PRINCES & TRAITORS The Journals of Voren, Book 3 by Dana Pratola

PRINCES & TRAITORS Copyright © 2021 by Dana Pratola All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. **This book has adult themes and contains sex scenes in the context of marriage and may not be suitable for children under 18. Book and Cover design by Cecilia Marie Pulliam First Edition: July 2021 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 For information : [email protected] http://www.DanaPratolaRomance.com *NOT a stand-alone novel

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DESCENDED Jett Sebastian Aaro Ulrick

The Journals of Voren Kings & Captives Faeries & Warriors Princes & Traitors (Coming Soon)

Standalone A Thankful Christmas K-I-S-S-I-N-G Like a Country Song The Haunting of Josiah Kash

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Also By Dana Pratola

Princes & Traitors (The Journals of Voren, #3)

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

EPILOGUE

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AKNOWLEDGEMENTS God, I can’t do ANY of this without you. Family – LOVE Cecilia Marie Pulliam – You are amazing!

CHAPTER 1

FREY AND GARD brought the documents for inspection to King Qeron’s office, and Gard dropped the leather satchel on the desk. “All you need for inspection,” Gard said. “But as far as learning what his men are up to....” He shook his head. “There is nothing in any area I had access to, including Tralg’s office.” “As I suspected,” Qeron said. “Tralg likely gives them their orders verbally. No paper trail.” “I would have tracked them, but you said to come back right away.” Ryor nodded. “You did fine. I am going to the nipak keep to see what news there is.” There would be none if the nipak hadn’t happened upon Tralg or his men, but it was better than standing here watching his father. Something was happening there. He might be unwell. He’d asked him before, but his father denied every time he was sick. He would ask Torin. Although, if Torin knew, the king had sworn him to secrecy, and by comparison, the command of a prince held little weight. “Since you’re back, I need you to train my wife and her ... blue friend,” he told Gard. “Without question,” Gard said. “There is no animosity toward him? For what he did to you?” “None, my prince. He was not responsible.” Ryor nodded. “Frey, you too. They are to train only indoors.” “Without question,” Frey replied immediately. Then, “But I have a question.”

Ryor tilted his chin at him. “Is this activity, or serious training?” He wanted to say activity. It would give them something to do. But the more he saw the odd behaviors of his father’s Chief of Forces, the more he felt they needed to be ready. For what, he could only guess. He knew one thing. No matter the cost, he would protect Evangeline. “Serious.” Frey nodded and leapt onto Gard’s shoulder. “As you requested.” “No harbori.” Frey gave him a salute, and he and Gard left. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you?” Ryor asked his father. Qeron opened his mouth when his holowatch went off. “It’s Tralg.” He gestured Ryor to stay out of sight and quiet, then answered. “Yes, Tralg.” “King Qeron. I just received disturbing news.” “Oh?” “I sent some of my men on a training exercise to the Seareham Islands and they reported finding Royal Guardsmen cleaning up after a slaughter.” “Yes, I’m aware.” “You are? I was just there, and you didn’t mention it. What happened?” Qeron acted as if it was of no consequence and waved a hand. “There was no need to involve you, Tralg. Ryor and his men happened upon a rogue band of Cri’ar. A fight ensued. As you know, it happens from time to time.” “That’s terrible,” Tralg said, sounding genuinely upset. “Intolerable. I can’t believe the nerve of those alien scum.” “Yes,” Qeron said. “It’s fortunate our men happened by.” “Why did they?” Tralg asked. “I mean, why were they there?”

Hairs on the back of Ryor’s neck twitched, and he wondered if his father’s did as well. “Executive Fera invited him when she came for the wedding supper,” Qeron said. “Nothing official. She said if he was in the area that she would welcome him, and since he and his men were headed to the Faerie Wood anyway to retrieve Daniel.... Tralg, why do you show such interest in the goings on of the prince?” “It’s my job, is it not? Without enough men to shield him, the enemy scum might have murdered him. I should have been there.” “To be accurate, your job is to protect me, and the realm,” Qeron said, flippantly. “But maybe if there’s a war, you can be present for that.” Tralg laughed. “I shall definitely be present for that.” “You sound a little eager,” Qeron said. “Has all that time in Apirno made you itch for the scent of blood?” “You might say I’m feeling my age and don’t want to grow stiff as a rusted kettle.” Qeron laughed as well. “You are a good soldier. And a good friend. Let’s try to keep you around as long as possible.” “I thank you for your trust, my king,” Tralg said. “You’ve earned it.” Qeron smiled. “Now I must away to my son’s for dinner. We’ll speak tomorrow.” He disconnected from the holowatch and turned to Ryor, his smile already gone. “The man is out to kill me. This isn’t good.” Much as he hated to agree, Ryor nodded. “What will you do?” Qeron looked out the window. “Nothing, I suppose. Perhaps he will be my end. Full circle. Apt, in many ways.” “What are you saying?” Ryor asked, disturbed and agitated. “That man may be planning an attempt on your life and you won’t stop him?” He came to stand in front of his father. “Is your health failing? Is it something you haven’t told me?”

Qeron grasped Ryor’s arm. “I’m fine.” “You’re not. Lately you seem increasingly ... halfhearted in most matters. As if you’ve given up.” “Given up what?” Ryor threw his hands in the air. “Life. I don’t know. I will kill him myself.” “As yet, he has done nothing to warrant death, or in fact even to arrest him,” Qeron said. “So we wait for that act? The one that kills you, to make his execution just?” Qeron offered him half a smile. “The anniversary is next month. Your mother’s.” Yes, of the day she died. Ryor resisted the urge to roll his eyes, as he’d seen his wife do many times. “What has that to do—” “I am to reunite with her soon. I know it. Just as I know when the time comes, a choice will come as well. But even with you, and all I have here, I don’t think I’ll be able to summon the strength to turn from her and stay here. Can you understand that, Son?” As absurd as this conversation was, yes, Ryor thought he could understand. Especially when he thought of Evangeline and the idea of leaving her. But his mother was not Evangeline. His father was a complicated man, but would he turn his back on the living for a dead traitor? “I understand your feeling—” “Then please, also understand that I am not looking for my death. I am not forfeiting my life and I don’t want to be murdered. I am in no hurry to leave you, Ryor. But your time is almost upon you. You must rule.” Ryor opened his mouth but found he had nothing to say. “Be an excellent king,” Qeron said. “Love your wife, and your children, and your kingdom. Above all, love your God.”

Uncomfortable, Ryor smirked and shuffled his feet. “These sound like last words, Father.” “No. Just timely ones.” Qeron slapped him on the back. “Come. Let us see what the nipak have seen.”

AS FAR AS TRALG’S BAND of men, they now knew he’d sent them to Seareham. But not why. Not a training mission, the real why. The nipak had made no note of them so far, through the direct line of age from Apirno to Seareham, which meant they had travelled farther out, out of their way. Why? Ryor ordered the nipak gathered and inspected. Having them brought in could take the rest of the day, so he went to change into fighting clothes. There was no one better with a warbow, but in hand-to-hand combat, or with steel, Gard outmatched him. His insight and instruction could be invaluable. He heard the grumbling and grunting before he pulled open the heavy wooden door. Inside, Evangeline was on her back on the left side of the arena, Daniel sitting on her stomach, her arms pinned by the wrists under his hands. “Get off me, you oaf,” she said, with little heat. “Make me.” “I can’t, you’re on my arms.” “Right. Get free and make me move.” Ryor watched from the doorway, wanting to see how she would handle this situation. She had strength, yes, and though not that of a typical Voren woman, she could do damage if trained properly. “Is this punishment for elbowing you in the—” “Ha! You’d have to have hurt me for me to want revenge.” Evangeline struggled, but to no avail. “Okay, this is going nowhere,” he said. “Thrust up with your hips as hard as you can.” She did, but barely moved him. “Harder! Like your life depended on it.”

She did it again, this time sending him forward onto her face. “Good,” Daniel said. “Again. This time when you bridge and I come forward, turn your head, snap your wrists free, and get your arms around my waist really quick, as high as you can.” She did. “Now what?” “Take your left arm and wrap it around mine. Pull it in and turn, push me off and get out.” She did as she was told, but too slowly, so Daniel had her repeat it until she did it fast enough, and to his liking. Ryor smiled, proud of his wife. And pride wasn’t all he felt watching her. Finally, she jumped to her feet, excited. “Did you see that?” “Yes, I was right here,” Daniel said. “Nice work.” “I saw, too,” Ryor said. They looked at him, Daniel’s face a bored mask, Evangeline’s lit with happiness. “I got out!” she said. “It was pretty easy, too.” “Well, not that easy,” Daniel mumbled. She laughed. “I bet I can escape you, too,” she told Ryor. “I’ll take that bet,” he answered and walked to her, taking her by the hand and putting her on the floor. Her eyes lit with mischief when he took a position over her, pinning her hands near her ears while trying not to put his full weight on her hips. She tried to hide a knowing smirk, which did nothing to help the stirrings he was already feeling. “I’m probably too heavy for you,” he said. She winced a little when he shifted. “No, I’m fine.” “Okay then. Move me.”

She tried. She really did. But he was at least sixty-eight kilograms heavier than Daniel, even at his bulked-up weight. Dislodging a Voren man would take a great deal more strength and skill, or in her case, a weapon. “This ... isn’t fair,” she said, trying to thrust her pelvis. “It will not be fair when a man tries to subdue you,” he said. He almost felt sorry for her. “Plan a way of escape.” She tried a little longer, then stopped struggling and looked up at him, eyes wide and sad, filled with hopelessness. Defeated. He thought she might actually cry, and while he couldn’t imagine a Voren woman doing that, was intrigued enough to push back a little to inspect her more closely. The moment he shifted his weight to the left, she bucked up and nearly unseated him. He quickly regained control and grinned at her. “That’s a clever Earth decoy, is it not? Crying, to illicit sympathy?” She smiled up at him. “And would have worked, too, if you weren’t so ... large.” He repositioned, moving his lower body off of her while his top half now shadowed her. “I think, wife, that you are trying to engage me in other ways.” “For combat,” she said, batting her lashes. He loved her lashes, so thick and long, unlike most Voren women. They reminded him of moorefrost flowers, fanning themselves on a hot day. Individual, bright, beautiful. Ryor bent his head to her ear. “Whatever your intentions, I believe I have the upper hand.” She raised her hand in such a way as to make him think she was going to try a move on him, but then it released to the floor and came up again to his lightly whiskered cheek. She turned her head and kissed him. His blood flowed downward, downward, until he knew they would be in a most telling position before long. Coupling in front of witnesses was not his mission. When they parted, he studied her a moment longer, taking in the cloudy gaze in

her eyes. He smiled. “Careful, wife. You wouldn’t begin anything in front of your friend....” She blinked. “Especially when you are as susceptible as I.” He leaned back, stroking her cheek with a large finger. “Some moves are as dangerous to the offense as defense. It’s wise to that.” Daniel cleared his throat a few feet away, causing them both to look up. “Are you two going to fight or what?” he asked. Ryor and Evangeline took a moment to ponder the question before Ryor stood up and helped her to her feet. “I think we’ll practice the bow a while.” “Oh, good!” she said with a small clap that pleased him immensely. “I think I’m getting pretty good at it.” “So do I,” Ryor said. Daniel rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s get to work.”

CHAPTER 2

IF EVANGELINE WAS the worrying sort, panic would have set in by now. Studying self-defense was one thing, practicing with various weapons, another. That was all fine, but it was the intensity with which Ryor presented these skills. As though it wasn’t just for fun, but necessity. Did he really think she would need these skills? For what? When? One night in bed after a post-workout shower, she pushed back from Ryor’s arms and asked him directly. “What kind of danger do you think I’m in?” “What makes you think I believe you to be in danger?” “The way you’re training me.” “Am I too rigid with you?” “No ... yes. I don’t mean too, just that it seems ... serious. Like you’re expecting something to happen and want me ready.” “You were training before I knew, were you not?” “Yes. But that was just for fun. Now that you know, we’ve taken things up a bunch of notches.” “I don’t think you’re in danger presently. It’s my duty to see it stays that way.” She licked her lips and blinked slowly. “Okay, but for the sake of argument, if I was to become ... endangered ... what would be the source? I mean, what would I have to fear?” “Abduction, rape, torture, death. One or all, in no particular order.” Evangeline’s eyebrows rose high. “Really?” He stared at her blankly. “I was ... I

didn’t think there really was.... Really?” Ryor rose on his elbow and took her chin in his hand gently, his thumb absently rubbing her bottom lip. “You are not on Earth, Evangeline. Nor are you a commoner. Royals have enemies, within and without. If it will calm your mind, you are quickly becoming a worthy opponent. It may surprise anyone who seeks your harm, to find their own suddenly upon them.” She couldn’t help smiling, even through her concern. “You think so?” “If you your training, yes. You have the advantage of appearing slight. A sure target.” He leaned over and kissed her nose. “But you and I know better.” He studied her then, for a rather uncomfortable time, until he finally dropped his hand from her chin. “I’m sorry I took you,” he said quietly. “What? What does that mean?” “I should not have taken you from your home planet. Should not have made you my own.” “You ... regret marrying me?” She pushed further away. Ryor placed a hand on her hip. To keep her from leaving, she supposed. “I should not have made you mine because now that you are, you will always be. I will never give you up, masevina. I will fight for you, kill for you. Die for you.” His voice had taken on the barbed timber of a warrior and shook her to her core. He meant every word, and to think he meant them because of her was fantastic in a bizarre way. Ordinary men didn’t literally fight and die for those they loved. Though they did in Voren, didn’t they? She couldn’t imagine such a fate. Not for the man she loved with all her heart. “Don’t say that, she said, nuzzling under his chin.

He put his arm around her. “Why not?” “Because you sound worried, and you shouldn’t be. I’m here, and nothing is going to happen to me. I’m not going anywhere.” “You’ll forgive me if I take steps to make that so. My father thought the same of my mother. But one day she was here, one day not.” His tone could mean he thought she might leave him intentionally, like he believed Linda to be doing before she died. The tips of her ears tingled from the blood rising there, flushing her skin with the pink hue of shame, and she was thankful for the low light. She’d been reading his mother’s diary—skipping details of her lovemaking with Qeron—learning of her love for him and Ryor, and her love of motherhood. All deep, intimate feelings. But Evangeline hadn’t said a word to Ryor, not even to tell him that the diary was written proof that Linda would not have left them if she’d had a choice. No, she couldn’t say anything yet. She understood human nature, and that, though halfway through the diary, any story could change course. She did plan to tell him and to hand the book over. For now, however, it was a private communication between Earth women. She and her mother’s friend. Her motherin-law. “I will see to the nipak this evening,” Ryor said. “They should give me a clearer idea what is happening in the area.” “You guys put a lot of trust in those annoying birds, don’t you?” Ryor chuckled. “Yes, they can be annoying. They not only witness most things in Voren, but have great insight.” “Insight?” “They show things from their perspective, but can also imprint their impression of an event on their memory.” “Hmm. I thought they were just feathered spies.” “And the way spies can draw their own conclusions, so do they.”

“I’m confused.” She shook her head. “How do they tell you anything? They don’t talk, do they?” “Would you like to see?” Her eyes widened with excitement. “Yes, very much!” “Come.” Ryor got out of bed. “You mean now?” “Why not?” He started dressing. True. Why not?

THE NIPAK KEEP in Qeron’s palace very much resembled the tower room Ryor had thrown her in on her first day here. The same shape, and made entirely of brick with a stone floor, but there was no roof, and part of the outside wall had been lowered allowing the birds to come and go. She looked around at the oddities, fascinated and a little afraid of the enormous birds. She was used to sparrows, robins, blue jays, not these eagle-sized creatures. Some flew overhead and landed on branches suspended above her. The room smelled of bird droppings, but there were none that she could see on the floor. Even as she thought it, a round vacuum like thing rolled across the floor sweeping up seeds and feathers. “You guys have roombas here?” she asked. Ryor looked at her curiously. “Never mind.” “Hello,” King Qeron said, as he entered the room. Seeing Evangeline, he gave her a nod. “King Qeron,” she acknowledged with a curtsy. He waved it off. “Let’s stop with those,” he said. “You’re a princess. And you’re not very good at that.” He walked away, leaving her wondering what it was about her curtsy that he found lacking. She’d thought she had it just right. Ryor smirked. “Walfar!” he called. A man came out of a room and hurried forward. He looked like he’d been letting the birds nest in the tangled hair trailing down his broad back. He glanced at her, then to the king. “Sire. You wished to see the nipak?” he asked, gesturing to a few multi-colored birds sitting on a long perch. “I’m only ing by,” Qeron said. “I have a question for the witnesses of the armory theft,” Ryor said. “Bring

them.” “You just ... ask them?” Evangeline asked. He nodded. She was more than a little shocked ... until she ed what Ryor had said about “animals” and their place in the hierarchy here. There was still so much she had to learn. To her utter amazement, one bird jumped to her shoulder. It must have weighed five pounds. Light for a bird this size. “W—What’s it doing?” she asked, sure that the creature would sense her fear and peck her eyes out. Ryor had told her never to look one in the eye, and here it was doing it to her! She remained still, but pulled her head back as far as it would go and closed her eyes. “Interesting,” Qeron said. “What’s this about, Walfar?” “I don’t know. She’s never done that,” he answered. “She wants to have a look at you,” Ryor said, though he sounded unsure as well. “She must find you as unusual as you do her.” “Will she bite? Or peck?” Evangeline asked. His pause didn’t instill confidence. “I don’t believe so. Walfar, would you take her?” She felt the weight of the bird lift from her shoulder and opened her eyes. To find it looking back at her through those diamond eyes. She could be crazy, but the way the bird tilted its head back and forth, it looked as if it was waiting for something. Maybe it was as simple as trying to figure her out, but Evangeline was getting a little freaked. “I ... uh.... What’s it want?” “Nipak are peculiar creatures,” Ryor told her. “So you’ve said. And moody.” “Moody,” he repeated, trying the word on. “Yes, you might say that.”

“Ryor, I’ll see you in my office in thirty minutes,” Qeron said, and strode out. “So, how do they communicate?” Evangeline asked. “You ask them a question....” Ryor smiled, proud, it seemed, to show her something of his world. Walfar returned with two different birds. “These saw a theft last night,” he said. “It was nothing. Just boys trying to steal a few weapons.” “That’s not a big deal?” “They are being punished, have no fear.” She had fear, now, for the boys. “What are you doing—” “Here, my prince.” Walfar set down a pair of birds, who squawked and fluttered beside them. “Sheea and Hubly,” he said, indicating who was who. “Do they all come in pairs?” she asked, iring the beautiful plumage and avoiding their eyes. The other birds, too, had been male and female, and looked similar to these, the male’s eyes more silver, the female’s a muted orange. “No.” Ryor said. “Though in order to speak to us, the tellers need to have a mate. A presenter. All nipak share stories. What one sees, they all see, but only those with a mate can share the information with us.” “What? That’s ... wild.” “Wild?” Ryor shrugged. “Yes, they are that. Not very proper house dwellers.” She giggled. “I forget you don’t get my language sometimes.” He seemed to consider this for a couple seconds, then turned back to the birds. “Why do they have to have a mate?” she asked. “Internally, they all have the complete story. But in—” “Okay, what did you mean by, what one sees they all see?”

“I couldn’t explain to you how, but they all see everything. They are intimately connected. However, in order to share, there has to be a mate. The male rests his head against the female, and she will show through her eyes the event being recalled.” “How do they know your language and what you’re asking?” Her voice had risen with the excitement. This was so interesting! And Ryor was looking more than pleased to explain it to her. “How do you know Frey’s language?” He shrugged. “There is much we don’t know about them. We know that they understand us and seem to want to help.” One bird squawked and hit the other with a wing. “They don’t seem ill-tempered to you? Why would they want to help?” “We don’t question them about that,” Ryor answered with a mild chuckle. “We appreciate their efforts and reward them with food and shelter.” She didn’t want to get into the what’s and where’s, but was interested in seeing them show something. “So....” She gestured for him to do his thing. Ryor nodded and directed his speech to the bird. “Show me the trouble at the armory last night.” Hubly dropped his head against Sheea and almost instantly, each segment of Sheea’s eyes turned over, like a flip book, showing the image she—or another bird—had witnessed, four boys picking a lock and opening a heavy metal door. “Amazing!” Evangeline said, mesmerized as she watched the boys disappear inside the building as clearly as if she had witnessed it firsthand. She shook her head, unable to do anything else. Sheea showed the boys coming out again a few minutes later, one of them carrying a small wood box. Judging from the way he carried it, it looked heavy. “What’s in there?” she asked.

“Earth ammunition, actually,” Ryor said. “Not worth much on Earth, but to a collector here, quite valuable.” She wanted to ask how Voren had come by it, but didn’t want to be distracted. “So, nipak can’t ever be wrong then. I mean, you have video proof.” “Right. And once they have seen it, it stays within them all. If one loses a mate, a new mate can work. But finding one.... They know who they belong with. Who they belong to. Finding a replacement for that is difficult.” He looked at her for a long moment, and she thought he meant to kiss her, but he turned his face and stroked a finger down the bird’s back. It arched against him, then quickly turned and tried to peck his finger. He laughed. “And they don’t forget?” she asked, changing the subject. “I mean, if one forgets something, I guess the others compensate?” “No. As long as a nipak lives, it’s memories live with it. Although not always so clear.” “That’s crazy!” she said, tempted to reach out and pet the bird herself. She didn’t. “Having all those memories—not just their own, but all the others’, too. Wow!” “Perhaps it factors in to why they’re disagreeable,” Ryor said. “Overstuffed brains.” She laughed. “One thing I don’t get though, is why you needed these two? If they all have the same memories, why not just grab any two —” The birds huffed and hissed and flew off. “I’ve insulted them again?” Ryor nodded. “We can use others, but they saw the event first hand so their memories are sharper than the rest, not cluttered by the bird’s other memories.” “So, because they were there, the memory has more prominence in their mind.” Ryor smiled. “With time, as many who shared a memory die, it becomes

foggier.” “That makes sense. Sort of.”

CHAPTER 3

RYOR LED HER OUT of the keep and into a wide, empty hallway. Tapestries hung here, as they did throughout most of the buildings she’d been in, covering large segments of the stone walls. She seemed ... unimpressed with the drab walls in their castle, so he planned to have tapestries designed for them. “Don’t let the nipak disturb you,” he said as they walked. “They are a bit ... condescending.” “So, it’s not just me,” she said with a chuckle. “No. Because their gift is useful, it has given them a self-importance that dictates their behavior with us.” “Snobs.” “They are wise and of great asset not only to humans, but other beings, though in different ways. They are greatly respected in most cultures, and when they die, the people take care with their remains.” “Care? What do you mean?” “In Formerly, it’s so rare to see a nipak that if they find a corpse, they enshroud it in lilinium in the hope the spirit will return one day and bring it back to life, blessing them with its presence.” Evangeline tilted her head to better aim her look of disbelief. “In the nipak community, they often bury their mate themselves and go there frequently to be near them.” “Aww. That’s romantic.” Ryor shrugged. “In the farm region, they burn the remains and scatter them over the fields. It’s not enough to nourish the soil, but is said to bring luck and a good

harvest. Symbolic.” “Like a sprinkling of faerie dust.” Ryor paused and looked at her. “You know nothing of faerie dust, do you?” She giggled. “Well, according to some Earth movies, it can make children fly.” She pulled back for a moment. “Wait, maybe that’s pixies. I may have my characters mixed up.” “They’re pixids, and yes, you do. Pixids never made anyone fly, child or adult. Faerie dust can in fact make men float, but it’s not for their good fortune. They float up and away, carried by the winds until the dust wears off.” “And then?” She looked like she might have an idea. “They fall. It’s for war.” Evangeline nearly gasped. “That’s grizzly!” “Faeries actually need the dust to fly, but since they can only use their wings during wartime, they would otherwise drift away, so don’t use it often.” “Wait, why can they only use their wings during war?” “Well, wings make them extremely effectual in the air, and in years past, they would war with their own kind. It got to be they were fighting all the time.” “I thought faeries were benevolent? Cheery?” Ryor shook his head. “Generally, they’re a raucous, drunken lot who find toying with humans and one another endlessly amusing.” “Pranksters?” He did not know what that meant. “Joking. Mischief-makers,” she supplied. “Ah yes. For example, they use a different variety of faery dust to make a person ... amorous.”

“What’s wrong with that? There are drugs for that on Earth.” “Then they are put in an eudol nest, or a dragon bog. Another reason for regulating use of wings,” he added. “Anyway, it does not end well for them. Those who survive often become legend and leaders.” He shook his head. “Having survived an attempt to couple with an eudol is hardly a qualification for leadership.” She shook her head slowly, unsure if he was lying. She was a perceptive one, his bride. He only wished he were lying. “But they are our allies. Their fighting skills are as treacherous as they are inventive. Daniel has learned a lot, I am told.” “When can I meet them?” she asked, surprising him. “Well, I suppose you should, since you are a princess.” “But not their princess?” “No. They have their own system of government, that, like their fighting, makes little sense. To some facets of their history, they cling fervently. To others, hardly at all. At present, they follow an Innovian named Caprion. He’s not even part faerie, yet they extol him as their leader. More a figurehead.” “Isn’t that unusual?” “Very. His name means shelter of trees. They say he was born of the woods.” “Born of the woods? What does that mean?” “It refers to his having had no mother, no father. He came from the forest.” She paused, serious, then grinned and waved her hand. “Go on. That’s just foolishness.” “Why? Merfolk have no parents.” “He’s a man, not a merman. And Daniel told me they have parents. Not as you and I do, but there are male and female that ... you know.” She shook her head,

then shrugged. “So why do they follow him? Does he have powers?” “Powers?” Ryor asked. “You know.” She wiggled her fingers around her head. “Magic. Can he turn people into tree stumps or something?” Ryor laughed. “Your estimation of magic is bewildering and far too entertaining.” She smirked. “I’m glad you think so.” “Are you?” She opened her mouth, but closed it again. He stepped closer, but didn’t touch her. “Your knowledge—” he said the word like a joke “—of faeries no doubt comes from Earth bedtime stories, yes?” Her expression seemed insulted, but he couldn’t be sure. “In fact, I know what I know from Daniel. He’s into all that stuff.” “Well, he has much to learn,” he replied with a smile. “I shall take you to meet them.” At once any insult she may have had vanished. “Good. I’d like to meet Lizzbre. Is that how you say it? Lizz-bre, like in breath?” “Yes. But why do you want to meet her?” She shrugged. “Daniel is my friend. Don’t you check out the girls your friends date?” “No, I don’t check out my friends anything. And what is date?” “You know....” She looked at his confused expression. “Wait, maybe you don’t. Dating’s when you’re going together... Spending time together. Before you’re married.”

Ryor’s brows drew together. “Ah. We don’t have a term for it here. We choose our mate and marry.” “Well....” She took his hand and stopped his progress down the hall. “Wait. How do you choose a mate if you don’t spend time with them first?” “We spend time with them after we choose them. Enough to decide. If two don’t agree after a period, they are free to pursue other mates.” She shook her head again. “That’s like jumping right into going steady.” “Going steady,” he repeated. “There are many you need to teach me.” He started walking with her again. “On Earth, you see someone you think is cute or interesting, and you date, you go out together to the movies or dinner, or ... I don’t know, roller skating?” He did not know what that was, but decided not to interrupt. “If that goes well, after a while, you go steady, become exclusive. That means you only date each other. And after a time of doing that, you decide if you’re thinking of marriage.” “You spend all that time before you are sure you wish to marry them?” When she nodded, he shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t live on Earth. You spend too much time deciding. Not enough doing.” She giggled. “From personal experience, let me say here, there’s too much doing and not nearly enough time letting a girl make up her own mind.” He opened his mouth to refute her, but this time she spoke over him. “It’s better to know going in whether someone really wants you. It’s better to have a person want you than to be stuck with you.” Her tone was jovial enough, though her words were hard to hear. Did she feel stuck? Still? He decided to ask, and pulled her to the side, bracing his hands beside her shoulders against the wall. She looked up at him, eyes concerned and a little confused.

“Evangeline....” He looked away, wondering if he should ask at all. What if she told him what he didn’t want to hear? The stall itself was like a bucket of cold water. He did not stall. He confronted. “Do you feel stuck?” Dread punched him in the gut when she didn’t answer. It hit him again when she smirked and half-chuckled. He should not have asked. “Forget I asked,” he said, and started to back away. But she gripped his shirt front and pulled him to her. “Wait,” she said. “You don’t get to ask that question and then not let me tell you.” She paused then, looking at him closely. “Are you afraid to hear my answer?” “I’d be a fool not to be afraid, wouldn’t I?” Her eyes softened, her lips trembling, and her small hands came up to bracket his cheeks, urging his face down to meet hers even as she stood on tiptoe. She met his lips with a hard, smacking kiss, then pulled away, eyes glistening. “No, Ryor, I don’t feel stuck with you. Not anymore.” “But you did.” “Of course I did. You abducted me.” He lowered his head. “But it might have been the best thing to happen to me,” she said. “Now I feel blessed that I’m yours. That you’re mine.” His heart took on a new rhythm and a streak of what he thought was happiness flared inside him. “I love you, Ryor,” she whispered. Ryor grinned. Really grinned. He swept her into his arms like a child and started carrying her back the way they’d come.

