dozen, you have only to ask. I’ll pay for everything.”
Feeling better but still overwhelmed, I decided I’d had enough wedding talk for the moment. I turned my thoughts toward the parley. Ginty’s Waystation Bar and Grill was the one place where we could safely have both the Queens of Light and Dark Fae in the same room and be sure nobody was going to get killed.
The Fae had a history of warring with one another as far back as time could remember. The Light and Dark courts weren’t that different, but they were mortal enemies, locked in an eternal battle for supremacy. Yet neither one could exist without the other. The balance was necessary between light and dark, between shadow and sunlight. But they still fought, driven by an internal instinct to destroy one another.
The fact that I was a product of both courts proved to be a problem for most of the Fae, who saw me as tainted because of my mixed blood. TirNaNog and Navane—the two great cities—were mere shadows of their mother-states back in Annwn. There, the wars between the two great Courts of Fae were horrendous, the carnage unending. Throughout the eons they had battled, and untold lives had been lost in the wars. It all seemed like such a waste, such a callous disregard for life. But the Fae weren’t known for wisdom, and as intelligent as some of them could be, they were also petty, jealous, and arrogant—a deadly combination.
Here on Earth, Saílle was Queen of the Dark Court, and Névé, Queen of the Light Court. They mirrored each other, opposites and yet so much alike. Neither queen appreciated the fact that I sat in on the parleys with Herne. Long ago, when the two cities had been established over here on Earth, both courts had agreed with Cernunnos and Morgana to abide by the Covenant of the Wild Hunt. Through that agreement, the two queens had agreed to give a certain governance to Cernunnos, Morgana, and the Wild Hunt in order to minimize collateral damage. They weren’t allowed outright warfare, so all their machinations were covert. They had no choice, given Morgana was goddess of the Fae, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t push the boundaries as far as they could.
As we passed over the bridge heading toward Ginty’s, which was located halfway between TirNaNog and Navane, I stared out at the water. The elementals were out in force today. I could feel them even from within the car. They were playing in the Puget Sound, leaping and diving with the waves. To others they would appear just as an upsweep of water, a wave rolling across the surface, but I could see them from here, their glistening translucent bodies merging with the Sound. Part of me wanted to jump out of the car and dive over the edge, to swim out and play with them. It seemed far more appealing than going to Ginty’s for parley. But I managed to hold myself in check.
Twenty minutes later, as we approached the outskirts of Woodinville, I shook off the sleepiness that had crept over me. When I wasn’t the one driving, the swaying motion of the car made me want to curl up and take a nap. The rocking motion reminded me of a ship.
As we approached the end of Way Station Lane, a side road off Paradise Lake Road near Bear Creek, I flipped down the visor, checking my makeup in the mirror. Everything looked good, and my hair curled out from the ponytail to dangle down my back.
The parking lot was nearly full, which wasn’t surprising. Ginty’s was a popular attraction, especially for Cryptos seeking a drink among their own kind. While humans were accepted and allowed inside, the bar focused mainly on its not-so-human patrons.
Rustic on the outside, the wood stained a deep pecan, with bronze hardware, to outside eyes, Ginty’s was only one story high. Inside was a different matter. The Waystation had a stairway leading into another dimension where it housed people seeking sanctuary. No one could set foot beyond those limits without permission—not even the gods, with a few exceptions. Waystations and Sanctuary asylum seekers were sacred, sacrosanct, and off-limits to anybody except the proprietors who kept watch over them.
As I approached the door, a rush of warmth hit me. I could feel a storm on the horizon. The faint smell of ozone hung heavy in the air and it was hot and muggy. My clothes felt