Page 98 of Crown of Ashes and Awe

“Welcome to the family,” the king said. “I expect to learn we have more in common than our good taste in cake.”

“Perhaps.”

“I am a blessed man to have so much of my family restored to me.”

“We must have a celebration,” Moire said, finally daring to speak.

I smirked. “How about a quiet one?”

The old man inclined his head. “As you wish. Just family?”

“Of course.” I could feel my friends deflate around me and was surprised they needed reassurance as badly as Tearloch had. “A quiet celebration with just family. But remember, there are nearly a dozen of me.”

Aristaeus studied each one of my friends in turn, then threw his arms wide, nearly striking Sweetie with his cane. “Welcome to the family!”

46

GLIMMER-NIMMS

Night fell around us as we made our trek back to the palace, but we had no need of torches or glow stones. Along the path and frolicking among the branches of trees, shrubs, and flowerbeds were the glimmer-nimms I had only read about—lights no bigger than the end of my little finger, carried or created by beings no one could see because of their blinding illumination.

They never came out in daylight, and they were rumored to escape to a different plane of existence to make their nests and sleep. But it was also believed that they drew the energy for their little lights from heartstone, which gave me a sort of kinship with them. And I wondered if the caverns below the palace might house more than just dragons…

Some books claimed they had magic. Some claimed the entire race was extinct. I was delighted to see the latter assertion was wrong.

Rowena leaned toward me and whispered, “They love the king. It’s rare he is out after dark, so this is a treat for them.”

“We don’t have them in the south. I never expected to see one, ever. But they’re…beautiful.”

A sudden burst of tinkling laughter proved they were listening, and when I turned to watch behind us, I noticed the lights brightened as the king passed them, then dimmed again.

I admitted, “He is a rather easy man to love.”

Tearloch strode along on my right, loosely holding my hand, catching my fingers with his if we strayed too far apart. Moire kept pace with him on his right. I could feel her peeking at me, but I ignored her for the most part.

Ahead of us, Griffon, Lennon, and Ghloir. The king’s carriers followed behind us, and our friends just beyond them. A procession of eight soldiers led us, and another group brought up the rear. It was a long, cheerful spectacle for such a late hour, complete with clusters of people—servants, royals, and even some druids—watching from numerous gardens as we passed.

It seemed none of them wanted to waste a chance to see the king, no matter the time of day.

The guards preceded us into the center building of the palace and on to the receiving room in which I’d been forced to wait for Tearloch when he’d had his audience with Moire. The guards stepped away before we reached the tall silver doors. They were opened wide at our approach by the little man who’d denied me entrance before.

Now, he bowed deeply. “Welcome home, Your Majesties.”

Once we were through the doors, I pulled Tearloch out of line so I could make sure all our family made it inside. When Lears, Poole, and Nogel were left, the little man took a step and raised a hand, but when I shook my head, he inclined his head and stepped back again.

“My family,” I said. “Try to remember their faces.”

“Of course, Princess.”

Our friends were careful to hold their laughter until they were through and the doors closed behind them. From the next room, a woman shrieked, and we hurried under a high arch of a doorway to find everyone frozen in place. Everyone but Moire, whose pointing finger shook.

“How dare you!” She lunged forward a step but stopped herself.

Sitting on an elaborately carved throne of well-smoothed wood and royal purple cushions…sat Demius clothed in his best robes and calm as you please, as if he’d waited a long while and would wait longer if necessary.

“Demius!” I cut through the crowd to get to him, threw my arms around him and closed my eyes. Then I recoiled. “A changeling! It has to be! Demius is dead.”

“That’s not Demius,” the king said sadly. Then made his way to a chair along the wall and lowered his old bones onto a cushion.

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