The whole of her body balked at going to the meeting. Emily was still uncertain what she would say to the people who’d manipulated her childhood and the childhood of others in a mad attempt to get their way. Arm around her shoulders, Janice walked Emily to a car she didn’t recognise. That made sense: her aunt’s old car wouldn’t have lasted another five years, let alone ten.
“The hatchback finally gave out. I was using your bike for a while until I got a deal on this.” Janice proudly slapped the roof of the car. When she unlocked the driver’s side, it triggered all the other doors to unlock with a satisfying clunk. Emily slid inside, gasping a little at the interior.
“This is nice!”
Her aunt smiled while pulling open the ashtray. “Well, it’s just over ten years old, so it would have been a newer luxury vehicle when you left. It’s still luxurious, just no longer new.” She fumbled in glove box, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Emily frowned while she lit one.
“Aunt Janice!”
Her aunt smiled sadly around the flame. “Becky is a terrible influence. But I only smoke in the car.” She hit buttons on the console to partially lower both front windows.
Emily snagged a cigarette from her aunt’s pack, shaking her head. The car pulled smoothly onto the road and they drove in silence. When she saw that they weren’t going directly back to the court, Emily relaxed, sinking more comfortably into the seat. “I missed going on drives.”
“It is one of the wonders of the mundane world.” Janice grinned crookedly.
“Do you think you’re going to go back?” Emily watched the bright lines of the road glowing in the beginning dusk.
“Probably. The Sidhe is bigger than just that kingdom, so I never have to see any of these people again. Becky says she’s going to stay at the Institute; I might stay with her awhile, try to get my bearings again before heading off.”
Janice glanced at her quiet niece and dragged hard on her cigarette. When she spoke again, her tone was apologetic. “I’ve spent far more of my life there than here.” She swallowed, hands tight on the wheel. “I don’t want to die, Emily. I wasn’t always a queen, you know. I had my own adventures before all that.”
“I understand.” Emily’s voice was distracted. “I’m mostly worried about the kids. I don’t know how much they want to go, especially with learning who their parents are.”
“You didn’t have to tell them that.”
Emily shook her head vehemently. “I did. They’re people. They’ve always been people, even when they were small. And their lives happened to ensure that I’d become the person you all would need. That’s absolutely terrible.” Emily crushed her cigarette out in a sharp jab. “They deserve to know what’s going on and to make their own decisions.”
Janice sighed. “I know.” She put out her cigarette and rolled all the windows down to let fresh air course through the car. “But we can’t figure any of this out until we see what’s going to happen.”
They both fell silent as Janice turned the car back to the court.
The meeting was at the Terrins’ house. Emotions warred in Emily: it wasn’t very long ago for her that Becky had sat on this porch and told her about the Sidhe while the children slept inside. Janice opened the door for Emily, who tried to keep her expression firm as she faced the crowded room.
As with Janice and Becky, the years she’d been gone could be seen in the bodies and faces of the court, in grey hair, wrinkles, and age’s softening and sharpening of features. She wasn’t sure but it seemed like the group was smaller than she remembered, by one or two people. Emily was glad for her aunt’s protective presence at her back. It was going to be hard to forget a lifetime of deference to adults. Janice leaned against the door’s frame, but Emily stayed standing, hands loose at her sides.
“You can go back.” Emily’s mouth was dry but she pressed on before anyone could interrupt. “Through the arbour; good thing you’ve kept it up. I had to kill the queen to win you this and she told me—” The eyes watching her sharpened and tension ran through the court’s shoulders like a wire being tightened. Emily forced the words out and they gathered their own momentum.
“She told me what you all were, what you did. Not that anybody cares: that’s how they are, how you all are. Everybody is just a pawn. People don’t matter, a person doesn’t matter, when you play games to save yourself from eternal boredom.”
She stood planted, her body frozen in place with anger and spite. “You got bored with a hundred years of comparative peace and, rather than go elsewhere to find trouble to lighten your days, you decided to meddle. War is a lovely change, isn’t it? And if it ruins and kills others, that’s a sad side effect and also a spice. Playing double agent just adds to the excitement. I’m sure it was thrilling to lie to comrades while they believed you were on their side. Even finding out you’d been exiled, stripped of your powers, and forced to mortality couldn’t have been too worrying.’
“Not a bother at all: just a new opening for another game to play, with the freshest material of all, children! You could sculpt a mind from the start, with the additional bonus of manipulating the child of people you’d betrayed. How brave of you to play mortal so well, and how dedicated to your roles, to birth and raise children ignorant of their true purpose as obligations for your key to the Sidhe.’
“I’m mixing my metaphors here but I’m sure you’re all getting it. Here’s a better one for you: a bonsai tree. Harassed and encouraged, just so, to grow in a way that pleases the eye and suits a purpose. How well your experiment performed! It took longer than expected and I’m sorry that you began to bore of the game you were playing, but you’ve won! You can go back to your precious fairyland.’
“But what are you going to do with your children? Will you bring them with you? Will they wake up one morning, alone in their homes? Do you plan to give them any explanation?” Emily paused her tirade for a breath, measuring the room. There was chained anger in their faces. She could feel her aunt behind her, pressed against the door, a twitch away from bolting. Janice had probably just noticed what Emily had tucked into her waistband when they’d stopped at the trailer on their way to the meeting.
“So,” she spat. Everything was growing a sparkling halo, with the sharp, serrated knife edges that Emily remembered from late nights studying while drinking the strongest coffee possible. “Are you that kind of spineless shits? Mind you, I wouldn’t be surprised if your eagerness to vacate the mundane world has short-circuited any sense of responsibility you might feel towards the people you’ve made.’
“You owe us more than that. The one thing I learned in the Sidhe is that you don’t get something for nothing.” Fluidly, Emily pulled the knife from the back of her waistband and held it above her head. It flared briefly—a shining broadsword that sliced blades from the ceiling fan—then it was again a dull, bloodstained knife. Jagged whirring from the fan accompanied her final words. “I got you your passage by killing the queen. But I never named a price for taking this quest. Before you leave this world, you have to decide what to do with your children, and it has to be generous and kind.”
Janice nearly fell as she swung the door open. They left as the court’s silence erupted into an arguing ocean of babble.
Emily fell onto the couch, grimaced, then removed the knife sheath from the back of her pants. “I didn’t see Becky there.” Emily felt weirdly calm. “What I did wasn’t stupid, was it?”
“No.” Janice hung up her coat and crossed the short space to the kitchen. “Dangerous, maybe, but not stupid. Do you want something to eat?”
“Sure.” Emily’s stomach leapt to life. “I’m starving, actually.” She joined her aunt, opening cupboards full of unfamiliar packaging.
They talked about the kids while they ate. From what Janice could tell, they more or less kept out of mischief. The coffee shop had opened just in time to give them somewhere to hang out.
“With a place to go and each other, they’ve got something to occupy their time and keep them from inventing trouble.” Janice spoke around her sandwich. “Not all kids are as good as you were, hanging around home and making your own fun.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” Emily tried to take the edge off her words. “Of course, you were a good influence, enjoying the results of the sexual revolution as only an ex-Victorian could.”
Janice laughed, full and hard.
Unpacking her backpack later that evening, Emily found the envelope of money from the king. She’d forgotten about the film she was supposed to get for the hare. Light snores from the next room told Emily that her aunt was already asleep. She would figure out where to pick up the film in the morning.
This post is part of The Audacity Gambit – Serialised. Learn more about when the book was first published here, see the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you: