Chapter Eight

As soon as I was aware of solid ground beneath my feel, Isaiah shoved me hard enough to propel me forward. I ending up sprawled face down on a cold and very hard, brightly colored tile floor. “Stay down and play along,” Isaiah sent. When he placed his booted foot on the back of my neck, I froze.

Holy crap. “What the hell—”

“It’s fine. Just keep your trap shut.” He spoke in Rux—the demon language—to someone standing nearby. He didn’t need to translate, since he’d taught me to understand the language years ago. It was a bitch to pronounce so I rarely spoke it, and forget about writing it down. Ugh. The symbols looked like a cross between animal footprints and Rorschach tests.

“Please tell his Royal Highness I’ve returned with the required fae.” The sound of retreating footsteps was followed by the whoosh of a heavy door opening and closing.

Isaiah removed his foot and leaned over me. “Morph into a typical fae. One of those pale, sickly fellows with no fashion sense. And knock off a few inches from your height while you’re at it.”

“What? Why?”

“Do it.” I did what he asked, changing to look like Scolton, a slim fae I’d gotten to know while I was visiting Cascade. Isaiah nodded in approval. “Perfect.”

I was sitting now, dropping the mindspeak. “Look, you’d better start talking. I want to know exactly—”

“Shush. While you’re here you’ll use only the Fae language. Pretend you don’t understand or speak Common Unseelie.”

“Well, that won’t be hard, ’cause I don’t.” I pushed hair out of my face, annoyed that he’d loosened it. “Forget this.” I started to rise, but a heartbeat later I was back on my belly with Isaiah’s boot in the middle of my back.

“He’s coming,” he hissed.

“Who?”

When the door opened, my sharp ears could discern the sound of at least six people entering the room. They walked in boots except for the last one who sounded like he was wearing slippers or soft soled shoes. I tried to twist my head to see, but Isaiah increased the pressure on my upper back.

From my position, the only view I had of the room was of the elaborate ceramic tiles I was practically kissing, all different and painted in wildly clashing colors that somehow mixed well together. Chaotic art.

I curled my hands into fists and growled deep in my chest. Uncle or no, Isaiah was asking for a bloody nose, treating me like this. Unofficially, I was a fae prince, and even a distant heir to Naberia’s throne. He had a lot of freakin’ nerve…

As the mysterious ensemble grew closer, I allowed my imagination to fill in the details. Their stride was relatively short, which might mean they were not as tall as Isaiah or me. Their clothing was probably constructed of some kind of heavy cotton or coarse cloth, because when it brushed together, I didn’t hear the whoosh of silk or satin. I took in a long slow breath. The scent of cloves was strong, with something citrusy layered beneath.

I wiggled and felt more pressure between my shoulder blades. “I could throw you off of me.”

“You think so, little demon?” Isaiah called me that when I was a little kid. I really didn’t appreciate it so much at eighteen.

A male began to speak, his language rough and pitched so low I could feel the vibration through the floor tiles. This wasn’t Rux he was speaking, but there were a few words that sounded similar. Isaiah answered in his usual rich tones, although compared to the original speaker, he sounded like a tenor.

A few moments later I was yanked to my feet by the collar of my green fae tunic. I’d forgotten how strong Isaiah was. The male on the throne began to laugh when he saw me. At least I think he was laughing. It sounded like repeated bullfrog croaks. Or low burps.

I took a second to look at the rest of the room, then wished I hadn’t. Everything was decorated with brightly colored tile mosaics, from the ceiling to the walls to the floor, only nothing quite matched. If you stared long enough it would definitely give you a headache.

The male who’d laughed was waiting for me to say or do something. He was short, like I’d guessed, his unblemished skin the color of ripe apricots. His eyes were a dark copper, his nose wide and his mouth way too large for his face. The rest of his body was proportioned appropriately for his height, at least as far as I could see. He was sitting on an enormous servant who’d taken a hands and knees position behind him. Another very large servant supported his back. And I’d thought Fionna treated her servants badly.

“Does taking the crown automatically make you an ass? Maybe there’s some kind of chemical reaction when the metal touches his head?” I asked Isaiah. The king wore a copper colored crown on top of a headful of very dark hair.

“Perhaps you should address your inquiry to His Royal Highness, the King of the Unseelie,” my uncle replied.

“A Goblin?” I asked.

“A Goblin.”

The Goblin King was scowling. I’d shelve the question for now.

