Richelle Mead Dark Swan Bundle: Storm Born, Thorn Queen, Iron Crowned & Shadow Heir (55 page)

It occurred to me as I drove away that Art hadn't invited me inside either time. Coincidence? His meticulous yard certainly suggested he spent as much time outdoors as within. And yet…would I have found some evidence in there to shed more light on his activities? Damn. There was nothing to be done for it now, not with Art still there and suspicious of me.

As I drove back through town toward the highway, a backup plan came to me. What had Art said? That Abigail was out of town for a few days? As of yet, I had no evidence whatsoever to suggest that she was involved with any of this Otherworldly intrigue, but she was an associate of Art's. Maybe there was something to be unearthed at her place.

So, I parked outside her apartment once more and slipped in past the antiques store. My athame, wand, and gun were my usual tools of the trade, but I did carry a few little-used ones, such as a quartz crystal for reading energy. I also had a small lock-picking kit I kept in my bag. Imps, trolls, and other creatures of that ilk sometimes tried to lock themselves away from me. If Abigail's lock wasn't particularly state of the art, I should be able to get in.

It wasn't, and judging from the lack of beeping, there was no alarm system within either. The closest she had was her herd of cats. They swarmed around me in a furry, slithering mass, less hostile than hungry. I wondered who fed them when she was gone. Uneasily, I decided to make this search quick, lest an unsuspecting pet sitter come trolling around.

Searching wasn't easy since the place was still cluttered with books, incense, and candles. My task was made more difficult by the fact that I had no clue what I was looking for. I lifted and moved things as best I could, hoping the place wouldn't look ransacked. In spite of the mess, I was again struck by how nice the apartment was, how it had been expensively restored. The floors were true hardwoods—no laminate here—and all the molding and crownwork was elaborate and beautiful. This place couldn't be cheap, and it seemed a shame she'd let her pack-rat habits get the best of it. Not that I was one to talk.

I concluded my search with a quick scan of the bedroom. It was less messy and hence had less to browse. Her duvet was a patchwork of brightly colored silks, and the closet was filled with scarves and gauzy dresses. A jewelry box on her dresser displayed a stunning collection of necklaces and rings, and beside it was—so help me—a pair of handcuffs. I almost laughed, trying to imagine New Agey Abigail into something kinky. Maybe I hadn't been the only one to visit the sex-toy shop. Of course, whereas mine had been cheap and lightweight, these were industrial-strength steel ones, like cops would use. If she was into kinky stuff, then it was pretty hardcore.

I drove back to Tucson after that, arriving in early evening. My autopilot sense of direction started to take me home, and then, at the last moment, I called Tim.

“Has Kiyo called or stopped by?”

“Nope. But one of his cats threw up on the living-room floor.”

“That's not quite the same.”

We disconnected, and I checked my cell phone for the hundredth time. Nope. No missed calls there either. With a sigh, I turned toward Saguaro National Park and its easy-access crossroads. If Kiyo couldn't emerge from the Otherworld and into this one, then perhaps he'd sent some sort of message to the Thorn Land. I felt stupid and desperate, like a girl waiting by the phone. But what else could I do?

Unfortunately, the Otherworldly news was no better.

“No, your majesty,” said Nia. Her voice was anxious and apologetic, as though she herself was personally to blame. “There's been no word.”

I thanked her and figured that if I'd gone to the trouble to come here, I should find Shaya and get some sort of update. When I went searching, however, it was a most unexpected visitor I found instead: Girard, the dark-skinned courtier and metalsmith from Maiwenn's party.

“Your majesty,” he said with a bow, as flamboyant as ever. “I was hoping I'd see you before I had to leave.”

“Before you had to…what are you doing here?” I asked, more perplexed than displeased by his presence.

“I've come to bring you this.”

Like a magician producing a rabbit from under his cape, Girard held out a stunning necklace. The chain was made of exquisite, swirling links that rippled like water, and a pear-shaped sapphire ringed in pearls hung from it.

“Oh my God,” I gasped, taking it from him. “This is incredible. Did you make this?”

“Yes, your majesty.” His voice was modest, but he was clearly pleased by my regard.

“Who's it from?”

Recalling the comments others had made about his political aspirations, I half-expected it to be a gift from him. Then, suddenly and hopefully, I wondered if Kiyo had sent it as a token of affection since he had to spend so much time away from me. I wouldn't have put it past Dorian either, but he would have presented it himself.

“It's from Prince Leith of the Rowan Land.”

Of course. I should have known. Leith accepting his fate last night had been too good to be true.

“His highness adds that he'll also have me make a crown to match if you would like. He sends this with his greatest love and devotion.”

“I'm sure he does.” I sighed and handed the necklace back. “Well, a crown is definitely out of the question, I'm afraid. And actually…I'm really sorry, Girard, but I can't even keep this. I hate for your work to go to waste.”

He took the necklace and deftly slipped it into one of his many pockets. “It's no trouble at all. I understand how romantic affairs go—or rather, how they don't go. His highness will be sad, but I enjoyed the chance to work on something new for a change, so it was worth it, even if it won't grace your neck.”

I recalled how he lived at Katrice's court. “What do you usually work on?”

He made a small face. “Her majesty Queen Katrice is partial to animals and collects figurines, jewelry…anything depicting them. Last week, I made a crystal squirrel. It was lovely, of course, but it's the fifth squirrel I've made this year.”

I couldn't help but laugh. “Well, I guess I'm glad for this, then. Maybe…” An idea suddenly came to me. “Maybe I can give you another project away from her menagerie. Do you have the time?”

