My brow tightened in the middle. Where’d they all go?

  “Hey,” Mike said, popping up out of nowhere. “Why the frown?”

  I shook off the adrenaline and gave him a little whack on the arm, almost knocking his bagel from his hands. “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” He laughed, filling his mouth. “So, why the long face?”

  “You all just … disappeared.”

  “Who?” He looked around the room, making a face like I was crazy. “’Cause the room looks pretty full to me.”

  “Ha-ha.” I backhanded him again. “I meant the Guard. My dad. Arthur.”

  “So?” He shrugged, stuffing the last of his bagel in his pie-hole, his cheek puffing on one side.

  “I don’t know,” I said softly, still kind of searching for them, or maybe for something else. I wasn't sure. “Something just seems really off about it.”

  He nudged my rib with his elbow. “I think you worry too much. Come on—” He grabbed my hand. “Let’s dance.”

  “I don't know the steps.”

  “Make some up,” he said casually, dragging me through the throngs to the dance floor.

  When we reached the centre, he tightly wrapped my waist and swept me against a body I knew well enough it could be an extension of my own, and what I knew or didn't know of the steps meant nothing in his arms. He led me around the floor like he’d danced to these songs every day since he was a child, and no one was any the wiser for our lack of instruction.

  “So,” he said ultra-casually. “I heard Jason left this arvo.”

  “Yeah.” I rolled my face upward to look into those warm caramel eyes, seeing my own reflected in them. “Why, you gonna cry?”

  He laughed, but it was half-hearted. “I was actually wondering how you feel about that—about him leaving?”

  I went to shrug but gave it more careful consideration instead. “I’m okay actually. I mean, he’s going on to better things, so I’m happy for him. Not sad for myself.”

  The uneasy look in his eye retreated and left a guarded smile behind. “Good.”

  ***

  The secret shortcut through the forest to the field gave me a much-needed moment of quiet. I untied the ribbon around my head and let my face breathe the crisp autumn air, fastening the mask to the loop in the side of my dress.

  Tiny creatures scurried out of sight as I passed the brush along the sides of the path, while bolder creatures above called loudly to acknowledge my presence here. If I were anywhere else in the world, a forest this late at night would be creepy. But these animals, these trees, they were like old friends.

  In the safety of desolation, I could finally let myself think about everything, without worrying that my face would crack and I’d have to explain what was wrong. Jason came up first, carrying some curiosity about the gift he’d left for me, followed closely by David and then the Immortal Damned. Tomorrow, little Tommy would finally be picked up and taken home with his two new dads to begin his human life, but a part of me feared that the ferocious hunger of the king might lead him there to the peacefully sleeping little humans, ripe for the taking. I hoped with all my heart that David was actually searching for Morgana and not for food, because a desperately hungry vampire couldn't distinguish the difference between innocent blood and a meal. And David would never forgive himself if he killed a child. And neither would I.

  I kind of hoped, in this darkness and separation from the world behind a wall of trees, that David might be tailing me. I could hear someone. But when I took a moment to concentrate on the energy, it represented what felt like two bodies. Not one. And they were Lilithian. Not vampire.

  I tilted my nose to the almost perfectly still sky and sniffed the air. Blade. And … I sniffed again. An ashtray? No. That’s… Oh, Ryder.

  “Hey, guys.” I stopped and spun around.

  “Yo,” Blade said, popping out from behind a tree.

  “Have you heard anything about David yet?” I asked, heading toward him, and I could actually hear the hesitation suddenly slow his steps.

  “We have.” Ryder appeared by a tree stump right beside me, striking a match to light a cigarette. “But it’s not good news.”

  “Don’t say that to her.” Blade reached out and flicked Ryder’s ear. I did a double take, looking from where Blade had been to where he was now, and redirected my steps. “She’ll think the worst.”

  “Too late,” I said, pretending to hyperventilate.

