As soon as Dria stepped through the portal, guards surrounded her. Gods, she hated being home. She forced her fingers to remain lax, though they wanted to curl around a fireball she could lob at the drec around her. She’d spent too many years during her youth dodging the loreln, bodyguards turned spies. They’d reported her every deed to her father, and at least one of them had shared information with those at court who’d loved to mock and torment her.
Now when she left the palace for the Citadel where she trained, she dismissed the loreln upon arrival. Little was likely to happen to her there, the stronghold of the highest-ranking battle mages. But in the palace? Safety here was sadly less certain after the dark deeds of her brother Kien.
A great deal was less certain after Kien.
Head high, Dria gritted her teeth and ignored the trailing bodyguards as she strode into the vast entryway that led to the throne room. Clusters of nobles gathered in gossiping knots down the entire expanse, waiting for her father to begin receiving petitions, but she ignored them, too. It was safer that way. If one of them taunted her now, she’d zap them with a bolt of lightning, and then there’d be an uproar. Again.
Voices cut off mid-sentence as she passed, only to swell into frenzied whispers at her back. No change there. Yes, it was better not to listen, something she had learned during her teen years. There was no peace for a princess whose brothers had created the greatest court scandal in millennia. She might have few friends at the Citadel, but at least no one there treated her with suspicion or scorn.
Not anymore.
Why had her father summoned her? There would be no funeral rites for the disgraced Kien, and Teyark, her oldest brother, had bonded quietly and without ceremony months before. Perhaps the king was planning some fete for Ralan, her third and last brother. Everyone was surely thrilled by his return from his three-hundred-year snit on Earth.
Everyone but her. She had no desire to see Ralan, now or possibly ever.
As Dria ascended the pair of steps leading to the double doors, she gave no indication that she saw the nobles who shuffled off the tiny landing between her and her destination. Only the weak or the desperate waited on the platform right by the entrance. Those wanting to appear important pretended carelessness in the long hall behind her.
A pair of guards stood in front of the doors. Neyes and…someone new? The woman seemed familiar, but it didn’t matter. Why bother learning her name? With luck, Dria would be gone within a mark’s time. She barely resisted tapping her foot as Neyes pushed one of the great doors open.
As soon as she could manage without appearing hurried, Dria strode through the gap. Her steps slowed as she entered the throne room, but a quick glance revealed that her father wasn’t there. The room was empty, and the tables from the morning meal had been cleared away despite the early hour.
She sent out a tendril of energy and found her father was in his study. She headed toward the door in the corner, but a hint of something off—something dark—brought her to a halt. Frowning, she swept her energy out in a more detailed scan. A chill trickled through her at the echo of death magic, the barest hint that someone less familiar with the place, and someone less skilled, might miss. Strongest in one spot…there.
Dria glanced down at the place her magic had carried her, and the ice inside her grew. In the smooth floor, a single flaw stood out. A chip in the stone.
The place where Kien had been beheaded by their father.
“Feraien?” one of the loreln whispered softly from behind her.
Dria stiffened, hating the title but unable to refute it. Until she worked her way up the ranks at the Citadel, “daughter of the king” was the best she was going to get. But it was a good reminder. Her older brother’s death—and life—had marked their family, but she didn’t have to let it rule her future. She would meet with her father quickly and return to her work.
If she worked hard, she might be promoted to third-in-command of her mage group within the next decade.
“I’m going,” Dria said as she resumed her march toward the door in the back corner.
Let the loreln believe her to be rude and haughty. Everyone else here did, and she’d grown to appreciate the benefits of that opinion. They might whisper about her, it was true, but now that she was an adult who’d passed her mage test with ease, they also tended to leave her alone so long as she ignored them.
Dria entered the study without bothering to knock. Her father would have sensed the surge of power from the portal, and the guards would have notified him that she was here, particularly since she was late already. Sure enough, he was in the process of standing as the door closed behind her, leaving the loreln in the throne room. Her brows rose as she glanced around, confirming what her magic scan had already told her.
They were alone.
This must be something momentous if neither Teyark nor her mother were present. Enielle hated to miss anything concerning her children, and Teyark often acted as their father’s assistant despite no longer being heir. The king’s posture held a defensive, uncomfortable edge, but that wasn’t new. He hadn’t quite known what to do with her for centuries.
