Thorns of Fae

by S L Mason

  Before I can take to my feet, a powerful down sweep of my wings lifts me from the hard stone. Concentrating, I slow the beating of my wings and lower myself to the ground, stumbling with unsure feet.

  Smiling I remark, “I’ll have to work on the landings.”

  We all laugh. For a moment happiness fills me before the reality of all the world had lost slams down on me. The bodies of the fallen still float nearby, and neither Nick or Arty can enjoy this moment with me.

  I wave my hand, opening a portal to Jacques portico, nodding a farewell to Lavender and Cernunnos. Janice takes my hand and leads me through to the crowded space on the other side.

  The UnSeelie court falls to their knees in obedience as Janice steps back.

  The sea of multi-colored hair hides their allegiance. I breathe out magic, ripping the dye from them to reveal their true affiliation.

  “I want every human delivered to the forecourt, all in the dungeons to be freed and sworn allegiance from all of you. The Hallowed Hills are closed for all time from the human-covered surface. You have one human hour.” Without a look back, I turn and waltz into Jacques’s throne room, taking the seat.

  The walls wake back satisfaction, and I quirk a smile. They knew I’d win. Even though I could take this castle for my own, I won it fair and square. The thought of living here turns to ice in my belly.

  I’m only here for one reason—Arty.

  An hour could have been days, it drags on so long. Finally, I rise to survey the returnees. The forecourt is filled with humans, all enchanted and bedraggled.

  Thrusting out my hand, I open a portal to my home town and sing away the enchantment, watching as many weep and run through to the human world. The numbers dwindle, along with my hopes.

  A few linger, their blood laced with Fae and magic. “You are free to leave with the others or stay as you choose, but your choice is a final one.” As I listen to myself, I sound like someone else—an older, wiser version of me. Not the eighteen-year-old kid I’d been when I blasted my way back into Fae.

  One or two humans stay, leaving the forecourt with one Fae or another. The others leave together.

  Arty is nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is the human Jacques held named Arthur?” I demand of the seneschal.

  He shakes his head and waking back fear.

  I want to compel him, but that would make me no better than Deston or Jacques.

  Janice whispers in my ear, “Offer them a boon for Arthur’s safe return.”

  I nod and announce, “A boon of my choosing, for the safe return of Arthur, alive.” I allow my eyes to linger over the castle. “If one hair on his head is damaged, however, I’ll pull this castle down and leave only rubble behind.” My throat closes and I will a portal to Deston’s throne room.

  Fae loiter on the steps and lean against the walls as I step through none move.

  Janice clenches his jaw to bite down on his anger. “Bow for your Queen. This domain no longer answers to Deston. Only to Sarinah.” Janice’s proclamation sweeps over them like leaves blown from a tree. They fall, many crossing their fingers over their heart and bowing their heads.

  Opening my wings, I take up my full height to dominate the inhabitance.

  Same orders, different castle, until the members of the dungeon are marched out.

  There, filthy and sickly thin stands a hunched form with milky green eyes and brownish black hair. I can see the human still lining his features, but much about him has changed.

  I bite back the cry and the threat of a flood of tears.

  Ending the enchantment over the human chattel causes a new rush to leave via the open portal. I point the way home, only to see three men left behind. They stand shoulder to shoulder.

  I fear what I will say or do. Not wanting to look weak, I order. “Clear the room! leave only these two and my consort!”

  The Fae flee like a rush of water sliding down a mountainside. None fall or trip only the perfect motion of escape.

  Slamming doors, I close us off to the castle and the rest of the Fae world.

  I flash to their sides and wrap my arms around two bulky forms. Shuddering, I try to suck in air, but the lump in my throat blocks everything beyond my cries.

  With barely a whisper, I remark, “I thought you both were dead.” The walls weep with me. My hands curl around Arty’s neck and Nick’s. They both laugh and speak at once.

  “I didn’t die, I was never there. Neither of us was,” Nick’s matter of fact reply comes with a half-smile.

  Choking back my laugh, I pull them into another hug. I can’t let go. “But I saw you, you wilted away.” My eyes dart from Nick to Arty.

