Copper Veins (7 page)

“Dad.” My tone was harsh, but I meant it. “I'm married.” I held out my left hand, showcasing the sparkling emerald on my ring finger.

“Of course,” he said. “I was only speaking hypothetically.”

Our drinks were delivered, but when Dad took his cup there was a tiny paper tag dangling from under
the lid. “I think they messed up your order,” I said. “They gave you tea instead of coffee.”

“No, it's Earl Grey tea,” Dad replied. “I always order Earl Grey.”

With that, Dad strode on ahead, leaving me and Max to gape after him. The man who was single-handedly responsible for his children's caffeine addictions had ordered tea, not coffee, on purpose. Granted, tea had caffeine, and I enjoyed a cup or two on occasion, but it just wasn't the same as the black liquid bliss that was coffee.

I guess a lot of things change in sixteen years
. “Did you know?” I asked Max as we followed Dad out the door. “About Jerome?”

“Nah,” he replied, taking a swig of his coffee. “But it makes sense if you think about how we got away that time at the Promenade.”

“Shouldn't Jerome have told us?” I pressed. “Given us a sign or something?”

“Not if he had orders otherwise.” Max pulled out a pack of gum and offered me a piece. Normally I don't chew gum, especially not when I'm drinking coffee, but hey, we were doing all sorts of irregular things today. As I shoved the brittle, sugary stick in my mouth, Max continued, “You'll see. Dad always knows what he's doing.”

I nodded, then I spit the disgusting fake-peppermint gum into a trash container, hoping that my cappuccino would kill the taste. As my eyes slid
from Max to the copper-haired man walking before us, I wondered what exactly he was in control of.

Max and I followed Dad around Capitol City's financial district for a few more hours, and I was never once sure of where we were going. I mean, I knew what direction we were headed in, but our path had no rhyme or reason. Through it all, Dad walked along with purpose, and Max followed him like a good second-in-command, but the third time we passed the bank, the jig was up. Dad was lost.

Mind you, not that I called attention to this, mostly because more weirdness was afoot. Every three blocks or so we happened upon Peacekeepers, either alone or in groups, all of whom stepped aside to let us pass. As a rule, Peacekeepers tended to have the manners of a pissed-off honey badger, so all the courtesy, not to mention the lack of us being arrested, had me a bit
on edge.

Finally we found ourselves crossing an old parking lot, the empty space around us assuring me that we were far from prying eyes, ears, and listening devices. “So, Dad,” I said, “where are we going?”

“Nowhere in particular,” he replied. “We just needed to walk the streets to show those sympathetic to our cause that I have returned.”

“I thought you'd been in contact all along,” I said.

“Only with the upper echelon,” Dad replied. “I still need to make my presence known amongst the lower ranks, like your friend, Corporal Polonsky.”

“He's not my friend,” I muttered, but Dad or Max weren't listening to me. My feet were aching from the pavement pounding, my head throbbed, and all I could think about was Micah. The fire of my anger had ebbed to cinders, and I was willing to admit that maybe I had overreacted. Not that I would admit as much to him, but I was willing to listen to what he had to say. And, frankly, I missed my husband.

Luckily, Dad felt that he had displayed himself enough in the Mundane realm, and soon we were stepping through the portal and into the Otherworld, specifically the gardens behind the manor. My first thought was to look for Mom, thinking she should be long since ready for her and Dad's date at the
brugh
in the back orchard. Instead, we were greeted by my frantic, disheveled sister who was practically leaping out of the front door to meet us.

“They took him!” Sadie shrieked. “They just walked right up to the door and took him!”

I opened my mouth to ask her who was taken only to shut it with a clack.
Micah
. “What do you mean, they took him?” I demanded.

“Gold warriors just walked up, knocked on the door, and said that Micah was being apprehended for crimes against the queen,” Sadie explained. Mom, dressed not for a date but in jeans and a sweater—her version of battle armor—exited the manor and stood beside Sadie. “Oriana's voice came through one of them. She said something about Greymalkin's death and me not pledging to her.”

“I thought we worked all that out,” I mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she's nuts,” Sadie said. I nodded, my eyes sliding to Mom, silently asking her why she let the gold warriors take Micah.

