The Royal Wizard (37 page)

Again, she paused. “Braith,” he said, “we do not have much time before someone interrupts. Whatever you have to say, say it.”

“I know you are descendant of dragons. And that it is why you refuse to take a wife and sire heirs.” She flinched, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said it. “I can sense the dragonfire in you.”

Saeran said nothing. It was most uncomfortable, having this young girl know so much about him. Braith, he imagined, was what Nia must have been like before Nico had taken her under his wing. Untrained, unsure of herself, yet in possession of something no other had. He tried to see Braith as another wizard, not a girl child. He’d appointed her as one of his advisors, after all. It would not do to lose confidence in her now.

 “Only dragonblood can carry dragonblood,” she said softly. “My gran used to tell us stories.” She smiled a little. “I thought they were just that until now.”

“Does anyone else know?”

“Oh, no, Majesty. I would never tell.” After a pause, she added, “But I think you ought to.”

“And give my people more reason to fear?”

“They already do anyway,” she argued. “But better a kind, mostly human king they know, than a strange inhuman thing they imagine. And you could wed Lady Nia then. Begging your pardon, Majesty, but after Samhain, no one else will have you.”

Saeran laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “Is that so?”

Braith nodded.

“Simple as song. Wed the wizard and completely destroy the balance Wilderheim stands on.”

“No,” she said. “Solidify it.”

“Braith…”

“Don’t you see? Who would be foolish enough to stand up to a dragon king and his mate? King Gavriil despises magic because he fears it. As a king apart from your wizard, you will always be at odds, an easy target for someone like him. But if you form a united front, he will not dare challenge you. Not with Lyria and the whole of Otherlands at your back.”

Saeran gritted his teeth against harsh words. “And Synealee?”

Braith shrugged. “They might try, but they will have to go through Lyria to get to us. King Halden will not be beaten twice, especially not by pampered zealots.”

“And what of Aegiros.”

Braith’s growing winsome smile faded. “I do not know. Queen Mari’s death complicates everything where they are concerned. They might care, they might not. There is no way to tell what they will do until they do it. Aegirans do not plan their assaults, they simply carry them out.”

“And how do you propose we circumvent the riots in my own kingdom?”

“Do as you have always done. Be the king you have always been and prove to them that the well being of Wilderheim and its people is still your highest priority. I cannot say it will be easy, but you have won them once, it can be done again. You descend from a long line of kings, Majesty, good kings, sometimes foolish kings, but never cruel or heartless. Show them the goodness of your heart and they will love you for it.”

Saeran sighed, weary of this. “Which leaves the ever important chore of siring heirs and continuing that long royal bloodline. Tell me, young Braith, what magical solution do you have for that?”

“Lady Nia is Other,” she said quickly. “She might—”

“Enough,” Saeran snapped. “Thank you, Braith.” He’d meant it as a dismissal. His head ached like the devil, and he was in no mood to discuss whether or not his hypothetical dragon spawn would drain the life from Nia as he’d watched it do with Mari. His eyes closed of their own volition and he leaned his head back, half drowsing already.

But Braith didn’t leave. “Sire, there is more. I looked in on Lady Nia while you slept.”

Saeran cracked one eye open to look at her. “So now you know all of her secrets too?”

Braith stood and arranged a tray of food and the chalice where he could reach them if he wanted to. “I do know what you fear,” she told him. “I also know that with her you would not need to.”

“She can keep from conceiving, you mean.”

She said nothing.

“If you are talking about the Other thing again, don’t. I will not risk her life on the possibility that I might be wrong.”

“No, that is not what I meant at all.”

“Then what?”

Braith wouldn’t look at him as she backed away to the door. “Perhaps you should ask her,” she said. “Ask her what the dragon did.”

Saeran frowned as the door closed behind her. Left with that mysterious pronouncement and no idea what she was talking about, his mind immediately seized on the possibility that there might be even the smallest chance for…something. He rolled his eyes at himself even as sleep began to weigh on him once more. Even if he was willing to believe it, which he wasn’t, and even if no one else ever offered their daughter or sister in marriage to him again, which might or might not be true, and even if a marriage between them didn’t cause the chaos he knew it would, Nia had already turned him down twice. And he’d thought he’d accepted her decision with grace.

