Dame of Owls (4 page)

             
“The Spring Court do not think in linear lines. It might not have been looking at you, at either of us. Forget what it said.”

             
Chris raised his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s as good as forgotten. I won’t say a word about it to anyone else.”

             
The tension in Sid’s face abated, and she let go of his arm. He was surprised to miss her touch when it left. She was so terribly cold, but still.

             
“Good,” she said brusquely. “Keep walking, there should be a waypoint ahead of us.”

             
The waypoint turned out to be a small, incongruous cabin squeezed in between the trees. It seemed too solid, too real against the silent forest. Chris nearly stepped on a mushroom before he realized the cabin was ringed with them.

             
There was a crude picture of a deer carved into the door, and Sid touched it reverently before going inside. After a moment, she beckoned Chris to follow her. The inside was cramped, with one small bed and a roughly carved table. There was a pillow and a folded blanket at the foot of the cot, and a lantern on the table. It seemed strangely mundane to watch Sid pull a box of matches off a shelf and light the wick.

             
“The reindeer on the door there is the symbol of our Queen. Where you see it, you’ll find safety. Steer well clear of anything marked with a rose.”

             
“Noted,” said Chris. “Your Court built this?”

             
“Ages and ages ago, before we knew the Thoroughfare so well. They still come in handy in situations like ours. Here, Spring and Winter hold total claim. Our enemies cannot set foot inside.”

             
Chris finally caved to curiosity. “I’ve been wondering, why spring and winter? That don’t seem like, well. Two great tastes that taste great together.”

             
“The Higher Courts are unknowable,” said Sid with a shrug. “But my best guess is that Spring sees little sense in bringing life to something already living, and what use is Autumn without a life to end? And so they aligned themselves up to their greatest personal satisfaction, just like every other living thing in any world you travel.”

             
She was leaning heavily against the table as she spoke, and it occurred to Chris that while he had slept in fits and starts, Sid had done no such thing. He hadn’t even seen her close her eyes since he’d left her in the car. He wondered how much sleep she needed, how much she wanted.

             
“You can have the bed,” he said. “Give me the pillow and I’m happy on the floor.”

             
She stared at him as if attempting to divine his trick. “You’re sure?”

             
“I’ve had worse, and you’re the useful one here.”

             
Chris enjoyed Sid’s laughter. Her voice wasn’t deep, but it was smooth and pleasant. Her laugh was subdued, a contained thing that she was reluctant to set free. He felt somehow victorious for uncaging it.

             
“Your point stands,” she said. “The pillow and blanket are yours.”

             
Chris had barely nodded his acknowledgement before Sid was stripping off her hoodie and t-shirt, then shimmying out of her jeans. She hardly seemed to care that she was standing around in her sports bra and underwear, just turned a little wheel to dim the lantern.

             
If Sid was a good looking woman with a t-shirt on, then she was spectacular with her lean limbs bare. Chris didn’t stare, and he certainly didn’t say anything about the smoothness of her skin, the flat planes of her belly and the gentle flare of her hips. He just pulled off his own jeans and laid them out in the hope that airing them out might counteract how long he’d been wearing them.

             
He accepted his pillow and blanket with scrupulous eye contact.

---

              They were getting dressed the next morning, Sid halfway through braiding back her hair, when something cracked outside. The sound was deafening in the little cabin. Chris jammed his feet in his shoes and Sid tied off her braid half-finished.

             
“Stay here,” she told him as she slipped outside, an order that he obeyed for all of two minutes.

             
Sid stood at the edge of the mushrooms, and mere inches from her stood another thing. It didn’t look like it was making an effort to be polite. It looked like a shifting miasma of many-limbed fire with a grotesque, burnt face shoved into its belly.

             
“I know this is not your people’s territory,” said Sid. “You are not a welcome guest here.” Her ‘so fuck off’ was very well implied.

             
“I am here with a message,” said the face with its cracked and oozing lips, its voice an echo of itself.

             
“What message could you possibly have for me?”

             
“Not you, Dame. That one.” It jabbed a burning finger, as far as the ring of mushrooms allowed it, right at Chris.

             
He was too busy swallowing his tongue to scream.

             
“He’s mortal, and no business of yours.”

             
The face managed to look condescending. “A knight follows orders, she does not ask. Your station creates your ignorance, and your ignorance betrays you.”

