Selene shook her head, just a little. “No, it’s okay,” she said out loud. Then, to prove that she really was okay with it, she added mentally, It’ll just take some getting used to, that’s all.
Another thing you’ll need to get used to is the effect that using your powers will have on your body.
What do you mean? She’d felt fine so far and she’d been casting up wish spells like mad.
During your transformation, you receive an influx of strength. Like a transfusion. It helps you cement who and what you are.
He waited while she digested this and her gaze again skated over the magnificent bubble city above them. In one of the bubbles, a little girl about six inches tall skipped across her miniature yard and pressed up against the bubble to stare at them with wide, iridescent eyes. Then she smiled and waved ecstatically.
Selene returned both the smile and the wave.
But now that your transformation is complete, Avery continued, there will be limits to what you can do.
More of them? she thought rather poutingly.
Indeed.
Selene sighed aloud, and then, just because she could and she wanted to, she pulled herself against Avery’s back and laid her head down, hugging tight.
Avery released one of the handle bars in order to gently press his hand over hers where she had them clasped at his waist. For one thing, he told her, it can be exhausting. When you effect other lives, it will drain your own.
Explain, she demanded.
The bigger the change you exact in others, the harder it will be for you to handle. You can do anything you like to yourself and you’ll be fine. As you’ve probably guessed, you can even heal yourself, though as the Seelie Queen, this power will come natural to you anyway. It’s in the interference in other existence that you must be careful. In other words, he said, don’t ever try bringing someone back from the dead. It’ll kill you outright.
A bolt of fear went through Selene. It was one of those warning feelings, the sort of sensation one got after a very close call.
She thought of the trees she’d saved from destruction and of the animals she’d saved in the pounds they’d visited, and of the lives she may have saved when she’d interfered in various situations across the globe. How much would that have drained her if she hadn’t been going through her transformation at the time? And if it was so draining, why were Wishers so feared by other fae?
In fact, they are most feared when they first gain their powers, Avery supplied. What went unspoken were the words, It was why I stayed with you….
But she heard them as if he’d said them. She heard them in her soul.
He’d protected her. He’d helped her to become who and what she was – and he’d watched over her as she had done so, despite the fact that he was one of the three most powerful fae alive and therefore had perhaps the most to lose by her existence.
Selene…. His voice purred through her mind, achingly, wonderfully intimate. You are my existence.
Selene’s grip on his waist tightened. Because she believed him.
Do you really think the Goblin King could be an enemy? she asked.
No, Avery told her. But, like I said, he’s one of the few fae powerful enough to know of the kind of magic we encountered. Damon Chroi was king of the Goblin Kingdom before my brother and I were born. He’s as good a place to start as any.
Ten minutes slipped by with Selene resting her head against her king’s back, her arms wrapped solidly around him, the bike rumbling steadily beneath them, the lands changing and shifting on either side of the long, smooth road. Ten minutes became twenty, which became an hour. Selene looked up now and then, took in the fantasy of their surroundings, and marveled in the things that existed beyond her mortal world. Vaguely, she recognized that if she were in that mortal world, if she had been the woman she’d been three days ago, she would be getting sore by now on the back of that bike.
Hell, Avery would have made her sore.
But the fae in her was growing strong and sure, and there seemed to be no pain here. For once, the impossible was made real. There existed a world with no suffering.
A part of her wished everyone could experience this.
Be careful, my love, Avery warned softly. But there was a smile in his mental voice. He knew that this did not count as a “wish” made by a Wisher. Because she knew that such a thing was impossible – save, perhaps, for the length of a dream. Or a flash of inspiration.
Eventually the terrain became less magnificent and more sparse. The crystal trees, carpets of flowers and rolling hills thinned out to make way for dark stone that stretched flat and hard. Selene peeked over Avery’s shoulder to what lay ahead and found herself watching a distant shoreline grow nearer. An ocean vast and dark stretched beyond it, and on the far, far horizon, something dark and tall cast a shadow upon the sea.
That’s Chroi’s gate, Avery told her, referring to the stone spire that rose from the watery depths to pierce the sky to invisible heights above. It was too far away for her to get a good look at it, but from what she could tell, it was immense and impenetrable. If he doesn’t lift it by the time we get there, we’re going to have to come to a very sudden and somewhat messy stop.
Messy?
Anyone coming up to the gate but not allowed through it will find themselves unceremoniously dumped into the sea. And this is one’s not for the leisurely skinny-dip.
Selene knew that as a fae queen, she would survive just about anything, and it would take one hell of a mortal wound to do her in. So they wouldn’t die if that happened. But she was guessing she wouldn’t be happy, either.
The land around them became narrow, bordering the bike on either side as the road they traveled on literally jutted out over the water like a tarmac pier. But little by little, the bordering land gave away, and before long, the road was no more than one long, thin bridge of asphalt.
Selene looked down at the water lapping up on the edges of the road bridge. It was thick water, the kind you find after a storm, all stirred up and troubled. Dark shapes moved in its green-black depths, which seemed truly endless.
Think he’ll open the gate? She asked, not wanting to appear worried, but feeling a bit anxious.
