Exchanged Read online

  “Perhaps our dear Lord Thray is still fatigued from dealing with the frost giants,” Oberon ventured, directing his words to Titania but fully turning to Callannon, looking for affirmation. Callannon slowly returned a small nod. “Well then, take the rest of the week off from court. You’ve certainly earned it.”

  “Agreed,” Titania admitted. “You’ve done us all a great service by diffusing the frost giant rebellion, and I realize it was difficult. Though I expect you to be back to your normal attentive self when you return. Understood?”

  Callannon gave Titania a small bow. “Thank you for your generosity, my queen.”

  “Think nothing of it. Good day to you, Lord Thray.” She nodded to him and left, not dignifying Oberon with a goodbye.

  Oberon went to Callannon’s side and clapped his hand on Callannon’s shoulder. “That should give you some time to adjust to life with your exchanged. There can’t be much for her in the Forgotten Mists if you met her in our realm. Bring her here to live with you. That way you can spend more time with her and less time dreaming about her.” Oberon smiled widely. “And that way I can meet her.”

  “Thank you, Oberon. I’ll consider it.” Callannon wondered if he could keep Aubriel safe if he brought her to the Summer Kingdom. If he couldn’t find the means to do so, it wouldn’t be worth the risk. Looking at Oberon’s sly smile, Callannon also realized he might need to keep Aubriel away from Oberon, considering his best friend’s reputation with the beautiful women of the court.

  ~*~

  Callannon tried to contain his smile as Eder arrived at Sagma House. Two sleek griffins pulled Eder’s cart up the path to the entry steps. The tips of their wings brushed the shrubs flanking the path between the front gardens, leaving feathers behind, but Callannon enjoyed the beasts. Of course Eder would find some interesting creatures to pull his cart of rare goods. The griffins pulled the cart past the last of the shrubs and stopped in front of the steps to the manor. The cart door swung open to reveal Eder, with his dark hair and amber complexion, who exited and walked up the manor steps.

  Glad to be home and away from the awkwardness of court, Callannon was happy to see Eder. The merchant did business with all the members of the court, but he was the only one Callannon trusted to keep their dealings discrete. That, and meeting with Eder meant Callannon was one step closer to seeing Aubriel again.

  Eder bowed as he reached the top of the steps, the hem of his robes brushing the stone floor of the entryway. Eder wore the same robes every time he visited, and Callannon remembered asking about them the first time the two of them met. Robes from the Forgotten Mists. Eder’s probably the only fey in all the Summer Kingdom that’s actually been there. I’ll have to be careful around him if Aubriel ever comes here.

  Callannon bowed and put on his best courtly smile. “Eder, I’m glad to see you. How were your travels? Have you found anything of note?”

  “You know how my trade works, Lord Thray.” Eder smiled. “Everything I find is of note to someone, and most of all to me.” Eder let the pause hang in the air a moment.

  Eder provided most of Callannon’s rarer spell components, but the merchant visited infrequently and wasn’t able to deliver every component with each visit. Callannon shifted his weight. He would gladly visit Aubriel every night, but his supplies were dwindling. As it was, he was already out of his rarest component. If Eder didn’t have it, Callannon wouldn’t be able to see Aubriel that night. A distinct and heavy knot settled in his stomach. “Were you able to fulfill my request?”

  Eder’s smile turned teasing as he motioned to the cart. “It wasn’t easy to come across, my lord, but I have some iron for you. You’ve taken so much interest in it recently that I suspect you’re happier to see it than you are to see me.”

  “So, you have it then?”

  Eder opened the rear door of the cart, revealing a large, sturdy chest with a heavy lock. After fitting it with a key, he pushed the deceptively plain lid open. Inside were cases full of glass vials with cork stoppers, each containing rare materials, from herbs to crushed gems.

  “I have a number of things for you today,” Eder said. “Why you want iron I can’t imagine—at least not in these quantities. I thought you turned down the offer to join the Sorcerers’ Enclave.”