             
Judging by the way she curled her fists, Sid was ready to find out what happened if you punched a thing of the Autumn Court right in its smug face.

             
Chris stepped forward to stand next to her, and hopefully intercept any ill-advised fistfighting before it could start. “What’ve you got to say to me?”

             
“Stay away from the Fairy Courts, child.”

             
And with that, it turned and walked away. It left black footprints behind it, smoldering long after it was out of sight.

             
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Sid said.

---

              “So, uh. I feel special,” said Chris, some time later.

             
Special, and on some level dearly wishing that he was still in jail. Minimum security hadn’t been that bad. They’d had a library, he’d rediscovered joy in reading. There’d been no end of interesting stories from his fellow inmates, and in a place where no one was really a hardened killer most people just wanted a guy to sit still and listen. Chris was good at being that guy. He was good at listening, good at helping.

             
He’d never thought of himself as good at traipsing through the woods behind a woman equal parts scary and attractive, trying to undo the riddles of ancient creatures. He hadn’t ever been the kid who wanted to grow up to be Harry Potter.

             
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Sid grumbled.

             
She was visibly perturbed, holding her shoulders too tightly. From the way her fingers twitched, Chris could only guess she wanted something a bit deadlier than knives. Maybe a bazooka.

             
It was some small comfort to know this bothered her just as much as it did him.

             
Chris reached forward and laid a careful hand on her tense shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

             
He tried to sound something less than terrified, and was pretty proud of how well he managed it.

             
Sid turned to stare at him, her mouth drawn tight. She didn’t shake off his grip, so he started rubbing his thumb in small, anti-homicidal circles.

             
“It is not okay.” Her voice was taut as a half-pulled trigger. “There is nothing about the sum of all these parts that adds up to all right. The Higher Courts don’t just take an interest in some random mortal – ”

             
She broke off to stare at him. He continued his circles.

             
“What?”

             
“Who was your father?” she demanded. “Your mother?”

             
“My father was a factory worker and my mother is a waitress.” There had been a lot of cheese sandwiches in his childhood. “Nothing like what you’re thinking, I promise.”

             
But her eyes continued to be too intense and far too green. She reached up and grabbed his hand, yanking him forward in a brisk march.

             
“Where are we going now?” He hoped she knew.

             
“The Court Gate isn’t too far from here. That will tell me what I need to know.”

             
Chris hoped she didn’t mean that in any sort of direct conversational way, because he’d had his fill of odd chats. Still, by now he knew better than to stand in the way of Sid’s kind of determination. He let himself be pulled along. His hand was cool where she grasped it.

             
This time all she had to do was press a hand to her chest. There was light, and that feeling of weightlessness, and the forest changed again. Birds chattered at them from all sides, a cacophony of life despite the heavy blanket of snow.

             
Sid turned to face him.

             
In the scarce time he’d know her, Chris had thought of Sid as pale. He didn’t know what to call her skin now, gone white as a corpse and tinged with blue. It was stark against her black curls, almost as stark as the feathers that crowned her hairline and tangled themselves through her hair. Pure white feathers.

             
Her eyes were wide and staring.

             
“House of Owls,” Chris said dumbly, mostly to himself.

             
“House of Cats,” said Sid, like she might hurt someone.

Part III

              Sid had spent nine months in her mother’s womb, surrounded by magic and nurtured by a fae body. She was as much a fairy as any half-mortal could be, and her form reflected the world she walked in. As a mortal, Chris should not have changed. His eyes should not have gone amber and slit-pupiled. He maintained the rest of his mortal colors, but the eyes told a tale. As did his canines, sharp now and flashing behind his lips as he spoke.

             
She hadn’t been shepherding a mere mortal. To be sure, whatever blood he carried was weak, diluted by many generations. But it was
enough.

             
Sid should have been told. No matter how well she followed orders, she had a right to know. A right not to be gaping at Chris like a child being told how babies are made.

             
“What?” Chris asked. “What? Sid?”

             
“Don’t bite your tongue.”

             
He immediately did so, and grimaced. Sid had expected more yelping; she was begrudgingly impressed. Chris pressed a finger to his mouth and it came away red. At least he’d held onto that much.

             
“Oh,” he said, in a magnificent display of eloquence.

             
“I don’t think either of us got the full story.” Sid scowled. “At all.”

             
Chris’s grin was queasy. “You know, I never pegged anyone in my family as particularly pixie-like.”

