Seanan McGuire - Once Broken Faith

“I asked you not to act before I arrived,” he said, looking back to Arden. “As it seems you woke your seneschal while I was being ushered into your halls, you’ve done as I asked. I’ll be more precise in my requests from now on. No one else is to be awoken until we have discussed the proper use and distribution of the elf-shot cure. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sire,” said Arden. She glanced at her sleeping brother, mouth twisting, before she returned her attention to the High King. “You are very generous.”

“And you’re in a difficult position, Queen Windermere. If I seem generous, it’s because, as Sir Daye says, I understand that your current lack of experience with our politics is partially on me. You’re learning as you go. I won’t punish you this time. Or perhaps your punishment will be hosting this conclave. As for you, Sir Daye . . .” High King Sollys turned to me.

I offered him my best, brightest smile. “I should get ice cream and a pony as my reward for preventing another war.”

“You should be commended for your role in preventing the war between the Mists and Silences; we’ll speak of that later,” he said. “Unlike Queen Windermere, you do not have the excuse of ignorance to shield you from your own actions. You knew what I intended by my instructions, and you allowed it anyway.”

“She’s Queen, I’m not,” I said. “I don’t ‘allow’ Arden to do anything. I just try really hard to minimize its impact on the people around me.”

Arden wasn’t saying anything in my defense. I couldn’t blame her for that. If she spoke, she might attract the High King’s attention again, and worse, he might decide to censure Walther or Madden, neither of whom was at fault here.

“Still, you can’t be allowed to flaunt my decrees just because you don’t feel like arguing with your regent,” he said. The corner of his mouth was turning upward, like he was fighting a smile. Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. “I’m afraid I must order you to attend the conclave, as you need to understand what your actions could have done. Bring your squire. I’m sure it will be educational for him.”

I resisted the urge to glare. This wasn’t about punishing me: this was about getting Quentin to the conclave without blowing his cover. Never mind that anyone who looked at my squire next to the High King was likely to start asking questions about Quentin’s blind fosterage. There was no way a responsible regent could pass up this kind of learning opportunity for a king-to-be.

“I’ll clear my calendar,” I said, standing and bowing deeply. “So this has been fun and everything, but I’m supposed to be hosting a slumber party for a bunch of teenagers right now, and I’d like to get back to it before they burn my house down. May I be excused?”

“Certainly,” said High King Sollys, with a broad wink. He turned to Arden. “I’m assuming you brought Sir Daye here?”

“Yes, sire,” she said. She scribed a wide arch in the air with one hand. Apparently the injunction against magic was no longer in effect if she wasn’t getting ready to wake her brother. A portal appeared at the center of the room, showing a lovely view of my back yard. It was a good call. The yard was sheltered from mortal eyes, which meant I wouldn’t need to embarrass myself by fumbling with my clumsy illusions in front of the High King, and since it wasn’t inside, she didn’t need to worry about freaking out any of my guests.

“Sir Daye?” said Aethlin, looking back to me. “I believe your road home is open.”

“I see that,” I said. “Mind if I take Walther with me? May’s making cookies. He loves her cookies.”

“You may take the alchemist,” said the High King.

Walther put his wine snifter down on the nearest table and all but bounded to my side, clearly as eager to be out of there as I was. I reached for his hand, ready to pull him through with me, and paused as High King Sollys cleared his throat.

“The alchemist—Master Walther Davies, is it not?” He paused long enough for Walther to nod before he continued, “Master Davies will also be required to attend the coming conclave, as it’s his work that will be under discussion. You will make yourself available to us, yes?”

“Yes, sire,” said Walther, with a quick bow. His voice was tight, and I knew he was thinking about his class schedule, what he could move or pawn off on grad students without endangering his students. Teaching chemistry might seem mundane compared to, oh, being a knight errant of a fae kingdom, but he took it very seriously. That was part of what made him so good at his job, and such a skilled alchemist.

“Good,” said the High King. “You are both excused.”

He was turning back to Arden as I yanked Walther through the portal, which slammed closed behind us. She was probably going to get a lecture, and I was fine with that. She’d disrupted my evening and caused me to be compelled to attend a political event. She deserved to be yelled at a little.

The night air was warm and scented with my neighbors’ honeysuckle, which was blooming so violently that it seemed likely to rip down the trellis where it grew. I let go of Walther’s hand, coughing as I inhaled a great lungful of smoggy mortal air.

“I appreciate the save,” he said, pulling his glasses out of his pocket and putting them on. They were nonprescription, intended to blunt the unnatural blue of his eyes. The color bled through his human disguises, making him seem inhuman no matter how hard he tried. “I had no idea how I was going to get out of that room.”

“I sort of figured,” I said. “Do we need to give you a ride home? May and Jazz don’t know that I’m back yet. I could probably sneak away.”

“I have my own transportation.” Walther reached into his coat and pulled out a bundle of yarrow twigs, holding them up with a wry smile. “It’s a nice offer, but I’d like some time to think about what just happened.”

“Sure,” I said. “Come by any time, and I guess I’ll see you at the conclave, whenever that is.”

He nodded. “See you there.” Then he positioned the bundle of twigs so that it was basically under his butt, kicked off from the ground, and flew away.

Sometimes life in Faerie is deeply, deeply weird. I unlocked the back door and let myself inside.

The kitchen was a disaster zone. Empty pizza boxes were piled on the counter, someone had spilled nacho cheese on the table, and May was in the process of mixing a batch of Rice Krispie treats, if the smell of hot marshmallow was anything to go by. She blinked when she saw me. I blinked back.

“I was gone for less than an hour,” I said. “How did you make this big of a mess? And where’s Jazz?”

“At the store; we ran out of ice cream,” said May. “As for ‘how did we make this big of a mess,’ there are five—count them, five —teenagers in the other room who were told that for tonight, they got to be normal. Not in charge of anything, not afraid of anything, not learning how to exist in a strange new world, just normal. So they tore through the kitchen like a buzz saw, made nachos when they realized that we’d foolishly failed to order enough pizza for an army, and now they’re in the living room watching Disney movies.”

Her voice rose a bit on the last two words, breaking like she was struggling not to laugh. My eyes widened. “Oh, sweet Maeve, you’re not serious.”

“I am.” She nodded solemnly. “I am serious. They are enjoying the animated stylings of the Walt Disney Corporation. Dean has never seen a cartoon before.”

“He had Internet in the Undersea.”

“Sure, but he lacked the cultural context to tell him why he should want to waste his time watching movies about things that weren’t real.” May glanced to the kitchen door as she lost her battle against her grin. It spread across her face like she was in the process of becoming a Cheshire cat, until it seemed like she was nothing but the smile. “That poor, unfortunate soul.”