But content as he’d told himself to be with Nia by his side as friend and companion, Saeran’s heart had never stopped hoping for more. Nia was part of him; he felt it even now when she was worlds away in wizard’s sleep. He felt her heart beating and the world made sense.

Saeran sighed and closed his eyes. He imagined she was there with him, nestled against his side and he smiled, allowing sleep to pull him under.

He dreamed of the dragon flying circles high in the air, breathing fire at the clouds, and a pair of babies swathed in embroidered blankets, looking up at him with big, curious eyes.

CHAPTER 40

Out of total darkness Nia fell into blinding light. She rubbed her eyes and squinted. There were giant orbs floating in the air, their light bouncing off the crystal walls and golden pillars. The chamber was enormous, with a ceiling so high she couldn’t even see it and windows big enough to fit a castle through.

“Do you know where you are?”

Nia turned around to face the female Sidhe seated on a delicate white throne.

“Do you know why you are here?” the male beside her asked before she could answer.

“No,” Nia said to both questions.

The king of all Sidhe scowled. “I expected better from you by now.”

Nia looked around at the hall suddenly filled with faeryfolk. “I was sleeping,” she said. “How did I get here?”

“What does that matter?” the queen said. “You were elsewhere, now you are here. What you should be worried about is why you are here and how you will get back.”

“If you will get back,” the king corrected.

“Why would I not?”

The queen folded her hands together in her lap. “There is a matter of great concern we must discuss. You will not leave until we are satisfied that it is resolved.”

“Who do you speak for?” the king asked.

Nia didn’t like his arch tone. “Everyone who needs a voice. And you?”

His eyes narrowed and vines burst out of the ground at her feet, twining around her legs and body. Nia kicked and ripped at them but the more she fought, the faster they grew until she couldn’t move at all.

“Disrespect will not be tolerated, Halfling.”

A mass of black fur hurtled over her head with a vicious snarl. The dire wolf male took a stand between her and the Sidhe, hackles up, and growled, “She is not one of yours.”

“Then who does she belong to?” the queen questioned. “The water sprites? She does not look like one. Or her sire’s people? Or humans? Or the dragon, perhaps!”

Behind Nia the female dire wolf huffed, and the vines withered at her feet. Nia stepped out of them and faced the royal Sidhe. “I belong to no one—”

“Still you don’t know who you are,” the queen said.

“—and my people are who I choose them to be.”

“Your ignorance grows tiresome.”

“Everyone must belong to someone,” the Sidhe king decreed.

“Why?” Nia challenged. “Because you decided?”

“Because without someone, you are no one,” the queen said.

Even the dire wolves had no defense to offer against that.

“Enough of this. The sorcerer’s amulet damaged the Veil between our lands. Humans are passing through where they should not, and our people are becoming stranded in your world. What do you intend to do about it?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” the king said, rolling his eyes. “The girl without clan, without a name, the nobody standing before royal Sidhe without the sense to kneel. You. The sorcerer came for you, so it is your fault that this has happened.”

Nia was speechless. “You want me to repair what gods have created?”

“Are you unequal to the task, she who speaks to gods?”

The dire wolves growled and the female shifted into her human body next to Nia. “You go too far Eilwyn,” she said to the Sidhe queen.

“You dare speak my name!”

“You know I will dare much more if you vex me,” the female growled.

The Sidhe king stood. At his full height, he was enormous, and pale white shadows moved at his back like gossamer wings. Nia had never seen anything like it. “Remember your place, wolf.”

“You would do well to remember yours,” the male dire wolf said. “You do not speak for all of us. You only speak the loudest.”

“See what she does to us,” Eilwyn said, her voice resounding throughout the hall. “Scant moments among us and we turn on each other like humans.” She turned to the dire wolves. “And Roukan and Lyall would have us welcome her in our midst.”

Accusing stares turned on her from all around. No longer only Sidhe, the hall was now filled with all clans of Others, big and small.

