Twenty-Two
I DON’T REMEMBER how we got home. That trip was exactly the reason I didn’t like shopping. I went out looking for a book and a prism, and I almost got destroyed by the advance scouting force for a warrior race. That’s why I avoided the mall most days. Not that I’d ever seen an army of magical warriors kill everyone on a street before, but once was more than enough.
I heard Grimm in the mirror as I unlocked the door.
“Marissa, princess,” he called from the bathroom.
“We’re okay,” I said, knowing he could hear fine.
I walked into the bathroom, where Grimm waited. “I found out you two were in Kingdom this morning, and I was greatly worried, my dear.”
Ari held up the bag with my prism. “Doing a little shopping.”
“Marissa, did you see the fae?”
“Saw them. Heard them. Almost got cooked by them. My ears are still ringing. Grimm, I’ve been reading as fast as I can. What’s a Seal? I’m sure the answer’s in a book I should’ve read by now.”
“It is, my dear, but I believe you’ve earned a little direct education. A seal is a barrier for a realm. In this case, the fae Seal, for the Realm of Fae,” said Grimm.
“So every realm has one?” I knew there were seven realms, seven royal families.
“Earth is not sealed, my dear, but all the other realms are. Without their seal, one could cross into Fae anywhere, instead of the agreed-on and prepared portals. One could strike at the heart of a realm and walk away without ever passing a guard.”
I held up my book package. “I’m only up to about a thousand years ago, but the fae had a lot of enemies back then.”
“And now,” said Grimm. “They believe someone in the city has rendered them vulnerable, and will do anything to coerce us to return it.”
Ari tapped on the mirror to get Grimm’s attention. “Who has the Seal?”
Grimm detested being treated like an aquarium fish, and frowned. “Young lady, if I knew that, I would have already alerted the authorities. Honestly, it isn’t anywhere as best I can tell. This isn’t like Liam’s curse. I knew he was alive, I just wasn’t looking for the right form. The Seal isn’t present at all. Anywhere.”
“Someone destroyed it?” asked Ari.
“Killed, young lady. You kill a seal. If they had killed it, we would know for certain. The effect would be unmistakable, and leave a crater the size of an office building. I want you both to stay out of Kingdom and stay away from the Agency. I can’t keep everyone safe, but I will do what I can.” Grimm exhaled, and I wondered for the first time ever what the limits to his power were, beyond his stingy nature.
“Grimm, you mind if I skip around in my reading a bit?” I asked.
He looked at me in surprise. “I was certain you would have read the history of the Black Queen first. Of course. Consider it a reward for diligent effort.”
“Is it the whole story?”
Grimm began to fade. “No, my dear, but it contains what you want to know.” He left us alone.
It wasn’t easy to fall back into a vacation rhythm when I knew a war was fast approaching, but I did. It’s not that I didn’t care, it’s that there was so little I could do. Grimm wouldn’t let me come into the Agency, and frankly, I was beginning to feel like I was normal again.
I sat in the chair each night, reading the history of the Black Queen, which was primarily concerned with who she killed and how (the answers are: a lot of people and in grotesque ways). She wasn’t all that creative either. Thorns through the eyes, thorns through the ears, thorns through the—okay, in some ways she was creative, but it was all the wrong ways. Late one evening, I finally found what I was looking for.
“Ari,” I said, and she came out with her hair in a towel. “About what the witch said—”
“You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t matter.” Her tone was cold, and her eyes looked past me, lost in thought.
I read aloud. “‘She called them, and they came, those who bore her mark, and they knelt before her to receive her blessings. Her handmaidens swept the land like a plague, the shadows that went before and after her.’” I closed the book, tired on so many levels. “The witch said ‘She’ marked me. Can you see it?”
Ari came over and took my hand. “I still don’t see magic that well, but I don’t see anything. You know what I’ve been reading about? Witches. She told me the truth. We’re the same. Witches were all seal bearers once. Then they started using wild magic.” Her eyes were open wide, her face looked nearly panicked.
“I thought witches gave birth to witchlings.” I’d actually never given any thought to the matter, but now I understood Ari’s concern.
“Evil witches can’t have normal children. Their sons are satyrs and the daughters gorgons. Witches were seal bearers like me.”
I thought about my blessings, and how almost everything they’d done caused me more trouble. “It’s just a name. We decide what we are.”
She almost smiled at me, but looked away. When she spoke I could barely hear her. “I’m not sure anymore.”
The doorbell rang, and it was not time for the daily mail. I grabbed my gun and approached the door. “Beatus, Consecro, I might need you.” I had no idea what the little guys would do in a pinch, but from what I read, some curses were capable of pulling your intestines out through your nose.
I hated peepholes. They required you to put your eye right up to the door and when (not if) something poked a claw through the door, your head was right there. So I had a camera installed a few years ago.
The man standing outside wore a fine gray suit and showed no signs of rabies or fangs or the normal problems you see in the city.
Ari looked at him with me. “Assassin?”
“Doesn’t look respectable enough for that. Probably a lawyer. Either way, go hide.” I put away the gun and opened my door.
The man reached into his coat and took out a scroll. “I’m looking for Arianna Thromson. I have a message for her.”
“What is it?” asked Ari, breaking our agreed-on rule that she hide in the bathroom until I gave her the all clear. She took the scroll. Those Kingdom types still wouldn’t use phones or text messages. Ari read the first few lines and her eyes went wide. A tiny sob escaped her, and she dropped the scroll, backing away.
I stepped into the doorway between them. “She’s not going back, and that is not negotiable.”
The messenger caught my tone and raised his hands. “I’m not taking her. It’s her invitation to the funeral ball.”
I slammed the door on him, knowing he was waiting for a tip, and read the scroll. The first bit was your usual proclamation stuff. I skipped over it to the silver writing that identified the actual message.
We celebrate the passing of King Torsten Thromson, and his rich life, this Friday, the twenty-second, at eight in the evening—her Majesty the Queen.
Ari lay on the couch and curled into a ball, tears streaming from her eyes. She began to sob and rock as pain finally found a voice. Her tears ran like a river for hours.
I wasn’t used to having anyone around to comfort me. Agents became best friends with pain, and sorrow rented out every spare room in our lives. So I sat beside her, and held her hand, and listened to the silence. Her sadness found a counterpart in me, and without Grimm or Evangeline watching, I finally felt free to let it out. When she finally fell asleep, I covered her with a blanket and settled into the recliner.
In the morning, she woke me up to talk, looking at me with eyes ringed red. Her pale skin made the purple bags under her eyes look worse. I sat up and gave her a hug that only caused her to gush more, as though I’d squeezed the tears from her.