Grave Visions Read online

  The man opened the front door, motioning me to exit. Beyond him, I could see a black town car idling at the curb.

  I hesitated and the driver turned toward me. “I’m to remind you of his promptness in responding to your recent calls.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was meant to guilt me or was a threat that I might owe my father a favor, which he could call in at his discretion. Either way, it was a true enough statement. I’d called him several times when all other avenues had closed on me. With a sigh, I retrieved my purse.

  It looked as if I was off to see daddy dearest.

  • • •

  It wasn’t until the driver showed me into the house and led me all the way to the second floor to stop in front of the suite that had, until recently, belonged to my sister but now contained an accidental pocket of Faerie, that the nagging suspicion at the back of my brain beat through my exhaustion and screamed that something was off. Cracking my shields, I studied the driver’s profile. Under the generically familiar face was another, stranger, more striking face. A face that hung in a place of honor at the statehouse.

  My father’s face.

  “I should have known,” I whispered as he opened the enchanted locks on the door. “You never would have sent a staff member to retrieve your witchy daughter from the Magic Quarter. Tongues might wag.”

  My father glanced over his shoulder and grinned. It was one of the most genuine expressions I’d ever seen on him. “You do have a bad habit of seeing through glamour. I simply wanted to test the ability. I take it by how long it took that you have to See intentionally.”

  I didn’t answer. I don’t think he even expected me to, because his grin only grew at my silence.

  “Come in, come in,” he said, ushering me into the room and shutting the door behind us. I felt the magic in the door relock as it closed.

  I shuddered at the feeling. I didn’t like being locked in this room. Well, honestly, it wasn’t this room that was the problem. It was the next. Formerly Casey’s bedroom, it was now the scene of some of my worst nightmares. Mostly because a few months ago I’d nearly died there. As had my sister. Oh yeah, and I’d nearly been the trigger that could have ended the world. Nothing big, right?

  It took more effort to cross the sitting room and enter the bedroom than I’d like to admit, each step twisting my stomach as my clenched fists shook by my sides. But when I crossed the once-invisible line that marked the circle, everything changed.

  I’d been here a few weeks back, so I already expected the maddening mix of merged realities. The pockets of Faerie and the land of the dead that spilled into human reality were splashed around the room like a Pollock painting, the realities bleeding and merging in ways they were never meant to do. But no, that was no surprise to me. What stopped me in my tracks was the sudden lightness I felt. Like my exhaustion had fallen from my shoulders and I could float if needed.

  I don’t know if I made a sound or if it was simply my expression, but my father stopped and his grin fell away. He didn’t just look at me, his eyes scrutinized me, a frown growing across his face.

  “You’re unwell. You should have answered my calls earlier,” he said after an agonizingly long moment.

  “Because that would have prevented a virus?”

  “Alexis, you do not have a virus. You’re fading. I did not expect it to happen quite this quickly, but from the looks of it, you’re teetering into the second phase. I imagine you’ve been feeling rather exhausted for weeks now.”

  I had been, but that was because I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks, wasn’t it? I couldn’t be fading. Could I?

  The fae were said to have been fading before the Magical Awakening. Lack of belief was literally erasing them from the world. That was no longer an issue. In fact, there were rumors of old legends awakening in the few wild spaces left in the modern world. The fae were no longer fading, and surely I, in particular, wasn’t.

  His eyes scanned my face and I could feel him noting my doubt. “Have you ever asked yourself why there are no unaligned fae? All either belong to a court or have taken the vows of the solitary fae.”

  I shrugged. “Because the ruling monarchs take exception and make their lives miserable?” Or at least, that was what was happening in my life currently.

  “Do try to take this seriously,” he said, the reprimand in his voice clear. “Fae must join a court or be granted the vows of the independent fae because it is through their court Faerie sustains them. The more powerful the court, the more fae it can maintain. Without a solid tie to a court, there is only the most tenuous tie to Faerie and the fae will fade.”

  I swallowed, digesting the words. “You’re saying that I’ll die if I don’t join a court?” I reeled under the idea. I’d been told for months I’d eventually have to choose a court, but I’d been avoiding it. If I joined a court, I’d be bound to stay inside the areas it controlled. Nekros was currently inside the winter court, but the doors moved. No one knew when the doors to Faerie would shift, rearranging which court held which territory, but when they did, all fae within that territory would have to follow.

  The courts had a scary amount of power over their subjects, even the independents within the court’s boundaries, but much more over those who’d sworn fealty to the court itself. I hadn’t interacted with all of the courts, but what I’d seen thus far was enough to let me know I didn’t want my life bound to one. Especially not the winter court. But if I joined a different court, I’d have to move. My friends, my business, my whole life was in Nekros—I didn’t want to leave. When Falin had first been ordered to move in with me, I’d sent a petition to be declared independent, but the queen had denied my request.

  And so, I was court-less.

  And that could kill me.

  My thoughts flew to Rianna, whom I’d assumed was sick because she’d been weak, dizzy . . . I didn’t even know what else. “What if other people are bound to an unaligned fae? What happens to them if she fades?”

