Holly vs Oak Read online

  I didn’t wanna know what one night in this room cost.

  The Holly King bypassed the sofa and headed down a hallway on the left of the fireplace. As he passed, he snapped his fingers. Flame sprang up in the fireplace.

  Two of the guards followed the King. The third came to stand beside me in front of the fireplace.

  “I did not expect to see you,” my uncle said. He let the robe slip down his arms, revealing a deep blue tunic over dark pants. They shimmered the way faerie fabric did in the light.

  I cocked at eyebrow as I glanced at him sideways. “Oh really?”

  “I did not expect there to be any trouble. This was to be merely an exhibition for the ritual of midwinter. Now someone has determined to make it something else.”

  He frowned, worry lines crinkling his face in places they never had before.

  He wasn’t lying. This had been unexpected.

  I shifted so I faced him directly. He was my mother’s younger brother but he had always acted older. Regal and responsible. He looked so much like her, but different. The slim line of his nose, the square jaw, the way his hair fell across his forehead, even the spread of his wings whenever he took flight. Memories from my childhood threatened to send me into a wave of nostalgia. I pushed it back. I had a job to do.

  “Tell me how this all came about,” I said. “And what’s been going on since you got here.”

  Ulvar flashed a smile. “Still being the detective, Mauve? Questioning me?”

  “I’m trying to get a handle on why someone would try to hurt the Holly King,” I said.

  The smile faded from my uncle’s face. He turned to watch the flames dancing in the fireplace.

  “There were some who were not happy about this exhibition,” he said. “Some thought it undignified to perform the midwinter ritual here in the normal world.”

  The muscles along my back clenched, making my wings quiver. There were always those who thought any connection to the normal world tainted those in the Nether Realm. They wanted to pretend the Great Tear didn’t exist, that by ignoring the normal world they wouldn’t have to deal with it. But the Great Tear had happened and it seemed the only way to deal with it was to deal with each other. Anything less seemed to have an effect on the strange dimensional rift that cut a swath through our worlds.

  “Did these someones do anything about it?” I asked.

  Ulvar shook his head. “Nothing concrete. Vague whispers. Smokey enchantments. Just enough to make their displeasure known. I didn’t take it seriously. I still don’t, not really. It is the ones who say nothing that concern me.”

  Now it was my turn to nod. I knew what he meant. The ones who really disapproved wouldn’t telegraph their actions. They would just take it.

  “Okay. I’m going to ward the room and then I want to see your schedule over the next two days. Anything not urgent will have to be cancelled.”

  I held up a hand as my uncle opened his mouth to speak.

  “We’re not taking any chances,” I said. “This is the first time we’ve had this here in the normal world and I want it to go smoothly.”

  Before he could protest, I turned away and headed for the windows. First step, make the room secure.

  Then I would review everyone in it.

  It took me over an hour and much concentration to completely ward the room. By the end of it, I had a headache that flowed from my forehead, over the top of my head, and down to my shoulders. My right hand felt cramped from clenching my wand. I shoved it back into my holster strapped to my thigh.

  The flame still crackled in the fireplace. I turned away from it, toward the three door cabinet. In the mini-fridge, I found a bottle of water. The seal cracked like the sound of an explosion when I twisted the top. I winced at it and then took a long swallow from the bottle. When I released it, half the water was gone. The vice tightening around my head seemed to loosen. Just a little.

  I carried the bottle over to the windows and looked out over the city.

  Snow had draped a white blanket over most of the buildings. Twinkling lights of red, gold, and blue hung in wires that crisscrossed many of the major streets. The Incantation River, a thick, dark line that split the city in two, was crusted with ice. Another few days and the skaters would appear. They thought they were risking the water not being frozen enough for skating but they didn’t realize they risked more than that.

  Because of the Great Tear, the Incantation River had a tendency to shift and change direction and location, with no discernible warning. No one knew what would happen if any one was on the river when the next change occurred. So far, no one ever had been but I knew some day it would happen. Someone would be on the river, skating, or swimming, boating, or maybe even fishing. Close enough to be affected by whatever great magic caused the river to shift and relocate.

  I shuddered thinking about it. Would they be lost in the void between dimensions? Would they be thrown into the Nether Realm?

  No way to know unless it happened. Until it happened.

  “I have never seen such a place,” came a voice behind me. “The lights are not magic?”

  I turned my head. Pain stabbed up my neck. I managed to stop myself from blanching and merely winced.

  The Holly King stood just behind me. He stepped forward until he was standing in front of the window with me. His pale skin looked a little less blotchy. His eyes looked a brighter blue. Whatever rest he’d managed had done him good.

  “It’s electricity,” I said. “I don’t know much about it.”

  “So many wonders,” he said. “I fear I became overwhelmed with it. Before I was chosen the Holly King I had never even been to the North Court.”

  I turned toward him, studying him. “I thought the Holly King was chosen from the noble houses?”

  “It has been opened to all for many years now.” He tilted his head, studying me. “How long have you been here?”

  I smiled. “In some ways, too long and others, not long enough.”

