Unexpected Ultimatum (Unplanned Princess Book 6) Read online

  “We’ll be fine, Grace.” Zaena smiled warmly. “Go and be with your family. I’ll call you if I need any more help.”

  Grace waved at Vokasin. “Have a good day.” She turned before tapping at her head. “Remember your comms gear.”

  Zaena reached up. Her cheeks heated. She’d forgotten about the headset and the attached transmitter. “It’s not suspicious, is it?”

  “Not overwhelmingly, no. You could always just say you were coordinating with contractors.” Grace grinned and walked away.

  Zaena opened the door to her apartment and gestured for Vokasin to enter. “Thank you for your assistance earlier. I believe you helped me save that man’s life.”

  Vokasin stepped inside. He didn’t take a seat, instead standing behind a chair and resting his hands on the back. “You would have survived. You were in no real danger.”

  “The firefighter wouldn’t have survived,” insisted Zaena. “That’s why you helped me, is it not? You understood the limitations I had in trying to rescue him.”

  “You care more for them than I do, but I see no reason not to aid you in saving lives. We’re allies, and it’s to my advantage to maintain a positive relationship with you.” The corners of his mouth twitched into a faint smile.

  “Their bravery doesn’t move you at all?” Zaena headed to the couch. She pulled off her headset and transmitter and tossed them down beside her. “It’s something I find myself thinking about more. There are no elves without magic. These humans accomplish so much without it, and it’s not like most are using the most advanced and expensive aspects of their technology. One has to admire that.”

  Vokasin’s expression shifted toward boredom. “As I said, you care for them more than I do. They are doing well with what they have, but I will only shed so many tears for a human who knows the risks and knowingly walks into danger. The man understood he might die.”

  “I know,” Zaena replied. “He still did his part. The last thing a firefighter wants is for someone to die in their place. He and the others saved everyone else.”

  The boredom shifted to irritation in Vokasin’s expression. “You can’t save them all or solve all their problems, Fourth Born, even with your power and artifacts. Once you attune to the nexus, you’ll be stronger, but still, one single elf among millions of humans? Billions if you consider this whole planet. Don’t let your royal heritage and mission convince you that you can be a hero to everyone.”

  Zaena resisted giving him a sharp rebuke. Instead, she took a careful breath to give her time to think. Vokasin meant well, even if his remarks cut deeper than she liked.

  “I know that, but it doesn’t mean I can’t help them on occasion,” she insisted. “Some have issues with my so-called vigilantism, but no one can question saving others in such a situation. I don’t see how it hurts when I’m not otherwise overwhelmed with duties.”

  “Is that so?” Vokasin walked in front of the chair and sat. “If you die, your mission dies with you. Did you consider that when you entered that building?”

  Zaena’s breathing stopped. She’d thought about it, but she hadn’t let it stop her. “Others could continue it. I’ve already gathered you and Lae’yul. As long as you recovered the Ruby of Tarilan, it’d be enough. Would you have me stop?”

  “You have only explained the ritual in the most general of terms,” Vokasin noted.

  “Oh.” Zaena sighed. “That’s true. I suppose I should remedy that.”

  Her father hadn’t given her any orders that suggested she couldn’t do that. He also wasn’t there to stop her.

  “Freedom means accepting consequences as well as choices,” Vokasin replied in a wry tone. “Even royalty deserve freedom, but I’m not speaking completely of elven matters. I was content to live out my days without worrying about the Creeping Azure’s eventual conquering of our people, but that isn’t important for this conversation. You should think about how your excessive attention to the humans might harm them.”

  Zaena frowned. “How could helping them harm them?”

  “If the city becomes too reliant on the idea that the Crimson Wind is going to save people, they won’t do enough to be ready themselves,” Vokasin explained. “They shouldn’t have needed you to solve their crime problem.”

  “That’s not fair,” Zaena insisted. “An elf was behind their trouble. All I did was return the situation to a more natural state.”

  “The Mountain Elf was behind some of their problems, not all.”

  “Mark Wong was responsible for much of it.” Zaena folded her arms. “I understand and appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s not as if I’m doing daily patrols in the most dangerous parts of the Bay Area. I do enough to help spread hope and also bolster positive public relations.” She pointed at him. “Do remember that’s what follows when my main mission is complete. Humans will eventually learn about elves, and the more we can do to give them a positive impression, the better.”

  “That’s an argument.” Vokasin didn’t sound convinced. “I won’t be telling them where my enclave is this century.”

  Zaena snapped her fingers. The idea had descended like lightning, and now she had to get it out.

  “You!” she offered.

  “Me?” Vokasin raised an eyebrow.

  “Whether any tribe shares the location of their enclave or not is their own choice,” Zaena continued, “but once a single tribe comes forward, the humans will learn about the others. This means it’s to the advantage of representatives of all tribes to contribute to the PR campaign.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “Help with patrols,” Zaena suggested. “On occasion. I don’t know if we’ll complete our mission soon, but our recent momentum does point to something occurring far sooner than anyone could have anticipated before I left the kingdom.”

