Queen of Aparia (Obsidian Queen Book 5), page 5
“Make yourselves comfortable,” Wallace says like we’re all old friends. “Are you hungry?” Before we can answer, he turns to Dawson. “Send one of your guards to the kitchen and ask them to whip up something for my guests. And close the door behind you—I’d like some privacy.”
Looking like he’d like to smack the prince upside the back of the head, Dawson gives him a curt nod.
Alone with Wallace, we hesitantly find seats. I end up next to Jonathan on a settee, with Rafe on my other side.
Wallace stands at the front of the room, waiting for us to find our places like he’s a professor about to begin a lecture. Once we’re all settled, he says, “I believe introductions are in order. I’m Wallace, Princess Louisa’s half-brother and almost-heir to the Aparian throne. Welcome to my home.”
“Almost heir?” Chloe asks dryly.
Wallace grins at the Squirrel. “Technically, I was the heir until my baby sister was born an Obsidian Urocyon. She dethroned me before her first scream.”
Our group goes completely still as we register his glib remark.
Recovering first, Rafe narrows his eyes on Wallace. “Are you telling us your sister is an Obsidian Fox?”
Wallace’s expression sharpens on me even as he smiles. “Curious, isn’t it? It seems that for the first time in Aparian history, there are two Obsidian Queens in our midst.”
4
If we weren’t on edge before, we certainly are now.
Eric follows Wallace’s eyes to me, and then he gives him a nonchalant grin. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. Maddie’s just a regular Fox.”
Wallace laughs as if delighted, not believing a word of it.
“You can’t lie to a Griffon,” Jonathan reminds Eric, his tone oddly even. “Nor can you hide your magic.”
“What do you want with us?” Rafe demands. “Why bring us here?”
“You’re the ones who came barreling through a relic threshold. I figured you had a purpose. And since you have her with you, I assumed your purpose might lead you here. I simply saved you a few steps—you’re welcome.”
“No one from the human realm has been in Aparia since the gates were closed,” Teagan says evasively. “We came as scouts to see how Aparia fared after the thresholds were destroyed.”
“Adventurers.” Wallace nods. “It’s as good a story as any, though why would you bring your queen?”
“I’m not a queen,” I say, daring him to read the truth in my words. “I didn’t even realize I had Obsidian magic until last year.”
“Interesting,” Wallace muses, and it seems like he means it. He studies me like I’m a puzzle—or worse, a very convenient key. “But I think we’ve gotten off track. Introductions, yes? Who wants to go first?”
We exchange subtle glances, reluctant to give him more information before we know his intentions. And again, I wish Gray were here.
Finally, Teagan stands. “I’m Teagan White, Advisor to Queen Carine.”
Wallace turns to me, lifting a brow. “You’re named after our psychotic ancestor?”
“Carine wasn’t psychotic,” Teagan says sharply.
The prince grins. “You say that like you knew her personally.”
Teagan stares at him, his handsome face stony. My eyes travel back to Wallace, wondering what he’ll make of it.
“All right…” the Griffon says, sounding a touch uncomfortable. Dismissing Teagan, he scans the room for a welcoming face…and lands on Nicole. “What about you, healer?”
Jonathan and Eric tense, ready to step in if needed. Chloe narrows her eyes as Wallace crosses the room, obviously not trusting the prince.
“Oh,” Nicole stammers, brushing her straight, light brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m Nicole.”
Wallace takes her hand, drawing her to her feet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Nicole. I’ve always had such admiration for your faction.”
He then brushes a kiss over her knuckles.
I glance at Rafe, wondering what he’ll make of the flirtatious gesture, but he watches impassively.
Wallace turns to Chloe next, waiting.
She studies him, definitely not liking what she sees. “I’m Chloe, and this is my boyfriend, Eric.” As if daring him to even try to kiss her hand, she grasps Eric’s arm and fixes him with a cool stare.