Dria stopped on the other side of his desk. The broad expanse of wood wasn’t the only thing separating them, but it was easier to consider than the three hundred years of missed holidays and forgotten mirror communications. Not that it mattered. The father who had carried her on his shoulders around the throne room was long gone.
She inclined her head in a formal gesture and then waited as they studied each other in silence. The lines around King Alianar’s eyes had deepened, and his once-black hair was now mostly gray. Her heart lurched at the change despite her less-than-charitable thoughts. The toll of grief hadn’t been as obvious when they’d spoken through the mirror.
Or was it more than grief? Had anything else happened to effect such rapid change? Perhaps she should come home more often.
“Good morning, Dria,” her father said tersely. “I am gratified that you have finally deigned to answer my summons.”
She drew her shoulders back. “I had a mission to complete.”
“According to Lady Fenae, you were reinforcing the cooling spell set into a minor lord’s cellar. Hardly life or death, and not something you are suited to, besides.”
He had her there. She’d hated that mission, which had taken her away from her combat practice, but they weren’t exactly at war. Sometimes her group ended up doing less…urgent tasks. Work was work.
“Fire might be one of my strongest elements, but that doesn’t mean I can’t use others. I do have a little proficiency with water,” she said. “And the task was important. The food stores were at risk, and if you must know—”
“Dria.” Alianar sighed, and a touch of sadness darkened his expression. “I did not ask you here to start an argument, nor did I mean to insult what you do. However, it is obvious that you were avoiding me. We both know that the rest of your troop could have handled the task.”
“You have been content to ignore me since my eighteenth birthday.” Dria’s nostrils flared at the memory of that ill-fated day. She’d expected a celebration. Instead, she’d been sent off to the Citadel. “I didn’t think you would mind a delay.”
“I made more than one mistake after Ralan fled and Kien’s insanity was discovered. I should have believed Ralan when he told me that Kien was planning to murder him. I might have prevented years of grief for many.” The king averted his gaze. “And I shouldn’t have sent you away. I thought it best, considering how you were being treated, but if I could go back…”
“Save it,” she snapped, though his words caught her by surprise. But, no. She would not settle her emotions on his favor again. “Just tell me why you wanted to meet with me so I can be gone.”
Her father ran his hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic show of agitation. Uneasiness climbed her throat like bile, but she ignored it. He deserved to be upset by the past. And perhaps he agreed, for he didn’t push the point.
“I have a mission for you,” he finally said.
Dria’s forehead wrinkled. That was the last thing she’d expected. “Excuse me?”
“You might have heard rumors that Ralan is constructing a secondary palace near the portal to the Veil, though few know the reasons why.” The king’s lips twisted. “I’ll leave it to him to explain the bulk of it. Suffice it to say that there was a major incident on Earth two weeks ago.”
Earth? Yes, she’d heard rumors, and some of them had concerned that distant world. Her friend Gessen had told her the bulk of the stories, since most avoided speaking about her family in her presence. According to the whispers, Kien had released some type of poison into the energy field—the vital well of power from which elves and other races of fae drew their magic. Some had heard that the poison was gone, but others contested that the palace was being built to deal with the situation.
But no one had mentioned an event two weeks ago.
“I’ve heard nothing reliable,” she said. “What does it have to do with me?”
Her father gripped the edge of his desk and leaned forward. “A new portal was created, Dria. A direct gate between Earth and Moranaia, no Veil involved. In the process, one of our citizens and his dragon companion created a cavern system capable of holding a small outpost of guards. Between that and the new palace, we should be able to protect the portal.”
“Dragon compan—no, never mind.” If what her father said was true, dragons were the least of their problems. The Veil acted as a safeguard for their world, as those unable to navigate the relentless, endless mists would wander forever without finding their way to Moranaia. “A direct portal could be dangerous. I can see why you’d need guards, though I can’t imagine the humans are thrilled with a fae settlement. I thought they didn’t even believe in our kind.”
His expression hardened. “The humans don’t know. They can’t know, regardless of what they believe. And that’s where you come in.”
Dria lifted her brows. “Me?”
“I need a mage who can set up the proper shielding and provide protection, and it needs to be someone I can trust.”