  “Well, let’s start with this,” Blade said, snatching Ryder’s cigarette and snapping it in half before stomping it out in the dirt, “and you might find it easier to breathe, your Majesty. At the very least avoid poisoning our future queen.” He gave Ryder a vehement look.

  “What?” Ryder shrugged. “She’ll be immortal. She can’t die from cancer.”

  “A baby is a baby. Immortal or not,” Blade said sternly. “And no decent person would smoke around one. Now—” He turned back to me and cupped my shoulder. “David has been sighted. But he’s not himself.”

  “Who is he then?” I joked.

  “He…”

  “He was unresponsive,” Ryder said.

  “Unresponsive?” I looked at Ryder.

  “Catatonic.” His brows rose with a small, humoured smile. “We were leading him back to your chambers when he suddenly snapped out of it, took out three guards and vanished.”

  The ground felt a little mushy then and hard to stand on. “Why didn't anyone tell me?”

  “Nothing to tell, really.”

  Blade’s hand moved smoothly through the darkness and tilted my face until our eyes met. “We didn't want to worry you.”

  “Actually, your dad didn’t want to worry you,” Ryder added.

  “He just wants to see you enjoy yourself—for once.”

  My heart softened a bit then. “That kinda failed anyway. I’ve been worrying all night.”

  “Aw, queeny. I’m sorry.” Blade pulled me in for a one-armed hug. “You just looked so beautiful and so happy tonight. We all thought it'd be better if we told you after the festival.”

  I patted his back twice and broke away from the hug. “No, it’s better that I know. I mean, David’s not where I want him to be, but he’s still around, so I’m okay.”

  Blade nodded once, smiling into my face with all that English charm.

  “And, you know what?” I added, deciding right then and there that too many things happened in my Royal day that destroyed the good times. “I’m not gonna let it bother me. I’m gonna go to the field and enjoy the games.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Ryder slapped my shoulder, receiving another disapproving look from Blade. “Come on, I’ll challenge you in the archery tournament. See who can hit the bullseye.”

  “Fine,” Blade said, the three of us walking side-by-side toward the field. “But I get to use the dagger instead.”

  “Not much good with a bow and arrow?” I asked.

  He drew his dagger from his belt and flipped it in the air. “Much better with a blade.”

  “I’m better with a sword,” I said. “Can I throw that at the bullseye instead?”

  “Sure.” Ryder turned and walked backward for a second to face us. “In the fencing tournament.”

  “Fencing?”

  “Yup.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Fencing. Archery. Do they have jousting?”

  Blade laughed, and even his laugh had an accent. “No jousting. But I believe there is apple bobbing and pie throwing.”

  “Oooh.” I grabbed his shirtsleeve. “I am so in for the pie throwing. Who’s the target?”

  Ryder and Blade exchanged grins.

  “Who?” I demanded.

  “Margret.”

  My eyes widened in excitement. “Let’s go do that first then!”

  ***

  Bonfires warmed the wind that swept the plains of the open field. From as far back as the doors to the Throne Room all the way to the rocky edge before the beach, stall masters had set up games and displays, and people in the hundreds gathered around them, laughing and talking loudly. The costumes of the greater population strongly resembled clothing worn in the fourteen hundreds and I got a sudden sense, as we stepped out of the tree line in awe, that I had gone completely back in time to when Lilith reigned.

  “Wow.” I laid one hand softly across my belly, the orange flicker of fire colouring my skin. “This looks amazing.”

  Blade stepped up beside me and swept his hair back, leaving his hand on his head. “I feel like a little kid. I’m not sure what to do first.”

  “Well, I already put dibs on pie throwing, remember.”

  “Come on then.” A surefooted Ryder marched straight out of the trees and led the way down a slight slope toward the crowd. “And, after, I wanna see you two go at it with a sword.”

