A Tale of Two Kingdoms (6 page)

She smiled into the shadow-filled room, partly because of the idea of a lifetime with Duff Torquil and partly because it occurred to her that she might actually beat her older brother out of the position of family black sheep. Running off with a fae? She could see her father's face turning reddish-purple. She could see her mother's face pinched with disappointment and worry while hurrying away to oversee composition of a press release. Both her brothers would be turning the air blue enough to change the tint of the sky before vowing to hunt Duff down and skewer him.

At least she wasn't the heir. As difficult as it would be for her, she couldn't begin to imagine what Duff would be up against with his family. She let out a whispered laugh. She never asked to be mated to a fae, but there was no point trying to deny it. Life was strange.

EXCERPT VI
Gathering Storm
(conversation between Elora and Glen)

“You remember that thing you were doing for me. What I asked before we left Ireland?”

“You thought I forgot.”

“Well…”

“Of course you would think that. I should have let you know I’m on it. It’s a worthy mystery, tough enough to be fun, cool enough to be interesting. I was at the latest in a series of dead ends, but I’ve got a new lead. So the trail is heating up again. As soon as Sol gets back I’ll request some time off and a pass ride.”

“Good news.”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, I’m hoping. I wish I could tell you why I need the intel so badly, but just to reiterate, it’s important to some people I know. Really, really, really important.”

Glen cocked his head. “Abandon-my-post important? Or work-on-it-when-I-can important?”

“Scale of one to ten. One means if we never find out it’s no big deal. Ten is the end of days. I’m putting this between seven and eight.”

“Okay. You know I don’t have any free time while Sol’s gone and not much when he’s here. And the lead I need to follow requires travel with flex time and a long leash.”

“When Sol gets back, let me know what you need and I’ll make it happen.”

A TALE OF TWO KINGDOMS

We’ve called them by hundreds of different names.

At times they’ve shown themselves to us as they are.

At times they’ve shown themselves in disguise.

We’ve used each other.

We’ve amused them, entertained them, and provided breaks in their boredom.

In return, they’ve given us the illusion of reason or inspiration or purpose or excuse.

CREATION

In an exercise as old as the stars, the divinity class teacher told his charges to divide into teams of eight so that he might assign group projects. As it happened there were eighty-seven in the class. Eighty of those responded with the excitement that would be expected from an opportunity to work in committee structure with their friends. They chatted animatedly, drawn to each other as if they were made of magnets. Appearing to be in a state of delight nearing euphoria, they began naming their teams and composing team cheers while they awaited further instructions.

Beneath the commotion, inaudible but nonetheless present, were the groans and anxious stomach rumbles of the remaining seven who would rather take a millennium’s detention than participate in a group project. When the huddles were completely formed, those seven looked around to see who was left and gradually, grudgingly, began to drift toward shared space.

Dr. Pierce quietly observed, looking down from a raised platform and a condescending attitude. He knew the process of group project assignation was painful for the socially vulnerable, but it wouldn’t do for him to recognize that he enjoyed that. No, indeed. He viewed it with clinical dispassion, thinking it almost resembled a dance. Some were adept and some were not.

He was one of the first beings ever created and looked it. Though he had managed eternal survival physically, he’d discovered the truth of the Peter Principle rather early in his career and had, thereafter, become known for his bitterness expressed at times in biting wit and, too often, misdirected at powerless students.

He watched the progress of the formation of the eleventh, odd number group, with some distaste. He resented the fact that his instructions were being delayed by the slowness with which they came together. He resented the fact that they were such ne’er-do-well loser misfits that they had forced him, in his own mind, to have already given them a failing grade on the project before they had even heard the assignment. Because of that he was already formulating a plan to give them the subject with the least likely chance of succeeding - the realms of Earth.

It wasn’t intended as a punishment. Exactly. It was more an anti-reward.

The seven sat down at a corner conference table, eyeing each other cautiously, waiting to hear sentence pronounced – that being how long they would be stuck working together on a group project. None of them knew each other well enough to be labeled so much as acquaintances. Of course they’d seen each other around, but had never had either occasion or desire to interact on any level.

Still young and inexperienced in the grander scheme of things, they were aeons old, a concept unimaginable by lesser minds. They were a motley crew, beautiful for their oddities, pure in their extremes, comical in their eccentricities, but all of that could only be appreciated if viewed through a prism of generosity. And the absence of that was one of the essentials that had held Dr. Pierce back from a more illustrious and transcendent career.

Pierce restored quiet to the space by holding up his hands in a gesture of authority that was a tad grander than required for the event, but the preferred pupils were wily about their surreptitious jests at his expense. Pierce’s assistant passed out the parameters of the assignment.