She wanted to laugh. He’d spent too little time with her to be certain of her loyalties, so his claim of trust seemed foolhardy. Even if he was right—she wouldn’t betray her people or her family—he had no solid reason to be positive of that. Besides, she was far from experienced enough for this kind of task, and there were plenty of trustworthy mages in his service.
“The best mages in the realm are at the Citadel,” Dria said. “Including the Ogefa of the Taian branch, the Mage General. And you’re going to assign this to me? I’ve only been out of training for a little under a century, and I’ve barely moved my way up the ranks of my own troop. If you think giving me a task like this will go over well, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Miaran, Dria,” her father cursed, his fingers going white on the edge of his desk. “I have to have someone I know will not talk. A single step can take us between worlds. Most are content here, but we both know our people are far from perfect. If anyone unscrupulous should hear of this before we protect it, they could create havoc on Earth. My own son—”
The king’s lips pressed closed, but Dria didn’t have to guess what he was thinking. Kien would have been the first to use the portal for evil. “Beyond that danger, you are still a member of the royal family,” her father finally continued. “Your word holds more weight than even the Ogefa.”
Her fists clenched. “No one would accept me as a leader at my age.”
“You won’t have to be in charge.” Alianar shrugged. “Ralan is the nominal leader in my place. You have only to direct the mages if needed.”
Ralan. Of course her other brother would be presiding over this potential disaster. Messing up her life once clearly wasn’t enough for him. “Do I have a choice?”
The king sighed again, and she had to give him credit for looking regretful. “Not this time, Dria. Not this time.”
Huddled in the corner of the booth, Vek spun the beer bottle absently between his fingers and glared at his nephew as he wove his way through the crowd, a tray balanced in his hands. Be social, Fen had said. Learn to integrate. Vek snorted. As though he would ever manage either of those things in a human eating establishment. He’d received a fair number of wary glances since the moment they’d arrived. It was an inevitable reaction to his predator’s energy.
His nephew plunked the tray down on the table and slid into his place on the other side of the booth. A mischievous glint in his light blue eyes, Fen gestured toward a plate containing a pile of food in various shades of brown. “Chicken tenders and fries, Your Highness.”
“Shove off,” Vek muttered out of habit as he took his plate, but he couldn’t get too angry at his nephew’s sarcastic tone. They definitely shared a sense of humor.
The thick, breaded slices seemed most likely to be chicken. Vek lifted a piece and sniffed. A hint of pepper, but mostly bland. Ah well. He’d eaten worse. Shrugging, he took a bite, and…damn, it was actually good. He downed the whole piece before realizing that Fen was staring at him. Silently laughing, too, the ass.
“This world has its—”
“City,” Fen interrupted, shooting a pointed look at the full table not too far from their booth. “Or town. Your English is slipping.”
Vek’s lips twitched. “Indeed. Sorry. This city has its advantages.”
“This is why you need to get out more.” Fen lifted his burger from his plate. “I mean, we’ve made a good start on the tan, but you’ll enjoy your vacation more if you explore. Meet people.”
Vacation, huh? It hadn’t even been two weeks since the wall withholding most of Earth’s energy had failed, releasing magic back into the world, but the effects were making themselves increasingly known. It was no pleasure for Vek to wander the human city of Chattanooga in search of those whose power was finally awakening. Well, he’d been looking for Unseelie descendants, at least. He had no interest in the trouble any other races might experience.
“I have become acquainted with three already,” Vek said in a low voice. “But there was no need to form a friendship.”
Thankfully. The three with latent Unseelie blood had been powerless enough that he had no cause for concern. None of them would be strong enough to do much more than light a candle with their new magic, provided they figured out how. If they felt an uncomfortable hum in the blood from the growing energy, that wasn’t his problem, either.
So far, the awakening he’d worried about was a terrible disappointment—or it would be if he wanted humans performing magic. The increased energy had done little except create random blackouts and other technological failures around the globe, a phenomenon that human scientists were struggling to explain.
Oh, and it had empowered the fae who did know how to use magic. So far, they’d been smart enough to stay out of his way.
“Yo, Vek, the ladies by the bar are checking you out.”
Why had he agreed to let his nephew stay with him? Not only would the Unseelie king be furious when he found out, but Fen was perpetually annoying. “So? Human women either stare or run, and I’m not in the mood to enjoy either.”