The king swept his bare arms out to the side and made hurry up motions with his hands, but I was too engrossed by the intricate patterns of tattoo-like designs that decorated his arms, hands and even the soles of his bare feet. The tattoos were drawn in reds and purples, the symbols unfamiliar and really remarkable. I wanted to get a closer look, but the two very large guys on either side of him were looking at me as if they were planning on me being the main course in today’s menu.

“Talk to him in Fae.”

“And say what?”

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t speak Fae.”

I did my best translating. “Mary had a little lamb. Her fleece was white as snow. Everywhere…”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Isaiah had grabbed my arm in the same tender place. Freakin’ sadist.

I kept my cool, speaking slowly. “You said it didn’t matter.”

“Say something intelligent.”

“Fine.” I bowed low to the male on the throne. “Your Royal Highness, it is my great honor to make your acquaintance, although I fear you are not seeing me at my best. I was dragged out of bed in the middle of the night and—”

Now he was smiling. I think. It was hard to tell with that enormous mouth. He might have been getting ready to take a bite out of me. The corners almost wrapped around to the sides, so all I really saw was the middle. He grunted a few impatient sounding words.

“What did he say?” I asked Isaiah out loud.

“I don’t know. I barely speak the language,” Isaiah snapped.

“What?” I couldn’t believe this guy! He couldn’t speak the language but he expected me to…

Isaiah shrugged. “I think it was something about—”

“He said you do not seem to be a proper hostage.” For the first time I noticed the male who was standing to the king’s right. He was slightly taller than the regular guards, not counting the two bodyguards—Bubba One and Two.

Hostage? “Could you back it up a minute and explain why the king needed a hostage?” This was nuts.

The translator guy glared at Isaiah. “We sent this creature who calls himself Isaiah to find a fae hostage.”

“They don’t know who you are?” Isaiah shook his head subtly. I frowned. “And why would this creature agree, Your Highness?” I asked. “I happen to know he’s notoriously bad when it comes to following orders.” I made a slow circle near my head with one finger. “He’s one tile short of a mosaic.” I figured they’d get that reference.

Isaiah curled the corner of his lip to reveal a nasty looking fang. Oh good. More fun to come.

“He was to bring us a fae noble to prevent His Royal Highness from slicing him into many pieces and feeding each one to Queelar, the Freckstill who inhabits our lake.” He’d said all that with a straight face, but he had to be kidding. Wasn’t he?

I turned and faced my irritating uncle, this time speaking in English since the translator knew Fae and Demon. “You pissed off the Goblin King? How did you manage that?”

“It wasn’t hard. He can be unreasonably short tempered.”

“So you brought me here as a freakin’ hostage? You planning on letting him cut me up into pieces?”

“Of course not. You’re family. But he only gave me twenty-four hours and you were the most convenient fae to accost. At the moment, you’re more expendable than I am. Naberia requires me to remain close to home. There is great chaos as the war approaches.”

“I’m more expendable? Not according to the prophecy.”

“Which we both know is bull.”

“Yeah, well, Sinlae and the Fae Council don’t agree.”

“Sinlae is a six inch tall pixie with a brain smaller than a pea. And the Cascade Sidhe Council? Ha. Don’t get me started describing those—”

“You’re gonna leave me here?” This couldn’t be happening.

“They treat hostages well here in Unseelieland. And I’ll come back for you eventually.”

“When the war’s over? When it’s too late to help?” He didn’t respond. “Uh huh. Well, take care, because I’m out of here.” I reached for the magic and came up against a blank wall. “Wait, where…”

“We’re in the Unseelie Realm. The king blocks the demon and fae lines.”

“You’re messing with me, right?”

“Unfortunately, no.” Isaiah actually looked anxious.

“How did you get here?”

“A special twenty-four hour dispensation from the king.”

“This is great. How do I get in touch with my family?” I heard the panic in my tone, but adrenalin was pumping through my body at record speed.

“Oh, so now you want to get in touch with them?”

I grabbed him by the shirt and shook him. “What did you do?”

His shirt was suddenly burning my hands. I stepped away, wiping them on my pants. His anger was simmering on the surface, his eyes growing darker. “I did what was necessary.”

I had to know the truth. “Did Naberia tell you to do this?”

Isaiah, the guy who’d trained me for years, who’d taught me more about my demon heritage—about my life as a powerful supernatural—flinched as if I’d struck him. “I would not betray you to her. She has no power here and no knowledge of your whereabouts.”