  Nick shakes his head and replies, “It was all an illusion. I never left the dungeon. Jacques and Deston bounced me back and forth like a ping pong ball. I met Arty when Jacques showed up and Deston wanted to kill one of us.”

  Covering my mouth with my hand, I press back my fears.

  Arty pulls his glasses out of his pocket to reveal a cracked lens. They sit crooked on his face. I didn’t care, I was so happy to see his dirt-stained face and shy smile I couldn’t stop hugging him.

  Sniffing, I wipe the moisture from my eyes.

  Arty smiles at Nick and shoves his shoulder into Nick’s, then jumps in, “Yeah, I set him straight about just being friends. But it took you long enough. I thought you’d never get us out.” Arty tilts his head to look down his nose at me, but it doesn’t work so well anymore. “Did you get taller? And what’s with the wings?” Arty pats the top of my head.

  I pull them both in for a hug.

  I don’t want to break the mood, but some things have to be done. “Nick, I’m sorry I… I killed your sister.” Taking a breath to steady myself. I continue, “I didn’t want to, but she wouldn’t let it go—she’d gone full-on cray, cray. She thought you were dead and I killed you. There’s nothing I can say to make it right.” I can’t meet his eyes, so I stare at the floor.

  The same floor I saw when Janice had first brought me to Fae and made me choose. Arty’s big meaty hand claps my shoulder, squeezing. Then, it slides across my back into a side hug.

  Nick steps away, sniffling, followed by a choking cry. I pull the locket from around my neck and offer it to him. Pulling out of Arty’s grasp, I wrap my arms around Nick’s shaking form. He weeps openly and sags into my embrace.

  With a shaking breath, he inquires, “Was it quick?”

  I whisper back, “Yes, she didn’t suffer. You were her last thought. She wanted to avenge your death.”

  He nods his head into my hair and shudders, then pulls back. “Keep it, I have my own.” He chokes on a new cry, then bites down on his knuckle before continuing. “We can both remember her.” He pulls on a leather strip to reveal the mirrored locket hanging at the end.

  Nick throws a glance at Arty, then back to me. Nick runs his fingers through his hair, moving it over his ears to reveal a point. I gasp and step back.

  “When did this happen?” I demand.

  Nick rubs the tears from his eyes, giving me a wan smile. “We weren’t actually in the bubble with you, but that doesn't mean we didn't experience it. I felt myself die. I watched Nikki stab me. When I woke up, I could feel the magic. Then some shirtless dude with black hair and yellow eyes shows up in my cell and tells me to choose Fae or humanity. I said as long as you were here, then so was I.” He pulls in a shuttering breath, “I saw Nikki, me dying didn’t drive her over the edge. Everything did.” He coughs, swallowing back new tears. “She was never going to win, I just wanted to take her home, but she was already gone. Nikki died with our parents on the surface. I just didn’t know it.” He chokes again.

  Janice clears his throat. All three of us turn to face him.

  “That guy, why’s that guy here?” Arty yells. “He’s the one that took us! I watched him drag you in the mud.” Arty points a finger at Janice and shoots me an open-mouthed scoff. “He Killed my parents!”

  “No, he didn’t kill your
parents, or mine. He saved me—you know after he took us. He’s… he’s my boyfriend umm, consort,” I reply tentatively with a weak laugh.

  Both Nick and Arty stare me down. Arty plunges in with abandon, “He’s your boyfriend? Really, you have a boyfriend? I was beginning to think you liked girls. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I don’t even want to know what a consort is. Wait is that short for gigolo?” Arty holds his hands up while his face turns beet red.

  Nick replies and shutters out a laugh. “As if you’re one to talk, Arthur.” For a second I couldn’t tell if he was going to start crying again or not.

  Janice cuts in, bristling, “I don’t see how Sarinah’s feeling toward me is any business of yours.”

  Nick releases a deep chuckle, only to be joined by Arty. It is contagious, and I begin to laugh too.

  Janice returns a sickly smile and a dry mirthless laugh, which only brings on a new round of coughing, gasping, and laughter.

  When we finally stop, I look to the portal, then back to the guys. “Do either of you want to go home?” I inquire.

  The smile on all our faces fades like last year’s tan. At the same time, Nick says no and Arty says yes.

