Desert Tales (13 page)

“For now. If I'm strong enough—”

“You are beyond strong, but you're not cruel enough, princess,” Sionnach interrupted.

“You underestimate me, Shy. I think I'm quite able to be cruel.”

“Are you sure enough to risk all of our safety on that belief?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped. “Fine. I won't go looking for trouble. Yet.”

“Good.” Then the fierce faery who had just convinced Rika she was strong enough to be Alpha, yet also convinced her to bow to his wishes, fastened his gaze on Jayce. It wasn't an entirely friendly look. “There's a salve I brought for Jayce, Rika.”

She stilled, her entire body tight and tense, but her voice sounded calm as she said, “There are rules, Shy.”

“None higher than us out here,” he countered. “He's no use to me if he's unable to see what's around him.”

“Right here, Sionnach,” Jayce interjected. “And being of use to you isn't my top priority.” He glanced at Rika, who looked increasingly nervous. “What's the salve for?”

“Seeing,” she whispered.

Jayce waited, knowing that there was obviously more to it than what she'd said. He knew that faeries could be invisible to humans and were inaudible when they couldn't be seen. So, the obvious meaning was that the salve would let him see them. When neither of them spoke further, he prompted, “
And?
”

Sionnach waved his hand, earning a glare from Rika.

“Giving a mortal the Sight is not something we're to do,” she said in a shaky voice as she stood and walked over to Jayce. “It's risky for mortals too. Some of the courts take mortals who can see them, those born with the Sight. Others just take the mortals' eyes.”

Jayce wrapped an arm around her, but didn't answer. He wasn't sure he was ready for that particular risk, but he would rather discuss it away from Sionnach.

When Jayce didn't reply to Rika's words on the Sight, Sionnach suggested, “Why don't you two go do something more fun? All this maudlin business isn't particular romantic.”

Jayce shrugged and said, “Call if you need us.”

Sionnach held Jayce's gaze. “I do need you both.”

“For now, we're both here,” Jayce agreed mildly. He wasn't committing to anything more than that. He liked Rika, but he didn't trust Sionnach or know how he felt about a path that included being a potential target for faeries who were willing to cut up people's eyes.

“I still get to be the one to knock the arrogance out of her,” Rika interjected.

Jayce answered even though she had been talking to Sionnach. “You're the only one able to. I'm human, and
he's
obviously not tough enough—”

Sionnach's bark of laughter stilled Jayce's words. “I might like you, Jayce.” Then he gave Rika a very serious look. “It would be a joy to watch you explain the error of her ways when the time is right.”

“Soon,” Rika added. “You'll be well soon and then—”

“And then we'll remind her that the most dangerous faery in the desert is you. . . . Now that you aren't in seclusion.”

Jayce shivered at the way Sionnach smiled at them as they left the cave. The injured faery was clearly manipulative, but Rika seemed oblivious to it and Jayce wasn't entirely sure he objected. Whatever Sionnach's endgame was, for now he'd manipulated things so that Jayce was with the most interesting girl he'd ever met. It was hard to object to that.

C
HAPTER
15

Rika wished she could have talked to Sionnach without Jayce there, but she admitted to herself that she wouldn't have felt the need to confront Sionnach without her mortal boyfriend's influence. He saw Sionnach without the filter of friendship and gratitude, and in doing so, he enabled her to see the fox faery more truly. While she might have been able to understand objectively that Sionnach was impish and unreliable in his way, she also trusted him as she'd trusted no one else in her life. She saw some of his flaws, but tended to overlook many of them.

She and Jayce followed the passageway to the room with her murals. They both kept art supplies in the chamber now. There were easels and wooden crates with jars of paints nestled in straw. She'd only ever let Sionnach and Jayce into this room, and only Jayce had slept there. Quietly, they both rolled out their sleeping bags.

“We could stay in the room where Sionnach is,” Jayce offered quietly. “If you need to hear him so you can take care of him, I mean.”

“I can hear him just fine from here.” Rika ducked her head, bashful even now. “And I wanted to be with only you.”

Jayce kissed her and then said, “I like that plan.”

“You don't have to use the salve,” she said gently, moving away from him and not meeting his eyes. “They—
we
—aren't all good. Seeing them is dangerous, so you might be safer without the Sight.”

Her words skirted near enough to a lie that she felt them like physical things rolling over her tongue.
Was he safer?
Maili had already stabbed Sionnach, and she'd shoved Jayce off a cliff. Maili was just one faery, though. If the court fey knew of a mortal with the Sight, they might come looking for him.

The Summer Queen had the Sight when she was mortal.

Rika didn't know if the new queen's mortal life would change how things were done, and even so, she was one faery regent in a world of centuries-old creatures with traditions even older than they were. She stared at Jayce, struggling with what and how to tell him without making herself sound like a monster too.

