The Waning Moon Read online

  “That is not the biggest problem you’ve had on this journey,” Florence said.

  “I wish I’d had a magical bank account when I was in college.”

  “No one needs a magical bank account in college,” Florence said. “People in college are too stupid for unlimited funds.”

  “There may be a run on the banks once Arduinna’s people make the announcement,” Isaac said. “People will panic, especially if the scope of the upcoming events is disclosed.”

  “This is going to suck.”

  “You could not make the announcement,” Isaac said.

  “I can’t be responsible for any more deaths. Not if I can prevent them.”

  “There is no easy answer,” Florence said. “If Arduinna’s people make the announcement, people who would otherwise die in plane crashes will be saved and nuclear reactor personnel will have a chance to escape. On the other hand, if the announcement isn’t made, the reactors will still be secured, but people might be trapped in the bubbles as they are dismantled, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “Some people will need to be in there to oversee the controlled shut-down. Those people ideally would be volunteers, but unless there’s a bunch of self-sacrificing Fae out there, they’ll use humans. The Fae can construct the bubbles at night when the fewest people are there and ensure one person at each site will have the correct orders. Surely the supernatural president and military brass can take care of that.”

  “What about the planes?”

  “I’ll give Arduinna my FAA friend’s name, and he can receive his orders directly from the military to shut down air traffic around St. Louis. They can order an evacuation of the city, let them know there is a credible terrorist plot against the city—confirm the events in Portland and Rapid City were related, and blame it on some hitherto unknown group headed by a Hans Gruber-like fellow. We don’t want armed idiots going after brown-skinned people.”

  “Florence, you are brilliant.”

  “I know. You should still load up on cash, and we’ll keep buying supplies that will be worth more than cash once the country finally collapses, but it’s in everyone’s best interest to delay as much as possible.”

  I mulled over my options during the day. My choices weren’t great, but after Florence’s comments, I felt like I at least had choices. I’d suggested a similar course of action to Arduinna the night before, though, and she’d dismissed it out of hand. I thought back over that conversation, trying to figure out why the “blame it on the terrorists” course of action had been shot down—no pun intended.

  Leaks, Arduinna had said. There were people who knew the truth who didn’t want it to be a secret. They must be threatening to go public in a less controlled way or something. I’d have to ask Arduinna.

  That evening before dinner, I waited at the edge of the clearing until Arduinna appeared. Isaac and Florence stood a little behind me, content, apparently, to let me run the show.

  When she was within hailing distance, she bowed before coming close enough to converse without shouting.

  “Your Highness,” she greeted me.

  “Arduinna.”

  “Have you decided?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will schedule the announcement with my contacts.”

  “That’s not what I decided.”

  Arduinna froze. For the first time since I’d met her, she looked nonplussed. “You have decided to let events happen as they will? To kill thousands?”

  “Arduinna, it’s great you’re pretending to care about humans for my sake, but you don’t need to.”

  “They are irresponsible parasites who do not deserve this land they are destroying. It will take decades—maybe centuries—to restore the land. However, not all humans are guilty. Some are merely complicit.”

  “I have questions before I tell you my decision. Will you listen and answer true?”

  Arduinna looked at me, weighing her answer. “As far as I am able without saying anything I am forbidden to tell you.”

  “Fair enough. How do you travel? You’re always coming out of groves of trees.” I thought about the first time we met, and began to understand even before she answered.

  “I have an…affinity for trees. Where there are woods, or even an old, strong tree, I can travel. Well-established trees are in a…network, you might say. I merge my consciousness with one and reach out into the network to find my destination.”

  “You’re emailing yourself through a tree network?”

  “Treemailing would be an accurate term,” Arduinna said, deadpan.

  “I love it when you’re funny. Maybe someday you’ll loosen up enough to have a beer with me.”

  “That seems unlikely, Highness.”

  “We’ll see.” I grinned. I didn’t think she despised me as much as she pretended. “Second question: How do you find me?”

  “I am attuned to you in a similar way Finn is attuned to you,” she said.

  “At some point in my past, you not only created a mental connection between me and Finn but me and you?”

  She nodded.

  “Why tell me now?”

  “I was not forbidden to tell you, and I can see no reason to hide the truth. At this point, you would prefer me to be your Fae on the ground, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “That means you will not attempt to kill me to remove this bond, especially since the only other Fae you are connected to is Finn.”

  “Fair enough. The only two Fae with this connection to me are you and Finn?”

  “That I know about, yes.”

  “One last question. If the Fae cannot lie, how can they be spies and double-agents? How can someone work for both my father and the Dark Queen and not be caught?”

  Arduinna took longer to answer this question. “It is not easy,” she said. “The double-agent would have to be even more skilled than most in deceptive truths to never lie but to continue to serve two masters. If asked, “Are you a spy?” it would not be enough to answer, “Why would you think that of me?” or “How could you accuse me of such a crime?” because a competent questioner would continue to drill the person until they got a definitive answer. Instead, the person must be so successful the question of guilt would never come up—they would have to divide their allegiance and be loyal to both parties. Not many are capable of such things.”

