Foul is Fair (24 page)

The tarnished figure turned. The empty eyes stared.

“Riocard, I didn't—” the haunted whispers began.

“Of course you didn't, old friend,” the chocolatey voice said calmly. His smile was easy, too easy.

The Gray Lady stood blankly for a moment, then left in silence, her lights flickering around her.

Riocard remained silent for a moment, staring at the door.

“Are you going looking for her?” Megan asked. “To stop her or…or arrest her...?” Though nobody seemed to stay arrested around here.

“Of course not. I can't go running out of my own audience. And revenge is just inefficient for people like us. Besides, she's always been in pain. I … can guess a little, at how it must feel,” he said slowly, with a look at Megan that was the closest she'd seen on him to worried. “But of course, I have hopes to never know for sure what real grief, real loss, feels like.” He smiled. “It just wouldn't be my style.”

Megan was still reflecting on all this when her father spoke again. “Justin of Ludlow.”

"Your Majesty," Justin replied, stepping forward, and dropping to one knee, head bowed.

"I've come to understand that you put yourself at great risk helping to carry out my daughter's plan. Now, just to be certain, you do understand you'd already paid off all obligation to Faerie and its royalty, yes?"

"I do, Your Majesty."

"Then why return? You've no kin here."

"I need no kin involved to protect the world," he paused, "Or Megan or Lani. They've helped me."

"And it's what a brave knight would do, yes?"

"I'm no knight, not even quite old enough, but I'd like to think so."

"Age is just a number—albeit a very large number in some of our cases. I've known plenty of humans who called themselves knights. Most of them had neither your conviction nor courage. That's good enough for me." He drew the jeweled sword, pondering it, and finally stood. "Now, let's see, I've seen Orlaith do this plenty of times." He glanced at Ashling. "How did that first part go?"

"By the Power of Grayskull," she offered helpfully.

"Ah, yes," Riocard answered with a smile, returning his attention to Justin. "By right of being king, and the power entrusted to me by the court, I declare your trials at an end. You are a knight of two realms, and one of the few mortals welcome in Faerie. You are now Sir Justin of Ludlow." He tapped the sword on each of Justin's shoulders. "Or Seattle, if you like. I do recommend the place. Now, rise. You have a lot of...knightly...things...to do, yes. Start with fetching the Claiomh Solais. It has better things to do, and it would be rather inconvenient for those without the sheath to try to get it, even if I had another proper human on hand, which I don't. Besides, you've proven yourself capable. I think you should keep it."

Justin's eyes went wide, glancing at the sheath. Then he bowed. "Of course, Majesty," he responded, before rising to his feet.

“Good,” Riocard said as he sat again, gesturing with casual dismissal. “You'll fit in fine, clearly having plenty of court experience. We're just like any other court, only more so.”

Justin nodded as he backed away, and started looking around at the court.

Riocard moved on, gesturing to Cassia. Cassia stepped up, flanked by the leopards. Maxwell looked somewhat more of a twin for his brother than usual, decked out in head bandaging, expertly applied by Kerr. The satyr bowed before Riocard.

"I've been hearing rumors you caused quite the stir yesterday," he offered her, with a grin. "The healers have been working through the night." A pause, before he added, "Well done."

"Thank you. I live to serve."

"No doubt, then, you'll be glad to hear you get to keep on serving. I trust you won't mind giving the Princess a hand now and then, seeing as you're neighbors?"

Cassia glanced at Megan and grinned. "No problem at all."

"Good, then go have a chat with the Huntsman and have him get the Wild Hunt ready. I've heard you and the hounds got acquainted already, so you won't mind leading the hunt, as soon as your companions are suitably healed. Tell him that I said you get to pick the subject of the hunt."

Megan suddenly felt very sorry for someone or something, but wasn't about to ask. Cassia grinned savagely, gesturing for the leopards to follow as she turned and walked out of the room.

Lani followed, taking her turn as Riocard paid his debts without once mentioning obligations or favors. "Ahhh, not always one of my greatest fans," Riocard said with a smile. "Thank you."

"It was necessary," Lani replied, still looking tired, but pleased with the results of the day.

"Your family has always been very good with necessary. I can appreciate that. It sometimes sounds too tedious for me to quite comprehend, but it's good that someone is. And...yes, family. You're very close."

"We are," Lani agreed, looking a little more cautious.

"Commendable," Riocard said. "Then your father has the winter off, to see to whatever projects he likes. I think we can manage here. And your little brother...will fall under my earlier decree of protection as well. I trust that suits?"

Lani's caution turned to relief. Her shoulders slumped, and Megan could see her struggling to maintain her composure and not start tearing up. Megan wasn't quite sure why Lani'd gotten so quickly worried about Mack, but she rescued her friend, stepping up to give Lani a hug until Lani had a few seconds to compose herself. "Yes, yes. Thank you, Majesty," she responded.

"Oh, and then there's Kerr," Riocard began. "First and foremost, I think your friend has had quite enough stress and attention for the day. The next time you see Kerr, though, please pass on that I think a promotion is in order, should Kerr want to pick a kitchen to be in charge of." Lani nodded and stepped back.

Megan ascended the dais again, and was the only one close enough to hear Riocard addressing Ashling and the Count. "And the two of you? What would you like?"

Megan was startled, finally hearing him at least acknowledge a sense of indebtedness to anyone, but got the feeling that the intense loyalty of the pixie was returned.

"Caw, caw."

"Yes, Count, that can be arranged. I shall procure a bust of Pallas for my chambers forthwith." His gaze turned to the pixie.

"Make that two,” she said. “One for your room, and one for Megan's. Because I'm going back with Megan."

