“I’ll keep my promise.” His whisper broke.
“That’s all I ask.” With one last look at her love, at her dear friends Noli and V, her eyes closed. The crowd hushed at the sound of heavy footsteps. James’ arms tightened around her. She felt a prick at her throat and gasped, but it didn’t hurt, and she didn’t open her eyes. Charlotte knew that the huntsman would slit her throat and her blood would spill to the ground, enabling the people of the otherworld to live for seven more years.
“I love you, Charlotte,” James whispered. She felt him lower her to the grass as she grew dizzy and weak. “I love you so much.”
That was all she needed to hear and she drifted off into happy nothingness.
Kevighn Silver slumped over the wooden table he occupied at a seedy air terminal bar. Where was he? Chicago? Atlanta? He wasn’t even sure. Since he’d been exiled from the Otherworld he’d drifted from place to place in the mortal realm, spending most of it drunk, in an opium haze, or in the bed of yet another strange woman. Eventually, he should get a job, since he was nearly out of money. He was a decent gunner. Those were always needed on airships—both the respectable and disreputable sort.
He picked up his glass of substandard rum and took a drink. Around him the magic shifted with such force rum sloshed over the side of the glass onto the scarred wooden table. A shift of this magnitude at this point in time could only mean one thing. The sacrifice was complete. Banishing him hadn’t negated his abilities.
Hopefully the Spark ran strong enough in her to satiate the magic until the next cycle so they didn’t encounter all the problems they’d endured during this one. That redhead
had
glowed with the Spark, not as brightly as Magnolia, but enough to cause the magic to stabilize.
Magnolia. Was she there in the arms of her earth court prince, watching as the blood drained from her friend?
Yes, Magnolia would be there. Magnolia would cry.
He pounded his fist on the battered table and sighed, raking his hand through his unkempt hair. She should be with
him
, not that whelp of a prince.
At least she hadn’t been the sacrifice.
Kevighn raised his glass of rum and drained it, toasting the memory of the redheaded girl who gave her life so Magnolia didn’t have to.
And we fairies, that do run
By the triple Hecate’s team,
From the presence of the sun,
Following darkness like a dream.
—William Shakespeare,
“A Midsummer-Night’s Dream”
Moving the basket to her elbow, Magnolia Braddock climbed up the trunk of the crooked oak in her backyard, the familiar bark rough under her hands. In a flurry of blue skirts, she hoisted herself, basket and all, into the tree house her father had helped her and V build so long ago. Her mother didn’t like that Noli, a nearly grown woman of sixteen, spent so much time in it.
Most of the mishmash of the bits and pieces composing the little house, the cogs and gears, discarded wood, pieces of brass, and other things, had been carted home by her, V, and James. Each piece held a story. Her hand caressed a piece of brass she and V had taken from an abandoned building. The tree house was no longer big enough for her to stand in. Memories, especially of her father, comprised this place as much as all the random bits of things. Nearly seven years ago Henry Winston Braddock had disappeared in San Francisco and Noli still clung to the fragile hope that one day he’d return to Los Angeles and they’d be a family once again.
Charlotte’s red braid, which she’d carefully sectioned, wrapped in thread, and boiled, hung from a makeshift line inside the tree house. Here it could dry safely away from her mother’s eyes so she wouldn’t have to explain Charlotte. Mama had no idea the Otherworld existed or that due to an ill-worded bargain Noli wasn’t mortal anymore. She had no idea that if Charlotte hadn’t died Noli would have. Nor did she know how much James mourned her.
Right now her mother toiled in the dress shop dealing with the holiday rush, making gowns for the very people who’d once been their social equals, completely unaware that faeries even existed. All that mattered to her was keeping up with appearances the best she could.
Ever since Noli returned from Findlay House, from her stay in the Otherworld, things had changed. Her mother had decided that since she now looked the lady, her hoyden ways supposedly “cured” by that dreadful school, that she would now become one. That meant a return to the parties, teas, and social events she’d hated even when they’d been moneyed and respected. Fixing cars or working in the garden was
always
preferable to balls.
The now-dry skeins of hair went in the basket. She’d weave them into a watch chain for James. This way he could carry a piece of her wherever he went.
