Page 120 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
All their faces held a similar question—even if they didn’t mean for Tyghan to see it. Will you kneel to Kormick and keep the peace? Or will Elphame go to war? What can you do that we haven’t already tried? If the most powerful kingdom in Elphame could lose their own king to Kormick, what chance did any of them have? As long as Cael was in Fomoria’s custody, Tyghan knew none of them would attempt to challenge Kormick. He needed to convince them that Danu had a plan and they should join their smaller forces with Danu. Every sword, soldier, and spell counted.
Halfway down the staircase, he heard the next announcement, Princess Melizan of the Danu Nation. By the time he reached the bottom step and walked across the ballroom to the outstretched hands of King Roderick of Timbercrest, the rest of the Danu party had descended. Almost all. The murmur of the crowd rose again, ready to resume the festivities, and of course comment on Tyghan’s apparent lack of a demon tail.
King Roderick immediately tried to draw Tyghan into a conversation, but Tyghan stopped him. “Your Majesty, there are a few more we wish for Elphame to meet.”
The leaves trailing over the spriggan king’s shoulders fluttered with curiosity. “But I thought—”
The herald’s trumpet blared again, and he announced, “The royal elite squad of the Danu Nation.”
CHAPTER 82
There was a ruffle of surprise.
A hushed murmur rolled through the ballroom.
Whispers. But all eyes were focused on the top of the wide staircase.
Bristol smiled, but inwardly she snorted at “elite squad.”Smoke and mirrors, she thought. That had to be Eris’s doing. But maybe right at this moment, they did feel elite, like they could conquer the world. They stood shoulder to shoulder and then the drums thumped, the low beat skittering through Bristol’s blood, empowering and primal, and the recruits began their descent. Halfway down the staircase, the hems of their lavish gowns rose, coaxed by a bit of ribbon and tailoring magic, and then six polished sticks flew through the air, launched by the officers at the bottom of the stairs.
The sticks spun, flipping end over end, seemingly suspended forever, then began their descent until one landed in each recruit’s hand. Then the real fun began. Fiddles rang sharp, bows burning over strings fast and bright as they accompanied the drums. Bristol dipped and circled; Avery and Sashka lunged; Julia twirled, regally stepping between them. Rose and Hollis moved in, closing up the sides, all their sticks meeting with perfect timing, the loud crack of wood on wood sounding in the air, thecrack, crack, crackof the traditional Danu dance reverberating through the hall—with unexpected modern moves woven in. There was a brief gasp of awe from below, but the recruits weren’t finished. Their steps were flawless as they worked their way down the stairs, practiced to perfection, weaving in and out of each other, then dancing back-to-back, twirling to the music, their sticks meeting again and again in mock battle, and finally flying overhead as they tossed them to each other and, on the last step, threw them back to the officers before they took a flamboyant, and very immodest, bow.Own the moment, Tyghan had said, and they did.
The ballroom exploded with cheers, which were immediately followed by the roar of chatter as everyone discussed the surprising entertainment—and the delicious impropriety of it all. Eris had objected to their inclusion of the nontraditional steps at first. He said he never heard of street dance before, but after he saw the Danu gentry mesmerized by the recruits’ unusual steps at nightly festivities, he agreed a few might be included.
The recruits proceeded straight to where Tyghan stood next to King Roderick so they could be introduced, as they had been instructed. Other than the dance on the stairs, Eris had fully choreographed every step of the evening—who they should talk to and whom they should avoid, what they should say, and what they absolutely shouldn’t. By the time they reached their appointed destination, the elven queen of Eideris and the ogre king of Greymarch had already moved in to greet Tyghan—and await introductions to the elite squad.
“What an enchanting surprise,” King Roderick said, the vines resting on his chest warming to a rosy hue as he cupped each of their hands between his own in traditional Timbercrest fashion. He lingered especially with Avery, curious about a fellow spriggan raised in the mortal world, but Kasta made sure questions were kept to a minimum. After a few niceties, Quin and the other officers stepped up to usher the recruits away to the banquet tables for refreshments, ostensibly so the monarchs could catch up on kingdom news. But in a quick moment, when Kasta strategically stepped between them and the monarchs, blocking them from view, Tyghan mouthedbeautifulto Bristol. In a gesture of thanks, she touched the emerald teardrops adorning her ears that he gave her the night before, but he whispered, “No.You.”
