Saffron Wilds by Kai Butler

CHAPTER FOUR

“No. Too boring.”Purple made a farting noise, pressing the palms of her hands to her lips.

I swiped my finger across my phone. “What about this one?”

“Eh.” Yellow made a seesawing motion with her palm. “I don’t think he’s going to go for gems inlaid into the metal. He’s a classy guy. He needs classic.”

“You just said my last one was too boring!” I complained.

“A plain silver band? I said classic, not something you can pick up at Walmart.” Yellow peeled her lips back from razor-sharp teeth. Spinning, she pointed at Green. “That is my sandwich. Touch it and I will rip your face off.”

Before Green could back away from the slice of party sub I had picked up on my way to Silverwood, Yellow launched herself at the other brownie. They rolled off the bench we were all sitting on, getting lost in the tangle of vibrant greenery around us.

“What about something like this?” Pink said, looking up from my cell phone.

She had somehow managed to navigate to a different section of the jewelry website, finding a beautiful platinum band with a complicated finish that looked like snowflakes layered on top of each other. I considered it. It was silver and did look classic. Even the finish was modern.

“You don’t think it’s too much?”

“I think with your face and your whole”—Purple gestured to my body, my slouch, probably my life choices as well—“too much is the least you could go for.”

“Avoiding court?” Shannon called from the back door.

She looked good, her chestnut hair woven together in a loose braid down her back. The brownies clambered up the bench to stare at her with stupid grins on their faces as though they’d been hit directly by one of Lover’s spells.

Shannon wore a pair of faded jeans and a loose V-neck shirt. I didn’t see the crown on her head, but I could sense it like it was a pot on the stove. I could feel it was hot, even though the burner had been turned off underneath it.

“I’m not avoiding it. Court doesn’t start for another”—I checked my watch—“twenty-five minutes. It’s a special session anyway. We have court again on Wednesday. The only reason I even allowed this was because Queen Celandine wanted to waste the entire meeting on legal details last time.”

“Contractual specifics,” Shannon teased. “I can see why you’re avoiding it.”

She gently brushed the brownies aside and took a seat next to me on the bench. Grabbing one of the pieces of party sub, she took a bite. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“I’m trying to find a ring. Nick is convinced we can just have some quiet ceremony, but then he keeps talking about all the stuff he wants. Flowers. A reception. Fireworks.”

Shannon nodded and let the silence stretch between us. Just when I was about to start nervously spilling my guts to her, she let me off the hook. “You can’t keep holding court here.”

“Why not? The courtroom still works. You fixed the windows for me.” I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t see why anything has to change.”

“Change is part of life. I fixed the windows and the room because the house was incomplete without it. When the old Windrose built it, the room was part of the house. The spirit of the house required that room.” Shannon considered the surrounding garden, reaching up to brush her fingers across a wind chime the brownies had installed.

It rang with a brilliant silver sound, and Shannon smiled.

“The house needed the room. You don’t need the room. What you need is to make your own home. You can’t keep relying on other people’s.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, frowning. When she shot me an amused look, I held up both hands. “Genuinely, I don’t. I need the room to hold court. But I don’t understand what you’re talking about with making my own home.”

“When you came to us, you hadn’t had a home in so long that you forgot what it was like. And you keep living places, but no matter how long you’re in each of them, you never make them your own. You never lay claim to them.” Shannon raised her hand, palm open, indicating Silverwood. “You could have lived here a hundred years, and it only would have ever been Malcolm’s house.”

Frowning, I considered what she meant. I had lived in Silverwood for months, but the only changes I had made had been out of necessity. A new pot when we needed one, new sheets for the beds.

Sugar, Nick, and I had lived in my new apartment for months, but it was still the apartment. It wasn’t our home.

“You’re powerful, and part of your power relies on you having a place.” Shannon watched me, and I was sixteen again, truculent and refusing to understand something she was saying.

“Elestren—one of the other Windroses—never had her own place. She traveled from court to court.” I gestured with my hands, dropping my pointer finger in the air as though indicating Elestren moving around in a large circle.

“And in each of those courts, she didn’t have her own rooms? She didn’t require her things to remain untouched when she wasn’t there?” Shannon raised an eyebrow. “Try again, kiddo.”

I slouched forward. “Why now? Why are you just pointing this out now?”

