The Earl's Childe (11 page)

Ermie stopped circling as my sister and I looked at each other in silence for a few minutes. He took a few cautious steps towards me, probably trying to figure out the whole mess of emotions that was surging in my head now. I turned to look him in the eye and held out my hand. He lowered his head and nudged my knuckles until I gently rubbed his nose.

Turning away from Ehrwnmyr, I faced my sister. “I suppose we should go in, then. Mum'll be home soon, and she'll have Coach David and Coach Krissy with her.”

Lily just nodded. She looked pale and a little sick, and I understood why. There was still a big part of me that felt that way, thinking about my dad. Only, I also had Mum…and I didn't need a dad who kept me safe
from
her. If Lily's only
good
parent—birth parent, anyway—was losing it, where did that leave her?

As I stepped away, Ermie nickered once.
One thing more…?

I glanced between him and my sister and hesitated. Lily slowly turned and started walking towards the house.

“What?” I whispered to the kelpie.

You never told me where to go
. “What?” I blinked at him, confused.

You asked to ride
. Only
to ride. I could have taken you to another place in the world, a place in Faerie where time passed differently, and brought you home after your family had long died. You would be safe, as you requested, and I would have been within my bounds of absolute obedience
.

A chill started at the top of my head and shivered all the way down my spine.

Your kindness to me has not gone unnoticed, so I returned it. But you
must
be more careful. Seelie or Unseelie, no fey truly has
your
best interests at heart. Do you understand me?

I nodded slowly, then bit my lip. “No faerie…not even you.”

Ermie tossed his head and circled tightly.
I returned your kindness in kind
.

I nodded again, then ducked between the slats of the paddock. I jogged a few steps to Lily and took her arm in my uninjured one. As we approached the castle, a few more swallows of sour bile burned my throat and tongue.

Neither Lily nor I was looking forward to whatever mess we faced with our parents.

CHAPTER

5

Where I learn that family politics might just be even more complicated, and scary, than Faery politics
.

Dad was the actor. Literally, like award-winning actor. Mum was a writer, but she was reasonably good at acting in a pinch. When she got out of Ginny's car and caught Lily's eyes and mine, however, we could see her pleasant smile—the show she was putting on for the two instructors—starting to crack.

Lily, who had her own dreams of being a famous actress, picked up the happy hostess role without missing a beat.

“Coach Krissy! It's so good to see you again!” She threw her arms around the petite woman with a black braid almost as long as my own. “I was so happy my mom could reschedule my visit, and that I could come back home for camp this year.”

“I'm glad to see you, too, Lily.” She hugged my sister back.

Once Coach Krissy released Lily, my sister gushed in Coach David's direction. “And it's so awesome to meet you, Coach David!” My sister had a smile that could outshine the lighthouse a few miles down the coastal trail.

“Can I take your bags?” I offered, mirroring Lily's smile.

“My goodness, Heather. You're
far
taller than me now!” Coach Krissy pulled me into a hug, too. I smirked in amusement, as I had to bend to hug her back. Nearly the whole camp was taller than she was, but now she really had to reach up to throw her arms around me.

Beside me, Lily had slipped more into an American accent while talking with Coach David, who, Mum had told us (on many, many occasions), “had coached the United States Equestrian Teams to Olympic medals in every discipline.”

Trying not to look too relieved, Mum excused herself, while Lily and I showed the two coaches to their rooms on the floor above ours. Lily was quick to point out that, in fact, the royal family had slept in
those very rooms
not a few weeks earlier, when they had visited to donate relief funds to the nearby villages decimated by that crazy storm.

We were heading down the stairs when Lily's phone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, and I tried not to scowl, thinking of my phone, locked in Dad's drawer.

“Mum wants you in the office, please, she says.” Lily gave me a concerned look.

I sighed, shoving my hands into my pockets and continuing down one more flight of stairs.

“Good luck,” she said to me, peeking down the stairwell.

“Thanks.”

Having seen my dad in this manic mess, ready to hurt Tom, accidentally hurting me…knowing he might, really, want to
kill
Ehrwnmyr…I thought I had a pretty good idea of how scary a parent could be. (In the realm of good, loving parents, that is—my two older sisters have had other experiences.)

I was wrong, though. About how scary a normally loving parent could look.

Upon walking into my parents' office, I faced the immediate reality that I
never in my life
had seen my mother when she was properly furious.

So furious, in fact, I almost felt guilty to be relieved that I was not on the receiving end of said fury. My dad, who
was
on the receiving end, sat hunched and slouched in his desk chair, as if he wanted to disappear. Puffy red rimmed his eyes, and he seemed to avoid looking at me, too. Thinking back to the day I bridled the kelpie, I knew that feeling well.
Really
well.

Everyone said I had my mum's eyes; I wondered if mine had turned that shade of livid green earlier.

“I said ‘come in,' Heather.” Her voice was soft and even, which was even more chilling than if it actually had been clipped and angry.