  He laughed. “A true faerie answer.”

  He turned back to look at the city lights, twinkling in different colours against the dark sky.

  How many things had changed in the Nether Realm while I had been here? More than I had expected, especially in the North Faerie Court. The position of Holly King open to all in the North Court, who would have thought? That meant that the position of Oak King was also open to all as the South Faerie Court reflected the North and back again. Neither would enact something so revolutionary without the other following suit soon after.

  Such a change opened up a whole new world of possibilities for suspects. Faeries were notoriously conservative and slow to change. Such a radical shift would disturb many. And then to arrange an exhibit fight here in the normal world, well, that could be too much.

  I sighed. I had my work cut out for me.

  I left the Holly King to his view and went to study the itinerary. If I had my way, we’d sit in this hotel room until the fight, but that wasn’t possible. The whole point of the exhibition was to create awareness and acceptance between the two dimensions. That meant public appearances.

  Which meant logistical nightmares for security.

  Dammit, why hadn’t I asked for vacation ages ago?

  The next two days were a flurry of appearances. Press conferences in malls. Photo appearances on the steps of City Hall. More photo ops at the entrance to Black Forrest Park. A ribbon cutting at a dock on Deep Pool Lake, a dock that had been open for almost a year.

  My head throbbed with the pressure of constantly scanning the crowds, searching for any trace of magic, trying to block out the residual energies from the magical creatures who were supposed to be there.

  It was an impossible job.

  But slowly the hours passed with the Holly King waving and smiling to the crowd. Spreading his wings and lifting up above them for a better photo.

  Until the sun began to dip below the jagged edge of the city skyline.

  “That is enough f
or today,” Ulvar said. He touched the Holly King’s elbow as they stood on the stairs to City Hall.

  The Holly King gave a nod and began to back up the stairs, still smiling and waving to the crowd. He may have been from the backwaters of the North Faerie Court but he was working the crowd like a champ.

  Finally when we reached the top of the stairs, he turned away. The faerie guard in their long robes closed around him. I brought up the rear.

  The air seemed to sparkle with early twilight even though it was only four in the afternoon. The concrete stairs and the wide expanse leading to the multiple sets of double doors into City Hall had been swept of snow. The black marble was mottled with sprinkled dirt. There had been a big push in the city to get away from using salt because of the corrosive effect on car and on the concrete itself.

  Sprinkled dirt helped some but not as much. There was still slipping hazards. It wasn’t like bare ground was immune to being slippery.

  Ground.

  Dirt.

  Summer.

  Wait!

  I leapt forward. Shoved past the first robed guard. Another blocked my way. I grabbed his arm, yanking hard. He fell back. The rich scent of earth filled the air. I caught sight of a swirl of blue fabric. Moving forward.

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  Heads turned toward me. The guard of faeries froze. A chill wind rustled the ends of their robes, giving the illusion of movement.

  I’d done it. I’d stopped them.

  Except the blue fabric was moving faster than the wind.

  The Holly King took another step.

  His feet flew backward, sliding on dirt that seemed to shuffle under his feet. I saw my uncle reaching, his lips moving in a spell.

  Then the hard crunch of bone as the Holly King hit the pavement.

  “Broken arm,” my uncle said.

  We stood clustered by the window in the hotel room. My uncle had his back to the magnificent view as the city lights twinkled beyond, oblivious to the disaster.

  Captain Hwon stood on my uncle’s left. A slight frown dimpled his lips. He wore a beige, knee-length, wool coat over his dark charcoal-grey suit. His black hair was perfectly in place.

  “That doesn’t sound too serious,” Hwon said.

  My uncle looked at me. “He does not understand.”

  I sighed. I had to play translator again. I hated having to translate cultural norms. It was too easy to screw up.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “The Holly King can’t fight and he has to. It’s a ritual. The Holly King and the Oak King must meet in battle at midwinter. They must be equally matched. To have one injured beforehand is to threaten the balance, not just here but in the Nether Realm.”

  The dimpled frown deepened. “Can’t someone else fight for him?” the captain asked. “One of you?” He gestured to my uncle.

  Ulvar shook his head. “We are sworn protectors. We are not eligible to take over for the Holly King. It has to be one unconnected to the guard.”

  “Then can’t you call for a substitute from the North Court?” Hwon asked.

  “It is too late,” Ulvar said. “The fight is tomorrow. It cannot be delayed.”

  “We’re screwed,” I said.

  My bold eloquence shut them all up. I stared out the window. The Incantation River was a dark line that zig zagged through the flickering lights decorating the city. From this high up, it was impossible to see anyone on the street, but I knew they would be there, hurrying along, bundled in winter coats. Some cursing the cold weather, others lifting their faces to the crisp, cool air. Most of them, regular people just living their lives. The disproportionate few trying to harness or exploit the energy released through the Great Tear.

  Those dangerous few who threatened the balance, and the lives, of all of those regular people. The regular people I swore to protect. The few I swore to stop.

  Now another threat had been dropped right at my feet.

  And I knew what I had to do.

  I turned my back to the window and faced my uncle.

