Shadow Heir

We were outside, taking in the nice weather, about a week after I’d last seen Roland. “Well,” I said, “they, um, check my vitals. Like blood pressure and stuff like that.”

“Blood pressure?”

“It’s kind of like your pulse. But kind of not,” I said lamely. Yeah. I really wasn’t the best person to be explaining medical lingo.

Dorian leaned back against a tree. “Well, any of our healers could do that for you. I could do it for you even.”

“It’s more complicated than that. And sometimes, I have ultrasounds at my appointments.”

“Ultrasounds?”

And so went the rest of our conversation, with me having to constantly stop and explain what I’d just said. Each time, Dorian had some gentry equivalent for whatever I described. Some were more far-fetched than others, like when he said he was certain gorging on cake all day would achieve the same results as a blood-sugar test. He also had a very complicated explanation about how balancing a chicken in a tree was a well-established gentry method of determining gender. I was almost certain he knew there was no real equivalent to half the things I told him about and that he was making most of this up on the spot. He was simply trying to entertain me with the outlandish. Describing a C-section, however, brought his quips to a halt.

“I don’t really know what to say about that,” he told me honestly. “It seems very extreme. And dangerous.”

“Maybe here it would be,” I said, thinking of the gentry aversion to metal. A scalpel might as well be a sword. “Among humans, it’s a pretty safe and standard thing. Saves a lot of lives—though I’d rather avoid it if I can. I don’t want a scar.”

Dorian considered. “Actually, that’s the only part I can understand. Why not wear a scar of motherhood? Better than a tattoo or some other mark of honor. Let the world know what you’ve achieved.”

I stretched out on my side in the grass. “I’d rather just let the kids speak for themselves.”

He smiled and let the subject go. “There’ve been no more attacks on Eugenie lookalikes, by the way. It seems Maiwenn has more restraint than we thought.”

“That’s good,” I said. The guilt over Ansonia still haunted me. “Beyond good. So you don’t need to raze her kingdom just yet?”

“Not quite yet, no. Though I nearly would for what she’s put you through.” I think he meant it. After all, he’d once run a guy through to defend my honor.

“Well, I’m still doing okay. That’s what counts.”

Dorian shook his head. “There are lots of ways to be ‘okay.’ We haven’t made a science of stress like you humans have, but even I know all this worry can’t be good for you. It’s not just your body I want safe. I also want you to be—”

Whatever he wanted was lost as a guard came and announced that Roland was here. The lazy, funny atmosphere with Dorian vanished. A mix of emotions warred within me as I realized what this meant. My days of procrastination were over. Part of me was happy to finally get things rolling. It would ensure the greater good for everyone. The rest of me—the cowardly part—dreaded the consequences that would soon unfold. Dorian wore a kind, sincere look, and I could barely meet his eyes as I mumbled an apology and hurried off to talk to Roland.

“You found a place,” I said, once Roland and I were alone.

“I did.” He glanced around nervously. I’d taken him to my bedroom, not wanting to risk even my discreet bodyguards overhearing something. Still, Roland regarded the room as suspect, as though perhaps there were magical ears within the walls. “Though I’d rather not tell you where until the last minute.”

“That’s fair,” I said, despite the curiosity that burned within me.

“I can tell you that it’s a town that has a shaman on hand—and old friend of mine that I trust implicitly. She doesn’t know your exact story, of course, but she understands there’s some danger. She’s more than willing to defend you if necessary.” He smiled wryly. “And hopefully she’ll remove any temptation you have to do shamanic housecleaning. You see something going on, you just tell her.”

The next most complicated part was figuring out how to get me to this secret location. The Otherworld lined up with the human world in a very rough way. It wasn’t an exact match, but gates had a geographic similarity. For example, there was a favorite crossing spot of mine in the Thorn Land that led back to Tucson. One kingdom over, in Dorian’s land, there was a gate that opened in New Mexico. Another nearby one went to Texas. That’s how it was in this region of the Otherworld; most crossings led to the American Southwest. That was why I’d had to travel to the Honeysuckle Land to reach the Ohio gate. Roland didn’t elaborate, but from what I could gather, his safe house was not in the Southwest, meaning I’d have to travel far in either this world or the human one.