“But you’d betray me to them?” I tilted my head in the king’s direction. Isaiah shrugged again, his indifferent expression a knife in my gut. “How am I going to get out of here?” I asked.

He met my gaze. “That is entirely up to you.”

His betrayal was a kick in the face. “I trusted you.” He reached to place a hand on my shoulder, but I stepped away, disgusted by his attempt at comfort. “What now?”

As usual Isaiah’s reply was cryptic. “Use your instincts. They won’t fail you.”

“Right now my instincts tell me to pull out my dagger and stab you in the heart.” His mouth thinned. “When you come back for me you’d better be ready to fight, Unc.”

I walked toward the rear door of the room. Maybe I could find a goblin or another unseelie who’d take me out through his hidden lines. I could offer him some money, only I didn’t have anything with me. Isaiah had made me dress and leave so quickly, I didn’t even have my wallet. Or my phone, not that it would have worked down here.

An enormous creature blocked my path, but I wasn’t in the mood for playing nice.

“Move.” He didn’t budge, so I said the same word in Fae, Rux, and French. He laughed at me, folding his arms and broadening his stance. I reached to my belt and unsheathed the blade my birth father had given me for my fifth birthday, an item I carried with me everywhere. It was covered in Fae runes and spelled with a deeper magic keyed in to only my unique aura. No one else could use the weapon and if they tried, it would turn on them.

I held the ancient blade in front of me so he’d get a good look, relaxing my body and finding my center in case there was a fight. I didn’t want to hurt this monster of a male, but I would if he tried to stop me from leaving.

“Charles.” I turned and froze in my tracks, realizing too late the king had used my true name. “Charles. You stay, child of prophesy.” He muttered a few sentences to his advisor. Some of the guards behind him looked at me, shocked, but when the king glared in their direction, they resumed their neutral expressions.

“I need to leave, Your Majesty. No one knows where I am. They’ll begin a search. They might start a war.”

“You stay until Isaiah brings proper fae.” He scowled at Isaiah, who’d remained unusually quiet since I reamed him out. “You, demon, will return with a pureblood from the Fae Council, or your debt is not paid.” He switched his gaze back to me. “You speak Rux?” I nodded and his relief was obvious.

Switching to that language, I asked, “Why do you need a fae hostage?”

“They have my daughter.”

“Zerian? Fionna’s…” He growled. “Your daughter?” He nodded. “I saw her at court when Finvarra took down Kennet and Fionna. The queen was trying to marry her off to Aedus.”

Isaiah sent, “I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Not even a vrapt female.” I had no clue what a vrapt was, or what the females of the species were like.

“She has not returned,” The king said. His monster mouth was frowning. He began to doodle in the air in front of him, like a witch might if casting a spell.

I stepped away, but Isaiah reassured me. “It’s not a spell.” He pointed toward a far wall, which had been completely white a minute ago. Intricate swirls and patterns in crystalline colors appeared on the plain surface, drawing the eye.

“Do you see the resemblance?” the king asked, completely focused on his elaborate design.

All the squiggles and lines had taken shape, forming a female of exquisite beauty. “Fionna,” I said.

“No. My daughter. Zerian is so like her mother in appearance, yet not so in spirit or intellect. Fionna was cruel and clever. Zerian is compassionate and intelligent. She should be here in our realm where she is cherished.”

I yanked my gaze away from his creation. “Fin told her she could come back. I heard him say it.”

“They have imprisoned her.” He’d stopped drawing and had met my gaze directly for the first time. His coppery eyes burned with anger.

“Fin wouldn’t do that.” Fin could be a pain, like Isaiah, but he’d always been truthful and direct, telling me how I’d messed up or done well without hesitation.

“I have known that trickster for ten thousand years and more. He lies when it suits him.”

“He’s not like Isaiah,” I snapped. I heard Unc mumble something in the background in a language I didn’t know. I was still burning mad about tonight’s escapade, but to be fair, I was positive most supernatural rulers were guilty of lying to get what they wanted, even Fin. “She’s his grandchild. His family and his subjects are more important to him than anything else.”

“Not more important than his power. His position. He is a monster who cares nothing for the unseelie races. He will despise my daughter for her goblin blood. When I agreed to sire a child with Fionna, it was decided that the child would be protected from those who would be prejudiced against her. She was to live here with me, but Fionna stole her away to the Faerie Court many times.” The king stood and walked toward me, flanked by four guards. “Perhaps you are the correct hostage after all.”