  The chatter and laughter enveloped us as we mingled among the people. Those that looked up at us saw two tall men in Core uniforms, leading a small well-dressed girl through the churned-up grass, so they’d tap each other, whisper and then bow, moving aside to clear a path. I wished I’d worn something a little bit plainer then—maybe so I could blend in and just enjoy the evening, instead of feeling like an outsider.

  It was much warmer down here, packed tightly in a crowd, with several bonfires marking the boundaries of the festival. I rubbed my arms, pushing the last of my goosebumps into my flesh.

  Up ahead, I could see three large wooden boards with a small hole for willing heads, painted in blue and gold, with a banner overhead that marked our destination. I walked on my toes for a second to see over the crowd and maybe get a glance at Margret's face all covered in cream. But, curse the gods, I was just too damn short.

  “Hey, Ara,” Blade said as we joined the line.

  “Mm?”

  “I was just thinking.”

  “Ooh, didn’t hurt yourself did you?” Ryder said.

  Blade just ignored that with a shake of his head. “If you throw a pie at Margret’s face, it might make things worse between you two. As it is, she doesn’t exactly like you—”

  “Say no more.” I put a hand up to silence him. “I’ll take Edgar on the far right.”

  “I’ll take Old Margie,” Ryder said, rubbing his hands together. “That old hag needs a good creaming from a guy who knows how to handle his pie.”

  Blade and I stared at him. “Ew,” I said, and took three tickets off the vendor, moving to the headboard on the end just as Nate knelt down and stuck his head through the hole.

  His sweet boyish face met mine and he laughed. “Just my luck,” he said. “I’m about to get creamed by the queen.”

  “Aw, I wouldn't worry, Nate,” Blade said, standing beside me. “She’ll probably eat the pie before it gets to you.”

  Everyone around me laughed loudly, in a friendly kind of way. I considered the pie, then Blade’s face, but thought better of slamming it into that smug grin. He was just bold enough to return the favour, and I really didn’t want to go back to the ball later with pie on my face. So I turned quickly and ditched it straight at Nate’s head. He gasped just before it struck, and an explosion of white cream slapped his brow and burst out over the board around it.

  Blade and I chuckled lightly, while Nate’s head popped away for a second, coming back with a little less cream.

  “Nice one,” he said. “But it was beginner’s luck. Let’s see if you can hit me twice.”

  “I accept your challenge,” I said, cradling another pie tin while the stall master slopped a few dollops of cream on it. “You ready?”

  He smiled, closing his mouth and eyes tightly.

  While I pretended to aim, I snuck a glance across at Ryder as his pie impacted Margret’s face. And I couldn't help it. All respect for her flew off into outer space and I just had to laugh. Seeing that white cream splash across her snooty chops then blast from her nose like dragon’s fire completely made my day.

  Blade formed a wall between her and me to help hide my laughter before she cleared her eyes and noticed.

  “So you gonna throw that pie at him, or what?” Ryder said, wiping his hands on a cloth as he sauntered over.

  “I…” I tried to breathe, but the laughter had complete control of my body. “I can’t.”

  “Mind if I do?” he said.

  Blade put his arm across Ryder’s chest to stop him. “I got this one, man.”

  Ryder stepped back. “Come on then. Show us what you got.”

  I sobered myself, still hiccupping a little, and stood beside Ryder, our gazes aiming cleanly down the line to Nate.

  “Hey, Ryder?” I whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Wanna see how much my powers have progressed?”

  “Which ones?”

  I checked over my shoulder and then leaned a bit closer to him. “The telekinesis.”

  He drew his gaze away from Nate to smile down at me. “Yeah.”

  “Okay.” I folded my arms and looked back at Nate. “Watch this.”

  Blade’s arm went straight as the pie left his grip, and a mysterious wind that no one felt swept the pie back toward him. His mouth popped as white wings of cream wrapped his head and the silver tin clanked as it hit his nose.

  “Bah!” Ryder slapped his knee, a burst of amusement leaving his throat so loudly I jumped a little.

