The battle a few days ago had dispelled some of the darkness encroaching on the human world, but not enough to restore the day to its full brightness. Scientists were unable to explain the phenomena, quieting people’s questions with vague answers of climate change as dusk fell earlier each day. The news anchors spoke in measured tones about atmospheric anomalies and solar irregularities, but their eyes betrayed the fear they couldn’t voice. Children pressed their faces to windows, asking their parents why the sun seemed so dim, why the shadows stretched longer each morning. Deema could explain it all.
She took one last glance at the sky and stepped through the portal and home. The familiar shimmer of magic wrapped around her like an embrace, and the sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine filled her nostrils. It filled her with joy to be allowed back after her past bad decisions. The mistakes that had nearly cost them everything still haunted her dreams, but Queen Linette’s forgiveness had been complete. Trust, however, would take time to rebuild.
The faeries had fared well in the battle against Kasdeya’s minions, but not a day went by that the air in The Glen didn’t ring with the clash of swords in preparation for the next battle. Young warriors practiced their forms on crystalline training grounds while seasoned fighters sparred with weapons that hummed with ancient power. The very trees seemed to lean in to watch, their silver bark gleaming with protective runes. With Abaddon freed from his chains, another battle was imminent, and the side for the Light needed more warriors. Every able-bodied fae had taken up arms, from the flower sprites who could weave poison from petals to the stone guardians who rarely stirred from their eternal vigil.
Deema headed straight for the infirmary where Queen Linette struggled to bounce back after a slice to her shoulder with a poisoned blade. The wound had turned a sickly green at the edges, and even the most potent healing potions could only slow the venom’s spread. Shayna fought her own uphill battle to recover from her injuries. She’d been drained of her blood after a vampire bite, the blood cleansed through painful ritual magic, then added back into her body. Not an easy or unpainful task. The process had left her weak and hollow-eyed, her usual fierce demeanor replaced by fragile determination. In the meantime, guarding New York City had fallen on Deema’s shoulders, and she wanted to give the task back to Shayna immediately. The weight of protecting eight million unsuspecting humans while battling creatures of darkness had nearly broken her.
She paused in the doorway of the infirmary and held her breath as Queen Linette handed her staff to Shayna. The ancient weapon gleamed with silver light, its crystal head pulsing with the heartbeat of The Glen itself. “I place The Glen and those of the fae world into your hands, Shayna. I may not regain my full strength and must use what little I have to oversee the making of new chains to bind Abaddon.” The queen’s voice carried the weight of centuries, each word carefully chosen.
“No, my queen.” Shayna stepped back, letting the staff fall to the marble floor with a clatter that echoed like breaking bells. “I cannot. I am a warrior, not a ruler. I know how to fight, how to protect, but I don’t know how to lead an entire realm.”
“You must.” The queen fell back onto a mound of pillows woven from spider silk and moonbeams. “I leave our people in good hands. You have the heart of a true leader, even if you cannot see it yet. Use—” She caught sight of Deema. “Ah, there she is. Come, my dear.” She held out a trembling hand, pale as winter frost. “You must work by Shayna’s side as she once did mine. Keep her safe, but more importantly, keep her grounded. Power without wisdom is destruction.”
Deema grasped the queen’s hand and bowed, feeling the fragile bones beneath papery skin. “I will do all in my power not to disappoint.” She choked back a sob. They would not survive without their queen’s guidance, not with Abaddon loose and the barriers between worlds growing thinner each day. She cursed Radella, the vampire bound in the dungeon deep beneath The Glen. The undead woman could stay there for eternity as far as Deema cared, chained with bonds forged from blessed silver and regret.
“Good.” The queen closed her eyes, and for a moment she looked every one of her thousand years. “I leave in two days’ time, whether I am well or not. The forge-masters of the mountain realm await, and the chains must be completed before the new moon. Evil waits for no one. Go, I must rest.”
Deema picked up the staff, feeling its power sing through her bones, and handed it to Shayna. The crystal at its head flared brighter as it recognized its new mistress. “You can do this. You’ve led us through battles that should have been impossible to win.”
She shook her head, her eyes swimming with tears that caught the magical light like diamonds. “It isn’t my place. I was not born to rule. I was born to fight beside those who were.”
“It is now. For a time, at least.” She closed Shayna’s fingers around the staff, feeling the magic bind itself to her friend’s essence. “I will help you. We all will.” She bowed deeply. “My queen.”
