Reign or Shine (10 page)

It worked, but it took a minute. When I'd composed myself, I turned again to my father, who looked incredibly distressed by this entire conversation.

It obviously wasn't any easier on him than it was on me.

That helped. A little.

"Nikki," my father began.

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"Please," I said, and I could hear the desperation in my voice. "There has to be another way."

"There is." His smile held but it was sad. "But first I wanted to see how you felt about the situation. Now I have."

He pul ed out a chain from underneath his shirt. It was a gold chain, thinner than the one Michael wore, and on the end of it was a dark red glass bottle no

bigger than my thumb. He pul ed the chain over his head and handed it to me.

I took it from him and, looking down at it, I realized the bottle wasn't red at al , but the liquid inside of it was. "What is this?"

"A magic potion. For you." 98

I frowned at him so deeply it hurt. "A
magic
potion?"

He nodded. "It wil remove any trace of demon from you and the kingdom wil no longer recognize you as my heir."

My eyes were wide. "I don't understand."

"This is the only way your life can remain normal and untouched by al of this. Drink the potion and you wil become completely human. You won't have to

deal with the complications of being a Darkling. As I said, I don't truly know how your powers wil ful y manifest and that worries me greatly."

"You and me both," I managed.

"Also, if you don't want to accept the responsibility of taking the throne when I die, this is the only way to avoid that. By drinking this you wil be safe in al ways."

The gold chain hung off my hand and I looked at the bottle. It felt cool against my sweaty palm. My other hand, I suddenly realized, was clutching Michael's wrist very tightly.

"I can't believe it's that easy," I said.

"It is." My father hesitated. "However, there is a side

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effect of the potion that you should be aware of. Once taken, your memories of being half demon, as wel as of your trip here to the Shadowlands, wil

fade away."

I looked at Michael and then back to my father. "You mean I'd forget about Michael, too?"

My father's brow knitted. "Michael, I think this is a good time for you to fetch Elizabeth for me. Please tel her that Nikki has arrived."

Michael cleared his throat and disengaged his hand from mine. "Yes, Your Majesty."

I watched Michael quickly leave the room without a backward glance. "He sure fol ows orders wel here, doesn't he?"

"Servants are required to fol ow the orders of their master."

The room went very silent, except for the sound of the fireplace crackling and my heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

"I don't think I heard you right," I began. "Did you just say that Michael is a
servant!"

"Yes, of course. In fact, when I sent him to the human realm, he was specifical y assigned to be
your
servant." He frowned. "Didn't he tel you that?"

I made a beeline for that goblet of water again and took a shaky sip before answering. "No, I didn't know that."

"He should have told you. It is unacceptable that he didn't. Shadows are servants to demonkind."

My head was spinning. A servant. Michael was a
servant!
"What is a Shadow?"

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"The Shadowlands were once home to beings cal ed Shadows. They were a part of the chaos that threatened the worlds beyond before the demons

brought order here again. The Shadows that remained afterward were enslaved to us."

I felt stunned. "So you're saying he's a ... a slave?"

My father looked confused by my stuttering reaction to this news. "We treat our Shadows very wel and give them many freedoms, but yes. If it wasn't for us they would have been completely destroyed. Michael has been particularly helpful to me over the years."

"He lives here?"

"Yes, he was brought to the castle as a child--he is unaffected by the unavoidable solitude this place brings with it. Since he is around your age, I thought

him best to travel to the human realm to bring you to see me. He's been very loyal to me, and because of this I've given him certain privileges that most

Shadows would never be al owed. But..." He looked at me sharply. "Michael is not boyfriend material, if that's what you're thinking."

My face flushed.
"Boyfriend material!"

"Even if he wasn't a Shadow . . . you are a princess, and therefore high above a mere servant."

"I'm starting to figure out why he didn't want to tel me what he real y was," I said icily.

My father's expression grew more severe. "You asked Michael a direct question and he refused to answer?"

"No. Please, forget it."

"I recognize the signs, Nikki, and it worries me." "The signs?"

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"He doesn't look at you as I'd expect a servant to look at a princess. I fear that he's forgotten his place. I'l have to speak with him."

I couldn't believe this. Why hadn't Michael just told me? Because he was embarrassed? Ashamed of what he was?

"Michael saved my life," I said, for lack of anything else to say.

He stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"There was a guy with a knife earlier when I was walking home from school. He tried to kil me and Michael saved me. That . . . that amulet he wears--he was able to blast the guy away like he was nothing."

It took my father a moment to say anything to that. "Why didn't he mention this to me? Shadows aren't permitted to harness their powers, especial y not in the human realm. It's too dangerous." He paced the room for a moment. "But if he did it to save you then I suppose this indiscretion can be forgiven." He

turned to look at me again. "Was this attacker a human?"

"He looked human, but I think he was a demon. He cal ed me Princess."

His expression shadowed. "I don't know how this is possible, Michael is the only one that I authorized to travel to the human realm. How would this assassin even know of your existence?"

I shrugged. "He could have slipped through."

"It must be because my powers are weakened by my il ness. It's the only explanation I can think of." My father shook his head gravely. "You're okay, though?"

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I was too focused on these newfound revelations about Michael to obsess any more about the big guy with the knife. "I survived."

"I'm very glad." He didn't say anything for a moment. And then, "Has Michael told you anything else about himself?"

"Not much." I swal owed. "But, he did say that if he didn't return here in a couple of days he'd die. Is that true?"

My father stood up and walked toward the fire. The light il uminated his stern, handsome features. "The green stone amulet he wears is made from what was once a large deposit here in the Shadowlands back when his kind ruled. They drew their power from it."

"Do al Shadows have green eyes?" I asked.

He looked at me. "Yes, they do."

