The Embassy was empty. All the employees were at the outer gates, staring out through the bars. Although I really wanted to, I knew we couldn't open the gates. It was too dangerous with that many people outside. Even though they were there to support us, there could have been some crazies hiding among them. So, I raced past the embassy employees who held hands and swayed to the music, and ran up the steps to the top of the wall. Once the crowd saw me, the song dwindled off and the applause started. I stared across a sea of humans, candles lifted in support of my family, and it was just too much after the day I'd had. I broke down and wept.
How many years had I fought for them? How many terrible things had I faced? And no one had known. Then I'd gone bad, and Azrael had gone badder, but we turned it around. We helped to fix things. We reintroduced faeries to humans and brought magical advances to Earth. And we protected the unwanted children, those scorned by their own parents. We did what we could to make up for our mistakes, and we had our supporters. Hell, some humans were obsessed with faeries, but this was different.
Alexander's abduction, his rescue by Azrael and me recorded and plastered everywhere, and then the attack on the charity dinner to benefit Wild Fey children—those series of events had been exactly what was needed to turn the tide in our favor. Those scorned children were now real to the world. Babies instead of monsters. Innocent children who could be taken from their parents. Parents who would tear the world apart to get their babies back. That was relatable. It was human. And just when the world was starting to relate to those magic children and see them as special instead of horrifying, someone attacked us. It riled the masses. It made those children theirs. They belonged to the world now.
And the world had come to show its love and support.
The applause softened into silence as the Faerie God stepped out on the wall walk.
Azrael joined me and took my hand. “You have made my wife cry,” he said to the crowd.
The humans went still.
He continued with, “But in the best way possible.” Az put his arm around my shoulders and folded me in under his wing. “I'm deeply moved as well. People have come to show their support of us before, but never in these numbers.” He waved his free hand out to the sea that went on and on, visible only because of the candles that lit the night. “As you must know, one of our special little ones was taken from us recently. Thank goodness, he was found.” Azrael waved his hand out again, this time to our right.
Machar, Slainidh, and Alexander stepped out on the walk, Machar holding Alex in his arms. Alex cringed back from thehumans, but Machar whispered something to him and the boy looked out at the crowd dubiously.
“He doesn't understand that you're here out of kindness, not hatred,” Machar said in his booming voice. “Humans have not treated us well. We are not your kind of beautiful.”
Oh, what perfect words to say in the most perfect way. A ripple of sympathy ran through the crowd. Those there who had ever been looked down on, felt ugly, or just not enough, responded to that. People called out Alexander's name. They waved their hands and signs that read things like, “All children are love,” “Children are Miracles, not Monsters,” and “We love you, Alex!”
Then someone started singing. They sang that damn song to Alex, and I bent forward with the rush of my tears as I watched Alex stare at the humans in shock. Then he started to sway to the music. Then bounce. He patted at his father's shoulder until Machar put him down on the wall's ledge. Alexander, that little boy with a Goblin's face, started to dance slowly and sweetly.
The humans lost their minds over it.
Phones were already filming this, but I noticed some professional cameras among the crowd and knew Alex's dance would be all over the news. With perfect timing, the other Wild Magic children came out on the wall walk—some with their parents and some with their temporary guardians. We got most of the abandoned Wild Fey kids adopted by faeries, but new ones arrived all the time, many just left at the gates. Those kids were the wariest, staring at a crowd of strangers who looked like the parents who had abandoned them.
You gotta understand; the Wild Magic kids were older now, so it wasn't like a mother leaving a bundled-up baby at a hospital. These people had tried to raise their kids and, for whatever reason, decided they couldn't. The kids were left, usually in the middle of the night, with a suitcase, staring off after their fleeing parents with the dazed look of someone who had been tormented by nearly everyone they ever met. Now those same children were faced with a horde of people who were not shouting nasty things at them. They were the most endearing. The kids waving at the crowd were sweet, but it was those hanging back, the scared ones, who made the biggest impact. I could see it on those human faces. Cameras focused on those kids. Didn't they always? Why photograph a dancing child when you could get a shot of a wounded one?
Azrael winked at me, then slid away to gather those shy ones and bring them forward. With his wings around them, he addressed the crowd again. “These are our newest additions to the family. We've got them a little later than the others, so they've known only scorn from humans. They didn't have us to raise them and teach them that they're special. So, I hope you understand their fear.”
A woman in the front started to cry. It spread like wildfire until people were waving and weeping, calling out words of love to the rejected children, words those kids should have been hearing their whole lives but hadn't. The outpouring of kindness was enough to bring the children forward. One, a boy with vines growing out of his skin and hair, peered over the wall and waved tentatively. The crowd cheered for him, and his vines trembled.
“Thank you,” I called out. “Thank you for seeing them for who they are at last. They are magical children. So special and beautiful. There will be no others like them ever again. And thatcan make them feel alone, but tonight you've shown them that they aren't alone. That the world isn't against them. You are with them!”
The crowd cheered, and the children smiled. I glanced over and saw my husbands come up the stairs, Odin among them. His expression was grim. They joined me as Azrael took over again, milking this for all it was worth. Were we exploiting these kids for peace? Yup, but it was for their benefit too. And peace was worth a little exploitation.
“So, I was right?” I whispered as the men reached me.
Odin nodded. “It's gone. Nothing else was taken. Only the condenser.”
“Well, at least they've given us this.”
“What are you talking about?” Re asked.
I blinked. “I . . .” Then the memory surfaced from the confusion. “The trickster,” I whispered. “He told me he was doing this to advance the human race.”
“Yeah, you said that,” Viper said.
“No, she didn't,” Odin leaned in. “She said the trickster was doing this for the humans, not to advance the race.”
“Big diff.” Viper rolled his eyes.
“It is,” Odin said. “Go on, Vervain.”
“He said that I'd thank him when it was over. That we wouldn't have human groups bothering us anymore. They'd see that we were strong but not a threat.” I nodded out toward the crowd. “And here we are. He was right.”
“Damn,” Kirill said. “It vorked.”