  “How do you trust a double-agent knowing their loyalties are divided?”

  “You don’t.”

  What’s the point then? I wondered, but did not say. I clearly had a lot to learn about politics.

  “Thank you for answering my questions. Now here is my decision.” I outlined the plan Florence had laid out earlier. I watched Arduinna carefully for any signs of disgruntlement, but she showed no emotion.

  “You said there were opportunists who wanted the supernaturals to be exposed in a less-than-flattering manner?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “If you know about them, then they have been identified. Is there a way to neutralize them for the time being?”

  Arduinna grinned, and I hastened to add, “Non-lethally.”

  “I will think on it, Highness.”

  “What if you told them they could be the ones to make the announcement at a later date?” Isaac asked. “Let them have the glory at a time of your choosing.”

  “President Murphy and General Aldea might not agree.”

  “Why wouldn’t they? If they’re going to manipulate the timeline and the American public, wouldn’t it be better to paint themselves in a more sympathetic light? They can prepare for the announcements by doing everything they can to ensure they—and by association other supernaturals—look good,” Florence said.

  I looked at her admiringly. “You are frighteningly good at this.”

  “You have a worthy advisor,” Arduinna said. “She would be at home in the Fae courts.”

  I saw Florence stiffen and wanted to punch Arduinna in the face. I wasn’t sure if she knew why the mage
was with me and was going for a painful jab, or if it truly was a compliment.

  “Thank you, Arduinna. Do you need anything else from me? Will you follow the spirit of what I want?”

  She smiled, showing more teeth than I was comfortable with. “I understand your wishes.”

  “And?” I prompted.

  “I will follow your instructions, adhering to the spirit of what you wish to accomplish.”

  “Please let me know if the President or the general have any issues with this policy.”

  “And if they do have…issues…what will you do?” Arduinna sounded genuinely curious.

  “I’m not sure,” I said.

  “I can talk to Mircea Aldea,” Raj said as he strode forward to stand beside me.

  “I’m going to put a bell on you.”

  “You know General Aldea?” Arduinna asked. Her expression gave nothing away, but I don’t think she was surprised.

  “I’ve known him since before he adopted his uncle’s surname to try to duck the assumptions and questions people made about his family.”

  It sounded like there was a story there, but I decided it could wait.

  “Does President Murphy know what I’m doing?” I asked.

  Arduinna nodded.

  “And does she want me to keep on with that? Or would she rather the world stay as it is so she can maintain her position of power?”

  “She has stated she would like the gates opened. I believe she is hoping to maintain her position and broaden her powers. She is extremely old and incredibly powerful. Those who will call for her to step down when it’s revealed she’s not human are the same people who already want her out of sight for having the temerity to be female. Her honesty makes her hated in many circles.”

  “People only want an honest politician if they tell comfortable truths,” Florence said.

  “Was George Washington Fae?” I asked. “He had that ‘cannot tell a lie’ going on.”

  Everyone looked at Arduinna.

  “Not as far as I know.”

  I was surprisingly disappointed.

  “With your permission? There is a lot to do in the next weeks.”

  “You may go.” I waved my hand imperiously. She bowed low, straightened, and disappeared into the trees.

  “I want to know more about General Aldea,” I said to Raj.

  “It will be a lovely campfire story at some other time. For tonight, I dropped by only to see if there was anything you needed.”

  “Would you stay and eat with us?” Florence asked. “I brought a lovely red wine for you.”

  “Thank you. I would enjoy that.”

  The morning of the first day of the three-day full moon cycle started too early. Isaac left to meet the rest of the pack, leaving me alone with Florence at the campground.

  I tried not to think about the bonding ceremony scheduled for the following evening. Luis had told me what to expect—there’d be words and an exchange of flesh. After that, Isaac would turn into a wolf and run with the pack, and I’d spend the evening with my non-shifter pals. It sounded simple, if a bit gross. My emotions weren’t simple, though. It was the latest weird situation in a string of weird situations, and I had a lot of mixed feelings. I only hoped no one asked me about them.

  Of course, the minute I had that thought, Florence asked, “Would you like to talk?”

  “No. I’d like to panic.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  I gathered my thoughts. “You won’t tell Isaac?”

  “Not unless what you’re afraid of is him,” she promised.

  “I’m not afraid of Isaac. He would never hurt me.” I immediately revised my statement. “He would never hurt me on purpose. Any hurt taken because of Isaac would be unintentional on his part.”

  “Talking to the Fae is weird. Does it hurt when you say something not completely true? Arduinna did the same thing yesterday when she realized she’d said something not completely true.”

  “It’s uncomfortable but not precisely painful. You’re an honest person. Do you feel uncomfortable when you tell a deliberate untruth?”

  “Sometimes. Not if I believe my lie is justified, though. Telling someone an untruth that does no harm—like “You look wonderful in that dress,”—doesn’t bother me. How would you phrase that?”

