my breath. Thank you, Maxen.

“Not going to spill your secrets?” she asked. “Or a hint about who might have helped you?”

“What?” I put on a look of mock outrage. “You think I needed help? That I couldn’t have accomplished such badass feats on my own?”

She gave me a wry smile and a little shrug.

“Ah. Now I see how it is.” I pulled a mock-sullen look, and she snorted.

My mood sobered as we arrived at the fortress jail.

Patrick was gone, replaced by a woman whose name was Nanette, according to the plaque on the desk. She had a grandmotherly appearance—soft rounded shoulders, her gray hair pulled back into a low ponytail, and readers perched on the middle of her nose. She had the crazy-long lashes of a Sylph, but otherwise looked like she had three-quarters New Garg blood, if I had to guess. I gave her a little salute.

“I’m here with my official representative of the High Court, who will accompany me with the prisoner and ensure I don’t talk mean to tape kick-me signs on the back of the woman who tried to murder me in the void,” I said.

Nanette raised one brow at me, apparently not amused, and peered at Emmaline over her glasses. “Your credentials, honey?”

Emmaline poked and swiped at her tablet and then turned it around so Nanette could see.

“All right, then,” the jail attendant said. She moved her glasses farther up her nose, picked up a tablet, and started reading from it in a monotone.

“The prisoner Bryna no last name given is hereby released into the custody of her accuser and an official representative of the High Court for the purpose of fulfilling the oath-bound agreement between the accuser and the accused. The prisoner Bryna no last name given will be released bodily and all charges dropped upon the fulfillment of said agreement, the terms of which are known only to the accused and the accuser. Do you, the accuser, understand?”

She looked up at me. I nodded.

“Sign.” She thrust the tablet at me.

I signed. A few minutes later, we were leaving the fortress jail with Bryna, who looked like a lost fairy-tale princess in her torn and stained gown, frizzed hair, and smudged makeup. She put her charmed jewelry back on as we walked. Not that they’d do any good against my shadowsteel magic. Her eyes were a little glassy, courtesy of the spell.

Bryna slowed and then stopped to lean against the wall for balance and put on her heels, which she’d been carrying. She fumbled with them a little, her fingers clumsy.

Emmaline peered at her and then shot me a sharp look. “You spelled her?” she whispered.

I lifted my hands innocently. “Is that not allowed?”

Emmaline touched the back of her hand to her forehead and then let it drop. “I’m going to have to report that.”

“Do what you gotta do,” I said mildly. I had no regrets about using the spell.

She let out a low sound of disapproval as she recorded something on her tablet. “What kind of magic?”

“Just a wee bit of shadowsteel blood magic.” I held out my hand with my thumb and forefinger pinched together to leave only a sliver of space between them. “Teensy.”

She looked up long enough to give me a withering look.

Bryna stumbled toward us like she’d had one too many drinks. When her heel slid off the side of her shoe, she nearly went down. “My shoes. They don’t want to stay on my feet.”

I made a strangled noise in my throat. “Okay, this isn’t going to work. We need to get some real shoes for her.”

Emmaline shrugged. “I can’t leave the two of you alone.”

I fought the temptation to yank at my hair. “I’ll go get her some shoes.”

I took off at a run toward my apartment. At the door, I gave a warning knock, waited a second, and then opened the door. Maxen and Nicole were sitting in the living room area, she on the sofa with her feet curled up and he in the easy chair. In spite of my warning, they both jumped about a foot when I came in.

“Just need some shoes,” I said, and beelined to the bedroom. I found some of my old Chuck Taylors from when I was in high school.

“I’ll check in with you later,” I said to Nicole as I hurried back out the door. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she was nervously playing with her honey-colored hair as she watched me rush in and out. I started to close the door behind me but then opened it up again and looked at Maxen. “I’ll be checking in with you, too, Lord Lothlorien.”

His brows rose, and he blinked a couple of times but didn’t have a chance to respond before I was gone.

I caught up with Emmaline and Bryna, and as soon as our Duergar charge had my Chuck Taylors tied onto her feet, we were off again toward the nearest doorway, which was located in an interior courtyard. We stood in front of the arched alcove.

“Okay, Bryna, you’re on,” I said. “Where do we go to find Van Zant?”

Her face hardened, her eyes tight. She shot me an insolent look, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came. Instead, she gasped and her eyes widened. Her fingers flew to her neck.

I leaned in so I could speak in her ear. “I suggest you cooperate, if you enjoy having your head attached to your body.”

She swallowed hard and blinked a couple of times and then drew a deep breath and let it out. The defiance had drained from her face.

“He’s in my room.” She turned her glassy gaze on me. “My quarters in the Duergar palace.”

I smacked the heel of my hand against my forehead. Great. Back into the lion’s den.