“I do not want to be in your midst,” Nia said. “My place is in Wilderheim.”

What of the Veil?
Nia turned to face the speaker, a male water sprite, looking out from a lake that wasn’t there before.
Humans in Otherlands get lost. Humans in our lakes and rivers drown.

“I don’t know how to repair the Veil,” Nia said. “But if we agree to a compromise, I can help to mend the rifts.”

“Compromise,” the Sidhe king said with disgust.

“Sit down, Ruari,” Lyall commanded, shedding her human skin in favor of her dire wolf form. “Let the girl speak.”

The Sidhe king scoffed, but no one spoke up for him, and with a snarl he sat.

 “Go on, Nialei.”

It was strange hearing her full name. No longer was she an orphan from the woods, she was Nialei of the Streams. Daughter of a water sprite and…well, she wasn’t quite sure what her father was, but what she knew was enough. Squaring her shoulders, she addressed the crowd. “Our legends say the gods wove the Veil from the blood of each clan of Otherlands and gave it the power of illusion. It was never meant to be a gateway to be opened or shut, but a shield to hide the worlds from each other. But they were never truly separate, were they? Not with curious Others passing through whenever they pleased to spy on humans and amuse themselves meddling in their lives.”

King Ruari pushed to his feet again, but Nia held up her hand to silence him. “I mean no offense,” she said politely. “What I mean to say is that it took all of us to create the Veil, and it will take all of us to mend it. But Otherlands will never again be a mystery to humans, not in Wilderheim, not after everything that’s happened. The compromise I propose is that we work together to mend the rifts, all of us, even humans. Because if Others refuse to stay in Otherlands, then humans should not be forced to stay in human lands. Fair is fair, after all. Balance must be kept, yes?”

“How dare you suggest we allow mortals to walk our worlds!” Eilwyn said, outraged.

“How dare
you
assume mortals will continue to fight, bleed, and die to defend your precious worlds without having anything in return?” Nia replied. “It has been thus for centuries. Wilderheim stands bastion to protect
you. Your
worlds and
your
secrets. They are the only ones who still believe in the old legends, and it is that very faith which is keeping the Veil fluid. You know as well as I that the moment the people of Wilderheim stop believing, and wondering, and praying, the Veil will slam shut and no one will pass through it ever again, human or Other.”

She paused for breath and chanced a look around. It was a bluff, a wild guess on her part but from the looks of those around her, Nia had guessed right. The Others needed humans as much as humans needed them. Nia swallowed with difficulty, wondering what would happen to those stuck on either side who did not belong. She couldn’t be the only Other living among humans. And as fascinated as the Others seemed to be about them, Nia was certain there had to be humans living among Others somewhere as well.

“Those with Sight have always known and will always know there is more to Wilderheim than meets the eye. You cannot hide and expect mortals to fight for what they cannot see.”

“They have done it this long,” Ruari said with a careless shrug. “Why should they not continue?”

Nia took an angry step before she could stop herself and the ground shuddered beneath her foot. “Because I will not let them.”

The Sidhe king and queen leaned toward each other and spoke in whispers a moment. Then Eilwyn stood from her throne and said, “Who will speak for the Halfling?”

The dire wolves stepped up to her without hesitation. “We will,” Lyall said.

And us,
the water sprite added.

“And us,” the fire sprites chimed in.

One after the other the great majority of the Others voiced their support. Nia nodded her thanks to each of them and then turned to the Sidhe, the only ones who had not yet spoken. “And how have you decided?”

Ruari scowled at her and pushed to his feet next to his queen. With a regal nod, he answered for both of them, and then Nia was flying, spinning, dropping away, back into the darkness from which they’d taken her. Back into the wizard’s sleep.

CHAPTER 41

Before she even awakened fully, Nia felt the presence of another in her chamber. “Trickster,” she said, in no mood to spar with him.  When she opened her eyes, he perched at the foot of her bed, his black eyes crinkled at the outside edges with mischievous laughter, though his thin mouth betrayed not a hint of humor.