“I extracted an oath from Oriana,” Mom replied. “He'll be treated as an honored guest until you and Sadie arrive at her court.”

“And you believed that?” I asked.

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt,” Mom replied. “A queen's oath is sound.” Of course Mom would say that, being that she was a queen herself. While my mother was nuts in her own way, she certainly held it together a lot better than Oriana.

“All right,” I said, steeling myself. “It seems that we're all going to the Golden Court.”

“Is that wise?” Dad asked. “You may be playing
right into her hands.”

“It doesn't matter,” I said. “She has Micah—we have to go.”

I called the silverkin, and after I gave Shep a few quick instructions, I turned to leave. Much to my surprise, my father had no intention of coming with me to rescue my husband.

“It's foolish for us to all go at once,” Dad explained. “Leaving a flank in reserve is a better option.”

“A flank of one?” Sadie muttered. Dad glared at her, but let the comment slide.

“Fine!” I said, throwing my hands up in the air. “Wait here while we rescue Micah without you.”

“If you don't return by sundown, I will follow,” he assured. I nodded, calmed by the fact that at least we had a backup plan if something went wrong at the Golden Court. When Dad said something about Max staying behind with him, my brother just shook his head.

“Can't do that,” Max said. “If it wasn't for Micah, I might still be the Institute's favorite lab rat.” I noticed that Max wouldn't look at Dad while he said it, but Dad was nonplussed.

“Pay your debts, son,” Dad said. “As I've always said, Baudoin Corbeau pays his debts.”

I didn't remember Dad ever saying that, but whatever. Maybe he'd taken up gambling over the last decade and a half, probably around the same time he took up tea drinking. Then, the four of us were
out the door. Thanks to the metal pathways, a few heartbeats later we were standing before the shining entrance of the Gold Court.

“A bit gaudy,” Mom murmured as we strode inside, none of us bothering to give our names. It's not like we weren't expected. I couldn't speak, couldn't even think—all I knew was that Micah was at the end of this endless hallway and that he needed me.

We burst into Oriana's throne room and found Micah seated at a small round table, having tea and cake with the lunatic queen. Okay, perhaps his predicament wasn't quite as dire as I'd expected.

“Micah!” I cried. He stood as I rushed forward. A gold warrior stepped in front of me, and I darted around him, muttering something rude about melting him down for jewelry. Then I was in Micah's arms, thanking all the gods that ever were that he was safe.

“What happened?” I demanded. “I got back and you were gone! Sadie said—”

“Yes, I was apprehended,” Micah murmured, kissing the top of my head. “Luckily, your mother brokered the excellent terms of my imprisonment.”

“I said that if she did more to Micah than have tea and scones with him, I'd see her head placed atop a pike,” Mom said, coming to stand next to us. “I told you a queen's oath was sound,” she added, nodding to the tea service.

“I have never gone back on my word, though my cook has no notion of what a scone might be,” Oriana
said in a huff. “Cake was all he could manage on such short notice.”

“She was quite put out for a time,” Micah murmured. “When at last I told her that cake would do, she nearly fainted with relief.”

“What a good prisoner you were,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Oriana rose from the well-appointed table and descended the dais. She was wearing the parchment-colored robe that we'd last seen her in, but this time it was open, and she wore a long blue gown cinched with a gold belt beneath it. If I hadn't been so incensed, I would have mentioned how the gown complemented her eyes. “Surely, Maeve, you knew I wouldn't. Of all monarchs, you are well and truly aware of the power of an oath or two.” Oriana went on, babbling praise for my mother. I wondered if she'd ask for an autograph.

“What kind of a queen were you?” I whispered.

“Bloodthirsty,” Mom replied, loudly enough to startle Oriana into silence. “I find that thirst's not yet quenched. Goldie—”

“Oriana,” the queen corrected. Not that Mom cared.

“Why have you seen fit to apprehend the Lord of Silver?” Mom finished. “And to carry him off while his wife's away, for shame.”

“I had no choice,” Oriana insisted. “What if they continued to plot against me?”

“They?” It was my turn to demand answers. “They who?”

