To Catch a Queen (14 page)

Read To Catch a Queen Online

Authors: Shanna Swendson

Tags: #FIC009010 FICTION / Fantasy / Contemporary; FIC044000 FICTION / Contemporary Women; FIC010000 FICTION / Fairy Tales, #folk tales, #Legends & Mythology

BOOK: To Catch a Queen
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“Oh yeah,” she said, equally softly. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, even for them.” She raised her voice to address the fairies. “This is your midwife,” she said, resting her hand on Michael’s shoulder. “He’s quite experienced.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he muttered, but she silenced him with a glare.

They removed the bonds from Michael’s wrists, and he put down his coat and bag before checking on his patient. Sophie dropped Beau’s leash, and the dog immediately headed to the hearth, dropped to the fire-warmed stones, and started snoring. “What do you need me to do?” she asked Michael warily.

“Sit by her head and play coach,” he ordered. “I’ll need that hot water and some cloths or towels eventually.” Sophie forced herself to focus on the matter at hand rather than swooning over Michael taking charge of the situation.

She settled beside the woman in labor and took her hand. “It’s going to be okay,” she said soothingly.

“How long has she been in labor?” Michael asked, but he got blank looks in response.

“Fairies,” Sophie explained. “They don’t really do time.”

“Oh, right. Well, are the contractions close together or far apart?”

Before anyone could answer, the woman cried out and contorted in pain. Michael noted the time on his watch as Sophie squeezed her hand and stroked her hair. When the contraction passed, Michael said, “Okay, let’s take a look.” As he pulled the covers away from the woman’s legs, he glanced up at Sophie and said, “You know, this is easier when I’ve got a doctor or paramedic on the radio.”

“But you know what to do, right?”

“I know the basics, but if there’s anything odd, it would be nice to get some feedback or coaching.”

“I’m not sure a doctor would be much help here.”

“Though I’m pretty sure ‘odd’ is guaranteed.” The woman writhed again and Michael checked his watch. “Not long now,” he reassured the mother-to-be, and Sophie squeezed her hand. “This is usually when I start hearing sirens in the distance,” he remarked. He took control of the room, barking commands to the other fairies, to Sophie, and to his patient.

Sophie had never seen him at work in professional mode, and now she wished she could have avoided it because it really wasn’t helping her situation. Although she liked being in control, she had to admire strength in other people, and this was just adding to her already-long list of reasons to admire him.

Once things started happening, they happened quickly, and Sophie became too busy playing birth coach to notice much of what Michael was doing until she heard an unearthly high-pitched squall and turned to see Michael holding a bloody, messy, twisted little creature. He was staring at it like he’d just brought an alien into the world.

“It’s too young to maintain a human glamour,” Sophie told him softly.

“Then I’m going to assume it’s healthy and this is what it’s supposed to look like.” He handed the infant over to one of the other fairies and instructed them to clean it while he dealt with the rest of the process. “To be honest, I’m just guessing here from what I’ve observed,” he said as he worked. “Usually the paramedics take over about now. How is she?”

Sophie laid a hand on the mother’s forehead. It was cool to the touch, but she didn’t know if that was the normal chill of the fae or a sign of shock. The woman’s eyes were closed, but her chest rose and fell. “She seems to be alive.”

The leader of the fairies stepped up and moved Michael out of the way. “You have done what was needed. The birth was a success.” He gestured another fairy forward with a basin of water for Michael to wash his hands. While Michael cleaned up, the fairy continued, saying, “We will now escort you back to your world.”

Sophie slid off the bed and went to his side. “Actually, you can escort us to the court of Fiontan and Niamh. That’s where we were headed when we were so rudely interrupted.”

The leader balked. “That would not be appropriate.”

“Oh, really?” Sophie asked, keeping a smile plastered on her face but adding iron to her voice. “By my calculation, you owe my friend here a life debt. A little escort to the place we were going anyway is nothing. You’d still owe him a debt, to be called in later.” When the fairy hesitated, she added, “Is a new life of so little value to you? You were fortunate to have stumbled upon a human who actually has some experience in this.”

