Goblin Fires, Chapter Three

The Courtyard Terrace is a nice restaurant on a scenic street corner across from Central Park: the perfect place for fae folk like Ceri and the Springtime Court to meet, naturally. Alan, driving the sleek town car, which is our usual conveyance while visiting New York, dropped us in front of the restaurant while he drove on to find parking. He would join us again shortly. Puca also came with us, of course, enjoying the pleasure of accompanying Ceri on her errands, even if they were simple afternoon luncheons with other envoys of the faerie nations. He'd traded his feline shape for a black dog—smaller, though, than he usually wore it, with a figure closer to a friendly Labrador than the normal hunting hound, to mitigate any reactions he might get from mortal onlookers. He had no leash, though. No one ever appeared to find it necessary to scold Ceridwen into leashing her dog.

Goblin Fires, Chapter Two

Like many Unbridled spirits of the fae world, The Morrigan—my mother—struck a bargain with the Four Sidhe Courts, to ensure her freedom from them and the certainty of her independence. It is not such a strange thing... but it might have been the thing that nearly destroyed us, in the end.

Mortals called The Morrigan a goddess of war, and there were, of course, reasons for her title. Whether or not she might actually be a deity hardly mattered; she is a creature of power and means, the rival of any High Sidhe in magic or in wiles. When the Fae Courts began to assemble and formalize a code of magical law and order, the Unbridled beings like my mother were assessed and considered heavily, as factors which could disrupt the forces the Fae Lords would seek to protect. So The Morrigan struck an alliance to codify her rights as a free agent, and simultaneously make a show of good will and treaty toward the Sidhe Kings and Queens. She offered her offspring as Knights and Champions for the High Noble Houses.

Goblin Fires: Chapter One

I never break an oath. I can't break an oath, not one made to the Sidhe. A Knight cannot lie, cannot betray, and cannot go foul of a promise made.

Except one. One promise alone are we ever allowed to recant. One contract we can reject...but I never had cause to reject it.

Until we found ourselves—all of us, all the fae of the Four Courts—pulled into a war.

Until the last option I had left, to save the woman I loved, was to break the oath I made to protect her...

The warm aroma of blended spices—nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, and a hint of black pepper—curled up in tendrils of steam from the simple blue mug on the table before me. I closed my palms around it, relishing the effusive heat like a nice hot bath, and inhaled the scent of Talaith's favorite chai tea with a soft sound of approval.

"Careful, sweetie," Tala whispered in my ear. She had a very eloquent, very refined accent, and she leaned over my shoulder to sprinkle a pinch of cocoa powder into my cup. "Don't want to burn your tongue now, do you? Not while I still have plans for it..."