  Callannon laughed, mostly to hide his nervousness. Iron was one of the few metals that could harm or hinder fey. This rendered it very difficult to get a hold of. Eder was one of the few merchants who knew where to procure it and likely knew many of its uses, but Callannon couldn’t expose its true purpose. He trusted Eder, but didn’t want information about Aubriel to get out. Even if the merchant could be counted as a friend, business trumped friendship with most fey, and Callannon didn’t want to test their relationship.

  “Isn’t the magic you were born with enough?” Eder asked with a faint smile. “I suppose I shouldn’t care or complain. You contribute to my livelihood.”

  “I appreciate your simplicity and forthrightness, Eder,” Callannon said, scanning the rows of vials for one containing iron. “That’s why I work with you.”

  “Were those compliments from Lord Thray? Now I’ve heard everything.”

  Callannon couldn’t suppress a light chuckle, but he steeled himself inwardly. It would be easy to open up to his long-time provider, but he couldn’t risk any danger to Aubriel. Dalliances with mortals were one thing, but an exchange with a mortal was quite another. If Eder found out that the iron was being used to meet a mortal exchanged, and if that information got into the wrong hands, Callannon was sure someone would try to compromise his position as advisor to the king. He wouldn’t be safe. Aubriel wouldn’t be safe. No one could know she was mortal.

  A look about the courtyard told Callannon his staff were nowhere nearby. It seemed counterintuitive that he should obtain rare and secretive components in the middle of the golden day where any servants or unexpected guests might see the trade, but by doing business this way, Callannon showed he had nothing to hide, thereby making his actions less suspicious and interesting to any onlooking fey. It was common knowledge that he had been offered a position at the Sorcerers’ Enclave. It was a small logical leap to assume that he still practiced magic at his leisure. And to practice magic, one needed certain components.

  Eder plucked vials from his stock and placed them into a leather pouch, drawing Callannon’s attention back to the cart. Gold dust, various furs, inks. All were useful, but none were what he wanted. Finally, Eder pulled a vial half full of glinting, gray iron filings. It would be just enough.

  Callannon pulled a purse full of coin from a pocket of his court cloak and exchanged it for the one containing his vials.

  “Thank you, Lord Thray.” Eder gave a short bow. “I still must count it before I go. No offense to you, of course.”

  “I expect no less.”

  After securing his payment, the merchant paused before turning back to his cart. “I do hope I’ll be invited in for tea one day, Lord Thray. I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Sagma House.”

  Callannon shook his head as Eder got in his cart and left. You and many others, but I think not. He watched as the griffins obediently hauled the large cart from the courtyard and headed out past the gardens. Callannon waited until he could no longer see Eder’s cart then headed inside, his fingers itching to hold the precious iron.

  In the middle of the foyer, with its high windows illuminating the main stairwell, stood a small female brownie, barely three feet tall and with wide amber eyes. She curtsied at his approach. “Lord Thray, did your business go well today?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Delia, it did.” He walked with his housekeeper to the main stairwell and began ascending the stairs as he spoke. “I’ll be heading into my study for quite a while. Please don’t disturb me unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “Of course, my lord. Best of luck in your studies.”

  Without pause, Callannon opened the thick ironwood door with a brief incantation and a wave of his hand before c
losing it behind him. His study was filled with the same afternoon light as the foyer, the windows at the far side of the room overlooking the courtyard and the gardens. A desk rested before the windows, large and solid, made of the same ironwood as his door and littered with sheaves of parchment. Books lined one of the walls, but Callannon ignored the treasured tomes and walked to a cabinet, unlocking it to retrieve a case.

  He set the case down on the desk—whispering a different incantation to unlock the lid—and opened it to reveal bottled spell components on small racks. A particular few bits of metal, powder, and plant were what enabled him to form the dreamscape and draw Aubriel into it. He couldn’t bring anyone he wished into the dreamscape, but the bond he formed with Aubriel when he found her in the hidden cave proved a special one. Without the bond, he would be forced to scry in order to find her again, and even that would have been difficult, as he had nothing of hers to focus his spell with.