If he doesn’t, I’m not coming to his baby shower.
The thought hung in the air as they drew closer and closer to the looming, massive gate. Selene again craned her neck, but this time to peer up at something straight out of Lord of the Rings. At its apex was a needle of a spire that disappeared into a hazy atmosphere a sheer mile above. At its base, it was exactly what its name sake professed – a gate. A portcullis, to be exact.
Of sheer metal.
Not iron, I presume, Selene said, remembering that iron was caustic to the fae.
No, Avery agreed. It’s osmium and palladium.
The heavy metal gate drew nearer… and nearer….
Selene’s grip on Avery tightened. His hand twisted on the throttle, as if to tempt fate. Selene ducked her head.
And just before they would have run head-long into it, the gate before them shimmered, becoming immaterial.
Avery’s bike rocketed through to the other side.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You cut it closer every time,” Avery said by way of greeting as he and his queen turned the last corner from the castle’s corridor and strode into the massive chamber that served as the Goblin King’s reception room.
There, Avery stopped though, pulling Selene to a stop with him, as something akin to a cross between a wild boar and an alligator scurry-clomped past him, almost stepping on his boots.
“Oh… my….” Selene whispered beside him. He didn’t have to glance her way know what she was referring to.
The Goblin King’s once still and hollow great room had been transformed beyond all reason. The massive tapestries hanging from the walls, at one time pristine despite their age, were now tattered at their edges. They billowed and moved, with small, furry bodies attached somewhere beh
ind them that gripped the material with tiny, sharp claws as if hanging on for dear life.
The stone floor and fine rugs were littered with bowls of food and water, some overturned, and blankets were strewn this way and that, obviously having served as make-shift beds for creatures who preferred them to actual pet beds. This was made clear by the fact that the pet beds themselves were lined up nice and neat along one wall and appeared for all the world not to have been slept in, even once.
The room was filled with sounds. There were squawks and squeaks, rumbles and purrs, hisses and growls, and moving bodies covered in fur and winged bodies flitting overhead gave the giant room the impression of incomprehensible life. It was everywhere.
Avery took this all in as quickly as he could before Damon Chroi himself came around another corner across the room and gave him a reprimanding look. “I cut it closer every time?” he asked incredulously, shaking his head. He was wearing a My Little Pony Pinkie Pie tee-shirt that stretched taut across his broad chest and large biceps, and a gray My Little Pony beanie cap partly covered the thick, dark brown curls on his head. In his arms, he carried no fewer than five kittens, who were very busy attempting escape any which way they could manage.
“Yeah, I think we can cross him off the suspect list,” Avery whispered to Selene.
She gave a small chuckle, but he could tell she was still trying to absorb everything she was seeing.
Damon hastily made his way to the nearest couch and gently deposited the squirming felines, which instantly attempted to carve their ways in-between the cushions. “What are you doing here, anyway?” Damon asked, turning toward them now. “I see Caliban’s spell didn’t hold you for long.” He eyed Avery closely, his keen observing skills probably missing nothing. “But I’m betting his blood’s made you reckless. No doubt that’s why you didn’t even bother to warn me you were coming before barreling through my gate.”
He hurried across the great room to a pair of infant Fuatharkans who were about to go “dark” over a specific chew toy. He separated them, magically duplicated the toy so they’d each be happy, and addressed Avery over his shoulder. “You know, you’re damned lucky I noticed you on time. I barely made it back here to the castle myself. Diana is still with the others. One of the alpha werewolves, the Healer’s husband, was attacked.” He paused for emphasis. “He was killed.”
Before Avery could fully digest that, Damon’s gaze slid to Selene. “You must be the Seelie Queen,” he said, by way of greeting. He stood and nodded respectfully. “Sorry for the mess. You’re not exactly catching us at our best.”
Selene managed a smile. Her eyes were very wide in her beautiful face, but her smile was absolutely genuine. And he could imagine why; he was well aware of her affinity for animals. This zoo was probably paradise to her. “Oh,” she said, as she peered around at all of the animals Avery realized she’d never seen before. “I don’t know about that.”
“And I honestly thought you were late taking down the gate because you were on Facebook again,” he said, changing the subject.
Damon shook his head as he helped a kitten down from the nearest tapestry. “Not on there much anymore, as you can probably guess. No time.” He gently tucked the kitten into his arm, examined its claws, and then grabbed a pair of clippers from the top of a nearby speaker to begin very carefully trimming their sharp ends.
A gray short-haired cat with eyes the same color as hers suddenly bumped her body against Selene’s leg and purred loud enough for Avery to hear it even over the cacophony of the great room’s zoo. Selene looked down and then bent to gently scritch the cat behind its ears. “Hello,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”
“Her name is Artemis,” supplied Damon without looking. “She’s one of Diana’s rescues, and the first of them to call the castle her home.” He expertly finished with the kitten’s claws and set it back down on the nearest rug.
Artemis blinked her blue, blue eyes up at Selene, and Selene’s smile broadened. “You’ve got a moon name too,” she whispered. “Just like me and Minerva.” Then she looked up at Damon. “And actually, Diana too.”