  I knew the answers before I asked.

  Arty rushes on, “But I don’t want to go right away. I’m looking for someone, a woman, a Fae named Pil.” Arty smiles and dips his head, peering up at me over the top of his glasses.

  Nick shoves his shoulder. “Man, are you still going on about her?” Nick rolls his eyes and head to look at me. Then coughs back an emotion before it can take over.

  Arty replies, “Yes, she helped me. I would have lost it if it wasn’t for her… and you. Can’t a guy ask? Geez.” Arty crosses his arms, placing his hands under his biceps.

  I look from Nick to Arty and back. They both carry the same stance. I guess hard times make you closer. Shaking my head at them both, I reply, “I’ll ask for her.”

  Arty continues by changing the conversation. “So, what’s with the wings and horns? And how in the fuck do you sleep on those?” He pushes the crooked glasses back up his nose and the hair out of his eyes.

  My mouth drops open, turning me into a guppy. Nick claps his hands together.

  “Awe, Arty, I knew I liked you, man. Finally, someone who can make her shut up.” He tilts his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, then presses his hands together in prayer. “Thank God, Sarah shut up.” I smack him in his arm. He jumps back laughing.

  “For your information, I haven’t slept yet. I came looking for you.” I punch Arty’s shoulder. He rubs it. “Ouch, you got stronger. Look, I’ll stay the night, but I want to go back in the morning. If you find Pil will you let me know?” He tilts his head down to hide most of his face.

  I’d never known Arty to ask after any girl so I thrust my hand out. “It’s a deal.” We shake.

  “Now that all you children have found each other, I’ve come to collect my son and kiss my granddaughter.” My head whips around at the sound of Puca’s voice.

  Nick and I reply at once, “Son?”

  “Granddaughter?” Then we look at each other. In unison, “Puca’s your Dad/Grandfather?” Then, we turn and face Puca

  Puca sighs. “You each think you’re the only ones. I have been around a long time.” His canary yellow eyes twinkle with glee while he smacks Nick on the back.

  “Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I demand in an attempt to deflect my discomfort.

  Puca shrugs. “Why should I hide such perfection? Come, children, the Queen needs rest and a safe place to do that. My home will suffice until she decides what she wants to do.” He releases a belly laugh; not that he’d ever had a belly, more like a board attached to the place a belly should be.

  I grumble, “You’ll need to explain this one to me sometime. How many kids do you have?”

  Puca smiles a big toothy grin, then leans in and whispers, “One of the great parts of being the first- and one-time king: I don’t explain, anything, ever.” He chuckles and opens a portal.

  Janice takes my hand and leads me to Puca’s portal, allowing me to step through ahead of him. I catch Arty’s eye and he gives me a half smile and a thumbs up. His aura tells a different story— it’s dingy brown, only flashes of color come through. The truth is, when he asked after Pil, I saw him, really saw him. He’s in love.

  CHAPTER 29

  “And you’re sure you don’t know who and where Pil is?” Arty quietly demands.

  I sigh. “Arty, if I knew anything I would tell you.” I rub his arm.

  He ducks his head as if to nod, but really to hide his haunted eyes. It is tearing me up inside. Arty has lost everything. Now he is even going to lose me. With my power, I can stop him, but I’d never be able to live with myself. His desolation wakes out from him.

  When I step through the portal, the surreal feeling of Oz settles over me. All the houses in our old neighborhood sag with years of disrepair. The grass crisscrosses the road and walkways. Trees have grown up, cracking and breaking cement. The doors to most houses yawn as vacant openings, their windows empty of glass. Everywhere wakes of abandoned neglect.

  Tall grass brushes the underside of my arms as I pick my way over the dry bones scattered over the road, moving to the sidewalk. Humming Itsy Bitsy Spider, I move webs out of my path, not willing to disturb the creatures’ diligent work. I’ve learned a healthy respect for the miniature weavers of silk.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place? This looks like the end of the world came and went. Only we missed it,” Arty quips, then squeezes my hand.

