Loose Changeling: A Changeling Wars Novel (27 page)

I wasn't sure when I'd moved again, but I stood with my blade at Haldor's neck, so close he must have felt it tickling at the hairs on his skin. He stood frozen in a half-crouch, hand outstretched, as though he'd intended to pick up the sword he'd lost.

“You have your victory, Changeling,” he said. He closed his eyes, let his hand fall back at his side. “Take it.”

I felt more than saw the crowd of the Arena lean inward, their bodies forming a cocoon, an enclosure. A place where one Fae would die, his preternaturally long life cut terribly short. My breathing sounded overly loud in my ears, a rasping sound as my throat grew tight.

“No.” I whispered it at first, then swallowed. Haldor had heard me. I could see it in his wide, uncomprehending eyes. “No.” This time, the rest of the Arena heard. I'd practically yelled it into a silence profound as the one within the Void.

When no one said anything, I folded Kailen's sword back into a tube and hooked it onto the waistband of my pants. I reached a hand out to Haldor. “I'm not going to kill you,” I told him. Hesitantly, he stretched his hand to meet mine.

“No?” Grian's voice drifted down from the Arena's balcony. “You made a pact with the Arbiter, one that cannot be unmade.”

Well, that showed how much
she
knew. I helped Haldor to his feet. “You okay?”

He nodded and finally seemed to find his voice again. He spoke in an undertone. “Grian is right. Only one of us may leave this Arena alive.”

“Let me worry about that,” I said.

I turned to Grian. “I fought Haldor and won.”

She stood at the edge of her balcony. “The trial is to the death, Changeling,” she said. “The terms have not been satisfied.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? If they have not been met, then the Arbiter can come strike me down himself.” A gasp ran through the crowd. Maybe it wasn't wise, provoking the Arbiter, but I had to trust that the new pact we'd made overruled the first. The most he could do was grind his teeth at my insolence, and that didn't bother me. He was kind of an asshole, anyways.

When nothing happened, the gasps devolved into frenzied muttering. I wondered what they thought. How many of them had been around when the last Changelings were alive? How much did they know of what I could do and my limitations? I had my suspicions that any information had been skewed against me.

“I won,” I said to Grian. “I may not have killed my opponent, but I won.”

She bared her teeth, her pretty face going feral. “You do not win until I
say
you have won—and that is not until you've killed your opponent.”

I strode forward, closer to the center of the Arena, closer to Grian. “Grian,” I said, “the Arbiter seems to think the conditions have been satisfied. This isn’t your decision to make; it’s his. Why would you insist that I kill the Guardian? People might start talking, thinking that you don't want the Guardians around.”

I'd been to high school. I knew how to start a rumor. The murmuring of the crowd increased.

“Why don’t you want the Guardians around?” I called out.

“That's not what...” She paused, gathered herself. “It appears we have a victor.” And then she smiled, and I didn’t like that expression on her face, not one bit.

I waited. Grian may have been a Queen, but the crowd held sway in the Arena. The muttering died down but no one cheered. No one booed, either. I was on my own. Maybe they were still half-expecting the Arbiter to show up and take me away.

I approached the balcony. “I believe you owe me a crown.” I couldn’t see Tristan, but I was sure he still sat at her feet. She wouldn’t let him get too far from her grasp.

“Of course.” She pressed her hand into the white stone of the balcony railing. With a grinding sound, steps appeared out from the wall, leading up to Grian’s seat.

I checked behind me briefly. Haldor had risen and was retreating toward the opened door on his side of the Arena. No one paid him any attention. He grasped his shoulder where I’d cut him, but he’d be okay.

I’d conquered my fear of death (somewhat). Time to conquer my fear of heights. I climbed, trying to keep my mind on Tristan, and not on how small the steps were, or how far they were from the ground.

Grian waited at the top. She’d produced a crown from somewhere, probably from the voluminous folds of her dress. It was woven of rose branches, the leaves and thorns stripped, leaving only the red blooms.

Tristan.

He stood now, still playing with the golden ball. She’d dressed him in an outfit to match her own. Green doublet, green tights, green velvet shoes—all trimmed with gold. He looked like he belonged at a Renaissance fair.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said. He didn’t look up.

