Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (23 page)

I tried to protest, but I could barely find breath to form words. “Okay,” I finally said.

Owen half-dragged, half-carried me to Tristan's room. He set me on the bed and knelt to remove my shoes. “You won't help anyone by getting yourself killed.” His voice was gruffer than I'd ever heard it. “You never knew how to pace yourself, Nicole. You throw yourself at problems without thinking about other solutions, about other people. If someone asked me what you believed in, I'd have to say 'hard work' and that's all. This is not how you're going to help Tristan.”

“And how would you know?” I said, working up some vehemence.

“I'd know because I know you. You're so single-minded. When you're angry with me, there's no room for anything else. When you decided you wanted a promotion at work, you just worked harder without thinking about working more efficiently. When Kailen told you that you had to work on your magic, you were too focused on our relationship to concentrate on anything else.”

He didn't say it as an attack, but in a matter-of-fact tone. Maybe this was why, for the first time, I actually listened. “I'll rest.”

“Good,” Owen said. He lifted my legs onto the bed and helped me lie down.

I reached for his hand as he withdrew, suddenly afraid of being alone. “I don’t know if I can do it,” I whispered to him. “I don’t know if I can bring Tristan back.”

He brushed the hair from my forehead. “Part of being human is not knowing what will happen.”

I tried to roll my eyes, but halfway through, caught myself in a yawn. I slept.

I DIDN’T WAKE UNTIL LATE afternoon. For a while, I didn't move, just soaking up the feeling of being well rested. It seemed like forever since I'd felt this way. Then my stomach growled, sending me back into reality.

Lainey had lent me some of her clothes, and though I could hear Lainey, Mark, and Owen in the living room, I took a shower first. Tomorrow, I would have to fight. Today, I would be clean and well-rested.

Owen went to the fridge and warmed up what they'd had for lunch as soon as I walked into the living room. “I figured you'd be starving when you woke up,” he said, “so I made you an extra-large portion.”

It was some concoction of chicken, rice, onions, and herbs, and it coated my stomach and clung to my ribs.

“Good news.” Lainey leaned over the table as I ate. “They found Jane and dropped the charges against you.”

“Wonderful,” I managed. I wasn't sure how I could be hungry, with the Arena fight so near, but I was. I stuffed in another mouthful. “I need to transform the butter knife a few more times—make it smooth. I hope you don't mind if I take a few things with me.”

Lainey reached out and touched my hand. “Anything, Nicole. Like I said—you and I—sisters forever.”

It made me tear up a little, which was awkward, considering I was in the middle of swallowing. “Thanks, sis.” I looked to Mark. “One more bout?”

He nodded, hands going to his knees. “Sure thing.”

I scarfed down the rest of my food and went to the patio door. As soon as I opened it, I saw Kailen. He stood there with hands in his pockets, head down, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. He looked up when I stepped outside. “Nicole.”

“I thought I told you to leave.”

“I found out who you're fighting. Haldor. I don't want you going into that blind.”

“I can't trust you.”

He strode close to me. Mark moved to intercept him, but I put a hand to his arm and shook my head.

Kailen spoke quickly, urgently. “Go to the Jeld-Wen Stadium and make a doorway there to get to the Arena in the Fae world. Haldor is Talented in elemental magic. He loves a big fire and ice show and he'll try to hit you hard and fast. He'll distract you with the fire, and come up from behind with ice. He's a mediocre swordsman. Don't let him touch you. He also has mind-reading Talent. But this doesn't involve just knowing your thoughts. It can also involve planting thoughts in your head.”

“What else?”

Kailen sighed. “He's a good Sidhe. I'd hate to see him die. But I'd hate even more for you to die.”

I wondered if he threw me off balance on purpose, or if he only just said whatever came to his mind. Despite Mark's presence, he leaned closer. No scent of honeysuckle, just the promise of a warm embrace.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Owen said from behind me. I turned to see his hand around the doorknob, clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

I took a step back from Kailen, remembering where I was and the things he'd said before. The things he'd lied about. “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate you telling me this.”

“But you haven't forgiven me.”

“No.”