He gave her a last nod before they were whisked away, indicating they had accomplished the task, but the buzz in the room already made that evident. King Roderick was dazzled by this elite squad, and others nearby stretched their necks to get a better look at them, though the recruits had done little more than a few fast steps on a staircase. The mystery surrounding them was as magical as any true talent they possessed. The officers kept up the charade, staying close at their sides as if the recruits were national treasures, behaving more like their assigned attendants than their commanders. Bristol noticed Hollis had managed to maneuver over to Quin’s side, while Sashka was firmly pinned between Melizan and Cosette.
Cully fell into step beside Bristol. “Well done,” he whispered. “Remember—”
“I know. Eris drilled us.”
Cully smiled. “Sorry. He and Tyghan drilled the officers, too.”
They were to maintain the mystery, let the wordelitetake on a life of its own, and not reveal any specific role they played in Danu to the hundreds of inquisitive nobles now gawking at them. That was Tyghan and Eris’s job, to drop judicious details and discreetly explore possible strategies with monarchs, procure initial troop commitments while giving them vague but visible hope that Danu had a plan—which included this unusually skilled squad. It couldn’t become common knowledge or even a certainty—only idle, drunken banter at Beltane Eve—because other Elphame rulers could be suspect, too. Even though they now shared a common enemy, they were not one big happy world. Seven kingdoms, no matter how reluctantly, had already agreed to Kormick’s demands regarding the Choosing Ceremony, buying his lies in exchange for momentary peace.Fear has a way of making lies seem virtuous, Eris told them at his last briefing.We need to win them back.The sprite king had been the first to concede to Fomoria, and with his loose tongue, he was on the list of the few they were to explicitly avoid, even though every precaution had been taken, including a full array of amulets sewn into their dresses. Under protest, Reuben had grudgingly produced them on Madame Chastain’s order. Bristol hadn’t hidden her gloating grin as he handed them over. She was glad he was left behind at the palace. He had sniffed at that, too.
After a few encounters with probing gentry, where the recruits handled themselves admirably, the officers finally loosened their leashes and stepped away to get refreshments of their own. Sashka sidled close, happy to be rid of the iron watch of Melizan, and whispered, “We kicked ass, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” Julia agreed, “and then some.”
And then some.Julia was not prone to hyperbole, but maybe she knew tonight was one night to indulge in a little bit of cockiness. Sashka and Rose glowed with their success, while Avery went off to delight in the wonders of the Timbercrest banquet tables. That left Hollis free to monopolize Quin’s attentions—and he didn’t seem to mind. It was a true celebration, their smiles all real, and they danced, they reveled, and Bristol waited for Tyghan to free himself from his duties so she could dance with him, too—until she spotted someone on the far side of the room—someone she’d never expected to see in Elphame.
Someone from Bowskeep.
CHAPTER 83
The Timbercrest gardens were sweet with the scent of honeysuckle. Bristol and Princess Georgina strolled along a winding path, will-o’-the-wisps twinkling between ferns and trees. It was entrancing, but positively the last place Bristol had ever expected to walk with Mayor Georgie Topz.
Bristol had spotted her mingling with four other princesses in the royal party from Gildawey. Georgie’s long crimson curls had thrown Bristol off, but the way she tapped her hand on her thigh like she was listening to her own unique music caught her attention, the ever-abiding Topz energy that had a beat of its own.
When Bristol approached her, the princess suggested a walk, eager to escape her royal duties. Once outside, she shed her glamoured hair, too. It was her mother’s idea—the queen disapproved of her blunt blond cut. “Unbecoming of a Gildawey princess,” she said, imitating her mother’s queenly air, but the roll of her eyes was pure Mayor Topz. “And how is Elphame treating you?” she asked.
“It’s been rocky, but things are going better now,” Bristol answered. “I worry about my sisters, though. Have you seen them?”
“Yes,” she reported cheerfully. “Quite a bit, actually. They’re doing well. Harper’s always lugging armfuls of books in or out of the library—she’s on a research binge, it seems—and Cat’s been in town several times driving her new little car. Looks like they came into some money? I’m guessing that’s because of you.”
“My father, actually. Sonja was able to sell his painting for a lot more money than we ever dreamed.”
