Dark Swan Bundle (57 page)

Kiyo shifted back to human shape as we approached the castle's main gates. Those guarding it gave me curious looks but welcomed him with cheers and genuine affection. Indeed, the happy energy was palpable as we walked the halls. Everyone in Maiwenn's hold acted as though they were on their way to a party. Smiles shone on everyone's faces.

Kiyo required no escort or guide as he led us swiftly through the halls, up a few flights of stairs, and into Maiwenn's bedroom. As soon as we entered, I decided I might need to have a talk with Shaya about redecorating. The bedroom I'd inherited from Aeson was that of a medieval warlord, with blocky furniture, few windows, and everything—from the thick stone walls to the bedding—in dark, somber colors. Maiwenn's room was light and airy, ringed in windows and filled with exquisite, delicate-looking birch furniture. The sheets on her bed were lavender silk, and gauzy material hung from the canopy. It looked like a room befitting a fairy princess—er, queen.

“Eugenie,” she said, smiling. She was sitting in bed with pillows propped behind her. “I was hoping you'd come.”

Were you
? I wondered. A day after having a baby, she looked as gorgeous as usual, her golden hair cascading over a soft pink nightgown. A delicate crown of pearls, even in bed, adorned that luxurious hair, and I pettily thought again about my alleged need for a crown. Kiyo claimed it would send the wrong message, but I suddenly kind of wanted one. A small bundle was in Maiwenn's arms, but mostly all I could see of Luisa was a lacy white cap and a shock of black hair.

I smiled back and approached tentatively. Had I treated this visit too casually? Should I have dressed up even more than I had and come bearing gold and frankincense? “Congratulations. You must be so happy.”

Maiwenn's smile became even more radiant. She met Kiyo's eyes, and something passed between them—not romantic, exactly, but a strong emotion I wasn't privy to. Maiwenn carefully lifted her blanket-wrapped bundle, and he took it from her with equal gentleness.

“See?” he said, coming to stand beside me. “Isn't she beautiful?”

Beautiful wasn't quite the word I would have used, though Luisa was definitely cute—which was a relief. I'd met people with ugly babies, and in those situations, you almost always had to lie and say the baby was cute. No need for lies now. Luisa was adorable—which was no surprise with her parentage—and indeed, it was obvious whose genes she'd gotten the bulk of. With her black hair and tanned skin, Luisa was clearly her father's daughter.

“Here,” he said, handing her to me before I could stop him.

I hadn't held many babies before, and I took her awkwardly, one arm supporting the length of her body while the other supported her head. She was warm, nearly round with all those blankets, and shifted ever so slightly as she slept. Everything about her was tiny—tiny nose, tiny fingers, tiny eyelashes. A weird feeling built up at the back of my throat, and I remembered my conversation with Dorian. My hips would forever stay slim. My body would never create anything like this. When Luisa briefly opened her eyes to look at me—they were dark blue, no doubt to become brown—I handed her back to her father.

Kiyo took her happily, still wearing that wondrous look on his face, and sat on the edge of the bed. He placed Luisa in Maiwenn's arms, and while there was no more touching than such an act required, I again had that sense of connection between them all. An intangible bond that would keep them together forever.

I wanted to leave after that. I wanted to run from this place and never come back. But, I had to stay because Kiyo wanted me to be a part of this and because it was the polite thing to do for Maiwenn. So I kept that smile frozen on my face and made small talk that I barely heard, like whether Luisa would inherit any kitsune abilities and when Maiwenn should host the celebration of her birth.

At long last, Kiyo said we had to go, and I could tell he only did so for my sake. If he'd had his way, he would have stayed all night. I told Maiwenn congratulations again and assured her of my happiness and the baby's cuteness and a dozen other things new mothers like to hear. Kiyo was full of smiles too, but as soon as we left the room, his faded.

“Was it really that awful?” he asked.

I did a double-take. “What are you talking about? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Eugenie. You were perfect. Everything was perfect. I don't think Maiwenn noticed a thing—but then, she's pretty distracted.” He sighed. “But I know you. I can see you're upset. Are you really still that worried about Maiwenn and me getting back together?”

Maiwenn and him? How could I explain that what I felt went beyond simple jealousy? It wasn't just that I feared the birth of this baby might bring them together—and that
was
a legitimate fear of mine—but Luisa's birth impacted me in so many other ways too. I thought about Kiyo and how much I loved him and wanted as strong a relationship as we could have—but that no matter what happened with us, we could never have a family like that. I worried again if he might cast me aside for my inadequacies. And while I was still a long way from being baby crazy or hearing my biological clock, how awful was it going to be if someday I did want a baby and couldn't have one? Or what if—God help me—I did have a baby through some accident? I could never love it, not with that prophecy hanging over my head….