Every team would be given a world with a starter complement of elementals, flora, fauna… the usual. The common Hominin prototype was to be used to populate at least a portion of the dimensions. The more humans, the greater the points. The experiment would be judged as a whole, but each student would be encouraged to pursue an individual “hobby” project, which could result in extra credit.

As the students looked over the outline of the assignment, Dr. Pierce drifted down from his platform, holding eleven tablets. Each tablet held the name of the team’s destination where they would be spending the next several thousand years together.

He drifted from one team to the next handing out tablets until there was only one tablet left and one team left, the team of seven, joined together by necessity rather than choice. One of them stood to receive the tablet and the others raised no objection. Pierce put it in his hand, then said to the group, “There are lessons to be learned from those who will people your study. When you have absorbed those lessons, you will return and advance to new challenges.”

One of the seven said, “Oh, joy,” sarcastically.

Pierce’s gaze jerked toward him in reprimand. “Clearly that won’t be soon. All the better for me.”

When Pierce was gone, the one holding the tablet raised it and read it out loud. “Earth.”

The seven looked at each other quizzically and responded with shaking heads and shrugging shoulders.

And so The Council was formed. The seven were…

Culain

Etana

Rager

Heralda the Dark

Ming Xia

Theasophie

Huber Quizno

CHAPTER 1

“Have you no’ had a niggle of a tap then?”

Duff looked up at his friend. He’d been staring into a pool of dark ale like he was a soothsayer and it was a diviner’s tool. They sat in a corner of a pub like a sad pair of leftover bachelors.

“Ah, Brean, no’ you, too.”

“Me, too? ’Tis only I here, Duffy. How many are you seein’, man? And ‘tis only your third pint.”

“Was referrin’ to me mum. Earlier this very e’en, was mindin’ my own affairs when the grand dame comes sashayin’ ‘round and orders my own secretary away so that she can discreetly inquire as to my ability to mate.”

Brean waited for two entire breaths before he began to beat the table and laugh hard enough to squeeze moisture from his eyes.

From a certain point of view, Duff supposed he could admit it might be comical.

Duff’s mum had wandered into his suite that afternoon and nodded at Grieve in that way that said, “Did you no’ just remember somethin’ needs doin’ down the hall there?”

As the door was open to his assistant’s office, he was able to observe the entire exchange. Grieve, who had not survived fifteen years in palace employ without skills, knew how to take a subtle hint. He rose, gave a slight bow, and asked for leave by excuse of errand for the prince. She graciously gave him leave.

Once the secretary had vacated the rooms, the queen began to slowly walk about Grieve’s office looking at this, studying that, as if she was visiting a museum and expecting to be tested later on what she saw. She was exactly twenty-five years older than her son and still lovely enough to drive sales of magazines when she appeared on the cover.

He had gotten his big-boned frame and height from his father, but his dark hair and violet eyes were the unmistakable stamp of maternal genes.

“Social call, Mum?”

“What else, love?”

“Well, that’s nice.” Duff looked up. “Tea?”

“Thank you, no. Had my fill already.”

There was nothing to do but wait until she said what she had to say. “Would you care to sit then?”

“Um? Aye, perhaps.” She strutted herself to the smart red leather armchair in front of Duff’s desk and sat down as gracefully as a woman half her age. “I was thinkin’…” Duff groaned. “What was that?”

“Did no’ say a thin’, Mum.”

Lorna Torquil was Queen of Scotia fae, but for the moment, she was simply a woman looking at the male child she had raised to adulthood, who was also her own heart walking outside her body. He was her only son, but he was also her only child, which probably intensified her feelings. All that maternal impulse was trained on one fae who normally saw that as a blessing.

“I was thinkin’,” she began again, “that ‘tis past time for the matin’ to come callin’?”

The way she cocked her head he felt like he’d been placed on a glass rectangle and slid underneath a giant microscope for closer scrutiny.

“The matin’?”

“Aye. I look at the social pages, you know. I see how many of your friends have had you standin’ up for them at their handfastin’s. Droppin’ all ‘round you, are they no’?”

Her gaze was boring down. She was doing that mother thing. The one where she examined him closely, looking for some sign that he might be clipping the truth. It was some mystical means of lie detection that was practically foolproof.

He knew the color was spreading up his neck and he knew she could see it. So he decided the best cover was to laugh.

“Mum. You’re embarrassin’ me. Aye. I’m practically the last one standin’. Thanks very much for stoppin’ by to point that out. Now I really ought to get ‘round a couple details before…”

She stood abruptly. “Very well. I shall no’ detain you from your
very
important work. Let me just leave you with the thought that you’re no’ likely to come face to face with your intended while you’re shut up in here with Grieve. Because one thin’ I’m certain of, she ain’t him.”