Dark Swan Bundle (51 page)

“Or, better yet, you should throw the Thorn Queen a party,” said Dorian, deadpan. “I'm sure she would love it.”

This time, I did elbow Dorian. Leith didn't notice. Dorian knew perfectly well I dreaded Otherworldly social events—particularly when the focus was on me.

“Really,” I began. “That's not—”

“Of course!” said Leith. “We haven't had a grand ball in quite a while. We could invite hundreds of people….”

I decided then that elbowing wasn't severe enough. It was with great restraint that I didn't actually kick Dorian. He placed his own elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand, appearing quite entertained.

“You'd have to outdo Maiwenn's party, to truly show Eugenie honor,” said Dorian. “That's going to be hard to do. Of course, Maiwenn has an unfair advantage with her maternal glow, eh? Eugenie was just telling me on the way here how all this baby talk is kindling longings of her own.”

I choked on my wine.

“I love children too,” Leith told me. “I can't wait to have some—once I find the right woman.”

I was spared more of this when one of Leith's workers came in, anxious over some mishap. Leith looked devastated at the thought of abandoning me—and also embarrassed over me witnessing a flaw in his grand plans. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I hate to leave you. I'm sure this will only take a moment.”

“Actually,” I said, rising. “We should probably get going as well.”

“Must you?” he asked, face falling further.

“I'm sure I'll see you soon.”

“Yes,” agreed Dorian. “You should get moving on that ball. Or maybe I should just throw one for her….”

Leith totally fell for the baiting. “No, no. I would be more than honored to.” He swept me a bow, and I let him kiss my hand. “I'll have news for you soon, I promise.”

I smiled and expressed my thanks and allowed him to kiss my hand
again
when he insisted. As soon as he was gone, I turned on Dorian. “Are you trying to push me into his arms or away?”

“Ironically, doing one causes the other.” He stretched and stifled a yawn. “Were you telling the truth? Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah, I think so—”

“Your majesty?”

Davros stuck his head into the room, wearing his usual apologetic look. His eyes flicked nervously from Dorian to me. “I'm so sorry to bother you…I know you must be busy and…”

“What is it?”

“She's been found, your majesty. The missing girl? Her parents tracked her down last night but were afraid to tell you…she seemed so distraught. I only just found out myself. I told them you'd want to know—”

“Of course, I do.” I was already moving toward the door, Dorian fast on my heels. “Where are they?”

Still bobbing his head in obeisance, Davros hastily led us to a small home on the opposite side from Leith's construction. He beat impatiently on the door. “Open up! The queen is here.”

Almost a minute passed before the door opened. The woman who had accosted me on my first visit peered out, eyes wide. “Your majesty,” she said humbly, inclining her head. She didn't seem to recognize Dorian. “We—we didn't know you were here.”

“I want to see her,” I said impatiently. “Let me talk to her.”

The woman hesitated, fearful of me but also fearful of something else, apparently. Davros was undeterred. “This is the Thorn Queen! Let her in.”

With a gulp, the woman stepped aside. I found myself in a small but clean cottage, dimly lit thanks to all the curtains being drawn, though all the windows were open to allow a breeze. The woman's husband met us as we walked through the kitchen, his face pale and afraid.

“Your majesty…forgive us. We were afraid to tell you. We were afraid she'd run away again.”

“I'm not going to hurt her. I just want to talk to her.” It was a bit depressing, between Ysabel and this family, knowing everyone was terrified of me. Ironically, before I'd known about my gentry heritage, I'd been proud of the fear I inflicted on Otherworldly inhabitants. “Please take me to her.”

I felt Dorian's hand on my shoulder and his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, “You do
not
need to say please.”

With a quick exchange of looks, the couple led us to the back of the cottage, into a tiny bedroom. It too was darkened, and I could make out a slim girl lying on a bed. There was a washcloth on her forehead that fell off when she sat upright at our approach. She cringed against the wall.

“Who is it? I told you I didn't want to see anyone….”

“It's all right, Moria,” said her mother. “This is the queen. She's come to talk to you. She's not going to hurt you.”

The girl wilted even more, blond hair covering half of her face. “No, no…She's come with the others, come with her human blood to bind us and kill us and—”

“Moria,” I said gently, holding my hands out as one would under a white flag. “She's right. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk to you. It won't take long.”

“They all say that,” Moria said, eyes wide with tears. “They all say they won't hurt you…all the humans…you're no different…they all say they aren't….” She lapsed into muttering too low for me to hear, her hands clinging to the covers.

“I think,” Dorian murmured to me, “that her experience has left her…ah, a little touched. I doubt you'll get anything useful from her. There's a healer at Maiwenn's court who's particularly good with sickness of the mind. You should send for her.”

I had a feeling he was right but had to make one more attempt. “I just want to know where you've been. Who took you. I want to make sure it doesn't happen again. Tell me who it is, and I'll stop them.”

“No,” she breathed. “You're the same…the same as him…the Red Snake Man.”

“Red Snake…” I still had demons on the brain, and an image of their red and black mottled skin came to mind. Were they snake-like? “Moria, were you taken by demons? Or some kind of…” Hell, in the Otherworld, any monster you could imagine pretty much existed, as Smokey had shown us. “…um, snake monster?”

She shook her head frantically. “Our own kind don't hurt us. It's only yours…you're all the same…the human blood…all marked the same….” Her eyes left my face and lowered. For a disorienting moment, I thought she was staring at my chest until I realized her gaze was on my arm. I absentmindedly touched the spot. It was where my snake tattoo coiled around my arm. Moria squeezed her eyes shut. “All the same…”

I stiffened. “Did he…are you saying the person who took you had a tattoo like this on his arm?”

