Copper Ravens (22 page)

As most girls do, I've always very much enjoyed the occasional fancy dress party. For this event, I had the silverkin fashion me an emerald silk gown, not of the flimsy stuff but of the sort of heavy fabric one would use for draperies. These gatherings tended to occur in ancient stone halls, full of drafts and devoid of centralized heating, and I didn't want to spend the entire party shivering away.

In addition to staving off chills, my outfit was also pretty damn fine. It looked like the silverkin really had paid attention to the fashion magazines I'd brought over from the Mundane realm. My gown had a long, draped skirt
sans
petticoats and was topped with tight sleeves and a fitted bodice. And, since I now knew that it was customary to incorporate one's element into one's attire for these sort of events, I'd gone all out. I'd coaxed a length of copper to outline my torso and decidedly scandalous décolletage. More copper twined through my upswept hair, and my shoes were delicate copper platforms attached to ribbons that wound up my calves, vine-like, to my knees.

Once I—and Shep—was satisfied with my appearance, I stepped out of my chambers and found my little sister waiting for me in the hallway. Sadie, who loved dressing up almost as much as she loved books, had chosen a sunflower-hued silk gown edged in stiff white lace and, of course, copper. Delicate copper filigrees cascaded over her arms and shoulders, covering her back and rising to a high, wide collar. A delicate copper tiara set with citrine wound through her hair; truly, she looked the part of the Metal Inheritor. She was so beautiful, I bet she would even outshine Oriana.

“If only I can act like the Inheritor as well,” she said when I complimented her metalwork. “Should you be wearing a metal other than copper?” she asked, indicating Micah's token nestled in my cleavage.

“I think it'll be okay,” I mumbled. Removing the delicate silver chain hadn't occurred to me, but Sadie had a point. “I guess I'll find out when we get there.” After all, I could always take it off.

We descended to the front hall, and I nearly lost my footing at the sight of Micah. My Micah. He was wearing a coat of woven silver cloth over a black silk tunic and pants, and black leather boots, his wickedly sharp blade at his side. As always, his mass of silver hair had resisted all attempts at taming and floated around his pointy ears like an earthbound cloud.

“My Sara,” he greeted, taking my hands. “By far, you are the loveliest vision that has ever graced my eyes.” He twirled me around, and as his arm stretched, I saw the copper cuff on his wrist.

“You're wearing it,” I murmured, touching the token that proclaimed Micah as mine. “I worried I shouldn't have another metal on me.” Micah's brow quirked, then he moved my token aside and pressed a kiss to my cleavage. My breath caught, and I flushed from the roots of my hair to my toes, only to flush further at the sound of a throat clearing.

“Real classy,” Max smirked. I'd been so intent on Micah, I hadn't even noticed that Max and Mom were also in the room.

“Leave them be,” Mom said, stepping forward to arrange the tendrils that always seemed to escape my hair, no matter how many clips and pins I used. “Can't you see that he loves her?”

At that, Micah's cheeks darkened, but he didn't miss a beat. “It's true, Max,” he murmured, reclaiming me from Mom's hairdressing attempts. “I've lost my heart to your enchanting sister. I only hope she'll give me hers in return.”

He was grave at the end, and I wondered what he really meant. Wasn't it obvious that I loved him? I mean, I was here in the Otherworld with him, living in his house, traipsing to all these ridiculous events with him. Then his hand brushed my belly, and I understood his meaning all too well. Before I could think of anything not too horrible to say, Sadie piped up.

“That's great that you two are all sloppy over each other, but can we go now?” she asked. “I'd like to get this over with.”

If Micah was offended by my lack of response, he made no mention of it. After saying our goodbyes to

Mom and Max and extracting a solemn oath from my brother to not leave the manor until we returned, along with another oath from Mom to keep the silverkin in one piece, we were on our way.

Earlier, Sadie had agreed to travel to the Golden Court along the metal pathways as Micah and I normally did, which was a relief. While I'd done all I could to make my copper shoes comfortable, high-heeled metal footwear was not meant for extensive walking. Besides, shouldn't the Inheritor of Metal make use of one of her basic abilities? In my opinion, that was a firm yes.

