Shadow Heir

“I don’t know what I can do,” I said. “Even if I went back … I mean, if Dorian and Maiwenn haven’t come up with any ideas, I’m not sure I could do better.”

“They mentioned something about uniting powers to attempt to break the spell…. I didn’t really follow that, though.” Roland’s tone conveyed that even if he pitied the gentry for their suffering, their magic was still something he had no use for. “Dorian also has some ideas about who’s responsible.”

Of course he would. Even if his own magical attempts proved ineffectual, Dorian wouldn’t sit idly by. He’d try to solve this mystery. My knowledge of the situation was limited, but I tried to figure out where his thought process might go. I jumped back to one of Roland’s earlier comments, about how some outlying kingdoms hadn’t been affected.

“Who isn’t under the blight?” I asked. “You said a few weren’t.”

“The Yew Land is one,” said Roland, looking surprised at my leap. “That’s who Dorian thinks—”

“—is responsible?” I guessed.

“How did you know that?”

“Because as much as I hate to admit it, I know how Dorian thinks. If some places were affected and some weren’t, I’d look at the unaffected ones too.”

“That’s what Dorian said.” Roland didn’t look pleased that I could “think like Dorian,” and I could definitely understand his dismay. “But that’s not all. Apparently, they’re making quite a profit off of food. Their land—and I guess their, what, subsidiaries?—are still able to grow and produce food, and they have no qualms about selling it to the stricken lands at very, very high prices.”

I was aghast. “That’s terrible.”

Roland shrugged. “But some of the monarchs are willing to pay, rather than see their people suffer. And it’s better than the alternative… .”

I looked up sharply at his ominous tone. “What alternative?”

“Stealing.”

“From the Yew Land?” I certainly didn’t endorse theft but was surprised Roland would care one way or another about gentry stealing from each other.

“No,” he said. “From humans. There are gentry who have been raiding our world for food and supplies.”

I gaped, unable to immediately form a response. I knew better than to say “that’s impossible” again, but it was still hard to believe. “If there were elementals going on food rampages, I think I would’ve heard about that. They’re not exactly subtle, and there are only a handful of gentry who can cross over in true form.” Dorian was one, but I knew with absolute confidence he’d never lower himself to that.

“A handful is all it takes,” said Roland. “And those are exactly the ones doing this—not the elementals. One of them’s that boy … the one I saw that day in the Rowan Land, whose sister had been attacked? You know him, right?”

I jumped back on my feet. “Pagiel? No. No way. He wouldn’t … no.” Once again, though, I had to question myself. Pagiel was entirely capable of crossing worlds intact. Even though I knew he was good at heart, I also knew he had a fierce, passionate streak about the things he believed in. He’d made it clear—both in his defense of me and his sister—that he didn’t care about the dangers involved if it meant doing what he believed was right. And if ever there was a cause that would trigger all his noble impulses, wouldn’t it be feeding his starving people?

Yes, Pagiel as an Otherworldly Robin Hood was very much a possibility. With his powers to control wind and air, he’d also be a formidable—

“Oh Lord,” I said. A flashback came to me of that weird story in the news about a Tucson robbery. “I saw something about a grocery store in Tucson. That was him, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Roland. “With a couple cronies. The one good thing is that they’re pretty fast and efficient. Most humans don’t know what they’re seeing when the hits occur, so there hasn’t been any mass hysteria about supernatural invaders—yet. And that’s the thing… .”

I snapped myself out of my dizzying ruminations and focused on him. The lines of his face were hard … and filled with sorrow. “What is?”

“Do you know how hard it was for me to come to you? I swore nothing would get me out here … no matter how many of those bastards come knocking at my door or tried to get me to tell where you were at.” I flinched, wondering just “how many” there had been. “I was willing to maintain the plan, no matter what, for as long as it took to keep you safe … and then all this came along. Never in a million years could I have foreseen this.”

“I don’t think anyone could have,” I said softly. Roland was usually unshakeable; it was hard to see him so worked up.

