Enchanted Ever After (Mystic Circle) (11 page)

BOOK: Enchanted Ever After (Mystic Circle)
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“Here, miss, grab hold,” she thought a fireman said. Her ears still rang with thunder and cracking lightning and screams and sirens.

He stood on a jutting piece of metal that was now the top of the bus and had a harness on and looked safe and solid and wonderful. She leaned out and he grabbed her arms, then her torso. “Thanks!”

He nodded. “You’re welcome.” He set her aside and shouted, “Anyone else?”

“No, I’m it.” That was pretty much all she knew. Her mind didn’t seem to be working. Especially not if she’d seen Lathyr, then didn’t. A horrible smell wafted in the air and she shuddered, and couldn’t stop.

“Here, Kiri.” That
was
Jenni Emberdrake. Kiri stumbled to her. People were huddled together under space blankets, cops were taking notes, firemen were working around the bus and one of the news trucks pulled up. A disaster area.

Kiri rubbed her head, then saw a body bag out of the corner of her eye. “No!”

But it was “yes.” She’d helped but not enough. She realized the awful smell was burned person. Not something she’d ever forget.

Death surrounded her.

Chapter 12

“LET’S GET YOU
home,” Jenni said.

“Shouldn’t I talk to the cops?” Kiri said vaguely.

“Do you want to? Is there anything you can say that others can’t?”

“No.”

Jenni nodded, opened the door to a gleaming black car, and Kiri ducked inside. She didn’t slide so well on the warm leather seat, though.

“We’ll head for the Castle,” Jenni said.

“What Castle?” Shouldn’t she know? Her thoughts felt thick, dull, slow. Slower since she’d gotten into the car.

“Mystic Circle’s Castle.”

“Oh. Why?”

“We’re gathering there. Lathyr lives there now.”

Kiri wasn’t about to mention that she thought she’d seen the guy and he’d disappeared. “Oh.”

“Are you all right? Maybe we should get you looked at.”

“No, I’m fine.” Kiri wasn’t sure.

And when Jenni took her hand a spark jumped between them and Kiri strove to stay conscious.

“Is she all right?” a deep voice asked from the front, Jenni’s husband, Aric.

“I put her under.” Jenni sighed.

Did Jenni think that? How could she believe she could slip Kiri into unconsciousness? But the effort to comment was too difficult. Jenni pushed Kiri’s wet hair back from her face, drying it as she did. Felt really good. Kiri moaned.

Jenni said, “It didn’t take much. We’ll have a healer look at her.”

Aric said, “Sounds fine. Queen Greendepths is at the Castle.”

Queen Greendepths. Kiri must have fallen asleep and the bus and everything was all a game. That would be good.

She awoke as she was placed on a comfortable leather couch, and grabbed Aric’s hand, scanned his serious-as-usual face, then her gaze went to her filthy fingers clutching his well-manicured ones. “It wasn’t a game, was it?”

“No.”

“People died.”

He clenched his jaw. “Yes. We didn’t anticipate—” His mouth clamped shut.

Horror invaded her. She sat straight, feeling every bruise. “You didn’t have anything to do with this! Eight Corp?” How could that be?

His fingers grasped hers and his green gaze was steady. “No. We didn’t.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. “Of course not.” She looked wildly around for her bag—there it was, smeared and dirty and sad. “I need my phone.” She pointed a forefinger at her tote. With an efficiency of movement Aric handed it to her.

Her calendar popped up with “Fairies and Dragons in one-point-five hours with Mystic Circle Gang.” She swallowed hard. That wouldn’t happen, but she had to at least sound calm when she called Shannon and Averill. She scrolled to the schedule they’d given her. They’d be out all evening at another tour of the birthing facilities. That was good, and the center was southwest, so they should completely miss any traffic problems. But she wasn’t sure when they might hear of the accident. They
would
know it was a bus that she might have taken home.

Kiri coughed her tears away and wiped her face on the arm of her hoodie, sucked in a deep breath and tapped to connect to Shannon’s number. Went straight to voice mail. Another blessing. “Hey, it’s Kiri. First, I’m absolutely okay and home, don’t worry! Yeah, there was a bus accident and I was on it, but am really fine. You have a good look at that birthing center. Don’t call, ’cuz I want to soak a long time in a bath and then go straight to sleep. Love and smooches to Averill. Bye.”

Jenni walked in. “Do you want to go home? We’d like you to stay here for the evening, for company and—”

“Observation?” Kiri asked.

“Yes. We promise to keep you warm and feed you and have someone look at your bumps and bruises.”

Kiri looked around at the luxury, thought of the three pieces of furniture in her living room, her high-tech computer setup and the cheap futon in her bedroom.