"When he blasted the guy, the amulet kind of went dul and so did the color of his eyes."

"He was weakened from using his abilities in the human realm."

"But he recovered. Kind of like recharging his battery."

He nodded. "Yes, it is much like that. Michael needs his amulet to sustain his life force. In order to take the land, the demons had to destroy the deposit

and clear most of it away. But since Shadows need it for survival, they were each given a smal piece of it that they could wear on the outside of their clothing at al times. To keep the energy charged, Michael must remain in the Shadowlands or the Underworld, or else he wil steadily weaken."

I tried to add this new information to my already ful

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brain. On the bright side, my headache from earlier hadn't shown up ever since the incident with Robert. "I don't understand why the demons had to take the land at al . Why couldn't they share it with the Shadows?"

My father's harsh expression softened with a smal smile. "You are asking me to condense a mil ennium of history into a few minutes. Shadows are

. . . very stubborn, difficult to control, and as you saw by what Michael did to your assailant, they are also very powerful when they have the chance to be. They

are unpredictable by nature. When presented with the option of joining us, the Shadow king declined. Rather rudely, from what I understand.

Unfortunately, they left us with no other choice but to use force." He paused for a moment. "Michael is a direct descendant of that king, so he does come by his

insolence natural y."

I sucked in a breath of air and clutched the side of the table tightly. "So he's actual y a prince?"

"No." He shook his head. "Michael is your servant. And neither he nor you should ever forget that."

I heard something at the entranceway and looked over. Michael had reentered the room in time to hear the last thing my father had said. His expression looked stricken.

"Michael," my father said, "why didn't you tel Nikki who you real y are?"

His gaze was now firmly fixed on the floor. "I should have, Your Majesty." "Please tel her now."

I could barely breathe. Why was my father making him do this?

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Then Michael glanced at me and our eyes met. He looked ashamed--of who he was or of how he had kept the truth from me, I didn't know--and it made

my heart twist sharply.

"I am your servant, Princess." He choked out the words. "And it was wrong of me to keep this from you. I'm very sorry."

That's why he cal ed me Princess instead of Nikki. It was a term of respect. He'd been assigned to find me, tel me about who I was, and keep me safe. He didn't tel me who he was--he was vague and avoided the question-- because he didn't want me to know the truth.

But now I knew.

"Michael, you can wait downstairs until Nikki is ready to go home," my father said sternly. "Thank you." Michael turned and left the room.

I felt sick. He'd been completely humiliated. I wanted to hate my father for what had just happened, but when I looked at him he simply looked back at me curiously, as if he couldn't understand why I was so upset.

Servants were a normal daily thing for him here, and what he'd done hadn't been cruel or unusual for him. But not for me. Not like that. And not to Michael.

"What is it, Nikki?" he asked softly. "Why are you upset?"

Before I could say anything, somebody else walked into the room. It was a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, flawless translucent skin, and a wide, friendly smile.

For some reason, my already aching heart dropped a

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little more.
The queen.
Had to be. My father may have felt badly about leaving my mother al those years ago, but that didn't mean that he hadn't moved

on.

"My goodness," she said. "What did you say to Michael? He looked very distressed."

"He'l be fine," my father said. "Please, Elizabeth, come and meet Nikki."

She didn't take her attention off me as she approached and reached out to clasp my hand in hers. "Nikki," she said, beaming at me, "I'm so thril ed to

meet you. I'm Desmond's sister, Elizabeth."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise at that introduction. "You're my
aunt.
So you're
not married to my father?"

She smiled a bit wider. "Wel , that would be rather inappropriate, wouldn't it?" Then her smile faded a bit. "You also look rather distressed. This is al horribly overwhelming for you, isn't it?"

"You could say that."

She touched my shoulder. "I know. Believe me, I know. This would be surprising news--to find out your Darkling nature--on a good day. Let alone with everything else that's happening here. ..." Her eyes grew misty and she glanced over her shoulder. "Are you feeling al right, Desmond?"

He'd moved to the table and leaned against it, a hand to his stomach again. "Wel enough."

Even I could tel he was lying. He was feeling pain again and, despite what had happened with Michael, concern for him wel ed up inside me.

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Elizabeth shook her head and then went to the long black table. She poured a goblet of water from the pitcher there and brought it to him.

"Drink this," she said.

He lifted it to his lips and drank.

She glanced at me. "You do know that your father is gravely il ?"

My throat thickened and I nodded.

Her attention moved to the vial I stil held in my hand. "You've given her the potion, Desmond?"

"I have."

My head stil swam from al the information I'd received. Meeting my aunt only added to it. "So if I take the potion . . . when my father . . . when he . . ."

I

swal owed, not wanting to finish that sentence. "Who wil take over the throne?"

Elizabeth helped my father into the chair and stroked the hair back from his face. His skin had gone very pale.

"Elizabeth and I have already discussed this, Nikki," my father said weakly. "She's consented to take the throne. After you, she's next in line."

"So that means . . . ," I began. "That . . . that you won't be able to leave here either? That you'l be stuck here in this castle?"

"Don't worry about me. I'l manage. Although, I may consider redecorating." Elizabeth gave me a smal smile. "Truly, Nikki, it's the best solution in this unfortunate matter. You shouldn't have to deal with this burden at your age. Especial y only learning about it now."

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When my father died, Elizabeth would be trapped here without being al owed to leave, and she was doing it of her own free wil .

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be. I only wish I could have met you before al of this. I would have loved the chance to get to know you better."

I clutched the vial tightly in my hand and thought how when I drank its contents I'd forget al of this. I'd forget my father, and Elizabeth . . . and Michael.

I hadn't known any of them a couple of days ago and now it actual y hurt to think that I wouldn't be able to see them again.