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Chapter 4
The inner halls of the palace were earthy, reminding me of Queen Asteria’s palace, with tree roots winding their way through the walls and sparkling crystals jutting through the soil. The dirt was so compact and smoothed over that it looked like Venetian plaster, and the chambers were lit by a glimmering luminescence, a pale light that might have been green, might have been white, filled with sparkles that danced like electric synapses.
Members of the court—probably servants—quietly passed by, some carrying bowls of fruit or trays of bread, others carrying notebooks and clipboards. One, in an odd juxtaposition, rushed by, a short sword in one hand, a net-book in the other. I wondered just how they were powering it and if it had Wi-Fi. But everything all fit, somehow, this new emergence of the Earthside Fae into human society.
I motioned to one of the guards. “We need to speak with Queen Aeval.”
He raised his eyebrows, but kinked his finger and motioned for us to follow him. “I assume you don’t have an appointment?”
“No, but she’s going to want to hear what we have to say. I’m Camille D’Artigo and this is my sister Delilah. If you could announce us . . .”
We followed him down the hall, turned left, and entered a small chamber, where the smell of earth mingled with the scent of white roses and bayberry and wintergreen. A small potted tree sat in the corner, covered with miniature eye catchers that shimmered in pink, blue, green, and yellow.
A true Yule tree, I thought, as magical as the origin of the tradition. We took our seats on an upholstered bench covered in a swirling paisley. A print of a Monet hung on the wall over our heads, and on the opposite wall, a tribal mask that looked dryadic in origin.
“Wait here,” the guard said, and disappeared through the door to the left. I stood up and took a closer look at the mask while waiting. The base was wood, with crystals and dried flowers adorning it. Beautiful, almost ephemeral in nature, but yet the energy was so grounded I could imagine the mask lasting a thousand years. My fingers itched and I realized it had been a good two or three years since I’d thought about the hobbies I’d left at home. Menolly was the singer of the family; Delilah had her stable of animals at home. I’d spent hours in the gardens—first by necessity and then out of love—pottering around with plants, communing with their spirits and the energy of the ground itself.
To be a Moon Witch meant you had to come to a connection with the Great Mother first—for the Earth and Moon were sisters and connected.
“I envy Iris,” I said, turning to Delilah. “I miss having the time to spend in the gardens, to walk through the forest and listen to the trees. I miss Otherworld, where the energy practically jumps off the branches and limbs. Here the forests are either unpredictable and dark, or gently asleep, waiting to wake up again.”
Delilah gave me a half smile. “We need to make more time to get out in the woods around our house. I go running a lot—I know you aren’t into that, but we could take a walk every day together. Maybe in the evenings, after Menolly wakes up, the three of us could just make it a habit to go for a stroll.”
The thought of a quiet walk down to Birchwater Pond sounded like heaven. “As long as we’re not dragged away to fight demons. I’m so tired, I think I’m going to fall asleep right here if they don’t come get us.”
“It’s eight thirty now,” Delilah said, glancing at her watch. “I’m still good, I can drive us home.”
I leaned against her shoulder, letting my eyes close. “I’m so tired,” I whispered. “The Northlands were so cold . . . and then having to immediately deal with the daemon and then Chase vanishing . . . I can barely keep my eyes open.” Inhaling slowly, I could feel sleep stealing up on me, but I started as the sound of the doorknob turning woke me up.
The guard nodded. “You can go in now. Aeval will see you.”
We headed through the door, not knowing what to expect. The Summer Solstice ritual where the land was officially dedicated had taken place in an outdoor venue, and none of the three of us had ever been inside any of the finished palaces. As I led Delilah into the throne room, I caught my breath.
Whereas the main structure was more utilitarian, Aeval’s throne room was brilliant and beautiful. The domed roof sparkled with silver filigree, etched across a jeweled pebble surface. Like cobblestones, except the arched ceiling glowed with scattered gems of polished obsidian and onyx, moonstone, and a cobalt blue stone with which I wasn’t familiar. Inset into the stonework were mosaics of the moon and stars, of Aeval herself, rising against the night sky, standing in front of a silver ocean, with breakers crashing on the darkened shore.
The throne room itself was swathed in a landscape of silver and indigo and blue. Aeval’s colors—the colors of night. Mist floated along the floor, and a pale ice blue light emanated from beneath the wisps of fog that floated up to curl softly around my wrists. Scattered banquettes buttressed the walls, all in shades of gray and navy with silver scallops embroidered across the seats.
The sheer beauty of the austere hall caught in my throat, and I raised my fingers to my mouth, in awe of the work that had been done and the magical threads running through that work. Beside me, Delilah gave a short gasp.
And in the center, a silver-clad throne. The seat and back were hewn of yew and elder boughs; silver embellishments wound their way through the arms and along the back. The throne was more wild than regal, primal like the night, sprawling across the back of the barrow.
And on the throne sat Aeval, tall and frozen, like a statue carved from ice. Her hair was dark as the night and her skin, alabaster and porcelain. She wore a gossamer dress woven of silver threads, and as she stood, it made a shifting sound like soft metal chain clinking gently against itself.
I knelt at the base of her throne, and Delilah curtsied.
“Camille, you are not summoned to report until the Solstice. What brings you to my feet this night?” Her voice echoed in the chamber as she made her way down the steps of the throne. “Has something gone amiss?”
“Actually, yes,” I said, finding my tongue. Titania made me so nervous I had trouble talking to her—she’d gone from drunken and downfallen Fae Queen to regaining her powers and shining like the sun. Morgaine was my cousin, but I no longer trusted her and every word out of her mouth was a riddle, fraught with ulterior motives. But Aeval—Aeval I could talk with, once I overcame the immediate fan-girl factor. I hadn’t mentioned it to anybody, but if I had to pledge myself to any of the Triple Threat’s courts—I was relieved it was her.
“Then by all means, tell me.” Aeval motioned to a pair of banquettes that sat near the throne. “Please, take rest, and eat with me.” She clapped her hands, and a serving girl appeared from out of the mist, bearing a tray with fruits and cheese, sliced venison, and sugar-sprinkled cookies.
I eagerly accepted a plate—the chill of the Northlands had increased my appetite, as had the exhaustion. Delilah also accepted a plate, but I knew her mind was only on the cookies. My sister was the original junk food junkie, and I worried about what all that crap would do to her system after a while. And if we did go home to Otherworld, there weren’t any Cheetos over there, nor were there a lot of candy stands. Cookies—yes, but a Snickers bar? Not so much.
Protocol dictated that we eat a few bites before diving into our business. Even with Chase’s life on the line, the Triple Threat took protocol and manners seriously, and if we broke with tradition, we’d be looking at no help at all.
After a few moments, I set my plate down on the seat next to me and turned to Aeval.
“I have come for help. And I’ve come to redeem the favor you promised me.” The words stuck in my throat, but I managed to get them out. Having a marker like that was big business, and having to spend it meant I would be back at a disadvantage. But Chase was worth it.
