Page 11 of The Grip of Death
“Listen,” Reza said. “I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not like Sparrowheart and King Oberon are going to throw us out for being underdressed. It’ll be like a fancy restaurant. They’ll lendyou the right sort of jacket if you don’t live up to the dress code, you know?”
I snorted. “Is that why you wore that outfit?”
Reza stretched his arms out and glanced down at himself. “What’s wrong with this?”
I grunted when the back of Xander’s hand smacked me in the stomach.
“Jackson, don’t be mean. Like I said, I’m sure everything’s going to be fine.”
The two of us had decided to go with clean, pressed button-up polos and dress pants. Xander wore his shiny black oxfords, and I went with my grubby boots of hovering. Listen, Xander was right. King Oberon probably just wanted to catch up on his patio. We’d all drink some tea together, have a nice little picnic in one of his orchards, and that would be it. Hell, I was probably way overdressed already.
We made our way to the Green Room, the one hidden in the bowels of the academy that itself contained a portal to the Verdance. Mercifully, we did not run into a certain Madame Catherine Grayhaven en route.
I still wasn’t sure how I felt about Hecate planting a time-bomb in my body. On one hand, her meddling had been instrumental to defeating Queen Titania. There was a good chance I wouldn’t even be alive if she hadn’t intervened. But on the other, I really, really didn’t like the idea of her pulling the strings the way she did without so much as giving us a heads-up.
What was next? I knew she’d only planted her essence in my body because of the threat that Titania posed to reality at large, but Hecate could easily cause trouble for us again in the future, making me into her personal weapon without any warning. What if she decided that King Oberon was worth eliminating, too? What if she decided to use me as a strike drone again?
Boundaries. We needed boundaries.
“Time to cross over,” Xander said.
Speaking of boundaries, a pair of the older Grayhaven students had been stationed outside the portal, a sort of informal guard to ensure that there would be no shenanigans from either the academy or the Verdance side. Not that any of it had been necessary. The Court of Summer was the least of our worries in terms of potential problems from the Verdance.
“Everybody ready?” Reza asked.
We dove into the little pool that linked our world to the Verdance, emerging dry on the other side, just like always. The endpoint of the portal was a peaceful spot in the forest, somewhere in the Court of Summer, where a pair of guards from the palace were waiting. Unseen birds sang the sweetest of music, the air so warm and inviting.
Also waiting there was Sparrowheart herself. The Summer Knight was dressed in her reinforced wooden armor, its beautiful carving decorated with little flowers and fresh sprigs that grew out of the tiniest cracks in its surface. I stepped forward to shake her hand, but she gathered me up in an embrace instead. I couldn’t help smiling.
“We’re well past that, Jackson Pryde. Welcome back to the Summer Court.”
She greeted the rest of our group the same way, then led us back to the Palace of Briars, chatting the whole time.
Most of it was talking shit about Archibald Fletcher, as much shit-talking as a knight would allow herself. It seemed the man had made a reputation for himself in the Verdance, particularly after Sparrowheart had privately informed King Oberon that Archibald hadn’t actually left for urgent business.
“I could smell his cowardice from the start,” she declared proudly, leading us into the Palace of Briars.
The palace seemed even more beautiful than before, beams of sunlight piercing through the slats and lattices that formedits great walls. Outside sprawled the castle’s grand orchards, heaving with the most succulent of fae fruit. And everywhere, of course, grew the loveliest of flowers, peering in curiously from outside the windows, sprouting out of gaps in the palace’s patterned floors.
“This isn’t the way to the king’s chambers,” Sparrowheart explained.
She led us down a sun-strewn corridor, the walls formed by rows of living trees, the high roof a manicured network of leaves and branches. I thought I recognized the direction we were going, but the palace was enormous. I didn’t want to assume familiarity with any section of this incredible place, every corner of it so pretty, every window offering such a picturesque view.
I turned out to be right, after all. Xander elbowed me and nodded at the far end of the hall, at the doors that we knew would lead us out to one of the palace’s verandas. Birds twittered anew as the doors opened into the gardens, a balmy breeze brushing against my face, the sweetness of fruit and flowers filling my lungs.
And the sweetness of sweets, apparently. Each end of the veranda was lined with tables that groaned with fae delicacies. Beautifully iced cakes, dewy bowls of chilled juice and nectar, and the prettiest little sandwiches I’d ever seen. A garden party it was, then.
Niko glared at the rest of us like he’d lost a bet, then reached up to undo some of the buttons on his stuffy Grayhaven jacket. I opened my mouth, meaning to ask where King Oberon was, but Sparrowheart just pointed up. My jaw fell.
I’d seen it before, King Oberon in flight, but he’d never seemed quite this majestic. He fluttered above the tree line on massive wings, their color the deep black and striking orange of a monarch butterfly. I shielded my eyes as he shieldedhis, surveying his kingdom while he waited for his guests. Us. Humans! How far we’d come.
“My friends,” Oberon boomed. “Thank you for coming. How lovely to see you again.”
The King of Summer beat his great wings and sped toward the ground. The gust of wind drove more of the fragrances of the gardens toward us. His robes fell about him with a whoosh as his feet touched the grass, those beautiful butterfly wings settling against his back like a richly tailored cape. Breathtaking. The man knew how to make an entrance.
“Your Majesty,” I murmured, echoing and mirroring the others as they bowed.
Oberon shook his hands and his head. “Please, please, no more of these formalities, my human heroes. Thanks to you and the Summer Knight, both my court and my heart can begin the process of healing. The death of a high fae certainly leaves a scar on the face of the Verdance, but Titania wreaked more havoc than I could have imagined. Her demise was painful for us all, but it was necessary.”