The fairy was clearly not happy, but he gritted his teeth and bowed toward Sophie and Michael. “Very well, then. Do you wish to leave immediately, or do you need rest and refreshment?”

Sophie glanced toward Michael, who looked drained. “We’ll take a moment, but we have our own refreshments.”

She picked up both their bags and nudged Michael toward some chairs by the fire. He sank wearily into a chair, and she poured him a cup of sweet tea from her thermos. “Good work back there,” she said softly. “We were lucky that you knew what you were doing.”

He drained the cup and handed it back to her. “What would have happened if things had gone badly?”

She refilled the cup. “They’d have probably killed us. Or tried. I wouldn’t have let them.”

“You’d have introduced them to their queen?” he whispered with a smile.

“Something like that.” She opened the tin of cookies and held it out to him before taking one for herself. “But I didn’t have to. And now you’ve secured us safe passage the rest of the way.”

They finished their snack and Sophie put the containers back in her bag. They gathered their belongings, woke Beau and gave him some water, and faced the leader. “We are ready to go now,” Sophie said firmly, not giving him a chance to argue.

He selected two of his men and gestured them forward. “These two will escort you on your way, though I warn you that humans are not welcome in Fiontan and Niamh’s court, other than as slaves.”

“Oh, we’re old friends,” Sophie said. “We met at the queen’s court. Now, if we could be going …”

They headed at a brisk pace toward the mountains. Both Michael and Sophie had to pause to put their coats on because it was considerably cooler here. Although steep, the path was relatively easy. Their guides made no effort to make conversation, and Sophie wasn’t comfortable chatting with Michael in their presence. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before they rounded a bend and saw the castle situated on a crest between two peaks. “Wow, you were right. It does look like a place Dracula would live,” Michael said. “I take it Fiontan and Niamh were the Goth types at the battle where you were crowned.”

“Yes, that was them.”

“And I left my black nail polish at home.”

“I think this is closer to the authentic variety—you know, sacking Rome and all that.”

“Even more fun. You know the most interesting people.”

The castle had appeared distant, but they reached it in no time. Their approach was somewhat hampered by a seemingly endless procession of fairies making their way down the road that led to the castle’s drawbridge. Sophie thought this was an opportune time to create a glamour so they fit in with the crowd. She decided to make it so that Michael wouldn’t see it, then also erased it from her own vision because the dark robes suited him a little too well.

“We can make it from here,” she told their escorts. “You have fulfilled your duty.”

They bowed, then one of them handed a small embroidered cloth to Michael. “The debt is not discharged. This is how you may call upon our master again.”

Sophie was gratified that Michael merely bowed in return and resisted the urge to thank them. He tucked the cloth into his bag as they merged into the procession.

“We kind of stand out here, don’t we?” he said.

“I took care of it. To them, we blend.”

“Care to share how we look?”

“A lot like everyone else. No tights.”

“This looks like the happening party of the year. You think Jen might be here?”

“They seem to have left the palace at the same time Jen disappeared, so it’s a good place to start looking. It would be like them to decide they were the rightful rulers.”

“And they’re having a big party.”

“Could be a coronation ball,” she agreed.

“What do you do if it is them?”

“We get Jen away, break the thrall, and then I worry about challenging them.”

“What if they’ve got her disguised?”

“I think you’ll know her, regardless.” Unwelcome tears welled in her eyes as she said it. How ironic that one of the things she loved about him was his pure devotion to his missing wife. She really did know how to pick attainable men.

“They’re not going to be checking invitations, are they?” he asked when they’d crossed the bridge and were nearing the door.

She craned her neck and rose on tiptoes to try to see around the people ahead of them. “It doesn’t look like it. No one’s pausing at the door.”

They passed through the doorway, went down a passageway, and emerged in a vast hall that was too large even for the castle they’d seen from the outside. Fiontan and Niamh sat on thrones at the head of the room, attended by numerous servants bringing them food and drink.

Michael clutched Sophie’s arm as he scanned the crowd. “Do you see Jen?” he asked.