“Where are we going?” “To our room.” Evangeline laughed. “Uh ... you’re forgetting something.” She laughed again when he raised questioning brows. “Your father is expecting you.” Ryor stopped, groaned, kissed her again. “I’ll tell him I can’t come. We’ll talk by holoboard.” “Ryor....” She looked at him, in that way that told him though she would love to go home with him, he had to be practical and responsible. After a yielding sigh, he set her down. “But if you like, I can go home ahead of you and try on that little piece of fabric I got yesterday,” she said. “I meant to show you, but you were in a rush—” “I prefer you in nothing.” She nodded. “I know. But I think you’ll like it just the same.” “I’m sure I will. What I don’t like is the idea of Pent making such things for you,” Ryor said, suddenly serious. “He has my measurements and just makes the clothes. It’s not like I model them.” He smiled, kissed her again, and sighed again. He’d been doing a lot of that. “All right. I’ll meet you in my room.” She walked down the hall toward the exit, to the guards at their post. They would fall in step with her, and she would be safe. Safety was of primary importance right now. Something was going on, like a band being stretched tighter and tighter. It couldn’t hold long. Ryor went to his father’s office to find him writing in his ledgers. Keeping the books for many of his properties was something he had always preferred to do himself. Well, since discovering the greedy misdeeds of one bookkeeper many

years ago, and hanging him in the town square. His father didn’t want to have to do that again. “Father.” “Where are his men?” he asked, almost to himself. “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your ledgers?” Ryor asked. “You know, ruminating over potentially treasonous actions can inadvertently alter the numbers.” His father waved off the silliness and closed the ledgers. “I can do both without error.” True enough, Ryor agreed. “The nipak, of course, are watching, but so far nothing. We know, of course, they were in Seareham, but not why.” “And why so close to the alien portal?” “Indeed.” “And why travel in any way other than a direct path by foot or ship?” “Great questions,” Ryor said. “I want answers!” his father yelled. Ryor’s nerves rubbed against each other, heightening his own tension, sparking his anger. “We are in a tricky spot, Father. We are already at a place where Tralg knows we suspect him. He hasn’t yet let on that he knows, as we haven’t. He will move quickly.” “Unless he is waiting for something,” his father said, thoughtfully. “Such as?” “A workable portal.” His father turned to Ryor. “If this was about protecting us from Cri’ar, knowing they were working on their ... apparatus, he would have slain them as you did. Nothing gets by him.” True. Ryor rested his hands on the desk behind him and leaned back, crossing his

legs. “Do you know what you’re saying?” “He’s working with Cri’ar,” his father answered. “He wanted them to make progress on it, giving them the time and space to get the portal going, and staying close enough to keep them in line should he need to. I believe if you and your squad had gone another way, run into them, they would have tried to kill you. Can’t have witnesses.” Right. Unlike the Cri’ar custom of leaving one witness alive, Tralg believed they all needed to be destroyed. “He would have found us more than even his elite team could handle,” Ryor said confidently. His father nodded again. “In which case, he would see you coming, rush in and kill the Cri’ar. Pretend to have stumbled upon them. Once again, kill the witnesses. And it was no coincidence the scientists were taken so neatly.” Silence held the truth aloft in the air between them, long enough for their brains to turn it over and over, analyzing it from every side. “So Tralg is behind the kidnapping of the scientists,” Ryor said, realizing this only now. “Undoubtedly.” “And we need to get them back. Immediately.” “Yes. Tralg is hiding under a very thin cover. I know him better than most, but I don’t know what he’ll do here. Will he kill them to hide his miscalculations? Before he’s accomplished his primary goal?” His father’s voice had once again taken on that faraway tone, reasoning the situation aloud for his own benefit. “If he’s using Cri’ar to fight us ... why? He can’t form an alliance with them. They’re untamable. Monsters. They’ll agree to a short-term deal, provided they get something big out of it, but ... what?” Qeron turned. “And, he can’t have trained or turned enough Royal Guard or other Innovian armies to accomplish conquering.... Ah.... He wants it all. Everything.”

“Everything?” He watched his father pace the large room. Like himself, he thought better in motion. His father’s gaze darted here and there, casting down occasionally to see where he was walking. His lips moved slightly as he puzzled out the state of affairs set before them. “He undoubtedly promised them all the Earth water and people they can use. With their assured aid, he is going to use the portal to get into Earth, take over one of their military bases that he’s always boasted is ripe for the plucking, and then turn on them. With moveable portals, and Cri’ar’s help in obtaining Earth weapons, he would have no trouble conquering both Innovia and Cri’ar,” his father said. “We’d spoken about it before, he and I. A what-if situation.” His face grew weary. “How did I trust him all this time?” “He was trustworthy,” Ryor answered. “Was he?” “As far as we knew. Now we know differently.” Qeron clasped his hands behind his back. Ryor had been told his grandfather used to do that when deciding which method of torture to use on an enemy. His father did so now, considering his own failings.

CHAPTER 4

AROUND THE TABLE sat King Qeron, Ryor, Gard, Frey, Executive Fera, four high-ranking soldiers with medals pinned to their chests, and Hgrligh, Counsel Leader for Voren. He was short, about the size of an Earth, with hair the color of patinated copper. Because of the height of the chairs, he dismounted and stood in order to lean over the table and jab a finger into the wood when making his point. “We must take diplomatic measures before using force,” he insisted. “Their entire culture would have to be retrained before we even hope to get them to agree to a sit-down meeting,” one medaled man said. “Then that’s what we should do,” Hgrligh said. Everyone grumbled as hands waved. “Do you have any idea how long that could take, Counsel Leader?” Executive Fera asked. “Years.” “If ever,” Gard said. “What do we do in the meantime?” the medaled man asked, his face going red with exertion. Hgrligh’s jaw flapped uselessly a few times before forming words. “We watch them. We—” “Shall we send you?” Ryor asked. “Me?” “Yes. To watch over them? Tell me, Hgrligh, what is your experience with the Cri’ar?” Ryor asked.

Hgrligh cracked his knuckles, then dropped his hands to his sides and stood erect, lifting his head as he prepared to sway them. “I have studied them extensively over the years. Their language, customs. I was top of my class in—” “So, no practical experience,” Ryor cut in. “Well ... no—” “But you know that it’s their custom to eat their enemies....” Hgrligh tilted his head, as if flesh eating were a nonconsequential point that they could work around. “If we only speak to—” “There is no speaking to them,” another of the medaled men snapped. “They don’t come to discuss . The typical first sign of their presence is when they tear a chunk out of your flesh.” “That, or an explosion of some kind,” another said. Hgrligh shook his head. “I imagine these to be serious exaggerations.” One of the high-ranking soldiers shot to his feet so abruptly, he sent his chair careening into a wall. He limped around the table to where Hgrligh stood, and dropped his pants, revealing a space in his left thigh where flesh and muscle used to be. “Does this—” he said, pointing to his mangled limb—“look like an exaggeration?” Hgrligh turned his head. “I was knocked unconscious during battle, and when I came to, one of those monstrous cannibals was having my leg for lunch,” the man growled down into Hgrligh’s face. “Look at it!” Hgrligh shook the discomfort from his shoulders and moved out of the man’s range as he raised and fastened his pants. “But this time, they took hostages,” he said, as if totally unaffected by the unwarranted display. “If they have the restraint to not kill them, long enough to

accomplish their goals, then that proves we can reason with them to some extent. Negotiate.” “Delayed gratification does not make them reasonable,” Qeron said. “It only means they want something else more at the moment.” “As do we. We want to talk to them. Find a common ground so we can—” “We want no common ground and have no intention of giving them anything,” Qeron said. “Anything. Our pockets are empty to them, our tolerance nonexistent. They already know this and yet they are here.” “Isn’t that proof that they must want to communicate?” “They are invaders!” Qeron roared. “There is no outpost, no headquarters for them among us. You’re asking us to approach them on Innovian land, in an occupied country, to ask them what they want from us. We already know.” “You’re being unreasonable, King Qer—” “Silence!” Hgrligh’s mouth snapped shut. “We will not explain to cannibals why we don’t want them here,” Qeron said. “We will not devise a way to negotiate with invaders.” Frey jumped to Qeron’s shoulder and watched as several people opened their mouths at the same time and the squabbling went on for another minute until Hgrligh simply stopped. It was conceivable he finally realized the futility of his reckless imaginings, but Ryor hoped there wasn’t more to it. “Counsel Leader Hgrligh,” Ryor called over the receding din. He waited for the man’s full attention, and quiet, before going on. “It seems you are lacking some pertinent information. Information necessary for formulating an effective argument.” Hgrligh inclined his head slightly. “You are a man of understanding,” Ryor said. Frey sniggered. “I believe it would

serve you well to spend a week with the widows and orphans at the Prayer House.” “I don’t think that’s ne—” “That wasn’t a request. Wet your feet and come back and tell us what you learned. I’ll let them know you’re on your way there now.” With that, he gestured Hgrligh from the room before he could speak again. “Can we trust him?” Ryor asked once the door was closed behind him. “Monitor him. Either he’s working with Tralg, or he’s the stupidest man in Innovia,” Qeron said. One of the medaled men shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the chair. The other men followed. “He’s a politician, so....” He pulled a hunk of bread from a loaf on the table and popped it in his mouth. Qeron insisted food be available in the war room. War was hungry work. Ryor stood, rising to his full height, which presently was bigger than any man in the room, save his father. “I need to be clear.” He gave his father a nod, then looked to the remaining men ... and grud. “If word of this gets to Tralg, I will personally slit the informer from throat to groin.” He shot a look to Frey. “Or ... whatever you have there.” “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He, Frey, and Gard chuckled. His father did not. “Back to the business at hand,” Qeron snapped. “I fear I made a mistake with Tralg. I don’t know how far his traitorous behavior reaches or where it will lead, but I am responsible. I gave him unlimited knowledge of things that he should not have known and put him in charge over much without overseeing him. Now we might all pay the price. It is not a mistake I will repeat, so let me add to the prince’s promise. If any of you betray us, I will execute your entire family so far back as I may find them.” That was all that needed saying. With that, he opened the holomap and expanded

the Seareham Islands over half the table. He did the same with the limited map they had of Cri’ar. Ryor observed him. It wasn’t his father’s nature to it such a grave misjudgment in the company of generals. Ryor cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Since we don’t have Cri’ar on the inside working for us, we can only assume the portal links to a place where weapons are readily available. Most likely a military installation, or munitions stockpile.” Gard nodded. “They are plain thinkers. They will have the scientists there as well, close by.” “I hope those poor people are all right,” Executive Fera said, visibly trembling, the pattern in her skin changing color and direction before disappearing. “Executive Fera, you said your people witnessed the Cri’ar and portal for several days?” She nodded. “Could mean the scientists are there working on it,” a man said. “Or they are keeping it from working,” said another. “Seems they would have figured out the problem in a couple days.” “Yes,” Qeron said. “Stalling.” “In either case, they’ll need scientists at both ends of the portal which, if it’s chewing people up, means they’ll send at least one by ship. Along with the Cri’ar ships we already have, we will send a rescue team,” Ryor said. “I will bet Tralg has at least a few of his own men somewhere nearby, seeing things go as smoothly as they can, either near the portals or on Cri’ar itself.” “It’ll be a tight fit, to be sure,” Gard said. Yes. Cri’ar ships were small, holding only three beings. Two Voren men would probably fit. “Each time we’ve manned their ships, we disengaged their automatic settings, which would have returned to their point of origin, down to the landing pod.

There’s no reason to believe this time will be different. The ships seized in Seareham will most likely return to the very spot they were sent from,” a soldier said. “Where they’ll be waiting for you,” Qeron said, brushing a hand over his beard. “We’ll be ready for that.” “Or Tralg may have directed them to reset their programming, so you won’t find them,” Frey said. “I think you give Tralg too much credit,” Ryor stated. “He may try to deceive them, but they are not taking orders from him.” Qeron frowned. “You may be right. But he has to protect them. He needs them.” He rose and walked around the round table, thinking. Finally, he came to stand by Gard, and poked him in the shoulder. “You will take several of your finest men. Those you trust completely. Half will go in Cri’ar vessels to wherever they lead, half to a nearby coordinate. You’ll find the scientists and bring them home.” “Some are Soutten, correct?” Gard asked. “Yes. Three, I believe. Why?” “Figuring out how many ships we’ll need. Fortunately, Soutten are much smaller than Voren.” Qeron nodded. “Once there, how will you find the scientists?” asked Executive Fera. Gard smiled in disgust. “Cri’ar are just like smyrats. When invaded, they automatically swarm to protect what’s most valuable to them—food, weapons, in this case, the scientists. Their actions will tell us where everything is.” “Thank your God they’re so stupid,” Frey put in. “I have a question,” a soldier said. “If Tralg is now our enemy, why does he still live?”

“He doesn’t yet know he’s our enemy, only suspects,” Ryor said. “So far, we have no proof of treason.” “But—” Ryor shot the man a look. What to do with Tralg was a matter not to be discussed here. “How do we keep him out of this? Won’t he be aware of their movements and ours?” Frey asked. Ryor and Qeron looked at one another. “True,” Ryor said. “We must give him another assignment,” Qeron said, thinking again. “Not so distanced from the truth as to make him suspicious.” The company pondered this a moment until Frey spoke up. “There is a rumor that Cri’ar are planning to invade Earth,” Frey said. “They say the Borderlands are where they’ll meet, because no one goes there.” “Whose rumor is this?” Qeron asked. “Mine,” Frey answered with a hand to his chest. “I will tell him it goes out among scathers and those associated. The rumor will say that since you discovered their operation in Seareham, Cri’ar have moved to the Borderlands. Tralg will, of course, know this is a lie, but won’t be able to it it without giving away his part. He’ll think you believe the rumor and are sending troops. It makes sense and is just the thing an ignorant band of scathers would say. Yet because they are crafty and sly, it’s a rumor that can’t be dismissed without being checked into.” “Plus, he’ll have a handy alibi,” Ryor said. “Going about kingdom business.” Qeron raised his chin, his decision already made. “Gard, get that team together to leave in the morning. Let me know the instant you’re all ready to go. I’ll send Tralg to the Borderlands before you leave the planet. If you recover the scientists, bring them to Apirno. The Cri’ar will follow.”

“To Apirno?” Frey asked. “They are impulsive. They’ll be caught up in the chase before realizing where they are. It makes more sense than amassing troops elsewhere, where Tralg will get wind of it.” “He will get wind of it there,” Gard said. “He’ll want to know why he wasn’t informed.” “Yes, I expect he will, though logically, it makes the most sense. Apirno is a fortress before anything. What better place to confront our enemy?” Qeron sat back in his chair. “As far as he knows, we believed the rumor, that’s why he went to the Borderlands. From there, things played out. As long as the science team is back before anything can be done to prevent them, it won’t matter. And I owe him no explanations.” “We can’t keep pretending not to know. Ignoring his treachery,” Ryor said. “No. We can’t,” Qeron agreed. “Once we have the scientists, he will know we are onto him. We’ll go from there.” They took a collective breath. “I will go in Gard’s ship,” Ryor said finally. “You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Qeron said. “You’ll go to Apirno and wait. I won’t have the Prince of Voren die on an alien planet.” Everyone nodded their agreement. After going over more specifics—weapons, personnel, equipment, breathing apparatus—the meeting dispersed and Ryor called Torin, told him to expect Hgrligh, and to keep him amused with Cri’ar victims during his stay.

CHAPTER 5

AS RYOR SLEPT, snoring softly on his stomach, face smushed into the mattress, Evangeline tiptoed across the room, took Linda’s diary from its hiding place beneath the sofa cushion, and curled up with it under the lamp. The crinkling of paper would not awaken her husband. He was exhausted and had had a bowl of wine after dinner. She didn’t know what had gone on with his father, but he’d been with him a couple hours before he’d come in, made love, and then gone down to supper. As soon as they came back to the bedroom, he’d undressed and ed out. She couldn’t imagine the strain of being a prince, especially in this odd world where aliens wanted war. She shivered delicately, smiled over at her husband, and found her place in the book. I didn’t want to hope. I didn’t want to jinx it. It’s not the same as with Ryor, yet it is. I’m pregnant! I haven’t had a test or anything, I just know. I am so excited and having the hardest time keeping it to myself. I’ve told no one. What?! Qeron is going to be ridiculously happy and with that, he’ll start making me crazy, trying to protect me, making sure I eat right and all that. I’m going to miss riding Silly Tilly, but I won’t have to stop that til the end. Names, names, names. It’s all I can think of! We went full Voren with Ryor, but what if we named another boy something American, like Bradley, or Steven? And what if it’s a girl? I’ve always wanted a girl. I’d name her Evangeline. Well, we’ll see what happens. Tomorrow I go to the woods and see if Catrina is there. I hope douchebag doesn’t come with me. I haven’t been able to voice my feelings where he’s concerned. One day. Evangeline’s heart almost stopped. She was talking about her mother! And who was the douchebag? And her name! Maybe Evangeline had been her mother’s

homage to Linda. Tomorrow marks the anniversary of the day I met Qeron. Or as Cat calls it, my kidnapping. It’s almost funny to think about how I started my life here and how I feel now. It’s not as amusing to her. She fears for me and thinks I’m brainwashed. Ah, Catrina. Careful Cat. But we found each other two years ago and promised to meet again every year on the day of. I can’t wait to give her the gift I made for her. And to share my news! After all, she’s my best friend. And who will she tell? Have to run. Breakfast awaits and this is the first morning in weeks I feel like I can keep anything down. Hiding that fact from Qeron has not been easy! Evangeline sat back, astounded. Linda was pregnant! Possibly. And happy! But there had been no mention of the baby by Qeron or anyone else. “Oh, my God,” she murmured so as not to awaken Ryor. Linda had taken that secret, and the baby, to her grave. Well, if she really was pregnant. Women could be mistaken, right? Or maybe she’d had a miscarriage. Should she tell them? What would they think? It wouldn’t bring Linda back, in fact, would add much more sadness, at least to Qeron. So, then she couldn’t tell them of Linda’s other entries either, or that she really didn’t like someone she called douchebag. She turned the page to Linda’s last entry. I’m excited about my trip to the boundary today! The douchebag says he will get me over and back like last year. I wish I could go with Benja, like the first year, but he told Douche, and since he is in charge of the soldiers, what could I say? He claims there might be bandits in the area and I either go with him or not at all. He hasn’t told Qeron yet, though I’m sure he will at some point, but that’s a chance I’ll have to take. I’ll straighten it out with Qeron if I’m ever found out. While I hate Douche always being around, it’s not for long, and it will be good to see Earth again. Last time the air was cooler than I ed it. Moister. Anyway, maybe this year will be different, we’ll see. But it will be fantastic to see Cat, even briefly. I wrote her a letter in case she doesn’t show up.

Evangeline’s heart jumped at the mention of her mother, and she may have emitted a tiny squeak, because Ryor snorted, then continued snoring. Did her mom ever get the gift and letter and not mention it to her? That didn’t seem likely. She would have kept it, and it would have been among her things after she died. Read on, duh. She thinks me being a princess is stupid and doesn’t count since it’s not on Earth, but I think she’ll get a kick out of the crown I made her. Hopefully she’ll laugh, since it’s made of vines and flowers, like we used to make as kids, and since she thinks we’re all primitives here. She once again signed off with a big swirling smile face as she did after many entries. But Evangeline didn’t have time to consider that. Wow. Linda had gone back to Earth and met with her friend! Shaol had told her as much, but seeing it in Linda’s own words was powerful. Her mother knew of her being a princess, yet hadn’t said a word. Evangeline read the entry again, then shoved it back under the cushion, no less amazed than she had been a few minutes ago. Coming back to Earth. Just to keep in touch. There was no hint that Linda hadn’t planned on returning to Voren. In fact, everything in her entry, including, I’ll straighten it out with him, told Evangeline plainly that she had meant to come back. And Douche. Evangeline covered her mouth so her laughter wouldn’t wake Ryor. Linda had been a clever woman. Fun and funny, and picking nicknames the locals wouldn’t understand meant she could call one of them douchebag without repercussions. It had to be Tralg. He sure fit the bill. And he was in charge, right? Well, he was now, from what she gathered. Maybe not then. Again, her guilt-o-meter tipped into the red, causing her to wonder if she should tell any of this to Ryor. He didn’t seem to care for his mother very much, but it was still wrong to read her diary. A diary she’d obviously sneaked from the king’s palace. Alright, stolen. With premeditation. That wouldn’t win her any points. Anyway, what would it matter? A diary was just a bunch of private thoughts, and Linda was decades gone. Although, there was the baby.... No, she couldn’t tell Ryor or Qeron. But Evangeline felt like she had to tell someone or burst! It was too amusing, too close to home, to keep to herself. She could tell Shaol, of

course, but only Daniel would appreciate the connection to her mother and Earth. Using him as practice, she had learned to operate the holoboard, and the text feature, well. She texted him in his room somewhere in the castle and waited for him to reply. What’s up? I’ve been reading Linda’s diary. We have to talk! What!? Yup. I can’t believe it. She was going to see Mom and leave her a letter and a crown. A crown? Made of twigs and stuff. Come to the arena in an hour. I’m already there. I’ll wait for you. “Who’s that?” Ryor asked, suddenly at her side. Evangeline jumped and may have squealed a little. “Oh! You scared me,” she said, laying a hand flat to her chest. Ryor’s left brow rose. “I’m going to meet Daniel at the arena a little later on,” she said. He nodded. “Breakfast?” “Uh ... sure!” she answered, a little too brightly. He was looking at her with mild suspicion, as though he knew she’d been up to something, but wasn’t sure what. She shifted on the cushion, hoping the diary was completely concealed. She had to tell him. Eventually. After a few seconds, Ryor walked to the other side of the room. Evangeline followed, dressing in her yoga pants and tank top. What Ryor called her fight clothes.

“Are you coming to the arena?” she asked, fishing. She hoped not, so she could speak with Daniel. “Not this morning. There is much to do.” Leaving her bedroom, she saw Rissa at the bottom of the stairs, speaking with Gard. Evangeline paused, trying to hear what was being said, but Ryor came down the stairs after her, causing Rissa to look up, followed by Gard. Gard bowed and walked out. “I wonder what that was about,” Evangeline said. “Gard is leaving on a mission.” “A mission?” When Ryor didn’t answer, she took his big hand. “What kind of mission? Is it dangerous?” “It is, yes.” “Well ... why are you sending him?” Ryor’s brows rose, then drew together. “He’s a warrior.” Yes, true, but.... “Why him?” “Not just him.” He moved past her, and she hurried down after him. “Wait. Wait.” Ryor stopped at the bottom, eyebrows raised in anticipation of her question. “You’re not...?” “Not where he’s going. Elsewhere.” “What’s the mission?” she asked, grabbing his arm, her heartbeat suddenly pulsing in every part of her. “Is your part dangerous?” “I will not tell you the mission, Evangeline. And keep your voice down.” He looked around to make sure they were alone.

She did, too, then leaned in closer. “It’s a secret?” Restraining a laugh, he gently lifted her chin with a fingertip. “Yes, it’s a secret.” He touched that index finger to his lips, then gave her a wink and went on ahead of her. “But....” She caught up to him, keeping up with his long stride. “You’re not going to ... I mean ... you’ll be careful, right?” Ryor stopped, causing her to do the same, pivoting on the balls of her feet, looking up at him. The muscle in his jaw tightened momentarily, and Evangeline shook her head quickly. “I’m not saying don’t go. I mean, I would if I thought you wouldn’t. I’m just saying....” Ryor closed his eyes briefly. “I wanted a wife.,” he whispered. Insulted, Evangeline dropped her fists to her hips. “Yes, you did. And you went out of your way to get one. I—” “I was reminding myself,” Ryor said. “Only reminding myself.” That shut her up. “I am still unprepared for your ... concern.” Ah, well, that made sense. “Okay.” They walked to the dining room and she sat beside him rather than at the opposite end of the enormous table. They’d sat apart many times, but the closer she’d gotten to Ryor ... the closer she’d gotten to Ryor. She thanked the girl who served the food—her name was unpronounceable at this point—and bit into a taco, pronounced the same as on Earth, but here it was the Voren version of an apple turnover. “This is so good,” she said, eyes closing for a moment in appreciation. “How are Vorens not all a hundred pounds overweight?”

Ryor lifted a shoulder lightly and shoved a forkful of meat into his mouth. “I don’t want to fill up too much though. Training. Have to keep my fighting weight,” she joked, patting her stomach. Ryor didn’t seem to hear her at all, just kept eating. He was an odd man, but it made her smile, watching him shovel food in with single-minded purpose. Fuel. He didn’t appear to enjoy food the way some people did. It was all about fueling his body to prepare for the next task. She didn’t want to think about what that next task could be for him. Facing those cannibal aliens? Crossing the boundary into some kind of danger? God only knew what else he could be into. And if anything happened to him, she.... She shook her hair back and poked around on the plate. Nothing was going to happen. “I have to watch carbs. I guess it’s probably the same here as on Earth. Too many carbs and— “Evangeline.” She looked over at him. “Yes?” “You don’t have to be anxious.” Denial came readily to her lips, but it was true. She was anxious for him. That he knew her well enough to recognize it somehow put her at ease. A little. He leaned conspiratorially toward her. “Telling you about the mission will in no way make you feel better.” Her eyes widened. “Well, what’d you go and say that for?” “What?” “How’s that supposed to make me feel? You think telling me that is helping?” She sat back in her chair and bit down hard on her lower lip. She would not cry at the breakfast table.

Ryor set his fork down and looked at her. “I don’t know what you want.” “I want you to not g—” She looked around and lowered her voice. “Not go.” When he moved to speak, she laid a hand on his arm. “I know you can’t not go. I’m not an idiot. But I wish you could, and the fact that I do is bringing up some emotions.” This was pointless. All she was accomplishing was exposing herself for the foolish woman she was. Insecure, needy. Confirming prejudices Ryor already held of Earth women. He watched her, seemingly acutely aware of her inner conflict. “What is it?” he asked, finally. “I love you.” A tear dropped onto her cheek and skidded down. She brushed it away and when she looked at him, her lips trembled upward into half a curve. “That’s it. Sorry.” He watched her for a moment before replying. “Sorry? Why?” “Because I don’t want you to think I’m frail and needy, and I know you already think that, but that’s not it at all. I just don’t want to lose you.” Ryor gestured for her to come to him. She did, climbing into his lap, his arms already coming around her, drawing her in. “I think none of that, masevina.” She smiled at the sound of his pet name for her rolling over his tongue. “You are strong. Fierce,” he said. She giggled. “But your heart is too small for the love you have, so it flows all over. Overwhelms, that’s the word, yes?” She nodded, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. To her surprise, he pressed his lips to her head. “Your love means more to me than you can know. Please believe that mine is of equal strength. But my heart is bigger.”

CHAPTER 6

EVANGELINE AND DANIEL lay on their backs in the center of the arena, the tops of their heads touching, knees bent, staring up at the seamless light gray ceiling above them. They used to do this all the time, in the field behind the high school when they watched clouds drift by, imagining what spread beyond the blue. They’d come so far from those days. Literally worlds away, thanks to her, and for that she couldn’t be sorrier. If she hadn’t insisted on going to the lighthouse, even before that, just into the woods.... No, she would not drag her already tortured mind through that ground again, and risk dragging Daniel with her. What was done was done, and they each had to make their way from here. A fresh way. One they wouldn’t have had to make if not for her— Ugh. She had to stop. And she did. Reminding herself she wouldn’t have found Ryor if not for her stupidity. No matter what had happened, she couldn’t regret that. She sighed, feeling agitated as her frustration encomed her like a lead blanket. “What is it?” Daniel asked. He seemed restless today, too, but was trying not to let her see. Always mindful of her. “You know you can tell me.” Yes, she knew she could. But what was it? She’d been fine before learning Ryor was leaving on a mission. She wouldn’t have known about that either, if not for being here. He would go where he pleased, die if that was his fate, and not affect her. Well, actually, she’d been fine until reading Linda’s diary and having the connection between them renewed. She’d heard all her life that Linda was abducted, and Evangeline’s mother had forced her to live her life in careful observance of twilight, and the buddy system, and flashlights, and locked doors, only to ultimately end up in the same place as that abducted woman, anyway. It

just didn’t seem fair. Part of her wished she could forget the connection, though, she supposed, the bigger part needed to hold on to it. Not because it represented a tether to Earth, but because she now knew that while her mother had been lamenting “oh, poor Linda,” Linda had been leading a fulfilling life. Happy. “What would we be doing right now if we were...?” “Home?” Daniel asked. “Is that what’s bothering you? You miss home?” She wanted to correct him, tell him she was home, but this world had altered his life far more than hers, and she couldn’t bring herself to upset him by disputing it. “I miss Earth, sure. Not the way I used to, but sometimes I wonder what I’d be missing. You know?” “Well, you had no life, so not much.” They laughed. Then Daniel shifted behind her. “Near as I can figure it, Voren time seems the same as Earth time, so this time of the morning I’d be at work. It sucked, but it paid the rent. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here. Not much call for fence guys, probably.” He’d hated his job as a fence installer, so he must really be bored. “You don’t pay rent at least,” she said. She wondered what a house went for around here. Did they even have apartments? “No. Ryor, or whoever, gives me food and a place to live. For now. But they can’t expect me to go on this way. A man has to earn a living.” “They kind of owe you, though.” It was true. His current state was just as much their fault as hers, but that would not satisfy Daniel. “What about ing the army here?” The words were out before she could stop them. It made sense to her, but he would hate the idea. “Yeah, maybe.” His reaction shocked her. “Really?” She felt him shrug. “I have a skill set now, might as well use it.”

“You’re not afraid?” He paused before answering. “This will make me sound like a nut, I guess, but no. Death isn’t something I fear. Well, except for that Lizzbre thing.” Looking back now, she didn’t think it was something he’d ever feared for himself. For her.... That was another story. “And I’m a fast healer now. Like....” He shook his head. “Really fast. From serious injury. Maybe this all happened ... I don’t know.” He rolled over and looked down at her. “You’re making me wonder. I mean, I’ve wondered before, but when you asked if I thought we were supposed to be here on Innovia.... I think I’m starting to believe.... Maybe this all happened to me to make me a fighter. Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do with my life.” She sat up as well and faced him. “You might be wandering into the nut realm now,” she said with a laugh. “What, you don’t wonder if all this has some purpose?” He glanced down to the end of the arena and back along the wall. “I do. We know God always has a path for each of us, right?” “Right.” Yes, she certainly had wondered if it was God’s doing. “So, that path led right out of Earth to here. This must be it.” She couldn’t believe she was hearing him speak this way. “Still. A fighter?” “King David was a warrior,” he said. “Out of necessity.” “You think he just got up one morning and went to fight a mob of soldiers without having trained?” His harsh tone told her she’d insulted him. He truly needed a purpose to feel fulfilled, and it was true that the Bible was filled with warriors. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I never really thought about the role violence might take in His plan. You’re right.”

