Rise of the Magi (11 page)

“He doesn’t deserve your worry,” Liam said in a clipped tone, his focus forward as if he couldn’t bear to look at me. I opened my mouth to tell him off, or possibly apologize for thinking about my former captain, but he cut me off with an, “I’m sorry.” His sigh held regret and a hint of the same exhaustion that seemed to be making the rounds. “It drives me crazy that he can still hurt you, and he isn’t even here. I know you cared for him, and I know how much it ripped you up when he admitted loving your power and status and not you. Frankly, it’ll be hard for me not to deck him if I ever lay eyes on the slimy weasel again.”

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that, and Neve saved me from having to respond by throwing open the door and taking up her position just inside, giving us room to enter.

“Showtime,” I said.

“Knock ‘em dead, babe.” Liam kissed my hand, and we stepped into a din that came to an abrupt halt.

Gallagher stood at the head of the table amongst quite a crowd of restless natives, appearing more himself than he had a few moments before. “May I present Lila Gray and Liam Kane, king and queen of the fae.”

“Lila!” Willa bounded out of the group, wearing a simple tan peasant-style dress beneath her sealskin draped around her shoulders, and threw her arms around me.

I braced myself and held her with equal enthusiasm. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”

“Why do the selkie get first greeting rights?” A thick boulder of a man with a black brush cut gestured to us, wearing nothing but a pair of dirty shorts around his wide hips. He had to be a troll. Not exactly what I’d imagined one would look like, but nobody else appeared as if they’d crawled out of a mountain before arriving.

Willa stepped back wearing a sheepish grin. “Oops.”

Yeah, oops was right. To Liam, I thought,
“Please tell me this doesn’t mean I have to play hug and kissy face with everyone now because of some protocol bullshit?”

“Afraid so. Pucker up, buttercup.”
His amused tone didn’t help my mood any.

I groaned internally and forced out some semblance of a professional smile. If I had such a thing. “We meant no offence,” I said. “Greetings to you all. Here, in this room, we’re all equals, working against a mutual threat. It’s just that Willa and I are old friends, though that will have no bearing on this meeting. Please, can we all sit down and get started?” Well, didn’t I almost sound like I knew what I was doing?

Gallagher came to me and cleared his throat. “On that, we might have a little problem.” He spoke above the murmurs rippling through the group.

“There’s a problem with sitting? I can’t stand all night in these blasted shoes, Gallagher.”

“There isn’t room at the table for everyone.” Liam surveyed the facilities. “The problem isn’t sitting, per se, it’s who will have the privilege of sitting at the table, am I right?”

I tilted up to look at him with a swell of pride puffing out my chest. Not that it needed any more puffing out. “Now whose big girl panties are showing? Uh … boy … um … shorts.” It didn’t have quite the same ring to it.

He laughed and pulled me forward. “Let’s make an example of how us civilized folks can compromise.”

A little in awe of my take-charge man, I let him lead me to the table.

10

“Excuse me, everyone.” Liam pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit in it, which I did. “I’m deferring my right to a seat to my wife, Lila, who will speak on behalf of the fae in this matter.”

A three-foot-nothing, blue man wearing a lumpy, plaid lumber jacket hopped up on one of the chairs. He gawked back and forth between Liam and me. His hair, a wiry nest of dark blue curls, stood out above his ears, making me imagine I could pick him up by the ankles and dust the artwork with him. I had to guess wood elf since nobody else in the room fit the description Gallagher had once given me when I was only half listening.

“Why would you willingly defer?” the elf asked. “You are a man, and she a woman.”

I tensed to rise, and my mouth opened to tell him just what I thought of that when Liam’s hands on my shoulders pressed me back in place.

He growled deep inside his thoughts, loud enough I caught an echo of it through our link. “This woman is the one who’s going to save all of us, Grenick. Her being female does not diminish her right to lead, so if you want to be part of this then you will pay her the respect she deserves.”

I smiled, my come-closer-and-I’ll-eat-you smile, at the tiny man, who continued to stare as if we’d just pulled dancing monkeys out of our nostrils. I had to admit it was kind of nice having my own personal knight-in-shining-armor at my back.