"You're certain? There is still the matter of the Ellén Trechend hunt left unfinished."

Ashling hesitated, then grinned. "Okay, so right after that, I'm going back. She can probably manage without me for a few days. But she has so much to learn. And I'm really good at explaining things."

"Of course you are, my friend. Of course you can go back. She'll need you."

Justin had still not left to fetch the sword. He was fidgeting slightly, staring at the far side of the room. A handful of sidhe women gathered not far from the door, talking amongst themselves.

Despite the lack of dress code, they were dressed in party finery in tones suitable for the season. Beyond the dresses, it was hard to truly differentiate them, for they all had the slightly alien beauty of the sidhe, a bit too perfect, with pale skin, eyes of impossibly bright blue or green, and hair the color of spun platinum. When they noticed Justin's looking, they smiled back in bright, manic unison.

Megan stepped off the dais to approach him. “What's wrong? You like the knight thing, right?”

“Yes. Very much. I'm proud to serve,” he said. “But I know a little too much about courts, and a good bit about the fair folk on top of it. The combination…I need a favor.”

“Okay, but favors get complicated, and Dad seems to be—”

“Not that kind of favor. I'm added to the court novelties. It would be… less awkward, easier to avoid offending some courtiers, if the Princess beat them to it.” He lowered himself to kneel again, this time to Megan. “May I have a token from you?”

Megan blushed. “A…token from me?”

“I know you. I trust you.”

“I…thanks. I trust you too.” Megan sort of understood, finally. In the movies, ladies gave 'their' knights scarves, embroidered things, or occasionally flowers. “But I don't have a handkerchief or anything.” She bit her lip for a moment, then grinned, stepping forward. "Sir Knight, I'm honored," she replied as she removed her Seahawks hat, placing it on Justin's head. He looked a little confused, but most of those watching just grinned, the platinum blonde sidhe ladies less so. "I hope that will do."

"Very nicely, my lady, thank you."

"And now that we're through all the knighting... just Megan, please."

"All right, my... Megan." he responded, rising again, eyes up towards the brim of the cap, still getting used to it.

“Great. Now go get your sword, so we can all go home tomorrow.”

Chapter 40: Private Performance

Megan was home on time on Sunday, just before dusk set in. She assured her mother that she'd had a great Halloween with Lani, and that she'd taken her medicine already. This was true; she’d had the lower dose, some much earlier, though her mother would also see fewer of the 'orange pills' if she looked. Vitamin C was healthy.

"Hey mom," she said, as her mother was leaving her room.

"Yes, honey?"

"I was kind of thinking about taking some music lessons."

“You are. Ms. Dahl. You still have an A, right?”

“Yes. I do, but Music Appreciation and Theory isn't exactly the same as, say, voice lessons.”

Her mother paused, looking at Megan for several long seconds before answering. "What brought this on? You already have your artwork."

"Well, I did a little bit of singing, just silly stuff over the holiday. I got a lot of compliments on my voice." She saw no signs of her mother's expression changing and quickly shifted tactics, "And it brought to mind that some of my teachers and the school counselor said I could use some things to kind of broaden my college applications. Never too early to start thinking about those, now that my grades are getting better. I figured, maybe, if I had a knack for it, I could take a few lessons, see about maybe joining the school choir.”

Her mother's expression softened. "So this would just be school things?"

"And just trying a few private lessons, yes," she assured her mother, guessing at the reasons for worry.

"Well, all right. We can look into it. I'll ask some friends who have done some vocal training. But this would be conditional—you need to keep up with your schoolwork."

"I have my reading for English class mostly done. I'll be ready for the test on Friday," Megan assured her mother. "I'm actually kind of enjoying it. Lani has really been helping with math class too. She's really, really good at it."

"I'm glad to hear it, honey.”

“Thanks. And Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can we put up Christmas lights this year?”

“Megan, it's November 1st. But maybe once it's actually December.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely not until December. Everything for the right season. Just thought I'd ask, thanks.”

“Good. You're welcome. I should let you get back to studying, then. Dinner will be ready in a little more than an hour.”

"I'll be ready for a break by then, thank you. And Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I love you."

"I love you too, Megan." She left, closing the door behind her.

Megan pulled the Late for the Party CD out of her bag, looking over the playlist a few moments, before tucking it back in her bag, to make sure she didn't absently start playing it at home like she was certain she would if it was kept in reach. After that, she found another CD from her collection and put some music on, quietly enough that it wouldn't bring her mother back into the room.

She cracked open the book, trying to moderate her impulses by rewarding herself for every ten minutes of reading with a bit of doodling in the margins, decorating the pages of
Romeo and Juliet
with dancing butterflies and moths and, eventually, a Queen butterfly with tattered wings, watching the dance from her crow-shaped royal throne.

Forty minutes later, with the page fully illuminated and multiple Verona residents dead, Megan needed some air. She stood, turned off the stereo, opened the window, and looked out into the twilight sky. Smelling the crisp Autumn air, she imagined she could feel the pull of Faerie. She closed her eyes, imagining different stars, imagining the low fog rolling in. She began to hum, keeping her voice low and soft.

Without opening her eyes, she trusted her memory of her room, moving through the steps of a complex dance again. The breeze picked up, and she would have sworn its whispers were singing along to the tune. When she opened her eyes, a dozen leaves had blown in through the window, laying flat on her bedroom floor.

She began to hum again, and the winds picked back up, carrying the leaves around in gentle eddies, circling and spinning as she recalled the notes. She stepped around in their midst, humming a little louder. The leaves whirled and danced around her feet, never quite touching her.