  “I would find something both complimentary and true like “that color looks amazing on you!” I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings. If I didn’t hate it with a fiery passion, I’d be great to take shopping. I will never lie to you in the store. If a color clashes with your complexion, I’ll tell you.”

  We lapsed into a comfortable silence as the sun sank below the horizon.

  I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder.

  “You’re early!” I accused.

  “You’re jumpy and not paying attention to your surroundings.”

  “He’s right. He shouldn’t be able to sneak up on you all the time.”

  “He gets in under my radar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I knew immediately when Arduinna arrived last night. I not only felt her pull on the earth, but immediately after, she hit the shields. It’s my first line of defense. It has no real substance or use except as an alarm. I only use it when we’re relatively alone because otherwise people would be jangling it constantly. It recognizes both of you and Isaac, because I don’t want you jangling me, either.”

  “You would enjoy being jangled by me,” Raj said.

  I rolled my eyes. “The second line is my real shields. The one that keeps everything I say and do distorted to watching eyes. People can see us and hear us, but it’s like we’re under water.”

  Florence and Raj stared at me.

  “What?” I felt defensive.

  “That’s amazing,” Florence said. “I can’t believe you set that up on your own.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  She waved my concerns away. “What I mean is that’s advanced level shielding. Being able to create an alarm-only shield and key it to specific people is high level, and since you’ve only been working on shielding at all for the last two months, that is truly impressive.”

  “Thank you.” I said, mollified.

  Raj poured a glass of wine and asked, “Are you ready for your big day?”

  I set down my beer, put my head between my legs, and concentrated on breathing.

  “Damn it, vamp. I’d finally distracted her.”

  “Why should she be distracted? If she hyperventilates every time she thinks of forming a permanent mate bond, how will she get through the ceremony without making a fool of herself?”

  Good question.

  “What are you afraid of?” Florence asked again.

  “Permanence.”

  “Nothing is permanent,” Raj said. “Even for immortals such as us. Either of you could be killed at any time, even if you did nothing more with your lives than sit on the couch and watch television shows starring handsome vampires. You could be decapitated by a runaway semi-truck on your way to the grocery store for Cheetos. Since you’re doing something a great deal more dangerous, that ups your chances of death considerably.”

  “So not helping, Raj.”

  “I sometimes forget how young you are. Once you have a couple lifetimes under your belt, death starts to lose its fear-inducing-quality. I’ve heard the theory the old ones start to long for death, and perhaps that is true for some. When you’ve outlived your family several times over and the mortals you know keep dying, it is hard to stay positive, but I do not long for death. I no longer fear it. Someday you will feel that way, too.”

  “That day is not today,” I said.

  “Fair enough. Let me try again. You are afraid of permanence?”

  I nodded.

  “Basically, you’re having commitment issues.”

  I opened my mouth to protest. That sounded magazine article trite.

  He kept talking, “You have prophecies that encourage an ur
gent, permanent bonding, both from your dragon half, which you should really work on fully integrating with your non-dragon half, by the way, and from your witch.” Florence glared at him when he used the “w” word, but he kept going. “If you’d been allowed to get to this point without the urgency of the auguries, you probably wouldn’t be tense about the whole thing. Isaac loves you. You love him—”

  “—I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use…”

  “I don’t care what word you’d use. You love the wolf. You hate there’s one more thing in your life not in your control. For the entire summer—maybe your entire life—you’ve never felt as though you’ve had a choice in anything. Am I right?”

  I closed my mouth that was hanging open in shock. “Maybe.” I certainly couldn’t discount it, and maybe was a nice, equivocal word.

  “You don’t fear the permanence of the bonding as much as you resent the violation of your agency that brought you to this point. If you really were worried about the immutability of the bond, you’d have found a way to delay it another moon cycle or two, regardless of what the prophecies say.”

  “Plausible,” I muttered.

  Raj sat beside me on the picnic bench. He tipped my chin with his hand until my gaze met his. “Eleanor Jane Morgan, you are a wonder. You are smart, funny, courageous, and beautiful. You inspire love and loyalty from those who barely know you and you will fight fiercely to protect those to whom you have given your friendship. If I didn’t know how much you loved that wolf, I’d be trying much, much harder to get in your pants.

  “You feel you’re not making real choices, coasting along making non-choices because of circumstances, but if you weren’t who you were, you would be making different choices. You could’ve stayed with Finn out of obligation or complacency. You didn’t have to apply yourself to the magical or martial arts. You could’ve asked Arduinna for more guards and protectors. You didn’t have to agree to bring along Isaac or Florence. You could’ve had Salem killed when she and a group of rogue vampires”—he winked—“attacked without provocation. You didn’t have to agree to dinner with me and you didn’t have to call me when you killed Rasputin. You could’ve gone along with any of Arduinna’s plans—either to let thousands and thousands die or to be exposed too early. In fact, you didn’t have to worry about the nuclear power plants and ask for her help all. These are choices you’ve made. You.”