“It's complicated,” I said, realizing Kiyo was waiting for an answer.

“Eugenie,” he said wearily. “I love you. I love you so much. This isn't going to change that. Maiwenn and I are through as lovers. I will always care about her, and we're going to work together to make sure Luisa's raised with all the love and attention she needs. But
you're
the woman I love, the woman who's my partner and who I want to be with forever.”

His words were sweet, and they did warm part of me up. But he still didn't get the whole picture, didn't understand the tangle of emotions this birth had stirred up in me. It was so hit or miss with Kiyo lately. Some days, I felt like he knew me better than I knew myself. Other days, when it came to the issue of babies—or magic or ruling a kingdom—it was like he didn't get me at all.

“I know,” I said, laying my hand on his. I certainly wasn't going to fight or debate this in the middle of Maiwenn's castle. “Look, it's okay. We'll talk about this later. Right now…well, I can tell you don't really want to go.”

He shook his head. “No, no. I'm coming with you—”

“Kiyo,” I said, unable to help a small smile, “I know you. I saw your face up there. You want to be with Luisa more. And you should. Stay awhile, and I'll just go back myself.”

“Eugenie…” But I could tell I was right.

“It's fine. And I'll be fine. I'm the big bad Thorn Queen, remember? Besides, I want to visit that village we passed.”

He was silent for several seconds. “Where will you be tomorrow? I want to find you.”

“I'm not sure. In the morning I have to be back in Tucson for a job—and to talk to Roland—but after that…” So much kept happening lately that I was always shuffling one problem around for another. I hadn't had the chance to talk to Roland about Art and the Yellow River connection, nor did Kiyo know about the recent developments around that either. Before I could start to explain, Kiyo turned us in an unexpected direction.

“Do you want to go hunting fire demons?”

I regarded him with surprise. “Really?”

“Well, if you've got Jasmine and your new tricks, you've got more of a fighting chance, so I figure you might as well make it a slam dunk and bring me along. You've been wanting to get rid of them, right?”

We'd come to a stop in the hall, and the scenario was eerily parallel to when we'd been in my castle earlier. There was no chastisement or echoes of that argument now, and I was grateful. “Thank you,” I said, leaning toward him. I placed a light kiss on his lips—or at least, I tried to make it light. His hand reached out and grabbed my shoulder, bringing me closer still and intensifying the kiss.

I pulled back, wondering just how weird it would be for a servant to see the father of their queen's child making out with someone else. Of course, among the gentry, that kind of thing was probably pretty typical.

“Go,” I said, stepping back before I was tempted to kiss him again. “Go see your beautiful daughter. We'll talk tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Eugenie.” His face split into one of those wonderful grins. “And thank you for…I don't know. You understand me. I don't think anyone else does.”

I smiled back and then watched him turn around. A few moments later, I turned as well. As I stepped outside into the balmy spring air, I wondered if anyone truly understood me.

The village I'd passed earlier was called Marmant, and I had to get directions from Maiwenn's guards to make sure I didn't accidentally take some twisted Otherworldly path in my attempt to return. I rode there with troubled feelings, still replaying the events with Kiyo and trying to decide if our assorted arguments today had qualified as true fights. I soothed myself a little by reaching out and manipulating the air, creating gusts and eddies and attempting to see how big a blast I could make. At one point, I made a scrubby tree bend pretty far, but it tired me out. I had to practice more to sustain true gale-force winds, and lightning still remained out of my grasp.

The people of Marmant greeted me with that same mix of fear and awe I had come to expect. Word of the changes being wrought in the land was getting around, so they were grateful and allowing themselves optimism at last. Yet, my fearsome reputation always lurked on the horizon, so they spoke gingerly around me, fearful of enraging the dangerous monarch who had forced this dangerous land upon them.

“How is everything?” I asked, hoping I seemed concerned and nonthreatening. Rather than a mayor, this town had a council of five that made decisions, and they'd invited me inside for a private meeting. They were ordinary-looking men and women—still with that peasant feel so common in the Otherworld—but there was an air of competence around them. “You've got water and food now?”

“Yes, your majesty,” said a middle-aged woman who seemed to be the speaker of the group. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“Good. I'm sorry it's been so hard on you. Things should be better now.” There was a brief silence in the group, one heavy with unspoken meaning. I looked from face to face. “What?”

“We don't want to trouble your majesty…”

“Trouble away. It's what I'm here for.”

This got another round of exchanged looks. It was still apparently an odd concept for these people.

“Well,” began the woman, “near the outskirts of our town's boundaries, there have been some attacks.”