“Because battle lines are being drawn. And I want you as safe as I can possibly make you. Having a home, having somewhere you are safe, is important. I…” Shannon shook her head. “When you have a home, you can invest in it. Magic, love, it’s important that you have somewhere.”

I thought about the apartment, about Señora Lima, the grandmother down the hall who would always bring over extra tamales when she was making them, and Andres, the kid who would ask for five bucks just to hold the elevator door but protected his sister with a vicious ferocity. I may not consider the apartment mine, but I felt affection toward them. They were mine.

“Here.” Shannon held out a small bundle. “I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you right away, but I just finished going through the storage unit Laurel put all our stuff in.”

I took it between my hands. The blue fabric was soft, woven so finely it felt like silk. Brushing my finger across it, I realized it was made of spiderweb.

“When you came to us, you didn’t have anything. After you went missing, we pressed the social worker to see if there was any information about where you had been.” Shannon’s face was unhappy. “We went to every single foster home you had ever been in, trying to find you. One of them ‘remembered’ this was yours after Marco started questioning them.”

In other words, one of my previous foster parents had stolen this, and Marco, phenomenal PI that he was, had Columbo’d whatever it was out of them.

I unwrapped it carefully. It had been tied with a ribbon as red as blood. Inside, I stared at a silver baby rattle, a necklace made from what looked like pearls, and a handful of dried seeds.

“What—” With my finger, I poked at them, my eyes going wide.

These were from the Far Realm. The rattle was made of something that looked like moonlight. It appeared silver, but it wasn’t a human metal at all. I rubbed my finger over the engraving on it, and the illustration came to life, decorative stars and moons swirling around it.

“These were with me when I was found?” I picked up the necklace, the pearls so fine I knew any collector would pay a fortune for them. When I looked at them, I felt a blanket of safety settle over my shoulders. The pearls would destroy themselves before letting me come to any harm.

“According to your social worker, yes. They should have gone with you to every foster home, but they didn’t come with you when you got to us. The foster parents two before us, well…”

“They didn’t sell them?” I nudged the seeds with my finger, trying to sense what spirits were inside.

“Would you sell these, ugly?” Pink’s eyes were wide, her teeth bared in hunger. “No one is going to sell these.”

Yellow reached out to touch the rattle, but Purple beat her to it. Balancing it between her hands, she looked at it speculatively.

“You know, we could do something with this.”

Before I could tell her no, Green’s eyes widened. She nodded her head vigorously. “We could! We could! A classic band. Maybe with some etchings or just a brushed silver look.”

“You want to make Nick’s wedding ring out of this,” I said slowly. “What are you going to do with the extra metal?”

“Fee for service,” Purple said. “No debt or obligation if you give it to us in exchange for the ring.”

I plucked the rattle from Purple, feeling the weight of the metal. I imagined what it would feel like on Nick’s finger, a reminder of my love for him. I imagined the silver gleam of the metal, mixing who I was, what I was, with what we were going to be together.

Before I could think too much about it, I said, “Do it.”

Within the blink of an eye, Purple plucked it from my fingers, and the brownies disappeared into the undergrowth. Shannon laughed.

“I think she wanted it gone before you changed your mind.”

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” I imagined a wedding band that looked like my car: fluorescent, too pink, and attracting all the wrong sorts of attention.

Shannon shook her head. “I’ll make sure they’re good.”

“That means I wasn’t just abandoned here.” I examined the seeds again. What sort of spirits did they contain? Were they spirits that would have cared for a young child?

“You were abandoned here.” Shannon said slowly. “But it looks like Lilacina wanted to leave you with something.”

“She didn’t just leave me to die.” I tried to say the words without venom, but they felt sharp on my tongue.

“If she had wanted you dead, she wouldn’t have left you somewhere where someone would find you.” Shannon reached over and patted my leg. “She could have left you in the desert or in the middle of the freeway.”

“She’s not a good person. One small act of kindness doesn’t change what she did.” Still, I tucked the necklace and the seeds into my satchel.

Shannon made a noncommittal noise. “I’m worried about Bastian. His magic is a lot like yours was when we first met, but he’s not letting me in. It would help if there was a fae around here who knew what it was like to try to fit in as a human. Maybe someone who could show him the ropes?”

“Wow, look at the time. I have court.” Before Shannon could pressure me into offering tutoring services, I leapt off the bench and headed inside. She didn’t chase after me, but I was under no illusion that meant she was letting it go.