Now would have been a good time to have a plan. I was close to Grian, like I’d wanted, but how could I take the secret of the ball’s destruction from her? I’d thought I would have come up with something by the time I came to claim my crown. But I’d spent all my time and energy trying to figure out how to survive in the Arena.

She extended the crown at waist level and waited, her lips still quirked in that nasty smile.

I took a step forward and knelt. The movement brought me level with Tristan. He stared through me and tipped the ball from hand to hand.

Grian wouldn’t tell me what could destroy the ball. But what if I tried to take it from her?

A shadow fell over my eyes as she set the crown on my head. No more time to plan. Now or never. I grabbed her hand. I tried to read her mind and fell into a torrent of light.

Piercing pain shot through me, like needles.

Honestly, Nicole
, said Grian.
Did you really think it would work? I am Talented in mind magic. You are insignificant in
this
Arena. You’ve made this so
, so
easy
.

I was falling, falling into a thousand spears of brightness, each one sharper than a blade. I couldn’t right myself, couldn’t grab onto anything.

The world went dark.

What is it that makes Nicole tick, I wonder?

Images whirled in front of me. They were the pieces of my life, and Grian sifted through them as though she were shuffling through old files. My first date, my first kiss, that embarrassing time in seventh grade I didn’t realize the back of my dress was tucked into my underwear.

“No!” I cried out.

A low chuckle echoed through my mind.
Ah, does this bother you?

Something in me swelled—a tide of emotion, of anger, of grief and despair. I gathered it, breathed out, and
pushed
.

The darkness bent and gave way. I brushed past it and into the light again. This time, though, I had my two feet beneath me. No more images, no more sifting through my mind. Grian said nothing.

What was mind magic like? If this was it, how could I get into Grian’s thoughts?

I imagined a door and gave it a nudge of emotion. A door appeared in the white space in front of me. I tried the knob. Locked.

So I imagined a key in my hand. This time, the knob turned, but a chain stopped me from continuing further. I imagined an axe and hacked through it with one swipe.

Beyond the door…

I caught only a glimpse. A massive, hulking monster with jaws large as my torso, skin rippling and moist. A little girl with blond hair appeared next to me, her hand on the door, trying to push it shut.

Grian pulled me away from the image, back into the darkness, shuffling through my memories again. I felt her pluck one away from the rest, a stinging pain like the pulling of hair. I caught a brief glimpse of it—a hooded figure, pale lips moving. I heard my reply as if through earplugs: “Done.”
My memory of the bargain I’d made with the Arbiter
. She walled it away as I screamed.

And then the world returned in a blink. Grian pulled her hand from mine, and the crown settled. No one said a word. Had it only been a moment?

“Rise, victor,” Grian said.

I rose, not sure what else to do. The Queen regarded me for a moment before leaning in. She breathed in my ear and I flinched. “Nicole,” she said, “I know how to break you.”

I stood perfectly still.

She pulled away, reached down, and plucked the golden ball from Tristan’s grasp. His eyes unclouded. Grian put a hand to his back and nudged him in my direction. “Take him,” she said.

There had to be a catch.

“Auntie Nicky?” Tristan said. His lower lip wobbled.

I had him in my arms before I realized I’d moved. He started to cry. I rubbed his back. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m taking you home, back to Mommy and Daddy.”

“For trying to invade my mind,” Grian said, “I banish you from my realm. If any of my subjects sees you here, they are to kill you on sight. Any other families that offer you safe harbor will have to answer to me.”

A low murmur ran through the crowd. I searched the crowd for Dorian and found him seated near Grian’s box. He studiously avoided my gaze.

Grian drew a piece of moonstone from the folds of her dress. She walked to the wall behind her seat and drew a doorway. She moved to the side. “Nicole, I am letting you go.”

“I…what?” I still knelt on the ground, my arms around my nephew.

“You are to return to the mortal world and not trouble me again. And why should you? You have nothing left to fight for.” Her icy blue eyes glittered as she spoke. “Go. Now. Before I change my mind.”