“Not violence,” Daniel said. “I’m not thinking of it as violence. It’s a practical function. Protection.” Ah, now that sounded more like the Daniel Evangeline was used to. The protector. He was quiet, looking around again, but his sudden ion was making her nervous and she wondered at its cause. “Is this about a faerie girl?” “No,” he answered too quickly. “It’s just that you sound ... I don’t know ... determined.” “And what if I am?” he asked. “Well, nothing makes a man determined as much as a woman.” She tried a small laugh, but it didn’t catch on. “Look, determination is great, but you only just had the idea a minute ago. Shouldn’t you give yourself time to mull it over?” He stared at her, then lifted his chin. “Maybe you’re right. No need to run off half-cocked.” He fell back to his reclined position, fingers linked on his flat abs. “Tell me about Linda’s journal. What about her and your mom? They saw each other?” She thumped her forehead. “Shoot! Shaol told me when you were ... away. I never told you! Mom and Linda had gotten together on the fourth of July, keeping in touch.” Excitement fired through her and she started talking, not sure if her mouth could keep up with her brain. “Well, you how Mom would go to the woods every year? Of course you do. Well, what Mom never told us was that she met Linda.” “No way.” “Yup. At least twice, from what I figure. If they met at other times, there must be other journals around somewhere.” “Wow. I don’t even know what to say.” “I know, right? I’m still trying to process it. It’s crazy! She wrote about how Mom thought her being a princess didn’t count because it wasn’t on Earth.” She

laughed. “Can you imagine that?” “They met?” Daniel’s voice rang with surprise and more than a little disappointment. “Then why did she go so nuts keeping you under her thumb, if she knew Linda was alive and doing okay?” Evangeline picked at her nails. “I think because Linda died a few years later.” “How do you know that?” “She died when Ryor was three. I don’t know if Mom would have known or if she just figured that, since Linda never showed up again.” Evangeline shrugged. “That’s unreal!” “Right?” “Are you going to tell your husband you found his mother’s journals?” “No. Well ... I don’t know. There are things he evidently never knew. Oh! Wait till you hear—” “On your feet!” Evangeline’s head snapped toward the doorway at the right side of the arena. Daniel slapped his hands over his eyes. “Tell me that’s not....” “Yup.” Deri stalked toward them, lugging a white bag full of who knew what, her practice sword on her hip. “The two of you, come on, let’s go!” “I already worked out this morning,” Daniel said, rising and helping Evangeline up. “You haven’t worked with me,” Deri said. “If you’re here and I’m here, believe me, we’ll be rubbing all over each other every chance we get.” She laughed, but Daniel didn’t. There was a good chance some of Deri’s moves on him could be considered sexual harassment. He thought it was because she

had the hots for him, though Evangeline thought Deri’s sexual tastes might branch off in every direction and more than likely she was just trying to sharpen him up. She reached into the bag and took out what looked like a lacrosse stick with sharp points around the edge. “Are we playing lacrosse now?” Daniel asked. “This is not for playing,” Deri said. “It’s a fireguard.” “Good, because I think I may be rusty.” She looked down her square nose at him and spun the stick round and round in a giant circle as they watched. “Big deal,” Daniel said. “I can do that with my lacrosse stick, too.” “Can your stick do this?” At once the pocket burst into flame and Daniel jumped back. “Whoa!” Evangeline’s eyes widened and she stepped closer. “How’d it do that?” “That’s what I’m going to teach you tiny folks,” she answered, then slapped the stick in the air and sent a fireball across the arena. “If this one will clamp his jaws shut for a time.” She grabbed another fireguard from the bag and pushed the handle end at Daniel. “Grip it.” He did, inspecting it as he turned it this way and that. “Ah. A button.” He pushed it and the pocket erupted with fire, startling him, and nearly setting his hair on fire. “Daniel!” Evangeline laughed. “I thought it was magic,” he said, disappointed. “I thought you were going to teach me to be a wizard.” Deri jabbed him in the stomach with the stick, doubling him over. The pocket collapsed against him. “No magic here, Blue. Just , I could set you

aflame if I had a mind to.” “What did you call me?” Daniel straightened and leered at her. “Where did you hear that?” Deri laughed, a choppy, masculine sound. “Did the faeries tell you to say that? Foddle?” “What’s a foddle?” Evangeline asked. “He told me no such thing,” Deri said, and pulled the stick away. “Heard it from Eldava, if you must know.” “Foddle’s a ... person?” “Faerie,” Deri said. “I don’t know if that qualifies.” Daniel growled and took his fighting stance, holding the stick horizontally in front of him. “Well, that’s a fine position if I do this,” Deri said, striking downward at him until he blocked her stick. “But what if, say ... I did ... this?” In a blur, she turned around as the stick came up, arched down to the left and came up again, knocking Daniel to his back with a wheezing grunt. Evangeline covered her mouth, more to shield her bent lips than her shock. “You. Next,” Deri said. Evangeline stopped smiling. “Me?” Deri handed Daniel’s stick to Evangeline. “You were paying attention, yes? How would you position yourself?” “I ... uh....” Deri swept the stick under Evangeline’s feet, sending her sprawling beside Daniel.

“Fun, huh?” Daniel snarled, jumping to his feet. Evangeline stood. “That wasn’t fair, I wasn’t—” “You have to always be ready.” Deri swept again. This time Evangeline leapt over the stick and hurriedly picked hers up, accidentally pushing the button and sending a stream of fire across the ground. It went out immediately. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Movement in front of her brought her to her butt, facing a broadly grinning Deri. “I wasn’t ready!” “Distractions are no excuse,” Deri said. “The world is full of distractions. The suns in your eyes, explosions, bodies falling at your feet. You must be ready at all times. For everything.” Her stick came around again and Evangeline blocked it, holding it down as she made a complete rotation, slipped her own stick underneath, and flipped Deri’s away, leaving an opening large enough for her to press the pocket to Deri’s chest. “Don’t touch the button!” Deri warned. Evangeline laughed and lowered the stick. “Good.” “Did you see that?” Evangeline asked a scowling Daniel. “Give me that.” He tugged the stick from her and took a position in front of Deri.

CHAPTER 7

RYOR WAS TOO ANGRY to speak with Evangeline right now. He’d gone to the arena to tell her he was leaving for Apirno in an hour, and had found her and Daniel just gone, and Deri gathering weapons and equipment. Turning to leave, Deri had stopped him to tell him she had overheard the princess talking about having found the queen’s journals and that she was not planning to tell him. He didn’t understand Deri’s motivation, if she was a Purist, who thought she could make his wife—an Earth—look sneaky or even devious, or if she honestly thought he should know of the discovery of the queen’s property. Either way, he didn’t like it. Though they often did, a servant should never know secrets about the royal family. Especially ones the family didn’t know! After making her tell him all she’d heard, he’d sworn her to secrecy and threatened to reassign her to the hottest base in the Hereafter desert should the news go further than the two of them. He didn’t know why Evangeline hadn’t told him, or why she didn’t plan to, but he would learn her reasons. He refused to believe she was being purposely deceitful to hurt him. Fear of him, no doubt. That was only slightly better. Ryor entered his father’s sanctuary and strode to his side as he sat near the window, reading. “We need to talk.” “Is there a problem?” “Not with the mission, no. Frey and Gard will leave as soon as I’m on my way to Apirno.” “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be leaving now?” “As I said, we need to talk. About my wife. And my mother.”

His father’s shoulders tensed and he closed the book with a snap before looking up at his son. He had the look of one found out, and the relief that often brought. “My wife loves me,” Ryor said. “Really loves me.” He smiled, but straightened his lips as he turned to face his father. “And you’re sour why?” “You told me she would. That you wanted me to have the love of an Earth woman.” “And?” “And, you couldn’t have received this kind of love without loving back.” “So, you love her back then. Good.” His father rose, slapped a hand to Ryor’s shoulder and went about moving things around on his bench, no doubt thinking he’d somehow escaped what was to come. Ryor smirked. “This isn’t about me.” “Isn’t it?” “Did my mother love you?” Qeron paused, but not enough that someone would notice. Unless they were watching. “Yes. But not at first.” When Ryor lifted his brows, his father chuckled. “I wasn’t tactful about my intentions toward her. I began our conversation by informing her she would be the mother of my children.” His father’s tone held some secret humor that Ryor wasn’t privy to, so he waited. “She struck me.” His father moved a knuckle over his lower lip. “She struck you?” “Hard. It was glorious,” his father said, his voice taking on a far-away quality that made Ryor wonder. And realize.

“You never spoke about her. I thought it was because you hated her.” “I gave you that impression?” “You did. Growing up, you forbade the mention of her name, or even reference to her. When I was old enough to ask you why I didn’t have a mother, you dismissed me.” He tilted his head. “One day I asked a maid, and all she would say was that my mother had died in a fall from an ormor. Much later, I learned she had been trying to leave Voren. I assumed your refusal to speak of her was embarrassment that she had tried to leave you.” His father looked horrified. “I never meant for you to hear any of that.” Ryor sat on the edge of his father’s bench and moved a stack of parchments idly around. “There was rumor that you murdered her to keep her from leaving you.” If his father looked horrified, Ryor must have even more so, watching him lift his half grey head and clench his teeth. There were tears in his eyes. Tears. In the ice grey eyes of King Qeron. “I would never have hurt your mother,” his father said. “I loved her beyond reason. I always will.” The words echoed throughout the room, seeking out the tiniest crevasses in which to inject the pronouncement, their vibration pulling a lifelong façade down around them. The facade Ryor had erected around his father, that of selfcontained, self-sufficient warrior, not needing anything as fleeting as emotion, or frivolous as a woman, crumbled to the earth with a heart-shattering crash, exposing the King of Voren as a love-sick fool. No, not a fool. He could never be a fool. Just a man like countless others who had fallen victim to the wiles of love. Ryor had known this inside, but had never heard the words. He stared at the floor, imagining that sad pile of rubble, and the façade he’d erected around himself alongside it. God help him, he’d fallen, too. He couldn’t bring himself to address that, so he moved to the actual subject of his visit. “Did you know they were friends?” he asked after several long seconds.

His father didn’t have to be told who. “Yes. We spoke about Catrina, but I didn’t know.... Much later, after your mother’s death, I discovered she kept a journal. It was in her suite. Reading it, I learned she had sneaked through the portal with the help of a guard—she was close with many of them—and had found Catrina nearby. They agreed to meet every year, and she did so at least one more time.” “You knew nothing of it at the time?” “Nothing,” he answered. “Until her death when Tralg told me he had been there with her.” He closed his eyes, reliving the pain, no doubt. Ryor turned his head away until his father recovered himself. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around what he heard. “How did she ... Catrina, just happen to be there?” “It must have been by accident. Or fate,” he added, sliding Ryor a sideways glance. His father took in a long, slow breath, letting it out just as slowly. “One fourth of July, some years later, after finding the journal, I was feeling particularly....” He shook his head and smirked. “No matter. I went through the portal to see if Catrina would come. She did, but she was not alone. She was with a little girl, who looked just like her.” “Evangeline.” Qeron nodded. “I watched them come and go, without them knowing I was there. She kept her distance. I went back every year, but the girl didn’t come again, only her mother. Every year. Until a few years ago. When I went then, Evangeline was there, grown, obviously. And Daniel. I thought he might be her husband, though their interplay didn’t seem romantic. So, I thought perhaps a brother.” Ryor could hardly believe his ears. “So you plotted from then on?” “I wouldn’t call it plotting.” Ryor’s eyebrow rose. “What then?” “Hopeful curiosity. Despite what you thought, your mother brought me much happiness. I believed—and still do—that if the woman, Catrina, was friends with her, she must be a woman worthy of Linda’s love and trust, and that therefore

she would raise her daughter to be so.” Ryor looked at the floor. “She is, yes?” his father asked. Ryor nodded, then shook his head quickly. “How did you know I would find Evangeline?” His father pursed his lips. “The day you announced your intention to marry an Earth, I sent Frey in to scout. I had only been to that part of Earth once a year, looking for Evangeline, and did not know of her whereabouts otherwise. For all I knew, she lived nearby and went there every day. So, I sent him every day from Earth’s June, until she finally arrived in July.” “You....” Ryor didn’t know what to say. His own father setting him up. “I can’t believe you did that to me. And that Frey— Wait....” “Frey told me you also had sent him to scout for a bride,” Qeron said. “I did not know you were doing the same!” “Fortuitous, that we were both looking for the same woman,” Qeron said, opening his hands. “When Frey sent word to me saying he’d found her, I told him to let you know right away.” Ryor growled, though he didn’t know why. He couldn’t help being pleased with his bride. “She’s a good height, very beautiful,” Qeron said. “Yes, yes, of course I’m pleased with her. I just feel....” What? Ill-used? Tricked? “Outwitted?” Qeron grinned, and Ryor’s growl returned. “Where is the journal?” “I keep it in my room.” “I think you’d better look into that,” Ryor said.

“She found it? How?” His brows drew together. “No one is to touch my personal things. How would she even get in there? When?” “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Ryor stood motionless, ing the day he took Evangeline. She was so frightened, but angrier even than that. He probably loved her right then. And her concern for her friend.... irable. She was good with people. He wondered how good he needed to be with them so as not to have to wait until after her death to learn of her having a journal. He wanted to know all about her while she lived, because she wanted to tell him. It seemed, at least from his father’s telling, that his mother had loved him very much, yet had thought it necessary to hide a journal. Earth women were odd. He’d grown up piecing together rumors about his mother, to form the basic story he’d lived with and still told himself: The queen missed Earth so much that one day she left, desperate to return, leaving behind her husband and infant son. He needed to read the journal for himself. “So, you came to tell me you love your wife,” Qeron said after another elongated silence. “I am glad I found her,” Ryor said. “Though because of her, I no longer thirst for blood as I used to.” “Often, bloodlust is simple boredom.” Ryor shook his head. “The taste for war has all but left me.” “Yet because of her, you will go to war. It’s a double-edged sword.” Ryor slapped his father across the back at the reminder. “I’m leaving.” “Success,” Qeron said. “We’ll talk when you come back.” Ryor gave him a stiff nod and left.

“I THINK RYOR IS MAD at me.” “Why?” “Because he didn’t say goodbye before he left.” “Does he usually say goodbye?” She shrugged. “He really doesn’t go anywhere. Except when he went to get you.” But ... no, he hadn’t said goodbye then. “Agh, don’t worry about it.” Daniel pushed her shoulder. “He’s probably just that way. These people are weird, Ev, and they’ve been weird a lot longer than we’ve been here. Might take a while to bring them around to things like manners.” Evangeline stared at him for a couple of seconds. “What is it?” he asked. “Tell me about your girl.” He ducked his head and lifted his right shoulder. “Nothing to tell. You know about as much as I do.” “You really like her, right?” He didn’t answer. There was no need. “Well, since you don’t know enough to make listening interesting, why don’t we go visit?” “What?” “Well, not alone, I mean when Ryor gets back.” She didn’t want to where he was, what kind of danger he might be in even now. “He said he’s going to introduce me to the faeries, anyway. You’ll come.” “Gettin’ kinda princessy there, aren’t you?” he asked.

Evangeline laughed. “Hmm. I guess so.” Her smile vanished then. Not missed by Daniel. “What is it?” “He must be so mad. To leave and not even say goodbye. What does that mean? And why would he be mad?” “I don’t know. Your mind went right there, so you tell me. Did the two of you fight before he—” She was already shaking her head. “No. Everything was fine.” Better than fine. She’d professed her love for him. Maybe that was it. maybe he’d felt cornered. That stupid law about husbands cheating.... Maybe he was feeling guilty when she’d told him she loved him and all the while he’s been waiting for time to . No, that didn’t even make sense. Still.... She had a feeling something was wrong between them. Daniel rolled his eyes. “I think you’re overthinking it, but if anything, it means if he’s upset at all, he has the common sense not to talk to you when he’s angry.” “Or he doesn’t care.” The sting of tears had her sniffling and lifting her head. She would not cry. “He cares,” Daniel said. He walked across the room, then back, watching his feet as they dragged along the floor. “I was wrong about him.” Evangeline sat on the sofa, pulled the journal out from under the other cushion, and patted it for Daniel to sit. “What about?” “He loves you.” He sounded disappointed and oddly, it made her laugh. “I wanted to hate him.” He sat. “But seeing him around you, it’s clear.”

“Thanks for saying that,” she said. “It helps. Especially when I know how mad he probably is.” “Don’t worry, he can’t stay mad at you. You’ll handle him.” Daniel pulled her head to him and gave it a sound kiss before releasing her. “I am surprised you didn’t tell him about the....” He gestured to the diary with his chin. “Why not? What do you think would have happened?” Evangeline threw her right hand toward the ceiling, then slapped it to her thigh. “I don’t know. I barely had time to make the connection and get used to the idea of his mother being my mom’s best friend.... And I’m pretty sure he hates his mother.... I guess I didn’t want him to feel anything hostile toward my mom, too.” “Evie, she’s gone,” Daniel said. She sighed and offered a crooked smile, edged with sadness. “I know. I know.” She sniffed. “I just don’t want to forget how amazing she was, even though she was pretty screwed up. And I don’t want my husband thinking bad things about her that are the furthest thing from true.” Daniel nodded. “I get it. She was like my mom, too.” Evangeline scooted over a cushion and wrapped her arms around him, holding on. Daniel cradled her with one hand, using the other to stroke her hair and back. “I miss her so much. Just so much,” she said. “I know.” “I just got married, and she wasn’t here. Even if she was alive, she couldn’t have been here. I didn’t think it mattered at the time, but now that I’m thinking of it, it’s.... I don’t know.” “Unfair?” She nodded under his chin. She had a nerve to talk about unfair. Daniel had been a casualty. Wrong place, wrong time. Still, she was glad she had him. Although his skin was now blue, and he was incredibly buff, and knew a hundred ways to kill, he was still her sweet, reliable Daniel. A fellow Earth to walk beside her in

this upside-down world. It was more than Linda Carmichael had had. She grabbed the front of his shirt and wrinkled it in her fists before pushing away from him and opening the book. “Here, read. But be careful, don’t crinkle the pages.” “I don’t crinkle pages. That’s you you’re thinking of. Look what you did to my shirt.” She made a face at him. Daniel read the journal, much faster than she had, not pausing to consider what Linda’s life had been like, what kinds of things she looked forward to or dreaded in her days, just his eyes moving along at a steady pace, turning pages, until he reached her last entry. “Douchebag?” Evangeline nodded. “Tralg. Has to be.” Daniel’s eyes widened. “Don’t forget, they wouldn’t have that word here,” she said. Then his eyes widened some more. “No way! A few days ago, I heard a soldier calling another one a slimeball.” Evangeline laughed. “Oh man, Linda must have brought those . Slimeball was one of Mom’s favorite insults.” A knock fell on the door and Evangeline called for Shaol to come in. She seemed surprised to find Daniel there, but gave him a courteous nod. Then, seeing the book in his hand, her face went pale. “We’re reading Linda’s journal,” Evangeline said. Catching the look of terror on her face, Evangeline reached over and patted her arm. “It’s okay, Shaol. Daniel won’t tell a soul.” “The prince knows!” Shaol said.

Evangeline’s heart plummeted to her lap, and she stood. “What?” Shaol nodded. “Deri told me she heard you two talking and told your husband.” Evangeline had never seen Shaol so upset, even when she’d been horseback riding. “Oh.... That’s why....” Yes, she’d had a feeling! Shaol’s eyes were round and alarmed as she continued to stare from Daniel to the book, and back. She was making Evangeline quite nervous. “Relax. That’s an order.” To her surprise, Shaol spread her legs wider, clasping her hand around her wrist behind her. “He’ll get over it,” Evangeline insisted. “I won’t tell him who showed me the books.” “Books? Plural?” Daniel asked. Evangeline shrugged and turned back to Shaol. “I didn’t know if I should tell him. It says.... There are things in there that might make him and his father ... upset. But I don’t know. He needs to know his mother didn’t just leave him like he thinks.” Daniel held the book up. “No one reading this would think she meant to walk away. And thinking she was—” He caught Evangeline’s sudden intake of breath. “No, she wouldn’t have left willingly.” “But, man, that Deri has a big mouth. Eavesdropping? Really?” Evangeline’s face felt hot with anger. “We won’t be training with her anymore.” “Definitely not,” Daniel agreed. “Hey, you have any food?”

CHAPTER 8

APIRNO WAS A FORTRESS before anything, and as Ryor wrapped his hand around the T-lok grip, he couldn’t help wondering how many men had stood here before him, in exactly this spot, shooting Cri’ar from the skies as he was about to do. Though not as frequent as it had been a hundred years ago, or as frequent as minor skirmishes for local power, full on war was nothing new to him. He’d fought in his first at fifteen, killing over twenty men—scathers—coming in from the Borderlands in their attempt to overtake what was now Formerly and establish a kingdom. Even at that young age, Ryor knew that could not be permitted. The only person on the planet who would call himself king was his father, and when his own time came, himself. Innovia had Executives, Chancellors, Presidents, but only one King. Qeron. The next war was with Cri’ar when Ryor was twenty-five. He had killed hundreds, destroying several ships, capturing a few which had led them to the strange planet to give them a taste of their own, slaughtering them on their inhospitable home world. Glorious. His people had hailed him a hero, but the truth was, Tralg had saved his life at least once. Had he still been loyal to Voren’s crown then? Or was it possible he would have let him die if Jakar and others hadn’t been there to witness? Surprise was the strongest weapon of this coming assault. Leading the Cri’ar to believe Voren soldiers had fled in terror, all the while driving them into the backdrop of carefully planned offensives designed to overpower and destroy. The Cri’ar didn’t have a chance, and hopefully war would be avoided for now. With the scientists hopefully returned home, there would be no need to take it further. Gard called in their positions, three ships about to pierce Innovia’s atmosphere. That wasn’t good news. They’d left with five. A man spotted them on the horizon a moment later and pointed them out to Ryor. They flew by single file, then dropped below the prison walls. The rest of the Cri’ar ships came in like a

flood, more than expected, with flashes of green and orange, their weapons slashing the sky like the alien blades they were, stabbing wildly, looking to sink their devastating stopping power into anything that moved. Ryor’s men held their positions, firing back, their T-loks, missiles, and boktars striking with much greater efficiency. One Cri’ar-piloted ship stopped high overhead, the underside door sliding open to fire down orange lights, balls of intense energy, causing Ryor to jump back or be fried. One of those orange lights hit the T-lok, causing substantial damage, smoking where it stood, and sending a fiery heat wave across the stone deck toward Ryor. He leapt quickly backward, pressing his back hard to the wall. The next shot would surely come directly at him. Connor landed beside him, shooting up at the ship’s hull, and inside, even as more orange flashes came down. Ryor pulled his sidearm and blasted into the ship opening until it raised higher. His weapon would not reach that far. He had to get to the far end of the deck, to the other T-lok which was now inactive. “Connor! Come with me!” They ran along the deck, dodging alien fire, until they reached the T-lok, aimed uselessly across the valley, a dead soldier at its base, his wounds making it impossible to tell who right now. Ryor swung the turret toward the ship, hitting it with the first round, sending it spinning in an awkward loop as it fell to the training field. “Bring me all survivors.” Connor ran toward it. Gard rushed into view from behind a wall and ed him. As Ryor and his men blasted more ships, persistently firing from the sky, Gard and Connor assailed the fallen ship. From this vantage point, Ryor noticed a ship, that, at the same moment, noticed his men running across the field. It headed across the shredder valley toward them, its firing mechanism underneath already glowing orange in preparation. Aiming, Ryor smiled and pulled the trigger. The ship jolted and fell into the brown/black muck that was the shredder valley. He knew he didn’t have to look to know the shredders would annihilate the Cri’ar as soon as they stepped out, but he enjoyed the idea too much to turn away.

The top hatch opened, and two sickly greenish creatures emerged. Ryor counted three seconds after their four-toed feet touched the ground before being dragged down into the black abyss with so much force that their weapons flew into the air, then dropped silently where they had stood. Ryor engaged in a short bark of a laugh and shifted to his next target, but the remaining ships were already fleeing up and away. His focus turned immediately to the dead soldier and went to double check.... Dead. For sure. The end of the name tag stitched into his uniform said HAO. Ophao. Promoted to Royal Guard less than a year ago. His family were bakers. Upright, loyal, and now tragically short one of their four sons, the rest of whom would now be sure to the ranks as soon as their age permitted. Connor and Gard approached; Connor’s arm wrapped around a Cri’ar’s skinny neck as it struggled to free itself. But Gard’s sword jabbing into its chest prevented it from trying too hard. Gard and Connor stared down at Ophao’s bloodied, lifeless body. Connor squeezed tighter. “Why are you here?” Ryor asked in Voren. No response. He knew not all Cri’ar spoke his language or any Innovia dialect, but the tone of his question was clear enough. And the Cri’ar’s response even clearer. The creature snarled, said something none of them understood, then spit a wad of yellow saliva onto Ophao’s body. Ryor wrapped his hand around Gard’s sword hand and shoved the blade in deep, causing the sickly black eyes to widen, before tugging it down. They stepped back, and Connor released the Cri’ar as its insides spilled out across the stones. Connor glanced down at his uniform, at the spot of Cri’ar blood on his stomach. Gard’s blade had gone completely through the body, making an inch tear through the fabric. “Pardon, my prince.” He took the jacket off and tossed it over Ophao. Ryor gave him a curt nod. “What happened with our other men and the scientists?”

The men looked at one another and back at him. “There were four scientists,” Gard said. Four? They’d taken eight. “But....” “But what?” Ryor asked Gard. “One died right before we....” Connor lifted his chin. “She had been tortured and was close to death when we arrived. She died before we got her in the ship.” That was very sad news indeed. “No sign of the other three?” “I was told they were killed,” Gard answered. “And.... Two ships were hit returning. We had three men on one, two on the other.” Ryor hung his head in respect, but only for a moment. As his men patrolled the compound searching for Cri’ar that may have repelled from ships to the ground, as they were wont to do, he followed Gard and Connor to where the scientists hid inside a tunnel near the back of the building. “This might interest you,” Gard said. “On Cri’ar, they were firing our own weapons at us.” “Picked up in a raid?” Gard shook his head. “I thought of that. These were T-loks. There’s no record of any T-loks being stolen or confiscated during battle, and they’re too stupid to reverse engineer a weapon like that. They have a supplier.” Right. And the only way to make weapons vanish was at production, before they were logged and ed. “Are any of Tralg’s men involved in production?” “One that I know of. Bruner.” “Bruner. He’s a weapons specialist, correct?”

“Correct. He can use everything better than any man I know.” “Better than you?” Ryor asked with a smirk. Gard stood still, staring ahead, and Ryor was uncertain whether he was being humble or truly believed there was a more talented soldier than himself. He had known Gard for years, had followed his training and competitions with great interest. He, himself, was better with a warbow, but he found it hard to believe there was a man alive better at everything than Gard. Ryor turned to the tunnel archway as Jakar came over, a crude bandage wrapped around his hand. “What happened to your hand?” “Burned. I was pulling Dr. Sorres to safety and was hit with a fireburst.” Ryor hated firebursts. Unlike bullets or missiles, which either hit their target or didn’t, once a fireburst landed, the fire spread rapidly from the wound, more often than not causing severe damage. Although, it often had the effect of sealing the wound. “I’ve showed it to Torin. He said not to worry about it,” Jakar said. If Ryor knew Jakar, for him to Torin meant the burn was significant, painful, and in danger of getting infected. But he wouldn’t sit quietly by if a fight was coming. “You’ll stay out of the fight.” Jakar opened his mouth, but Ryor’s raised eyebrows closed it. “Without question,” Jakar answered instead. Connor ducked into the tunnel and held out his arm. “You can come out,” he told the scientists, helping them out into the open air. The two male scientists looked confused and angry, but none the worse for their ordeal. One woman, too, was disheveled and grateful for her freedom, which she expressed in every other sentence, when the three of them simultaneously

erupted into retellings of their harrowing ordeals. Ryor had little patience for it, and turned his attention to the remaining female, who stood trembling from head to foot, staring at the ground. He placed a hand on her shoulder and she screamed, coming back to herself long enough to realize he was her prince. Touching royalty wasn’t permitted, and he wouldn’t allow it again, but she collapsed into his chest and wailed the heaving, wrenching sobs of a tattered soul. Torin was always on call for battle, treating and praying with combatants. He needed him now. Fortunately, he was at the Prayer House nearest Apirno. “Torin,” Ryor said to Connor. “Get him here now.” “Without question.” Ryor patted the woman as gently as he could, trying to lever her off himself and perhaps onto one of her compatriots, but she clung fiercely to him, leaving no option but to swing her up into his arms and carry her inside the building. Once inside the medical offices, he sat her on a padded table. “Stay right here,” he told her and moved away. “No!” she screeched, reaching out for him. “Don’t leave me! Please.” It struck him in that moment. An image of Evangeline. Terrified, begging for someone to hold her, pat her hand, just be with her. Would he leave her like this? Certainly not. Though he had when he’d abducted her and tossed her in the tower. He sat in a chair by the door and called to Gard on his device. “Bring Ophao inside,” Ryor ordered. “Already done, my prince.” “Is Torin on his way?” “Yes. He will be here shortly. And the rest of the Cri’ar still able to fly have fled.”

“Go meet him. Send Connor to the med lab.” When they’d disconnected, and the room filled with an immeasurable silence, Ryor found he had no alternative but to speak with the woman. He had no words of comion, but could offer assurance that she would be safe from this point on. “I’ll have your family notified of your return at once,” he began. To which she began sobbing again, shaking her head. “What’s your name?” he asked. She was crying so hard, he wasn’t sure she’d heard him, but he waited her out, handing her a tissue from a box behind him. Finally, she blew her nose, inhaled deeply, and stared at the floor once again. “I am Nomia.” “Where are you from, Nomia?” She was a pretty woman, probably twenty years older than himself. Her hair was light, graying at the roots. Her eyes were a pale blue, her speech flowing and almost musical, even through her turmoil. She was probably from the hills of the Broome Quarter. Faxail, Tybro, or Seron. “Faxail.” Before he could ask how to get in touch with her family, she shook her head and cried, not desperately this time, but somberly. It was somehow more heart wrenching. “I have no family left. My mother is dead, and they ... they murdered my father and my husband,” she said, quietly. “After they killed the others ... they decided they didn’t need my father anymore, and they....” Her mouth opened to a silent scream and her eyes widened in the relived horror. Ryor could imagine what she had witnessed and didn’t want her words planting anything else in his mind. He started to speak, trying to give her mind anything else to focus on, but she spoke over him. “My husband tried to save him, but they ... they just ... right there in front of me,

my father and husband....” “Nomia,” Ryor spoke sharply, the single word a punch to her horrible memory. “Look at me.” She did. But in her eyes were dark shadows of vile things, and he had all he could do to keep them on his. “You were working on the portal,” he redirected her. “Yes. Many.” “Many?” “Every day, all day, into the night. They only let us sleep for a couple hours at a time.” “How many portals?” She shook her head again. “Twelve? Twenty? I’m not sure.” Dragon spit. He’d thought four at the most. “But we didn’t get any of them working,” she said. “We could have, but we knew what would happen.” “You came close, though.” “Yes. We had to come close, so they didn’t think we were toying with them.” Her eyes lit with violent fire when she spoke of her team’s defiance. This was bravery. “Did you see anything or anyone that looked out of place? Tralg, perhaps?” he asked. The facade of bravery slipped for a moment. “No, not him. But others. Other soldiers. Voren. When your men came for us now, we weren’t sure if we could trust them. Seron said it was a cruel joke. Until they started shooting the other soldiers, and those monsters.”