Gallagher gestured toward the door. “Any who will not be at this table may watch and listen via closed circuit television from the next room. We do not wish to exclude anyone, only deliver the information in as orderly a fashion as possible. Too many voices make it difficult to be heard.”

A brunette across the room shot a pointed look at the brute of a man beside her, who sighed, nodded, and went out the door. It appeared as if Liam had solved their debate, too.

She sat on the chair opposite me, arranging a blue skirt around her knees. Her eyes, an odd shade of purple, flickered as if flames danced behind them. “Meline, of the Toronto coven. I’ll be speaking for the witches and warlocks. I’ve heard so much about you, and I’m stoked to find it true.” Her knowing smile brought heat to my cheeks.

My brow jacked up as I tried to rub the prickle of her magic from my skin. I almost asked her what she meant by that, what she’d heard and found true about me, but more butts fell into seats, stealing my attention.

James from the Canadian Mounted Police took a spot to my left in his typical rumpled, brown suit, a red plaid tie askew on his neck. Someone needed to give that guy some fashion sense. Maybe I could lend him one of our seamstresses for a day to spiff him up a bit like they’d done to me. His light brown hair had been cut short, though. At least that part of him appeared in order.

“You’re looking rather rounder than the last time I saw you,” James said with his usual light-hearted smirk.

“Yeah, shut up with the fat talk, or I’ll pop you one.” I said it all through a smile as he laughed. His lieutenant, Bethany Ross, pierced me with a stare before striding toward the door.

One of the Feds—Richard—a tall black man in a light gray suit with a shaved head took the seat beside Meline. “I’m part of this coalition, and I’ll hear this for myself.” He glanced around the table, ending on James, his eyes daring anyone to challenge.

I cocked a brow at him. “You two don’t share info, James?”

“Nope.” James sighed. “The Feds don’t trust a soul who isn’t their own.”

I had a hunch that if I tried to remove Richard, it would be by force, so I said, “Fine, since you’re from different countries, you can both stay. Cause me any grief,”—I met both of their stares one by one—“either of you, and you’re out of here.”

Mountain Man barked something in a foreign language, as Grenick, the wood elf, stood at the chair to Witch’s right. Next to him, Willa plopped down, looking grateful to be alive, while Quinn and the rest of her company exited. Parthalan took the chair to my right, and Mountain Man ended up beside him, still cursing about the humans. Liam went and stood with Cas and Neve by the door, while Andrew remained about a foot behind me, his heated presence scorching my back.

Gallagher took the final seat at the head of the table.

“Why do the fae get two seats?” Mountain Man asked, smacking his fist against the polished black table.

I could have sworn Gallagher rolled his eyes before saying, “I am but a facilitator for this meeting. A deliverer of facts Lila may not be entirely privy to. If it comes to decision-making, I will step aside and allow my queen to speak for me, as is our way, always.” He directed a deadly, clouded glare at the troll. “Does that satisfy you, Moug?”

James seemed to relax into the conversation; however, his U.S. counterpart, Richard, looked about as comfortable as a bleeding rabbit on a cheetah’s dinner plate. Regretting my decision to let the Fed stay, I caught Liam’s eye and silently relayed my worry.

He nodded and whispered to Cas. Andrew stirred behind me, moving close enough his shadow sent a chill over me.

“So, what’s this threat, then?” Grenick steepled his fingers together beneath his pointed chin. It appeared an odd gesture from a three foot lumberjack.

Gallagher stared at me, and I nodded, understanding. It was safer for everyone if he did the talking—no point denying my size eight would be fully in my mouth before I could finish a sentence. He cleared his throat, sitting a little straighter as if my deference had injected him with confidence. It hadn’t occurred to me what my trust meant to him until that moment. I needed to remind him more often how much I depended on him and valued his presence.

“How many of you have heard of the Magi, or the Old Ones, as the dark elves once called them?” Gallagher asked.

Willa shifted in her seat. Her fingers worried over a strand of long, sable hair. She’d been beaten almost to death when the Magi tried to steal her seal skin, and the selkies lost five others before her. The Magi had also been holding the leash on Alastair and the Shadowborn, who had killed Quinn’s father.

More whispers sailed across the room, but nobody admitted any personal experience.