Wallace nods, amused. He turns to Parker, who sits in a nearby chair. “And you, seeker?”
She blinks her dark eyes at him, obviously not immune to his royal charm. “Parker.” Then she grins. “I’ve never been called a seeker before. It sounds a bit nicer than tracker.”
Wallace smiles and then turns, finally stopping in front of me.
“And Her Highness and her knights.” His eyes crinkle as he studies us. “You must tell me about this dynamic because I admit it’s piqued my interest.”
I feel something sharp from Rafe. Irritation, distrust.
As Jonathan stands, purposely positioning himself so Wallace has to step back and give me a little more space, I widen my eyes at Rafe.
“What is it?” he mouths, startled by my sudden attention.
Whatever I felt…it’s gone now.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“I’m Jonathan Kingman, Knight Marshal,” Jonathan introduces himself. His tone isn’t quite friendly, but it’s not necessarily confrontational either.
“I can’t say I’ve ever met another Griffon before,” Wallace says as they shake hands.
“It’s not a common faction,” Jonathan agrees, frowning at Wallace’s hand before he pulls back.
“I wonder if we are related as well?”
“Distantly, perhaps,” Jonathan answers, obviously not a fan of the idea. I don’t get the impression they’ll be comparing family trees anytime soon.
Feeling awkward, I stand. Rafe immediately joins me.
Looking about as pleased by the situation as Chloe, my Obsidian Knight introduces himself, extending his hand for a quick shake.
“And your faction?” Wallace asks him yet again. “You have me stumped.”
“I have no faction,” Rafe answers.
Wallace’s eyes narrow, traveling from Rafe to me as if he doubts the knight’s sincerity. But without Rafe’s magic, he has no way to read him. “You can be a Struthio or a Passeridae, but you can’t be factionless—not unless you’re human. Which you’re not. I sense something.”
Rafe shrugs, not about to give him any more information.
Looking like he’s torn between wanting to urge Rafe to explain and wishing to learn more about me, Wallace reluctantly turns my way. “Last, but certainly not least, Your Highness.”
The title ruffles me, which I’m sure is Wallace’s intention. He’s getting a feel for us, deciding what type of people we are.
“I’m Madeline Bennet,” I answer mildly, refusing to take the bait.
“Madeline,” he muses. “And how is it an Obsidian Queen came to be linked to a Griffon…” He casts a strange look at Rafe. “When it’s far more common she link with her knight?”
Does he know what Rafe is? Can he read the ghost of his lingering magic?
“Common—and unwise,” Rafe answers.
“You can see our link?” I ask Wallace.
“Somewhat. Because Griffon magic is a void in my vision, I can only see your magic reaching for his.”
I slip my hand into Jonathan’s and silently ask through our connection, “Can you see our link?”
“I can’t, just like I can’t see my own magic, but I could see yours and Rafe’s before we severed it.”
Wallace’s eyes drift to our clasped hands, and then he meets my gaze. “I’d almost swear you were having a conversation without the rest of us.”
“Can you read thoughts?” Jonathan asks, startled.
“I cannot,” Wallace admits, “But am I right to assume you can?”
“It’s extremely rare for a Griffon to have that unique talent,” Jonathan answers cryptically.
“Indeed, it is.” Wallace turns away, clasping his hands behind his back. “Now that we’re all acquainted, I imagine you have questions for me. After all, as you said, this is the first time Aparians from the human world have traveled back to Aparia.”
“But it’s obvious people from Aparia have somehow been back to the human realm,” Rafe says.
Wallace turns to him. “I suppose you would like information about the treaty first?”
“What treaty?” I ask.
“The one my family made with your Royal Guild around forty years ago when we discovered a remaining threshold and came into the human realm to find out what had become of our people who trapped themselves on the other side.”
I stare at Wallace, trying to make sense of it. “You found a threshold that hadn’t been destroyed?”
“Well, I didn’t personally, but yes. We’ve discovered five in the empire, actually. There may well be some beyond, but those are out of our jurisdiction.”
