Warriors, all fully armed and dressed in ancient kilts, stood around the perimeter of the large room, looking somber and ready to protect their queen. In front of a wall of windows there was a triple-tiered onyx dais that held a white marble throne on which Queen Sgiach sat. Seoras went to the dais, bowed low to his queen, and then took position standing beside the throne on her right.
Sgiach wore a long, formfitting dress made of golden velvet, belted low around her waist by the same plaid Seoras wore. A wicked-looking sword rested beside her, and the hilt of a dirk peeked from her plaid belt.
The throne on which she sat was like nothing he’d ever seen. Intricate knot carvings danced and swirled up it. Kevin thought he saw animals and people woven into the knots, but it was the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows behind the queen that truly captured his attention. Though it was dark, the moon shining through the panels provided enough light for Kevin to make out the full-color scene that depicted Sgiach, hair streaming behind her, sword raised, holding a severed head in her hand as she stood on a cliff overlooking her island. Warriors kneeled to her and sprites hovered all around her as white-capped waves crashed in the background.
“So, young Warriors, I have considered your request. I agree. We must know if Neferet has used the sprites to open the portal between worlds, and I will ask them. But you must understand that if she has already passed through to that alternate world, I cannot condone the use of Old Magick to take you there.”
At his side Kevin felt Stark stiffen, and before he could say something that might piss off the queen, Kevin spoke. “Okay, Your Majesty. Let’s just take this one step at a time.”
Stark sighed heavily but said, “Yes. We do appreciate your help.”
The queen’s raised brow said she believed Stark’s frustrated sigh more than his appreciation, but she said nothing and stood. She walked to the edge of the top tier of the dais and took the dirk from her belt. Sgiach lifted her hand and with one swift motion, sliced through her palm.
The scent of her blood hit Kevin. It was rich and delicious—like Grandma’s chocolate-chip lavender cookies and sunshine mixed together and sprinkled with honey. He wanted to rush to her, fall to his knees, and beg her to let him drink, just a drop. He glanced at Stark beside him. He, too, was staring wide-eyed at the queen’s bleeding hand.
You cannot move, Kevin told himself. Stay the hell right here. Don’t slobber. Don’t embarrass yourself and piss off this queen.
Before Kevin lost the slipping grip he had on his self-control, Sgiach cupped her hand until the blood welled. She spoke words that Kevin didn’t understand, but felt in every inch of his body, and finished by shifting to English and saying in a voice that was filled with command, “Come to me, oh mighty sprite of the earth!” Sgiach opened her hand and flicked her wrist. For a moment Kevin thought that her amazing blood was going to rain over Stark and him, but instead of spattering them or falling to the gleaming marble floor, the drops of scarlet hovered in a crescent moon around the queen.
There was a sound like the rustling of autumn leaves in a windstorm as something rushed into the chamber. It whirled like a minitornado, absorbing the droplets of sparkling blood before it came to a halt before Sgiach and materialized.
Kevin’s eyes widened and his heart went cold as he recognized the earth sprite who had helped him before—and who had also led Aphrodite to her death. Without realizing it, Kevin started to move forward. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, only that his body was telling him he needed to fight—needed to make her pay for taking his love away from him.
Stark’s strong hand closed on his wrist, holding him in place and giving Kevin time to get control of himself.
This isn’t about me. This isn’t about Aphrodite. This is about saving a world—maybe two, Kevin reminded himself.
His gaze met Stark’s and Kevin nodded once, quickly. Stark released his wrist.
The humanoid sprite hovered several feet above the floor facing the dais with her back to Kevin and Stark. Her bark-colored skin was iridescent in the light of the chamber. She was naked, though vines twined around her nubile body, concealing much of it. Her hair was maidenhair fern and her voice was as compelling as Kevin remembered.
She nodded slightly. “Queen Sgiach, you summon me and make blood sacrifice. What small task do you wish as payment for such a price?”
The queen, too, dipped her head to the sprite before replying. “Oak, it has been some time since we have spoken, though I have felt your recent restlessness. Is all well with the fey folk?”
“Is that the question for which you spent your precious blood?”
Kevin gritted his teeth at her nonanswer, but kept his lips pressed firmly together.
“No. That was just an observation, and it seems you would rather not answer me, so I will dispense with small talk and get to the point. I want information. Has a High Priestess named Neferet called on your services, and if so, what did she want?”
Oak didn’t answer. Instead she turned in a slow circle until she was facing Kevin and Stark. Her large dark eyes narrowed with recognition.
“Ah, Redbird Boy. I know you.”
“And I know you too, Oak.” Kevin managed to grind out the response through his anger.
She gestured at Stark. “I see you have made friends with your enemy. Tell me, was that a difficult thing to do?”
Before Kevin could say anything, the queen’s voice cut through the chamber with an authority earned and owned by centuries of commanding Warriors.
“If you wish information from my guest, you will pay him a price—the same