That confirmed his supposition that some of Tralg’s men were on Cri’ar. The door opened, and Connor came in. “He shot several,” Nomia said, pointing to him. “Wait with her until Torin arrives,” Ryor ordered. He couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. Walking down a long hall, he found guards ushering shackled inmates from one part of the prison to another behind an iron gate. They’d been kept from the fighting and in security during the battle, less they should use the confusion to attempt an escape. As he drew closer, the guards gave him slight nods in deference to his crown. Everything seemed orderly, subdued. Then one inmate, skinny, with dark eyes, spotted him, muttered under his breath and spat on the floor. A guard gave him a shove, and Ryor walked up to the closed gate. “You.” The guard turned as the inmate looked at Ryor. “Why did you do that?” Ryor asked the prisoner. The man turned his back and started along the hall, no doubt hoping to avoid further questioning or punishment, but the guard grabbed him by the collar and spun him around. “The Prince of Voren is speaking to you,” the guard said. The inmate faced Ryor but kept his eyes lowered. “For what reason am I hated?” Ryor asked. Of course he knew many inmates hated him here, but this seemed to be based on more than having the authority to lock them away forever. “Answer your prince,” the guard demanded with a sharp tug. Ryor shook his head subtly. “Speak your mind,” he told the prisoner. “I have nothing to say.”

“You had something to say a moment ago.” “Will it take away or add time to my sentence?” the man asked. “I’m supposed to be released on work detail next year.” “It will not add time.” “So you’ll just have me killed quickly? Instead of the slow torture you’ve been —” He shook his head and turned his head, but the guard held him in place. “I’ve been what?” Ryor asked, eyes narrowed. “Look, my prince, I don’t want trouble.” His hands were locked at his waist, but he raised them upward as far as he could. “I don’t want to get involved.” “You’ll tell me what I want to know.” The man’s bravado evaporated in the current of Ryor’s command, and he swallowed, fingers stretching and flexing. “I’m not complaining, my prince. Just ... let me go about my business.” “You’re an inmate. You have no business.” The fear in the man’s eyes when he darted a glance at the guard behind him gave Ryor pause. Was he afraid of what the guard would do to him for disrespecting the prince? Ryor was picking up something else. He was probably overly suspicious given the circumstances around Tralg, and the heat of battle just now wearing off, but he had to find out. He told the guard to secure the others, then bring the inmate to him in the medical office. Ryor went back, greeted Torin, and showed him into the room where the woman was, then left with Connor to wait in the office next door. Seeing them waiting for him when the guard led him into the office, the inmate drew back, but Ryor pulled him inside and closed the door, leaving the guard in the hall. “Let me out.” The man tried to reach for the door handle, but Ryor pulled him back roughly and sat him in a chair. “I see you’re afraid. Not a good mark on your character. If you had character, anyway.”

Ryor ed him now. Listel ... something. Imprisoned for running over and killing an old man, while trying to escape in a wagon after the commission of a minor crime. It had been an accident in the court’s mind, but if he hadn’t committed the crime, the old man would still be alive. Not much room for comion there. Still, why was he here in this place? “Why are you here?” “You ordered me here,” Listel snapped. “No, I didn’t. Your crime doesn’t warrant Apirno.” “You’d have to ask Tralg.” His insolent demeanor was getting on Ryor’s nerves. “Tell me what and who you fear, or I will make what’s left of your life twenty times worse,” he said. The inmate’s petrified gaze flitted around the room, to Conner, the door, and back to Ryor several times. “You know.” “What do I know?” The inmate paused long enough to realize that Ryor had the power to do as he said. Finally, it seemed, he’d settled in his heart that if he was going to die, he’d tell the prince off, first. “Your torture methods are cruel.” “Cruel is the nature of torture, is it not?” Ryor asked. “But to what torture are you referring?” “The duels, the hangings, you know ... all of it. They’re your orders, so you know.” Ryor and Connor exchanged glances when Connor moved toward the inmate. “You’ve engaged in these things?” Ryor asked. “All of us. As you ordered, my prince.” Listel forged his last words with loathing and venom, and Connor’s muscles flexed in prohibited reprisal.

“I ordered no such things,” Ryor said. Listel showed no sign that he’d heard anything other than the expected denial. “Tralg told you this, yes?” Listel rolled his eyes. “Yes?” Ryor repeated. Connor nudged the inmate. “Yes. That you wanted us to do more than sit on our—” Listel stopped himself there and shook his head, disgusted. “We’re just slime, the dung of the earth, so what difference does it make?” “I didn’t order the fights,” Ryor said. “Tralg did that all on his own.” He would like to think that Listel’s expression of surprise meant he believed him. “What did he make you do? Be specific.” After a minute, Listel opened up and expounded on the same things Daniel had, although nowhere near as severe. He also explained his interactions with Daniel and being forced to witness him fighting others. A warning. Ryor’s blood heated, his hands flexed uselessly at his sides. “I know men like you have your own ... alliances. Spread the word those sessions are over. Also, you will be my connection in here.” Listel’s eyes widened. “You’ll speak to the men,” Ryor said. “Tell them not to become overconfident. The torture has stopped, but my wrath will be harder than anything Tralg has manifested so far.” “Please, my prince, don’t make me your—if they know I’m talking to you—you can’t—” “Yes, I can.”

“I’m not in an important pod,” he argued, fluttering his hands at his hips. “We’re a loosely banded set of—” “It’s done,” Ryor said. “But they hurt the crossbreeds the most. Pick one of them!” Ryor tilted his head. “Crossbreeds? Why?” “Why?” The inmate sounded stunned by the question. “Who would you hurt if you hated half-bloods?” He studied Ryor for a moment, then shook his head. “I didn’t think you’d be a Purist, with your genes. But you must know about Tralg.” Tralg was a Purist? He didn’t seem to have a fondness for anyone, even Voren, but an active hatred? Ryor didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it all these years, but suddenly the truth of it hit him like a blow to the chest. He pushed a breath out. “That’s a serious charge, inmate. What proof do you have?” “Can I prove hatred in a man’s heart?” Good question. It wasn’t as though Tralg had red and orange banners hanging from his office wall. Or did he? “Although ... I have heard of meetings. Once a week.” Listel raised an eyebrow. “Secret meetings in the dark. With Tralg present.” “Where?” Ryor asked. “I only heard they meet out across the fields, on the other side of the shredders parcel. Talk is they bring a sacrifice or two, as a treat for the shredders.” If they were bringing human sacrifices for the shredders, it made sense for them to be close to their parcel. Although it was just as likely, if they were meeting Cri’ar, that they brought along fresh meat for them as payment. “What day?” “I don’t know what day, they never said a day.”

“Who never said?” “Just a couple guys, a ways back.” Ryor leaned into the inmate’s face. “Who?” “It doesn’t matter. They died a few months ago,” Listel said, his mouth so dry now his tongue skidded across the roof. “One had a death sentence. The other....” He lifted a shoulder. “Just heard he died.” “Who else might know?” Listel shrugged. Ryor opened the door so the guard could collect Listel and ordered him to send a group of inmates and guards outside to clean up after the battle.

CHAPTER 9

THIS WHOLE SITUATION gave him a bad feeling. Tralg a Purist. The signs were there all along, but so were others, making clear the true intents of his dark heart. How had Ryor missed them before now? He sent Connor to find Frey and send him to him, then ed his father. King Qeron answered the call on the first alert, his usually unruffled demeanor looking slightly ... ruffled. “How did it go?” he asked. “As expected. We took the surviving scientists. Cri’ar gave chase, and we slaughtered them. But I have information. Do you know where Tralg is?” “Right here, actually.” The screen moved right, revealing Tralg sitting by his father’s desk. Ryor’s heart nearly stopped, but his quick mind seamlessly kept the conversation going, switching from what he’d been going to say to something else. “Fine. Let him know Apirno is no worse for the battle. No structural damage that I’m aware of yet, other than one turret. No loss of prison personnel.” “Very good,” Tralg answered. “What about our men?” Qeron asked. “Any casualties?” “Six that I know of. One here, posted at the turret. The others Gard has word of.” “I’ll find out and their families.” Ryor nodded. “Were the reports of raiders verified?” he asked, giving his father confirmation that he understood the situation. He now firmly believed Tralg to be a traitor, and he could become a threat at any moment. “No. There were no Cri’ar, or signs of them, anywhere in the area.” “Can’t be too careful,” Ryor said, knowing Tralg would hear. “If they’re

planning something. They could be anywhere.” “I’ve already assigned patrols to the area for the next few weeks.” “How are the scientists?” Tralg asked. “Glad to be alive, I’m sure.” “Traumatized, but yes, thankful to be home.” “When will you be back?” Qeron asked casually. “Five or six hours. It depends on how the questioning and clean up go. Then I’ll be transporting the science team.” “Very good.” “We must debrief them,” Tralg said. “I can be there—” Ryor shook his head. “They’re fine for now. Medical is having a look, then we’ll go from there.” “Very good,” Tralg replied, as though he didn’t have an ulterior motive at all. With that, they signed off. Ryor needed to get home to his father and his wife, but without knowing how many of the Apirno staff were in with Tralg, he couldn’t risk leaving yet. He called Daniel on the holowatch he’d made sure he wore for its tracking unit. Though Daniel might not be aware of that feature. “Are you with Evangeline?” “She’s at her lesson. Did you try calling her?” Daniel asked. “No. I need you to watch her. Tralg is there. He doesn’t yet know that we are onto him and I want to keep it that way. Should he find out, he may become very dangerous.” Ryor shook his head when Daniel opened his mouth. “It’s not him alone. We don’t know how many are under his influence, so whatever you do, don’t let him think anything is amiss. And keep my wife safe.” The look of steely determination in Daniel’s eyes gave Ryor a measure of assurance that she would be fine. But he needed to get there quickly. Frey appeared on his shoulder.

“I need you to get to my father immediately. Tralg is with him, but doesn’t know we suspect him,” Ryor said. “He mustn’t see you. Protect my father at all cost.” Frey nodded. “Without question.”

WHEN RYOR WAS READY to leave, with the science team and Torin securely fitted into the midst of the company and guarded overhead by several ships, a commotion inside a causeway at the side of the building drew Ryor’s attention. He couldn’t see through the tiny windows along the side, but made out the sounds of voices raised in anger and anxiety, and feet running. This was no time for a riot. He signaled his company to remain vigilant, alert, and sent Connor to learn the cause of the upheaval. Word came back quickly that Listel had been attacked and was clinging to life. Ryor grabbed Torin and ran with him and several others, weapons drawn. Inside the causeway, Listel lay alone in a pool of his blood, head wrenching from side to side, eyes closed. “Inmate.” The man groaned. Torin dropped to his knees at his side to examine the wounds. “Inmate,” Ryor repeated. Listel’s eyes opened, rolling around until focusing on Ryor. “What happened?” Ryor asked. “I ... don’t know. Knife, I think.” “Who did this to you?” “Guard. Not sure which ... one.” His breathing went from uneven to strenuous. If Torin couldn’t help him, he would quickly succumb to his injuries. Torin’s face was a grave shield as he took in the amount of blood continuing to pulse onto the floor with each beat of the inmate’s heart. “My life isn’t worth a ... a pint. I know what ... I am.” Listel pushed out between ragged breaths. “I’ve been bad since ... my ... first breath. But I am ... no traitor. I’m ... no....”

His eyes closed, his body slackening. Ryor looked to Torin, whose lower jaw grew long as he felt for a pulse. Backing away, Torin slowly shook his head. Ryor’s teeth clenched tight. A prison guard had murdered this man. He couldn’t be far. How had Tralg gained such a grip on them? Was greed and hatred enough to cause Voren to turn on their king? Yes. It was. He knew enough of history, and some history of Earth and Partar, to know that hatred and greed were always motivators for treason. Well, he would happily give his own last breath to keep that from happening. He could trust no one but the men who had been with him every day, and even some of those he would question. “Search this building,” Ryor ordered. He pointed out three men. “Start at the farthest end and work your way in. The rest of you, start from here. Kill if you must, but only if you must.” Not three minutes later, two Royal Guard dragged a bloodied guard forward and dropped him at Ryor’s feet. “Where was he?” “In a washroom, trying to clean up.” The left side of the guard’s shirt and pants were covered in bloody streaks. Stabbing was a messy business. “I’ll ask this once,” Ryor began, keeping his voice low so other prison staff would not overhear. “Are you working with Tralg?” The man didn’t respond. “Take him.” His men cuffed and gagged the guard in less than five seconds. Ryor looked down at Listel. “Put him with the others.” With guards and inmates looking on from narrow windows, Ryor and his men got everyone in order and left Apirno. Evangeline would be safe with Daniel, so

he headed to his father’s palace, to find him in his sanctuary, Frey sitting on the windowsill polishing his harbori. His appearance brought obvious relief to Qeron. Frey, too, looked visibly pleased. “Welcome,” Qeron said. “Father.” Ryor scanned the room. “Where is Tralg?” “I knew you were coming, so I let him go back to Apirno.” Ryor opened his holowatch and called Gard. “Bring them in one at a time. Place them in separate rooms. Tell no one.” He turned to his father. “I had the scientists brought here secretly, dressed as guardsmen and shielded. Now they’re being outfitted as civilians and placed in the general population.” “Why not the Prayer House?” Frey asked. “That’s the first place Tralg will look,” Ryor said, then turned to his father. “We need to speak to them soon. After they are fed and checked over. Not the one called Nomia. She will be no help. She has suffered much and is under Torin’s care.” “Very well.” Qeron said. “You haven’t seen Evangeline yet, I assume.” “Daniel is with her.” Ryor couldn’t wait to see her, but after dealing with the former hostages, he had reviewed her recent actions regarding his mother’s diary. Why had she read it and not told him? Knowing her reasons would determine if she was a woman he could trust. As far as he knew, his father didn’t yet know, and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. “I brought a guard back. He killed a prisoner for speaking with me.” “Must have been some conversation.” Ryor relayed the events. “So now that we have the guard, Tralg will certainly assume we are onto him. I would have just killed him there, but the result would be the same. This way we can at least attempt to get him to cooperate.” “Before we kill him, anyway.”

Ryor answered with a sharp nod.

“WILL YOU STOP LOOKING out that window?” “Well, where is he?” Evangeline asked. “He’ll be here,” Daniel said. “What if he’s mad? Did he sound mad when he called?” she asked, walking to the closet in her room. “No, he didn’t. He just sounded ... Ryor.” Ryor was back. But he hadn’t come to see her. She should expect that, though, right? After a battle, or whatever he’d gotten himself into, he would undoubtedly meet with his father. “He would meet with his dad first, right?” Daniel shrugged. “I guess. Debriefing. He is king.” She returned to the window, her spine straightening the instant she looked out toward the gate at the edge of the south lawn. Ryor stood with a soldier, both with their hair in its traditional warrior ponytail. The soldier said something to him, and after a back slap, they parted ways, the soldier toward the stables, Ryor toward the castle. And her. He looked up then and saw her. At least she assumed he did, since she was in the center of the pane. But the sun was reflecting off the glass this time of day, so maybe not. Daniel came to her side and looked out with her. “Your hero is back.” She smiled. Then frowned. “What if he’s mad? Does he look mad?” Daniel stared at Ryor another moment as he came nearer. “No more than usual.” She straightened the front of her multicolored dress, watching Ryor until he disappeared inside. “Uh ... you should go.” “No.”

She turned to look at him. “I was told to watch you.” She giggled. “It’s okay. Ryor’s back.” “He’s not here yet.” “That’s silly. He’s inside. Probably on his way up the staircase. You can go.” Daniel didn’t move. “So, like, what are you now, one of his employees?” She wasn’t trying to demean him, just figure out what was happening. “I thought you hated him?” “This isn’t about obeying him. It’s about keeping you safe.” Hmm. Maybe it had something to do with the way their physiology was changing. Ryor had told her they would gradually become Voren, and she knew Ryor was geared toward overreaction, as were many of the people here. It was possible Daniel was changing in a very real sense. Or was his protectiveness really a sign she was in danger? She reached out and patted his cheek. “You are so sweet.” He squeezed her hand gently and let their hands fall away. “Yes, I am.” The door opened and Ryor stood there staring at her, eyes blazing hot, like gray coals. Daniel gave him a nod and walked toward him to leave. Ryor turned his gaze to him. “I’d like you to pick up your training with Frey and Gard tomorrow. They are in the king’s palace. Don’t speak with anyone except them, Jakar, or Connor, and of course, the king. Not even Deri.” He looked to Evangeline. “You can’t trust Deri to keep her mouth shut.” Daniel shot Evangeline a look and walked out, leaving her to face her husband. He closed the door.

“Ryor, I know you’re—” He was in front of her in two steps, his arms around her, lips covering hers completely, a soft, heavy blanket absorbing her dread and dispensing heat. Her heart beat thickly, pulsing in rhythm with the caress of his hand up and down her back. When she moaned softly into his mouth, he yanked her roughly against him. Then he pulled back and looked down at her. “We’re going to talk. But first....” He tossed her over his shoulder, as was his new custom, and headed for the shower. For now, at least, she could set aside worries of his anger over his mother’s diary.

CHAPTER 10

RYOR SPLAYED HIS HAND on Evangeline’s flat stomach as she smiled up at him. He hated to ruin her contentment and to displace the beauty of her curved, full lips, but he had questions and wasn’t one to put them off. He had thought about Deri’s motivation for telling him of Evangeline reading the journal and had concluded she was trying to be helpful. If she was a Purist, she certainly wouldn’t be helping to train his wife and Daniel, but she was, and they were getting better. It seemed she just had a big mouth, and a mildly distorted version of loyalty to her prince, something he might have known if he’d taken time to get to know her sooner. But whatever her reasonings, he knew now, which left him contemplating Evangeline’s motivations. Though contemplation was not as effective as direct questioning. “Deri told me you found my mother’s journal.” Her smile vanished. “How did you get it from my father’s suite?” Evangeline licked her lips and swallowed. “It wasn’t in his suite. It was in his library.” “The library?” She nodded. “I’m sorry I stole it.” “You ... you have it?” Her quick nod pushed him up to his elbow. “I was going to tell you,” she said, looking at him, then away. “I think.”

His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?” She sat up, pulling the sheet up over her breasts. “I.... What I read.... I don’t know how you’ll....” She paused and clamped a hand over his forearm. “I didn’t want it to upset you.” “Why would it?” “Well ... not just you.” Ryor tilted his head. She was guarded, but not because of his anger. “What are you afraid of?” She stared at him for a long moment, then dropped the sheet and got up, naked, to walk to the couch, pausing again before pulling a book from beneath the cushion. Walking back slowly, she pressed the book to her chest, then reluctantly handed it to him. Ryor took the book but didn’t open it. Instead, he rested his palm on it as he sat up. “You know this is private property. Yet you took it. Why?” “I found another one, and after reading that—” “Another one?” She shook her head. “I know I shouldn’t have read it, but it—” “Where did you find it?” “In my room. Her room ... when you guys kept me at your dad’s, before we got married.” He looked at the book. Just a plain, soft cover in light blue that she could have gotten in any shop on her travels. “So you took it.” Evangeline hung her head and his heart tugged. He should be furious with her, but standing there naked, an expression of genuine contrition on her lovely face, his thoughts ran to kissing. “Come,” he ordered.

She sat on the edge of the bed, once again pulling the sheet up. He wouldn’t make an issue of that now. “Tell me how you came about the other one, and then this,” he said, lifting the book. “I just ... found it. There wasn’t much else to do in her room except explore, and I found it inside another cover right on the shelf.” She darted to the closet and came back with the other one and handed it to him. “I’d start with this one.” “And what of this?” He opened the cover of the one he held, saw the neat, flowing hand writing, and closed it again. “There are thousands of books in the palace library. How did you happen upon it?” All expression fell from her face. Yes, she was about to lie. The idea made him hold back a smile. She was an awful liar. “I was ... actually looking for her Bible. Shaol told me your father had given her one.” “Shaol showed you where it was?” “No!” she answered, far too forcefully. “She just pointed me in the general direction. Of the Bible.” So Shaol was involved. That made sense. Although she was a little younger than his mother, they had been very close. “And this was inside another cover as well?” Evangeline nodded, staring down at the bed. “I left the cover so there wouldn’t be ... a gap.” “Why did you keep it from me?” “I know how you feel about your mother.” “And you didn’t want to confirm my feelings?” Though since learning of his

father’s love for her, he wasn’t sure what to feel. Part of him wanted to soften toward her. Another part urged him to hate her more. “That’s not it,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I didn’t want you to be hurt when you read it and learned....” “What?” “How much she loved you, Ryor. You and your father both. And.... And I didn’t want him hurt either.” Ryor turned the book over in his hand. “If, as you say, she loved him, why would he be hurt?” “Because he lost her, and because....” Evangeline turned her face away, then swallowed and took in a long steady breath before facing him again. “She was pregnant when she died.” He felt the blood drain from his face, clogging in his heart when it paused to accept this new information. This unexpected, change everything, information. Evangeline licked her lips and continued. “She hadn’t confirmed it yet, but she knew.” Was it true? His mother would have had another child? He would have had a sibling. He opened the first book and began reading. Fortunately, he’d been well educated, not just in the speaking of Earth English, but the reading and writing of it as well. Another thing from his mother. She’d insisted schools teach the language. He’d dismissed it as ego on her part, but now considered she had a desire to communicate with more of her people. He read of his mother’s abduction—similar in many respects to Evangeline’s— of her contempt for her captor, and her determination not to die in this alien hell hole. For the first time, he had a deeper understanding of the fears he’d inflicted on his bride, now sitting by his side. Linda’s softening toward her unwanted husband was gradual, and due in part to his persistent cultivation of the relationship, and hers to make the best of a miserable situation. Her love had formed naturally. Deeply.

As he continued reading, Evangeline got dressed and left the room for several minutes. He was glad to be alone as he absorbed not only the words on the pages, but their meaning. His mother’s words. Thoughts she’d had in the privacy of her mind, written on paper and hidden where only she would see. They were true. Here, too, were written the words he’d been told she said from time to time. Home is where the heart is. Words used to accuse her of justifying the attempt to escape to her home world. After her death, a few had reminded his father of those words. Tried to convince him she had meant her heart and home were still on Earth. Reading here, however, it was clear she’d made a life on Innovia, and that both the land and the man who loved her so much, owned her heart. Home is where the heart is. My heart is with Qeron. My home is Voren. Ryor reclined with his left arm under the pillow behind his head, propped against the headboard. One thing bothered him. Not that his mother may have been with child. Not even that his wife hadn’t shared this information with him before he’d confronted her. It was Tralg. As a child, when he’d asked why his father sometimes referred to Tralg as Douchebag, and what that was, he’d been told it was a nickname given by Linda. Apparently, a nickname was another thing to call someone when you were joking or close to them. Here, they called them tags. Several people here still had tags given to them by Linda. Dork, Meathead.... There were others. And ... now that he thought of it, the ones with such names were not particularly pleasant people. He chuckled. Insults. Of course. He felt closer to his mother in that moment. “You’re okay?” He blinked and looked over to Evangeline standing by the door. She came and sat on the bed. “You’re smiling,” she said. “I was thinking.” Neither spoke for almost half a minute.

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “I know I should have told you, but I just ... couldn’t. I didn’t know how—” “I understand your hesitation,” Ryor interrupted. She nodded eagerly. “But I am your husband. I am also your prince.” The words came out stern. Good. He’d meant them to. She didn’t flinch or scowl, or, thankfully, roll her eyes. She kept them steady on his. “I’m just glad you know it was hard for me,” she said. “I mean, I was blown away when I realized your mother was my mother’s best friend!” “Blown away?” “Taken aback. Stunned.” “You didn’t know all along?” She shook her head deliberately. “I had no idea!” He believed her. It seemed his father had conspired against her as well. “I want you to know I had planned to tell you about the first diary. But after reading that one....” She gestured to it with a tip of her chin. “After finding out about the baby.... I was praying about it. I may have told you still.” She lowered her head. “But I would probably have asked you not to tell your dad. He loves her, you know.” “I know.” She looked back at him. “And how do you feel?” “I don’t know yet.” His mind wandered, imagining his mother in a different light. Loving his father. Sitting down with him, taking his hand, and telling him about the new baby. The child Qeron would never have. The sibling Ryor would never know.

“I find myself ... blown away.” He shook his head. It was not like him to confess to such vulnerability. Evangeline gave him a half smile and moved to lie beside him. His arm came around her. “What’s a douchebag?” Evangeline laughed, then snorted. “Oh, man. Your mom was something.” He smiled down at her. “So, it is an insult.” She nodded. “I’m assuming she meant Tralg, right? Was he in charge back then?” “Yes. He and my father were boys together. The day my father became king, he elevated Tralg to Chief of Forces.” “She really didn’t like him.” Based on his mother’s own words, Ryor had to agree, which pushed his heart another notch closer to her. He stared at the ceiling while Evangeline curled at his side, her butt pressed to his thigh, and considered telling his father. A baby. Another heir. For as happy as his father would have been, he would be that much more devastated at its loss. And being forced to face the death yet again. Ryor didn’t know the specifics, only what was told him by his father, and the rumors circulated, that Tralg had tried to stop his mother from fleeing to Earth and that the ormor, unused to being ridden in such a manner, reared, knocking her to the ground, trampling her. Of course, all of that rooted in Tralg’s testimony. “My mother would not have left my father.” He knew that now. Evangeline flipped to her back and looked up at him. “No, she wouldn’t have.” “He never believed it.” She rose to her elbows. “Was there an investigation?”

“Given the obvious, not much of one.” “The obvious being...?” “Tralg’s word.” They stared at one another until Ryor got out of bed to dress. “Where are we going?” “We?” he asked. She raised an eyebrow. “To investigate.” “Oooo! Where?” She grinned. To kiss her now would only prolong their departure, so he turned away and dressed in lounge pants and a tight shirt. “The palace,” he told her. “To the nipak.” “Well ... wouldn’t they have been asked at the time?” “They were, briefly,” Ryor said. “They were apparently in the midst of a virus that struck the population. My father was inconsolable and took to his bed for weeks. Guess who did the questioning?” “Tralg.” Ryor’s gut twisted. With this bit of recent information from his mother’s journals, a new picture was forming. And he did not like the look of it.

CHAPTER 11

EVANGELINE WALKED with Ryor the short way to King Qeron’s palace. Though full night was upon them, they left their security detail behind and so entered the gates without all the stomping, clatter and clanging, though she knew they were being watched from the shadows. The Royal Guard was never off duty. After telling the king’s gate guards not to disturb him, they walked straight to the nipak keep, ignoring those who ed. Inside the odd room, Ryor closed the door and motioned for Walfar, who reclined on a raised mat under the large open wall to the outside. “He sleeps here?” Evangeline asked. Ryor shrugged. “My prince. My princess,” Walfar addressed them, bowing to each. “How may I help you?” “You sleep here?” she couldn’t help asking. Walfar looked over at the mat. “When one of the nipak is in distress, yes.” “Oh, I hope it’s nothing serious.” “A hard birth,” Walfar told her. “It’s over now. Guess I fell asleep.” “Birth? Don’t they just lay eggs?” He shook his head. “No. They—” “Can the two of you discuss this another time?” They both blinked at Ryor, Walfar bowing low. “Apologies.”

“Do you have nipak from around the time of my birth?” Ryor asked. “Specifically, when the queen died?” “A few,” Walfar answered. “Unfortunately, most were lost to the virus and the ones I have, have no mate.” “What was the virus?” Evangeline asked. “We don’t know for sure. It was fast moving and never identified.” “What? How shady is that?” she asked. “Can the surviving birds give me information from that time?” Ryor asked. Walfar wrapped a palm around the back of his neck. “That’s a good question. It’s said they don’t forget, but I’ve personally never tried to recover images from that far back.” He paused, his face paling. “Not that you’re old, my prince. I’m older than you, by at least twenty years.” Ryor nodded, the rigid line of his lips telling Evangeline that he was already nearing the end of his tenuous patience. “Can you try?” she asked Walfar. “It’s very important.” Walfar rewarded her with a quick smile, revealing gaps where two of his bottom teeth should have been. “If the birds will link with another, it’s possible,” he said. “Let me settle this girl and her chick first.” He went back toward the mat, picking up the cage standing nearby. Inside, a yellow and orange nipak scurried around a brownish pile of feathers. Evangeline couldn’t get a good look to see if the newborn was cute or not, before Walfar carried the cage to a space on a ledge and covered it with a small green blanket. Then he held up a finger and walked from the room. “You are rather....” Ryor began. “Pushy?” she asked, giggling. He smirked, then looked away as Walfar came back in with two large cages.

“These are from the time you’re asking about,” Walfar said. “The male, Petran,” he said, raising one cage, then the other. “This is Majora. They were both alive at the time of the ... event, though not mates.” “How did they escape the virus?” Evangeline asked, unaware she was making eye with Petran until he squawked at her, flapping his wings and bobbing up and down. “Sorry.” The bird quieted at her apology, then to all their surprise, moved to the cage door and slapped its wing against it. An explicit order to open up. Walfar’s eyes went wide. “He’s.... Hmm. That’s unusual.” “He wants out,” Evangeline said, fearing it was to attack her. “Let him out,” Ryor said. “What will he do?” she asked, looking at both men and then the bird, taking a small step backward into Ryor. Ryor looked at Walfar, who shrugged. “Let him out,” he repeated. The moment the iron door slid open, the nipak launched onto Evangeline’s shoulder. “Agh!” she closed her eyes and turned her head. “It seems you fascinate even nipak,” Ryor noted. “I—I don’t ... know why,” she answered, cracking her eyes open just enough to see him looking at her, questioning. “What does it want?” Walfar reached for the bird, but it hissed and bumped against Evangeline’s neck. “What does it want?” she asked again, nerves tightening her vocal chords, making her voice much higher. “He seems agitated,” Walfar said. “Ya think?”