  “I will fight as the Holly King,” I said.

  And even as the words left my mouth, I knew I was really screwed.

  The sound of the crowd was a constant throbbing hum in the dressing room of the main sports arena. I felt like I was deep underground, in some bomb shelter. The dressing room certainly exacerbated the feeling with the grey concrete walls and the concrete floor. Bland, beige area rugs had been tossed onto the floor but I could feel the hardness of the concrete through them. Framed photos of the Crossroad City Trailblazers decorated the wall above a lumpy, faded, burgundy sofa.

  Opposite that was a dressing table, complete with a huge mirror surrounded by blazing lights.

  Revealing me, dressed as the Holly King.

  The frosted blue outfit moulded to my figure like a sheet of ice. It had originally been intended for a male faerie but the fabric had certainly woven itself around me in a way that accentuated my figure. Streaks of white rippled down when I moved. Over top, I wore the blue robes with a tall, white collar that looked like it was made of wings carved of ice. Against the blue and white, my skin looked even paler than normal. The blue of my wings, usually a deep, rich colour, now matched the blue of the robes, looking ice cold.

  My blazing red hair had been pulled back, braided, and tucked into a tight bun at the base of my skull. Strings with beads of white had been wrapped around my head, looking like a mix between a crown and snowflakes. Somehow it drained my red hair of colour, making it look frosted.

  I had never looked more like a Winter Faerie and it felt decidedly weird.

  Over the rumbling of the crowd, I heard a knock on the dressing room door.

  I turned away from the mirror.

  “Come in.”

  The door swung open and Trevel ducked as he entered. He stayed hunched as he stepped into the room, his shoulders almost brushing the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. His bend head created a pool of shadows across his face and chest but I could still see the widening of his eyes as he looked at me.

  I pointed a finger at him. “Not a word.”

  He held up his hands and shook his head. “They sent me in to get you. Mauve, are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Want to? No. Have to? Yes,” I said. “Who else are they going to get at such short notice? It has to be a faerie from the North Court. It can’t be one of the guards. There isn’t anyone else.”

  Shadows deepened on Trevel’s face as he frowned. “I don’t like it. The summer faeries have been sabotaging this fight and you’re playing right into their game.”

  “Don’t, Trevel. I’m nervous enough as it is.”

  “Mauve…” he said.

  I held up my hand. “Stop. I expect you to stop fretting about me and keep an eye on everything else. You’re my backup, right?”

  He straightened as much as the lower ceiling would let him.

  “Of course,” he said.

  I nodded. “I’m going undercover, that’s all.”

  Saying it out loud actually helped. I wasn’t the Holly King, I was just acting the part. Setting up the sting. And Trevel would have my back.

  That gave me some comfort. Enough to let my heart slow from the steady gallop to a more reasonable pace.

  I picked up the Holly King’s sceptre, a rod of blue with white streaks spiralling down it. At first it felt cold as ice, then seemed to meld to my hand. A surge of magic tingled through me, leaving my wings quivering. I gave a nod and we left the dressing room.

  As soon as we passed through the door, the wall of sound hit me, vibrating along my nerve ending. The sound seemed to go on and on, as if no one needed to stop for breath, just an ending hum of chants and cheers.

  The large hallway angled upward and the yells led the way, increasing in volume with every step. Cool florescent lighting created a twilight zone of dim lighting with no shadows. Ahead, I spotted a whiter light, expanding as the sound expanded.

  It opened to fill the
auditorium.

  The noise was deafening. The stadium was filled with people, rows and rows stretching upward and disappearing into darkness above the hanging lamp that shone on the ring in the centre. It was set up like a boxing ring, a few stretches of rope separating the fighters from the onlookers.

  The path led straight to the side of the ring. People hung over either side, cheering, jeering, yelling. The air held the bite of a chill but as I stepped onto the path, I felt the heat radiating from all those bodies.

  The yeasty stench of beer floated like a cloud, punctuated with the smell of popcorn and burnt hot dogs. It made my stomach curdle. Bile burned the back of my throat. My legs trembled as I walked. It felt hard to pull the stuffy air into my lungs. I gripped the sceptre so hard my fingers ached.

  My shoulders tightened with every step. The crowd seemed to get louder and louder as I moved toward the ring. How could this many people fit in this space? How could there be any air?

  Stop it. I was giving myself a panic attack. I forced myself to look straight. Stop looking at the sides, stop looking at the people. I was here to get to the ring. I was here to be the Holly King.

  That was all I had to do.

  As I stared at the off-white canvas floor, my breath came a little easier. My shoulders loosened. My fingers stopped throbbing.

  It was going to be all right.

  Then I spotted the Oak King.

  He was tall for a faerie, probably six feet or more. His body was shrouded in browns and greens that shifted in the light like the dancing of leaves in a breeze. He carried a staff of brown that looked like a bent branch but I could feel the energy pulsing from it even across the arena. Leaves made a living crown on his head, reflecting the vibrant green of his wings.

  He leapt into the air, soaring over the ropes, and landed in the centre of the ring.

  My stomach tightened again.