             
“You could be generations removed from the source. The first in a long time to show true. It’s happened before.”

             
A long fucking time ago, but time was different for the Court, eras incidental. Chris, on the other hand, was staring straight ahead with the dedicated silence of one who had learned to panic quietly.

             
Sid was cruelly relieved to find he had a limit, but she didn’t need him out on that ledge.

             
“You’re not suddenly a monster,” she said, “or immortal, or anything else. A stray drop of blood makes you look weird in our land, and that’s all.”

             
He managed a wry smile. “I’m weird?”

             
Sid couldn’t say why she let him reach out and stroke a careful finger down one of her feathers. It was a strange intimacy, one that sent shivers down into her skin.

             
“You’re lucky you don’t have a tail,” she told him, then checked to make sure.

             
“So what’s this change?” he asked.

             
“I may have been off in my assumptions about what the queen is after.” Not the nice butt, probably. “The House of Cats prefers to keep track of their own. Their House produces few knights, so they probably called in a Queen’s favor to get me to fetch you.”

             
“Does that mean the Summer asshole makes anymore sense now?”

             
“It might. I’ll have to ask the lady of their house if there’s any standing grudges.”

             
Not a duty she relished the thought of, truth be told. The House of Cats was a gregarious, social family, as prone to grudges as forgiveness. Sid preferred to avoid their capricious pitfalls, but Chris deserved an explanation just as much as she craved one.

             
“And the…Higher Courts?”

             
Sid shivered for an entirely different reason. “That is a question I will pose to the queen directly.”

             
“Let me guess, we have to walk to her first.”

             
“No, actually.” Sid gestured to a nearby rock. “Have a seat. A friend of mine is expecting us.”

---

              There was no one in the world more reliable than Juniper, a knight from a long line of knights. Her house was Pines, as strong and dependable as they were prone to on-the-nose naming. She was Sid’s dearest and oldest friend, a true sight for sore eyes. Especially considering the spare horse she led.

             
“Oi!” Juniper shouted as soon as she spotted them through the trees. “Welcome home!”

             
A better welcome, now. Juniper looked Chris up and down as she drew close to them.

             
“This is the queen’s new lover?” she asked.

             
“I think the situation has changed,” said Sid.

             
“He does look a bit funny, doesn’t he?” Juniper jumped down from her horse and thrust out a hand. “It’s a pleasure.”

             
Chris accepted her hearty handshake, and was smart enough not to wince at her testing grip. “Likewise. My name’s Chris.”

             
Juniper introduced herself, all smiles. Her whole family was as brown as bark, and Juniper held true to their wild hair, dark green and eternally tangled. She kept hers wrestled into two thick braids.

             
And she was tall, damn her.

             
Sid braced herself for the hug Juniper swept her into. She made the expected noises about her feet leaving the ground, but it felt good to be home. On top of that, it felt strangely right to have Chris there, next to someone Sid had known for her entire life. It made him feel more real.

             
Juniper finally returned Sid to terra firma, snow crunching under her boots.

             
“Hope you don’t mind the one horse. I didn’t figure a mortal would know how to ride, these days.”

             
“You figured pretty correctly,” Chris said, eyeing the placid horse with deep, unfair suspicion.

             
“You want me to take him?” Juniper asked.

             
Sid shook her head. “Between the two of you, you’d flatten the poor horse. And what would Melly say?”

             
“I’m sure she’d invite the poor bastard in for tea.”

             
Swinging herself up into the saddle was a comfort. Safer here than behind the wheel of something with no brain and no instincts. Sid reached a hand down to Chris.

             
“Just hop up behind me.”

             
After a few false starts, Juniper politely muffling her laughter, their combined efforts got him onto the horse. Chris was surprisingly broad this close; his warmth covered her back and his arms wrapped easily around her waist. As she took up the slack in the reigns, she idly noted that his biceps could use work. They’d take care of that.

             
Juniper set a forgiving pace. They’d still be to the borders of the Winter Court within a day, but hopefully without any undue suffering for Chris. If they were careful of teeth and tongues, they could even talk.

             
“Quick question,” said Chris, a bit nervous but otherwise holding up well. “Why aren't I cold? I mean, I’m chilly, but. I really should be well on my way to hypothermia by now.”

             
“There is magic in place to protect mortals,” Sid said. “You haven’t felt hungry since we crossed over, either.”