“What kind?”

“Bandits, your majesty.”

“Son of a bitch,” I said. We'd known the group had moved, but they'd been quiet thus far, allowing me to hope I could take Kiyo up on his offer and deal with them before they caused more trouble.

“We actually have many fighters and strong magic users,” she said with some pride. “But we could not stand against their monsters.”

“You mean demons.”

She gave a nervous nod.

“Son of a bitch,” I said again. This
had
to be dealt with, and at this point, I really was willing to be a bastard and hold a gun to Jasmine's head. “Don't worry. They're going to be taken care of. Soon. Very soon.”

The woman looked startled at the menacing tone in my voice, but her words were grateful. “Thank you, your majesty.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

This time, it was a man who spoke up. “We don't want to trouble you…”

I groaned. “Just tell me what it is.”

“We heard your majesty has been seeking missing girls.”

I straightened up. “Yes. What about it?”

“One of ours disappeared two days ago. My neighbor's daughter, Markelle.” A small, wry smile crossed his lips. “She's a wild one, often wandering off where she shouldn't. But she hasn't come back…and she always does….”

I felt my fists clenching and forcibly relaxed them. I didn't need to scare these people any further. “Aside from the bandits, have you seen anyone else lurking around? Humans, maybe?”

He seemed even more afraid to discuss this topic. “We see humans sometimes, your majesty.” I think he thought mentioning my own kind would anger me. “It's not uncommon. Often there are humans who…ah, give chase to some of the denizens of this world.” Shamans like me, he meant. “Usually, they leave us alone once they've found their quarry.”

I thought back to Jasmine. “Any soldiers or warriors of the gent—shining ones?”

“Occasionally. I presume they're deserters from King Aeson.” Not a bad theory, actually. “But we see none of them regularly. There's no one in particular who keeps returning.”

I leaned forward, some part of me feeling like everything was about to fall together. “But there is a human you keep seeing, isn't there? Especially since the girls began disappearing?”

He nodded.

It was here. Everything was here. “A man, right? A man with a red snake tattoo?”

“No, your majesty.”

“I—what?” I froze for a moment. “Then who?”

“A woman, your majesty. A woman with graying hair that she wears in a long braid.”

I stared at him for several seconds, and then I laughed. This seemed to scare them all more than if I had burst into a rage.

“Abigail,” I said at last, more to myself than them.

“Your majesty?”

I waved a hand at them. “Never mind.”

Abigail. Fucking Abigail
and
Art. Working together to…what? Abduct gentry girls? But why? I'd toyed with the idea of Art as some kind of sick rapist, but where did Abigail fit in with this? Surely that would hold no interest for her. With a sigh, I pushed the questions to a small box in my mind, needing to wrap this up and get back to the human world. I needed to have that talk with Roland.

“Anything else going on I need to know about? You've got copper nearby, right?” Finding water and food was naturally essential, but it was copper that was going to truly change things in the Thorn Land. It was what all our trade agreements were being based on. “How's the extraction going?”

“Slowly until today, your majesty,” the woman admitted. “Our magic users are skilled in many things, but we have few who can work with metal. Much of our labor has been manual.”

I frowned. “Why did things change today?”

“Why,” she said in surprise, “because you sent the Oak King to us.”

“The Oak—wait. You mean Dorian?” I exclaimed. “He's not here now, is he?”

They were all clearly surprised at my surprise. “Yes, your majesty,” said the guy who'd spoken earlier. “He's out with the workers now. I thought you knew.”

I stood up, still full of shock. “I have to see him. Excuse me.”

They all murmured polite farewells and nearly knocked each other over with bows. I didn't stick around to return the formality. Instead, I headed back out into the bright afternoon sun, lightly jogging to where I'd seen the workers on the far side of the village. At first, I saw no indication of Dorian. Men and a few women were digging diligently, sweat rolling down their faces.

Then, suddenly, I heard a slight rumbling, and the ground trembled. Huge chunks of rock rose from the earth, a few of them glinting in the sunlight. They lifted in a cluster and then slowly drifted off to the side of the work site, gently coming to rest on a pile of similar stones. Turning, I looked to the opposite side of the area and finally found Dorian, his hands moving in the air as he guided the ore. His clothes were simple today, but that hair burned and rippled in the sunshine like liquid fire.

His face was filled with concentration as he watched the rocks, but once they'd come to a halt, he broke into a smile as he strode forward. “My lady Thorn Queen, what a delight.”

I let him kiss my hand for the sake of appearances—seriously, why were the gentry so into that?—and then pulled him out of earshot of the others. “What the hell are you doing here?” I exclaimed.