“Yes,” he replied, ignorant of her sarcasm. “Perhaps because of your question.” “What question?” She hadn’t asked it a question. “The one about the virus.” “That wasn’t for him,” she said. “It was just a general question.” “He seems frustrated. He wants to answer, but can’t,” Walfar said. “As far as I know, he has been unmated all these years.” “Aww, how sad,” Evangeline said, peeking at it with the side of her eye. The bird ruffled its feathers, making her look away. “Ask again, Evangeline.” She glanced at Ryor, who stared back, determined. “Uh ... how did you escape the virus?” Once more, the bird got upset. “This will not help without a mate to deliver the response,” Walfar said. “There are no records to look back on, so—” “No records?” Ryor asked. “No.” “A virus decimates at least half of the nipak population, it was never identified, and there are no records?” Walfar shook his head and stepped back. “I assure you, it wasn’t my fault. That was before I worked here. My predecessor might have had records somewhere, but there are none here.” “Where is your predecessor now?” Ryor demanded. “Dead, my prince. He died in a hunting accident not long after the outbreak.” “And you know this how?”

“He was my uncle,” Walfar answered with some dread. This wasn’t looking good. No records meant secrets. One look at Ryor’s face told Evangeline he was thinking the same thing. “Since his mate is dead, I thought we’d try linking him with Majora. She is also from the elder sect, so they are familiar with one another, though not all birds are compatible.” “Like getting a kidney,” Evangeline commented under her breath. The men looked at her. “Never mind.” Walfar opened the cage and Majora poked her head out. Petran went to the cage door and bumped his head against hers a few times, but she pulled it back in. Evangeline lifted her hands, palms up. “Got anyone else?” “They sometimes need coaxing,” Walfar said. He reached into the cage for Majora, but she pressed her soft, feathered body against the back wall. Next, he put Petran into the cage, but they stayed separate. Ryor dropped a hand onto Evangeline’s shoulder. “You coax,” he told Walfar. “We’ll come back. Don’t tell anyone we were here, including the king.” Walfar swallowed and nodded fervently. “Something doesn’t seem right,” she told Ryor when they were once again in the corridor. “It does not,” he agreed. They walked several more steps before he spoke again. “Earths are a suspicious people?” Hmm. Would she say that? “Inquisitive.” She lifted her shoulder. “Maybe you’d call it suspicious. I mean, there an awful lot of crime shows on TV. An inordinate number of them, really.” “That’s good. Being alert to devious activity sharpens the senses. A heightened awareness helps keep you safe.”

A fact he could have meant for people in general, but his focused gaze told her he referred to her specifically. “It will be helpful when you meet the faeries.” Evangeline grinned. “You mean it? You’re going to let me meet them?” “Naturally. They are part of your kingdom, though not formally.” “Like Puerto Rico,” she joked. He didn’t get it, so she waved the words away. “When do we go?” “In an hour. I’d like to give Walfar a little time, to work with the birds. If they can’t tell us anything by then, we’ll try again when we come back.” “An hour isn’t a lot of time for them to form a ... bond.” He looked down at her but said nothing. “Oh! Is Daniel coming?” she asked. “Why would Daniel come?” “So he can see his girl. Lizzy.” “Lizzbre.” She rolled her eyes. “Lizzy is easier.” “Is it?” Evangeline laughed and slapped Ryor playfully on the arm. “Go ahead, call him. I don’t have one of those....” She pointed to the holowatch on his arm, a slim band with barely noticeable buttons. Ryor slipped it off his arm and onto hers, tightening it to fit. “You don’t have to do that.” “I’ll get another,” he said, making it snug but not too tight.

“I don’t know how to use it, anyway.” “Here, I’ll show you.” He turned it on and called Gard, ordering him to gather the unit and meet at his castle in an hour. “Now you call Daniel. This one,” he said, pointing out a button. She pushed it. “Hello,” Daniel answered. “Daniel!” “Evie? What’s up? You okay?” “Great. We’re going to see the faeries,” she said. “Ryor wants to introduce me around. Pack and be ready to go in an hour.” There was fumbling and a couple of intermittent mumbles that might have been cussing, but she couldn’t be sure. “For how long?” Daniel asked. She looked at Ryor. “A few days, maybe. We’re taking the ships,” he said. “Okay, well, stop holding me up and let me get ready,” Daniel said. He hung up, and she took Ryor’s hand. “So, you really just want to show me off?” “Yes. I also have word that Caprion has returned.” “Caprion.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh! And you want to speak with him about Daniel and Lizzy?” Ryor’s eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“Well, you know Lizzy and Caprion are engaged, right?” He tilted his head. “I don’t know what you think I can do, Evangeline. Daniel and Lizzbre’s lives are their own.” “Oh. I thought....” She shook her head. “Never mind.” “The faeries are not under our subjugation. Caprion even less so.” “No, I understand,” she said. And she did. It just seemed too bad that Daniel might not have a chance with a girl that he cared for. But no matter what Ryor said, he was giving Daniel the chance to make his move. That was.... Evangeline stood on tiptoe and kissed Ryor on the lower jaw. She giggled when he stared at her. “You’re sweet, that’s all.” “I don’t know that anyone has called me sweet before,” he said. “Probably not. But you are,” she added, when he scowled. “You’re an unusual woman, Evangeline.” The corners of her lips pulled back. “Thanks! Now I have to get ready. I want to impress the faeries.”

CHAPTER 12

BEFORE BOARDING the ships for the Faerie Wood, Ryor had ed Walfar to check the status of the nipak . So far nothing, but he promised to keep them informed. Evangeline knew what Ryor was thinking. The same as her. That Tralg had murdered Linda and the baby. How could that kind of information go immediately unchallenged? She slanted a look at her husband. A man among men—even Voren men—in some ways. Even with comparable physical attributes, he had a quality she didn’t see in the others. Ruthlessness, when he employed it. It was a useful trait in a good ruler, she supposed, though fortunately she hadn’t seen evidence of it in her marriage. At least not against her. She ed the romance novels her friends ed along to her in her early teens. The men were always powerful, always handsome and smart. Just like Ryor. None of them, however, kidnapped women and worked their way into the heroine’s heart despite it. Maybe it was all part of her changing physiology, causing her to accept things a normal Earthling wouldn’t. No. She found kidnapping and forced marriage repulsive as ever. Only not where Ryor was concerned. She’d learned so much about him in their time together. Some could often construe his ways as barbaric and untamed, yet he did nothing without thought, or to be mean. He gave careful consideration to the repercussions of his actions, not only for himself, but for those of his kingdom. He was gruff and serious most of the time, but her presence—and she liked to believe her influence—was changing him. Well, changing might be the wrong word. Refining, maybe. Smoothing the rough edges. Though she had to it, she didn’t want him too smooth. He was a good man the way he was. “What?” he asked. “What, what?”

“You’re smiling at me.” Daniel, seated behind them on the ship, grunted. “You have something to say, Earth?” Ryor asked, irritated. “I just don’t have wonderful memories associated with these flying contraptions.” “You are safe.” Another grumble, and Evangeline poked him in the chest. “Do you want Lizzy to find out you’re a baby?” Daniel smirked and shook his head. “Already trying to use her against me?” She laughed. “If you can’t use loved ones against each other, what’s the point of knowing about them?” “We’re here,” Ryor said. “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot. The woods are too dense for the ships.” Evangeline looked in front of them to a nearing wall of greens and browns. The Faerie Wood. She looked at Daniel, who focused entirely on the forest. “Was this what you expected when you first saw it?” Daniel blinked. “What?” “The faeries and their woods,” she said, using her fingers for quotes around woods. “You always believed in them, right?” He shrugged. “I was reasonably sure they existed, but they’re totally not what I expected, no.” “What’s different? You told me a lot about Lizzy—” “Lizzbre,” he corrected. “But nothing about the rest of them.” She looked back at the growing trees. “Or ... here.”

“You’ll see.” Ryor landed the ship, some of his battalion doing likewise behind them, others flying overhead. He grabbed his bag, letting Evangeline carry hers. Daniel reached over to take it from her, but Ryor stopped him. “Do not coddle her.” Evangeline stopped and looked up at her husband, who barely spared her a glance before walking on. She could be crazy, but he seemed angry. Maybe he’d rethought the mother’s diary thing and decided, yes, he was mad at her. Then again, maybe he was on edge over his meeting with Caprion. Or most likely, he was stewing on the Tralg situation. But his lips curved slightly before he walked on. When she’d come out of her room wearing this luxurious silk dress with flowing red cape. He’d expressed his arousal, along with his wish to take her right back inside, but she laughed and held him off, unwilling to muss her hair. Now, too excited about the prospect of meeting what she had considered mythical creatures to wallow in speculation, she hefted her bag in one hand, the hem of her dress in the other, and moved toward Daniel, trying to pair with his enthusiasm. They walked into the sparse trees, through a narrow trail littered with dried leaves and rocks, until the way opened to a wider dirt path and the trees thickened into dense forest. After another ten minutes, the path changed again, edged with small blocks of gray, brown, and black stones, the smoother dirt giving way to stone pavers, taking on a more road-like appearance. “This is their Main Street,” Daniel whispered. Evangeline began really looking around. The air here was so different, the trees high and full, their broad trunks ing thick, bountiful branches exploding with glossy green leaves. Her eyes travelled up, taking in the regal splendor, when through the leaves, she spotted ropes and boards. The more she looked, the more she saw, revealing a network of narrow bridges and what looked like classic cone-shaped beehives, about a meter high. She felt eyes on her as she walked. Not just looks, but quizzical gazes. To say so

aloud would call more attention, so she kept it to herself. “What are those?” she asked, tipping her head back, staring into the canopy. “That’s where the cruanara live,” Ryor answered. “They’re small. Like gerbils,” Daniel said. “Well, no tails, so more like hamsters, though they’re probably better compared to fat goats.” She turned to Daniel, surprised he knew the answer, and by his bizarre description. “Goats. In the trees.” “They’re not goats, they kind of look like goats. They have little horns and beards, but they’re this size,” he answered, cupping his palm upward. She withheld her eye roll. It was entirely possible they were exactly as she now pictured them in her mind. Anything was possible on Innovia, right? “And those ... hive things are their houses?” “They don’t have fixed lodgings,” Ryor added. “When they sense danger, as many as will fit cram into a comb and wait until the danger es. If there’s no room, they go to another. It doesn’t seem to matter which. They aren’t territorial. At least with combs. With mates and areas, it’s different.” “Yeah, but they’re dumb,” Daniel added. “They’re easy targets all in one place.” “Targets for what?” He shrugged. Ryor walked on ahead, his men coming up behind them. “What’s with him?” Daniel asked. “Not sure. He was fine a little while ago. Maybe it’s that Caprion guy. Ryor said he was back.” Daniel tensed at the name. “He’s here?” Evangeline bit her lower lip. Maybe she shouldn’t have let that slip. It was

insensitive. She should have let Daniel find out for himself. Or better yet, she should have told him before they’d come. He fell silent as they continued on. The scent of mossy earth was overwhelming, filling her lungs with cool, fragrant air. It reminded her of the woods in Washington, but though the air was as fresh, it was sweeter here. Walking another couple minutes, they came to a section where hundreds of trees burst with red, pink and orange foliage. Like autumn, in mid-summer. “This is amazing.” She smiled as she sucked in a deep breath and let it out. One corner of Ryor’s lips kicked up and his gaze remained on her as her own went up one tree and down another, coming to rest at the base. Her eyes widened when they focused on a door set into one of the trees. A door! About two feet high. Daniel had been right about this, at least. “Is ... that....?” she had to ask anyway, taking in the bejeweled pediment and pilasters. “Yes,” Ryor answered. The enormous tree beside it had a stained-glass transom above a red door with a greenish bowl hanging from a hook in its center. She stepped closer, stooping to inspect the colored glass, the bowl, and its liquid contents. It looked like water. “Their spiritual leader lives there. I forget his title,” Ryor said. “Elder,” Daniel supplied. “Church is in a tree?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. “No, that’s the elder’s house. Their church has no building.” “They hold meetings and ceremonies outside,” Ryor said. “Or at the bar,” Daniel sniggered. Ryor smirked. Evangeline shot Daniel a look, then returned to Ryor. “So they’re like...? Who do

they worship? Or what?” “I don’t know.” She looked at Daniel. “They’re independent thinkers,” he said. “They worship some deity or other— not our God—but not an animal or nature or anything, like some people believe. I think it’s supposed to be the father of their race or something.” Evangeline shrugged, truly more curious about the sights in front of her than in the worship habits of faeries. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Daniel already knew more about them than Ryor did. He took a deep abiding interest in anything that concerned him, and having lived with them, it made total sense. She supposed Ryor, too, had learned all that would concern him. He probably wouldn’t bother with things that didn’t affect him or the kingdom directly. A scraping sound to their left caused them all to turn and witness a piece of earth lift and slide over, revealing a hole in the ground. A swath of red fabric popped out of the hole, a man beneath it, huffing as he climbed out. He was small! Tiny! The height of a baby! “Prince Ryor! Hallew!” The man grew in size as he approached and clasped hands with Ryor, who smiled briefly. “Welcome, welcome!” the man said, then turned to Daniel. “Couldn’t stay away, Blue?” He laughed. Well, more cackled. Evangeline laughed, too. “Blue?” Daniel gave her a dirty look. “Foddle, this is Princess Evangeline,” Ryor said. Ah, so this was a foddle! He wiggled his bushy eyebrows at her, then looked back at Ryor before

sweeping the red hat from his head and bowing. “A pleasure, milady.” “The pleasure is mine,” Evangeline said with a smile, though still taken aback by what she had just seen. The man had been infant size, and now he was the height of a man! Not as tall as her, but not that far off. She extended her hand. Ryor scowled at her and took her arm, effectively removing her hand from Foddle’s reach. “Foddle is Commander of Arms,” Ryor told her. “Aren’t ya somethin’ ta look at?” Foddle said. “Maybe not as fair and fanciful as that silver-haired beauty, but you’ll do.” Evangeline wasn’t sure if she found his comparison to another woman insulting or not, but she was more tempted to be charmed. Who said fair and fanciful? The only woman she’d ever seen with silver hair was Ilna, and she really was stunning. But he couldn’t mean her, could he? “Hey, let’s get down ta the pub. My Eldava will be glad ta meet ya,” Foddle told Evangeline. “She’ll fix ya up some nice food.” Evangeline looked at Ryor. She had eaten already, and it hadn’t settled well with her. “We’ve just eaten,” Ryor said. “Oh.” Foddle tapped a pointed toed shoe. “Well then, have a drink!” With that, he turned, expecting them to follow, which they did. Evangeline had so many questions about all the trees she saw, but none so pressing as the question about him growing before her eyes. “You know ... uh ... Caprion is back....” Foddle said, slanting a side glance at Daniel. Evangeline cocked her head in their direction, noting Ryor’s lack of reaction and Daniel’s shoulders tensing. She did not know what would happen there. From what she gathered, the faeries were strange creatures, Caprion possibly more so. Would he challenge Daniel to a duel or something? She didn’t doubt Daniel

could handle himself, but.... It was all too strange! As they walked, many faeries—most normal size—came out to welcome them. They weren’t obligated to treat her as royalty, but were genuinely nice to her, though a bit odd. She guessed they might never have met an “Earth” before and were as mesmerized as she was by them. Of course, they’d met Daniel, but he was a separate experience altogether. ‘Blue.’ She held back a snort. Daniel looked at her. “What?” She noted none of them tried to shake her hand. Though some greeted Daniel with shakes, backslaps and warm embraces, apparently, it was considered rude to touch royals, though Foddle didn’t seem to mind. Probably why Ryor had interrupted his handshake. She shook her head and followed as Foddle led them into what looked like a cave. Her eyes widened, taking in the hole in the ground leading through dirt and tree roots. Ryor had to duck to underneath, but wall mounted candles lit the way ahead, so that was something. “Allew!” Foddle called out. Immediately, a wide door opened ahead, flooding the sparse area with light and the sounds of shuffling and pots rattling, as well as the smells of food. A round faced woman wearing a white dress with a blue apron came out to greet them as they turned lamps up. “Eldava!” Foddle called. He walked up to the woman and planted a smacking kiss on her lips. She giggled and pushed him back playfully. “You!” He laughed, wrapping his arms around her thick middle. “Fill ma stomach with bread and I’ll fill yer heart with joy and yer bed with warmth.” Evangeline smiled. It was romantic in a quirky way. “Not in front of guests,” Eldava said. She sent Daniel a frown, then faced Evangeline, ignoring Ryor altogether. “Howdy do!” she said.

“Hello,” she replied with a quick nod. “Are ya hungry, then?” the small woman asked. “No, I’ve already eaten,” Evangeline said. “But thank you so much. It’s kind of you to offer.” Eldava grabbed her by the arm, closed her eyes, and dipped her head to the floor. In a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at her strangely. She shot a look to her husband, who patted her shoulder before slipping his arm over it. “How ‘bout some drinks, then?” Foddle asked, moving Eldava into the kitchen. Evangeline watched them murmur to one another, then nod and turn back, smiling. She looked to Ryor, to see if he noticed, but he was watching Daniel, who was watching a lovely girl swan forward on silver slippered feet. Ah. Lizzbre. She immediately saw his attraction. Pale complexion, hair the shade of wheat in the sunshine, and green eyes. Now that she noticed, every faerie she’d met had green eyes. Hmm. She was several inches shorter than Daniel and well-rounded. Not fat by any means, just—she’d heard him say once of a girl back home—put together. Daniel moved past Evangeline, smiling. The moment Lizzbre caught sight of him, she lit up, her smile broadening quickly, eyes sparking to life. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she darted to Daniel on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Daniel gathered her in his arms and bent to kiss her, but she blocked him with slim fingers over his lips. “Ya mustn’t!” she whispered fiercely. “Caprion is comin’.” “We have to tell him, Lizzbre,” Daniel said. “If you still feel the same, that is.” “I don’t, no,” she said. Before Evangeline’s heart could drop to her stomach, Lizzbre touched a gentle hand to Daniel’s face. “I feel so much more. Bein’ parted from ya has ripped a seam in ma soul. Have

ya not felt it? My soul escapin’ and comin’ to ya a bit at a time?” Daniel took her hand from his face and smiled. “But I have ta handle the tellin’ properly. I will. You,” she said with a light poke to his chest, “must remain out of it.” “What are—” Lizzbre pulled her arms back to her sides and stepped away when a man of Ryor’s size came in. He was handsome, Evangeline would say that. He was clearly Voren. Regal, monstrous, and grim-faced. With that scowl, he could for Ryor’s brother. When he saw Ryor, he smiled. So, too, did Ryor. They clapped shoulders and then stepped back, Caprion to face Daniel, Ryor to summon Evangeline over with two fingers. Her eyebrows went up. He’d never so summoned her before. She didn’t care for it. But this was a special meeting, so she would take it up with him later, in private.

CHAPTER 13

“T HIS IS MY WIFE, Evangeline ,” Ryor said. Caprion looked away from Daniel and grinned down into her face. “You are a fair one, aren’t you?” Evangeline didn’t have a reply to that, so said, “It’s nice to meet you.” Because she’d heard he was highly regarded among the faeries, she felt compelled to curtsy, but refrained. She in no way felt compelled to face Ryor’s wrath if she did such a thing. “My compliments to you, Ryor. I know you have an interest in collecting fascinating trinkets from off-world.” “She is no trinket,” Ryor answered without heat. Caprion laughed. “Ah. The crowning jewel, yes. I have found my own.” He turned to Daniel then, tilting his head to regard him. “You are blue,” he said, as though delivering news. Daniel’s jaw muscle flexed. “Blue death,” Caprion said. “Hmm. What would you say was your reason for survival?” “I don’t know,” Daniel answered. “Maybe God preserved me for better things.” He slid a glance to Lizzbre. Caprion’s right brow peaked. “I would say it is your Earth blood that saved you.” “That may be true.” “But it can’t save you from everything.” Caprion took Lizzbre by the arm and led her past the kitchen and into a tunnel.

“What was that about?” Evangeline asked, staring after them. “Sounded like a challenge to me,” Daniel said. “Or a warning.” “You’re both wrong.” They looked at Ryor, taking a seat at a table that had just been set up for them. “Oh?” she asked. “He’s just an ass. That’s the Earth word, yes?” Evangeline nodded, smiling. Just then, Ilna walked in. It surprised Evangeline to see her, but no more than the girl herself, who stopped in her tracks when she saw Ryor. “Oh!” she exclaimed, and gave him a low curtsy. Ryor looked sternly down at her, then turned away and addressed Foddle as he entered with another man. Ilna gripped the sides of her dress and bit her lip, and Evangeline went to her, looking back over her shoulder to her husband, but his interest was elsewhere. “Ilna, hello.” Ilna curtsied and hung her head. “Look up,” Evangeline said. She did. “What are you doing here?” Ilna’s gaze automatically shot to Caprion, now halfway down the darkening corridor. What business could she have with Caprion? Or was it with Lizzbre? “I’m.... My mother and I....” Her eyes flitted from him back to Evangeline and to Caprion again. Oh! Evangeline took Ilna by the arm, surreptitiously looking over her shoulder to see that Ryor wasn’t looking.

“Ilna ... is Caprion...?” She nodded, confirming without needing to be asked if he was the one she loved. Evangeline didn’t know what to make of any of it. “Does he know?” “Yes,” she said. “He loves me as well.” “But....” “He is committed to the faerie’s binding oath, to her family’s and his caretakers’ pledge to bind them together.” Ilna’s eyes shone with unshed tears. Ryor glanced over at them, then returned his attention to his company. Evangeline led Ilna a few more steps away. “You aren’t going to just let him marry her, are you?” “We can be lovers,” she blurted, and blushed. “Lov.... That’s not for someone like you. You need a husband.” Evangeline dropped a hand to her hip. “I take it that’s Caprion’s plan?” “No. T’was mine.” Ilna nodded. “But he refused. He said the same as you. And he is not one for taking mistresses. But I just want to be with him.” It didn’t seem fair to Evangeline at all that two people who wanted to be together couldn’t be, especially when each desired partner wanted to be with someone else. She wondered how to get the right couples together without causing a sensation among the faeries. “I happen to know that Lizzbre loves another,” she said, finally, offering hope. Ilna’s sparkling eyes grew wide. “You know this how?” “I just do. And that he loves her. I don’t know how this faerie pledge thing works, but—” “They were committed from the time they were small. It can’t be excused without reason.” “What reason?”

“If there is betrayal, or if one curses the other.” Evangeline tilted her head. “Curses? Like ... how?” “You know, casts a spell ... curses them.” Surely these people didn’t believe in such things. “Then they are brought before the ranks, and if the curse is serious enough to warrant punishment, they ister it. If not, the offended party decides if they will forgive and marry, or else dismiss them without penalty. Then each goes their own way.” Ilna crossed her arms. “But if they recommit and it happens again.... Death.” Evangeline wondered if Daniel had any idea the beings he’d been interested in since he was a child had such harsh codes for living. There had to be a way to work this out. She steered Ilna back the way they’d come in, into the dappled sunshine outside the door. She lowered her voice. “So, if Caprion and Lizzbre were to ... split.... Call off their engagement,” she added when Ilna’s eyebrows pulled together in concern, “You and he would be free to get together?” The girl nodded and sighed. “Unless he then found another.” She looked positively heart broken. The way she would have looked every day if she had married Ryor. Yet Evangeline was perfectly happy. Proving there was a mate for everyone and that it was of utmost importance to see the proper couples matched up. But how? “Will you see Caprion?” “Yes. He invited my mother and I to his home this evening for dinner.” “Ah, okay.” “You’ll be there, of course,” Ilna said. “You and the prince are honored guests, I’m sure.”

Evangeline had heard nothing about dinner plans yet, but it made sense. “Here you are,” Ryor said from behind them, his face lit with suspicion as he looked from one to the other. “Plotting?” “Uh ... we were discussing dinner plans,” Evangeline said. He sent her a sly look. “Were you?” She smiled and took his hand, moving to his side. “Yes. Ilna said we’d probably be invited to Caprion’s.” “Did she?” he asked, sending Ilna a hard look. “And what else does Ilna know?” “Uh ... noth—nothing, my prince,” Ilna said. She gave a quick curtsy and excused herself. “Did you know Caprion is the one she loves?” Evangeline asked when Ilna was out of earshot. “No, I didn’t.” She looked up into his handsome face, now set in a fierce scowl, and hoped she hadn’t said something wrong. “Is that a problem?” “Why should she prefer him over me?” “Seriously?” She couldn’t believe the childish jealousy coming to the fore right now. He leered down at her. Waiting. “Maybe he’s not as....” She couldn’t help the giggle. What to say without insulting him? “Impatient.” He seemed to consider this for several seconds before turning, placing a palm to the middle of her back, and escorting her back inside. Once word of their arrival got out, the faeries entered the feast room en masse to fill her cup and plate, ask her about all things Earth, add more to her still full cup and plate, and stare at her. She couldn’t figure that out. Not just looking, like one

might a new member of the fold, but really looking. When they were small. the tops of their ears peaked to rounded points, their eyes appeared to glitter, but once they were human-size, they weren’t that different in appearance from humans. A little hairier, eyes sharper perhaps. What was so fascinating? “And how many children ae ya plannin’?” a woman asked, plopping into a recently vacated seat beside her. Eldava elbowed her and gave her a stern glare. “That’s personal.” The woman—Evangeline was pretty sure her name was Rivy, but with their odd accents, who could tell?—was surprised to be rebuked so, and questioned Eldava with her eyes. Eldava returned her look and cocked her head. A clear warning to change the subject. Ryor caught the exchange and focused his attention on them. “Is there something —” “Ya know how we ladies ae. Earth folk.” Eldava waved him off and went to the kitchen. Something was going on, but Ryor was already talking again with the menfolk. Evangeline got up, and with a smile and shrug for her husband, walked toward the kitchen. She swore some of that faerie magic was responsible for the sight before her. The back wall was a large rectangular fire pit, with racks set atop for cooking, different sections at different flame heights. There was food everywhere. Enough for a small army. And on a wood counter, a bowl of what she honestly thought was multi-colored glitter. Three women and a man stood at the stove, each tending to their cooking duties. As each finished, they moved to the glitter bowl, scooped a handful out and dashed it into the food. She’d long since stopped asking what was in foods put in front of her, but how could she not, now? “What’s that for?”

“‘Tis faerie dust,” Eldava said, suddenly beside her. Faerie dust? Didn’t that make people float away on the wind? Was this one of those pranks Ryor warned her about? “I heard faerie dust makes people fly,” Evangeline said. “Ah, true enough, if this were flyin’ dust, which it isn’t.” She ran her hand through the glitter. “This makes things sweet, of course. ’Tis harmless to humans. But I’ll see they put some less in yers. The dust can plump a thing and you’ll be plumpin’ soon enough.” Evangeline wondered what that meant. She must have looked confused, because Eldava nudged her slightly in the ribs. “You’ll be pullin’ the cork out the bottle before long,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean,” Evangeline said, holding her hands up. Eldava snorted, but then pulled her head back and erased the grin when she saw Evangeline was serious. “Why, I mean the young prince, of course. Or princess, dependin’ how much daffodil ya’ve been around. Were there flowers in yer bed chamber when ya did the deed?” Evangeline’s brain froze for a moment. “Excuse me?” Was she asking...? Rather, telling...? Young prince? “Oh my, I shouldn’t have said anythin’,” Eldava said, bring her hands to her lips. “I assumed ya knew.” “Knew?” “Sure, about the tot. Ya didn’t?” Pregnant? She was preg...? “Are you ... sure?” Eldava could just be guessing. But Daniel had told her faeries knew all manner of things, whether from looking in ancient texts, or reading flower petals tossed into the wind. Eldava arched a bushy eyebrow and patted Evangeline’s arm, lowering her

voice. “Ya’ve not yet felt the babe?” Instinctively, Evangeline brought a hand to her belly. “Ya’ve not been ill? Or tired?” She had been a little tired, but that was because she’d been taking her weapons’ training more seriously lately, especially the bow. Some mornings she would go several hours before breaking. And her stomach was a little ... off now and again, but that was probably.... “I ... how do you know?” she asked. “How can you possibly know something about me even I don’t?” “It’s not about you,” Eldava returned. “It’s about the babe. And it’s makin’ its presence known.” Evangeline swallowed. “Known how?” “I can see the light,” Eldava said with a wink. “Light?” She waved her hands around Evangeline’s abdomen. “They shine, dearie. They can’t keep the light in.” “And ... you can see it?” That was bizarre. “Most faerie folk can. In humans, at least.” Evangeline didn’t know what to do with this information, or even how she felt about it. Pregnant? It was the reason Ryor had married her. To provide an heir to the throne. Only now.... It was actually happening, wasn’t it? She didn’t feel any different. Nothing she would attribute to pregnancy. She slid a glance to the others in the room, not knowing if they’d heard. If Ryor was going to be a father, she wanted to be the one to tell him. No one else. “Can ... will they...?” she pointed a feeble finger at the other occupants. Eldava inclined her head, trying to piece together what she was saying.

Evangeline groaned. “I want to be the one to tell my husband.” “Of course.” “I mean, what if someone ... notices, like you did, and...?” Eldava clapped her hands together, and the man and women turned from their duties. “Listen here. No one is ta say anythin’ ta anyone about this Earth’s condition. Y’hear?” They nodded. “And spread the word.” She turned to Evangeline, satisfied. “There then.” Well, that took care of those here. What of the rest of the population they were sure to meet through their stay? Oh dear, she’d have to tell Ryor soon. She suddenly felt lightheaded and leaned back against a table, which slid under her weight. “Ooo!” She grabbed Eldava’s hand, who’d reached for her to keep her from falling, and righted herself. Forgetting whatever reason she’d had for coming into the kitchen in the first place, she took a steadying breath and returned to her husband, now surrounded by faeries, chattering and splashing what looked like ale over the table’s dark surface as they slammed down their pints. Just like she’d seen in movies. Her seat was open, and she slipped into it, avoiding Ryor’s questioning eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked. “Yup. Fine. Great. Just taking it all in.” He nodded dubiously and asked a man called Jabber about the south to some place or other. With her mind worked up in a fit of excitement and nerves, she couldn’t make out if there had been some trouble in that area or if they might be expecting it. She didn’t care. She was expecting! Just then, a blade of dread pierced her chest. According to Ryor’s own words, once she had a baby, he was free to resume extramarital activities with his mistresses. How was she supposed to handle that? Just sit by when he left the

palace, knowing he was on his way to some ... tramp ... to.... No! No way would she allow such a thing. She didn’t care about Voren's customs! Anyway, she was getting ahead of herself. She didn’t know for sure she was pregnant. Faeries were interesting people, but honestly, seeing the light of an unborn child? From outside? What if this was one of those pranks? She would check with a proper doctor to confirm or disprove whether or not she was with child. Since Torin was the only proper doctor she knew, she would call him ASAP. “Is something the matter?” Ryor asked her again, placing a hand on her shoulder. False smile in place, Evangeline patted his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little ... claustrophobic. Mind if I go out for some air?” “I’ll come with you.” She wanted to refuse—she could use a few minutes to plan what she would say to him should Torin confirm Eldava’s theory—but brushing him off would look suspicious in a place she’d never been. Ryor didn’t bother excusing himself, just got up from the table and walked her out.