“The Red Snake Man,” she whispered, still refusing to open her eyes.

“Did he banish you? Did he force you to this world? Or did you come back on your own?”

“Iron…iron everywhere…”

I stared off at nothing for several seconds. “I'm done,” I said, turning to her parents. “She can rest now.”

I left the house as swiftly as I'd come in, Dorian matching my pace. “What's going on? That meant something to you.”

I nodded, heading toward where Rurik stood with our horses. “I think I know who took her—and maybe the others. Not bandits or a monster. It was a human.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because of the tattoo.”
The Red Snake Man.
I'd seen a red snake tattoo just the other day—on Art. He'd had that on one arm and a raven on the other. “It's another shaman, one who lives very close to where the crossroads around here opens up in my world.” He was also the shaman who had told me to my face he knew nothing about gentry girls. I came to a halt by the horses and absentmindedly stroked the side of mine. She looked back and sniffed me. “But why? Why would he take a gentry girl? Or more than one? His job is to get them out of our world. I could see him banishing them out of the human world….That might traumatize her, but that doesn't sound like what happened. She disappeared from
this
world. She made it sound like she didn't want to be in the human world.”

Dorian snorted. “Eugenie, where in your jaded existence did you pick up this naïveté? If a human took one of our girls, it'd be for the same reason we'd take one of theirs. For the same reason any man would abduct a girl.”

I blanched at his implications. “But more than one?”

“He wouldn't be the first man to prefer—ah, how shall we say it? Variety.”

I couldn't see it of Art, not the Art who happily tended his garden and offered us beer and pop. He'd known Roland for years. They'd worked together. Was Art truly a kidnapper and rapist? Or was the girl just traumatized from being banished? It could be a pretty horrific experience.

I grimaced, feeling a sharp twisting in my stomach. I'd come too close to rape already in my life to treat even a hypothetical situation lightly. Was Moria a victim? Were there others like her out there? Maybe it wasn't truly Art…and yet, her words had dark implications. The human blood. A mark like mine. The Red Snake Man. The crossroads to Yellow River. He had to be involved; I just didn't know how.

I gave the horse one last pat and then mounted. “I have to get home,” I said, turning back to Dorian and Rurik. There was some mistake here, some mix-up. Art wasn't involved in this. He couldn't be, at least not in the way Dorian had suggested. “I have to talk to someone. Immediately.”

I waited for the requisite Dorian joke, but none came as he mounted his own horse. “Then we go different ways. Be careful, Eugenie.” For some reason, frankness and concern from Dorian was more disconcerting than his usual banter.

“If I'm right about this, then it's a human matter. Should be a cakewalk compared to what I deal with around here.”

Dorian shook his head. “I'd have to disagree. Give me demons and restless spirits any day over human deceit. But if you need help, I'm here. Just ask.”

Again, there should have been a joke here. I glanced away, troubled by the way he looked at me. “Thanks. Hopefully it'll be a simple matter.” How exactly? That I didn't know. I wasn't sure that roughing Art up would really accomplish anything—if he truly was at fault here. “See you later, Dorian.”

He nodded by way of a farewell. Then: “And of course, my dear, you may kill as many humans as you like, but please try not to harm any more of my subjects. If you can help it.” There it was, at last. The joke.

“Noted,” I said. I attempted a glare, but there was a smile on my lips as I did.

I set a hard pace back to my castle and the gateway that would bring me back to my own world. Crossing over at the Yellow River one would have been faster, but I needed to go to my home in Tucson and prepare myself before facing Art. Rurik matched my pace easily and mercifully stayed silent. He'd watched me and Dorian together the way a child watches his or her divorced parents, in the hopes that Mommy and Daddy might make amends someday.

My whirling thoughts made the trip go fast—as did the land's quick route today—and we were greeted with a commotion when we reached the castle's outer borders. A group of guards came tearing toward us, and my heart seized. What now? A siege? Demons? Kiyo? Yet as they got closer, I could see that the guards almost looked…enthusiastic.

“Your majesty! My lord! We found her.”

Rurik and I drew our horses to a halt and climbed down. I felt my legs scream and knew I'd be sore later. I wasn't so practiced a rider that I could ride like that without consequences. I ignored the pain and turned to the guards.

“Who?” I demanded.

“We have her. The girl. The runaway girl from Westoria,” said the guard, clearly pleased at his success. Rurik and I exchanged puzzled glances.

“That's impossible. We already saw her.”

The guard shrugged. “We found her out near the steppes, by the Rowan Land border. She matches the description and was clearly afraid of us. She tried to run away.”

“Take me to her,” I said helplessly. Had my guards found another of these kidnapped girls? It would certainly provide more information.

He led us inside toward one of the little-used rooms, explaining that they hadn't wanted to put her in the dungeon—although her fear and desire to escape had required a guard. His expression turned uncomfortable.

“We, um, also had to bind her in iron. She kept attempting magic. They're still not able to fully stop her.”

A guard like this could never handle iron shackles without causing himself intense pain. Sometimes, though, prisoners would be bound in bronze cuffs with a tiny bit of iron affixed to them. It required delicate handling by the captors but was usually enough to stunt the prisoner's magic.

We reached the room, and the men on duty stepped aside for us to enter. There, across the room, a slim young woman had her back to us. Long blond hair cascaded down her back, and I had a weird, disorienting sense for a moment as my brain grappled with the possibility that Moria had somehow made it here before us. Then, as the girl slowly turned around, the torchlight began bringing out glints of red in the golden hair that little Moria hadn't had. I realized what was happening even before I fully saw my prisoner's face.