  Not one person standing nearby could stand straight. Ryder fell to the ground with about half of the other people around us, and Blade just stood there, the tin still glued to his face, the thick white cream dripping from his jaw.

  “I know this is a costume party,” he said under a mouthful of cream, slowly removing his tinny mask and scooping it all from his eyes. “But I didn’t think masks were compulsory.”

  I laughed timidly, getting some distance, even though there was no way he’d know it was me.

  After mopping up a bit of his face with a rag from the vendor, he looked down at Ryder, a clear look of revenge moving in under his white eyebrows. “Okay. ’Fess up. How’d you do that?” he said.

  “What!” Ryder stopped laughing. “Me?”

  “Yes. You.” Blade stepped closer.

  “Dude. I was standing behind you.” He presented the scene. “I couldn't have done it.”

  Blade, realising how ridiculous it was to blame Ryder, reached down and offered his hand. “Fine. But that was one hell of a breeze then.”

  Ryder took Blade’s hand and got to his feet, making the mistake then of winking at me. And Blade caught on instantly, realisation filling his face with surprise first and then malice. He let go, dropping Ryder back on his butt, his steely gaze fixing on me.

  “Blade.” I put both hands up, backing away. “You don’t wanna make a scene.”

  He took a step in my direction, but stopped. “You’re right.”

  I tensed for another second, then relaxed completely with confusion. “I am?”

  “Yes.” He grabbed another rag and wiped his face again. “I’ll get my revenge in the fencing match.”

  My gaze absently moved across to the slashing and clanking of swords in the arena.

  “Come on then.” He offered the way. “Let’s see how well you do when you fight like a man.”

  “Like a man?” I raised a brow at him.

  “Yeah.” He leaned down, his head almost against mine, and whispered, “When you fight without using your ‘special’ gifts.”

  I checked around to see if anyone heard that. They didn’t. “Fine. No cheating allowed then. But I’ll still win.”

  “Don't be so sure about that, queeny,” he said. “You’d be surprised how significantly the need for revenge tips a fight in one’s favour.”

  ***

  On any other day, a walk down to the field would yield a perfectly clear view in all directions. The only obstruction would be the oak tree at the centre, where Jase and I used to sit. But tonight, carts and displays and crowds of heads filled the space, closing it in and making it feel like some other place. It was dark and warm within the boundaries of the bonfires, leaving a person naïve to the whipping autumn breeze outside the fairground. But I felt its icy chill as I stood in the middle of the small arena, a practice sword at the ready, my opponent opposite. He asked for a fair fight—a fight without the use of special abilities—except, if this was to be a fair fight, the stall master should never have approved the use of daggers as well as swords.

  My nerves made the hilt a little slippery with sweat, further decreasing my chances of winning.

  “You might’ve got pie all over my face.” Blade bent slightly at the knees, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other. “But you’re up against me at my best now, queeny.”

  I eyed the white smudges across his black uniform and his hair in clumps and tried not to laugh. “You’re right,” I said. “But my best weapon is the sword, so don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re my best friend’s boyfriend.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, and shot forward faster than a human eye would see, lifting my arm up and jamming the tip of his dagger gently into my rib, almost piercing the skin. And his cool, deep voice travelled the channels of my ear, striking my heart with one word: “Dead.”

  “No fair!” I shoved him away from me. “You caught me off guard.”

  “As will your enemy, Ara. Have I taught you nothing?” He stepped back and switched the dagger from his left hand to his right, making a point that this time he was using his weakest hand. “Shall we try again?”

  Still a little shaken, I sunk into an offensive bend, barely keeping my balance. “Go easy on me. I’m out of practise.”

  “No, you were just never a match for me, my little quee—” The last consonant ended sharply with the tip of my blade at the softest hollow in his throat, his chin tilted awkwardly up to the sky.

  “No match, huh?” I teased.

  “Okay.” He pushed my sword down with two fingers. “That was quick, I must admit. Round three.”

 

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