I flew over Castle Aithinne's magma moat, then skirted the Forgetful Forest, going to the right. The Earth Kingdom was straight ahead. Well, straight ahead-ish. It kind of curved, just as the Fire Kingdom did. But Castle Crith-Fuinn was straight ahead, and that was where I needed to go. Many people would be at the celebration feast, but that also meant the King would be distracted. It was the perfect time to steal the ring of remembrance from him.
The problem would be getting it back to him. I assumed the ring was part of the royal treasury, passed down from monarch to monarch. In the future, it would belong to Queen Aalish, and that needed to happen. If it didn't belong to Aalish, it would never be given to Arach. Sure, I could give it to Arach, but it was bad enough that I was changing minor things in the past. I really didn't want to risk something as big as taking the Earth Kingdom's ring of remembrance.
As I flew across Faerie, a longing rose inside me to call out to the Consciousness of the Realm for guidance. Yeah, Faerie was a smart ass, but she was also wise and her counsel would be appreciated. But she wouldn't know who I was yet, and talking to her now may have bad repercussions. At this point, she wasn't talking to the Fey. At least, I don't think she was.
“Damn, I really need to learn more about Faerie's history,” I muttered to myself.
I passed over the border of Earth, marked by guardian trees that would pull a whomping willow with anyone unwanted. They stirred, leaves rustling as I flew overhead, but either I was out of reach or my invisibility glamour was enough to fool them. Once past them, it wasn't long before I saw lights up ahead. Night had just fallen, and faeries were making their way to Castle Crith-Fuinn, the lights of their lanterns creating bobbing lines through the forest. I dipped below the canopy and landed to approach the massive stone doors of the castle on foot. Like Castle Aithinne, Castle Crith-Fuinn was built within a mountain. Unlike Castle Aithinne, Castle Crith-Fuinn went down, into the earth rather than up, through the mountain.
Before leaving the shield of the forest, I shifted back to my normal form and got dressed. It was just easier to move about in my prime body, and it got rid of the burden of my clothes. Retaining my glamour of invisibility, I wove carefully through the crowd of Earth Fey and slid behind the Troll doormen. Enormous slabs of ancient stone formed the double doors of the main entrance, their monumental weight mounted on a counterbalance that could be spun easily by anyone, no matter their size. So, no, the Trolls weren't there to close the doors. They were there for the intimidation factor and to deal with any unwanted guests. Great, hulking faeries, heavily muscled, with dark skin and tusks curving out of their mouths, the Trolls would indeed intimidate and overpower most people, even the people of the Earth Kingdom.
But not me. Even if they could have seen me, a Troll was nothing against a Dragon-Sidhe, much less this Dragon-Sidhe. I know, I shouldn't get cocky. But my strength wasn't going to help me get that ring. Unless I wanted to rampage my way through Castle Crith-Fuinn and demand that the new king hand it over. Which I didn't. Unless absolutely necessary. Okay, it was an option.
It had been years since I'd been inside Crith-Fuinn, but I still remembered the path to the dining hall and some of the corridors leading off it. That being said, the crowd wasn't going toward the dining hall. They veered to the left, probably heading to the ballroom. I'd been there before as well, for a Crown Tourney in fact. The fights had been held in front of the royal dais, as if inspiring the combatants toward victory. From what I recalled, the Earth Fey had launched right into the celebration as soon as the new monarchs had been chosen. But this Crown Tourney had been done differently. For one thing, the monarchs of the other kingdoms hadn't been invited.
Anyway, losing the crowd was a bonus for me. I wandered the tunnels with more ease and soon entered the vast and surprisingly bright cavern of the dining hall. There, the walls and ceiling were covered in flowering vines and other thick foliage. I looked up, remembering the Earth Pixies who had dropped a gift to me from the ceiling. They'd been treated so poorly that I'd taken them with me when I left. I hoped it was just Aalish who mistreated them and that this king was different. Because there was nothing I could do to help them. Not yet.
As I crossed the room, the vines rustled, and I wondered if the pixies could hear me. Were they peering down, wondering who was making the soft padding sound of footsteps? I tried to walk more softly. Then I paused. I had once followed Aalish through the corridors, and I was pretty sure I could remember the way to her sitting room. But that sitting room had been locked, and I didn't want to get in anyway. I needed to find the royal residence. And it wasn't as if I could ask for directions.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
Tiny heads popped out of the plants covering the walls and ceiling.
Note to self: Keep your mouth shut when you're invisible, you big dummy.
