Trickster Noir (Pixie for Hire Book 2) Read online

  Trickster Noir

  Cedar Sanderson

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this work are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2014 by Stonycroft Publishing

  http://stonycroftpublishing.com

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Cover Design and Art by Cedar Sanderson

  Editing by Amanda S. Green

  Dedicated to Sarah Hoyt and Dave Freer, my writing mentors, without whose encouragement I would never have made it this far.

  Miserable Wretch

  There would be no happily-ever-after to my fairy tale. I was dying, to begin this story. Not in the long-drawn out way that everyone is, dying by days. My death was staring me dead in the eyes. Body damaged beyond imagining, magic gone, I was on the way out. My biggest regret was that I had never slept with Bella. Not in the way you are thinking, although I’d dreamed about that often enough. No, simply in the warmth of her arms with the peace of the night wrapped around us. I wondered if I would be aware in the afterlife, eternally regretting this failure.

  My destruction had begun with the imprisonment at Tower Baelfire, the abuse I’d taken there, but in the end it was the one thing I hadn’t even been conscious to enjoy... Bella using my magic to fend off the Wild Hunt with a taste of their own medicine. The elfshot that had poisoned me for so many years, hurled back at them with the full power of the woman I loved behind it. Alger had told me the story and I was sorry I hadn’t been awake to see it. In my last moments of lucidity, I’d thought at the time I had done it, I’d asked Bella to marry me. Purely selfish, I assure you. I also thought at the time I was going to be dead before she would have to go through with it.

  I also regretted the burden I was about to drop on Devon’s slim shoulders. He was a good lad, but still a lad, and nowhere near ready to be Duke. Being my nephew and the last scion of the House Mulvaney was bad enough without my adding to it. Maybe I ought to have just died quietly in her arms, rather than letting my dreams out of the box at this late date. I didn’t want the Dukedom, I wanted her. My fairy princess who had brought me back to life in more way than one.

  After the proposal, and my inevitable collapse, people came in and out of the room, but I don’t remember who was there. Bella kept crying but not letting anyone see her. She thought I was out of it, and mostly I was, sometimes I was just too tired to look awake. It had been some time since I’d proposed, I wasn’t sure how long. I wasn’t staying awake long enough to know if it had been days, hours, or only minutes since I last opened my eyes.

  My magic was gone. She’d stripped the elfshot, and with it had gone the magic. I tried for Sight, and got only the gray sparkles that happen if you squeeze your eyes shut for too long. So when Mark came and sat by my bed at some point, I was unable to confirm if he had magic, or I’d been mistaken back in Alaska. I did remember that I’d been told how he and some of Bella’s family had helped come to my rescue, following her into unknown and definitely hostile territory.

  “You didn’t go home?” I asked, startling him. He had been nodding off and obviously not expecting the dead man to talk to him.

  “Er,” he rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Alger offered to teach me how to use magic. Seems I have some.”

  So my crazy great-uncle, the arch-magician, was at it again. Thanks to his meddling, I’d been targeted by the Wild Hunt as a boy. But he had balanced it with a gift to Bella, giving her the collected wisdom of the largest library ever, and she had access to all of it with her mind. Now, it seemed, Alger had collected Mark. Which didn’t answer my internal question. I externalized it.

  “So why are you sitting here?” I was genuinely curious. I’d barely met him, sitting watch over me was hardly his debt to pay.

  “Bella needed to sleep. Alger’s sitting with her to make sure she does. Ellie’s worn to the bone, and you mother was summoned to Court.” His explanation was punctuated by a venture to the small table where a coffee urn stood. The smell wafting from his cup when he came back made my stomach growl, which startled both of us. I didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. I had vague memories involving a spoon, and something either warm or cool.

  “Would you like some? Or can you have it?” He looked uncertainly down at me. Flat on my back, I couldn’t drink it.

  “Hell if I know.” I admitted. I tried to sit up, the blankets an unendurable obstacle to that idea. He gently slipped an arm under my shoulders and I decided to let him. Once I was sitting, we found, I could stay up, wavering like a leaf in the wind. He grabbed cushions off the little couch and got me propped.

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hold the cup, but that I could manage. I sipped slowly. It tasted wonderful with lots of cream and a little sugar.

  “Ichor of the gods.” I quipped with my old joke. He grinned suddenly, a flash of white teeth in dark brown beard.

  “Longest I’ve seen you awake in a while.” Mark was right, I realized. I didn’t feel like I was going to fade out and fall over, either.

  “I needed coffee.” I reached up a hand to my own chin, letting the cup nestle in the coverlet folds to keep it secure. I was almost as bearded as he was. “By the Hunt! How long has it been?”

  “Bella’s the only one you will let near you, mostly. She was worried about trying to shave you with Alger’s razor - I think cutthroat was the word she used - so it’s been about six weeks. And man, it ain’t becoming.”

  “I don’t have face foliage like you do, no matter how long it’s been,” I shot back at him. My beard was straggly, so I was used to keeping my face smooth. I fingered the hair again. “You know where that razor went?”

  A look crossed his face. “You kill yourself with that blade, Bella will kill me.”