He stepped closer to her, reached out, and stroked her face. “I'll do it. I can pretend not to see them if I have to. It makes it easier on you if I can see threats near me, right?”

She nodded.

“Tomorrow then.” He wrapped his arms around her. He comforted her, erased her nervousness, and it took but a moment.

Rika motioned toward a blank section of the cave and offered, “You could do one of the open spots if you wanted.”

“I'd feel weird defacing—” He stopped himself. “Not that what
you
did was . . . I mean—”

“I've lived here for a
very
long time. I didn't have access to many other supplies when I came here. Most faeries can't create art.” She shrugged, trying not to make too much of her difference even though it was something that filled her with pride.

“Why can you create?”

“Because I used to be human, I guess.” She looked at the bit of the wall visible in the firelight. “I don't know what I'd have done without my art.”

He stepped away from the sleeping bag and stood nearer to her, his gaze taking in the portraits on the wall. Miners and farmers stared back at them as if the past could look into the present. Buildings filled the spaces around them; most were ones that had long since fallen under the weight of time and nature. “What was it like here? When you came?”

“Emptier. There were some humans here already, but the others that came and built small mortal towns were often violent.” She thought about other faces and places long gone, of a home she'd known on another continent, of other towns that she'd visited before the desert. There she'd felt too crowded by the mortals that she was no longer like. Here in the desert, she'd discovered open spaces. Even so, the people had frightened her. She admitted, “Some of the people who came here were interesting for a heartbeat or two, but I stayed in the cave a lot.”

“And the faeries?”

“Those too weak to survive the growing winter out in the rest of the world or trying to escape notice or hoping for autonomy . . . they came here.” She gave him a wry smile. “Much like the mortals, I suppose—seeking freedom, power, or escape.”

He didn't comment, waiting in that way of his that made her want to keep talking, that made her think that her words were interesting.

“Much like me, too,” she confessed.

“Which were you seeking?”

“Probably all of it—freedom, power, and escape.” She nestled closer to him, thinking to herself that she still sought escape and freedom, but now she sought it in Jayce's arms. When she'd started dating him, when he had looked at her and seen her, she'd thought she could have everything she wanted with him. Tonight, though, thinking about Maili had made her accept that she hadn't been truthful with herself for a long time. Quietly, she told him, “I didn't admit that I wanted power back then. I didn't need to because Shy had the power, and he was no threat to me.”

“And now?” he prompted, and she realized that he
knew
. He had seen her confrontation with Sionnach, a fight that could've easily become a challenge for Alpha.

“Now I need to keep Maili from having power and keep Keenan from messing with my freedom.”

 

Rika needed to go out into the desert and let the faeries see her. Since Sionnach wasn't up to it, they'd decided that she needed to be the reminder that there were faeries stronger than Maili. That meant leaving Jayce behind for his safety. Walking through the desert had always helped clear Rika's mind, but she now felt strangely off-kilter being alone. Being with Jayce and Sionnach lately had reminded her that she used to like being around others. Years ago, the solitary life she'd led when she first became fey had been hard, more so because she'd never been on her own until then, even
more
so because she'd wanted to be with Keenan in the throng of frolicking faeries that made up the Summer Court. Over time, though, she'd grown accustomed to isolation and to the quiet that came with being the Winter Girl, but she'd never
chosen
that life. She admitted now that choosing to be alone in the desert may have been a way to protect herself from the devastation that she'd felt when her loneliness had been beyond her control. If one chose to be alone, it was easier than being forced into it—at least that was what she'd told herself.

As she walked, she saw humans scaling the rocks. In the desert, climbers were as common as coyotes. They were part of the landscape. Mortals from all over came to the Mojave to climb and to hike. She'd learned not to notice them overmuch. These mortals were surrounded by faeries though, and she couldn't help but think of how Jayce had fallen.

In a blur of motion, she ran toward them. “Back off.”

The mortals, of course, didn't react: this time, she'd remembered to stay invisible.

A faery who looked very much like a barrel cactus, squat and whisker-covered, stepped into her path. “Since when is it your business what we do?”

“Since I decided it was.”

In a nearby crevice in the rock, Maili watched. Rika opted not to look her way yet since she had, in essence, promised Sionnach that she'd not go looking for trouble. She was doing as she'd agreed, but if Maili began a confrontation, Rika would have to respond. No one could expect anything different.

Instead of answering, one of the faeries shoved a human. It wasn't a true attack; the boy was low enough to the ground that it wasn't much of a fall. At most, the boy would be bruised and scraped.

“Don't. Do. That.” Rika bit off each word, but she didn't strike anyone. She still wanted Sionnach to be the Alpha here. Meting out physical punishments was an Alpha's obligation and right, not hers. Unless she was the Alpha, all Rika was rightly able to do was respond to aggression.

“You shouldn't meddle,” Maili said as she stepped out of her hiding place. In her hands were manacles, and since she wore leather gloves that stretched up to her elbows to protect her from the metal, Rika knew that the restraints were fashioned of steel or iron.