Damon nodded knowingly.
Selene stood and looked at Avery. Avery turned to Damon. “I think you’d better fill us in on what’s going on with the wolves.”
Damon was about to respond when one of the animals in the room began knocking over a stack of shelves against a wall. He moved quickly toward the shelves and barely managed to right them on time. Even so, several books from the top slid off their perch and tumbled to the stone floor below.
“I’ll do my best,” he said as he stooped to pick up the books and was nearly knocked over himself by a rampaging Birando. Birandos were three-foot tall giraffe-like beasts with the heads of antlered deer and paws rather than hooves, and they were full of rambunctious energy. Birandos made terrible pets.
Avery glanced at Selene, but she was way ahead of him. She smiled at him, muttered a wish having to do with nap times and sleepy animals, and the great room fell into deep, peaceful silence.
Damon slowly straightened. All around him, beasts both magical and non-magical that had been running rampant only moments earlier had curled up on the nearest blanket or cushion or swatch of rug and gone to sleep.
Eyes wide as saucers in his handsome face, Damon turned to regard Selene. “Holy shit,” he whispered in awe. “You’re a Wisher.”
*****
An hour later, Damon had filled them in on what was transpiring with the wolves and Rafael’s vampires, what happened to Lucas Caige, and the fact that Dannai Caige and the high witch, Lalura Chantelle, had gone through some sort of portal into the Duat in order to attempt bringing Lucas back.
Diana, Damon’s wife, had remained with the grieving to aid in whatever way she could, as the different factions of the supernatural world began mapping out how to handle these new challenges.
Damon had only returned a short while ago to the castle to check on the animals – at Diana’s behest. And to hear it from him, “There’s no arguing with a pregnant woman.”
Avery was sitting back in one of the recently vacated plush leather chairs and mulling everything over when one of the infant Fuatharkans from earlier nudged his boot and caught his attention. He frowned. “Chroi, did you by any chance let one of these loose in my realm recently?”
Damon sat up a little straighter where he, too, had been reclined on a long couch across the coffee table from them. He looked from Avery to the cabbit and back again, his expression stern. “No,” he said simply.
And Avery believed him. Chroi wasn’t a man who lost things. He was in charge of the goblins, after all.
Avery shook his head. There was something more going on here than any of them were realizing. It was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “There seems to be a rift in the borders between my kingdom and Cal’s,” he said softly. “And that’s not good.”
If a Fuatharkan could get through – then other things could as well.
Like unicorns.
Damon’s interest seemed piqued. “No, it isn’t. You saw a cabbit in the Seelie realm?” When Avery nodded, Damon asked, “Anything else?”
“Not so far. But given this spell that went off and the fact that it seems to be fae in nature… I can’t help but think we’re actually dealing with two separate problems right now: The threat from Kamon and his minions, including Rafael D’Angelo, who seems to have declared war on the werewolves, and some sort of rogue fae… who has it in for either me or Selene.”
“Or me and my sister,” Selene reminded him.
“Is that why you’re here?” Damon asked with a raised brow.
“Yeah, but you’re off the hook,” Avery told him. “On the other hand, you were around during the time this spell would have been set in motion. So anything you can tell me about who was who back then might prove helpful.”
Damon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes settled on Selene thoughtfully. “You know, we’ve beli
eved for a very long time that Wishers were extinct.”
“So I’m told,” Selene said.
“The fact that you’re here right now is a miracle that would have been considered a disaster by the Tuath in charge thousands of years ago. To say nothing of the fact that you’ve managed to make it through your transformation alive.”
Selene blinked. “The Tuath? What are they?”
Avery became very still. A cold wave of something went through him as he realized that he’d never told Selene something so vitally important. So fundamental.
“I am a Tuath,” he told her suddenly, drawing her attention from Damon.
“As am I,” Damon added.
Selene looked from one of them to the other.
“And so is Caliban,” Damon said. “The Tuath are rare, though not nearly as rare as the Wishers. They’re sometimes referred to as ‘Nobles,’ given that every king the realms have ever had thus far was a Tuath.”
“So… that’s the kind of fae you are? Like those people at the café were Korred and… and that’s a cabbit?” Selene pointed to the Fuatharkan that was now nudging her leg instead of Avery’s. Then she knelt and picked it up, obviously no longer afraid it was going to transform into a massive black beast and rip her heart out. She was falling into her role as queen with natural grace.
“Exactly,” said Avery.
“So it was the Tuath that were afraid of the Wish fae and demanded their deaths?”
“We call it the Time of the Slaughter,” Damon told her. He sat back in his chair again, and a beer appeared in his right hand. He took a long swig of it, looked down at the coffee table, and two more bottled beers appeared on its surface. Avery could see chunks of ice slide down the glass on the outsides of the bottles.
Avery picked them up and handed one to Selene.
“Thanks,” they said together.
Damon nodded and continued. “The slaughter was a decree of the very same kings who sent me into exile here,” he told them with a glance at the great stone castle around him. Outside, night had fallen, and it was raining. It always rained in the Goblin Kingdom. Unless Diana was there.