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Daylight filtered through a stained-glass window high on the far wall, casting the stairs in a myriad of blues and reds and purples as we made our way down. The foyer below was empty, so I stopped us midway down, turning to look up at the window. If Derrick wondered why, he didn’t ask, instead giving me time to take in the grandeur of the place the way I could not the evening before.
The window itself was created in the shape of a shield and the images formed within the glass were of heraldic design. It had a gold border, and an azure background, and at its center was a man’s shape that tapered up into the clear form of a werewolf. His arms were bowed back, his chest thrust forward, and his head tilted into what could only be a howl. The claws on either hand were done in red glass that glinted in the sunlight. At the topmost corners of the shield were two symbols: one an acorn, the other a crown.
“Impressive, isn’t it,” Derrick said.
“What does it mean?” I asked, nodding up at the heraldry.
Derrick gave me a puzzled look, his mouth tugging down into a frown. “You weren’t taught blazonry?”
“I was taught enough that I know it’s important, but I couldn’t name the pieces or what they’re supposed to mean.”
His gaze sharpened, narrowing down at me with an intensity that made my gut flutter. Sensing that I’d stumbled onto another tradition of Fairy, I stared back at him and wished yet again that Bess and Martin had taken the time to visit the place. I felt a great deal like a songbird trying to swim.
“Odd,” Derrick said after a moment, and then he gestured to the window. “The color azure is prominent. It means stability and calm. The Leslie’s have maintained the Allegany region for centuries and earned that color.”
“And the gold?”
“Gold symbolizes generosity. They earned that border color early on. I haven’t seen them particularly generous in the past decade.”
“Well, certainly not with Ms. Maureen marrying off her daughter to maintain a monopoly on oil.”
Derrick smirked and nodded at me. “They probably have selected charities they give to, but my definition of generous is more akin to random and free acts, rather than an account they can check off on the ledgers.”
I hummed in agreement and eyed the window. “I understand the werewolf center. But what about the acorn and the crown in the corners?”
“The acorn means independence. They earned that symbol by establishing themselves apart from the clans in Fairy and the old world.”
I imagined by old world he meant Mesopotamia and all the nations surrounding. It wasn’t known as the cradle of life for nothing.
“And the crown represents the Leslie’s status as victors. They established their own empire and are, so far as Fairy is concerned, a voice of earthside authority. They have delegates in Fairy and at the CEB who can influence the laws we hold.”
That much I understood. I knew about the great council held in Fairy every decade. That was how the Interspecies Marital Law had been passed, after all. Uncle Martin often bemoaned the whole council as a bunch of busybodies with not enough to do, who were intent on ruining his life.
To be fair, his shop often dealt with magic items that oughtn’t to make their way into human hands.
Turning back to the stairs, I allowed Derrick to lead the way down. The foyer was empty save for the massive grandfather clock ticking away at the back wall, and all the doors were closed that had been open the night before. Ornate doorknobs hung in ebony stained wood, barring the view of servant passages, ballroom, and dining hall that had seemed so elegant and cheery before.
No phone, I noticed. Not that I imagined they would permit me to use one, but it would have been nice to know the option was there.
It was strangely quiet in the big house, with not even the muted tones of a television in the distance, and I wondered if this was another element of the Fairy way. Perhaps Bright of the Leslie’s stature were not permitted such a human device. I hadn’t seen one in Delilah’s room either. Asking Derrick would only earn me another one of those pointed stares that said I should know these things, so I held back my questions as we reached the bottom of the stairs.
With a scowl I rubbed at the hard knot of runestone buried in my palm and followed Derrick through the front doors. I was tired of feeling at a loss and wished again to access my magic. Straining to see the aether, I was rewarded by a sudden popping sound in both of my ears, as though I had climbed a great height, and the world became muffled.
The aether flickered in my vision, bright ribbons of magic flashed about me in a myriad of colors, and for half a second, I could see the amber-gold core of Derrick beside me. Settled just below his breastbone, nestled in with his heart, that magic sustaining him as a werewolf beamed steady and true, and I sighed a little.
“Nora?”
In a blink, the aether was torn from me, all the world settling back to its natural colors, and the runestone seared hot in my palm. Hissing a curse, I gripped my wrist.
Derrick stopped us on the gravel driveway. “Nora, what is it?”
His fingers curled around my own as I tried to hold the offending limb steady. Pain throbbed through my hand and we both watched as the skin at the base of my thumb began to glow. The light took the shape of that cursed rune, shining pinkish gold through my skin. Its clear outlines were still unfamiliar and in seconds the light subsided.
I continued to stare, gulping down steadying breaths as the pain subsided, while Derrick held my hands. His brow was furrowed, his mouth set in grim lines. He gently brushed his thumb over my skin, tracing where the rune had been as though trying to memorize its pattern.
“Is that normal?” I asked.
I was still panting a little when his eyes met mine, clear blue and shining with concern.