I hadn't realized how long I'd been standing in the doorway. “Yes, ma'am.” I nodded and all but tiptoed to the overstuffed couch nestled between and under the wall made of bookshelves. I normally avoided sitting in it, due to a traumatic walking-in-at-a-bad-time event, but I'd mostly overcome that since being forced to sit in it for more punishments in the past few weeks than ever before In My Whole Life.

“First. From here on out, there will be one rule in this house that is
non-negotiable
under
any
circumstances. And that rule is, no one, and I mean
no one
, in this house is to ever, ever,
ever
touch another one of my books
—any
of my books— without speaking to me first. Is that clear?”

Both my dad and I nodded.

“Say it.”

Dad and I mumbled some form of “No one touches your books ever.”

“Good. Second part of that same One Rule. No one, under any circumstances, will attempt
any
spell or
a-ny-thing
related to magick without consulting me first. Is
that
clear?”

Dad and I repeated, “No magick without you, ever.”

As she was speaking, Mum used the same very quiet, very calm, almost sweet tone that was far more unsettling than if she'd been screaming at the top of her lungs. She continued, “And just to make sure we're absolutely clear, consulting me means that you are one-hundred percent sure that I am paying full attention to you.” She shot a particularly sharp look at my dad. “Which means making me look away from the stove or computer or book to stare you in the eye. Right?”

“I understand,” he said.

Mum looked at me.

“Me too.” I nodded quickly.

Mum held our attention for a long moment in which neither of us seemed to want to breathe. Finally, she took a deep breath of her own and relaxed, leaning back in her chair. She didn't say anything right away; she just thought, tapping out a beat on her desk with her fingernails.

I cast a glance at Dad, whose jaw twitched just a little as his eyes fell on Mum's fingers. In a tiny jerk, she met his eyes, and he flinched, bowing his head and lowering his eyes. With a slight curl of her lower lip in the direction of Dad, she made a few more taps before turning to me.

When she faced me, her face softened. “Heather, where were you hurt? Your dad said it was your arm?”

I nodded.

“Let me see it.”

I held it up for her.

“No, come here and let me see.”

With a sigh, I purposely kept myself from rubbing it—I didn't think I could bear seeing my dad look more guilty—and stood, offering my arm. I couldn't keep myself from flinching when she touched it, even though she was gentle.

Her face softened even more as she leaned over to kiss just above the burn. Logically, I knew that kissing didn't
really
make injuries better—I'll be twelve in October, for goodness' sake— but it kind of did help. She let go and reached into one of her bottom drawers. Taking my other hand in hers, she squirted a few pumps of aloe into my palm. “This should soothe it some. I'll look up if there's anything more we can do later. All right?”

“Thanks, Mum.”

She nodded her head in the direction of the couch. “Now, tell me everything—starting with what prompted you to invite Tom into the house after your dad had made it clear he didn't want anything magickal inside the house.”

I drew my eyebrows together sharply, but kept from actually glaring at her.
What?!
She was siding with Dad after all this?

I searched her face, but she only folded her arms and raised her brows at me, gesturing with a lift of her chin that I should begin my story.

With a sigh, I slouched on the couch and started from the beginning, starting with the dream I had, where I heard Tom in my head trying to get my attention, all the way to admitting I broke grounding to hang out with Ehrwnmyr and repeating everything he told me…including how he purposely didn't take me away to Faerie or something because I was dumb and didn't think to be specific when I asked him for a ride.

“Well…” Mum dropped a semi-potent cuss out loud, making my eyes snap wide. Even as she said it, she held up one finger in the direction of my dad and continued, “And don't you dare chide me. We've got two assistant coaches and almost two dozen kids descending upon us before tomorrow's out, and the only defense we have is the killer fey horse, immune to fey magick, that has to obey our daughter. Our daughter, mind you, a trusting soul who, despite all the crap she's been through in school, still seems to think the best of just about everyone she meets.”

My dad sat up more in his chair, now leveling his eyes at Mum. “I
did
say it was a bad idea to still hold horse camp…”

“You also said that there wasn't any way I could re-un-invite the Countess of Perthshire's son without making us look bad in front of peerage, nobility…whatever.”

“It's better than…well…” My dad frowned, this time not flinching when Mum sent him another glare. Granted, this was more her normal-level glare, not the super-kill-you-with-my-fury glare from before.

“I can only think of one thing to do now.” Mum frowned, looking at Dad.

“What?” His voice let on that he knew it wasn't something he would like.

“You need to make amends with the fey cat. And you need to mean it.”

“What? No! I want him—I want
all of them
—away from this family. Don't you see that they're just going to keep putting us—our
children
—in the middle of harm?”

“So, what do you want to do? Stand up to them on our own?”

Dad clenched his teeth, but his pause was short. “Yes. Yes, that's exactly what I want us to do. I want us to stand up to them and tell them they have
no right
to entangle us in their schemes.”

Mum's face grew grave. “I don't think you understand—”

“They're bullies, Aimee! Don't you see? They will
keep
using us and putting us—putting
Heather
—into danger unless we stand up to them.”