I turned around and headed back the way I'd come. I would need to go to the party after all. So, new plan—I'd find King Rory and watch him. When he went to bed, I'd follow him. Maybe he'd even put his crown away in the same place where he stored his new ring of remembrance. Wouldn't that be fortunate?
It wasn't hard to get back to the throng. What was harder was walking with them without getting knocked into. I was hit a few times and had to quickly slip away before a faerie grabbed me. Luckily, most were too distracted by the excitement of being in the royal castle and attending a feast. These were common faeries, not the courtiers, and so they wouldn't have been often invited to the castle. This was probably a once in a century occurrence for them. Maybe even once in a millennia.
At last, I reached the throne room, instantly flowing out to the side to hug the wall. Luckily, these walls weren't covered in plants. Here, the plants grew from the floor and ceiling only, those on the ceiling holding fey lights while those on the ground only spotted the vast space, lending some color to an otherwise drab room.
It was indeed the same space that I'd been to for the Crown Tournament in my time. But it was a bit different, especially since it had been decorated for the ball. The plants on the ground had been coaxed into configurations resembling birds, wolves, foxes, and unicorns. Grass covered the floor and flower petals drifted through the air on warm eddies, scenting it delicately. The roped fighting rings were gone. If this had even been the place where the Crown Tourney had been held. As far as I knew, they could change it every time. Maybe Rory had won his crown in a field.
To one side of the hall, a lavish buffet waited, with all manner of faerie treats set out on platters and in bowls to satisfy all sorts of Fey. There were fresh fruits and vegetables as well as cooked versions such as roasted potatoes and fruit tarts. A whole, spit-roasted pig lay on a platter and sliced beef was found nearby (not all of it cooked). Bread overflowed handwoven baskets and cooked grains were set out in bowls. I was fine with all that, even the raw meat, but there were also bowls of insects, honey, and some kind of goo I couldn't identify. It smelled . . . green.
I wasn't there for the feast, but what with arguing with Arach, I hadn't finished my dinner, and I was hungry. A hungry Dragon-Sidhe gives new meaning to the term hangry. So, I slid down a wall until I was behind the buffet table, in the space the servers used to refill plates. When no one was looking, I grabbed hunks of meat (the cooked variety) and stuffed my face. It was so good, I groaned.
Someone spoke in Fey nearby. I looked over to see an Earth-Sidhe speaking to a Dryad. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but they were peering in my direction. Damn it!
I hadn't noticed them coming down the buffet table. Which is pretty bad considering the noise the Dryad made. Between the twigs cascading over her shoulders like hair and her tangle of roots for legs, every step she made sounded as if someone was shaking a bag of pretzels. And not the big, soft-baked kind.
Damn it, now I want soft pretzels.
The Dryad responded to the Earth-Sidhe, shaking her head. The Earth-Sidhe frowned in my direction, but moved along, prodded partially by the frilly ends of the Dryad's “feet.” I waited until the coast was clear and grabbed a berry tart. Yup, even better than a pretzel. As I munched, I kept an eye out for King Rory. And other hungry faeries.
After a few minutes, a murmuring caught my attention. I looked up and heard several exclamations. I didn't have to know the language to recognize surprise. However, I did know a few words. One was niomh, which meant beautiful, and the other was the same in English as in Fey—Fire-Sidhe. One guess who they were talking about.
I peered through the crowd, shifting down the wall to get a better look. At last, she stepped into view. Rivella was very pretty, with hair as bright as a sunbeam and fiery eyes to match. Her hair was braided up to show off the long line of her neck, and that damn spidersilk gown my husband had given her enhanced her delicate figure. But honestly, I'd seen far more beautiful women in Faerie. No, it wasn't her beauty that made Rivella stand out. It was her attitude. Charisma. Some people just had it.
What she didn't have was fear.
Rivella walked through the room as if she had every right to be there. She smiled at people and nodded at their bold looks until the Earth Fey had no choice but to smile back. Act as if you belong, and you do. I shook my head in amazement as Rivella took a glass of wine from a server and easily made conversation with a handsome Earth-Sidhe whose hair vines perked up under her perusal.
From my right, I heard someone murmur something with “ri” in it. Ri meant “king” in Fey. I only knew that because my son's name is Rian—little king.
Ha! My prey!I spun in the direction of the voice and found the King of Earth, easily identifiable thanks to the Earth Crown atop his head. Now, that hadn't changed. It was the same crown I'd seen in my time—a band of polished wood with branch-like extensions instead of points, tipped with emeralds carved into leaves.
“Son of a witch,” I whispered.