 

Twenty-one

 

The Realm

Later

 

Acting “natural” had to be the hardest thing to do, Emily thought as she and Eamon wandered through the area where they were most likely to be caught by the fake queen’s guards. If you were acting, then by definition you weren’t being natural. Faking “natural” required going deep into character and creating the illusion that there was nothing artificial about the situation. Maybe that’s what her problem was: She hadn’t done the necessary work to prepare for this role.

“What’s our backstory here?” she asked Eamon.

“Backstory?”

“How we got to this point.”

He turned to her, his eyes wide with alarm. “Are you having difficulty with your memory?”

“No, I’m fine. But we’re supposed to be acting here, and if we aren’t convincing, this plan isn’t going to work. To be convincing, we have to know who we are and how we got here. Otherwise, we might as well be waving giant ‘Bait!’ signs.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, how’s this? You fell in love with me from afar when you were exploring my world, and you brought me with you to show me your world.”

He nodded, quite seriously, and his eyes darkened as he said, “Yes, that is what happened.”

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was agreeing to her idea of a backstory for their roles or saying something different entirely. He looked so earnest, but then he always looked pretty earnest. It was one of his more endearing qualities. In the theater world, she didn’t meet too many genuinely earnest people. And if he really meant what he said, what did it mean? This didn’t seem to be about acting anymore.

She was so flustered by this train of thought that it took her a couple of tries before she could properly form words and make them come out. “So now you’re showing me your world, trying to convince me to stay here forever with you.”

“The impostor queen will not allow that. And your sister would find a way to kill me if I kept you forever.”

Okay, so he didn’t understand acting. And did that mean that what he’d said about falling in love with her was true? “It’s a lie, a ruse. You don’t know that the queen will keep us apart, and in this scenario the real queen isn’t my sister. I’m just a normal human.”

“No one would believe you were a normal human.”

“Then an exceptional human, which is why you fell in love with me.”

“Yes,” he said, nodding, his voice soft, and his eyes sending shivers through her whole body. Yikes, he really did mean it, didn’t he?

She fought to maintain the pretense that this was just about the ruse. “So if you weren’t worried about my sister, and you wanted me to stay with you, what would you do?”

He thought for a moment, then waved his arm in an arc over his head. Silver sparks trailed his hand, fluttering to the ground around them in a shower of flower petals. The petals made a musical tinkling sound as they fell. It was kind of cheesy, but Emily couldn’t help but be at least a little captivated by it.

“Do you have this kind of magic in your world?” he asked her.

Putting herself in character and making herself forget for a moment about her sister and the enchantresses or about stage special effects, she looked up at him with what she hoped were starry eyes. Actually, she was pretty sure her eyes were starry, and it had nothing to do with acting. “Oh, that’s so wonderful,” she sighed. The remaining silver sparks reflected in his eyes. Or maybe they came from his eyes. She wasn’t sure. She just knew she was tilting her head and leaning toward him, and he was bending and leaning toward her, and then their lips met and she forgot about acting. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here, forever young, forever together, making beautiful music and magic.

A harsh voice shouting, “Halt by order of the queen!” ruined the moment and reminded Emily why they were there. She opened her eyes and moved away from Eamon to find that they were surrounded by guards.

Remembering to play her role, Emily said breathlessly, “The queen? What’s this about?” She forced herself not to look toward the nearby trees where their allies lurked.

“I have no business with the queen,” Eamon said, also playing along. “Why does the queen care what I do?”

“The queen is purifying the Realm. Those who are tainted must be cast out,” the guard said, gesturing at them with his spear.

Any day now,
Emily thought, and a split second later the free fae burst from their hiding places and surrounded them. The enchantresses emerged and used their magic to immobilize the guards. The free fae confiscated their weapons.

“Now, let’s have a little chat,” Amelia said. “You speak on behalf of the queen. Have you seen this queen?”

“Only from a distance,” one of the guards said with great reluctance, like the words were being pulled from him.

“Do you know where her palace is?” Amelia asked.

He seemed to fight with every fiber of his being until at last he said with a tone of defeat, “Yes.”

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