“That’s impossible,” Teagan says, looking as if he’s growing rather agitated. “If Aparians were traveling back and forth between the realms again, we would have known.”
Wallace shrugs. “The Royal Guild claimed you were happy with your magicless existence in the human world—that the people were content, and it would only create fear and panic if they knew some of the gateways were still open.”
My pulse increases as I contemplate his words.
Wallace continues, “When we go into the human realm, we are to hide our magic from the humans, just as you are, and we are to conceal our existence from the Aparians who live on that side of the gates.”
The room is too silent. The idea that we’ve been purposely isolated is more than unsettling.
If only we could tell if he’s lying.
I’m struck by a rogue thought: Jonathan can’t read another Griffon…but can I?
“Give me some of your magic,” I urge through our connection, my fingers tightening over Jonathan’s. “Let’s see if I can read him like I do the thresholds. Because I’m a Fox, perhaps it will work.”
“That’s rather devious,” he teases. “Though I’m not sure you’ll be able to see something I can’t, we can try.”
I take the magic he offers, scanning the room, a bit disconcerted. Ribbons twine around each of my friends, insubstantial like light. All different colors, they flow like water, distracting.
Chloe’s magic is orange, and Eric’s is a shade of aquamarine. Nicole’s is deep forest green, Parker’s is red, and Teagan’s is terrifyingly black.
There’s more, too, in the room itself—wrapping around the houseplant in the corner, shimmering in the air.
I have no idea how Jonathan goes through life seeing this all the time. It’s like another sense, overwhelming. But I suppose if you’ve carried this magic since birth, you’d be used to it.
I’m mildly disappointed when I look at Wallace. Something moves around him, a translucent phantom, only visible by the strange distortion of the things behind him. It’s like looking through water.
Jonathan says the ribbons jump when a person is lying, but I’d never be able to tell.
“I can’t see anything either,” I say through the link.
“It was worth a try.”
“Why would the guild do that to us?” Nicole whispers to the rest of the group, oblivious to our silent conversation, looking shaken.
“Who knows?” I ask Wallace. “How far down the chain of power are we talking about?”
“On your end?” Wallace shakes his head. “As far as I know, only your grand duke. Even your international Royal Alliance is unaware. This was a treaty between my family and the US Royal Guild alone.”
“Duke Faramond is dead,” Rafe says. “He passed away not twenty-four hours ago.”
“Then his heir, I suppose,” Wallace responds. “Someone has the information; I guarantee it.”
I turn to Jonathan. “My father?”
His dark eyes are troubled. “I’ve never even heard whispers of this. I think more proof is needed before we make any judgments.”
“But the technology,” Chloe argues. “It’s different, but it’s based on the same principles. The architecture, the—”
“Clothing,” I interrupt. “That woman’s boots.”
“You’re just upset she got them before you,” Rafe teases, and I shoot him a stern look, trying not to laugh.
“Jonathan’s right—we need more proof.” I turn to face Wallace. “You said your people have found five working thresholds. Is there one near here?”
Wallace crosses his arms, studying me. A pleased smile plays on his lips, making him look entirely untrustworthy. “The closest is a day away by train. Fancy a brief holiday, Your Highness?”
“Where in the human realm does it lead?”
“The Oregon coast. It’s a remote location, warded by magic.”
I turn to Teagan. “Do we have time?”
“It’s Tuesday morning in the human world,” Teagan answers. “Even if we left tomorrow, we’d still have a week before the meeting with the Entitled.”
“We can’t leave until after the duke’s funeral on Thursday,” Jonathan reminds me. “We must make an appearance, or it will raise suspicions.”
But even if we left on Friday, we’d have plenty of time.
The real question is whether it’s a good idea to blindly follow Wallace into the heart of Aparia. Technically, Jonathan and I can open any destroyed threshold we happen upon in case we need a quick exit. Except they’re not that easy to find.
