“I would if I could, Kitty.” He patted me on the arm, and stepping back, he nodded toward the target. “Now try it again.”

Over and over I practiced with the rapier, first with the target and then moving in slow motion in duels against Lex and Tybalt. Although I knew if I was stuck in a situation with the weapon as my only defense I would more than likely end up dead, it was still somewhat comforting to have a little more practice and knowledge than I had before. By the time we finished, just about every muscle in my body had begun to protest, and I was glad to finally replace the weapon in the scabbard at my belt. The rapier was longer and thinner than my short sword, and its weight felt unfamiliar, but my dagger was sheathed in its usual place on the belt and that gave me a measure of comfort. I was dressed and ready for battle: blue jeans, combat boots and top hat. The only new development had been a loose, long-sleeved white shirt. Made from a tough fabric, it was warm, slightly scratchy, and had a thin cord that laced up the cuffs and neck of the shirt. I felt like a reject from the Renaissance faire, but the faeries had assured me my outfit was fine.

“You look tired,” Lex commented. Tybalt wandered off, intent on some mysterious business of his own, leaving Lex and me alone.

“I am tired. Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m used to this sort of workout.” He smiled, and I nodded.

“True. I’ll probably have to get used to it if I’m going to be Titania. Did Maureen have to put up with this sort of thing?” I couldn’t picture the matronly old woman with sword in hand, fending off a group of evil ne’er-do-wells.

“Maureen was more of a shillelagh sort of girl. I watched her club a few uppity goblins in the head with that stick of hers.” Lex laughed at the memory. “She was quite a woman. I’ll miss her company.”

“I still can’t believe she didn’t name an heir.”

“She couldn’t. Her husband wasn’t a magician, and he forbade her from teachin’ magic to their children. Even after he died she kept the secret to herself, though she had plenty of grandchildren she could’ve trained.”

The idea was shocking to me, but sadly it was not unheard of. How awful, so much talent wasted… Rubbing at a sore spot between my shoulder blades, I winced in pain. “I think I’m going to soak for an hour or two.”

“Need someone to wash your back?” Lex asked, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

“You’d only help in making me dirtier instead of cleaner.”

“And you’d enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I would, but you’re still not invited,” I insisted. I needed some time alone to think.

Though clearly disappointed, Lex still saw fit to give me a parting kiss that left me breathless. I nearly changed my mind about his offer and dragged him back to my room, but I managed to stick to my guns. Set in my resolve, I felt steadier by the time I closed the door of my room behind me. Stripping off my clothes and equipment, I shivered in the cold of the room, hugging my arms to my chest as I prepared the bath. There are many advantages to living in a faerie castle, because it’s made of magic like everything else in Faerie. When I entered, it had been a simple bedroom, but with the few words of a spell and a bit of effort I conjured up a fireplace complete with cheerily crackling fire where a bare stretch of wall had previously been. Near the fire I chose a patch of floor and created an enormous marble bathtub the size of a Jacuzzi, filled with bubbles and steaming water.

It’s good to be a witch. Well, it’s good to be a witch, better to have faerie cousins with their own enchanted castle.

I climbed in, my aching muscles instantly soothed by the water’s warmth. Pippin, the more adventurous (and probably less intelligent) of my two cats, hopped up on the narrow edge of the tub and batted excitedly at a foamy white pile of bubbles.

“If you fall in, I’m not rescuing you,” I warned him. True to form he ignored me and continued to reach for trouble. Closing my eyes, I decided to ignore him back and concentrate on my biggest problem, the last test. And Lex. No, Lex was not a problem, Lex was something else. We’d work that one out later.

I was fairly certain I had passed the first trial. It sounded as though Dorian had foolishly attacked his dragon. I’d worked with mine, and I felt that had been the right choice, or at least I was sure that attacking it would have been the wrong choice. Sure I wasn’t an expert on dragons, but I’d known enough of the facts to trust that it wouldn’t hurt me, and it hadn’t. As the liaison between the human world and Faerie, it would be important to be able to solve problems with strategy and not just nuke the scary things on sight.

The second test had gauged my ability and willingness to judge the guilty and decide their fate. I had the impression that the Council wanted to test my willingness to make the hard decisions. Witches heal, we don’t harm. We encourage life, not death, and a Titania can’t be that softhearted. Of course, as an outcast witch, I didn’t have to struggle as much with that particular moral dilemma, which was reflected in my decisions. I didn’t feel bad about killing the imp-in fact, with the loss of Mac gnawing away at my subconscious, I almost wished I could’ve killed the little bastard more than once.

Lex was still a bit annoyed at me for not killing the shifter, but he’d get over it. I just wanted to know why Lex had been there in the first place. Would he be along for the ride with the last test? If he was, what did that mean? What would the Council ask of me next? There were so many options, countless possibilities. I couldn’t prepare for all of them. Hell, I couldn’t prepare for even one or two. All I would end up doing would be to make myself sick worrying over what-ifs. Everyone around me trusted that I would make a good Titania. I needed to trust myself.

Which left me with only one problem to deal with: my father. I’d sworn to make him pay for what he’d done to my mother, and now I was oathbound to do so, and by the gods I meant to. Dorian Morrow deserved death. A painful, tortuous death. To abandon your wife and child in the pursuit of empty power was one thing, but having your wife killed so she would no longer “annoy” you with her demands of love, attention and child support was another matter entirely. I knew, I’d always known, that if I’d been home that night I would’ve been killed as well. The only reason I was alive was thanks to the fact that I’d been at a slumber party with some friends from school.

Tough enough for a kid to deal with the fact that Daddy didn’t want her anymore, but knowing Daddy didn’t even want you breathing was worse. They would’ve come back to kill me, I’m sure, if Maureen hadn’t shown up and taken me away. I would’ve ended up in the foster care system if Maureen hadn’t pulled a few strings and found a witch to look after me. My life would have been so different if she hadn’t been Titania, and the vampires had murdered her as heartlessly as they had my mother. For their pursuit of empty, selfish, dark power.

Dorian Morrow deserved to die. The question was, could I kill him? Could I decide his fate as readily as he had decided mine and my mother’s? Would avenging her death make me a monster like him? Or was it justice, a fitting end?

Before I could ponder the topic any further my door opened, and I opened my eyes as Lex stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “Hey, I thought I told you that you weren’t invited,” I commented, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry, sugar, ’fraid I have to interrupt. On business.” Though his intention was business he was definitely distracted by the sight of me in the tub. I couldn’t blame him, because I was just as distracted by his presence in the room.

“Not good, is it?”

“No.” Crossing the room, he sat on the edge of the tub.

“Exactly when will it be time for good news?”