Page 13 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

I stumble while pushing to an upright position. It’s unsurprising that nobody rendered aid while I was unconscious. Erdene cannot freely traverse the great hall, and Da is locked up, so my head is still bruised and I have scrapes and cuts on my hands and knees. I might be able to heal myself once I feed a little more. Easy enough. Fortunately, everyone in this room is angry—and not with me. Over time, I’ve learned that righteous wrath tastes different than violent fury. I do strive to control myself at all times, though the effort is sometimes painful. I can’t remember when I didn’t feel hungry.

My movement, however, draws Lady Valnevi’s attention. “You’re awake. Since you did sign the agreement, the marriage and the treaty are binding. But if you cannot implement some plan for cohabitation, the Summer Court may manufacture cause for dissolution.”

I blink. “If I don’t move in with some random person, the realm could go to war?”

“Summer wants part of our territory,” Lord Liskaal snaps, as if I ought to know that.

One of the courtiers speaks, rambling about redrawn boundaries from some conflict that I’m too young to recall. I certainly haven’t studied fae history, as Da provided lessons of an entirely different variety. He’s not a generalist, but rather specialized in mischievous magic and wilding ways.

I shouldn’t articulate how much I don’t care about any of this while he’s still locked up. I need to be tactful. “I cooperated. If you want me to help further, keep our agreement.” I pause delicately, because Lady Valnevi has no choice. Unlike me, she can’t renege on a deal. “Where’s my dad?”

A familiar hobgoblin slips through the crowd, stealthy as a shadow, and until he speaks, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who notices him. Spells for skulking and skullduggery indeed. “I’m here, my gem. The commotion was fierce. Are you hurt?” Warm, rough hands take mine, and he tries to turn them palm up to assess the damage.

Not wanting to worry him, I quickly turn that scan into a hug. “Not really.”

Lady Valnevi makes an ominous sound at the back of her throat. “I did not give you leave to speak,” she says to Da, though her gaze lances through me.

I wonder who let him out. Possibly the boggart, though Da is endlessly resourceful. “Apologies. I thought I should let Thea know that I’m safe and sound.”

As far as I’m concerned, this marriage can be dissolved. If they want me to live as a hostage in the Summer Court, they can offer me a better reason than pretending they want to avoid a war. In truth, they wish to feign reluctance so they can claim they exhausted all avenues for diplomacy before being forced to military action.

Perception is everything. They need to shellac some righteousness atop their overweening ambition. I don’t know for sure that Summer even wants more of Winter’s lands. Given what I know of their character, Lord Liskaal and Lady Valnevi might be the aggressors, trying to steal from Summer.

Regardless, those two are nothing if not deceptive. So if I cooperate and leave Winter, taking my calming properties with me, tension will subside in the Summer lands while Winter gains the space to foment resentment. And when Summer no longer wishes to do battle, Winter will attack.

I’m a cursed gift, after all.

The document I signed is crumpled on the floor, and I stoop to pick it up. Earlier, I didn’t examine it closely, but the signature is scrawled to the point of being illegible. If I squint, I can make out the letters. Devan J. Fenelon. Nobody I know, then, or at least no one I recall meeting when various Summer delegations visited.

Lord Liskaal shares a speaking look with his lady. Her silvery lashes flutter. But before she can speak, a harried guard sprints into the room, wheezing out a few desperate words: “We have completed the search as you ordered.”

“Well?” Lady Valnevi screeches.

“They’re gone. The entire delegation is gone.”

“Gone where?” Lord Liskaal demands.

“Unknown. There were signs of a struggle in the quarters where they were assigned. I’ve been assured that the front gates never opened.”

“Portal magic. Kerboros should be waiting for us to debrief.” Lady Valnevi tries to seem unaffected, but her lips twitch, revealing her distress.

If the Summer envoy comes to harm during a diplomatic mission, the Winter Court will bear all the blame, and they’re not ready for battle yet. They thought they had more time to gather support and get alliances in place, but it seems some crafty schemer is trying to accelerate the timetable. I make eye contact with Da, who tilts his head ever so subtly toward the archway that leads out of this grand and gleaming hall.

I move so slowly that it hurts my joints and sinews, and with each incremental motion, I expect someone to turn on me and shout, She’s running away! But they’ve momentarily forgotten about me in light of current events. Eventually, I make it to the corridor with my da right behind me, and I let out a sigh that’s more like a groan of relief.

“That was…” He makes a gesture as if he’s dusting away something unpleasant. “Shall we go home?”

“Please,” I mumble, as the aches and pains and exhaustion set in.

He’s quiet as we tiptoe through the palace complex, adroitly avoiding guards and messengers racing about in reaction to the vanishing of the Summer delegation. It doesn’t take long for us to reach our sanctuary. His room is above the barn, and mine is a loft within that space, ample when I was small, a bit cramped now, though I’ll call it cozy.

It is decorated with shiny things I’ve given to him over the years. There’s a padded bench for sitting and sleeping, a low table set upon a rug woven by brownies out of pooka hair, and a few shelves fastened to the walls. In the loft above, there’s a sleeping mat from river reeds and dried flowers, along with a plethora of pillows. I can’t wait to crawl up there and collapse.

“Have you eaten, my jewel?”

“Erdene gave me a snack.”

“Nothing substantial, I’ll wager.”