Now that he was standing, I got a better look at the Unseelie King. He was my mom’s height, around five foot nine inches, but his straight posture and his regal presence made him seem a lot taller. Since he hadn’t done anything to threaten me, I returned my blade to its sheath. It was probably not a good idea to attack the king and start a war. Yeah, definitely not cool. “What if I said I could find her?”

“You?” He looked skeptical.

“I can go to Faerie. If she’s there, I can ask around to see where she’s living and speak to her.”

“You’d spy?”

“No. I’m not bringing back state secrets or anything like that. They’re my family and friends. I’ll try to find out what she wants to do. Maybe she’s happy in Faerie. It’s beautiful there and with Finvarra at the helm again, it’s a much more tolerant place.”

“I doubt she prefers that narrow world to the one in which her true family lives.” He noticed me looking up at the ceiling and wincing. “This is where I express myself artistically.” He pointed toward the wall where he’d drawn the picture of Zerian. “These colors inspire me.” He swept his hand in an arc, indicating the crazy tiles made up of a million different designs and colors. “The remainder of the court is quite different, however, a tour is out of the question. My apologies.”

Drawing after drawing began flashing across the canvas wall, each one equally as beautiful as the last. He didn’t seem to have a particular subject he liked best, although pictures of Zerian were fairly common. The ones where he drew her smiling were my favorites. I was willing to bet Fionna didn’t smile that often.

“Does she have friends here?” I asked.

“I have many children. She has siblings and friends here as well.”

“And they accept her, although she’s half fae?”

He laughed. “I believe you are only familiar with the world of humans, demons and the fae?” I nodded. “I am Khent, the Goblin King, but also the ruler of the Unseelie Realm, accepted by all races as sovereign. Some of our many species are not particular in whom they take as mates. The results of these unions can be surprising, but all their children are accepted, unlike in the realms of demons and fae.”

“I’m accepted in both realms, and also in my own.”

“Yes, but you’re a special case, aren’t you?” He looked me over. “You seem a healthy, confident young male. I would imagine you have worked diligently improving your skills throughout this past year, and now could best many on the battlefield who would have been awarded odds against you only a short time ago. I suppose all the warriors you encounter must respect your prowess.”

My face heated and I found it necessary to stare at the picture of Zerian that had returned to the wall once more. Other than the skills I used occasionally to help out the cops and keep Triad in the black with PI jobs, I’d been mostly ignoring my magic and my weapons training for the last year. “I haven’t exactly been fighting duels, but I’ve brought in my share of criminals—”

“Charlie!” Isaiah was giving me that ‘you stupid idiot’ look. Maybe I shouldn’t have admitted to not training too hard. He turned to Khent and smiled. “Charles has been trained since a very early age to handle himself with weapons of all varieties, including the magical gifts with which he was born.”

“Weapons of all varieties, eh?” The king’s expression had brightened.

Isaiah kept talking me up. “Swords, guns, bows, daggers, foils…”

My stomach was twisting, as I imagined where this line of conversation might lead.

“He pulled an unusually powerful blade on my guard.” Khent said, frowning.

“I didn’t threaten him with it.” I added quickly.

“May I see it?” the king asked, taking a step closer.

I took a step back. “I don’t recommend it. You’ll be burned if you touch the blade or the hilt, and the scars may not heal.” There was no way I’d hand over my arcane dagger.

“I believe it is forged and crafted by the same weapons master as mine.” The king said.

Isaiah’s face lit up. “You possess an archaic dagger? One of the three unseelie blades?”

“Perhaps. And I believe Charles controls one of the fae blades. Is this not so?”

I glanced at Isaiah, but he shrugged. Guess it was up to me to decide. “Yes. It was given to me by my fa…my birth father.”

“Kennet.”

“Yes.”

“Is he dead?” The king asked, leaning slightly forward.

Good question. “No one knows but King Finvarra.” I answered, automatically moving a hand to push my hair out of my face only to realize it was tied back. I was so wacked out right now, I was probably gonna forget my name in a minute.

“And your dagger?”

Isaiah frowned. “My dagger?”

“We know who you are, son of Naberia.”

He didn’t seem phased by this news. “I repeat. My dagger?” Isaiah would not be cooperating. Nothing new there.

