bedroom ceiling. Only this time, their positions had changed, their colors dimmer and darker orange.
The humming abruptly stopped.
“Eugenie?”
“Mom,” I croaked. My throat felt torn and raw.
She moved into my field of vision, face drawn with worry. I couldn’t believe it. She looked almost entirely normal. Her hair had a bit of a wind-swept look, and I could see a few bruises. Other than that, she seemed fine, not like she’d just endured a paranormal attack and subsequent magically induced maelstrom. For just a moment, I questioned my own memories. Had I imagined what happened? Had it been a trick or a vision? No. I felt like shit. No delusion could have caused this pain.
“You’re okay?” I asked doubtfully.
She nodded. “Fine. What about you?”
I tentatively attempted to make contact with the muscles in my body. They told me to leave them the fuck alone.
“I hurt.”
She adjusted the cloth on my head, making it fractionally more perfect. As she leaned over, a lock of her hair slipped forward, and I made out muddy fingerprints on her neck. No. Definitely not my imagination.
“I called Roland. He was up in Flagstaff with Bill. He’s on his way back now-should be here in a couple of hours.”
“Mom…how’d you recover?”
“What do you mean?”
“You were really messed up from those spirits. Don’t you remember?”
“I got a little shaken up but nothing worse. Nothing like you.” She frowned, giving a little sigh. “God, how I wish you were a lawyer instead. Or maybe a pharmacist.”
“What do you remember happening?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “I remember going after one of those…creatures. After that, it’s a blur. I must have panicked. Your living room is, uh, going to need some help.”
I closed my eyes, feeling tired. My living room would probably need to be bulldozed and rebuilt from scratch. No telling how the rest of the house had fared. It could probably collapse at any moment. My room actually looked kind of normal. A few things were knocked over, probably casualties of stray gusts of wind.
“You’ve got people here who want to see you.”
I opened my eyes. “Who?”
“No one I know. A man and a woman.”
“Is the man a fox?”
She stared at me, confused. “A fox? He’s very handsome, yes, but, sweetie…maybe I should send them away. You don’t sound like you’re better yet.”
“No, no, let me talk to them.” I had a feeling the missing pieces of what had happened during and after the storm lay with Kiyo. “And I need to talk to them…alone.”
My mother looked hurt.
“It’s not personal. It’s business.”
She started to argue, then shook her head and stood up. “I’ll go get them.”
While she was gone, I dared a hasty assessment of my appearance. I was still in my underwear and camisole. The top in particular was ripped and dirty. I pulled the covers up almost to my neck and ran a hand over my hair and face. I could feel more dirt on my skin plus a scab on my cheek, distantly reminding me of a shard of something flying out and cutting me. My hair stuck out everywhere. I attempted to smooth it down, but then my mom returned with Kiyo and a strange woman.
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” Mom said protectively. She pulled the door closed behind her, all but a crack.
Kiyo’s face told me all I needed to know about the way I looked.
“You should see the other guy,” I said.
A small smile broke over his face. “I did. He’s in pieces in the other room.”
“Oh.”
He beckoned to the woman. “Eugenie, this is Maiwenn, queen of the Willow Land.”
I started in surprise. She didn’t look like a Willow Queen. Of course, I’m not sure what exactly I expected- maybe something akin to Glinda the Good Witch. But this woman looked like Surfer Girl Barbie. Her skin glowed with a deep bronze tan. Platinum blond hair fell in supermodel waves to her waist. Her eyes were the color of the sea in the sun, blue-green with long lashes. She wore a simple blue dress, a bit old-fashioned but nothing that screamed, “I’m a fairy queen.” It was looser than the form-fitting gowns other gentry women seemed to favor but was still quite pretty. My feelings of inadequacy about my appearance increased tenfold.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. I could hear the tentativeness in my voice. Kiyo might swear to her character, but I still carried a lot of apprehension around the gentry, monarch or no.
“And you,” she said. Her voice was rich and sweet, her face serene. “I’m sorry I could not heal you too.”
“‘Too’? Oh…was it you? Did you heal my mother? She doesn’t remember anything…”
She nodded. “I didn’t have the power to heal you both. She was more severely injured, and with your age and stamina-and your blood-well, I thought you’d have an easier time recovering.”
I thought about the aches and pains shooting through my body. Easier? That might be a subjective term.
“You made the right choice. Thanks. I’ll be fine.”
Kiyo stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall. “Eugenie doesn’t like to admit weakness. It’s one of her more charming traits.”
I shot him a glare, and Maiwenn offered a small, polite smile. “Nothing wrong with that.” She approached me and extended a hand toward my face. “I think I have enough strength for a small healing. May I?”
I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to.
Her fingertips grazed my cheek, icy cold but gentle. A tingle ran through me, and she drew back, suddenly looking pale and tired. Kiyo started to help her when she stumbled, but she waved him off. “There. No scarring this way.” My fingers examined the place she had touched. No more scab.
“Thank you.” Silence fell, and I looked from face to face. With me in bed and them hanging around so casually, I didn’t really feel like I was having a meeting with a bona fide queen. It was all so informal. “What happened?”
They exchanged uncertain glances. “We’re not really sure,” he said. “You and your mother were both unconscious. The elemental was dead, and your living room…it looks kind of bad.”
“But…that was it?”
His eyebrows rose. “What more could there be?”
“There was no storm when you showed up?”
They exchanged conspiratorial looks again, and something about their solidarity rankled me.
“Tell us what you remember,” Maiwenn said.
I did, starting with the spirit attack and ending with the vicious storm.
Neither spoke when I finished. Kiyo sighed.
“What?” I demanded. “What happened? You obviously know.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated lately. Let me guess. It was the magic, wasn’t it? Storm King’s inherited power?”
He didn’t answer. She did.
“Yes. It seems it has been passed down after all.”
“Can I stop it? Keep it locked up so it doesn’t come out again?”
“Not likely. You might be able to bury it so it isn’t consciously used, but…if it’s there, it’s likely to burst out again when your emotions let loose. You’ll get the same kind of disastrous results if you don’t learn to manage it.”
“I don’t want it.” I shuddered, recalling that horrible blackness and deadly lightning. Uneasily, I remembered
