She's No Faerie Princess by Christine Warren

Author:Christine Warren [Warren, Christine]
Format: epub
Tags: Demonoid Upload 2
ISBN: 9780312347765
Publisher: Lisa's E-Book Collection
Published: 2006-10-30T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Fiona laughed when she saw it.

The gift had probably been meant to hang in front of a

large window where light could shine through the myriad

panes of colored glass and cast bright, vibrant pools of

color around the room. Thank the stars the Others had

been too smart for that. Instead, the two-by-three-foot

piece hung inside a wooden cabinet in a smal study on

the second floor of Vircolac like some kind of guilty

secret. The gilt frame around the monstrosity could easily

have dated back to the days of the human king Louis

XIV, but Fiona would have dated its origins to the Early

Bad Taste period.

The edges of the glass disappeared into a rectangular

wooden frame so ornately decorated, she almost

expected it to tear the huge armoire down with its weight.

Trailing vines twisted and clung, sprouting berries here

and there like a hideous example of plant food gone

wrong. Winged cherubs beamed maniacally down from

each of the four corners, pudgy arms pul ing back on

intricately decorated bows. Their arrows pointed straight

at anyone foolish enough to stand in front of the blinding

gilded abomination. But worse than any of the sins of the

frame was the image it surrounded.

Some evil artistic antigenius had used the same medium

as the glorious rose window at Chartres to depict the

stomach-churning image of Shakespearean fairies in

midfrolic. Little winged creatures with faces like trolls and

limbs like toothpicks gamboled around the edges of what

looked like it was supposed to be a sylvan glade. A

deformed and violently blue stream flowed across the

foreground, and at the center of the scene a hideously

blond fairy in a crown and a toga stood surrounded by the

glowing nimbus usually reserved for human saints.

"Damn. One of you must have real y pissed her off."

"Yeah, we figured that out." Tess guided Fiona until she

stood right in the path of those little golden arrows about

three feet from the surface of the blindingly bad artwork.

"Actually, it reminds me that I wanted to ask you when

Mab's birthday is. I have this lovely macramé toilet paper

cover I think she'd just adore."

"There is a little charm she told us to use to make the

glass active," Rafe said. He and the others stood against

the inner wall of the study, well out of sight—or maybe

firing range—of the magical device. "I didn't think you'd

need it. You've probably done this sort of thing before,

right?"

"I think I can figure it out."

Fiona took a deep breath, focused her attention on the

glass, and gritted her teeth. Not because of any nerves

about her ability to communicate through her aunt's gift to

the Others, but because when Mab answered her cal ,

she'd probably end up wishing she'd stopped along the

way and picked up a ful -body suit of Kevlar. Or maybe

asbestos.

There had to be a museum in this city with a nice little set

of steel-plate armor, right?

She twitched a little when Walker appeared just behind

her and laid his large, warm hands on her shoulders.

"Need a little energy boost?" His breath tickled her ear

and the solid, steady presence of him relaxed her enough

that she could feel her muscles softening. That was good.

It would help her absorb the impact of the coming blows.

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