CHAPTER 14

“I T’S LOVELY HERE,” she said, turning her face up to the tree cover, using her hand to shield her eyes from the beam of sun slicing through. Ryor didn’t reply. When she looked at him, he was watching her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing.” She dropped her hand and looked at him. “It’s just all still ... unreal. Faeries?” She chortled. “Come on. Who believes in faeries?” She was lying. Holding something back. He looked deeper, causing her to shift uncomfortably. “I’ll find out, you know.” She giggled. “Suspicious.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “And thoughtful.” She kept his hand as they started walking. “I just don’t ... fit in. It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure no one fits in with faeries. It’s not as though they’re doing anything, just being faeries. Seeing them shrink and grow again is weird, but I’ll handle it.” Again, he looked at her, then faced forward. Babbling was a dead giveaway when she lied. She was probably plotting some way to get Daniel and Lizzbre together under Caprion’s nose. He could not recommend that. He didn’t know Caprion well, but had heard that his spoiled, selfish nature made him mercurial to contend with on the best of days. Over matters of the heart, well.... Ryor could not pretend to know his feelings for the woman or what he would do if challenged, and he would not allow his wife to make it her business. With his company behind them, they strolled hand in hand along a wide path that further ahead skirted a green pond. Willow trees circled the standing water, rippling only slightly from the mild breeze and flitting dragonfly wings. “It’s so peaceful.” Evangeline looked up at him.

“What?” he asked. “You said it’s peaceful.” “Yes....” She gave him an odd expression, then shrugged. “I’ve never heard you mention peace. Being peaceful.” He looked out across the water. “Those who have seen war revere peace.” She paused, then tilted her head up at him. “And how much have you seen?” It almost sounded funny, but then, she wasn’t from here. “There is usually war somewhere on Innovia. It’s a pleasant place, I suppose, as is your Earth,” he said with an open palm. “But like everywhere, some get edgy. They can’t be alone with themselves long enough to find happiness, so they incite others to be as discontented as they are.” “And then you have war.” He nodded. “Sometimes it is between neighboring areas, sometimes provinces.” He sighed. “There are always those who think they can rule the world better.” “And what about you?” Evangeline asked. “We are pleased to have our people happy and productive. None are held back by anything more than their desire or drive.” Of course, not to hear the Purists’ view. They believed everything to be racially motivated, stemming from the outworlders back through the bloodlines. She gave him a quick smile and looked up into the treetops. “I imagine it’s always peaceful here.” “Now.” “What do you mean?” “A decade ago, this camp was at war.”

“War? With who?” “Others of their kind. From the far end.” “The far end of what?” she asked. Her eyes had gone wide and innocent and he wanted to kiss her, but it would hardly be appropriate with his men watching. “Of the wood. It was over traditions they hold, but the Purists tried to involve themselves.” “The Purists? Why would they care about faeries?” “A question the faeries had, as well. The Purists tactic is largely to divide and conquer.” “We have that saying, too.” They exchanged a long look, but continued walking. “They tried to convince half that they were closer to true faerie blood because they still sacrificed small animals on their feast days while the rest did not. They incited arguments and even battles, and invited the purer ones to their ... group. And since faeries enjoy war as much as anything else, it’s not as hard as one might think to ... stir them up.” “I’d heard they were warlike, but now having met them, I can’t imagine them taking part in anything more dangerous than a pillow fight.” “They can be vicious and extremely dangerous. But only if their mood suits it. And, while not overly smart, faeries are sharper than they seem. The Purist involvement quickly drew them to unite in driving the Purists out of their territory. Peace was reclaimed.” She smiled at him. “You’re something, you know that?” “What?” “That was a pretty good summation.”

He tipped his hand over and back. “Just a piece of information. I am unfamiliar with most of their history. She laughed, and he was delighted. “And what about the Sasquatch?” He gave a brief chuckle. “I don’t understand why your people are so fascinated by them.” “Because they’re mysterious! Elusive! You know, the tall, dark and mysterious thing....” She laughed. He didn’t. “But people also claim they’re violent and scary.” “Hmm.” “They come to Earth all the time. Why?” “You would have to ask one of them. My father is hosting a gathering of Innovia realms in a month’s time. You can ask the Sasquatch representative directly.” “Really? Actually talk to one? You’re kidding!” “Through a translator, naturally. Unless you speak in howls, whistles and grunts.” Evangeline blinked. “I would love to talk to one.” “Be warned. They aren’t very ... communicative with those outside their race. They have little respect for anything smaller than themselves.” “That’s practically everyone. But you,” she added, looking him up and down his entire length. “Yes.” “So you’d never find one here,” she said, looking off into the trees. “No. Not this far south. They like a cooler temperature.” He paused. “What would you ask one?”

He smirked when her lips twisted first one way, then the other, as her eyes darted up and to the right. “I’m not really sure. It’s not like I could do anything with the information, anyway. Only Earths would be interested.” She shrugged. “I guess maybe why they’re so private. And why no one has ever found a dead one.” Ryor chuckled again. “I can answer that. They are Innovia born, so if they die in your world, decompose rapidly.” “But their bo—” “Bones as well.” “They just vanish? Like they were never there?” He nodded. “So, the same would be true of mermaids? Faeries?” “Yes. Well, not faeries. They reside on Earth as well. They’re a hardier lot.” “Than Sasquatch?” He laughed. “Yes.” “Hmm.” The bridge of her nose fashioned a tiny thought line. “People? I mean, you said once we’re here a while....” “Yes. People, too. If we’re there over two weeks, our body starts breaking down.” Evangeline gave a delicate shudder and took his hand again, remaining quiet until they came to a tiny inlet where small waves washed up against the dark brown sand. She peered into the water, pulling back suddenly when she saw something. “What?” she asked herself. “What did you see?”

“Me!” She half laughed, half gasped. “It was me, looking back, but it wasn’t my reflection and there’s nothing there. And it was small, like a few inches under the water!” She looked again and something below the surface splashed a tiny fountain. Then all was calm. Ryor smiled. “It’s a mimic.” Her questioning gaze moved between him and the water. “It often appears as a dungeonfly splashing in the surf, tricking others into the water to rescue them.” “Why?” “Dungeonflies are their favorite meal. And it has to eat.” Evangeline stepped behind him, stretching forward to search the water’s edge. “Do they eat people?” “No. When prey is too large, they work as a unit, but humans are too much, even for them.” There was a commotion behind them, and Ryor turned to see Jabber jogging up the path. “Yo there!” he called, in that merry tone Ryor found mildly grating. He caught up to them and paused a moment to catch his breath. “What is it?” Ryor asked. “There is word.” Puff. Puff. “From Voren proper.” Ryor tensed. “Yes?” “There are troops movin’. I dunna know what it means, that’s all I was told.” Jabber took a deep breath and continued. “Communications ae out.”

Ryor raised his watch hand and pushed buttons. “Dead.” “What’s going on?” Evangeline asked, suddenly nervous. Without answering her, he signaled his men. “We’re leaving.” He turned to Jabber. “Who told you this?” “Caprion. Moments ago.” Ryor took Evangeline by the shoulders. “You will stay here.” “No. I’m coming with you.” “Very well. But I’m leaving you at the Prayer House in case someone has taken the palace.” He took the key from around his neck and gave it to her. “Keep this close.” For a moment he thought she would argue, but when she didn’t, he took her hand and walked her back the way they’d come. Caprion met them along the path. “I’m sorry to bring such news, Ryor.” “How do you know?” “The Sasquatch don’t care about the affairs of men, but they noticed what was happening,” he answered with a smirk. “They are all for fairness and property rights. They said to let you know the invaders are watching the south for your arrival. I would come along, but your kingdom has naught to do with me.” “You’ve been help enough. Thank you,” Ryor said. “And if circumstances permit, tell the Sasquatch thank you as well. Where is Daniel?” “Where, indeed?” He paused, then added to himself, “I wonder if I’ll kill him.” Then he shrugged and walked off. Ryor didn’t have time to puzzle through the reply. He turned to Jabber. “Please find him. Tell him we leave now.” Jabber went on his way, and Ryor turned back to his wife. She clutched his hand tightly.

“What’s happening?” “Tralg is making his move. I have to get to my father.” Her tears welled, but she didn’t let them overflow as she nodded. “You will go to the Prayer House with Daniel. Torin will keep you safe.” “But I want to help,” she said. “You’ll help by staying out of harm’s way so I don’t have to worry about you.” She bit the inside of her lip, usually a sign she was thinking of something. “Evangeline.” He took her soft cheek in his hard palm. “Please do as I ask.” He kissed her other cheek then, for kissing her lips would take too long, and only refresh the memory of what he was walking away from. There was a chance he wouldn’t return from this mission, and he could not die with her kiss fresh on his lips. He turned and strode away, calling for Foddle. Daniel ran up to Ryor from a path in the woods. “What is it? What’s happening?” Daniel asked. “Tralg’s forces are assailing the city. Take my wife to the Prayer House, but you have to take another route, by land. His men are waiting along the way.” “I will fight.” “If necessary, yes, but since your priority is to guard Evangeline, I hope it won’t come to that.” Daniel grabbed Ryor’s arm as he moved to . “Are you nuts? I’ve been waiting for this chance to kick Tralg’s ass!” Ryor gripped Daniel’s wrist and tore his hand away. “My wife is the most important thing there is. Beyond vengeance. Beyond anything else.” He watched Daniel’s face accept his words, recognize them as truth.

“Foddle will show you how to get to the Prayer House. Please,” Ryor added. “Allay your rage for another time.” Foddle ran up, already geared for battle, wings included, twenty others with him. “What are you doing?” Ryor asked. “What’s it look like?” “I’m not asking you to fight with me.” “We make our own choices if ya don’t mind. Fight where an’ when we please.” Ryor wouldn’t refuse their help with Cri’ar likely adding to Tralg’s numbers. “You are welcome, of course. But I need you to ferry my wife and him to the Prayer House,” he said, gesturing to Daniel. “They must not be seen.” Foddle gave an odd salute and issued orders to his small army in fae before turning back to Ryor. “Done.” He signaled to Evangeline, who blinked at Ryor with damp eyes and went with the faerie band. Ryor turned his face away, even as Daniel slapped him on the back before leaving with her.

CHAPTER 15

EVANGELINE COULDN’T BELIEVE what she was seeing, any more than she could believe what she wasn’t seeing. She and Daniel were under a tarp in a wagon, escorted by no less than a hundred faeries. They’d travelled about an hour already, pausing several times when one of the men would yell, “Hol,” to the others. She took it to mean “hold up,” or “hold on.” The last time he issued such an order, she’d spied from under the tarp to see a Voren ship fly overhead. “There’s a ship,” she told Daniel, folded uncomfortably on his side of the wagon with the luggage. “A scout looking for us. And Ryor, obviously.” Her heart gave a thud of denial. Ryor was a warrior. No one looked for him. He looked for them. “Won’t we look suspicious? A roving band of faeries?” “We’re invisible,” came Foddle’s voice from outside the wagon. “They can’t see us.” “Why not?” “We’re under a cloak an’ so ae you. The cloak yer under, it’s magic,” he said with mirth. “We stop when they’re coming so they don’t see the dust kicked up from the wheels.” It was too much to question with her mind so concerned about her husband and what was happening at home. She decided to just believe what Foddle said and continue praying everything would work out. She had no experience with traitors upsetting the balance of power, but no war ever happened without casualties. The ground was pretty flat and smooth so the gentle rocking might have lulled her to sleep if fear over Ryor didn’t have her heart racing in time with her thoughts. Terrible ones. Ugly ones. Entirely too many. She wouldn’t allow any of

them if she could help it. Daniel’s eyes were closed, too, slitting only when the wagon hit a stone. She knew he would do whatever he had to to protect her, and that likely meant keeping her at his side. She had to get away from him. She’d been training for a while now, and for what? To sit and sip tea with an old man at the Prayer House? No. Prayer was certainly useful, but she could do that while she was fighting. And would. Training was one thing, but actual physical combat with an enemy.... Could she even do it? She’d only ever sparred with trainers, Daniel, and occasionally Ryor. Not anyone determined to kill her. What if she died, leaving Ryor a widower and Daniel without his best friend? And she had someone else to consider. The very one who had prevented her from arguing with Ryor about staying by his side. The baby. Though there was a chance she wasn’t pregnant. Torin would tell her for sure. “Wer almost there,” Foddle said, this time sounding as if he hovered over her. Wings. She’d seen faeries with wings. She’d heard they could only use them when going to war. But faeries fighting for Voren? Another thing she couldn’t think about right now. She shook her head, and Daniel noticed. “What?” “I’m just thinking, that’s all.” He lifted his chin. “Ryor’s going to be fine, Evie. He’s a beast and probably the angriest guy I’ve ever met. No one fights like these guys. In our world even the SEALS wouldn’t stand a chance against them.” “But the people they’re fighting are the same type of fighters.” She could tell from Daniel’s expression he was just now realizing the same thing, and that maybe they might be worse since Tralg had obviously trained them purposely for this mission. This ... coup. No. She closed her eyes tight. This would not be a coup. Qeron and Ryor would win, and Tralg would be defeated. Period.

There was noise in the distance, growing slowly louder. Voices, the clatter of carts, the roll of tires on the ground. They must be very near the Prayer House. So far none of the voices sounded upset or frightened. Whatever was going on at the palace or Ryor’s castle hadn’t cascaded down this far. If the entire area wasn’t in complete upheaval by now, maybe things weren’t as bad as anticipated. The wagon came to a stop. “Here’s where ya get off,” Foddle said, flipping back the tarp. She looked up to see they were under a pergola beside the Prayer House. Daniel jumped out and lifted her from the wagon as the faeries dropped their bags to the ground. “I have the key,” she said, moving toward the door. It didn’t matter which door, the key would open it. She turned to Foddle. “Thank you so much.” Daniel took the bags and gave him a nod. Foddle inclined his head, then signaled his men onward. Inside, they moved cautiously through the empty halls, not knowing what to expect. Communications were supposedly down, so Ryor couldn’t have called ahead, and the fewer people who saw them, the better. She was pleased to find Torin crossing at an intersection right near them. Seeing them, he waited, tilting his head, wondering. “We can’t be seen,” Daniel said, taking Torin by the sleeve of his robe. Torin wasted no time hurrying them along. “Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked, leading them through a door and down a winding staircase. “I think we all might be in trouble,” Evangeline said. “Ryor sent us here.” “There’s a bit of a mutiny at the palace,” Daniel said. “Tralg,” Torin said, bitterly. “Yes. Ryor’s on his way. Might be there already.” “Oh, I think the whole city would know if he was there.”

Yes, Torin was right. Ryor had to come another way, but if he and his men were there already, surely the fighting would be heard here. Unless he’d been discovered and Tralg had captured him, or.... Evangeline bit her bottom lip, refusing to think that way even for a moment. Daniel touched her arm. “He’s fine.” Torin led them to a sub-basement, and then down to another, and to a black metal door. “This is the Royal Suite. Where they would be cared for if they ever needed treatment. Or were willing to get it,” he said with a chuckle. He opened a door with a key similar to Ryor’s and they entered an apartment of sorts, with two hospital beds, seating area, kitchenette, and refreshing room. There was another area where electronic equipment was set up that Evangeline assumed was medical. “There is no way in but this one and a security escape through there.” He pointed to the kitchen area. “I’ll bring you food and drink. Lock the door behind me and let no one in,” Torin said, handing her his key. Locked inside, Evangeline and Daniel looked at one another. “Now what?” she asked. “Beats me.” Daniel walked around the space, dropping their bags in the kitchen. “Hey, is this a walk-in fridge?” He pulled open the door, shoulders slumping. “Empty.” “Are you hungry? Really?” “I’m pretty much always hungry.” “You never used to be.” “Yeah, well I’m not that guy anymore.”

No, he wasn’t. It was strange, but he seemed like his own big brother, the way she imagined boys liked to see themselves. Brave. Strong. Smart. Handsome. Except he was blue. It was kind of cute, actually. “You’re not hungry?” he asked. She lifted her shoulder. “I’m too upset to eat.” He gave her a nod, then raised his chin at her. “You haven’t been right even before this.” “That’s not true, I’m fine.” But her immediate rejection drew more attention. “Evie ... you okay? You’re not sick or anything....” “No.” She tried a smile, which caused him to narrow his eyes. She wanted to tell him her secret, but just couldn’t bring herself to. For one thing, it hadn’t been confirmed by a non-faerie, and for another, if Daniel suspected, he would never let her out of his sight even for a moment. “Okay, truth is ... I’m scared.” She never could hide her feelings from him. She’d never had to. And it was true at this moment. “I don’t want to be, but I’m terrified. What’s happening out there?” she asked, pointing in a random direction. Daniel pulled her toward him and hugged her. “I don’t know.” He pressed his chin against her head. “I don’t know.” She gripped his shirt. “What’s going to happen to us? If Tralg takes over—” “He won’t.” She shook her head, determined to confirm it. “No, he won’t. But ... if by some crazy twist something happened and he did ... where would we go? Even if we could find a portal to Earth, we can’t go back.” Daniel was silent, ramping her fear up that much more. How she wished Ryor was here to assure her he and Qeron were, and would remain, in command.

Gradually, they separated, and each found a place to sit. A moment later, Torin knocked and she let him in with a tray of food. “This will keep you for hours,” he said, watching as Daniel ate half a sandwich wrap in one bite. “Should you need more, I’ll come back every few hours as I’m able.” That phrase, as I’m able, concerned her. Why might he not be able? Would the Prayer House become a target in a war? Was that one reason this suite was located so far underground? Daniel asked aloud what she only wondered. “Will they come here?” Torin folded his hands. “We’ll have to wait and see.” “There’s no way to get you?” Evangeline asked. “There is a com system,” he answered. “But as far as I know, I am the only one who knows you two are here. Under the circumstances it might be best to keep it that way.” Daniel nodded and pulled his hand back before reaching for another sandwich. “Come, please.” Torin walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. “There’s nothing in there. I looked already,” Daniel said. But he and Evangeline went, anyway. Torin went inside, moved aside a small rolling shelf used for holding food, and reached up, inserting a finger into the vent in the ceiling. He gave a pull and a much larger came free, revealing a square hole large enough for a grown Voren man to squeeze through. “There is a chain here,” he said, pointing to the slim silver chain in the center of the . “Once you climb in, use it to pull the up, returning it to its place.” Daniel looked up. “It’s dark as sin up there.” “Lights come on automatically once you step on the switch a few paces away.”

“Where does it go?” “This age was built long ago by the reigning queen. It comes out at what used to be her outdoor spa chamber.” Daniel and Evangeline looked at one another. “Outdoor spa?” she asked. She’d yet to see that. “It had long since fallen into disrepair. It was just outside where the west courtyard now sits. It’s now part of the forest called the Grotto of Tranquility.” Yes, she knew exactly where it was. “That’s all I know. Whether it comes out at a rock or a hole in the earth, I do not know. But come. I must show you this.” They looked where he walked and pointed to a conspicuously inconspicuous part of a bedroom wall blocked by a large shelf. Evangeline rubbed her hand over a part where it looked as though a door stood. “There’s another ageway here?” Torin nodded. “It’s intended as a decoy. Anyone seeking you would see this and follow. Especially if you move the shelf and leave it open a bit, like this.” He cracked the door open just enough to make the entry more noticeable. “Do people fall for that?” “It is theory. To my knowledge it hasn’t been tested,” Torin said. “And where does this one go?” Evangeline asked. “I am told it continues for miles and ends at the cliffs of Lorridge. And that once you get past a certain point, there is no turning back.” The Lorridge cliffs were dreadful! Sheer and over two hundred feet high. She shuddered. Torin put things back as they had been and turned to them. “Is there anything I can get for you?” “Yes. News of what’s going on outside,” Daniel said.

“I will see what I can learn.” “Uh, Torin....” Evangeline said. “As long as you’re here ... can we talk a minute?” “What is it? What’s wrong?” Daniel asked, concerned. Evangeline laughed. “Nothing. Just ... a lady thing I’m not sure you want to hear about,” she said honestly. He made a face and went to sit down, picking up a holographic magazine. Evangeline followed Torin into the hall and grabbed his arm. “You can’t tell Daniel. Promise me,” she whispered urgently. Torin’s eyes widened. “All right, my princess.” “I need you to tell me if I’m pregnant.” His eyes widened further. “The faeries say I am, but I need to know for sure.” He presented a soft smile. “I have never known a faerie yet to be mistaken about such a thing. They see the light....” She nodded. “I know, but it kinda seems.... I’m from Earth. Give me facts, not faerie tales. Literally.” He nodded. “Without question.” “And you can’t tell anyone if I am. Not Daniel, not Ryor, no one.” That erased the smile. “I have to get my scanner.” “How long before I find out?” “Oh, there’s no waiting. Stand here, I’ll be right back.” He went up the staircase, disappearing after the landing. She hated not being able to tell Daniel, but he would make things difficult. Seeing that tunnel left no

doubt in her mind what she needed to do. She would follow it to the end and make her way into the castle. The bow was what she was best at, and it was with all her other equipment in the fighting arena in the basement. Of course, Daniel would want to help, but all she needed was a little head start to get there without him stopping her. Then he could do as he liked. She started fretting over Ryor and what he must be facing by now, what she might find at the castle, when Torin came back holding a small glowing green box. Without speaking, he held it to her abdomen. The green light flashed a couple times, then came back on, brighter than before. “You are indeed with child,” he said quietly. Evangeline felt her stomach drop to the floor. Such a definite pronouncement should be wonderful, exciting news. But under these circumstances, and not being able to tell anyone else, it was like being weighted with an anchor. “You are not happy?” Torin asked, his expression concerned. “Oh, I am. I really am,” she assured him, squeezing his arm. “The timing could be better....” She tried a small laugh, which Torin didn’t seem to understand. She couldn’t tell him her plan to use the tunnel. “Just please don’t say anything to Daniel.” She gave his arm another squeeze and went back inside. Torin followed. “Everything okay?” Daniel asked. “Yup. Nothing to worry about.” She turned to Torin and thanked him, hoping Daniel would just let it go. “Thanks again.” “So, what’s going on out there?” Daniel asked Torin. Evangeline relaxed for a second. Okay, so he was asking about the mutiny. Torin lowered his head, expression grave. “No one here has seen anything. But they have received word that many Royal Guard have died.” Evangeline placed a hand over her heart. Ryor was with most of the Royal Guard

who watched over him. Could Torin mean those men? Or the ones who guarded the king? Either way, this was a disaster! She had to get out of here. “The communication systems are not working so I’ve sent someone to see what they can find out.” “This is ridiculous,” Daniel said. “I can’t just sit here. I need to see what I can do.” “Right now, we need to pray,” Torin corrected. Daniel protested at first, but Evangeline nudged him and they formed a circle, not holding hands, but heads bowed, eyes closed. She felt the same as Daniel. Right from the start, her mind ran far ahead to the city and what might be happening. Where was Tralg? At the castle or the palace? What was he doing? She had to see for herself. “Excuse me,” she told the men. “I have to use the restroom. Keep praying. Be right back.” She left the circle and went to the bathroom, which was right next to the kitchen. When she finished, she grabbed her yoga pants and a top from her bag, made sure they weren’t looking, sneaked into the refrigerator and closed the door. After a lightning-fast change of clothes, she worked on pulling down the , stood on the rolling cart, and pulled herself up into the opening, thanking God for all the intense workouts now paying off in upper body strength. There was no point wasting time replacing the , so she didn’t, and after stepping forward to turn the light on, she jogged down the remarkably bright tunnel, checking over her shoulder regularly, knowing Daniel would follow soon. That was fine. She just wanted to get to a point where he would realize it was too late to send her back. The way was straight for at least a half mile, then came a mild but steady upgrade as the brownish point ahead that she’d been looking at the whole time expanded ever so slowly as she neared the end, and the door. Coming closer, she saw there was a lock, and used Ryor’s key, still on the chain around her neck. As she held it in her hand, unbidden tears sprang to her eyes. Ryor’s key. His key, given to her. She longed for the opportunity to give it back.

She sniffed, squaring her shoulders. “That’s enough,” she told herself aloud. Then to God, “I’m trusting You to get me through this. Please.” It surprised her to find the lock turned easily. The knob, too, though she turned it ever so slowly, having no clue what awaited her on the other side of the door. She paused and pressed her ear to the metal, hearing nothing, but knowing she could only move forward. Ryor wasn’t here in this tunnel. He was out there somewhere. And if she was going to give him back his key, she had to find him. Refusing to think of the child within her, she moved at an agonizingly slow pace, sliding the door open by the millimeter until she could see enough to tell she was in the Grotto of Tranquility with no one in sight, and that the suns had set. When she finally stepped out and closed the door, she saw she had come out of a tree, much like the faeries, though her actual first thought was of the entrance to the Pit of Despair in the Princess Bride, only in reverse. Her torture could await her here outside the “pit.” She’d taken three steps into the dark woods toward the castle, when the door behind her burst open, and she let out a squeal.

CHAPTER 16

“E VIE! WHAT DO YOU—” “Shh!” Daniel! Thank God! She pressed her hand firmly to her chest to keep her heart from jumping out. Daniel grabbed her arm and looked around, pulling her behind a tree. “What in hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, keeping his voice low. “Why didn’t you talk this over with me?” “I knew you’d try to stop me.” “Damn straight. Ev, this is crazy. You don’t know what’s happening out here. There could’ve been soldiers here waiting for you.” “You just blasted through the door. What about you?” “I can handle myself.” “So can I.” He made a face she didn’t particularly care for. “That’s why I came here,” she said. “I’m going to the castle for my bow.” “You’re going to take on Tralg’s army with your bow?” “And yours.” “You didn’t know I was coming.” “Of course, I did. You think I’m crazy?” He eyed her suspiciously, then nudged her aside. “Stay behind me. I see better in the dark than you do.”

She did, because it was true and in this covering of trees, anyone could be hiding. They walked quickly but quietly for a minute before sound reached her ears. Pops, like firecrackers. Then another sound, bigger, like an M80, though distant. She knew they weren’t fireworks, but much larger explosions. Through the trees, shafts of orange and yellow lit the horizon. She’d only seen war on the History Channel, but so far this had all the signs. Daniel reached back and stopped her. “You hear that?” “Explo—” “Shh.” He crouched, yanking her down beside him. Evangeline opened her eyes as wide as they would go, but still saw nothing. Daniel pointed up through the branches to something moving in the air above. It looked like ... a person. A faerie! “Scorpo!” Daniel called. The trees shuffled and down came a faerie. He was about up to her waist, but grew to her chin, with dark hair, green eyes, and a wide grin. The men embraced and stepped back. “I dinna see ya,” Scorpo said. Daniel smirked. “My camouflage.” Scorpo laughed. “This is Princess Evangeline,” Daniel said, gesturing to her. “This is Scorpo. The one responsible for my extraordinary fencing skills.” They laughed. Evangeline didn’t. She mumbled something about being nice to meet him and continued toward the fires. “Guess yer with us,” Scorpo said, shrinking as he rose into the air to be ed by a dozen other faeries, all armed and armored.

“You two’r not armed?” A faerie swooped down for a closer look. This one was small compared to Scorpo. “Take this.” He pulled a boktar—at least she thought that’s what it was—from a holster on his breastplate and dropped it to Daniel. “You there!” another called to Evangeline. He dropped a weapon to Daniel, and he handed it to her. “What is this?” she asked, turning it over. It looked like a two-foot, threepronged wooden fork with rope wrapped around the outer prongs. She aimed it at Daniel, who ducked. “Careful.” He pressed it down, facing the ground. “That thing is devastating.” “What’s it do?” she asked. The faeries flew ahead and Daniel took the weapon from her. “It’s called an otrie. You do this.” He thrust it quickly out in front of him and a red streak of light shot into a tree, leaving a hole. “You don’t have the same strength, so when you do it, it might feel like a punch. Try it.” She did, but nothing happened. “Harder. Thrust from your shoulder.” She did, but the beam fired into the ground before she got her arm all the way up. “I can’t do this.” “You’d better learn, fast.” “Give me that,” she said, reaching for the boktar. “Have you ever shot a gun? No,” he answered for her. “You haven’t.” “How do you know? I could have.” “You would have done it with me, and we didn’t.” “Well it’s not fair you can use everything and I can’t.”

“Next time you be the one to be sent to the faeries,” he said, and pushed her through the trees. “We’ll get your bow.” They remained silent as they walked, staying as close to the squadron—she didn’t know what they called themselves—of faeries as they could. When they reached the tree line and the path that led to the castle, they took more care, staying just out of sight behind the trees as they moved. At least they thought they were out of sight until a shot rang out and Daniel hit the dirt as a small explosion burst into the bark of the tree beside him. Evangeline jumped behind a tree. “Daniel!” “I’m good!” He returned fire in the general direction, but the faeries were already on it. The shooter groaned and fell backward, about twenty meters from Daniel and Evangeline. “Who is it? Are there more?” She didn’t know what kinds of weapons they had here, but for several seconds, her ears were filled with pops, buzzes, and short whistles. She knew that one to be the boktar. Daniel scuttled toward the man who had shot at him. He’d seen him at Apirno. One of Tralg’s men. And wearing the same uniform as the rest of the Royal Guard. “Crap!” “What? What is it?” Evangeline called from behind her tree. Daniel ran back to her. The shooting had stopped. “They’re still wearing their RG gear.” “That’s ... how will we tell them apart?” “Great question.”