  I know he’s trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. We both stop at the edge of my parents’ property line. My hesitation mirrors his— neither of us wants to cross the invisible line humanity drew dividing his land from mine. Somewhere in the next three feet lay Arty’s parents in their many parts. I can’t recall whether Arty’s dad was on the sidewalk or the grass but his head lay on the grassy parking strip. His mother had crumpled not far from his father’s remains. The ache starts at the base of my tongue, working its way down my throat. Dry heat steals over my eyes.

  “We can cross the street, we don’t need to walk here,” I entreat in soft tones for fear I might cry if I raise my voice even a bit.

  He sniffs. “No, whatever is here it isn’t them. They’re gone… for a long time, I guess.” His voice breaks on the last words.

  I squeeze his hand again as he turns into me. I wrap my arms around him as he shakes with grief.

  I swallow the lump back and push my own pain away. The grass wakes the outline of his parents’ skeletons. My Fae eyes pick out the leftovers of their bodies and it only reinforces, I can never stay here. While humming under my breath, the soil pulls back, allowing whatever remains of their bodies to sink into the ground. Arty need never find them or see them.

  Magic wakes out from us, blanketing the surrounding area for miles. The ground gapes open and swallows the remains of every body for miles. I didn’t want Arty to live seeing the death Fae had left behind in our wake.

  I’ll take care of the rest of the world later.

  Arty chokes out, “You didn’t have to hide them. I know they’re here, but thank you.” He pulls out of my embrace, his black hair hanging in his face and over his shoulders. I push a lock behind his ear to reveal the face I’d never thought to live without. We both swallow.

  “Do you want to see where Sorensen hid his secret room?” I inquire while cocking an eyebrow and throwing him a half smile.

  Arty rubs his palms into his eyes and coughs, then places his cracked spectacles on his nose. “Yeah, it’s all I’ve been thinking about since the shit hit the fan.” He gives me a half smile while rolling his eyes.

  Air moves over my shoulders as I try to hide my nervous excitement. Learning to control wings is not something I’d had on my bucket list.

  “Maybe you should fold those away. I think the horns growing from your head will scare them enough.” Arty waves his index finge
r at the gossamer wings on my back.

  Taking a deep breath, I concentrate on the muscles along my spine, relaxing them, then swing my arms in an arc. They fold down flat against my back. I smile in satisfaction. I can do this.

  We hurry down the street, ducking through the front door and making a beeline to the kitchen. I drag Arty behind me, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the room.

  “Want to take a guess?” I prod breathlessly.

  Arty huffs, strolling around the room. The back door is still in good order, the glass unbroken along with the windows to the kitchen.

  “This must be the only house around with a pane of glass left,” he remarks, opening the back door and allowing it to swing freely into the room. “It didn’t make a sound. Reminds me of the grate on your dad’s tunnel.” Arty ceases pacing by the cabinet. The glass doors hang limply from wood chunks. The handles lay at his feet on the floor, and he nudges one to the side.

  Though the glass on the floor gives the appearance of chaos, I know better.

  “This isn’t some Anne Frank thing, is it? Cause that would be dumb. Sorensen was smarter than that, wasn’t he?” Arty inquires, then throws his hands up and grabs the side of the china cabinet wrenching it away from the wall.

  “Are you fu—” Arty’s words die on his lips.

  The dark opening is filled by a single individual. A gray-haired man with a scraggly beard peers at us over the top of two barrels in the dark moonlight.

  “Don’t try any of your Fae tricks on me, they don’t work. I’m a live-and-let-live person. If you leave, I’ll let you live.” My father’s voice is cold and study. I don’t know what I was expecting. I knew he wouldn’t recognize me, but Arty, I’d been hopeful.

  “I’m not here to play Fae tricks, only to return this man to his family,” I reply. Arty and I agreed I would act as an unconcerned party. My dad didn’t need to know I was now the Queen of Fae, or to see how I’d changed.

  He swings the two black barrels my way, his watery blue eyes barely focusing on me through the heavy gray brows that ridge his forehead. Even with his face pressed to the sight, I can see how haggard he’s become with deep lines running from the hollow of his cheekbones down to the jowls hanging from his chin. His gnarled fingers play over the gun’s grip. The large shoulders I’d ridden upon as a child, always so strong, hung with muscles no longer locked around the bone.