Page 17 of A City of Emeralds and Envy
“Perhaps,” he replies. “Tell me everything that happened to both of you today.”
He stands motionless while Alice explains. I supplement her tale with a description of how I felt, both when I touched the book and during the whirlwind.
“I would need more data to be sure—tests that I cannot perform while I’m locked inside this shell.” Frustration tinges Riordan’s voice. “The cursed metal hinders my magic. But I can theorize, if you like.”
“Please do,” Alice says.
“I will supplement the information you provided with two facts—firstly, that the Tama Olc recognizes a member of its author’s bloodline—my ancestor’s bloodline. And secondly, in certain Fae families, relatives can sense each other’s presence, sometimes over great distances. The closer the familial bond, the stronger the connection. I would guess that when both of you were touching the book at the same time, a link was established between the three of us—two former owners of the book, and one current owner. Alice and I have been bonded in the most intimate of ways—her heart was literally grown from my—”
“We don’t need to tell Dorothy all the details of how you saved me.” Alice’s cheeks are scarlet.
“Very well. Suffice it to say that you and I are forever connected, kitten, and if you had a desire in your heart to come to Faerie, to see me, the book discerned it. At the same time it came under the influence of Dorothy, whom I can say with certainty is part Fae—and I would guess she is of my family. My blood.”
“Blood calls to blood,” I breathe.
“Precisely.”
“But neither of my parents are Fae.”
“Could one of them be in disguise? Glamoured? Have you ever noticed anything odd or inexplicable about them?”
I shake my head. “I’m the only odd, inexplicable one.”
“Perhaps you were found by your parents, or given to them.”
He says it so coolly, so matter-of-factly. As if he couldn’t imagine that it would bother me to learn I might have been adopted.
And the strange thing is—it doesn’t bother me. Although I know it should. Any normal person finding out such a thing about themselves would be shaken by the news—troubled at the very least—perhaps even agonized.
I feel nothing but a mild surprise. My emotion for the two people I call my parents remains the same—a nebulous, comfortable warmth. I’m not sure I could call it love—that word doesn’t seem to fit, exactly. I’ve only loved once, and that felt different.
Sometimes I think I’m broken. Wrong. That I don’t understand what it means to be human.
But according to this strange armored being—I’m not entirely human. I’m part Fae. Part of his family.
“So you two are related.” Relief mingles with the interest in Alice’s voice. “That’s good.”
“None of this matters,” I say. “It has nothing to do with where we are, and no impact on what we’ll do next.”
Alice stares at me, and I swear I can feel the helmet staring, too.
“It matters because—becauseknowing thingsmatters,” Alice says. “Investigation, discovery, understanding—those pursuits matter."
"Indeed,” says the armor emphatically. They look at each other, and damn me if I can’t feel the very air between them humming with unsaid things.
“We should sleep.” I say. “We’ve got a long and dangerous journey starting tomorrow.”
“But… we shouldtalk,” Alice says, looking at the armor.
“You can talk tomorrow, while we’re traveling,” I say. “I assume you’ll be coming all the way to the Emerald City with us, Riordan? Not just escorting us to the forest?”
“The people here will expect me to return to them,” he says. “But I owe them nothing.”
“Why are you here, anyway?” Alice asks.
“Making myself useful. I had nowhere else to go. Without the need to sleep, eat, or drink, I’m the ideal guard.”
“What do you guard?” I eye him suspiciously.