             
“I wager your blood helps it along,” added Juniper. “You’re a hardier soul than we usually snatch.”

             
The noise Chris made was agreeable, but not very supportive. “And where are we going, specifically?”

             
“My family’s estates are on the edge of Court territory,” Juniper said.

             
Sid was very, very well aware of the state of her hoodie. “We need to change, and magic or not I’d like to eat, and to sleep in a warm bed tonight. You’re to be presented to the queen, but first we have to make sure you’re presentable.”

             
Juniper, eager to be home, kicked her horse into a gentle trot.

---

              The House of Pines itself was a sprawling manor, made of stone but lovingly covered in plaster and timber. The stables, kennels, and mews were extensive; Sid heard the animals even before a servant took their horses.

             
Sid helped Chris down, though their mutual heights made it awkward. He’d learn, in time.

             
They trekked through the snow, a gentle dusting now falling from the darkening sky, making their way to the main house. A woman came out to meet them, tall and rangy, pale in every aspect. She did, in fact, have a tail, though it was hidden away under her dress.

             
“Melly!” Juniper cried, sweeping her wife into her arms and kissing her thoroughly.

             
Sid averted her eyes, as she’d been doing since their collective youth. Chris met her gaze and tried to be casual. Sid cracked a smirk, relieved just to have someone to stand awkwardly with.

             
After a time, Juniper and Melly broke off their reunion. Melly greeted Sid, another warm hug, and introduced herself to Chris with natural ease. Sid could tell he was charmed; most people were.

             
“You both look like an absolute mess,” said Melly. “Let’s get you back into civilization.”

             
Whatever Melly thought about the mortal realm, it certainly wasn’t her idea of civilization. The House of Pines hardly was either, as far as Melly’s family was concerned. Melly had taken a social blow and a step down in luxury, marrying Juniper. Sid knew she was determined not to give a damn.

             
Melly chatted easily as she led them through the house, pointing out this and that. Juniper was her parents’ eldest, and until they quit Court life this house was Melly and Juniper’s pride, their domain. They had hundreds of years to spend in it yet.

             
Sid had to admit some small slice of jealousy. She had three older sisters, a room in four houses and claim to none. She was attached to Court, but not particularly fond of its politics. Her marriage prospects were as low as her desire to expand her social circle. In her most cynical moments, she figured the best thing she could do for her family was die gloriously on the field of battle.

             
“This will be Chris’s room.” Melly paused with her hand on the lintel. “Should I send someone up to help you with the bath and such?”

             
‘And such’ meant that she didn’t trust him to get dressed by himself. With mortals now adapted to blue jeans, she probably wasn’t too far off the mark.

             
“That’d be great,” Chris agreed easily, and they left him behind to his new education.

             
Almost immediately, Melly hooked an arm through Sid’s and grinned conspiratorially down at her. “He is quite the handsome one, isn’t he?”

             
“He’s trouble,” said Sid.

             
“
Handsome
trouble.”

             
Sid looked to Juniper for rescue.

             
“House of Cats, is it?” Juniper made a musing noise, stroked an imaginary beard. “Well, they’ll want to keep an eye on him, but I don’t think they’d object to you taking him off their hands from time to time.”

             
Sid rolled her eyes. “Where’s my room, again?”

---

              The bath was excellent. The clothes were marvelous. Whoever Melly had sent to Chris, they’d certainly known their business. He looked excellent in green, and the simple tunic and trousers suited him though there’d been no time to tailor. They dined in privacy in Juniper’s study, a room lined with maps, armor, and weapons. And, here and there, pieces of needlepoint that Juniper and Melly had finished between them.

             
The food was divine, but Juniper had obviously been away from home just as long as Sid had. She and Melly were totally absorbed in each other, which left Chris to his own devices and Sid to entertain him.

             
“Does it always snow here?”

             
“More or less. When the queen grows particularly bored we’ll have a short spring, but you’re not likely to see it. I, for one, am not a fan.”

             
“No?”

             
He leaned toward, met her gaze and kept it. Anyone else she might have accused of boredom or insincerity, but he seemed honestly interested. Well, she was the only source of information he had right now. Likely as not, he’d find someone more interesting than a travelling knight to chat up once they got to the palace proper.

             
“Winter is more comfortable. It bolsters us. Spring is an itch. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just unpleasant.”

             
“But some people like to scratch,” he said.