He let out a long breath. “I'll let myself out. Just be careful, Nicole. I know Grian. I know the things she does. Nothing is ever straightforward with her.” He made for the gate in the backyard and left. Only when the gate had closed behind him did Owen go back inside.

Mark looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you shouldn't give him a second chance?”

“You mean a third,” I said. I pulled the butter knife from my pocket and transformed it into a sword. “I'm not that much of a fool.”

“Fair enough,” he said, and raised his own sword.

I beat Mark in all three bouts we fought.

When we went inside, Owen was loudly setting dishes into the sink, his jaw set and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t look up. Mark and I exchanged glances. He went to help Lainey with Justine while I approached Owen.

“Is something wrong?”

He leaned over the sink, his hands on the countertop. “I just don’t like seeing you look that way at another man. I’m not used to it. It’s hard.”

“Then you have an idea of how I felt,” I said softly.

The furrows in his brow melted away. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have any right to be upset. And yet I am. I don’t know what we are anymore. Separated, I guess? Divorcing?” He turned to face me, gray eyes meeting mine. “Reconciling?”

I waved a dismissive hand. “This isn't the time.”

“When
is
the time? What if you die tomorrow?”

I willed myself to be calm. The worst of it was, I didn't know when the time was to discuss our relationship, our marriage. We hadn't really had the chance, and maybe now we never would. “Then I guess you don’t have to worry about filing paperwork.” I tried to say it lightly, but it came across as flippant.

“What do you want from me, right now?” Owen said. “Do you want me around, do you want to cut me loose, what?”

We’d had a lot of good years together, and a lot of bad. I knew what Owen was. There was something comforting in that familiarity. But I didn’t want to drown myself in it at the expense of the things I really wanted. And I didn’t know what I wanted. Not yet.

“If I live, I promise we’ll talk,” I said. “I don’t want to keep you in limbo.”

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

Dinner was a silent affair. I slipped into sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Morning seeped through my eyelids, an unwelcome invasion of light. If I could have, I’d have slept for days, forgetting the challenge. But the memory of Tristan sitting at the Fae Queen’s feet, the golden ball in his hands and her dress pooled around his feet, motivated me.

I dressed in Lainey’s yoga pants and a tank top. Mark had given me one of his belts, which I’d repurposed to hold the items I wanted to take into the Arena. I had the butter knife, the metal coaster, a rag from the kitchen, a few of Tristan’s toys, a spray bottle of old perfume, and the gun in a holster.

I didn’t feel dangerous, but I felt prepared.

Lainey and Mark were already up, but at 6:00 a.m., I didn’t expect Owen to be awake yet. He wasn’t. Lainey handed me some toast, a couple pancakes, two slices of bacon, and some eggs. “Breakfast of champions,” she said. She had Justine strapped to her chest in one of those baby slings. “Make me proud, sis.”

The food was piping hot and burned as it went down. It was a good burn, the kind that reminded me I still had life in me yet.

“I’ll drive you to the stadium,” Mark said.

Owen stumbled into the kitchen, stubble on his face, his eyes bleary, his curly hair like a cloud around his head. “No, no, I’ll do it.”

I didn’t protest. Things would be simpler with Mark dropping me off, but I didn’t have the heart to tell Owen no. Part of me wanted to just forget what had happened with Jane and go back to my old life, with Frank Gibbons, Inc. and Owen. When I said nothing, he retreated into the bathroom, presumably to get dressed.

The last bites I forced past a throat gone suddenly tight. I didn't want this to be my last meal. For a moment, panic swelled in my chest, and I had the urge to run. Lainey walked past me and patted my shoulder. “Thank you for doing this, sis.”

The panic receded. I'd made my decision. “If it weren't for me, the Queen would never have taken Tristan,” I said. I felt the charm my mother had given me. It looked ridiculous, but touching it gave me some measure of comfort. I would not go into this completely alone.

A mere five minutes later, Owen was dressed and ready to leave. I hugged both Lainey and Mark in turn. “Kailen told me time passes slightly differently in the Fae world. Don't worry about me too much. I'll try to end this whole thing quickly and bring Tristan back before you know it.”

I patted Justine on her rosy, baby-soft cheek and then followed Owen out the door.