A faerie landed behind them. “What’s it?” he asked in his peculiar faerie dialect. “They enemy’s wearing the same uniform as the good guys,” Daniel said. The faerie rubbed his fat fingers along his chin. “Well then, guess I’ll jes kill the one’s what try to kill me first,” he said, and took off. “Yo!” came a voice overhead. “Yo!” He pointed ahead, toward the hills. “What is it now?” Evangeline asked. “I don’t know,” Daniel said. “The prince!” Scorpo yelled down. “He and his men ae coming o’er the hill.” Ryor! Thank God! He hadn’t been captured or killed! He was alive and here to fight. Where he might be captured or killed! Evangeline started running in the direction that Scorpo pointed, but Daniel caught her and yanked her back. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Ryor’s out there!” “I know! And between us and him are probably hundreds of soldiers.” “How can Tralg have that many on his side?” “Ego is the same here as on Earth. The chance to rule with a crazy person is better to some than being a subject. Better to reign in hell than serve in Heaven.” “Do they really believe Tralg’ll let them rule anything?” Daniel shrugged and walked her forward, monitoring the faeries to gauge what was coming. “Scorpo!” Scorpo lifted his chin. “Can you get us into the castle? We need to get our weapons from the arena. “Sure thing. Looks like most of th’action’s at the palace.”

He gave a quick whistle and nodded toward the castle. The band changed direction. “The palace?” Oh no. What about Qeron? He had men, but ... oh! And the nipak! They had to tell Ryor what had happened the day his mother died! “We have to go there after I get my bow.” “Evie, I already think you’ve lost your mind, but if your husband learns I took you into the middle of the battle, I’ll lose my head.” “I have to, Daniel.” Daniel rolled his eyes, realizing she would not give up. He handed her the boktar showing her where to keep her finger when she wasn’t firing it, with specific instruction to only shoot at people she was positive were the enemy, and only if he wasn’t in the way. Just in case, he set it to stun. More explosions erupted further ahead, and she figured that must be about where Ryor was now, but she had to get her bow. The boktar was no more useful to her than a sword, but the bow was her weapon and the one made just for her became an extension of her when she held it. It surprised them to find the castle unguarded. People ran in every direction, but there were no visible RG. Still, she didn’t want anyone knowing she was there, and while the faeries stayed hidden behind the stables, she and Daniel slipped to the arena’s side door. Making it inside was as simple as opening the door, and Evangeline quickly found her bow and quiver of returning arrows right where she’d left them. She slipped the quiver over her shoulder and down her back, wrapped the arm strap of the bow around her left arm, and went back outside feeling much more confident. She gave Daniel back the boktar, which he slung over his shoulder. She’d recently learned to hold three arrows at a time, notching and firing one at a time in rapid succession. Thup, bang, thup, bang, thup, bang. It had become a musical tune to her ears, one she strived to get right each time. Catching each as it came back was a little trickier. She’d actually been pricked in the arm on one’s return, but with the speed so decelerated, it had only left a slight mark. “Come on,” Daniel said.

A random soldier ran across the courtyard toward them, weapon drawn. Before he opened his mouth to speak, Daniel had punched him in the chest, knocking him to his back. “Are you friend or foe?” Daniel growled. Stunned, the man took a moment. When he spoke, Daniel didn’t like his reply. “I know you, blue devil,” the man said. “Earth man.” He turned his head and spat on the ground beside him. “Evie, go.” She didn’t argue, but ran ahead, toward Qeron’s palace, the faeries watching from the tops of the trees. In a moment, Daniel caught up. He seemed somehow ... larger. More energized. “Purist snakes,” he growled—indeed, growled. “Daniel, it’s okay.” But it seemed once his temper was engaged it wasn’t a simple matter to turn it off. Perhaps under the circumstances she wouldn’t try. They drew closer to the fighting, the faeries finally engaging and soaring overhead toward the smoke and clash of bodies. Evangeline kept her head down as she ran. She didn’t look too closely. Didn’t want to see Ryor and be frozen with fear for him, and certainly didn’t want him to see her for the same reason. When then finally they came to the palace, they tucked themselves into bushes near the stairs, taking in the gruesome scene. There weren’t a lot of dead, but the ones who were there were.... Evangeline had never seen anything like it. Above the sounds of metal against metal, weapons firing, and men shouting, some groaning their last breaths, Evangeline heard her name called and turned her head. Shaol hunkered down against the side of the palace, waving her over with a sword. Without thinking, Evangeline ran to her.

“Shaol! What are you doing here?” “I’m trying to stay out of the way with my liver intact.” “Since when do you fight?” Evangeline asked. “I’ve been known to when need arises.” “Yeah ... well, looks like it’s here.” “Looks like.” At that moment, Daniel ran toward them, but just behind him, a soldier raised a boktar. Evangeline swiped an arrow from her back and let it fly, straight through the man’s neck. Before the bloody arrow returned to her hand, Daniel swung the otrie around and fired, blazing a hole completely through the man, armor and all. Evangeline thought she might scream, but was surprised to find the urge displaced by a feeling of confidence. There was fear, yes, but she really could handle herself. She dropped the arrow back in her quiver. “Let’s get out of here,” Daniel ordered, and led the women up the stairs into the palace. “Where is Tralg?” he asked Shaol. “I don’t know. He was here, then I ran.” Together they entered the palace, only to be flagged immediately by Walfar frantically gesturing for them to come. “This is a waste of time,” Daniel complained. “I should be fighting.” “You’re right,” Evangeline said. “I’ll take Shaol and go to the nipak. Walfar wants me.” Daniel shook his head. “No. No way. I’m not leaving you here alone.” “I’m not alone,” she said, gesturing to Shaol. He opened his mouth again to argue, but she talked over him. “Daniel, I need you to go help Ryor. Please.” “Ev, I—”

“Promise me. Daniel, you’re a tremendous fighter. He needs you out there with him,” she said, pointing to where the battle raged. “Promise me. Please.” Daniel shook his head, then paused, looking up at Shaol. “Can you fight?” She gave a curt nod. “Daniel....” Evangeline prompted. “Okay. I promise. Tralg loves to fight, so he’s probably in the battle, anyway.” He leaned into Shaol’s face. “Don’t let anything happen to her or I swear you’ll die.” Shaol’s eyes grew wide, and she nodded rapidly. When Daniel ran away, the women ran after Walfar, Evangeline light on her feet, Shaol lumbering clumsily after. Before turning down the hall, Evangeline notched an arrow and held the bow up in front of her, letting it fall away when she found the way clear. No one was in sight. No civilians and thankfully no soldiers. She did the same, entering the nipak keep. “Here!” Walfar whispered loudly. “Over here.” He darted into his strange little back room, coming out with a cage containing Petran and another bird. “This is Tizula. She is a suitable mate for Petran,” Walfar said, his face showing the first excitement Evangeline had seen. “Can I ask them Ryor’s question?” He nodded, setting the cage in front of her. “Petran. Show me what happened to Ryor’s mother,” she said. Petran stared at her, Tizula preened her feathers as though Evangeline hadn’t spoken. “Please.”

Same result. “There is another way to ask the question,” Walfar said. Evangeline tapped her foot. “If you’ll forgive me, I asked and was shown,” he said sheepishly, then looked at the birds. “Petran show me how the queen died.” To her amazement, Petran gave a nod. In an instant, he pressed his head to Tizula’s. Her eyes flashed and changed the same as Evangeline had seen when the bird showed the ammunition theft, flipping and changing, recovering every scene Petran ed. There was Linda, looking just like the pictures her mother had treasured all these years, as seen from about twenty feet away, and from a height. Maybe that of a tree branch. She really was a beautiful woman, with her light hair flowing over her shoulders, twisted back from her temples the same way Evangeline’s mother had taught her. It was a lovely day. Suns shining in a blue sky as she rode her ormor at a leisurely pace somewhere near the portal. There was no sound, but she seemed to talk with a man on another ormor. He turned his head. Tralg. Younger, but no less severe. His lips moved as Linda suddenly seemed to tense. Then she snapped her head in his direction, right before he.... “He pulled her....” Evangeline said. Tralg pulled her off the ormor so quickly she hadn’t had time to tighten her grip on the reins. The ormor turned to the right, stepping around, over, away from her, never coming in . Linda got to her feet, dropping the handmade crown she carried, and tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. Tralg caught her in two strides and knocked her to the ground with a fist to her face. Evangeline gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh God.”

In the bird’s view, she watched Tralg settle his enormous weight on her chest, pick up a rock just in reach, and bash Linda’s skull five or six times, blood spattering. It may have been more, but Evangeline turned her face away, fearing she would be sick. She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. Shaol, too, was shocked and looked completely confused. “We were told the ormor.... I didn’t believe it, but ... to see it now. How it really happened....” “And because he knew the nipak had all seen, what better way to cover his tracks than to tell my uncle to claim they had a virus and kill them?” Walfar said. “At least their mates,” added a voice from the open wall leading outside. Tralg. With a large, imposing weapon aimed their way. Evangeline’s arm twitched as she moved to raise her bow, but Tralg turned the weapon on her. “Relieve her of her bow,” Tralg ordered, gesturing to Shaol with his weapon. Shaol lowered her head and did as she was told, unlashing the bow from Evangeline and slipping the bowstring over her own arm to the shoulder. Evangeline wanted to believe she was afraid of Tralg shooting her, but she didn’t think so. She had a feeling. “You’re with ... him?” “I’m ... sorry,” Shaol whispered. “You.... But ... you loved Linda. She was your friend.” “Good work,” Tralg told Shaol. “Gran will be proud.” Evangeline couldn’t believe it. She looked at her closely, as if to do so would help her make sense of what was happening. “Really?” Shaol turned her face away, refusing to meet her gaze. “She’s Voren, princess.” Tralg saturated the last word in pure venom. “That means her loyalty is to Voren. To her people by blood.”

“You know nothing about loyalty,” Walfar said. “You killed my uncle, didn’t you?” “Yes. When you see him, give him my regards.” With that, Tralg shot Walfar, crumpling him to the floor. Evangeline screamed. She saw no damage to him outside, but Deri had told her that that weapon incinerated internal organs. He was definitely dead. Next Tralg shot the two birds. Evangeline closed her eyes tightly. She should not have come here. “So now you know what I did to the queen, but it doesn’t matter now. And I’ll show you why. Shaol, bind her hands behind her back.” Shaol didn’t have rope, so pulled the hair tie from her own hair and did as Tralg said, Evangeline seething. “You’re no hero, you know,” Evangeline told her. “This blood thing is a bunch of nonsense and I think you know it. You’re a traitor.” “Shall I have her gag you as well?” Tralg asked. He took her by the arm and yanked her into the hallway and up the stairs toward the throne room. “You’re scum, you know that? Useless. Worthless,” she said. “That’s why Linda called you douchebag. She knew it.” “I’ll that when I’m killing you,” he returned. Evangeline’s jaw and neck tightened. She did not want to die. Why hadn’t she stayed at the Prayer House? Instead, she was sure to be killed and hadn’t even had a chance to defend Voren. And who knew what was happening with Ryor and Daniel? Tralg forced her into the throne room, usually vacant but for soldiers lounging on their apartment balconies, facing an empty throne. It was not empty tonight.

Evangeline’s heart leapt to her throat. To the left, nine or ten soldiers hung by their necks from balconies. Bile rose to her throat and she turned away, toward the throne. There she found Qeron, tied to it, arms behind him, head dropped to his chest. Was he dead? Oh God! Her legs suddenly weak, she almost collapsed to the floor, the air in her chest now more enemy than friend. She pushed it out in a rush and sucked more in. “King Qeron!” Tralg called out. “I’ve brought your son’s Earth wife. Lovely creature,” he said, using his index finger to turn her face to his even as she tried to turn away. He moved her forward until she was close enough to see Qeron’s hair matted with blood, as was the left side of his body. A coagulating puddle of blood on the seat trailed to the edge and had dripped onto the floor, and onto what looked like ... Frey ... his suit of armor squashed and mangled, and one hairy leg sticking out. Evangeline gasped silently. “Qeron. Don’t tell me you went and died on me without my permission,” Tralg said, feigning annoyance. Qeron didn’t move. Evangeline wept, tears of horror rolling down her face unobstructed. “Qeron,” she whispered. Tralg released her. “You’ll have to talk louder than that,” he said, moving toward the king and stepping onto the ancient riser. “I don’t think he can hear you in the afterworld.” When he was several feet away, Shaol bumped Evangeline hard to the right, pulling her hair tie free of her wrists and tossing her the bow in one swift movement. Tralg turned, but by then the arrow was on its way. It stuck in his left arm, just missing his heart. Damn! Evangeline let another fly, but this time it hit his leg, causing him to fall to his knees. An arrow was no match for that weapon in his hands and Evangeline ran as fast as she could as Tralg fired, the shot scorching the wall just beside her. With one

last mad leap, she turned a corner and ran for her life.

CHAPTER 17

RYOR THREW HIS WEAPON to the ground, useless. Out of shots. It was hand to hand from here on until he could secure another. Overhead, faeries took control of the soldiers hiding further up the hillside. Wings and agility were valuable assets in war, and though the enemy was trained the same as all Royal Guard, they were completely ill-prepared for faeries. Perhaps Tralg’s intense disgust for all creatures other than human Innovia had veiled the memory of the treaty between Faerie King Novus and Ryor’s grandfather, Qerceron, to help the Realm in whatever wars they saw necessary. He was grateful for such allies as he watched RG traitors float up and away, under the effect of faerie dust. Those who could not grab onto something until it wore off would find their entrails littering the countryside. “Ryor!” Daniel climbed up beside him on the rocky outcropping on the cliffs behind the palace. “What are you doing here?” Ryor demanded. “You’re supposed to be watching Evangeline.” “She’s here with me.” “Here?” Ryor’s heart caught in his chest as he looked behind Daniel. “Not here, here. She took off from—” Ryor grabbed Daniel’s shirtfront. “What do you mean?” Daniel forced his hand off him. “She took off from the Prayer House through the secret age. By the time I caught up to her she was already in the woods over there,” he said, pointing. “Then the faeries showed up, and she went to the castle to get her bow.”

Ryor ground his teeth. “Where is she now?” “I left her at the palace. She was with Shaol.” “You let her go?!” “Yeah, I let her. She wasn’t alone, and she’s been train—” His words cut off when Ryor’s forearm crossed his throat. “We have to find her. And if she is harmed, you will die.” “I didn’t want to leave her. She made me promise to come help you.” “Do you think I want to live if she dies?” Ryor released Daniel and groaned, tipping his head heavenward. “The sooner we kill these assholes, the sooner we’ll get to her,” Daniel said, pushing to his feet. Ryor grabbed his arm. “No! We’re going to find her.” Whatever the harbori poison had done to him, and the added Apirno torture, Daniel had kicked into full fight mode, body tensed, eyes focused on death and destruction. He was much better than he had been before the faeries had “fixed” him, but his need for justice—obviously a part of his normal Earth makeup— was amplified and might always be. “Daniel. Evangeline needs you more than these traitors need to die. Come with me. Now.” He watched Daniel’s face slowly change from the hyped animation of the adrenaline-charged warrior, to a more composed version of himself, this one more rational. Finally, Daniel nodded and clamped his hand over Ryor’s shoulder. “You’re right. Yeah. Let’s go.” “Give me your boktar,” Ryor said. Daniel handed it over. “I like this thing better anyway,” he said, holding up the

otrie. Ryor made sure to set it to kill and led the way down a narrow footpath back toward the palace. Just then, a man jumped from the shadows and onto Ryor’s back. A second later, he was on the ground with a hole in his stomach. Ryor looked at Daniel, who grinned. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” Ryor asked. “Yeah. I don’t know why.” “Thank you.” Daniel shrugged and followed him. They saw no one else on the way, but Gard flying overhead in his ship, blasting as he went. Judging from the shots, Tralg’s men hadn’t been far behind. They found the palace quiet, and that silence dispatched a prickle along his spine. “Where is everyone?” he asked himself. “Where are the nipak?” Daniel asked. “That bird guy waved her inside.” Ryor shot him a look and took off toward the right, running at full speed by the time he reached the nipak keep. “Oh, Yeshua.” Ryor stood in the entry, Daniel nearly slamming into his back. Inside, Walfar lay dead. Several birds, too. “Oh, Yeshua,” Ryor repeated. “Evie!” Daniel called. “Evie! Where are you?” They searched the room quickly, even the outdoor part, then Ryor took off, Daniel again at his heels. They ran to the left, then upstairs and to the right, toward the center of the building. The throne room. Ryor’s feet stopped him in the grand entry. His mind raced on ahead, but his feet would not allow him to move. There was someone on the throne. Tied. He saw

the rope, beige but spotted dark brown in areas. He recognized the clothing. All air left him on his next two words. “Please ... no.” Daniel stepped forward slowly, checking the area for the enemy. “What the...?” he asked, spying the hanging soldiers. Ryor slid a glance over, but dead soldiers were of no interest compared to the man before him. His feet moved at last, weighted. As if they already knew what his heart had yet to face. Inch by inch he drew closer to the throne, and the realization that the world as he’d known it had ended. His father was dead. And all he could do was stare down at him. He could offer no aid, speak no prayer that would bring him back. Daniel stepped up, mumbling some form of regret and comforting words, and pressing his fingers to Qeron’s neck. There was that slight spark of hope in Ryor that he would find a pulse, but the amount of blood would not allow that spark to ignite. Daniel’s words confirmed the worst. “Damn, Ryor, I’m so sorry.” Ryor couldn’t answer if he’d wanted to. His mind had fled, to a region where suns shone all day and his father had taught him to hunt. There was sparkling water and long grass that smelled of the carefree hours of morning and the promise of a glorious day ahead. And his father was there, laughing. Daniel placed a hand on Ryor’s back, causing him to flinch as his mind snapped back into place. He raised a hand in defense before seeing Daniel. “Easy, Ryor.” Ryor shook his head. “It’s ... let’s go,” Daniel said. With a last look at his father, Ryor glanced at the floor of the riser and the of metal and blood that had been Frey. Was the heartache not to end? But ... something wasn’t right. Ryor picked at the metal, peeling it from the wooden planks. Frey’s unsheathed harbori fell, landing with a click.

“Looking for me?” Frey asked, puffing, squeezing his pale green form from the wood of the riser several feet away. Ryor couldn’t believe his eyes. “Frey. You’re....” He looked back at the armor. “I popped myself out of my armor and into the crack just before Tralg’s foot sent me to the great halls of my fathers. Lost an arm.” He jiggled the remaining nub. “But it’ll grow back.” He turned to look behind him as best he could. “There’s a mouse down there. Without my weapons, I had no choice but to run.” Frey recovered his harbori from his squashed armor and jumped to Ryor’s arm. He glanced at Qeron, then closed all his eyes, taking in a breath. Ryor nodded vaguely, turning his eyes, but not his face, toward his father before rising to his full height. “We need to find Evangeline.” “The princess? Why is she here?” Frey asked, alarmed. Ryor glared at Daniel. Frey didn’t respond to that, but pointed to a spot on the floor. Blood. “Someone else was hurt here,” he said, pointing out the fresh blood trail. “They went that way,” Daniel said. “And....” He stooped to pick up one of Evangeline’s arrows. “She hit him. It was in flesh, or would have returned to her.” “Your hearing is better than mine,” Ryor said. “Do you hear anything?” Daniel closed his eyes, tuning into any sound. After a moment, he opened them. “The battle outside, that’s all.” Ryor strode toward his father’s offices. There were monitoring systems in there. Perhaps they were still working. The main office looked as though a bomb had detonated, with furniture overturned, books, papers and maps covering practically every inch of floor. And blood drops. Here was where it had started, Ryor reasoned. His father had been in here and taken unaware. There was a blood smear on the inside of the door.

There had to be a word for what he was feeling. Rage couldn’t come close. Fear.... He wouldn’t consider that. Finding Evangeline was the goal and fear was too blinding. For now, rage—or whatever it was—would guide him. He went to the outer office where the monitors were kept. They were all knocked over, either hanging off the tables or smashed on the floor. One was lit, and Ryor went to it, setting it back on the tabletop and resetting it. It could show almost any area in the palace with the push of a button. They scanned every screen that came up, several times before noting something of interest. In the doorway of one of the common lounges lay a large woman, hands cupped on the back of her head, only her shoulders moving. Was she crying? “Is that Shaol?” Daniel asked, pointing. Ryor ran to the lounge as fast as his long legs would take him, Daniel keeping up, Frey clinging for life. When they arrived, they found Shaol sobbing on the floor. “Get up,” Ryor ordered. Surprised, she immediately complied, tears and snot running down her face, her eyes filled with untold sorrows and great fear. “Your Highness.” Ryor’s gut tightened. He was only to be addressed as such if he was in charge, which only happened if his father, the king, was dead. “What do you know of my father’s death?” She sobbed again and sank to the floor, this time to her bottom. He grabbed her by the front of her top and gave her a shake. “You will tell me.” “Tralg,” she said. “He....” “Where is my wife? Where is Evangeline?” Shaol shook her head. “I don’t know! He was chasing her. I gave her back her bow and she shot him, but ... he was chasing her. It’s all my fault. I betrayed her ... and my king.”

“Which way?” “They were in the throne room and.... It’s all my fault.” With that, she collapsed again into fits of crying. Ryor heard the word betrayed but moved on. He would find out what had happened and deal with her, but not now. The palace was huge. There was no telling where Evangeline was, or even if she was still in the building. He was closer to the nipak than the office, so he went there, stepping over Walfar’s corpse to address the birds themselves. “Who knows where Evangeline is?” None of those present responded. “The Princess.” That drew some interest. “Where is the princess right now?” The birds stirred, shook and squawked, flitting and strutting in every direction, those in cages as far as their confines would allow. He’d never tried reasoning with nipak before, but he was desperate. “This is life and death. I don’t know which of you are mated, but I need you to tell me where the princess is.” Several couples stepped forward, heads bowed together, eyes flipping. And he saw Evangeline, at the moment, running past a window, hair flying out behind her, eyes terrified. A few seconds later, Tralg ed, moving quickly, though limping. Ryor’s fists clenched. Where was she? There were hundreds of windows. “Yeshua, please.” “That could be anywhere,” Daniel said. “We need a better clue.” A full minute ed before the nipak showed another image, this one chilling Ryor’s blood. Tralg had her by the back of the neck, Evangeline wincing and talking to him, but the nipak had flown past, so that was that. Though Ryor had

seen something in the background—a small stained-glass window with a dove sitting in an olive tree. He turned and ran from the room. “You know where she is?” Daniel asked. “The porch nearest the hover bay. It’s where we keep Innovia riders. Tralg might plan to take her to his estate.” “He could take her anywhere,” Frey said. Ryor didn’t think so. Air surrounded Tralg’s estate. It was easier to protect than to risk a ground escape with an uncooperative female. Especially Evangeline. “He’ll take her home,” he said, shooting his eyes to the floating mansion. “If we follow, he’ll shoot us from the sky. If we shoot back, we risk killing your bride.” True. He had to wait until she landed at the estate. It was counter-intuitive, but necessary. “We need to kill him now, before he gets off the ground,” Daniel said. “I won’t miss.” He raised the otrie, waiting for their agreement. “No. Frey is right. We can’t fly off emotion.” He felt like such a hypocrite saying that. Emotion ruled most of his being right now, with reason shoved to a darkened corner of his brain. “We can’t let him take her up there! Who knows what he’ll do when he gets her alone!” By the time the men—and arachnid—made it to the bay, Tralg’s glider was already several hundred feet off the ground. Daniel aimed, ready to cock his arm back, but Ryor slapped the end of the weapon to the ground. “It’ll never reach that far,” Ryor said. “Come.”

They boarded two riders, Daniel on one, Ryor and Frey on the other. “Daniel, don’t you dare do anything stupid. Stay with us.” Daniel reluctantly agreed.

CHAPTER 18

TRALG LANDED THE RIDER on the pad at the back of a huge house and unhooked Evangeline’s hands from the brackets on the side. He’d caught her while trying to climb out a palace window, and after striking her in the temple and knocking her to her knees, bound her again, this time using one of his leather bootlaces. She’d never felt a blow with that much force in her life and imagined it must be what a mule kick felt like. Why he hadn’t just killed her was cause for concern. He was ruthless and had no conscience. So why bring her here? There was only one reason she could think of. He pulled her by the tie on her hands and led her inside to a room of glass windows and a long gray couch, which he flung her onto. Then, to her surprise, he untied her hands. Her heart threatened to blast from her chest when he hovered over her. “I hope you enjoy your short time as the Queen of Innovia,” he said, staring down at her with pure contempt. “Varryal!” he screamed. As if out of thin air, a beautiful woman with a stream of blue hair ran into the room. “Yes, Tralg?” “Medical kit. Now!” She ran back out just as quickly. “You should also enjoy this,” he said, showing her his leg, blood till oozing and spreading down the fabric of his pants. “This may be the worst I’ve been hurt in battle.” Evangeline turned away from the bloody mess. “You should be proud.” He paused, watching her. “Like father, like daughter.”

When her head snapped up, her eyes widened, and so did his grin. “It took me a while to realize who it was you remind me of.” He pressed his fingertips to his chest. “Me. It was the eye color that threw me. Mine are hazel and your mothers were dark if I .” “My mother?” What?! “Catherine? Was that her name?” No. It was Catrina. But she wouldn’t tell him that. “We had a ... time. Yes, we did.” Evangeline thought she might be sick. “It lasted only a few minutes, but she was better than I’d expected,” he said. “I telling her that was what happened when females wandered into the woods alone. Stupid girls don’t know better. Like that girl who works at the palace. What’s her name? Rissa? I told her, too. Many others, in fact.” He flipped a careless hand. “Anyway, after meeting you and putting together you are the daughter of Linda’s friend, well, it makes sense.” She closed her eyes tightly and turned her head. He’d raped her mother. And had impregnated her. So much made sense now. Why her mother never mentioned her father. Why she was so afraid of her being taken. He was Evangeline’s.... She couldn’t even think the word. And Rissa? Good Lord! Varryal rushed back in with a white box. “Where is the wound?” Tralg took the box and turned to Evangeline. “It may interest you to know Varryal was one of Ryor’s mistresses.” He watched her carefully for reaction. She wouldn’t give him one. “This estate is five thousand feet in the air. Don’t bother trying to escape.” “So ... new in town?” Varryal asked with a snigger when Tralg left the room. When Evangeline didn’t answer, the woman sat on the other end of the couch. “I don’t know what Ryor sees in you.” She shrugged. “I don’t get it. I told him not

to marry you, that he wasn’t ready, but....” Evangeline tried to ignore her. She giggled and Evangeline thought she heard a purr in her throat. She suddenly wanted to scratch her eyes out. Instead, she swiped at her own face to catch a rogue tear that had escaped. Varryal studied her for a moment, then tapped her long nails on the arm of the couch. “You know he’ll be back in my arms once he’s bored with you, right?” What? Did this woman really have no clue what was happening down there? “Once Tralg straightens things out with King Qeron, you’ll be home soon enough, but you won’t have Ryor long.” “I won’t be around that long,” she whispered. Tralg would eventually kill her. Knowing he was her father would prevent him from raping her, she hoped—most sickos had boundaries when it came to children. Probably even here in this world—but that meant his only reason for keeping her was to hurt Ryor somehow, and when he finished doing that, she would be of no use. She wouldn’t beg for her life by telling Tralg she was pregnant. That would definitely have the opposite effect. He need never know. And neither would Ryor. When she died, it would be just her. None of the extra pain of losing a child as well. She only hoped the faeries and Torin would keep quiet. “You’re not very talkative,” Varryal complained. A few minutes later, Tralg came back looking refreshed, barely limping. He signaled Varryal to go. “Your husband isn’t here yet. Maybe he’s given up the fight. Losing his kingdom will be the hardest blow and having faced that, I doubt he would come to rescue you. But that blue Earth might.” He poured himself a drink from a bottle on a side counter and stood looking out the wall of windows into the black night. “You know, it feels good, it really does, finally being able to take credit for

killing the queen. I thought it a brilliant move and I could never glory openly in it. Now I can give the rest of the Purists the full story without worrying it will fall on the wrong ears. My ears are now the most powerful in all of Innovia.” He laughed and sipped while Evangeline’s stomach churned. “What do your Purist friends think of you having sex with an Earth woman? Contributing to the half-breed population?” He turned to her slowly, menacingly. “They don’t know who I screw, nor do they care. But make no mistake, daughter, what I did to your mother was not about sex. It was a violation. A show of force, nothing more.” She really thought she would vomit any moment. Her face was heated, her mouth beginning to water. She could only imagine her coloring looked as sickly as she felt, because Tralg suddenly grabbed her by the arm and ushered her outside. “You will not vomit in my house,” he said. Evangeline sat on one of several steps leading to a lower deck, and drew in a long breath through her nose, releasing it through her mouth. Though the wind up here was constant, it wasn’t as cold as she’d expected. And there was the faintest hint of smoke. “Why did you kill Linda?” she asked. “Just because she was an Earth woman?” “That was the primary factor, but not the only,” he answered. “I had no problem with Qeron as king. Even considering his relaxed stance on half-breeds and nonVorens. We were friends. Once.” “You? Friends?” “Hard to believe, I know, but he used to be ambitious and ruthless, like his father, Qerceron, and his before him. That woman changed him. Made him soft. Content. He no longer strove for absolute control of the nations, but was happy with his useless title. King of Innovia,” he mocked. “King only because others allowed it. That’s not rule, that’s an election. A mockery.” He paced from one end of the deck to the other and back. “Linda had no respect

for the crown either. She made one from bits of roots and was going to give it to her friend. A joke. I buried it in the woods. The crown is a sacred....” He raised his hands, halting his own digression. “Qeron said things were fine as they were. The provinces were secure, and wasn’t that enough? And even that I accepted. I thought he would come around, and if not, then we could eventually see about expanding into your planet.” What?! “Earth’s military would—” “Burn to ash!” Tralg shouted. “They’ve seen nothing like our world, and we could have ruled.” Again, he paced. “So, I became involved with Cri’ar. At first, I thought presenting them as a real threat would wake him up to the necessity of raw power. It didn’t. We’d been fighting them for millennia, and he didn’t believe their assaults had intensified. So, I used Cri’ar for other means.” He came to stand beside her. Her spine tingled with revulsion. “With the help of our scientists, I decided to let Cri’ar do the work of invading Earth and then Innovia would take over Cri’ar and Earth both. Who would refuse that? Absolute power of not one, but three worlds!” He looked at her like he genuinely expected her to take his side. He was crazy. Power hungry and crazy. He resumed his feral pacing. “But ... curse his hard head, I was forced to do it myself, so I trained my own army.” He turned to her then. “It would have been nice to add Daniel to my roster, but it wasn’t to be. He’s is quite a remarkable being, is he not? I had him brought to the edge of death numerous times, and he always came back. But we could not find the secret to his recuperative powers.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe I’ll keep him alive a while for more experimentation.” Evangeline didn’t know how much more of this blowhard’s bragging and incessant rambling she could take. If this were a suspense novel, this was the page she would come to grips with the realization that she was going to die anyway, and had nothing to lose. Then she would make a futile attempt to take the villain out, even knowing it wouldn’t work. She would at least die knowing she had tried. Maybe with some flowery last words that would drift into the atmosphere. Fade to black. End scene. She couldn’t regret not telling Ryor about the baby. Her death would be so much

worse if he knew she’d taken their child with her. She rubbed a hand over her stomach, reassuring the child God had given her that everything would be all right. Maybe he or she wouldn’t get to live here as a prince or princess, but they would have a different kind of life, maybe going back to the to be born line since they hadn’t been yet, or straight to Heaven. She didn’t know. Behind her, Tralg marched back and forth. To the left, a servant unrolled a mat by the door and hurried back inside. So, he still had servants here, but secure that his tyrannical coup would succeed, it appeared all of his forces were on Voren’s surface. Evangeline lifted her eyes and prayed under her breath. “Father, You didn’t bring me here just to watch the death of those I love. And You didn’t teach me to be brave without expecting me to be brave. I’m winging it here, but help me.” Just then Tralg walked to the edge of the estate, looking over the four-foot stone wall. It was ridiculous that a home this high had such a short barrier between its inhabitants and the ground. “Ha! Here is your husband now.” Evangeline got up and ran to the wall just as Ryor and Daniel rose on riders. “Ryor!” Tralg grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. “Not so fast, Your Highness. You wouldn’t want to fall off, would you?” He looked down at her. “Hmm. You seem the adventurous type. Maybe you would.” With that, he lifted her with one hand and tried putting her over the edge, but she clamped onto his clothes with her hands and scrambled to keep her legs on the right side of the wall, hooking her feet. “Tralg, no!” Ryor yelled. Tralg set her back down beside him and laughed. “This is why I didn’t shoot you out of the sky, Ryor. I’ve been waiting for you. I want to hear you beg me to save the life of this half-blood.” He looked down at her. “Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that before. You’re both half-bloods. Too bad two halves don’t make a whole.” Daniel let the craft hover as he got to one knee, preparing to leap to the deck.

