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I sucked in a deep breath. “I know you told Trillian that I married Smoky and Morio because you wanted to try to break us up, but it won’t work. I love Trillian. He’s my alpha lover and he’s willing to undergo the Soul Symbiont ritual with us. So yes, he will be my third—and, I sincerely hope, last—husband. Let it go, it’s a done deal, it’s going to happen, and there’s nothing you can say to change it. I should have never left him in the first place.”
Trillian wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “And I should have never let you go. We’re fated to be together, and there’s nothing you can do when the Hags take an interest in your life.”
Father looked us up and down and then, sounding the most human I’d ever heard, uttered one word. “Crap.”
I sputtered. “Excuse me, but shouldn’t that be congratulations ?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Trillian said, making it worse. “Maybe you can come visit us Earthside and we’ll take in a few holes of golf.”
Sephreh blinked. Without another word, he marched over, kissed me on the forehead, shook his head disgustedly at Trillian, then stomped off. But as he climbed in the carriage, he turned to wave good-bye and he was smiling.
Trillian kissed my cheek. “I think he’s coming around. We’ll be best buddies in no time.”
“You wish,” I muttered. “Come on, I’ve got an audience with the King.”
“As do I,” Morio said, coming up behind us. Iris was nowhere in sight.
“What?” I twirled.
“A messenger found me in the marketplace and told me to join you in the throne room.” He held up a cloth bag. “I found some fascinating spell components there.”
“Come on, woman.” Trillian gave me a little shove forward. “We’d better get our butts in gear.”
He led us through the maze of gardens toward the central tent. As we passed close to the cloth panels, the material brushed against my arm. Basket weave, it was durable, and yet finely crafted.
“What’s this made of?” I reached out to touch the panel. Soft under my fingers, it tingled with a faint buzz. “There’s magic woven into the cloth.”
“You think?” Trillian arched his eyebrows. “These are the walls of the palace. Unlike stone or mortar or brick or marble, cloth isn’t quite as effective in stopping little things like cannons or fireballs. Of course the material is enchanted. The tents that make up the palace have protective energy woven into every strand, every thread.”
And then we were at the door leading into the throne room. Trillian stood to the side, waiting for us outside as one of the Dahns guards led us on. We followed the unicorn, who looked dangerously large and powerful, up the cobbled path that separated twin courts cushioned with moss and an occasional stone bench. The walls of the tent were a good twenty feet high, held up by an intricate system of cross-bars and I wondered how the unicorns had erected them.
Then, I saw exactly how they had managed the task. Around the perimeter, manning the guylines and counterweights, stood several large centaurs. Male centaurs. Very well-endowed centaurs. Suddenly blushing, I looked away. I didn’t need any new fantasy fodder—I had plenty of it in reality, but man, oh man, the women of their race had a lot to be thankful for.
We followed the guard along the path until we came to a large grass-covered knoll. Atop the knoll rested the King of the Dahns Unicorns. I could see the resemblance between him and his son and as I knelt into a low curtsy a whinny to my left caught my attention. I raised my head and saw Feddrah-Dahns enter the courtyard. He lumbered over toward us and, without thinking, I leapt up and went racing across the grass, laughing.
“Feddrah-Dahns! It’s so good to see you again!” I threw my arms around his neck and his velvet coat tickled my skin.
He let out a snort, then a soft chuckle. “Lady Camille, it’s good to see you again. How fare you and your sisters?”
I suddenly realized that I’d turned my back on the King and quickly stumbled back a few steps, whirling to face the larger unicorn. Feddrah-Dahns wasn’t fully grown, that much was evident, but his father was, and the sire was staring at me with a look of amusement in his eyes.
“You were right,” King Upala-Dahns said to his son. “She’s impulsive and unpredictable. But also charming, as you said.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “I meant no disrespect. I was just so happy to see your son again—”
“No matter, nothing harmed. Not even my sensibilities,” the King said in Melosealfôr. Switching back to the common tongue, he included Trillian and Morio in his gaze. “We must talk about the unicorn horn. And about the magic you are learning from this young fox.”
Morio looked confused.
“Excuse me, Your Highness, but Morio doesn’t speak any of the Otherworld dialects. Do you, by chance, speak English?” I couldn’t fathom why the King of the Dahns Unicorns would have bothered to learn an Earthside language, so it was a real shot in the dark.
King Upala-Dahns whinnied softly. “Yes, to some degree. William Butler taught us when he stayed with us for several years.”
I smiled softly. “Yes, Feddrah-Dahns and Mistletoe explained about him when they visited Earthside.” Glancing around, I added, “Speaking of pixies, is Mistletoe around? I’d like to say hello to him.” One of the few pixies I could ever imagine liking, he was Feddrah-Dahns’s assistant.
“He’s off on an errand, but he should be back soon.” As the King switched to English, his voice took on an archaic air. “We haven’t much time, so I’ll be brief.” He paused. “Are you understanding me now?” he asked Morio.
Morio nodded. “Clear as a bell.”