“You look torn, cousin,” Wallace says to me, a little too familiar. “I promise, I have no unsavory intentions. Just think of me as a friendly guide, happy to show you around my fair empire.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“We need to discuss it with Gray as well,” Rafe reminds me.
“He’s right.” Jonathan takes a step toward the door. “We should be getting back.”
Eric agrees, rising. “I promised Charles I’d return before dinner.”
I roll my eyes. There was a time when my cat expected me to feed him his Pedigreed Perfection.
“Who’s Gray?” Wallace asks.
“The leader of our team,” I answer. “And Rafe’s right. We won’t go without discussing this with him.”
Wallace shrugs like it’s not a problem. “Let’s talk to him then.”
I narrow my eyes. “You make it sound like you want to cross back with us.”
“Is that a problem?”
Uh, yeah. Cause he feels slimy as heck. I’m certain he has an agenda—I just don’t know what it is yet.
I look at my knights, trying to get their take on it. Eventually, Eric shrugs, not so subtly patting his ginormous gun.
“I guess it’s all right,” I say reluctantly. “But you have to stay with us—no wandering off.”
Wallace winks at Parker. “If I did, it would only be because I was hoping to be tracked down by a pretty seeker. But I promise I’ll behave myself.”
Parker presses her lips together like she’s trying to trap in a giggle. And who can blame her? How often does a girl get hit on by a prince?
“We don’t have time to waste,” Teagan says. “If we’re going back for Gray and that cat, we best get moving.”
We start toward the door, and Wallace turns to Parker. “We’re going back for a cat? I thought he was talking about a child.”
If Wallace thought his guards would let him waltz out of the castle with a group of heavily armed people who randomly entered the realm through a historical landmark, he would be wrong.
But after much arguing and cajoling, he ends up with one companion—Dawson, the ever-scowling Wolf in the long gray jacket.
“Do you have anything to change into?” I ask him before we leave the castle. “Something less…ren faire?”
“What’s a ren faire?” Dawson narrows his pale hazel eyes at me. He looks like he’s in his mid-thirties, about six-foot tall and somewhat stocky, with light freckles and reddish-brown hair. He’s not devastatingly handsome like my knights, but he’s good-looking, and if he smiled, he might not seem so formidable.
“Never mind.” I decide he’ll take off the jacket when he steps into the summer heat anyway. It’s likely afternoon over there by now. Hopefully, we won’t get spotted on the closed trail. I mean, it’s not like our group is huge and completely conspicuous or anything.
“Wallace!” a female voice calls out before we leave, and we all turn to look for the owner.
The young woman is pretty, with sandy-brown hair a shade darker than Wallace’s, a heart-shaped face, light eyes rimmed with heavy, dark lashes, and sun-kissed freckles across the bridge of her nose.
She also happens to be wearing a tiara, which quite honestly makes her look like a pageant queen in her peridot gown. Though not quite large enough to be a ballgown, the skirt is very full, and the waist is fitted. A string of pearls adorns her throat, matching her simple stud earrings.
Hands clasped at her waist, she watches us with great interest, her entire face glowing.
“Louisa.” Wallace glances at us as if suddenly wary. He hurries to the young woman, noticeably placing himself between her and us. “Why aren’t you at dinner?”
She peers around us, smiling nervously. “I heard something wondrous—that people came through the relic gate in Favermire Square.”
“They’re preparing to leave.” Wallace takes her shoulders and turns her around—all but shoving her off like a mother sending a reluctant child to school. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
Refusing to be moved, she turns back, swatting his hands away. “I want to meet them.”
“I don’t think that’s the best idea—”
She stands straighter. “I command you to introduce me.”
“Louisa.” His voice is on the edge of begging. “Please go.”
My eyes move to the guards behind the woman—she’s backed by no less than six men. They wear navy jackets, like Wallace’s keepers.
This is the prince’s sister, the heir of Aparia. A distant relative of mine and…my direct competition, I suppose.