Let’s prune the roses,
the sprite suggested.
It was hard not to sigh. When the queen had taken away Noli’s mortality, she’d turned her into a sprite. Well, sort of. V and James had done something, preventing her from losing all of herself during the transformation. However, she was left with the body and abilities of a sprite
and
a sprite sharing the space in her head. Calling it
awkward
was an understatement.
The roses
did
need pruning, and the beautiful Los Angeles fall day called to her.
Later. We have other things to do before Mama returns from the shop.
Like washing dishes, fixing the upstairs shutters, and adjusting the steam-powered sewing machine she’d made for her mother to make dressmaking faster.
The sprite mentally pouted. Really, Noli
would
rather prune roses than wash dishes. Every day it became increasingly difficult to keep the sprite from taking over completely. Some days resisting the sprite grew physically painful. Not to mention being a sprite made some things harder—like thinking.
You think too much,
the sprite piped up.
Ugh. She pushed the sprite back into her mental closet. The last thing she wanted was for the sprite to take over—then she’d never get her chores done.
Across the yard, V’s window in the Darrow residence next door remained dark. An entire day and V still hadn’t returned from the Otherworld. Worry consumed her, especially since she knew why the queen had asked to meet with her best friend and beau. He owed the High Queen a favor, the price of the bargain which had freed Noli from the Otherworld and caused her current sprite predicament. Hopefully, he’d fare well.
Noli climbed down the bent oak, basket on her arm. The soft whirr of a solar-powered hoverboard echoed behind her.
“Very funny, James.” As much as she loved to hoverboard, they were one-person conveyances, so legally women couldn’t fly them. Since she couldn’t afford any more brushes with the law, when James and V went off on their hoverboards, she stayed behind.
Well, most of the time.
“Is James a suitor I need to rough up?” a very different, but still familiar, voice joked.
Noli hopped to the ground and turned just as her brother’s hoverboard touched down on the grass next to her tree. He pulled off his brass goggles, which were in need of a shine.
“Jeff!” Noli dropped the basket onto the grass and wrapped her arms around him.
A couple of years ago her older brother, Jeffery, had left Los Angeles to seek his fortune as an aeronaut, flying cargo vessels. Although he never came to visit, he always wrote her letters and sent money home. Despite the fact they could barely pay the bills, her mother wouldn’t touch the funds. It made no sense. Finally, V had told her the truth. Jeff wasn’t an aeronaut, but an air pirate, which was why her mother refused to use the money.
If there were such things as good air pirates, she’d like to think he was one of them.
“James isn’t my suitor.” She grinned. Jeff seemed in good health and clean.
“Look at you, all grownup.” Goggles still dangled from his fingers. His tan trousers held all sorts of loops and pockets as did his leather vest. “Why does that dress look familiar?”
“Mama remade one of her old walking dresses. She’s been trying out ideas on me.” She smoothed the blue fabric of the bustled skirt; her mother loved bustles. Noli liked bustles well enough, but didn’t love the color. She preferred the greens and browns V liked, but her mother often dressed her in blue because she said it brought out Noli’s steel-colored eyes.
Jeff looked around the yard, concern etched on his face. “Is she here?”
“No, she’s at the shop.” Noli picked up her basket. “Would you like to come inside? I’ll make some tea. I’m so excited to see you. What brings you back?”
He tugged on her chestnut braid. “You, actually,” he gave her a boyish grin that reminded her of their father. “I also have some business here.”
Translation: He was stealing or buying stolen goods. It was probably best to not ask.
A frown tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced back at the house. “As much as I miss our mother, I doubt she’ll want to see me. I have some time, may I take you someplace? Will someone miss you?”
She shook her head. “I should be fixing the sewing machine but that can wait.”
“What’s wrong with the sewing machine? I could take a look.” Jeff rubbed his strong chin, which needed a shave.
“I built Mama a steam-powered sewing machine and she says it doesn’t sew quite right. What’s really wrong is that she doesn’t like it nearly as much as her treadle one.” Noli grinned, swinging her basket back and forth. “She’s hopelessly stuck in the last century.”