  My father cocked an eyebrow, interest gleaming through his concern. “Like changelings and lesser fae? What have you gotten into, Alexis?” He rubbed his chin between two fingers and his thumb. “That would explain the acceleration of your decline.”

  “Yes, but what happens to them?”

  “Their tie to you would normally be what ties them back to Faerie. Without that, they will drain you until your self-preservation naturally cuts them off. Then they would fade fast, very fast. Especially if they spent large amounts of time outside of Faerie.”

  Great. My indecision was killing my friends. I had to join a court, and soon.

  Chapter 5

  “I need to sit down,” I said, though this time the sick feeling surging through me had nothing to do with fading.

  My father led me around the patches of decay hanging in the air where reality touched the land of the dead, and deposited me on a large stone bench in the center of the room. Once I sank onto it, I just sat there, staring at nothing.

  I had to join a court. No more waffling. No more hoping if I ignored the issue long enough that it would go away. I had to make a decision. Now. Well, maybe not right this second, but soon. Very soon.

  Fading. I hadn’t even known that was possible.

  “What court are you in?” I asked, the words tumbling over my lips messily, like I was too numb to form them properly.

  “That isn’t your concern.”

  My head jerked up, but my gaze was too sluggish to snap to my father. Finally my eyes found him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the far corner of the room.

  I knew he was court fae, not independent. He’d told me that much, but not to which court he belonged. He wasn’t winter court, which meant he shouldn’t have been in Nekros. He was in deep hiding, but I had no idea how he defied one of the basic laws of Faerie. If I could figure out how he was doing it . . .

/>   My father’s hand shot out and twisted, as if to snatch something out of the air. But he didn’t. At least, not with his physical hands.

  Something moved in the shadows—the same shadows he’d been studying so intently. I hadn’t noticed it when I’d first entered, but the room was bigger than the last time I’d been here. It had been a large but still rather normal bedroom before that fateful night under the Blood Moon, but glancing around now, I realized that there was far too much space for the room’s original dimensions. This pocket of Faerie was growing. And there is something in the shadows.

  A chill swept cold fingers across my nape, and I squinted. My eyes worked better in Faerie than in the mortal realm, and while this small pocket was a mess of planes that shouldn’t have touched, my sight was clear here. Still, the thing in the shadows was so out of context, at first I couldn’t make sense of what I saw. There were wires and wings and limbs . . . I blinked. No, the wires were actually vines, bound tight around a figure I finally identified as a harpy. My father lowered his clenched fist, and the vines drooped downward, lowering the suspended fae.

  She thrashed, the talons at the crooks of her wings straining toward the vines, as did the beak that took the place of her nose and upper lip, and the large talons on her toes. Her efforts gained her nothing. She was well and truly caught, her wings and legs stretched to their limits by the constraining vines. More vines curled around her waist and throat.

  Since the vines appeared to be growing directly out of the wall, I assumed they had been simple glamour initially, but my father must have been very, very good, because this little pocket of Faerie had accepted the vines as real and even with my shields cracked, they looked solid. The vines lowered the harpy until she hung in the air a mere yard ahead of my father. He studied her, shaking his head.

  “Your master’s impatience is noted,” he told her after she finally stilled to hang limply in the restraints.

  “He wanted to be prepared when you returned with the girl,” she said, her voice a harsh squawk.

  I raised a questioning eyebrow at my father, as I was most definitely the girl in question. He didn’t spare me a glance. I did not like where this was going. I considered walking out right then and there, but I had my doubts that I could make it past the magical lock on the door.

  “I appear to be here. Where is he?” My father asked, but while the question was delivered lightly, there was an edge to his voice. He opened his hand, flattening his palm, and the vines fell away from the harpy.

  She touched the ground for only a moment before jumping back into the air, her large wings stirring up gusts of wind as she took off. She soared toward the shadows and they ate her form, swallowing her from sight. I frowned. The unnatural sky where the ceiling should have been showed the night sky of Faerie, the stars so close it seemed that if I stretched I might be able to reach one, but the moon was missing. Either it had set already or it was in the new-moon phase. As it was probably about one in the afternoon in the mortal realm, it was hard to guess what the moon cycle in Faerie might be. Regardless, as the only light filtered in from the stars, the room was darker than the last time I’d been here, but the shadows the harpy had dived into seemed too deep for the length of the room.

  I’d seen harpies before, during my brief visit to the shadow court, so I wasn’t shocked when three figures stepped through what must have been a magical door hidden in the shadows.

  I recognized one of the figures immediately by his oiled black armor, the dark, pointed goatee, and the unconcealed blood coating his palms. The Shadow King. Two steps behind him was a smaller figure, who I guessed must have been the planebender. He would have been the one who opened the hole between this normally closed pocket of Faerie and the shadow court. As with the first time I’d seen him, his small form was obscured by an all-encompassing cloak, a hood pulled down over his face. The third figure I didn’t know. Sleagh Maith based on his striking features and inner glow that made him shimmer despite the shadows around him. His long dark hair hung loose around his shoulders and he wore gray armor similar to the king’s.