“Why did the dark elves only once call them the Old Ones?” Grenick asked, spinning a button on his jacket. “Why do you speak of our cousins in the past tense?”

“Because they’re all dead save one,” I said, “killed by the Magi in the most heinous way possible.” Technically, I’d done the killing part, but I didn’t see the need to voice that.

Everyone came forward in their chairs, eyes wide, except for the Fed. Richard shrank back and continued to scan the rest of us with wary, chocolate brown eyes.

“Gone?” Willa shrieked. “All of them? But what of Freymoor Wood?”

“Razed to the ground.” Gallagher delivered the blow.

Willa’s hand went to her mouth before she squared her shoulders and composed herself. “And they meant to take us next, then? And if yeh hadn’t … the selkies would’ve fallen, too.”

“Destroyed how?” Moug the mountain man asked with little interest. His stub finger tapped on the table, suggesting boredom.

“Yeah,” James said, jabbing his thumb at Moug, “what he said.”

I sighed, wondering how to say it so it wouldn’t sound ridiculous. “They were kind of … consumed … by trees.”
Oh, brilliant, Lila.

Parthalan jerked in his seat before growing death-still, his face unreadable.

Before I could find out why, the Fed burst out in laughter. “Consumed by trees? You can’t be serious.”

The witch gave him the best evil glare I’d ever seen, the flames in her eyes burning brighter. “You think this is a joke? How dare you make light of the extinction of a race.”

Gallagher knocked on the table. “Might I suggest we get the rest of the facts out in the open so we can decide the best defence against the Magi?”

“Yes,” Grenick said in a near whisper. Head tilted forward, he coaxed a lock of his wiry hair away from his too-large almond-shaped eyes—the only similarity to the dark elves that I could see. “What are these Magi creatures? And what did they have against Freymoor Wood?”

“They are dryads, the true children of the Goddess herself,” Gallagher said over the top of another bout of mumbling from the Fed. “They are all females, and no, we do not know how many we face, only that they are highly intelligent, motivated and care nothing for life other than that of their own children and the forest. They seem to have control over all manners of green life, and have stolen magic from other sources, though we do not know for what purpose. Lila felt something in the air when she went to Freymoor during the attack, so it could be used to create a ward of some kind.”

All gazes were glued to Gallagher, most mouths drawn into tight lines, except for Richard, who continued to shake his head.

“They are also said to be the distant mothers of human life,” Gallagher continued, “though how many generations removed they are, I do not know.”

Richard’s fist slammed down on the table as he shot to his feet. “That’s it! I can’t listen to this anymore. I am a Christian! My life came from God, and for you to say otherwise is blasphemy.”

The peanut gallery erupted in conversation and shouts, including Meline, the witch.

My eyes flew wide, mirroring Gallagher’s. I hadn’t considered human religion and what Gallagher’s revelation might mean to the masses that remained. Neither had he, apparently.

“What now?” I mouthed at him.

He shrugged and stood, trying unsuccessfully to shush everyone. As Richard strode away from the table, he dismissed us with a wave of his arm.

I stood. “Wait just a damn minute. We’re not here to shake your beliefs or try to change them. We’re trying to save you from a cruel death and, quite frankly, I don’t give a round royal fuck if you think you were hatched out of a dragon egg. If you walk away now, you’re on your own.”

Instead of smacking sense into everyone like I’d hoped, the arguments grew louder.
Why do I even try?
I turned to Gallagher. “Do something.”

A smile broke across his lips, but he rushed away before I could smack it off him or find out what it was for.

Andrew moved in to hover at my right. Liam and the rest stood tensed at the door in case the ones watching from the next room decided to rejoin the party. To the rest of the table participants, I said, “I’ll be right back. Please don’t leave.”

11

Gallagher threw open the door to the meeting room. There stood Laerni in a frothy white dress, her head tilted down. Trevor, my favorite red-headed guard who played poker with us every Saturday night, stood behind her. Face grim, he nodded to me before retreating. Bandages wrapped Laerni’s arms and ankles, where the vines had wounded her the worst. It appeared as if the rest had healed.

“I cannot possibly convey how happy I am you’re here,” Gallagher said. “Are you certain you’re well enough?”