“Why, Micah and the Inheritor,” Oriana replied as if the answer was obvious. “I must know if there is treachery afoot.”

“Afoot?” I repeated. “Weren't we just here this morning, denouncing all such treachery?”

“Yes, yes, you were,” Oriana allowed, “but I have been waiting since then. I do hate to wait.”

Before I could start screaming, Micah murmured in my ear, “Since we departed, she has been expecting Sadie to arrive and pledge her loyalty.” An image of Oriana, waiting by the front door for the Inheritor of Metal to pop by, bubbled to the forefront of my mind. I laughed and burrowed deeper into his arms.

“Is that what this is all about?”

“You see, love, whenever you walk away from me in anger, bad things follow,” Micah said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Never leave me again.”

“Never?” I asked, cocking my head at him. “I walked away so I wouldn't yell at you.”

“I would rather endure a lifetime of your shouting than another moment of this insanity,” he replied. I laid my head on Micah's shoulder—after the ridiculous time I'd just spent in the Mundane realm, I agreed.

Oriana cleared her throat, reminding Micah and me that there were other issues at hand than our quarrel. I leaned around Micah so I could see the
queen and asked, “So, why didn't you take Sadie as well? She's the one you've got a beef with.”

“Hey!” Sadie protested, but Max hushed her. After all, it was a good question.

“I did not wish to anger the Seelie Queen by apprehending her daughter,” Oriana explained.

“Yet you found my son-in-law to be fair game,” Mom observed. “Foolish, Goldie, very foolish.”

Oriana stared at Mom, then at Micah, as if just now making the connection that if Maeve was my mother, and Micah my husband, Micah was Maeve's son-in-law. And this rocket scientist was our queen. Oriana began a stammering, babbling apology, but Mom waved it away.

“If you want Sadie's oath, she's here now,” Mom said, indicating her youngest. “Take it up with her.”

Oriana drew herself up, mustering her last remaining shreds of dignity. “That would please us.” As Oriana ascended the dais to her throne, movement to my left caught my eye. Ayla, the Inheritor of Fire, rose from one of the cushioned benches and followed Oriana up the steps. Just as I was about to ask why Ayla was here, being a human of fire and no connection to metal, she helped Oriana loosen her collar and expose the skin over her heart. Based on the familiar expressions exchanged between them, it wasn't the first time she'd done so.

“That's interesting,” I murmured.

“They have become quite close,” Micah replied.
Before I could answer, Oriana extended her hand to Sadie.

“Come to me, Sadie,” Oriana commanded. “Pledge to me your loyalty, and all will be forgiven.”

I positioned myself in Micah's arms so I was facing the dais. It looked like we would finally have all this pledging nonsense sorted out, and before dinner at that. Sadie, however, made no move to approach the queen. Instead, she remained rooted in place.

“'S'okay,” Max said. “It'll be over in a flash.”

“No.”

“I'll go with you,” Max urged, reaching for her hand.

“I said
no
.”

Every set of eyes in the hall, from the Gold Queen's to the servants', stared at my sister. Sadie had never refused to do anything in her entire life—from eating Brussels sprouts as a kid to taking a ridiculously overloaded teaching assistant's position at school—all because she couldn't bear to hurt someone else's feelings. Yet here she was, refusing to pledge to the Gold Queen. What a great time to grow a backbone. After enduring our stares for a good solid minute, she explained herself.

“Why should I pledge my loyalty to this…this fool?” Sadie demanded. “I mean, I'm the one with the power. I'm the Inheritor of Metal, and she's a basket case. Why are any of us following her?”

Micah released me from his arms, but I held on
to his hand. I needed an anchor in this maelstrom of ridiculosity. “Sister, she is our queen,” he cautioned.

“Why?” Sadie demanded, rounding on Micah. “She's a nut job! Why aren't you king?”

Micah's eyes went wide. “Silver is second to gold,” he began, but Sadie wasn't buying it.

“Yeah, well, maybe those rankings should be reevaluated,” Sadie muttered. “Mom's a queen, so why aren't we following her?” She fell silent for a moment while Oriana's outraged face got redder and redder. “No,” Sadie continued. “My loyalty is special, and I won't be pledging it to anyone like her.”