“Come. You are the heir to Naberia’s throne. I am sure she must possess one of the demon blades.” The king waited, but Isaiah kept his mouth zipped up. Too bad he didn’t do that when he was with me.

Isaiah definitely had one, I’d seen it up close, but no matter how pissed off I was with him, I wasn’t squealing.

“You are incorrect regarding inheritance. Only a female heir may inherit the throne, and in case you haven’t noticed, I am male by choice.” Isaiah had explained to me years ago that in the Demon Realm, only females ruled. Demons were able to live as either sex, but all demons had a preference and that determined the form they took. And why didn’t everyone choose to be female so they’d have a chance to rule? Because Naberia didn’t share well. Not. At. All.

The king laughed his toady laugh. “Either sex may rule. Naberia is the one who changed the law. Before her reign, demons were ruled by males.”

“Um…how long…uh…” I couldn’t fathom that timespan.

“Our parents were birthed when the magnificent creatures you call dinosaurs inhabited your planet.”

“And you?”

“Finvarra, Naberia and I were birthed in the same revolution, although none of us came to power until over a hundred million human years later.”

“Over a hundred million?” I swallowed hard. “You said revolution. A war?”

“No, the same revolution of our planet around its sun.”

Was he talking about this planet or another?

The king unsheathed his dagger and held it out. “May I see yours? I won’t be foolish enough to attempt to touch it. I know enough about its maker and his magic to keep a respectful distance.”

Mine was constructed of a metal that was melded in magic and favored by the fae, the blade decorated with sleek runes and designs that held a spell so ancient, I had thought the smith was not known. There was nothing blatantly fancy about my dagger, yet when it shone with my multi-hued aura, its elegance was without equal.

The king’s dagger was forged of a different metal. Instead of carved runes, his was embedded with tiny stones and jewels, emitting a light the same shade as his dark blue aura. When the ancient blades shone with the aura of its wielder, the weapon became a sentient creature, a partner in the death of an enemy.

The three fae blades were in the hands of Fin, Liam and me. The demon blades: Naberia, Isaiah and strangely enough, my mother. And today Isaiah and I had found out Khent held one of the unseelie blades—not surprising at all. The bearers of the other two powerful unseelie weapons were still a mystery.

Were these blades simply magical weapons to be used against one’s enemies or did they serve a greater purpose? Deep down, I wanted to believe they were more.

The king’s dagger was forged of a different metal. Instead of carved runes, his was embedded with tiny stones and jewels, emitting a light the same shade as his dark blue aura. When the ancient blades shone with the aura of its wielder, the weapon became a sentient creature, a partner in the death of an enemy.

We held them closer together. “So different, yet equally magnificent,” the king remarked, his eyes as wide as mine. A thin wisp of smoke appeared at the tip of each blade, snaking in a spiral toward the other dagger. We stepped away at the same time, sheathing our weapons and looking at each other curiously.

Isaiah was grinning like a chimp. “Fascinating.”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?”

“I have not held my weapon so close to another made by the same smith but for a different realm. Perhaps they are spelled to communicate in some way,” the Goblin King said.

“Do you know who made them?” I asked.

“Isaiah did not tell you?” The king turned to Isaiah. “I was under the impression you are the boy’s trainer.”

“Look at him. He’s not ready,” Isaiah insisted.

“What does that mean?” I asked, frowning.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Isaiah snapped.

The king laughed. “I’ll leave it to you, then.”

“Look, this chat is great and all but I have work to do: kids to save, a dog to feed, a mom to reassure. May I leave now, Your Highness?” I nodded in the fae custom.

“And your offer to find Zerian?”

“That stands. I’ll do my best.”

“Your best may not suffice. Many look to you to lead them in the coming war. As it happens, I am not one of them. If you are looking for my trust or the support of my race, it must be earned. I will personally protect my people from all attackers as I have always done. I will neither support Naberia, nor Finvarra. Most importantly, I will not see one unseelie killed due to another race’s quest for power.”

“I wish everyone felt that way about their people.” The truth.

The king smiled. “It would make for a more peaceful world, certainly.”

“No kidding.”

He looked from me to Isaiah. “I will think on this. Meanwhile I will provide you both with accommodations suitable to your stations.”

“Both?” Isaiah did not look happy.

“What? I thought we were done. How long are you keeping me here?” I asked, my temper flaring again.

“Until I reach a decision.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and four of his guards peeled off and flanked us. One of them was supersized. “They will see you to your quarters.”