“When I saw those people, what they were going through … that nearly made me come for you then and there. Then, when I found out what that boy was doing … well, that sealed it. We can’t have that, Eugenie. You know we can’t. If other gentry catch on to what he’s doing and realize they too can just march on over and take what they want, you can imagine the chaos that would follow. What’s really awful about it all is that in some twisted way, I understand why he’s doing it. He’s a kid. He sees a problem, and he’s trying to fix it. God help me, maybe I’d do the same in his place.”

It occurred to me then that Roland’s emotion wasn’t just because he’d come to me in exile or because of gentry going on rabid shopping trips. Those were upsetting him, but the real problem was that Roland’s worldview had been shaken. He’d spent his life in the shamanic trade, crossing worlds and ousting those who didn’t belong in ours. His view of the gentry had never been good, and it had worsened when he’d rescued my mother and later seen the way I’d been ensnared in magical schemes. Yet, now, through a weird series of events, against everything he’d always told himself, he’d suddenly come to see the gentry as … people.

Having your beliefs radically altered like that—no matter what your age was—could be devastating. I knew that from personal experience.

I hugged him. “It’s okay,” I said, unable to remember any time in my life when I’d comforted him. “You did the right thing in coming to me. You’re right to feel like you do. I feel the same. It’s terrible—all of it.”

Roland awkwardly patted my back, and I knew he felt embarrassed by his emotions. With another sigh, he stepped back and regarded me wearily. “Yes, but what do we do about it? I can fight that kid off, you know. His hits are in Tucson—probably because of the gates—and I could easily call in a few outside shamans to help me. Still, I think a little reasoning might go farther.”

“It would,” I agreed. “Especially if it came from me.” It was also preferable to Pagiel getting banished. Unfortunately, me “reasoning” with him was easier said than done. “I have to go back.”

“Eugenie—”

“I can do it,” I said, more to myself than Roland. “I’ll be exposing myself, but it’ll be worth it—especially now that I’m not pregnant. Except, the thing is, if I leave here and let myself be known again …” Here it was, the awful truth that had been building within me since Roland explained about the blight. “If I go to Tucson, I might as well go to the Otherworld while I’m at it. Once I’m out of here, I’m out. If there’s some way I can help undo what’s been done and save my people—to save everyone’s people—then I should do it.”

I could tell by his face that he’d been thinking along those lines but wasn’t happy about the options either. “They really are distracted,” he said. “Your enemies. They’d probably leave you alone if you could help them.”

I nodded. “I know. I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about them.”

“The twins.”

I nodded again.

He took a long time in responding. “Well, the thing is, we can pull you out of here without anyone Otherworldly knowing where you were. And that means no one will know where the twins are either. They’ll be safe.”

“I know,” I said.

“Then what … ?”

Something in my stomach sank. “I don’t want to leave them, plus I won’t be able to contact them or get updates. And if I go to the Otherworld … well, you know how these things are. There’s no telling how long I’ll be gone.” The first time I’d gone to the Otherworld, I’d intended to make a quick late-night jaunt. By the time that mess was over, I’d ended up queen of the Thorn Land. “I don’t want to be away from them. I know it’s silly. They probably don’t even know I’m there, but I can’t help it. I just feel …”

“Like a mother,” he said. He put his arm back around me, seeming more at ease as the one doing the comforting.

“I suppose,” I admitted. “I didn’t think it’d happen. I’ve spent all these months afraid of them, afraid of what was happening to my body … and now that they’re here, I can’t imagine how I got by without them. Like I said, it’s silly … especially since I’ve barely touched them.”

“It’s not silly at all.” He was quiet for a few moments. “You don’t have to go, you know. It’s a mess, but no one expects you to take care of it.”

“I do. These are my people—in the Otherworld and in Tucson. How could I ignore them and then try to teach my children to do what’s right? I would always know I’d abandoned everyone else. Of course, if gentry start regularly raiding our world, my failure would hardly be a secret.” I laughed but found little humor in anything right now. I leaned my head against his chest, like I used to when I was little. “I have to do this. Isaac and Ivy will be okay. No one knows they’re here, and Candace and Charles have enough love for quintuplets. If the twins are discharged before I get back, they’ll be more than taken care of. It’s just …”