“There’s a spa tub in several of the rooms,” Aric said.

“Sold,” Kiri said. She rose from the couch and felt creaky and cruddy, glanced down at her clothes. Her fav Fairies and Dragons tee that she’d hate now. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“Amber will get more clothes from your house.”

“Thanks. Don’t want these, ever again.” Kiri plucked at her hoodie. Her voice was croaky, too. Creaky, croaky and cruddy, what a mess she was.

“Come along.” Jenni put her arm around Kiri and she didn’t mind leaning on the taller woman. “How’s Lathyr?” Kiri asked.

“He’s fine,” Jenni said.

“That’s a lie.” Somehow Kiri knew it, too much concern in Jenni’s voice for a man she’d been a shade distant to every time Kiri had seen them together. “Oh, my God. Did I just say that out loud? Sorry, so sorry.” She wanted to huddle but the only place was against Jenni.

“You’re not thinking straight, and no wonder.” Now Aric soothed. “Let’s get you to a place where you can clean up. There’s a tower room with a view of the Circle and your house.”

His charm derailed her mind. He picked her up like a child and marched up the stairs and they entered a round room with a tub that gushed out steamy water.

Her memories went fuzzy after that. She thought she recalled looking over dark treetops to the small dark block of her house, and wept again. She barely recalled different clothes and a good, tasty, hearty dinner before she was stuck in the corner of the sofa and fell asleep again.

* * *

Lathyr thrashed to consciousness. Not in ocean! His bilungs pumped in fear.

Easy.
The mental comment was more than a word, a command backed up by a wash of comfort.
You live. You will recover completely.

The woman—must be a healer—swam into view. Gorgeous. Voluptuous figure, the lightest green skin he’d seen, scale pattern in stunning pale blue, beautiful face with dark green eyes. His heart stuttered.

He’s awake. You’ve done your duty. Let’s go.

Lathyr recognized that sneer, Marin Greendepths, King of Water. Lathyr backswam until he bumped into the wall of the tank. Tank!

Bubbles frothed from the merfem’s lips in a sigh as she swam toward the porthole high in the chamber.

Saltwater tank. Chamber. Memory smashed like a tsunami. He was in the Castle, in Mystic Circle, Denver, middle of the United States, the North American continent.

Petrol! He nearly lost the frame of his tailed merform again at the remembrance of agony.

Kiri?
he managed, even as his gaze attached to the lush and beautifully patterned tail of the merfem.

She glanced over her shoulder with a sincere smile
. She is well, also. As are the rest of the staff of Eight Corp and Mystic Circle.

Let’s go!
demanded the Water King.

On my way, dear. We need to talk a little,
replied the merfem, and knowledge clunked into Lathyr’s brain. He’d been tended by the best Waterfolk healer, the Water Queen herself. The king’s anger washed toward him in waves. He formed a defensive bubble.

The queen flipped through the porthole, and her hair wafted aside, showing the small points of her ears. Shock rippled through Lathyr. The Water Queen was part elf.

Like he was.

An inimical glare from her mate had him stilling into immobility, then the king kissed his wife deeply, looked into her eyes, smoothed his hand over her hair.
We’ll talk. Later.

The Water royals vanished and Lathyr wondered what punishment the king would think to inflict upon him. And how he could go about learning of the Water Queen’s heritage.

Looks like you made an enemy.
Jenni Weavers Emberdrake looked through the glass window, and he swam close only to see her frowning face.

He is not pleased I met the queen,
Lathyr said, emotions mixed. Trepidation, curiosity. He did know the new Fire Princess wasn’t strong enough to shield him from the Water King’s displeasure. The water around Lathyr seemed too cold and he shivered. He’d have to be extremely careful in asking about the Water Queen.

Marin allows his emotions to rule him more than is wise,
said a crisp telepathic voice, and Jenni’s face at the window was replaced by the Air King’s, Cloudsylph’s.

Lathyr flourished his most elaborately courteous bow.

Cloudsylph’s pale lips turned upward at the corners. He inclined his head toward Lathyr.
Well done, Sir Tricurrent.

Another little jolt, that the Air King recognized and accepted Lathyr’s minor title. Perhaps, perhaps, he would survive this contretemps.

The Water King didn’t want you—Lathyr—to meet his queen?
Jenni sounded curious, too.

Cloudsylph shrugged.
A minor matter.

Lathyr didn’t think so. Perhaps his feelings projected too strongly because the king’s forehead showed a crease.
I will remind Marin that you did not call for the queen to heal you.

Lathyr is a hero!
Jenni’s comment snapped with heat.

Lathyr moved back from the window.