Fen chuckled. “Not searching for love, then?”
“Absolutely not,” Vek snapped. “I can find lovers whenever I wish, but I have no desire for love or mate bonds. Especially not with a human.”
Fen lifted a brow. “I said they were checking you out, not putting on wedding dresses.”
“Do I look like I have time for sex?” Vek waved his hand, and he scowled harder when his nephew smirked. But he could shut Fen up. “Besides, I’m babysitting. Were you older and not related to me, perhaps we could share. Alas, there are some kinks not even I enjoy.”
That wiped away much of Fen’s smug expression. “I’m twenty-three. A bit beyond babysitting age. And I never suggested sharing.”
Was it the lighting, or had Fen’s face reddened? Thanks to his half-human heritage, Fen wasn’t quite as pale as Vek, but his blush showed just as spectacularly. “Have I embarrassed you, nephew?”
“It would serve you right if they were about to ambush you into a wedding,” Fen muttered. “Maybe if you got married, you’d mellow out. Be less of an asshole.”
Vek snorted. “Not likely.”
The last thing Vek wanted to do was bring a mate into his life. He lived on the edge, never certain of his father’s whims or the machinations of his power-hungry relatives, and it would not be fair to ask a woman to weather the maelstrom. The Unseelie Court was a brutal place for the weak and the unprepared. Besides, the desire to take blood from one’s mate was strong for a Felshreh, and Vek’s unique ability would make that…complicated.
And he doubted anything would improve his disposition.
Overhead, the lights flickered. A woman’s yelp sounded from the bar area, and one of the men at the nearby table laughed nervously. “Gotta love those solar flares, right?” the human ventured.
Vek frowned. He hadn’t detected a fluctuation in the energy fields, the true reason that electronic devices had become less reliable. Most people appeared to blame solar activity like Earth’s scientists, but… A scan of the room revealed more than one uneasy glance being exchanged.
As the tart smell of fear hit his nose, Vek pushed his plate away and leaned back. “Sense anything?” he asked Fen, careful to keep his voice low.
His nephew shook his head. “Nope.”
“Perhaps we should take a walk,” Vek said carefully, hoping his tone would convey meaning. “Do some…sightseeing.”
With a sigh, Fen dropped his half-eaten burger. “Probably.”
Vek slid across the cracked leather seat, only to freeze when the electricity cut off with a soft pop and distant whine. He blinked, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the darkness. Beside them, the people at the closest table murmured amongst themselves, fear lifting their voices more with each passing moment.
“This ain’t no solar storm,” a human muttered. “Has to be a cyberattack.”
The woman beside him shoved at his shoulder. “You’re not reading conspiracy theories again, are you? The Earth is round, aliens aren’t—”
“I know the Earth’s not flat, and I don’t care about aliens.” The man’s voice grew louder. “Y’all know this ain’t normal.”
Vek scanned the human with his magic. The man had fae blood, enough that it might bloom into something useful if he learned how to tap into it, but he wasn’t Unseelie. Therefore? No one of consequence.
Dismissing the human from his thoughts, Vek braced his hand on the table to push himself out of the ancient booth. But before he could rise, two figures filled the space at the end of the seat. He glanced up, cursing to himself as soon as he recognized them.
“Quaea. Kethen,” Vek said, keeping his expression as blank as possible. Quaea’s presence he understood, as she was his father’s preferred messenger, but not his cousin Kethen, who was in mourning. Were they here about Fen? “An interesting place to meet you.”
“Not so.” Kethen’s shadowed gaze fastened on his face, his normal friendliness absent. But of course, he hadn’t acted quite the same since Kien’s energy poisoning claimed his son’s life. That death had resulted in the king ordering Vek to capture Fen, a sentence Vek hadn’t quite carried out. “We were searching for you. Your father requests your presence.”
Request? Hah. But at least they hadn’t mentioned his nephew. If Vek didn’t make a fuss, they might ignore Fen entirely. Seeming to sense what was at stake, Fen shrank into the shadows of the booth.
“He will tolerate no delay,” Quaea added, her hand slipping to the hilt of her knife.
Vek gave a sharp nod, though inside, he seethed. “Of course.”