  Until now, that is. Callannon smiled fondly. As he felt the unfinished wood of the amulet through his silk doublet, he pictured Aubriel as she had handed it to him. Her features vaguely revealed the fey ancestry all elves claimed, but there was an exotic quality about her. Slight tweaks, like her short, small pointed ears and less angular face, made her even more appealing. But despite her resemblances to fey, she wouldn’t be able to pass for one in the Summer Court. The tone of her skin would contrast too sharply with the light-catching quality of the fey nobles’ complexions, and Aubriel’s lack of height would differentiate her in any setting.

  Some of the differences could be explained away by claiming them to be normal in the Forgotten Mists, but the fey of the Summer Court had enough experience with mortals to know one when they saw one. Mortals weren’t common in the Summer Court, but when they were seen, it was as servants to some fey master, such as the human messenger in court that morning. If Aubriel ever came here, Callannon would have to construct a powerful illusion to hide her appearance.

  He returned his focus to his new components. Before he worried about illusions, he wanted to see Aubriel again. He imagined he could still feel her lips against his and wanted nothing more than to continue where they left off.

  Callannon looked out the windows to ensure that no unexpected carriages or guests graced his manor. Seeing nothing and no one, he turned back to his desk and closed his eyes, imagining his grounds. His mind traced the perimeter of the gardens and each entry point, checking to make sure that the protection spells that acted as invisible trip-wires had not been set off. Finding each of them intact, Callannon dismissed his mental image of the estate and opened the pouch full of vials after pulling it from his pocket.

  Callannon placed each vial in the case. His eyes darted over the sheets of parchment—histories and research about elves, instances of fey visiting the mortal realm, and the two stories he could find of relationships between fey and mortals that didn’t end in tragedy. None of those fey were nearly as tenacious as he by his estimation, and none of them had a bond with their partner like he did with Aubriel. He removed the components he needed to construct the dreamscape, lying each on the table next to the stories.

  Despite his fear of bringing Aubriel to the Summer Kingdom, he couldn’t help but begin investigating just how to do so. Callannon knew gateways existed that opened during certain times and in certain places where the fey realm and the mortal one were closely aligned. These gateways allowed anyone to pass through them, though they were usually only open for a short time. He permanently closed the gateway that led from Sagma House to where he once hid the necklace to avoid the risk of it being discovered by anyone else.

  What intrigued Callannon about gateways wasn’t that they existed, but that they could be created. It had been his assumption that they were naturally occurring. If he was to have another chance to cross between the realms and meet with Aubriel physically, he would need to do further research.

  Callannon held the vial of iron up so he could better inspect it. Iron had the potential to cripple even the most powerful of fey if used correctly, and if used by a fey incorrectly, the results could be even more dire. It was a material native to the mortal realm, and it was the final component he needed to visit Aubriel. Few fey travelled to the mortal realm that he was aware of. Between the difficulty of returning through the gateways and iron residing there, Callannon didn’t think that most fey wished to go there at all. Many mortals accidentally wandered through gateways to the fey realm, unable to find their way back and were captured as slaves if they were unlucky enough to step foot into most kingdoms.

  If Callannon were caught with iron, other fey would likely jump to the conclusion that he was attempting to remove one of the court nobles, or even worse, the king or queen. He was careful not to make enemies, but he suspected there were many fey more than willing to see him stripped of his title and rank. He knew of at least one with certainty.

  “Greetings, Lord Thray.”

  Callannon shoved the iron into his pocket and spun. A woman stood in the doorway to his study, her arms crossed over her elegant gold and silver armor. Ruby hair fell to her chin, highlighting the sharp angles of her face. Her height wasn’t as impressive as his, but she nearly exceeded how broad he was.

  “Captain Salda. You continue to refuse announcement by my staff, I see.”

  “You and your staff are well aware that I’m Captain of the King’s Guard. I am able to go where I please without preamble.”

  May as well be the Queen’s Guard for how deep in Titania’s pocket you are, Salda.