He saved a busload of people!

Lathyr figured that saving humans meant little to the Lightfolk royals.

He did well in bringing the battle to the shadleeches and destroying them,
Cloudsylph agreed
. I am not pleased that our building and our people and our projects have been targeted by the Darkfolk.

Tiring of being in the tank, Lathyr did a stretching swim circling the room to test his health, then exited the tank in his legged form in time to hear Jenni reply.

“So far as we know, it’s only one great Dark one.”

“So far as we know,” Cloudsylph agreed. “I will speak with the other royals regarding these threats—that a great Dark one is in Denver, spying on Mystic Circle and our building and targeting Eight Corp employees. I believe the great Dark ones and their minions are more dangerous than we originally thought.” With a background as a warrior, the Air King would tend to think that. The royal caught sight of Lathyr and gave him a slight inclination of his torso. “As I said earlier, you did well.”

Lathyr bowed again. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

The king’s light blue gaze went to Jenni, who’d retreated from the puddles of the water corridor to the main room. “The transformation project is third on our list of priorities, but it
is
important. There is no sign that Lightfolk fertility has suddenly increased with the advent of more magic in the world. So to keep our numbers up and the power we wield strong, we remain in favor of Princess Emberdrake’s current solution to the problem of increasing the Lightfolk. I will remind Marin of this.” A brief but wide smile flashed across Cloudsylph’s face, and he sent Lathyr a glance before looking at Jenni again. “I believe I can convince Marin that Sir Tricurrent’s status as a staff member to you, Princess Emberdrake, is punishment enough for discomfiting the Water King.”

There was meaning sighing behind the Air King’s words, but Lathyr couldn’t grasp it yet.

He bowed. “I thank you.”

Jenni snorted. Then she stared at him. “You’re still looking a little puny. I’ll send the brownies over with a feast—” she slid her gaze to Cloudsylph, smiled “—fit for a Water King, and then you, Lathyr, should spend the night in the pool or something.” She waved grandly as if she thought that was a royal gesture.

He bowed to her, too, and didn’t feel too steady on his feet.

With one last nod, the Air King disappeared.

Jenni’s breath whooshed out.

“Kiri?” Lathyr asked.

“She’s okay. She was a little confused, and after I put her to sleep, she might be more confused, since I blurred her memory some, for her own sake as well as ours.” Now Jenni looked grim. “The television newscasters are all over the damn incident. A couple of the channels are starting investigations. I guess they think the driver of the bus should have pulled over or something, poor bastard. He’s dead.”

“How many more?”

“Rush hour, bad storm, so the bus was packed before it left downtown. Six.”

Anger stirred inside Lathyr. He hadn’t spent much time in human company for a while, but the ones he knew, he liked.

“Anyway, Kiri will probably remain confused until she is transformed.” Jenni’s lips flattened. “Game can get mixed up with reality, you know.”

“You think she can be transformed and will choose to be,” he said.

“Don’t you?”

“She certainly has the greatest potential I’ve seen.”

“She did fabulously well today.” Jenni’s eyes narrowed, she crossed her arms and her fingers drummed on her opposite biceps. “So Transformation is number three of a priority. You don’t know why the Water King would be mad at you?”

Lathyr considered his words. Enough to give her a push in the right direction, but be discreet. “He is not pleased that I came to the attention of the Water Queen.”

“Why not?”

“Because she also has a mixed nature, I believe. She has pointed ears, so she must have a tiny thread of air elemental in her bloodline. I didn’t know that before tonight. I thought all of the Eight royals had to be fully one element.”

“Huh,” Jenni said. “Amber’s the genealogist. I wonder how she’d feel about setting up a Lightfolk database. Or the old elf scholar, Etesian, might know something.” Then Jenni scowled. “You’re weaving on your feet. Go to bed—to the pool.”

“Kiri is here.” He felt her.

Jenni raised her brows. “Yes, she is. Fully human Kiri. You’re still in legged-mer form. Can you change to fully human and dress yourself?”

Lathyr cringed at the thought. He didn’t want human lungs or skin. He didn’t want cloth coverings. The effort it would take to change and maintain the form in Denver’s dry air would be great. He turned and walked away, disappointment at not seeing Kiri in every lagging step to the pool.

* * *

Kiri sat in the drawing room of the Castle, near the fire, supposedly warming up. Though she was dry, the chill of fear still permeated the marrow of her bones as she considered what might be true and what false.

Lathyr had been hurt. She was sure of that, though not the why or how. Just that he’d done something during the whole bus situation that had helped her and the others, but had hurt himself. Tears for him clogged her throat. She pummeled her memory, but she’d missed something and her recollection of details remained foggy.

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