An extra session of court had been called, as Queen Celandine wanted some reassurances before the ball that would celebrate her handing over power to the Summer Queen. I was a few minutes early, yet I could still feel the pulse of energy in the room.

As soon as I called on the oak wood throne, two of the doors burst into existence. Celandine’s opened with a flurry of flower blossoms while King Hawthorne’s opened with the crackle of dried leaves.

“Where is Balsam?” Hawthorne demanded.

“King Hawthorne of the Autumn Court. Welcome.” I took my seat, opening my palm to indicate his throne.

Queen Celandine gracefully perched on her own throne, although her eyes were narrowed at King Hawthorne.

“Queen Celandine,” I greeted. “How are things in the Spring Court?”

When she looked at me, I sensed she was pulling on a façade. She smiled, but for the first time, it didn’t feel as genuine as it usually did.

“There are alarming portents, I fear.” Her lips were tight.

“What do you mean?” My brows drew together, and the hand that gripped the oak wood staff tightened.

Before she could answer, ice spread across the room. King Hawthorne raised his foot, stamping down and releasing a small flicker of fire that turned it to water.

“King Hawthorne. This is my court. I urge you to respect that.” My words were sharp. Silverwood was still made of very, very flammable wood.

“I will, when he does.” Hawthorne raised his chin, lips pulled back.

King Balsam strode into the room, his fur-lined cape swirling behind him. Javor followed, his own expression blank.

I looked at the man who taught me swordplay for any clue as to what had all three monarchs at each other’s throats. Unfortunately, Javor gave me no clues, his eyes on his king. Balsam threw himself into his seat, leaning forward immediately to point at King Hawthorne.

“I will have an apology, or I will have your head, Hawthorne.” King Balsam moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, gripping it tightly.

“You will have no apology from me, instigator.” Hawthorne’s fingers drew along a dagger sheathed on his leg. “It is you who have given affront.”

Gripping the oak wood staff in both hands, I lifted it up and slammed it into the ground.

“Control yourselves and answer me. What has occurred?” My words boomed, echoing through the chamber with the force of my power.

Shadows seethed, toppling over each other as the Dark Realm’s door opened. Prince Talon stepped through, his face drawn, glaring at the assembled.

“Do not tell me one of them has also offended you. There is only so much detention I’m willing to hand out today.”

Talon took his throne. “No, the Dark Realm has suffered no offense from the Far Realm. However, we have heard the first whispers of my beloved. Nothing solid. Nothing my father will let me pursue. Just…whispers.”

I looked back at the other monarchs. “One of you will go first. And you will tell the truth as you know it. I want no interruptions. Each of you will have your own chance to talk.”

“My men have found evidence of an incursion into our kingdom. Dead game, Autumn Court arrows in our trees. One of my men recovered an earring from the Autumn Court on the palace grounds.” King Balsam bared his teeth and glared at King Hawthorne. “All the evidence points to the Autumn Court’s attempt to provoke me.”

King Hawthorne laughed, a sharp bark that broke the silence of the room. I held up my hand, and he slouched back in his chair, arms crossed.

“Is there anything else, King Balsam?”

“There has been peace for so long, Hawthorne. Why would you threaten it with parlor tricks?” Balsam’s eyes flashed white, an incoming snowstorm that would blanket a city in a moment.

“I instigate?” Hawthorne leaned forward. “An entire herd of our livestock frozen. Crops we need to store for winter frozen. Even the rivers we use to water our fields and quench our thirst are frozen.”

One hand on the arm of his throne curled into a fist, and he slammed it down, cracking the dried twigs underneath. “We approach summer, and you would have me believe this was…what? Chance? I will not let my people starve, Balsam.”

Both kings glared at each other, then began speaking over each other, Hawthorne accusing Balsam of creating an artificial famine, Balsam accusing Hawthorne of attempted regicide, both denying they had done what the other accused them of.

I drew the oak wood staff up and sent it thundering to the ground. “Enough. Queen Celandine?”

“The Spring Court has seen no evidence of foul play, however…” She considered the two kings before her. “I do wonder why we are missing one of our fellow monarchs.”

Silence stretched in the room as we all became aware that there was space for a Summer throne, but one had not appeared.

The Summer Queen was missing.