The air became heavy with dust, impairing her vision. She shook her head and blinked against the dust. “Your inability to fight fair is embarrassing.”

As she clambered up the rocks, she saw the source of the dust: a pair of faeries tossed sand into the air while another with balloon-ish cheeks exhaled in big gasps. From behind her another faery tackled her, piercing her skin with the thin needles that covered him. She pulled her knee up hard, and when his grip loosened, she slammed her head into his face.

Several more faeries launched themselves toward the fight immediately. At least two were those she'd often seen at Maili's side, ones she'd fought a few weeks ago in town. Two others, one male and one female, also jumped into the fray.

Rika wasn't fragile, but her odds were slim against six faeries during a dust storm. Still, she wasn't going to accept defeat easily. She kicked the leg of one of the largest faeries, snapping his knee backward, and headbutted another one of those not covered in thorns.

After only a few moments, though, she was overwhelmed. Between the sand blinding her and the sheer number of them, Maili's group of faeries had her pinned to the ground. Quickly, Maili snapped the manacles closed on Rika's ankles and then her wrists.

As soon as Maili had the restraints in place, she stepped back, and the other faeries started releasing Rika.

She promptly smashed her bound hands into another faery's face. She fell back to the ground, and at the same time, she kicked her legs up and yanked another faery down with her feet. She might be down, but that didn't mean she was done fighting.

“Stop!” Maili snarled as she snatched hold of Rika and jerked her to her feet with the manacles that now bound Rika's wrists.

Rika slammed her head upward as hard as she could, catching Maili under the chin.

“I said
stop
!” Maili wrenched the chain downward, causing Rika to stumble.

It took concentration not to wince from the metal burning her skin or to fall from the limited movement still allowed by her bound ankles. Rika shook her hair out of her face, dabbed at her bleeding mouth with her upper arm, and stared directly at Maili. “You get stupider by the week.”

The other faeries shuffled nervously.

“I told Shy I wouldn't attack you.” Rika kept her voice almost conversational as she took a somewhat steady step toward Maili.

Foolishly, Maili didn't back up. The others, however, did.

“Do you honestly think I'll forgive this?” Rika asked.

Maili still didn't move.

“You shouldn't get involved,” Rika said, looking briefly at the other faeries, hoping that they had the sense to leave. She could still take Maili, but not all of them, especially not bound. She kept her voice level and said, “Stop backing her, and I'll forgive you. I understand boredom.”

No one spoke, but they grew even more still, a thing Rika wouldn't have thought possible many years ago.

“If you cross me, if you cross Shy,” Rika continued hopefully, “you won't be staying in my desert much longer.”

At that, Maili laughed.
“Your desert?”

“Mine,” Rika reiterated.

Maili made a disgusted sound—and shoved a syringe into Rika's arm.

 

When Rika woke, manacles still restrained her. Her wrists were red, and one was bleeding from her resisting even while only semiconscious. She looked around and realized that she was in an alley. Several rusted fire escapes jutted out from the buildings, and she was now suspended from one of them. Her feet dangled down to brush the ground, but she had very little slack in the chains.

“Are you blind?” Maili's voice drew her attention. The faery who'd trapped her was sitting on a wooden crate out of reach. In her hand she held the end of a cord that was attached to the chains holding Rika. “
Shy
is playing you.”

Rika ignored the attempt at conversation and tugged her arms forward, causing her wrist to bleed more freely. “This is stupid—even for you.”

“Do you think he's any different than the Summer King? They both use their charms to make you pliable.” Maili jerked on the cord, pulling the chain taut. The steel cuffs jerked Rika's arms back over her head. “At his request, I
helped
him push you toward the mortal.”

“
What?
Why?” Rika stared at Maili, trying to understand why the faery would entrap her and tell her such things. She hadn't expected to be killed or any such thing. Murder was extreme for faeries, even one so unstable as Maili. Extended torture wasn't unheard of; some courts thrived on such things. Being captured to
talk
, however, was peculiar.

When Maili said nothing else, Rika said, “Why would he do that?”

Maili's arrogant expression vanished, but then quickly returned. “What difference does it make?”

“You don't
know
why.” Rika felt a surge of relief at that. Unfortunately, she also felt a burst of worry. Faeries couldn't lie outright, so Maili had known something Rika hadn't known.
Why would Shy push me toward Jayce?
It didn't make sense.

It also wasn't her primary problem just then. She focused her attention on Maili, but studied her surroundings casually too. There weren't any faeries nearby to help Rika, and Maili was too far away to attack—plus there was the matter of the steel restraints that were currently searing Rika's skin.

Maili seemed lost in her thoughts too. She scowled briefly and then said, “He misled you. He treats us different now. Making new rules. Trying to control us. Solitaries don't do that. His being Alpha doesn't mean he's a king.”