He didn't say much on the way to the stadium, only drove, his gaze distant and his hands loose on the wheel. I resolved to keep my mouth shut. Talking into a silence hadn't worked well for me so far. Finally, when we were almost at the stadium, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“I still love you,” he said.

Perhaps I should have spoken up after all. Did I still love Owen? I couldn't turn off my feelings, not in less than a week. But I'd been ambivalent toward him for a long time, even before he'd lost his job as a teacher. I'd fallen in love with him for a reason, so many years ago. His easy grin, boyish charm, big laugh. It had drawn me in, and I'd learned from our courtship—things I hadn't known about myself. I had more friends when I was around Owen; I felt more relaxed. At least, I had in the beginning. I sat there and tried to feel something. Anything. I'd been angry when I'd caught Owen cheating, sad in the aftermath, but now when I thought of us, of our marriage, I only felt numb. Maybe it was that emotional fatigue Kailen had referred to. Maybe I didn't care anymore. I wasn't sure.

He pulled up to the empty stadium parking lot and stopped the car. I put my hand on the door handle, but he turned to look at me, and I stopped. “Nicole, don't go. Not yet.” And then he leaned forward and kissed me.

It sparked something in me—a remembered time. My hand in Owen's as we watched the sun rise together. Him brushing a piece of hair out of my eyes and tucking it behind my ear. The way he'd proposed to me—with over-the-top phrasing and the sort of enthusiasm I thought existed only in cheesy romantic comedies. All these remembrances, so long ago. Could it happen again?

I opened my eyes and pulled away, confusion creeping into the stoic heroism I'd built up for my fight in the Arena. “I have to go,” I said.

Owen ducked his head. “Take care.”

I slid out of the car and turned to close the door.

Owen leaned forward. “We're only ever as strong as we think we are.”

“I'll remember that.” I closed the door, a smile touching my lips. That one hadn't even sounded overtly obvious. Perhaps Owen was growing up. Perhaps I was, in my own way.

I opened a doorway on the sidewalk, the shimmering air bringing with it the faint smell of flowers.

I stepped through.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I stood in a flower-covered meadow, the landscape around me flat rather than hilly, as it had been in Grian's realm. I didn't need to ask anyone for directions. The Arena stood before me, a massive monument of white stone, rising into the sky. It reminded me something of the Coliseum, if the Coliseum had been twice as wide, twice as tall, and had a myriad of odd-looking folk streaming into its entrances.

I touched the doorway behind me to close it.

“Huh,” said a voice to my right. I turned to see what looked like a bull, standing on two legs. I searched my memory of mythology. A Minotaur. “Changeling.”

“That’s me.” I attempted a smile and failed. For all I knew, Minotaurs might consider a smile an insult, or an act of aggression.

The Minotaur nodded. “I will cheer when your blood has been spilt upon the white stone of the Arena.” His huge head pivoted in the direction of the Arena, and he lumbered toward one of its entrances. Pleasant fellow.

Feeling awkward and out of place, I strode toward the Arena and tried to exude confidence. The closer I got to the white arches, the more Fae I encountered. Little brownies, like the ones I’d seen in Landon’s office, pixies with shimmering wings, creatures that looked as though limbs and torso were fashioned of leaves and twigs. Others looked a lot like me—human, but with more of an ephemeral quality. I wondered if all the royal families would be in attendance. As I reached the crush of the lines, I wondered if all of the Fae world would be in attendance.

Where was I supposed to go? I started toward one of the lines. Something brushed against my legs.

“She doesn’t know where to go, does she?”

“She is in over her head now, the Changeling is.”

“We did try to warn her.”

I whipped about, trying to get a glimpse of the little fairies. “Where?” I said. “Where do I go?”

“Around, around,” a little voice said.

“The door that leads down.”

“The door that is empty.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“She thanks us for the information that will lead to her death.”

“Mortal habits.”

“Odd ones.”

A high-pitched giggle sounded before both voices and the rustle of grass disappeared. I started to my right, pushing past the crowds of Fae.

I must have walked at least half a mile before I saw the door. It was small, fashioned of dark wood. No Sidhe stood near it. I placed a hand upon the silver knob and turned. Unlocked. A set of narrow stairs met my gaze, lit periodically by glowing blue orbs that hung floating in the air. I had to duck to enter.