Page 137 of Triumph at Pemberley

Elizabeth cocked her head pensively. “Most likely so. I am trying to envision our news spreading slowly to all the Nests across Europe and the world. It will be the greatest change the dragons have ever known.”

Not everyone would be joyous, though. The image of French sea serpent caves rose before him. “I am glad for the dragons, but I cannot forget the poor sea serpents. With Napoleon dead, how can they ever find the eggs and hatchlings he stole from them? When I met them in their caves on the way to France, their grief was immense. Now they cannot even hope for their return.”

Elizabeth’s face sobered. “The poor creatures! Is there nothing to be done to recover them?”

“Napoleon might have hidden them in Faerie, I suppose. Perhaps I can find a way to send a message to Georgiana. She might know where they are. The High Queen, I mean.” It was hard to remember the little sister he had loved was forever changed.

Hard, and painful.

The lynx rubbed up against his leg. I find. You return.

Darcy rubbed his hand on the lynx’s rough head. I wish it were so simple. They could be anywhere in Europe or Faerie. Even Corsica.

I find. I can find anywhere. I get the smell from you.

His familiar meant well. The lynx had said the same thing when the French Nest fell and Darcy grieved over Jack, believing his brother had been sent to another European Nest where he could never find him. But Darcy did not want to send his familiar on a hopeless, years-long journey.

The fur on the lynx’s neck rose. No! Can find. Royal lynx find anything. Anywhere.

Darcy stared down at the creature. But you are not a royal lynx. He had seen the highly trained lynxes twice, guarding the Wicked King in the tower and then in the clearing.

Yes, royal lynx. Stolen as a kit. By your mother’s familiar, for you. He formed an image in Darcy’s mind of leaping upon the Wicked King and tearing out his heart. Only a royal lynx could get close.

Was that why the fae king had not fled or reacted when the lynx ran towards him? Had he assumed it would protect him? I never knew.

The lynx sat down and began to wash its paws. I did.

Darcy considered this, and then sent to Coquelicot, even though it interrupted the dragon revels. The Wicked King’s lynxes. Do you know anything about them?

Her response carried a note of dislike. They were his bodyguards and a dangerous weapon. They can hunt down his enemies, no matter where they hide, in Faerie and beyond.

They can find things?

Their ability to scent is legendary. Even over hundreds of miles. But you should ask your lynx. He would know more.

Delighted astonishment filled Darcy. He told the lynx, It would be a great gift if you could find the missing serpent eggs and hatchlings. How he would return them was another question, unless he managed to find a helpful sea serpent willing to drag him under the waves again, but the dragons must have some means of contacting them.

He raised his eyes to Elizabeth. “Fire Eyes says he can find the serpent eggs for us.”

Not just for you. Serpents saved you from drowning. Deserve a reward.

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She knelt down beside the lynx and ruffled his cheek. “Fire Eyes, you amazing creature, you never cease to astonish me.”

A rumbling purr showed the lynx’s contentment.

After they came inside from the fireworks, little Sparrow, Elizabeth’s lesser fae friend, skittered across the drawing room floor towards Darcy. “I bear a message for you from Her Most Glorious Majesty, the High Queen,” she said proudly.

Already? He had thought it would be years, if ever, before he heard from Georgiana. Had something gone wrong? “I would be pleased to hear it,” he said cautiously.

“Her Most Glorious Majesty tells me to report she has been greatly welcomed in Faerie, where all the fae are celebrating, from highest to lowest. She is pleased to be bringing them hope, and she wishes you to know she is well,” the lesser fae announced. Then, in her own informal voice, she giggled and added, “Oh, my, the celebrations! No one has ever seen the like. The joy!”

“I see.” Darcy’s throat was thick. “Are you able to deliver a message back to… to Her Glorious Majesty?”

Sparrow drew herself up to her full height, which meant she almost reached the bottom of his waistcoat. “Indeed I can. Her Glorious Majesty has done me the very great honor of appointing me as her Eyes at Pemberley. I am to make regular reports.”

Georgiana wanted to know what was happening to him. It was like a balm to his loss. “Pray tell her I miss her very much, but I could not be more proud of her.”

And suddenly it was true. He was immensely proud of Georgiana. Who could have thought his shy, frightened little sister could take it on herself to kill the Wicked King and bring hope and a bright new future to all of Faerie?