  I snorted and leaned back against the pillow. “I have safety razors. Alger obviously didn’t look in the cupboard.”

  I told him where he’d find them, and as he walked across the room, closed my eyes to rest the eyelids. They were heavy after so long not being awake, it turned out. I woke up again to daylight, and no Mark. But... I managed to touch my chin. I was lying flat again, but my arms were above the coverlet so I could move. I was smooth shaven. Good man.

  “You’re awake.” And that was mother’s voice, sounding rather pleased. I turned my head.

  “How long?” I croaked. She fluttered a bit, finally coming up with a glass of water and a straw. I sipped gratefully.

  “Since?” She was trying to deflect, not a good sign.

  I sighed. “Since I talked to Mark?”

  She relaxed. “That was yesterday. Or last night, rather.”

  “Bella?”

  “She’ll be up shortly, she’s having lunch with Ellie in the kitchen. I took over for an hour, firm. Poor girl needs to rest, too.” Mother sounded unusually grounded. She had spent most of my adult life cultivating all the mental depth of a sparrow, with an avid appetite for gossip and the social skills any honeybee would envy. Under it, I knew, was a keen mind for the byzantine politics of High Court. My reclaiming the dukedom had injected new energy into one member of my family, at least.

  “She does. And doesn’t need to be tied to my wrecked old hulk,” I knew I sounded bitter.

  She blinked in surprise. I suppose I also sounded morose. I growled a little under my breath. I just wanted to die in peace. Was that too much to ask?

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Do I get to sit up if I am?”

  She sighed. “
Let me go get Mark.”

  She was almost out the door before I could respond, calling after her, “He’s not my valet!” I finished in my head, having run out of breath, I don’t have a valet, I don’t need a valet, I’m not some old doddering fool or a Court dandy.

  I lay there, panting slightly from that exertion. I could hear murmurs in the hall, but not what was being said. I wondered if Alger would give me grace. This was impossible. I would not be a burden for what remained of my worthless life. I rolled over, feeling like even that was a monumental accomplishment, and a wave of weakness washed over me. I wasn’t going to be able to stand up, much less make it to the bathroom. I didn’t want to think about those provisions for the weeks previous.

  The coverlet was the next obstacle. I’d never realized before just how heavy the damn thing was. No-one was walking through the door just yet. In that moment of aloneness I realized just how oppressive it had been to never be alone, even if I had been unconscious. I wanted my armory, that ultimate man-cave, warded with spells that no-one dared tamper with to invade my space.

  The legs over the edge of the bed was a bad idea. They were heavy as lead, and about as easy to move.

  Actually, once they had momentum, they worked just fine as anchors, pulling me downward. I slid out of the bed and landed on the floor with a jarring thud.

  That worked. Time to start crawling, probably better than trying to walk just now. The nightshirt was tangled around my legs and not helping. I honestly wasn’t sure if I was looking for a weapon to kill myself with, or just get to the bathroom. Footsteps sounded, coming through the door.

  I looked up at Bella. She crouched down next to me. “Where are you going?” She had a funny look on her face.

  “Bathroom,” I gasped out. She nodded. Mark appeared on my other side, and together they got me to my feet. I refuse to admit that I whimpered when I took that first step.

  “Bella!” My mother, sounding both scandalized and afraid.

  “Lucia, he needs to move. If he stays in bed he’s going to die. Or waste away to nothing. If he’s out of bed, he’s ready to walk.”

  Mother Titania, I loved this woman. Dying was worth having the right to call her mine. They got me in the bathroom, and I promised I would rap on the door when done. That business over with, I didn’t want to go back to bed. Mark half-carried me to the little couch, while mother and Bella had a low-voiced but very tense discussion over my husk. I was beginning to feel like laughing at all the attention and angst in the air, when Ellie appeared with a tray of sandwiches, and my stomach made a rude noise again. She looked pleased to see me sitting up, at least. For once I didn’t mind all the people in my room. As long as I was awake and alive to see them.

  Food was both delicious, and exhausting. People were less and less welcome as I tired again. But I had been up for a whole hour, easily the most since... Well, I don’t want to think about that.

  “Bella...” I was now surrounded by what seemed like most of my family. I wasn’t sure she could hear me over the talking, and I didn’t have the strength to project. She stood up.

  “Everyone out. Yes, he’s better. But mostly he needs rest.”

  She’d read my mind. I leaned back, watching as she efficiently herded them out, gentle and inexorable.

  “I’m not ready to get back in the bed.” I told her after the door closed behind the last of them.

  “Okay. When you fall asleep I’ll go get Mark to help me get you into bed.”

  “I have questions,” I started. She came to sit next to me, easy in her soft blue dress. I wondered about her jeans, and then realized that they wouldn’t be available Underhill. She had been making her own dresses with magic, but had confided in me that trying to make jeans resulted in canvas pants. I wasn’t sure what the difference was, but wasn’t about to argue with her. It wasn’t like she could just jaunt above to go on a shopping trip, either. If - when - I died, what would become of her? Bringing my wandering mind back to my point, “No one is using magic around me. On purpose, or...?”

