The Dire King (Jackaby #4)(34)



Alina shook her head in disgust. “You have no right to define me. I am Om Caini. You know nothing of our history and nothing of our heritage.”

“Is it your heritage to pick on human beings every chance you get? Because I’m beginning to know a little something about that.”

“How dare you! My people chose peace. Humans broke that peace. Do your children not learn about that in human school? No, I suppose they teach you all lies about noble human heroes defeating a race of lowly dogs instead, do they?”

“Erm, neither?” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone besides Charlie who has ever even heard of the Om Caini. Well, Jackaby. But he knows about everything. Most of New Fiddleham thinks your brother is a werewolf. They’ve heard of those.”

Alina wrinkled up her nose. “Of course they have. Idioti. Still, better a werewolf than a human. At least wolves open their eyes.”

“Then open mine,” I said, as gently as I could. “I’d like to know. Really. How did humans break the peace?”

She regarded me dubiously. “How much do you know about the days before the veil?”

“Until a few months ago,” I admitted, “I was not aware there was a veil at all, let alone that there was a time before it. Please tell me.”

She shook her head. She still looked cynical, but a little less disgusted, in spite of my ignorance. “This is basic history,” she said. “Pups in our tribe know it before we know how to read. Millennia ago, when the veil was new, all of the noble races divided. Those who lived by magic were given the Annwyn. Those who lived by toil and earnest work were given the earth. Those who walked the line were given a choice. And so it came to be that the world was split in two.”

“Does that mean the Annwyn used to be physically connected to the earth?” I asked. “Like, another continent?”

Alina rolled her eyes. “More than connected. They were . . . ugh, you are too simple to understand. Here, I will show you the way we show the littlest whelps. Cross your eyes. Like this. You see two of me? Yes? Two trees? Two everything? You see the world split into two worlds. That is how the Annwyn was divided from the earth.”

“Oh,” I said. “I think I understand. They’re really the same physical space, only one side got all the magic bits and the other kept all the mortal bits.”

“Yes . . . but also not the same at all. Remember, this is how we explain it to the simple children. The details are . . . beyond you.”

I bit my lip diplomatically.

“After the divide, my people remained on earth. We trusted men, held dominion alongside men. We were loyal allies. Their quarrels had always been with the magi and the fair folk, not with those who walked the land by their side, and so our kingdoms were united, for a time. There was trade, there was sport, there was courtly respect—but humans are only ever satisfied to be victors.”

Her eyes grew cold again.

“My ancestors watched as our people were slaughtered during the first of the Breed Wars. They packed their things and fled from their ancestral homes, fled from their own kingdoms, but there was nowhere for them to run. In each new country they were met with greater hostility. We are nomads now. The Om Caini are strong. We have made a good life out of what we were given, but we have not forgotten our past. We have learned to be guarded. We have learned the worth of human promises.”

“Human beings can be horrible,” I conceded. “Monstrous. But there are good people, too, if you really look. People who make the world better. This city is full of . . . of doors opening. Charlie taught me to see that. I cannot take away what was done to your family, but please try to see what Charlie sees. He sees hope. He believes in this town. He has seen it at its very worst, but somehow he still believes. He sees a future for us here, together.” Something unexpected stirred inside me as I put that into words.

“You still don’t get it,” Alina said, pushing herself up from the roots of the willow. “This is not Charlie’s future! This isn’t some silly human story about star-crossed lovers! Kazimir cannot stay here. Charlie may not have a throne and a castle to come home to, but he is no less a king. You have no idea how much it grieves me to watch him, my brother, Suveran of my people, running errands for an arrogant human fool and his insignificant assistant. You selfish humans would have a noble king as your lowly servant? How can you let him lower himself to this? Does it make you feel powerful? Does it make you feel proud? Our people need my brother. Why won’t you let him come home?” And with that she stalked off hotly toward the house.

“Charlie chose this!” I yelled after her. “Nobody is keeping him against his will!”

“Because that would be unthinkable,” came Morwen’s muffled voice from the cellar.

“Oh, shut up.” I slid down against the tree.

“Give her time,” Jenny said, drifting slowly to my side. “She’s young, she’s headstrong, and she’s overwhelmed in a strange new world. Sound familiar?”

“I wasn’t so bullheaded when I got off the boat,” I said. “I was nice.”

“It sounds to me like that girl has spent her whole life being taught to keep her guard up. It’s not her fault. It will take more than one uncomfortable afternoon around the house to bring it down. Be patient. Charlie loves her, doesn’t he?”

William Ritter's Books