  She began looking about the room, searching while she feigned nonchalance. Callannon quietly but quickly closed his component case and obscured his research, walking around to the front of his desk and crossing his arms to mirror Salda. Mrs. Delia appeared in the doorway behind the captain with an anxious look, mouthing an apology. He sighed. “Is there something you wish to speak to me about?”

  Salda took the question as an invitation to enter and promenaded about the room, scouring his study with her eyes. “Queen Titania informed me that you were experiencing stress during court today. She wanted me to check up on you and see how you’re doing.”

  The queen isn’t likely to have thought of my well being. She has the latter half of the day to spar with Oberon for power without me there to defend him.

  “How thoughtful of her,” Callannon said slowly. “It is true that I had some difficulty focusing. It seems that I’m still recovering from my dealings with the frost giants, but I am taking the king and queen’s advice and resting so that I may return to my normal self.”

  “Resting in the study?” Salda asked, turning to fix her dark, cerulean eyes on him.

  That gaze may be able to pierce other men, Salda, but not me. “Your interest in my health is truly remarkable, Captain, but I assure you that I can take care of myself.”

  She bristled, and he couldn’t help but smirk internally. He shouldn’t have stooped to her level, but he found it difficult to control his ire around her. In truth, his dealings with Captain Salda reminded him of Oberon and Titania’s relationship, with one notable exception: Callannon and Salda had never loved each other.

  Salda leaned to look past him. “What have you been occupying yourself with as you rest?”

  Callannon refrained from moving to obscure his research. “Some business. This is my study, after all.” He attempted to keep his tone even, but his efforts were fruitless. A moment of hesitation to collect his thoughts was all that Salda needed to peer over his desk and examine the papers. He drew himself to his full height and gave her a glare of warning. She might use her status to get away with looking, but if she disturbed his papers he would personally toss her out of the manor himself.

  “Interesting,” she mused.

  She doesn’t know, Callannon told himself. She’s doing this in hopes that you give yourself away. Show her nothing. Easier said than done. If he allowed himself to show his anger at her trespassing, she’d become eager and more of a pest. This he k
new from experience. He wouldn’t allow her to know more about his exchanged than he did. Not again.

  “As much as it would please me to let you do my work for me, Captain Salda, I don’t think King Oberon would feel the same.”

  Salda straightened, frowning down at the desk. “I suppose I should be returning. The hour is getting late.” Callannon bit his tongue to keep from showing his relief. Salda turned toward the door but paused and glanced back at the desk a moment, tilting her head. Her gaze met his. “Why are you reading a book on mortals?”

  Callannon cursed inwardly, but did all he could to keep his expression neutral. “The book is from my personal collection. I don’t believe I need a reason to use it.”

  “You’re a bit odd, Lord Thray,” Salda said with a gleam in her eyes. “Either your idea of relaxing is misplaced, or you haven’t been as busy as you’ve claimed.” She tapped her chin with a finger. “Or perhaps you’ve been making time for other...interests?”

  That’s it. Member of the King’s Guard or not, I cannot suffer her a moment longer!

  “Lord Thray,” a small voice said from behind Captain Salda.

  Salda shifted, revealing Mrs. Delia in the doorway. “Would you like me to bring tea for you and your guest?”

  Bless her good timing. “No thank you, Mrs. Delia,” Callannon said, turning to meet Salda’s gaze. “My guest was just leaving. King Oberon and Queen Titania all but ordered me to rest, so I should see to that.”

  Salda gave him a smile that was too self-satisfied for his liking. “Of course. I do look forward to discussing your new interest next we meet, Lord Thray.” She gave a short bow to which Callannon didn’t bother responding and left the study, Mrs. Delia in her wake.

  Callannon closed the study door behind them and let out a quiet sigh. Salda was always so difficult to drive away, and if she’d glimpsed the iron, she would never have left. Returning to his desk, he sorted his books and papers, organizing them and more thoroughly hiding the compromising documents. With a satisfied nod, he sat back in his chair, his mind returning to Aubriel and seeing her that evening. It wouldn’t be necessary to imagine how holding her felt after tonight. His hand slipped back into his pocket to retrieve the iron.