  Vokasin chuckled. “I won’t be helping you with your patrols. I didn’t come to San Francisco to be a hero for humans. I’ll continue to help you when it amuses me, but nothing more.”

  “Come now,” Zaena replied, disappointment in her voice. “I can understand that you don’t want to help humans, but I refuse to believe you don’t care about the future of our people.”

  “I’m not saying I don’t care, but I’m also saying some things are more important than life itself.” Vokasin kept a smile on his face. “I agreed to help you because you seem to be a truly selfless woman interested in helping others, both elf and human.”

  “Even though you don’t care about humans?”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Vokasin replied. “Your nature is only important insofar as it informs your motivations. I established that you’re not merely interested in your family retaking control of elves. It means helping you won’t risk my freedom or that of my kinsmen.”

  “What if I’d intended to help the other elves but conquer them later?” Zaena asked, now curious about her ally’s thoughts.

  “I don’t know.” Vokasin’s cold gaze unnerved her. There was a stern finality to his tone and expression. “I suppose I would have helped you and then killed you.”

  “Thank you for your honesty.”

  Zaena wasn’t disturbed by the threat. His forthright response only made her trust him more. He’d had plenty of chances to ambush her when her guard was down, and he’d not taken any of them.

  It also wasn’t lost on her that he had not killed any humans during his little UFO test game. For a man who often spoke contemptuously of humans, he continued to show great restraint around them, even when provoked.

  She’d wondered after their initial meeting if he’d been more concerned about stopping the werewolf because it could lead humans potentially to the Desert Elves or if it’d been about protecting innocent people. Evidence had accumulated for the latter.

  “With all that in mind,” Zaena continued, “are you still going to attend my meeting with Lae’yul in a few days?”

  Vokasin agreed, “We should continue to be aware of what we’re all doing, so there are no surprises if one of us runs into a Mountain or Ice Elf.” He stood. “I think that’s enough for today. There’s no reason to spend more time talking when we’ll be speaking again soon.” He headed toward the door.

  “That was a short meeting,” Zaena noted.

  Vokasin stopped in front of the door. “I wanted to ensure you hadn’t injured yourself during your rescue. I’d suggest you save your strength until your restaurant is open, at least.”

  He headed out and slammed the door behind him. The disapproval in his voice felt inconsistent when measured against much of what he said. She couldn’t hate him for worrying about her, despite his gruff way of demonstrating it.

  Zaena lay her head back on her couch. The restaurant opening was more stressful for Tony, Karl, and Grace. Supplying money when asked was easy. She didn’t have to worry about any practical matters, whether they were supply chains or hiring.

  Things had been calm since the soul-binding and UFO incidents, other than the occasional patrol. The fire rescue had been the most high-profile incident in the last two months.

  Her gaze dipped. The powerful pull of the nexus was always there, warming her and never letting her forget. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t worth trying to attune herself to it until she had enough help. Was she making a mistake? She couldn’t be sure.

  “Perhaps, Mr. Wong,” she commented, “you did me a favor by burying the whole place and freeing me from the immediate decision.”

  The invocation of his name and actions reminded her of his end. His crushed body remained in the rubble. There couldn’t be much left, given the massive weight of the material, but people like Amanda Morton were obsessed with gathering elf samples for their research.

  Zaena wasn’t naïve enough to believe the Amer
ican government didn’t want samples. Mark Wong had received the justice he deserved, but that didn’t mean she was prepared to let his remains be used in strange experiments by humans.

  She’d need to recover them and preserve them until she could hand them over to his people. It was unfortunate the only Mountain Elf she’d encountered since then had managed to be worse than Wong.

  “Is your entire tribe insane?” Zaena complained.

  Her phone chimed with a message from Grace.

  Check out this news article. They’re already talking about your save.

  There were so many things to balance. At least PR didn’t require superpowers.

  Chapter Six

  Helga held her gloved hand in front of her and spread out her fingers. The glove did little to block the constant stream of white snowflakes coating her goggles. The roaring wind added fresh snow all around. Her tracks were covered within minutes.

  “I should have known,” she muttered.

  Encountering not one but four Huldufólk had been a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, or, arguably, a once-in-many-lifetimes occurrence. Surviving their battle had been even luckier. Now it felt like the glacier was taking its revenge and making sure she understood her luck had run out.

  Her steady march had been a desperate plan from the beginning, but at least when she started, there’d been clear skies. As the minutes dragged on, dark clouds had filled the heavens, then the storm had begun in earnest.

  It was ridiculous. Helga had survived supernatural terror, only for nature to launch a final surprise attack.

  She threw her head back and laughed. Life was absurd, and so was death.

  Was she even walking in the right direction? She wanted to believe she was and that if she kept putting one foot in front of another, she’d make it to the village. That was more a hope than a plan. With the storm covering her tracks and the flurries making it hard to see more than a couple of meters in front of her, she wasn’t sure she hadn’t turned around. She could have been walking in circles for the last hour.

  This could be how the Huldufólk stayed concealed. Nature might conspire to kill any human who laid eyes on their true form.