  She nodded. “When the smallest spell is activated in your room, you... twitch. It was decided,” which most likely meant she had put her foot down, hard, “that we would not use it around you. I wanted to take you home, honestly, but they wouldn’t allow it, and I wasn’t sure what to tell a doctor was wrong with you.”

  Massive internal bleeding, broken bones, and complications from a mind rape. I felt my face flinch. She put a hand on my cheek. “I was sure I was going to lose you.”

  “You still might. Bella, I...” I swallowed hard. “I don’t think I’m going to make it. I’ve been ill before, with the elfshot. This is, different. I can’t even access the Sight. There’s nothing.”

  She shook her head, smiling a little. “You had me worried up until last night. Wanting to shave was a sure sign that you were coming back from the edge.”

  “I lost my magic. I’m moody as hell, and I have a serious case of the blues.”

  She shrugged. “There’s a whole world of people without it up above. You’re alive, and you have been doing very little with magic for a long time, I talked to Alger about it.”

  I sighed. I couldn’t explain what I was thinking, that if I had to be helpless, dependent on others for everything, I didn’t want to be alive.

  “Will you sleep with me tonight?” Now I did succeed in startling her.

  “I don’t know...” she began dubiously, and I could tell she was trying to figure out how to say this.

  “Just sleep.”

  “I’ve been sleeping here,” she patted the couch cushions. “But yes, I would like that.”

  She put her head on my shoulder, not resting any weight on me, and I realized I was all skin and bones. No wonder I was having trouble moving, my muscles were shot. If I wasn’t going to die, that was going to have to change.

  I fell asleep like that, her warm against my side. I woke up to her curled up under the covers with me. Someone, likely Mark and Bella, had tucked me into bed. It was what I had wanted, but I lay there staring at the ceiling, worrying. What if something did happen to me, despite her assurance that I would be recovering now? I needed to talk to Alger, who seemed to be avoiding me. He had been part of the hubbub earlier, but hadn’t talked to me, and I hadn’t noticed until later.

  Bella rolled over. “Hey.”

  Her eyes were only half-open and her hair tangled over her face. She pushed it back, and I could see her face pale in the half-light of the room. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I’m not used to sleeping with someone. And I have been a bit worried about you. I was...” she paused, and in the dark I couldn’t see her expression, but I could hear the tears when she went on “You got really still.”

  “I’m still here.” And she was warm, and with me, and my heart skipped a beat. I really didn’t want to die. Not yet.

  “I almost didn’t sleep with you tonight. I was afraid I’d hurt you.”

  I huffed a short laugh. “Roll over on me and smother me? you’re not that big, Bella.”

  She sniffed. “All right, it wasn’t rational. But this wasn’t how I wanted our first night to go.”

  “Me, neither.” I reached out and took her hand. I wanted to hold her, but she was right, it would hurt.

  Bella’s Turn

  Bella woke with a start. There was another person in bed with her... she was in a bed, first time in weeks. Lom! She rolled over carefully. He was breathing softly, still alive. She relaxed and watched him sleep. It was full daylight, and although the curtains were drawn, she had enough light to really study him.

  His face was thin and pale. While he was asleep, she couldn’t see the pain lines around his eyes, but the deep crushed-violet circles under them were not reassuring. She didn’t know what had happened under Baelfire Tower, not all of it anyway. His injuries from the physical side were healed, thanks to Melcar being on the spot to take care of the immediate trauma, and the time since, but she was very afraid that her usin
g the poison of the elfshot had been what was keeping him from fully healing.

  She slipped out of bed without waking him and went to the room across the hall. When it had become obvious that he wasn’t recovering anytime soon, Ellie had asked if she would like this room. It was closed, dusty, and very empty, had been for a long time. Bella was acutely aware that there was history in this house she knew nothing about. Ellie, who had hired or just called in a favor, Bella wasn’t sure which, had brought in a crew of her wood elves to help around the house. Alger, Lucia, Devon, and Mark were all staying here, in rooms that stretched improbably off the end of a hall she was certain had not been there before. Fairyland was strange, and it hurt her brain if she thought too hard about it.

  She had a bed, and clothes in the wardrobe, but not much else, and it didn’t feel like home. Bella looked around the room. The brocade wallpaper was gaudy and hideous. Dressing took only a moment, and pulling a brush through her hair to re-braid it not much longer. She kept thinking she was going to cut it short, but there was no time. Ready for the daytime, she slipped back into Lom’s room.

  He was still sleeping soundly, she saw. This seemed to be a natural sleep, though, not the coma he had been slipping in and out of for so long. Bella bent over him and could see the movement of eyes beneath his closed eyelids. He dreamed. This was a good thing. She resisted the urge to kiss him, lest she wake him up, and retreated to the couch, where there was less temptation, and a book on the table.

  Carrying a library in her head was, she had decided months ago, a wonderful thing. But paper was still nice, too. She had this, Thaumaturgy for Wylde Beastes, in her head, but it helped her organize her thoughts to look at it in paper. For one thing, what she was thinking of as the search engine in her brain, was not terribly controlled and from time to time she would be overwhelmed in answers when asking a simple question. Besides, the old books smelled good.