New Gargoyles generally didn’t go for the fluff and finery typical of the Fae courts. Marisol looked understated but regal in a simple, floor-length dress the color of storm clouds. Strands of semi-precious stones had been woven into her intricately braided ash-blond hair, and a wide mother-of-pearl belt was cinched around her slim waist. She looked like a Greek goddess.
“ . . . the Spriggan kingdom has already stolen a dozen of us,” Marisol was saying from the dais that was the focal point of the curved bench seating. Her son, Maxen, stood just off to one side of the dais, his weight eased over to one hip and his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. His attention was fixed on her. “But Sebastian’s isn’t the only kingdom vying for New Gargoyles. King Periclase of the Unseelie Duergar has just made an appeal to King Oberon, arguing that his kingdom has the right to absorb the Stone Order.”
I suddenly felt a little sick to my stomach. The possibility of ending up under the rule of an Unseelie kingdom such as the Duergar had never entered my mind. A Seelie King like Sebastian would be bad enough, but being forced into the Unseelie world would be my own personal nightmare. Whereas the Seelie kingdoms were defined by oaths and honor, the Unseelie kingdoms were known more for deception. And with the Unseelie, the manipulation and political intrigue was ten times worse. The Duergar’s petition to Oberon, a near-god in Faerie and the current king of the High Court, was only a step less serious than a declaration of war.
I blinked and turned a sharp gaze up at my father. “Is she saying what I think she’s saying?”
Personally, I’d always hoped that if Marisol did succeed in forming a Stone Court, she would establish it as an independent kingdom, subjected to neither Seelie nor Unseelie. Such kingdoms were very rare and there were none currently, but then again, we New Gargoyles were an unusual bunch.
Before Oliver could respond to me, Marisol continued.
“One of Periclase’s main arguments is that the Stone Order is much too small and our rate of reproduction much too low to ever gain the numbers needed to formalize into our own kingdom. So, the time has come to strengthen our ranks.” Marisol paused dramatically. “We must begin to show our true strength. First, we will bring the hidden ones into the fold.”
The audience seemed to inhale and murmur all at once. Not quite a gasp, but a collective sound of surprise.
“It’s true.” She raised her chin and looked out solemnly. “There are over a hundred more New Gargoyles. I received a prophecy twenty-five years ago, not long after establishing the Stone Order, that directed me to keep some of our numbers concealed.”
Did I mention that Marisol had prophetic visions? One of her many talents. It wasn’t the sort of thing I’d normally put much stock in, but her prophecies were the real deal.
“For obvious reasons, only a few of us have known about the changelings and other hidden ones,” Marisol said. “Yesterday, I received a sign that it was time for us to seek them out. Only hours later, I got word of the Duergar King Periclase’s formal bid for our fealty.”
Changelings were a fact of Faerie life and always had been. Infidelity was rife in Faerie, and Fae sometimes had need to hide illegitimate babies among the humans in the Earthly realm. This was especially true in earlier eras, when Fae were considerably more brutal and bloody, and infanticide for reasons of jealousy and power wasn’t uncommon. There were other reasons to hide Fae in the Earthly realm, but the myth of the reverse—Fae stealing human babies off to Faerie—was entirely false. No one really knew how or why the rumor began, but Fae had no use for human children. Fae changelings were usually placed in human households after crib deaths. There was an entire race of Fae responsible for executing the placements.
“I tried to get a hold of you last night,” Oliver whispered in my ear.
“What?” I glanced at him distractedly but then returned my attention to Marisol. “Oh, uh, I was on assignment in Faerie and missed your call.”
“We need to talk,” he said.
His tone, which sounded just this side of worried, snagged my attention. Apprehension snaked through me as I looked up at him. My father was one of the most formidable Fae alive. Physically, he was as tall as a full-blood Elf, but with twice the shoulder span, and he was pure, solid muscle. As a fighter, he was almost unbeatable. He’d always been more soldier than father figure, and he was about as touchy-feely as a sandstone cliff. I didn’t resent him for it—he’d made sure I had what I needed when I was growing up—and frankly when he did show anything hinting at emotion, it set me on edge.
He clamped a steel paw around my elbow and pushed me toward the door.
“Let’s go into the hallway,” he said.
“But she’s still talking,” I protested, gesturing at the lit dais. “Isn’t this pretty important?”
“The rest is just wind-down from the big announcement,” he said brusquely.
My brows shot up. Oliver had sworn fealty to Marisol before the Stone Order was even official, and his loyalty to her ran deep and in all directions. This was about as close to disrespectful as I’d ever heard him in regard to her.
I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but I was fairly certain I wasn’t going to like it.
Oliver faced me, holding my shoulders in his huge hands. “Petra, King Periclase has taken a New Gargoyle changeling. A very important one. He kidnapped her.”
I looked at him in confusion, my head pulled back as if he’d shouted at me. “What in Oberon’s name are you talking about?”
“We need you to get the changeling before Periclase tricks her into swearing fealty to him,” he said. “This is important, Petra.”
I shook my head and crossed my arms. “I’m not doing anything until all my questions are answered.”
Oliver’s eyes seemed to plead with me, but only for a split second before they hardened into a glare I knew all too well—it was a look that sliced right through you. But I stood my ground.
“You’re the one who taught me to question until all of my questions are answered and I’m satisfied with the answers. You always said it’s the best way to protect myself against—”
“—the manipulative tendencies of the Fae,” he finished for me. “I’ll give you as much as I can, but you’re going to have to trust me. This is crucial, Petra. Someone has to go get that girl, but it can’t be me. I’m too high profile. It should be you because—”
He cut off abruptly as his gaze flicked over my shoulder to something down the hallway. He stepped to the side and reached up for the grip of the sword he wore on a cross-body scabbard similar to mine.
I twisted to look for whatever had caught his attention. “What is it?”
But even as I said the words, black-swathed figures about four feet high had begun to appear as if out of thin air—dropping from the ceiling and materializing from the walls like a swarm of stealthy insects. Metal glinted in their hands. They looked exactly like the ninja wannabes who’d tried to take out the Spriggan King Sebastian at Druid Circle.