Girard bowed low. “Of course.”

“I heard you can work with iron to a certain extent. Here's what I need….” I described my problem with Jasmine and how I needed more flexible restraints that contained as much iron as he could handle. Theoretically, I could have brought over human handcuffs, but I wanted special ones not only for mobility but because I needed bronze or copper somewhere on them so that my guards could touch them if need be.

Girard listened thoughtfully, nodding as I spoke. “Yes, of course I can do this. I can have them for you tomorrow.”

“Whoa, I didn't expect—”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Your majesty, you forget that we don't forge and work metal like humans do. I order the metal to bend, and it does. The rest is in skill and patience.”

I supposed he had a point. I thanked him profusely, telling him that Shaya would settle the price with him later. Once he left, I then set out to find Shaya myself, still needing a report.

Before I could, I was intercepted again—this time by Ysabel. She was alone, which I took to mean Dorian had returned to the Oak Land. That was something, at least. I didn't want him camping out around here—particularly after my teary-eyed weakness last night.

She came to a halt before me, arms crossed. Whatever fear she'd had from our last lesson seemed to have completely vanished. Maybe Dorian's visit had reassured her. Or maybe she figured she had little to fear from someone who'd spent all of last night moping and drinking away her sorrows.

“My lord says I
still
cannot leave until we've worked together at least one more time.”

“Bummer,” I said and started to pass her. “I've got to find Shaya.”

She blocked my way again. It was déjà vu of the last time she'd accosted me about this. “Shaya's gone right now. The sooner we get this over with, the better. I know you have nothing else to do with your time right now either. You're simply waiting for your kitsune to throw you some sort of bone.”

Alright, now she'd pissed me off, largely because she was right. “That's not true. I have plenty of things to do. Besides, I don't know if I really need your help anymore. I think at this point it's all just practicing on my own.”

With my mind, I reached out, feeling the different types of air around us. I stayed well away from her but pulled together several groups. Now that I understood their individual natures, it wasn't that hard to combine them into larger gusts. I blasted the air through the hall, creating a gust of wind that rivaled the one she'd smugly showed me that first day. Her expression showed disdain, but I swear, there was fear in her eyes again. I remembered what Shaya had said, that I was learning too quickly and too well.

“That is…acceptable,” Ysabel said at last. “But it was clumsy. And you can't combine it with water yet to truly control the weather.”

She was right on that, but I felt I had a good enough understanding of both to just keep practicing. “It'll come with time. I'll be fine on my own.”

“My lord said one more time…” That scornful expression faded now, replaced by uncertainty. “There is something else…something…well, you haven't even come close to it yet.”

“I inherited storm magic. Water and air. What else is there?”

“Follow me, and I'll show you—if you can handle it.” There it was, the old attitude. It was almost comforting.

She took me back out to the courtyard we'd been in last night. A servant I'd seen around the castle was painstakingly setting more tiles into the ground, expanding the patio area. We stood well away from him, and Ysabel continued keeping her arms crossed over her chest, posture still rigid and defensive.

“I'll be glad when this is over and I can return to the Oak Land. It's obvious my lord misses me.” Her eyes glinted wickedly. “He made love to me last night with a passion I've never seen before. It left me screaming and aching in ecstasy.”

I rolled my eyes and stopped myself from saying,
Yeah, because he was thinking of me.
“Let's just get this over with so you can leave and get all the screaming and aching you want. What else was there I needed to know?”

“There's something else in the air,” she said. She bit her lip in thought, trying to articulate her meaning. “I can feel it, but I'm unable to touch it. Probably you can't either.”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“It's always there…it's like the pieces of the air are…prickly. Sharp to the touch. There are more of them, though, before a storm.”

I stared stupidly for a moment, and then the human part of me put it together. “Lightning…you're talking about making lightning,” I breathed. What was the scientific term? “Those are charged particles.”

The term meant nothing to her, but she'd nodded when I mentioned lightning. Eagerness flared up in me, and I immediately felt out around me. Sensing all the air molecules was easy now. The only two I could name were oxygen and carbon dioxide. All the others had their own unique feel, but I couldn't say if they were nitrogen or hydrogen or what. After a few minutes of groping with my mind, I shook my head.

“I don't feel anything like that.”

Ysabel seemed pleased by this. “Like I said, you likely aren't strong enough.”

“It's a clear day,” I pointed out. “There probably aren't any around.”

“No, they're always there. There aren't many today, but I can feel them.”

I set my lips into a hard line, trying again. It was just like the old days with Dorian: endless waiting, save that he would have tied me up. Ysabel probably would have too if I'd let her, if only to use the chance to slit my throat.

Air, air, air. Every particle unique, yet none of it had the sharp, prickly feel she was describing. Distantly, I remembered the one time I had summoned a storm. I'd been caught by an elemental gentry, on the verge of being raped while my mother lay injured. In my crazy desperation and panic, I'd summoned a storm that nearly leveled my house. I had little memory of how I'd done it, though. The whole thing was a blur, like some kind of dream that—

All the hairs on my arms suddenly stood up. There. There, mixed in with other air above us was something…well, to put it bluntly, electric. It felt prickly, just as she'd described. I reached for it, trying to control it as I had the other particles, but it was slippery. It was like oil running through my fingers, and I understood now why she couldn't do it. It was a very different phenomenon. Steeling myself, I tried again, and for one heartbeat, I drew them together into a knot. The smell of ozone filled the air, and then I lost my grip. No flash of light, no thunder.

But Ysabel's face was aghast. “You…you did it. You shouldn't have been able to…”

“I didn't really do anything.”