Or, I thought, considering a few of the more unusual things I’d witnessed of late, maybe that fear is well-founded.
“You know, a sword never was my favorite weapon,” Mom murmured. “During raids, I always wielded an axe.”
“Really?” I asked. “Was that because you couldn’t touch iron?”
She gave me a knowing look. “Sara, I’m not feyborn. Iron does not harm me.”
There’s an advantage for the Seelie Queen. “Wasn’t an axe heavy?”
“Aye, but a heavy weapon flies truer and is better at splitting through armor. You don’t want to waste precious time on the battlefield trying to hack through your foe’s helmet.” She hefted the branch as if it were an axe and took a practice swing at an innocent tree. I refrained from mentioning that she looked like a baseball player. “Not to mention, an axe is much better at chopping through bone.”
“Huh.” I wondered if Ash could make Mom an axe. Now there’s an unusual Mother’s Day gift.
“If any of my fey blood yet remains, it has certainly gone on to you, Sara,” Mom said; I almost asked her what she was talking about.
“You really think so?”
“I do.” She tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear and patted my cheek. “You’ve always taken after me, just as surely as Sadie and Max take after your father.”
“But we’re all of copper,” I pointed out, rather unnecessarily.
“And Sadie’s the Metal Inheritor, yes. You, however, you have a strength about you that’s not just fey or Elemental, but a bit of both. You, Sara, are the one to be wary of.”
Me? Regular old Sara, strong and wariness-inducing? I’d never done anything particularly strong or amazing. I mean, I did find Max, but that wasn’t a very well thought-out plan. I had destroyed the Institute, too, but that was only because I was mad. It’s not like I’d done those things on purpose. My inner struggle must have been obvious, since Mom continued, “You’ve tried to be ordinary for so long that you’ve never really learned how to blossom. All of this—you living in the Otherworld and being with Micah—this is your chance, my darling.”
I blinked back tears, awed and shocked and so proud that my mother—a queen twice over—would say such things about me. Before I could blame the tears on the sun being in my eyes, Mom spoke again.
“Now that I’ve filled your head with ideas, let’s work those muscles. No victory is worth having unless you’ve fought for it, and, without good, sweaty training, you won’t be winning much of anything.”
I dropped back into my modified yoga pose and raised my branch. “All right. Show me how to take a brugh.” Mom laughed at that, and we spent the afternoon hacking away.
12
That particular gathering of magistrates and such must have been quite the meeting, since Micah didn’t return to the manor until long after I was asleep. When I woke, I found my elf snuggled around me and the usual disarray of clothing that accompanied his return. No matter if they’re human or elf, boys do tend to be messy.
I wondered how Micah would react if I told him he had some common traits with Max. He is cute when he frowns.
Since he’d obviously returned very late, I decided to let Micah sleep in. I took care to gently unwind his arms from around me and made my way to the kitchen, intent upon securing breakfast. I’d hardly touched my third cup of coffee when the elf himself joined me.
“Oriana would like to meet with us,” Micah announced, his eyes bleary and his hair even wilder than usual. His left hand clutched a scrap of parchment, which I assumed was an invitation from the Golden Court. Leave it to the silverkin to hand-deliver the mail despite the fact that their master should be sleeping. “Today.”
“The Gold Queen?” I considered my present self—unbathed, unbrushed, and with a liberal coating of toast crumbs. “Right now?”
“Not quite yet. We are to attend her midday meal.” Well, that was a relief. “Our queen desires to meet with all of the remaining metal lords, in private, before making her first public appearance.”
“All of the metal lords, all at once?” Now, please believe me when I say that ruling anyone—and I mean anyone—was far, far from my mind. However, I still hadn’t met anyone of copper, save for members of my family, and I couldn’t help but wonder who was ruling them. I mean, there had to be someone, right? Or, were they all on their own out there, scattered across the Otherworld like pennies in a wishing well? Then I considered the heap of gifts left languishing away in the atrium, and my morning toast became a ball of lead in my stomach.