  Helga trudged through the snow. She’d spent much of the last hour wishing she couldn’t feel the cold, but now she had her wish. Her entire body was numb. She didn’t have much time before it overwhelmed her.

  At least someone would find her body, unlike Aron and Magnus, whose bodies were in hell for all she knew.

  Helga started whistling an old lullaby from her childhood. Her grandmother loved the song, but Helga had never thought much about the lyrics.

  They were dark, frightening words about the ghosts of children. Her country was haunted and touched by a magic most thought lost. Her experience proved it.

  Helga stopped and looked up. Another soft laugh escaped her mouth. No, it wasn’t just her country haunted by magic.

  Anyone reading the news knew about the Crimson Wind. She made more sense now.

  Helga had not worried about an American vigilante cleaning up one of their crime-ridden cities. Like others, she’d believed what she heard on the news—that the Crimson Wind was an American billionaire with delusions of being a warrior.

  She was powerful and had many abilities: flight, strength, invisibility. Were those products of technology?

  No. It was magic. The Huldufólk didn’t just live in Iceland. They must live all over, and they were returning.

  Helga fell to her knees. It was too hard to walk now without any feeling in her body.

  She was going to die, but she had no regrets. Her life had been good and honest, filled with the warmth of family and friends. She’d done her small part to leave her country a better place. In the end, that was all anyone could do.

  Helga squinted. Something was wrong with the snow. It was falling and disappearing right in front of her as if it were the victim of an invisible hole.

  The hole wavered and became a Huldufólk. Helga gasped.

  She’d not been close enough to make out the fine details before. Now that she was, she understood she wasn’t looking at a birdman or birdwoman, but someone in a feathered costume and mask. The baggy costume covered most of the details of the body underneath.

  Was that the secret of their hidden nature? Had they always been among humanity in disguise? The Crimson Wind wore armor. If Helga’s theory about her true nature was right, that might explain it.

  “Do you want to die?” the Huldufólk asked. It was the voice Helga had heard earlier, speaking Icelandic words with an accent.

  Helga looked penitent. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to trespass.”

  “They didn’t die because of that,” the being replied.

  “Why did they die then?”

  “They died because of a mistake. You humans got caught up in something by chance.” She cocked her head to the side. “No, that’s too much. Misfortune, but not pure chance. I was seeking someone, and I should have thought better of it.”

  “It’s true, then.” Helga lifted her goggles. “You are Huldufólk.”

  The woman nodded. “Some have called us that. It’s not what we call ourselves.” She rattled off a word in a strange language. “That’s our name.”

  Helga stared at the bird-masked woman, her mind awash with questions. Her heart pounded with the excitement of the encounter, but that didn’t push the numbness out of her limbs.

  “Why did you save me?” Helga asked.

  “You have shown your respect in the past,” the woman. “To my kind and to the land. My people have long since lost this planet, so humans who respect it must be rewarded.”

  “Can I see your true face?” Helga asked.

  “No. You have no reason for that.”

  “Am I going to die now?”

  The being said, “If I intended for you to die, I would have killed you there.”

  Helga tried to stand, but her legs failed her. “I won’t make it. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know how far I am from the village. A kilometer? Five?”

  “You’re closer than you think.” The Huldufólk crouched in front of Helga and leaned forward until the mask beak almost touched her face. “I could make sure you survive.”

  “You already spared me.”

  “Sparing you is different than saving you. One is active. The other is not.”

  Helga sighed. “Please. You’re powerful. I’ve seen it. You control the ice and snow.”

  All her resignation had left her. There was hope in the form of the strange mystical creature crouched in front of her.

  “You’ve seen too much,” the Huldufólk explained. She stood. “If you return and tell of what you’ve seen, more humans will come. There will be trouble. There will always be more humans than my kind.”

  “I swear I won’t tell anyone,” Helga promised. She tried to clasp her hands together, but the stiffness of her cold fingers and the bulkiness of the gloves made it pointless. “I’ll honor you every day, but I won’t tell anyone why.”

  The Huldufólk held up a small flower petal. Helga hadn’t even seen where she pulled from.

  “What is this?” Helga asked.

  “You will sleep, and I will save you,” the Huldufólk replied. She pressed the petal into Helga’s hand. “You will sleep and tell no one you’ve seen me. If you break your oath not to tell, you and all your descendants will be cursed.”

  Helga managed to close her fingers around the petal. The idea of an eternal curse frightened her far less than her than the imminent threat of freezing to death on the glacier.

  “I swear to everything important in my past and future, I won’t speak of you to other humans.”

  “Even if your life is threatened?”

  “You’re saving my life,” Helga replied. “It’s yours now. Not mine.”

  “Swallow the petal,” the Huldufólk ordered. “Respect should always be rewarded. I know you speak the truth because you’ve shown respect not only now but also in the past and throughout your life. Betray your oaths, and you will be punished.”

  Helga swallowed. The petal didn’t have a strong flavor. She blinked. Her eyelids were heavy. The petal or the weather?

  She fell forward, her head in the snow. Death might be coming.

  “Sleep now,” offered the woman. “May you wake to something far more pleasant.”