The metal pathway carried the three of us along, swift as a river bursting from the spring thaw, and in a short time we arrived at the Golden Court amidst other Elemental dignitaries. The entrance to the court was packed with Elementals, metal and otherwise. The first person I recognized was Ayla, the Inheritor of Fire. She was tall and slender, her lithe form swathed in rich crimson and orange silks that paled in comparison to her red, red hair. Close behind her was Old Stoney, who had granite plates affixed to his clothing like some kind of Paleolithic armor. He didn't notice our arrival, being that he was leering at Ayla with barely-concealed lust.

“Why are the metals all pure elements, but earth isn't?” I asked Micah. Something—let's be honest,
many
things—bothered me about Old Stoney, and I thought I'd just figured one of them out. “I mean,

granite is made up of feldspar and quartz, but I don't hear about any brass or pewter elementals.”

“At times, I think you look for strife where none exists,” Micah murmured. Normally I would have been offended by the obvious brush-off, but the combination of Micah's amused smile and his hand firmly pressed against the small of my back placated me. That, and I couldn't risk an argument with one of the only two allies I knew I had in the Golden Court. Gods willing, a few others would step forward, and soon.

We gained entry, and once again I marveled at the beauty of the Golden Court. If anything, it glowed even more brightly than it had during my previous visit, the golden walls and floor so shiny it seemed like we were standing inside the sun. I looked upward and saw that the roof had been retracted, filling the hall with even more golden light. I squinted at the clouds and hoped it wouldn't rain.

“The queen can't afford a roof?” Sadie quipped. “Can't she just hock a couple gold lampshades or forks to get a few bundles of shingles?”

I laughed despite Micah's quelling glare, and the three of us entered the main hall. It was enormous, far larger than the room Oriana had received Micah and me in for our lunch date. The walls and floor were gold, as I'd expected, but that was where the queen's metal ended. Chandeliers of cut crystal hung from the arched ceiling, with matching sconces on the walls. Between the sconces hung solid crimson panels of fabric edged in swags of pearls and sparkling gems, and a matching carpet led up a set of steps to what I assumed would be Oriana's throne. I, who had become accustomed to the opulence of the Silverstrand manor, gasped at the wealth before me.

Before I could truly appreciate my surroundings, the other lords and ladies of silver arrived and nearly swarmed Micah in their adoration of him. I hadn't realized how many others of silver there really were, having only seen a few in the Whispering Dell. But here they were, at least fifty of them, each and every one of them nobility in their own right, and Micah's loyal subjects.

They clustered around him, and I automatically stepped aside. Micah wasn't about to let me hide, not this time anyway, and grabbed my hand.

“For those of you who were not yet aware that I have taken a consort,” Micah said, drawing me beside him, “I present to you my beloved, Sara Corbeau.”

Those of silver turned as one, and dozens of silver eyes gave me the same quizzical, sweeping gaze that I got from all the rest. They took in my copper hair, and that my belly was flat. A few females sniffed indignantly, murmuring to each other that they'd have birthed an heir or two by now; others commented upon the Lord of Silver taking up with a Raven. However, since I was just a consort, most of the crowd resumed fawning over the Lord of Silver, ignoring me in the process.

I didn't mind, really. At these sorts of events I preferred to remain in the background and observe, and the perfect time to do so was while Micah interacted with his subjects. Those of silver seemed truly devoted to him, so much so that they were constantly looking out for his interests.

But where were others of copper? The ones who had sent me gifts, the ones who saw Max and Sadie and me as leaders? Micah had assured me that Oriana hadn't ordered those of copper to keep their distance from us, but that didn't explain the lack of a copper presence here at the Golden Court; Micah had said that all of metal were to pledge themselves to Oriana. So, why would all those of copper ignore a directive from their queen? If I was a betting woman (and I wasn't, thanks to all the times Max had gotten beaten up), I would bet that they
had
been ordered not to appear.

If I was completely honest with myself, I'd been hoping to see at least a few copper Elementals here, thus proving my suspicions against the queen wrong. That, and right now I could really use a few friends. Their absence made me feel both wrong about the queen, and wrong about having any allies.