  I managed not to scowl at the small group, but it was a near thing. Last time I’d seen the Shadow King he’d followed a rescue from the winter court by locking me in a lavishly decorated room. Circumstances had prevented me from having to find out what the king had planned for me, but now here we were again.

  “I understand you’re acquainted with King Nandin?” my father asked as he ushered me toward the newly arrived party.

  My first instinct was to bark out a curt yes, but even if he wasn’t my king, he was still a Faerie monarch, old and powerful. So I inclined my head slightly and simply said, “Your majesty.”

  “Dearest niece,” he responded, lifting his arms to engulf me in a hug.

  Oh, did I mention the shadow king was my great-granduncle on my mother’s side? I didn’t return the hug, but I didn’t pull away either. As soon as he dropped his arms, I stepped back, out of reach. If he noticed, he didn’t point it out, but instead turned to the stranger with him.

  “Alexis, this is Dugan.”

  The gray-armored Sleagh Maith bowed, which made me wonder if I was supposed to curtsy or something. As I was in leather pants and knee-high boots instead of a skirt, I decided that would look ridiculous. Instead I lifted my hand in a halfhearted wave.

  “Uh, hi?” I said, and then turned a questioning look at my father.

  He smiled, but it was his politician smile, the one that looked genuine, even crinkled the edges of his eyes, but wasn’t real. “Dugan is prince of the shadow court.”

  Good for him? I didn’t say it aloud though. Instead I said, “So does that make you my cousin?”

  Dugan jerked, as if my words had stung him. It had seemed an innocent enough question.

  The king chuckled, shaking his head. “No, my dear. You share no blood, nor I with him. The title is honorary, and indicates to the court that one day I may step down and make him king.”

  Okay. I glanced between my father, the king, and Dugan. I’d thought my father brought me here for a glamour lesson, but apparently not. I had a growing suspicion that he wanted me to join the shadow court—that was the only reason I could think of for the king and prince to be here.

  A moment passed before Dugan turned to my father. “She doesn’t know?”

  My father gave the other fae a nonchalant shrug. “Your king was impatient.”

  Dugan’s brow knotted, and then he stepped forward. He bowed again, taking my hand. “My lady, it is a great pleasure to see you again.”

  I frowned. “Have we met?”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  I tried recalling having ever seen Dugan before. It was possible that I had caught a glance of him at the fall equinox, but that was recent and I certainly hadn’t interacted with him. He had to mean when I was a child. If so, I had no memories of him.

  My father stepped to my shoulder. He pitched his voice in a low whisper, his words meant only for me. “Dugan is your betrothed.”

  I jerked my hand out of Dugan’s and reeled back, away from the group. No one tried to stop me. All three fae watched me, expressions inquisitive but distant.

  “You have to be kidding,” I said, focusing on my father.

  “I would never joke about such things. You have been affianced since birth.”

  I laughed, I couldn’t help it. Between learning I was fading and taking my friends with me, and learning I was betrothed, I’d had too many shocks in a short period of time. It was laugh or scream.

  “Dugan has an impressive pedigree,” my father said, his tone making it clear he disapproved of my behavior. “His many times great-grandfather was a planeweaver, so there is a higher than average chance your child will inherit the ability.”

  I thought about that. About what I knew of my father. About what he’d said the last time I was here when he
’d told me Casey was none of his, simply a backup of my mother’s genetic line.

  “And engineering planeweavers is what this really boils down to, isn’t it? You think I want to be part of your little breeding program? Well, think again.”

  My father lifted his hand in a placating gesture. “Be reasonable, Alexis. The fae have gone without planeweavers too long. There are kinks and knots in the fabric of Faerie’s reality and planeweavers are needed to unravel and mend the damage. You have an opportunity to help all of Faerie.” He must have been able to tell by my expression that I wasn’t buying any of it. He sighed. “You have to join a court anyway. Entering, say, a twenty-year union with Dugan would solidify your position in fae society as well as give you a companion who can guide you in the intricacies of court and help you master your glamour. The child produced by such a union would be an extra bonus.”

  I just blinked at him, not sure what to say. So of course, what fell out of my mouth when I opened it focused on only the least important point. “You mean marriages among fae expire?”

  “Of course. Fae are near immortal. Divorce would get very tedious otherwise.”

  Right. Of course. Why not? I shook my head, trying to jar my thoughts into something akin to order. It was no use, I had too many things vying for attention. I needed to get away from here. To think things through. To plan my next step.

  No one planned to give me that opportunity.

  “Listen, Dugan,” I said, turning toward the prince. He was tall, which wasn’t surprising as most Sleagh Maith were, and I could admit he was nice to look at, but I just wasn’t interested. Besides, I had a boyfriend already, of sorts. “I’m sure you’re an interesting guy and all, but I don’t know you—”

  Dugan stepped toward me. “I had not anticipated the need to court you, but of course I am willing.”

  Gee, how romantic.

  The shadow king whispered something to Dugan. I couldn’t hear what was said, but my would-be suitor’s face darkened even as he nodded.