“She’ll be dead before you are midway,” Tralg warned. Another rider came up, this one carrying Gard. “And the audience grows.” Tralg lifted her once again, but this time didn’t hoist her over the edge. This time he took a knife from his side sheath and pressed it to her neck until the tip drew blood. “Fragile creatures, Earths. They can die from the smallest things.” “Tralg, let her go,” Ryor said. “Please. I’ll come over there, let her go. Let her get on my rider and you can do whatever you want with me.” Meeting Ryor’s tortured eyes, Evangeline wept. “I love you, Ryor!” Tralg gave her a shove. “You too, Daniel!” “Now that’s romantic,” Tralg said, amused. He moved the knife a little, this time pressing it right under her ear. Though he didn’t draw blood, Evangeline squealed. “One more word and I’ll slit your throat.” He grinned at his audience. “Know that this is all for the best. Qeron’s death ... your death, will relieve the people of Voren and the world. They’ll know what happened to their king. And who is responsible. That a half-blood Earth would have caused policies to change, acceptances to be made, endangering all true Innovians. Do you think knowing the truth, they would follow a man who let such things happen? Who caroused with faeries and Sasquatch, who let their safety be stripped away? Their homes burned? Daughters taken? Men murdered?” “You’re insane, you know that?” Daniel asked. “Like, full-throttle, no brakes, certifiably crazy.” “Daniel,” Ryor snapped, then addressed Tralg. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” Daniel swallowed. “You can have me, too.” Tralg laughed. “What would I do with a set of half-blood and Earth failures? Use you as slaves?” “Whatever you want!” Daniel said. “Just tell us what you want us to do and

we’ll do it.” “Well, that’s very generous of you. But the only thing I want right now is to watch your faces when I drop her to her death.” He lifted Evangeline higher in the air. So high that her feet couldn’t catch the wall to keep herself on solid ground. This was it. She would not be spared this time. She glanced down at the fires glowing through the darkness below, then sent Ryor one last look, memorizing his face to carry with her into the afterlife, and closed her eyes tight. “You have a foul mind and a black heart, Tralg of Voren,” came a voice from behind them. Evangeline opened her eyes, and Tralg turned to find Caprion standing on a faerie air glider a few feet away. She couldn’t believe her eyes. But in that same moment, Frey—not in his armor, but it was him—jumped from Ryor onto Tralg’s collar, plunging his harbori into his throat. Seeing her opportunity, she slapped Tralg’s knife hand into his own face. He cried out and dropped her to the stone, where she kicked his already wounded leg with a sickening crunch, pushing him at the same time so that he fell over the wall. But quick and large as he was, he grabbed her shoulder and pulled her over with him. Her stomach flipped as well, expecting in the next instant to be free falling. But Caprion was there, grabbing her by the arm, trying to pull her back. Tralg’s weight fastened onto her ankle was tremendous, and Caprion’s grip was faltering. Ryor was suddenly there as well, wrapping his hands around her waist as Daniel jumped the rail to help pull. Gard flew over, and as Tralg scrambled to grab the rider for , Gard sliced off the hand on Evangeline’s ankle. Tralg fell with a scream, his hand falling after. The men hoisted Evangeline back over the rail, and Ryor gathered her in his arms, holding her so tightly she had to tap his back for release.

“Evangeline. You’re all right.” Ryor hugged her quickly again, then released her to check her over. “You are all right, yes?” She honestly didn’t know. She was alive, and thrilled to be in her husband’s arms, but was she okay? Absently, she rubbed the bump near her temple. “Yes, I see,” he said, and kissed the spot. “It’s bruised.” He paused, looking down at her for a long moment before gathering her close once again and resting his chin on her head. “Evangeline.” She loved the way he said her name. Even when she’d hated him, she’d loved it. She closed her eyes and just let herself be held and comforted. It took a few minutes for her to realize she was crying. At once a cloud of flying faeries converged on the estate, landing on the deck or hovering nearby. When the door opened and Varryal came outside, they aimed all weapons at her. She fell to her knees in shock. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” “Hold!” Ryor commanded. She got up and ran to Ryor and Evangeline, falling again, this time clasping their feet and sobbing. “My princess! My prince! I’m begging for your mercy! Don’t kill me. I didn’t know what Tralg was going to do!” She looked up into Evangeline’s face. “Please. I was being a bitch. Jealous, that’s all. I didn’t think Tralg would really hurt you. I mean, I heard what he said, but I never thought.... Then I saw him from the window! Please, spare me!” Evangeline felt a little bad, but not bad enough. She’d nearly died, and Ryor’s father had! At the hands of the same man. Her father. She needed to comfort her husband as much as she needed comforting, and was in no mood for this right now. She stepped out of Varryal’s reach. Ryor gave a head gesture for Gard to remove her. She cried, but didn’t fuss. “Go inside and gather everyone,” he told Daniel and Gard. “If anyone so much as sneers at you, kill them. Then return to my father’s palace. Don’t let anyone

in. And see that communications are restored.” “I’ll go with them,” Frey said, and jumped to Daniel’s shoulder. Daniel grabbed Evangeline for a quick hug, kissing her cheek before going.

CHAPTER 19

RYOR TURNED TO CAPRION . He was a strange man who seemed to go out of his way to be puzzling, but whatever strangeness the man held, he also held comion and courage. And without him, Evangeline might not be here right now. Ryor held his hand out to him and they exchanged arm grips. “I can’t thank you enough.” Caprion inclined his head. “I have to say, you are the last person I expected to show up.” “I wouldn’t have ordinarily, but I had my reasons. We must speak.” Caprion turned, ushering them to his glider. “Would you?” Ryor and Evangeline boarded the transparent glider. There were no visible controls and Caprion didn’t seem to do anything that would direct the ship, yet it moved effortlessly through the air. Below, smoke billowed from many targets, clouding the pathway up here. Ryor could only guess at the devastation. Judging from the things Tralg had hinted at, it was massive, the victims many. Including his father. He closed his eyes against the pain, then, feeling warm palms pressed to his cheeks, he looked into Evangeline’s bruised, dirt-smeared face, her eyes so sad it nearly broke his heart all over again. He sat on the single bench and pulled her into his lap. She curled into his chest. “One stop first,” Caprion said. The ship moved down slowly, and Evangeline kept her face pressed to Ryor’s neck as he rubbed her back, looking over as the craft hovered beside the black and red scrambled remains of Tralg. A moment later, they continued on to the palace.

Surprised, but pleased to find some of his men already returned and waiting at the gate, Ryor gave them a nod as he ed, carrying Evangeline into the building, with Caprion at his side. Servants came from every corner, asking what they could do. His only request was to have his father moved and cleaned. His only other goal right now was getting Evangeline to her rooms where she could bathe and rest. Rissa took the initiative, walking with them until they reached the room Evangeline stayed in when she came here. Then she wrapped an arm around Evangeline’s waist and walked her into the refreshing room, leaving Ryor and Caprion outside. “She is strong,” Caprion said, looking at the closed door. “She’ll be a fine queen.” At the word queen, Ryor ed his father. Dead. A ball of emotion lodged in his throat and he suddenly wanted to cry, though he dared not, especially in front of Caprion. “I have news,” Caprion said, quietly. “Can we speak?” Ryor sniffed and showed him into his suite of rooms. Caprion looked around the generously appointed room and smiled. “No excess, I see. Just function. I lean toward excess. I don’t know why.” Ryor took in the man’s golden jacket, his light green pants and black, highly polished boots. Tasteful and elegant, but not at all unconventional for a man of his noted wealth. The brilliant orange Humming stone on a chain around his neck, however, was probably worth half as much as this palace. Excessive, yes. “You have news,” Ryor reminded him, taking a chair by the fireplace and directing him to the other. “I don’t interfere in the operation of governments,” Caprion said definitely. “Yet you did.” Caprion’s half smile preceded his shrug. “As I said, I had my reasons. And I haven’t quite figured out how I feel about it, so I understand if you are shaken as

well.” Ryor didn’t care for this ominous tone, but after what he’d been through so far today.... “Jabber and those in council came to see me. They said it was imperative I know the truth. Today.” He reached into his inner jacket pocket, removed a tan stained envelope and handed it to Ryor. “It’s from your mother.” Ryor’s heart banged once hard against his ribs. “What?” Caprion’s only reply was a lift of his chin. Ryor opened the envelope, unfolded the letter and read. Hi Catrina! I’m leaving shortly for our secluded rendezvous, haha. I’m just writing this in case you don’t show. In that case, I don’t know if this letter will find you, but I addressed the envelope—as you can see—and hopefully a kind hiker will come across it and get it to you. I have news and you just have to know! You’re the first to know, actually—other than myself—that I’m pregnant again. At least, I’m pretty sure. I’m praying I am. Ryor should have a brother or sister to watch over. He’s already quite commanding and I think it would do him a world of good to have a sibling who won’t bend to his every whim. He’s already got the staff wrapped around his little finger. Anyway, I know you’re having a hard time understanding why I won’t come back with you, but please believe when I tell you I am truly happy. Deliriously so. Home is where the heart is, Cat, and mine is here with Qeron and Ryor and our growing family. Every time I see you, I don’t know if it’s our last time, so as I always say, know that I love you. God bless, my friend. Love, Linda. Ryor glanced up, then reread the letter again. When he finished, his mind couldn’t form his questions into words. His mother. She spoke of him. She loved him. And her husband. Tears flowed freely now. No matter he cried like a child in front of another grown man, it couldn’t be helped.

Caprion cleared his throat after a minute, tapping his ringed hand on the chair arm. “The faeries found that letter buried along with a crown of vines and flowers. After they found your mother. Our mother.” Ryor’s eyes flashed to his. “I was told that the truth would be hard to believe. Although, knowing the faeries as I have come to, I know it’s true. I am the child our mother carried.” “What are you saying?” “I think it’s pretty plain.” “Are you saying the faeries somehow ... saved you? That you’re my brother?” “Yes.” Ryor got up and walked away, but realizing he had nowhere to go, sat back down. Besides, he needed the truth, and like it or not, he had a feeling he was hearing it. The faeries.... “How? I mean....?” He opened his palms. “They came across her after her death. She was alone for a short time while her murderer was in the woods burying that,” he indicated the letter, “and the crown. They saw she was pregnant and removed me before he returned.” He shook his head. “Faerie magic goes far deeper than our kind can know.” “So you still consider yourself Voren?” “Of course. They reared me, but I am no faerie.” “If they saw my mother murdered, why didn’t they tell my father? And why not tell him about the baby?” “As for the first, I cannot reason that one out. Something to do with Novus and his odd relationship with your father. As for the second.... If your wife had died today....” Ryor’s gut clenched.

“And you knew she was with child.... How would you have felt?” He couldn’t even form a response in his mind. Caprion dusted a speck from his pants. “Perhaps that is why she didn’t tell you.” It took Ryor a moment to realize what Caprion was telling him. “Evangeline?” “She is with child.” Ryor opened his mouth to ask. “The faeries saw and told her before you left. They told me. They asked me not to tell you—something about your wife wanting to be the one,” he said with a dismissive wave. “But I do what I want.” Ryor imagined his face must be a blank mask, mirroring the emotions in him. He didn’t know what they were. They should be strenuous, even overpowering. But he felt only the dead weight of confusion. In one day he’d faced death, terror, relief, betrayal, fury, and now what seemed like joy .... He couldn’t react properly to any of it. “I ... I don’t.... I don’t know what to say.” “Well, while I have you in this limbo state, I must ask something.” Caprion didn’t wait for Ryor to ask what. “I wish to pay my respects to my father.” Ryor felt himself nodding, but couldn’t rise from his seat until he saw Caprion get up. By now they would have moved his father to the burial room, where his body would be prepared for presentation at the state funeral. They walked there and pushed the door open, but Ryor was not prepared for what he saw. On the floor beside the table where three women would tend to his father, knelt Shaol, sobbing, cradling his father in her arms. The women attending stared at Ryor in horror. One of them opened her palms in a helpless gesture. “We don’t know what to do!” she said. “She won’t let us do our work.”

Ryor went to Shaol. “What are you doing?” “I want him to know how sorry I am,” Shaol said, stroking Qeron’s head, her fingers coming away with blood from his hair. “I never meant for any of this to happen.” “Shaol, get up,” Ryor said. When she didn’t, he reached down to help her. She pulled out the knife she had under her leg. “I’m not finished,” she said, more calmly now. The more docile tone and her glazed, not quite focused eyes concerned him. “Shaol—” “He has to know I would never have gone along if I’d known what Tralg was going to do. Gran said it was the right thing, fighting for the Purists, and....” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I never cared about their claims or stances. Silliness.” She turned then and looked him right in the eye. “But Gran said he loved me, and we were one, and that’s all that mattered.” “Give me the knife.” Having said what she needed to, she relented and handed him the blade. He signaled the other women to come and take his father’s body, which they did, returning it to the table. Shaol was obviously repentant, but clearly, she had betrayed his father in some way, and now he was dead. She must be punished. Still on the floor, Shaol went on, confessing to telling Gran when Evangeline, Ryor and Daniel had left the city with their company of soldiers, and how she’d stood by, horrified when Gran and others had taken the king to the throne room where Tralg was waiting. Ryor had heard enough. He would not execute her here, where his father was being prepared for burial. He called a guard to take her to her apartment. He would deal with her later. Caprion said nothing until she had gone. Then he walked to the table to look down at his sire. “I met him. Several times,” he said.

But he hadn’t looked like this. Limp. Beaten. Ryor watched as a woman carefully stitched the five-inch gash on his father’s left side, taking her time with precision movements, as if afraid to awaken him. The second woman treated the wound on his head. The third wiped him down with a soapy sponge. Next, he would be perfumed and dressed. King Qeron, prepared to meet his fathers. Where? In Heaven? Ryor hoped that’s where he was. He had a working knowledge of the Word and often spoke of Yeshua as his friend and Savior, but one couldn’t really know that about another person. It was between Qeron and His God. Caprion moved closer, displacing the woman from Qeron’s head, and stooped to whisper in his ear. “We will meet again and speak as we ought.” He pressed a kiss to his forehead, then stared at him for another few seconds, eyes traveling slowly over his features. Finally, he stood. “I’m proud to call you Father.” Ryor bowed his head. In the hall, Rissa ed, looking solemn and miserable, eyes downcast. She approached cautiously and curtsied low. “Your Highness. Please allow me to tell you how sorry I am about your father.” She rose and then turned to jet off, but he stopped her. “Thank you, Rissa. Uh ... where is my wife?” “She bathed and fell asleep. Shall I—” “No.” He gave her a nod of dismissal, watching her go. “She’s an odd girl, that one,” he said, almost to himself. “Ah, fem folk and their secrets,” Caprion said, looking at her. “But eventually we find out.” He chuckled. “Often the things we learn are nothing we expected.” “Your meaning?” Ryor wondered if he spoke of Evangeline or women in general.

“Did you know my intended loves another?” “Yes.” “Yes. Daniel the blue.” He shook his head. “I don’t see the attraction, but.... I it I was pressed to challenge him. You know how pride is.” “I would have to intervene on his behalf then. I owe him a debt. He taught my wife to kiss.” “Oh?” Caprion’s right eyebrow arched high. “Long story,” Ryor answered with a wave. Caprion shrugged. “Lizzbre saw to it I could not duel him. She cursed me.” Ryor’s left brow rose. By what he understood of the faerie tradition, Lizzbre could be put to death if he so chose. “To die in a duel?” “No. To marry the woman I love and to forego revenge. I could do nothing but give her her freedom.” Not sure he’d heard correctly, Ryor tipped his head. “Can she do that?” Caprion smiled. “Oh yes. A brilliant move, I must say. And since I am attracted to shiny things....” “Ilna?” Yes, Ilna was shiny. But was that preferred over intelligence? “I see in your face you don’t know why I would settle for a woman with bright hair and a dim wit.” Ryor raised a hand. “I didn’t say that.” Caprion lowered his head, then looked back up at Ryor. “She has indescribable value. She’s pure of heart. While she can be taught, instructed, in order to be smarter, purity cannot be taught.” Ryor had to it that Ilna was sweet. But when she knew a bit more of the world, would she be as pure of heart?

“Speaking of the right intentions,” Caprion said. “You should know I have no interest in being a prince. For all it matters, I am already treated as one wherever I go. I enjoy being autonomous.” Ryor hadn’t given the idea any thought, actually. “And I have no desire to be king. The roles change little, other than I won’t be expected to be in every battle.” “Ah, that’s a wife that changes that.” Caprion laughed. Ryor chuckled. “True. But I mean the rest of it, too. Killing men on a battlefield is one thing. It’s rare—hopefully,” he said, with a tilt of his head. “But it’s the day-to-day things. Duties I haven’t had to think about that can change citizen’s lives. Every day duties. Figuring citizen shares, land squabbles, creating alternate roads to avoid dragons. Controlling dragon populations.” He wanted to sigh. Finally did. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. I don’t know why I am.” “Because, expected or not, we are brothers. And you and I are more alike than we might have imagined.” They walked into the gallery before Ryor stopped again. “I just ed another duty.” “Clean up?” Caprion grinned. Ryor followed. It was an awful thing to scour the kingdom, finding and executing all traitors involved in the coup. But it was necessary, and if Ryor itted it—and why wouldn’t he—it was fun. “I’ve never been involved in one, but if you need an extra hand....” He looked at Ryor, tilting his head in much the same way Ryor did. “You know Cri’ar will come.” “And they’ll die.” He paused. “You’ll fight?” “I believe so. It would be a shame to waste this.” Caprion moved across the gallery and back in a blur. “A lifetime of lessons from Foddle and the other faerie war masters.” “Perhaps you can teach me that.”

“I look forward to it.”

CHAPTER 20

EVANGELINE WOKE WITH a smile. It took only a moment for the memories of the night to erase it. She sat up and looked around, recognizing the room in Qeron’s palace. At the thought, she cried. She’d become very fond of Qeron and his gruff, subtly kind ways. She had never seen a dead body before. Even her mother’s. And like there, too, she hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye. Now he would never know he was going to be a grandfather. In the next instant, she naturally thought of Ryor. He hadn’t said goodbye either. He needed to grieve, and she needed to share that with him. She got out of bed and began dressing. Today was going to be hard, so she wanted something simple. Jeans and a shirt. While telling him he was going to be a father would be easy, telling him who her father was—had been—wouldn’t be. Familial tie or not, she couldn’t feel bad that Tralg was dead. How could one person cause so much damage and destruction with no remorse, no caring whatsoever? Ryor deserved to know about his mother’s death too. She wasn’t sure if there were other nipak who could show him the scene played out, but she hoped not. He didn’t need to see any more brutality. Just knowing that her father had murdered his mother.... It would be hard for both of them to deal with. “Lord, I need Your help to get through this day,” she said, opening the bedroom door. And there was Rissa. Might as well start here. It wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done. She pulled her inside her room and sat her down. Evangeline broke the news to her as gently as she could. She told her the complete story of what Tralg had itted he’d done to her, to her mother, and what he’d done to Linda. Rissa was understandably shaken, but the moment Evangeline confirmed his death, it was like a switch went on. Her face froze, processing this pivotal information, and then she smiled. Really smiled.

“I always avoided him,” Rissa said, standing. “I didn’t want to come across his sights and make him think of me, and I especially didn’t want him to see me with Gard and put his life in danger. Tralg told me if I told anyone what he’d done that he would kill me and them. I told no one. No one.” She stopped crying, wiped her tears, and laughed. “I feel so ... so....” “Free?” “Yes! I feel free!” She spun in a circle, laughing. “Oh, I’m so glad!” Rissa paused and took a breath. “It’s going to be different now. I was always aware of my surroundings, on the alert because he would just arrive whenever he wanted. And I hid Tipp, too. I don’t think he knew about her.” A few more tears squeezed out, and Evangeline draped an arm over her shoulder. “There’s another thing.” Rissa looked at her, nervous. “It’s a good thing.” Evangeline smiled. “Since my father is the same as Tipp’s, that makes her my half-sister.” Rissa smiled, nodding. “And I plan to honor that. So, as princess—” “Queen,” Rissa corrected. Evangeline had a hard time ascribing the title to herself. She swallowed. “As ... queen, I command you to cease working at the palace or anywhere else.” Rissa looked entirely confused. “I want you to find a place for you and Tipp—anywhere you like, even one of those ... floating estate things. You’ll live as ladies of leisure.” Now Rissa laughed. Evangeline imagined it must be like winning the lottery.

Then Rissa’s face sobered. “There is only one place in all the world I want to be. At Gard’s side.” Evangeline smiled. “Then so be it.” “Do I have to tell Gard about what Tralg...? Can’t I just....” She sighed. “No. Be honest with him. Restart your relationship with nothing between you.” Rissa nodded. “Okay, go on then. Go find him.” “I will have to wait until he returns. He’s with the soldiers slaughtering traitors.” She announced it like he’d run to the store for milk, but Evangeline’s stomach turned. More death. And danger. Traitors wouldn’t calmly walk out of the woods and offer themselves up. Evangeline put on a faux smile. “Well, when he gets back. I’ll expect a full report.” After thanking her again—profusely—Rissa left, leaving Evangeline alone again with her thoughts. At least she’d checked one major thing off her to do list today. Turning to go back into the hall, something large ed from top to bottom outside her window. She ran over and looked down. “Oh, God.” There, on the pavement three floors below her window, was Shaol, a blood pool spreading beneath her head.

EVANGELINE DIDN’T YET read Voren well enough to decipher Shaol’s suicide note, so she had someone translate it for her. Shaol apologized for her sins against God and against the crown. She told Evangeline that she was the best friend she’d ever had, and thanked her for the respect and kindness she’d shown her, then asked forgiveness for repaying with treachery and betrayal. Evangeline cried through its reading. Even considering her misdeeds, Shaol had been her friend. In fact, she’d saved her life when she’d untied her and tossed her the bow. Her biggest mistake, as far as Evangeline could tell, was falling in love with the wrong man. Both Ryor and Daniel had claimed they would do anything Tralg asked for her. Was this any different? She didn’t know if Gran loved Shaol or not, but Ryor would certainly make him pay either way. If he wasn’t already dead. She was still crying when Ryor came in. He went to her and took her in his arms. “I’m here, Evangeline. What is it?” The feel of his body against hers opened a torrent of emotion, but to her surprise, not of tears. She clung tightly. “Just hold me,” she said. “Just don’t let go.” She closed her eyes, relishing the security in his powerful arms, the love pumping through the heart that beat against her ear. She smiled. He smelled of soap, sweat, and ... the metallic sting of blood. She pulled back. “I smell blood. Are you hurt?” she asked, gasping as she now spotted the splatters all over his clothes. “It’s not mine, masevina.” “My God, what do you think you’re doing coming to me with blood all over you?” She wanted to be upset but realized even as she talked that this was only a distraction to keep her from having to talk about the hard stuff. Yeah, she was a

mess. Ryor pulled his shirt over his head, then stepped out of his pants, leaving him standing before her, naked. He brushed a finger along her jawbone and smiled. “I’m going to wash.” She nodded, wishing this was any other day when she would just him for some soapy fun. But this was no ordinary day. As she waited for him, she took a notebook from a pile of empty ones on a chest of drawers. She and Shaol had found them in the library, and when she had asked Qeron if she could have one, he’d told her to take them all if she wanted. They were the same type Linda had used. No doubt she had planned on filling them all. Evangeline decided she would journal as well. And what better time to start than now with some writing therapy? Pouring out her emotions might go a long way in ordering her thoughts for her talk with Ryor. But he showered quickly, and she had gotten only as far as “I’m pregnant!” when he’d come back into the room wearing a robe. Without waiting, he took her hand and sat her on the bed, sitting with her. “First....” He kissed her. Sweetly, and rested his head against hers. “We have to talk,” Evangeline said. “About the baby?” She looked at him. “Did the faeries tell you?” “Indirectly. Caprion.” He took her hands in his. “I couldn’t be happier.” He kissed her again. “How do you feel about the baby?” “Me?” She placed a hand to her heart. She didn’t think he’d ask such a thing. She hadn’t really thought of it herself. “I’m happy.” “Really?”

“Yes.” Yes, she was. “I’m a little scared though.” “Of having a baby? Or having my baby?” He chuckled when she winced. “It will work out, I promise you. I’ll send you to the faeries if I must.” “What?” “I’ll tell you about that later.” She paused, looking out the window, noticing it was raining. It wouldn’t last long; rain here never did. She reached over and took Shaol’s suicide note from the bedside table. “What’s this?” Ryor asked when she handed it to him. “Read it.” He did, looking at her when he finished. “This is why you were crying?” She sniffed. “Partly. She jumped from the top parapet.” For the next several minutes she relayed all that had happened, including seeing his mother’s death—which he agreed not to look into further—and ending with Tralg’s revelations. He sat silently, watching his thumbs move across one another as he held them linked between his knees. Evangeline’s heart accelerated to what she was sure was an unhealthy speed. Waiting for him to speak. “I had wondered why he called you half-blood.” He smiled at her. “Proving it was fate that brought us together. With some meddling from my father.” She was so relieved she cried again. At once, Ryor took her to his side and held her. “It will all be all right, masevina. We’re starting over.” Evangeline laid a palm to his cheek and turned his face to hers. “Tell me what you feel. About your father. About being king.” He looked away for a moment, presumably to get his emotions in check. “I will

be the best king I can be. I will always miss and love my father, but I will always be grateful to him for finding you.” He took her hand and kissed her palm. “And I pledge to be the best husband and father I can be. Kidnapping you was the best thing I ever did.” She rubbed her belly. “You may be right, cariad mi vida.” He smiled. “I am proud to be the love of your life. As you are mine.” He kissed her lips again. And again.

THE END

EPILOGUE

IAM TOLD THAT ON EARTH , in America, they call June the wedding month. It is June there and we have had one wedding here in the palace already. It was good to rejoice with Gard and Rissa, given their tragic history. It will be good, too, watching Daniel and Lizzbre wed in the Faerie Wood in a week. Caprion will officiate. I didn’t trust him entirely when I first learned he is my brother. I can’t say I do yet. Not entirely. I was raised to think of every person I meet as a potential enemy. And knowing that Caprion could kill me, my wife, and child, and become King of Innovia, is still sometimes in the back of my mind even though he claims to want nothing to do with its governing. Time will tell. Looking back, I cannot regret the past year. My father, King Qeron, was a mighty man and a fierce warrior, who loved his wife, my mother, very much. He was denied the happiness this life would have given him with Queen Linda, but I know he is happy now. I know he loved me and that love urged him to find my bride. Evangeline— What can I say of her? She is the strongest, most loving woman I have known. Even now she is nearly at the time of delivery with our first child, a boy we will name Qeron Daniel. She is no longer afraid of the birth, since the faerie midwives will be here. They specialize in life and death. Evangeline, it seems, specializes in everything in between. She is the greatest pleasure in my bed, in my arms, in my heart. She makes every day worth rising for. Speaking of that, I have issued a decree that a man is no longer free to bed concubines after marriage. Be faithful or be single. I have also changed my mother’s death certificate to reflect that she was not a traitor to the realm, but had been murdered by Tralg. A recording of the nipak memories has been logged to record, though I will never watch it myself. Shaol’s burial was a source of contention between my wife and me. I thought it

good enough to toss her corpse to the shredders with the rest of the traitors we found for months after their failed coup. There are likely more out there and I will do the same with them. As long as there are people, there will be Purists. People who refuse to accept those different from themselves. Being the best king I can be, they won’t accept me, either. But back to Shaol, Evangeline insisted she be buried as an honored friend. I relented only because Shaol gave me wise advice about handling Evangeline when we first wed. Well, that and I can deny my wife nothing. She is my heart. My Masevina. And, as another Earth saying goes— Happy wife, happy life. We buried Shaol in the State cemetery the day after we laid my father to rest here at the palace. We have moved in here, and will use my castle as a museum— Evangeline’s idea. It is old and speaks of a different time, stuck in the past. The throne riser, original to my castle anyway, will be returned there. We are moving forward. I will close for now. I have a yearning to see where my wife is. I suspect I will find her in the women’s courtyard, or somewhere thereabouts in the sunshine. She won’t be too hard to find with that enormous belly. Nor will she be too hard to lure away with kisses. King Ryor of Voren, Highest of the Innovia Realms

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