Somehow, someday, I am going to get something right.

“Who is that?” I heard someone ask, indicating Sadie. “Our lord has two consorts?”

“No,” was the reply amidst knowing laughter, “she is the consort's sister, the Inheritor of Metal.”

“Why doesn't Lord Silverstrand take the Inheritor as his consort, then?” asked the first. “It would be a wise move, what with Greymalkin again making his presence known.”

“Yes, that certainly would be shrewd,” the second stated. “Shrewd, indeed.”

There was a small chorus of agreement, and it was all I could do not to run screaming from the hall. Remembering Oriana's advice, I mustered what little grace I had, turned on my heel, and walked toward the nearest door, which led me to a small, enclosed courtyard, the high walls creating a gloom that matched my mood. I sank down onto one of the benches, fully intending to hide for the rest of the evening.

I'd just gotten settled when I heard the door open and softly close, then Micah's arms were around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder, waiting for him to ask why I was out here all alone, but he didn't. After a time I sighed and told him anyway.

“They don't like me,” I whispered.

“Who doesn't?”

“Your people. Those of silver.” I fingered the edge of his silver coat. “They think you're wasting your time with me.”

“I don't care what they think,” Micah said.

“They think you'd be better off with Sadie, since she's the Inheritor and I'm a nobody.”

“I don't care what they think,” Micah repeated. He moved to look into my eyes, holding my chin so I couldn't evade him. “Do you hear me?
I do not care
. I love you, my Sara, and that is all that matters.”

“But, your people—”

“I love them too, but I have only ever bestowed a token on one person,” he murmured, tracing the silver chain about my throat. “Only you.”

“You never had a consort before me?” I asked, a bit bewildered.

“It is not a situation that one enters into lightly,” he replied.

“I thought that was what royalty did, take consorts and…such.”

Micah's brow furrowed. “You thought this was a temporary arrangement?”

“Um, yes.”

Micah sighed, then buried his face in his hands. His shoulders trembled, I thought with anger at his useless, stupid consort. Then he raised his head, laughter creasing his features, and reached inside his fancy silk shirt. He withdrew a few items, small and dull, like little pebbles. “Do you remember these?”

I squinted in the dark, my breath catching as I recognized the three pennies I'd given him that day before the Lovers' Pine. “You kept them?”

“Of course. They were the first things you'd ever given me, freely and without expectation.” He dropped them into my palm, then tightly closed my hand around them. “At the time, I hoped they were given with love.”

“They were,” I murmured. Though I hadn't realized it at the time, I'd fallen fast and hard for my silver elf. “I thought they weren't good enough for you. That's why I made you the cuff.”

“They were—they
are
—perfect. But the cuff is nice too.” We laughed at that, then Micah reclaimed the pennies and slipped them once more against his heart. “You see, my love, I have never considered us to be anything but permanent. As soon as you are with child, you will be my wife. My only wife,” he added, pressing a kiss to my temple.

I so did not want to have the baby talk here, so I opted for a drastic subject change. “Your people, they were also talking about Old Stoney hanging around again. What's that all about?”

Micah's face clouded. “He was Ferra's lover.”

Those two? Oh, ick. “Does that mean he helped the iron bitch capture Oriana?”

“Yes. He is now embroiled in the arduous task of begging for her forgiveness.” Micah smoothed back my hair. “Do you understand?”

“About Stoney?”

“About us.”

I sighed; that was all the subject change I was going to get out of him. I took his hand onto my lap, pushing up his sleeve and tracing the copper cuff he wore. It was my first real experiment with the metalwork that was my birthright, not to mention my first real defiance of the Peacekeepers. Oh, sure, I'd done little things, like rig up my Picture Vision to watch prewar movies and cut the government tracker out of my arm, but those were different. They had been nothing but petty acts of defiance, a child thumbing her nose at her elders. The magic I'd used to make the cuff was real defiance, defiance that could have gotten me killed, or worse. And I'd done it all for him. What's more, I'd do it all again, that and more.