Jeff tilted his head back and laughed. “She always has looked backwards instead of forward.” He looked up at the tree house and grinned. “You still use that? I should think a grownup girl like you has better things to do.”
“It reminds me of Father.” It was also a good place for talking with V where her mother couldn’t overhear—and kissing. Kissing V, and other such things, was definitely frowned upon in polite society. Even the idea of her and V alone in the tree house could cause a scandal.
She might not care what society thought, but her mother did.
“Let me retrieve my hat and leave her a note.” Noli entered the house and ran up the back stairs to her room. She set the basket on the dresser, next to the magazine which contained the pattern for the watch chain.
Noli frowned at the looking glass above her dresser as she caught sight of her ears and their slight point—another side effect of becoming a sprite. Carefully, she fixed her chestnut waves to hide them. Part of her missed her curls, but waves were much less unwieldy. As long as they hid her ears. She tried to keep them hidden, especially after Missy Sassafras had taken her aside at a tea and offered to give her the name of a doctor in Europe who could “fix that” for her.
Fix that
indeed.
Hmm. Would this dress be suitable for walking out? She turned from side to side and smoothed the blue fabric.
Wear something else, something pretty,
the sprite urged.
I don’t want Jeff to wait. Besides, even Mama would agree this is a perfectly acceptable afternoon dress.
Noli took a dark blue bonnet and matching cape out of her wardrobe, the nice wool one with bows and ruffles, and put them on. Out came a pair of kidskin gloves from her dresser. As an afterthought she grabbed her old lace parasol.
She penned a note and galloped down the back stairs, leaving the note on the kitchen table. Now that it was only the two of them, without even the lowliest servant, the kitchen had become the hub of the house.
“Noli, you have no food.” Jeff stood in the kitchen, opening and closing the worn wooden cupboards, frowning deeply. His hoverboard stood propped against the kitchen door. “Were’s Mrs. Diller? The house is a mess.”
“She dismissed Mrs. Diller about a year after you left and I can only do so much,” Noli huffed. “Mama still makes me go to school, and I can’t clean up or fix things when she’s around. And we do so have food.” It just wasn’t fancy, interesting, or tasty.
He looked around the kitchen, at the breakfast dishes in the sink, clean laundry piled on one of the chairs, candle wax marring the surface of the table, and his forehead creased. “Why don’t you have a staff? I send you money from every single job.”
Noli sighed. “Mama won’t use it. She hides it—well. Believe me, I’ve looked
everywhere
. She says it’s for my dowry. Between you and me, I think she’s dipped into it to buy me things as she attempts to force me upon society. Apparently, since I’m nearly seventeen, I’m old enough to
stop this hoyden nonsense and get married.”
She grimaced, not ready for marriage or giving up her dream of going to the university. “Mama’s been talking about a trip to Boston to see everyone, which we can’t afford unless she uses that money or asks Grandfather.”
Jeff opened the empty breadbox and rubbed his chin. “What does
he
think?”
“He has no idea. You know how stubborn she is,” Noli shrugged. “She tells him you support us. She’s afraid if he knew he’d bring us back to Boston—if he does that, we won’t be here when father returns.” Grandfather Montgomery, their mother’s father, lived in Boston. He was a very influential man, and as stubborn as their mother.
“Father’s never … ” He shook his head and forced a smile. “Where would you like to go?”
Noli thought for a moment. “Could we go to the pier? Please? Like Father used to take us? I haven’t been there in ages.”
Who knew if she would ever get the chance again? Eventually her life would take her from Los Angeles. If she stayed with V, which she fully intended … well, he held fast to his dream of eventually taking back his family’s kingdom in the Otherworld.
“The pier? Don’t you think that’s a little far?” Jeff’s eyebrows rose. He had dark brown hair like their father. Actually, he looked a great deal like their father, right down to the cleft in his chin. But he had their mother’s startling blue eyes.
Noli raised her chin. “Not for a hoverboard.”
Jeff laughed. “Hoverboards are one person conveyances.” His look grew sly. “Unless you happen to have one.”
Her mouth spread into a smile. Of course she did— in the shed in the backyard. It was actually Jeff’s old hoverboard which she’d fixed up. Flying it could land her in trouble. However, she had a more legal solution.