“Why, retrieving my copper.”

“That's not what I mean!” He shrugged and wiped sweat off his brow. His devil-may-care expression aside, it was clear he was tired. I grabbed hold of his arm and led him back toward the town. “Come on, get something to drink before you get dehydrated. And start explaining.”

“I heard there was some difficulty with your copper, and I decided to come help, seeing as it benefits me too. My sword is in need of replacement, you know—and that's not a metaphor. The metaphorical one is just fine. Besides, you don't honestly think I can let you take all the glory as being the most helpful monarch around, do you? You're making us all look bad.”

“Dorian,” I groaned. Because there was really no other response.

If people had fallen all over me when I arrived, the two of us together created quite the stir. Again, I was reminded of some celebrity tabloid couple. We returned to the council hall, at which point I used my queenly authority to get some privacy and some refreshment. It was a bit startling to see how quickly my orders were obeyed.

Once we were alone and Dorian was sprawled in a chair, I truly got a good look at just how exhausted he was. “How long have you been out there doing this?” I asked, pouring him water from a pitcher.

“Most of the day. And I'll take the wine, my dear.” He nodded toward a nearby decanter.

“It'll dehydrate you further,” I scolded, handing him the cup of water. He scowled but drank it down eagerly. I watched him, still perplexed. “But why? You don't need the copper that badly.”

“Perhaps not. But you do.” He finished the water, and I gave him a refill. “Thank you. Waited on by a queen—truly the dream of many a man.”

I pulled over a chair of my own. “You didn't need to do it,” I protested. “You've practically killed yourself.”

“Hardly. Give me and my stamina some credit.”

“I still don't get it.”

He finished this cup too and then gave me a look that was both exasperated and amused. “Eugenie, why do you keep having such a hard time believing I'd do things for you?”

There was earnestness in his voice, and I realized we kept having this conversation over and over. Out of everyone in my life lately, it seemed like he was the only reliable one. “I don't know why. I'm sorry. I just run into few people who give something for nothing. Mining isn't going to get me into your bed.”

“Well,” he said cheerfully, “nobody knows that for sure, but even if not? It doesn't matter. You need it. It makes you happy. End of story.”

I looked away. Dorian truly was my friend. “Thank you. It does make me happy. One less thing in a sea of problems today.”

He handed me the cup. “Get me wine this time, and tell me what your problems are. You can even sit on my lap.”

“No thanks,” I said, but I did get him the wine.

“I saw you and the kitsune pass earlier, actually. Is that part of your problem?” He answered his own question. “Yes, yes. Of course it is.”

I was a bit surprised to hear myself pouring my thoughts out to him again. I didn't even have the excuse of being drunk this time. “I saw the baby today.”

“Cute?”

“Very. And it just made me feel…I don't know. Kiyo thinks it's jealousy, but it's more than that. I just can't explain it.”

“Kind of a questioning of your own life and the choices—or lack thereof—before you?”

I looked up, startled, and met his eyes. They were unusually serious. “Yes, exactly.” Dorian remained silent, and I found myself rambling more. “He's having a hard time getting all of it lately—the magic, the girls, the demons…he doesn't like me spending time over here. Neither does Roland.” I couldn't help a smile. “Hell, neither do I. But…I have to. I have to put things right around here.”

“I know you do,” he said, face serious.

“Dorian…what would happen if I got a crown?”

This made him a smile a little. “It would make you look even more beautiful.”

“No, I'm serious. Kiyo says it's a bad idea. That it would make all this real.”

“It's already about as real as it's going to get, my dear.”

“That's what I told him! But I don't get the big deal. You never wear a crown.”

“Not often. But I have one, and I was crowned and all my people swore fealty to me. That's what a crown would lead to. You want one for ornamentation? Sure, that's easy. But put one on and walk out among your people—especially in a city like Highmore—and say, ‘This is who I am, I am your queen…' Well, that's what the kitsune fears. You're already queen. No crown can affect that. But you accepting one and declaring your authority is when
you
truly believe you're a queen. And as far as Kiyo is concerned, that's where the danger is.”

“Wow,” I said, nearly as surprised to have such a thorough explanation from him as I was by the content itself. “Are you afraid of it?”

He snorted. “Hardly. I don't need a crown to know you're a queen. It radiates off of you. But I would like for
you
to know you're a queen.”

If dealing with all the crap I had on my plate didn't make me think I was a queen, then I didn't really know what else would. I let the crown issue go and instead recapped my latest intel about the bandits and Abigail. “I can't figure out her role here. You mentioned before that Art's motives would be…uh, understandable. But why her? Unless she's just enough of a pal to help him score some gentry action.”