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Grieve and Chatter didn’t want to ride in the car. Along with a few guards, they would meet us at Rex’s alone. So I drove, with Rhia riding shotgun. Kaylin, Peyton, and Luna sat in the back. As I navigated the streets, it occurred to me that in a few days, this—driving—might be a thing of the past. Lainule said that after the initiation, I’d be learning to travel like the Fae. Apparently, there were ways of allowing half-bloods to use some of the full-blood powers.
“Why so solemn?” Luna asked, looking over at me.
I shrugged. “Just thinking.”
I should be happy. I should be thrilled. Didn’t every little girl want to be a princess? And didn’t every little girl long for a happily-ever-after with her Prince Charming? Then why was I on the verge of tears? I blinked them away, and then, shrugging, I forced a smile.
“Peyton, what did Rex say when you told him we were going to converge on his house for brunch?”
She laughed. “He said as long as we chip in for the groceries, he’ll cook.”
“How’s his leg doing?” Rhia asked.
Rex had been injured in a major skirmish with the Shadow Hunters. One of them had taken a chunk of flesh out of his leg, and without us he would have bled to death, if the Vampiric Fae hadn’t finished him off first. He was on crutches but healing up fairly quickly. Luckily there was no infection—Weres weren’t prone to them. But the wound had been bad, and he wouldn’t be fully back in action for a while.
“He’ll be off the crutches in a day or so—being a werepuma has its benefits, but he’ll probably have a limp for months. At least he lives in a security building.” She frowned, jabbing her thumb into her knee. After a moment, she let out a huff. “Mother called me yesterday.”
The car fell silent.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Rhia cleared her throat and turned around to stare at her. I had to keep my eyes on the road, but I peeked in the rearview mirror. Peyton didn’t look all that happy. I pressed my lips together, waiting. Anadey had tried to kill me. I didn’t have much empathy for the woman.
“She apologized. She was in tears. I told her to fuck off. She begged me to call her when I’ve had a chance to cool down.” Her throat sounded clogged, and I could hear the tears close to the surface, though Peyton prided herself on being the stoic type.
“Cool down? After what she did to me? What she tried to do to your father?” I shook my head. “That’s a lot to push to the side.”
Peyton glanced at me through the mirror, giving me a sharp nod. “That’s what I told her.”
We were outside Rex’s apartment building, and the Cambyra guards were there on the street, waiting next to Grieve and Chatter. It seemed odd to see them in the middle of the town, on the sidewalk, during the day. They had changed their outfits to mirror more of a military getup—cargo pants, button-down shirts…but there was no mistaking them for the magic-born or for yummanii.
We tumbled out of the car. Silently, Peyton led us to the entrance, where she punched the intercom button, spoke to Rex, and opened the door when the buzzer sounded. Half of the guards followed us in.
Rex lived on the sixth floor and so we took the elevator, while three of the guards took the stairs, scoping them out. I wondered if this was how it was always going to be—always being on the lookout for enemies. When—if—we defeated Myst, would there be another force on the horizon looking to take over?
The building was relatively new, and nice. The walls were a muted sage green, with white ceilings and soft hunter green carpets. Rex must have been watching out the peephole, because as we stopped en masse in front of his door, it swung open, and a sturdy, tall man with a ponytail that reached his butt and a grizzled scruff of a beard stood back to let us in.
“Baby girl!” Rex propped his crutches against the wall, opened his arms and Peyton fell into them, hugging him tightly.
“Daddy.” She smiled up at him—it had been only a couple of weeks since he had returned to her life. They had a lot of making up for lost time to do.
“You know where the remote is, Peyton.” He gestured to the living room. “Let me get the food. Luna, would you help me?” He nodded for her to follow him into the kitchen. Luna’s relationship with her family was more distant than strained; Rex seemed to sense her need to be included.
The apartment was still relatively unadorned. Rex had just moved in, and he had arrived with only a couple of suitcases and a backpack. Everything in the room had that new feeling, though it looked new from the thrift shops rather than from a department store. Utilitarian, the furniture was a mishmash of patterns, but it served its purpose and Rex seemed content.
We settled on the sofa and floor surrounding the TV, and Peyton tuned it to the local news channel. Grieve and Chatter stared at the screen, shaking their heads. Neither was comfortable around technology, and neither understood the appeal of TV. The guards had stationed themselves outside the door once they ascertained the apartment was safe.>I circled higher, almost dizzy with the joy of no longer being soil-bound. After making several laps over the tops of the trees, I straightened and headed toward the deeper part of the forest, intoxicated by the freedom. Ulean was beside me, catching my mood, shrieking with laughter as she slipped beneath me, causing me to rise even farther. I responded, going into a nosedive, pulling up as she rushed in front of me. She leapfrogged behind me, and I made another dive beneath her wake. I couldn’t see Ulean, not unless I was dreamwalking with Kaylin, or when I was in the grips of the winds. But I could feel her, sense her presence, hear her on the slipstream.
We played tag, turning, wheeling through the air, caught up in the freedom that only flight can bring. In the past few weeks, the most precious thing in my life had gone from being my Pontiac GTO to discovering my ability to shift into an owl.
As much as I loved Grieve, as thrilled as I was to meet my father after all these years, nothing could quite compare with the rush and freedom of turning into an owl, of escaping the earth and leaving all my problems behind, even if it was for only a little while. I’d never before had anything remotely resembling the freedom that shifting shape brought to me. There were times when I enjoyed the change so much, when it felt so natural, that I wanted to just stay that way—fly off and never look back—but I couldn’t do that.
As the sun rose, here in the realm of Summer, I regretfully turned back to the tree where I’d shifted. Another few moments and it came into view. There was Check, standing below, waiting at attention. I screeched loudly, then slowly circled lower, taking care not to buzz him, until I landed on a fallen trunk nearby. As I began to shift back, I slipped, nosediving for the ground. I still hadn’t mastered a graceful return to myself—Check bounded forward and caught me, his arms lifting me before I could hit the ground.
Before I could say thank you, he draped the robe around my shoulders and then, with a flourish, said, “May I escort you back to the palace, Your Highness?”
He was so heartfelt, so gentle and yet so protective, that I couldn’t help but give him a graceful smile. “You may.” And so we returned to the Barrow, my need to fly assuaged for the moment.
Grieve sat up, yawning, as I padded across the cobbled floor to where Druise, my maid, was waiting. She was trained to obey, and she would have stood there all day if I had told her to. As I stepped into the steaming bath she’d prepared, she quickly moved forward to wash my back. I started to wave her away, but the chagrined expression on her face stopped me. This was her job. This was what she did. If I refused her help, I negated her worth.
I wanted to linger in the bath, but we had to get over to Rex’s place to watch the announcement that Regina had instructed us to. So after I’d lathered up and let Druise wash my back, I stepped into the towel she was holding and she wrapped me in the soft, warm fleece. I wasn’t sure what material it actually was made from. The cloth felt like terry cloth, but I knew it wasn’t.
