Page 144 of Cathmoir's Sons

Despite looking more knightly than kingly, the Holly King bows low over Caileán’s hand and murmurs a gentlemanly greeting.

“There were two moons shining in the scrying pond in Tsara D’Asmodei’s garden,” Luca says quietly from beside me. He and Law have escorted Didrane on this strange quintuple date. Or is it only a triple date when there are three women between us? I don’t know. This polyamory thing gets confusing. “Do you think they’re the same moons?”

“Billions of moons in billions of skies,” I say, tipping my head back to look at the two moons shining over the grove and thinking of the vastness of the space surrounding them. “No reason they would be.”

“No reason they wouldn’t be,” Luca responds with a grin. “You must have missed the theory of convergences during all that White Cloak training.”

He nods at the blue training mantle I’m wearing over the black leather. The twins are wearing almost identical black leather, but Luca’s topped his leather pants with a blue andgreen plaid kilt and Law’s chest is bare under a black leather duster. I’ve given up trying to find occasions where both of them keep their shirts on. At least the sight of Law’s chest doesn’t turn me on. Erections in leather pants are uncomfortable, I’ve already discovered.

“I didn’t miss the theory of convergences, nerd. I just wouldn’t apply it to demons and high fae.”

Luca’s grin rivals Hraena’s. “Gotta keep an open mind, lover,” he tells me. “Look for interesting intersections. Like demonic additions to the guest list.”

After taking Law on yet another field trip to Hell, Jou and the mohawked demon who made shortbread with Caileán and kept suggesting the most unlikely baby names –Heneage,Madrigal,Garfunkle– went home. And we all agreed that was a good thing. Or so I thought.

“You wouldn’t,” I protest, although I know perfectly well my kit would.

Luca slips his phone out of his pocket and shows me the group chat on his screen.

SpareCat: High fae = boring. Send help.

BaronAsh: Help on the way. Just let me finish putting the babies to bed.

“Lu,” I chide. “That’s not going to calm anything down. Tell him you’ve changed your mind.”

Luca clucks his tongue softly. “You’re proceeding from an incorrect premise. I don’t want to calm anything down. I want to create a little chaos. Turn all these fucking stuffy fuckers on their heads.”

I glance at Caileán, expecting disapproval. She’s talking to the Holly King, but her eyes are on us, and they’re lit with a smile as wide as Luca’s.

Okay, so we’re all aboard the chaos train. In that case ...

I take Luca’s free hand and move toward Caileán and the Holly King. “Dance with us.”

Her eyebrows lift a fraction before she catches Luca’s wrist and takes a skipping step, pulling Lu and the Holly King with her. Hraena steps into me and then we’re all circling widdershins. Law steps in between Hraena and the Holly King before they link hands and our circle widens. Before we make another full revolution, Didrane takes Law’s and the Holly King’s hands, and our circle stretches so wide the Holly King’s entourage are pressed back against his namesake trees.

I’m not sure who starts laughing, but once it starts, it’s contagious. Caileán’s clear, soft laugh is echoed by Didrane’s deeper alto. Hraena chuckles. The Cait purr tickles through the air. Finally, the Holly King lifts his face to the moonlight and laughs with us.

Our laughter provides a beat for our steps. From somewhere in the trees a drum and pipes join in. Will o’ the wisps slip out from between the holly trees and circle us dizzily. Thin streams of Elemental magic, Water, Air, Fire, and from the Holly King, Earth, trail after the will o’ the wisps like ribbons.

In the center of our circle, our Elements coalesce in a glowing ball. The Mother’s magic reflects green and gold from the eyes of the dancers and those who gather to watch: the Holly King’s entourage, nine black-robed fae, the Summer Prince and his centaur, Klaya Blackmaben, and finally, the towering, horned chief knight, Emnyre. The fae watch us with varying degrees of suspicion and scorn.

Caileán’s eyes glow brighter and brighter in response to the glowers. By the time our circle dissolves, she’s brighter than the moonlight and her magic sizzles through the air with the high scent of ozone.

The Holly King bows low in front of Caileán. He lifts his mailed hands and carefully slides the Crown of the North off over his antlers. Kneeling, he offers her the crown.

Caileán takes the crown and settles it on her head, eclipsing his diamonds. Massive wings, black as smoke and as ephemeral as shades, spread from Caileán’s back. The other two Crow Queens unfurl their wings, white and midnight blue, feathers snapping through the electrified air. Crows and magpies swirl out of the holly grove, their metallic cries echoing through the barrow. A thousand will o’ the wisps, freed of whatever compulsion held them in the high fae court, burst out of the trees and toward the moons.

The Holly King rises and offers Caileán his arm. “Let me introduce you to the Oak King, Queen Caileán.”

Law bristles and stalks after the pair. Luca grabs my hand and pulls me after his twin.

As we pass into stands of silver birch, I realize I’ve gained a shadow. When I glance back over my shoulder, I find a demon lord who has finished with bedtime trailing us, his own crown a glowing blue spiral between horns even bigger than Emnyre’s.

“Looks like things have picked up,” Jou observes.

“We’re off to see the wiz-king, the wonderful wiz-king of Oak,” Luca responds with a wink.

“Because of the wonderful things he does?” The demon snorts.

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