A sob escaped Shayna as the full weight of responsibility settled on her shoulders like a mantle of lead. “Do get up. We will reign together, then. I cannot do this alone.”
Deema glanced up and gasped softly. “Already the light around you glows brighter.” She smiled, seeing the golden aura that surrounded all true rulers of the fae. “Just don’t let it go to your head.”
Shayna gave a shuddering laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her free hand. “I’m sure you will keep me in my place. Shall we let our friends know? The others should hear this from us, not from palace gossip.” Her eyes widened as a new thought struck her. “Am I allowed to leave this place? Can a queen abandon her realm?”
Queen Linette chuckled, a sound like silver bells in a gentle breeze. “You are queen. You may do as you please as long as matters are cared for here first. The Glen is your top priority, but the human world needs you, too. The boundaries blur more each day.” She waved a weak hand. “I know I handed over my staff, but I did ask you to leave so I may rest. Even queens must listen to their advisors sometimes.”
“We will go.” Deema gave Shayna a nudge toward the door, eager to see Clark Payson, her favorite of the three human detectives who helped the fae. The man had a way of making even the most dire situations seem manageable with his steady presence and dry humor.
Faerie after faerie bowed as the two walked by, word spreading through The Glen faster than wildfire. The staff clutched in Shayna’s hand was all they needed in order to know the reign of power rested with another. Some looked worried, others hopeful, but all showed the proper respect. Children peeked around their parents’ legs, wide-eyed at seeing their new queen. Shayna tried to smile reassuringly at them, though she felt anything but reassured herself.
At the entrance to the portal, Shayna stopped and glanced at the staff, its crystal head now pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. “I cannot take this with me, can I? Surely the humans would notice a glowing magical staff.”
Deema shrugged. “Maybe it turns to something else in the human world. The magic knows how to adapt. Let’s see.”
With a nod and a deep breath, Shayna stepped into the portal. The familiar sensation of being pulled through dimensions made her stomach lurch, but she emerged in Central Park, New York City, still in one piece. She now clutched a blue umbrella and laughed despite herself. “Not a cloud in the sky, and I’ll have to carry this. Doesn’t go with the whole Special Agent façade, does it?”
“Humans are strange creatures. You’ll get a look or two and nothing more.” Deema grabbed her hand and teleported them to Shayna’s hotel room, where the witch, Agatha, engaged in her favorite pastime: watching talk shows on television.
She glanced up from where she sat cross-legged on the bed, her wild gray hair sticking up at odd angles. “You’re back. It’s good to see you both in one piece.” She flashed a snaggle-toothed grin. “What’s on the agenda for today? More demon hunting, or are we finally going to take a proper vacation?” Her gaze fell on the umbrella in Shayna’s hand and widened. The ancient witch possessed senses far keener than most, and she felt the power radiating from the disguised staff immediately. She flicked off the television and bowed her head. “Queen.”
“Please don’t put on any pretenses for me. I’m not your queen.” The words felt strange in Shayna’s mouth, a denial of something that felt both foreign and somehow right.
“But you are a queen. Did Linette die?” Agatha’s voice carried genuine concern. The witch had served the royal family for centuries.
“No, she’s occupied with other things. Forging chains to bind Abaddon requires her full attention and strength.” Shayna set the umbrella carefully against the wall. “Let’s visit the precinct, shall we? I need to let Pierce know of this change. He’ll need to understand why I might be… less available.”
“Most definitely.” Agatha changed into a large rottweiler and stood still while Shayna clipped a leash around her neck. Purely pretense, as it usually trailed on the ground behind them, but humans jumped back in fear when they caught sight of the large, unleashed dog. The transformation always amazed Deema—one moment a cranky old woman, the next a fearsome beast capable of tearing apart demons.
Deema’s best friend might now rule the fae world, and she would be stretched between ridding the human world of darkness and ruling the world of the fae, but she was still Shayna, warrior of the Light. For this, Deema was grateful. There was no other warrior as powerful except for Alvar, the traitor. That thought sent a chill through her—having such strength turned against them made every battle twice as dangerous.
Rather than teleport to the precinct and shock those who didn’t know who they really were, Deema hailed a cab. The driver, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, cast a wary glance at Agatha, but allowed them inside the vehicle after Shayna flashed her FBI credentials. Agatha bared her teeth in what might charitably be called a smile and leaped into the front passenger seat.
Deema laughed. She loved the feisty, ancient witch who enjoyed terrifying others, but had a warrior’s heart that had never failed them. Agatha had been old when Rome was young, and her experience in battle was invaluable.