I didn’t ask again. I clutched Tristan tight to my chest and stood. “Hold on, kiddo. I want you to close your eyes.” Without waiting for confirmation, I plunged through the doorway.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I arrived at the stadium mid-morning. The chilly air struck me, sending goosebumps up and down my arms. I didn’t have my phone, so I started to walk. I’d walked for twenty minutes, shivering the entire way, when someone pulled over and offered a ride. I was exhausted and hurried, and with Tristan in my arms, swathed in bright green, and me dressed in only a sports bra, pants, and a crown of roses, I certainly stood out. The woman looked nice enough, so I agreed. I made up a story about my car breaking down, a costume party, and losing my phone in one day. She made sympathetic noises and dropped me off right in front of Lainey’s house.

Tristan slept. Poor kid. Must have been a lot to go through. I hoped he didn’t remember any of it in the morning. Last thing I wanted was to be the cause of a huge therapy bill for Lainey and Mark.

Lainey opened the door before I even had a chance to knock. She swept Tristan from my arms, clasping him tight, the tears running down her face as she kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. “My baby,” she said. “You’re safe, you’re okay.”

Tristan wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Thank you,” Mark came up from behind Lainey, carrying Justine. His face was wet with tears.

“What happened?” Lainey said, her arms still around Tristan. She lifted him.

How could I explain everything? I felt empty, like a hollowed-out gourd. “I won,” I said simply.

“You want to stay, honey? I can make up the couch for you.”

I shook my head. “I just want to go home. Can you drive me?”

She nodded. “Sure, sweetie. Give me just a second.” She took Tristan inside, readied him for bed. I lingered in the hallway and rested my head against the wall. I’d won. Why didn’t I feel like I’d won? I’d probably still have problems with hobgoblins and random Fae wanting to kill me, but at least Grian would leave me alone. And yet she’d
wanted
to let me go. It didn’t make any sense.

I needed to rest, to take a hot bath, to sleep in my own bed. In the morning I’d feel more like myself, and these things would make more sense.

Mark approached me before I left, a couple boxes in his hand. “Ammo,” he said, pressing them into my palm. “Keep the gun. I have the feeling you need it more than I do.” I didn’t protest.

Lainey drove me home, leaning over every once in a while to pat my back or give me a worried look. “You seem different,” she told me at a stoplight. “Like you’re not all there.”

“I almost killed a man. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I had my brains rattled by a Fae Queen. Can’t expect me to be normal right now.”

“Okay,” Lainey said, though she sounded uncertain. She took a deep breath. “Well, if you need anything, I’m just a phone call away, okay?”

I looked out the window and watched the streetlights and houses pass by in a blur. “I just need my life to be normal again.”

Lainey didn’t say anything for a while. She pulled into my driveway, but when I unbuckled my seatbelt, she grabbed my arm. “I have to tell you this because I’m your sister. You’re not normal, Nicole. You’re a Changeling. Maybe you can go back to your life like it was, but maybe you can’t. I just don’t want to see you try to be something you’re not.”

“We can talk about this later.” My own bed. A hot meal.

She threw her arms around me. “Thank you. Again. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I nodded and got out of the car. When I flipped on the light switch just inside the door, I just stared. My house didn’t feel like home anymore. I’d been gone for several days, but so many things had happened in that time. Or maybe it was me that had changed, so much that my house didn’t fit me anymore. Owen was gone. Kailen was gone. I was alone.

After a frozen dinner and a hot bath, I crawled into bed. This was where I belonged.

Wasn’t it?

I woke up some time past nine in the morning. It was the weekend, so I didn’t have work. Usually Owen and I would each do the things we enjoyed, separately—him playing video games, me curling on the couch with a good book or taking a walk around the neighborhood. Or even sneaking a little work back home. Owen wasn’t here.

When I went downstairs, the hobgoblin stains filled my vision. I wasn’t quite sure what Talent was used to clean those up, and I didn’t really have it in me at the moment. I could call Kailen, but I discarded the notion. Call Kailen to have him clean up carpet stains? What was I, helpless?

I called a carpet cleaning service, and they said they’d be by in the afternoon.