Charmed Vengeance

“What is that?” She gestured to the blanket-covered automaton, leading them back through the curtain and down the passage, waggling her bottom at James in the process.

James grinned at Steven. “My brother brought his own date.”

Steven thumped his brother in the arm. “Lay off.”

Rolling his eyes, he rubbed his arm and snorted. “You are such a fussy old bodger.”

Noli. Every time James called him V or fussy old bodger it sent pangs through his heart sharper than any sword. He looked over at James who was as laid-back and flirtatious as ever, even after losing the love of his life. How did he do it? If anything happened to Noli he might not be able to carry on. Certainly, not like James.

The woman sat them at a table in the corner with a good view of the stage show, which seemed more subdued than last time. Today, those present seemed more interested in food and conversation than the show. A woman sat in a giant birdcage, singing. Steven sat the wrapped automaton in her own chair.

“Mathias will see you shortly.” Waggling her fingers at James, she left them alone.

“How do you do it?” Steven asked James. “I know you miss Charlotte, I know you loved her, I just don’t understand how you carry on, flirting and joking as if nothing ever happened.”

James face darkened like a storm cloud. “I miss her so much.”

“Of course you do.” He couldn’t even fathom his brother’s pain.

“I could either lie in bed and pine for her, or continue on with my life—and someone,” he shot Steven a look of mock-annoyance, “wouldn’t let me stay a-bed. Also,” he sighed, running his fingers through his wayward curls. “Moping won’t bring her back. All the yearning in the world won’t bring her back. She made me promise I’d go on with my life, and this,” he held out his hands, “is the only way I know how.”

Steven clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a stronger man than I.”

“Am I?” James flashed him a grateful look. “You’re the smart one; I’m just the funny, cute, charming one.”

He laughed. “You are the better swordsman.”

“True.” James signaled the serving girl for a drink. The girl in the birdcage changed songs, this one in some other mortal language.

Mathias strode over to them. “Stiofan, Seamus, were you successful?”

Steven patted the bundle in the chair. “Yes, we were. Now, to get this back—which is why we’re here. We’re hoping you can direct us to the nearest safe portal back to the Otherworld. We didn’t want to simply bumble all over New York only to use someone’s private portal which could take us to who-knows-where.”

Mathias joined them at the table, not seeming as jolly as he had last time.

“I’m sorry, we didn’t bring you a gift,” Steven added.

He shook his head. “It’s all right, Tiny will live.”

The hound’s name was Tiny? Even as pups Fae hounds weren’t tiny.

The serving girl set drinks before them all. Mathias picked his up and held it, examining the contents in the light of the gas chandelier. “That’s prudent. Most portals here are private. I’m also glad you stopped by.”

Mathias’ words made Steven’s blood run cold. “Something’s wrong.”

“Someone’s trying to get you a message.” Mathias took a long drink. “Do you know someone named Captain Vix?”

“Noli.” It came out like a half-choked noise.

James thumped him on the back. “We know her. What’s the message?”

“Wait—how did Vix know where to find us?” Steven’s heart raced. Noli. Something had to be wrong with Noli.

“Um, Hattie probably told Vix where we were going, oh, and I may have told Hattie she could leave me a message here.” James’ cheeks pinked.

Steven put his head in his hand. “You’re impossible.”

“Do you want to hear the message or not?” Mathias’ voice tinged with gentle annoyance.

“Of course, please.” Steven wrapped his hands around his glass.

“It’s a very simple message. Noli’s ill. Come to Boston.” He appraised them. “I have a feeling that’s not good news.”

All the blood drained out of his face. “No, it’s not.”

That could explain why he hadn’t been able to find her last night when he’d dream searched. Noli was ill. Ill enough that Vix, who despised him, sent word. But why?

Something seemed to be missing here. Still, they had to travel to Boston. Immediately.

“I appreciate you delivering the message.” Shaking, Steven stood.

“Focus, V. We’re so close.” James put a hand on his arm. “I think it’s odd that I’m the one who keeps telling you to stay on task. Anyhow, why don’t we take this to the queen, then find Noli, just like we planned.”

Steven didn’t believe his ears. “She’s ill enough for Vix, who did this,” he pointed to the shiner on his face, “to send word. Something’s wrong.”

“I care about Noli, too, but we’re nearly finished.”

“There’s a public portal near Boston. Why don’t you check on her, then continue on with your quest,” Mathias suggested, taking another drink.

The sensibility of Mathias’ suggestion startled him. “Yes, that sounds like a very sound plan.” He looked to James. “Don’t you think?”

James stood. “I think that should work.”

“Good.” Mathias checked his pocket watch. “If you hurry you can still catch the train.”

Twenty Bittersweet Returns

Checking to make sure the magical protections on the place still held, Kevighn entered a familiar clearing. They’d held, but he didn’t follow the path to his familiar wooden cabin. No, he went around back to Creideamh’s gardens. All Magnolia’s hard work had gone to seed as once again everything around him ran wild, a cacophony of green and growth.

A pink rose among the tangle caught his attention. His fingers caressed petals soft as silk. Magnolia. She’d be so happy here, with the gardens, roses, and the faerie tree.

He crossed into the woods where Creideamh’s grove and tree house lay. Thank the Bright Lady Ciaran used his own magic to keep the grove from disappearing when he was banished. Gazing up at the giant faerie tree, he studied the tree house in its branches, formed of the tree itself. Creideamh’s laughter practically echoed through the clearing.

So did Noli’s.

A glowing ball of purple tugged on his hair.

“Hello, to you, too.” He held out his finger for the tiny wood faery to perch on. “I’ve just come to get a few things, but I’ll return.” Ever since Creideamh’s death he’d come and gone, doing his work as huntsman. It would probably be the same with Ciaran, only he much preferred the joviality of The Thirsty Pooka to the formality of the high palace.

The wood faery flew off in a flutter of translucent wings and he climbed into the tree house, more wood faeries watching him curiously, but not denying him entrance. Closing his eyes, he tried to picture his sister.

All he saw was sweet Magnolia, who’d loved this place just as much.

When he opened his eyes, ghosts of his little blossom lurked everywhere. The basket and Creideamh’s dress lay discarded on the floor from the last time he’d been within. The dress Magnolia had been wearing when he’d tried to seduce her at the high queen’s command.

He picked them both up and returned to the house. The basket went in the kitchen, the dress in Creideamh’s room. Kevighn looked around the room, which still smelled of Magnolia—of dirt, roses, and those berries she