nothing. Looking back toward her daughter, she replied, “We don’t get involved in the affairs of humans.”
“This concerns the Light Fae, too,” Carrick interjected. “Because you know if Kymaris conquers Earth, she’s coming after you and Faere. With the Blood Stone, she’ll shred the veil and lay your lands to waste.”
Something flickered in Nimeyah’s eyes—perhaps alarm—but she kept her jaw locked tight and her chin lifted. “We’ll take our chances. I still have tremendous stone magic of my own.”
Deandra snorts as she advances on her mother. “Do you know that it was your stone magic that allowed this to happen?”
Nimeyah jerked backward, her chin tucking inward. “How dare you?”
“Your son stole your staff with your stone, and he used it to rip open a tiny spot in our veil between Faere and the Underworld. There, he joined forces with Kymaris and funneled Light Fae magic into a human vessel that later propelled Kymaris into the Earth realm with strong powers. He’s colluding with her, and he knows she’ll come for Faere. Your own son has betrayed you, the throne, and your land. If you won’t help for any other reason, you should help to make things right.”
Carrick knew as soon as they were said that the words were wasted. Nimeyah may not be happy with her son’s treachery, but her lazy and unambitious rule wasn’t going to change.
Nimeyah made a circling motion with her wrist. From thin air, her staff appeared. Carrick had never seen it before, and it was a thing of simple beauty. Approximately five feet in height and made of solid gold, it had a round disk at the top that had a hollowed-out center. Within that space, a black meteor stone was held in place by delicate strands of gold filigree that wove all around the stone and attached to the disk.
Nimeyah swung her legs gracefully from her chaise, then stood with the staff at her side. Her husband followed suit, but his actions seemed robotic. Standing only because his wife did.
She gripped the staff tight. “I have all the power Faere needs right here. Kymaris will never make it through the protections I can place.”
“But what if she does?” Carrick asked softly. “You’re willing to risk your realm and all its inhabitants? You’re ready to risk the bulk of the Light Fae race?”
“I don’t see it as a risk,” Nimeyah replied dismissively. “Besides, I think Kymaris will be happy enough in the Earth realm that she won’t feel the need to come seek me out.”
“You’re a fool,” Deandra hissed at her mother. Nimeyah’s face flushed red, and her eyes glimmered with fury. But Deandra dismissed her, most likely knowing she was a lost cause, and turned to her father. “I’m curious what you think about this.”
Callidan flushed to be put in the spotlight. Carrick rarely saw the man talk unless it was to add something charming to something his wife already said. He was, for all intents and purposes, a trophy husband.
“I stand by your mother,” he finally stammered to Deandra.
“She’s the fool, and you’re a coward,” Deandra hissed, and Carrick felt a flush of pride go through him. Her gaze moved back to her mother, and she narrowed her eyes. “Or maybe it’s the other way around. You’re the coward, and Father is the fool.”
Her words were too provoking and an enraged Nimeyah picked up her staff and leveled it at her daughter. Carrick didn’t know exactly what her intent was, but he wouldn’t put it past Nimeyah to kill her own offspring because of a slight to her ego.
There wasn’t any waiting to find out. Carrick deftly stepped in front of Deandra, prepared to take whatever magic came out of the stone, but the minute he did so, Nimeyah lifted the staff.
She wasn’t a fool. She couldn’t destroy Carrick, and her attempt to do so would bring swift retribution from the demi-god.
Instead, she lasered her eyes on Deandra, who moved slightly to the side so she could see past Carrick’s wide shoulders. “You are banned from Faere, Deandra. Leave at once and don’t return.”
“Gladly,” Deandra snapped as she pivoted sharply on her foot to leave the solarium.
Carrick only took a moment more before following the princess. “You’re making a mistake, Nimeyah. You’ve spent eons in safety, and it’s made you soft. Your ego has grown, but your wisdom has not. I hope you think on this some and come to your senses.”
“You’re no longer welcome here either,” she snarled at Carrick, although there