Next, she turned to stare down at Lily. Sebastian watched them out of the corner of his eye, every part of him on edge. After several tense moments, the fae queen spoke, voice as cool as ever. “Your presence is no longer required. My messenger will take you back to your realm. Leave us.”
The silver fox appeared out of nowhere, its glow casting silver light on Lily’s confused face as she stood. She’d taken several steps backward before realizing he wasn’t following her. “Come on, Sebastian. She said we could go.”
“Qem’nathir has his own duty to fulfill. Go.” The command in Thiriel’s voice was unmistakable.
Sebastian’s heart sank, despair threatening his carefully constructed façade of confident nonchalance. Usually, in a situation like this, he could charm his way out. That wouldn’t be happening this time.
Eyes to the side, he could see Lily hesitating, foot shifting as if to turn and leave. Knowing what was coming yet dreading the cold reality of it, he closed his eyes, unable to watch his best friend—his only friend—leave him.
“No.”
The quiet word echoed around the chamber, causing a shocked hush to fall over the assembled fae.
Sebastian’s eyes flew open and his head came up. He couldn’t believe his ears. Had she just said no to a queen of the fae? To her face? He tried to quash the tiny spark of hope that blossomed in his chest, even opening his mouth to tell her to go and leave him to his fate. It was the right thing to do. But no sound came out.
Thiriel, who had half turned away, slowly turned back. “What did you say, human?” The words sliced through the air like scything blades.
“I said n—no,” Lily repeated, voice catching, but then growing stronger. “I’m not leaving without him. If you have something to say, you can say it to both of us.”
Being a fae, Thiriel did not show anger, frustration, or contempt. The only perceptible change was that her voice went from cold to arctic. “Beware, human. I have shown great forbearance in allowing you to leave my domain, having seen what you’ve seen, unchanged and unharmed. I could just as easily banish you into nothingness, or lock you in my dungeons for the rest of eternity.”
“But you won’t, because you promised us safe passage at the time of our choosing.”
Thiriel smiled thinly, a terrifying sight. “Safe is such a vague word, is it not? And to choose anything at all, you would have to remember that you wanted to…” she let the sentence dangle, pale eyes fixed on Lily.
Sebastian held his breath. He hoped Thiriel was just playing mind games, trying to intimidate Lily into leaving. He’d seen the queen carry out her threats before, and it had not been a pretty sight.
Lips pursed, Lily did not back down, though Sebastian could see that her hands were trembling. Perhaps she thought she was safe because of how strong her magic was here. Or perhaps she was just insane. “I am honored by your majesty’s kindness and do not wish to impose on your hospitality. But I am not leaving without my friend.”
Well, at least she was smart enough to be polite. Even so, this was not going well. Sebastian tensed, preparing to jump to her defense if need be, even if he paid dearly for it.
Before he could act, however, Thiriel raised her hand, sending forth blackness from the shadows around her to engulf Lily. Yet instead of swallowing her up, the shadows split, cascading around her like a waterfall. They were deflected by a shining, pale bubble that gleamed wherever the shadows touched it.
Thiriel lowered her hand, visibly astonished, which was a first. Sebastian had never seen her so much as bat an eyelid before. He had to hold back a startled chuckle. Normal spells were no match against a fae queen’s might. But Lily had that ward bracelet, the one he suspected had been infused with angelic power by the same being who’d inflicted Sir Kipling’s sarcastic opinion on them all.
“Malaaku. Sithqa a’malaaku.” A rustle of whispers broke out among the encircled fae, a sign of extreme excitement for a race that was generally as expressive as a brick wall. His grasp of the fae tongue had gotten a bit rusty over the years he’d been away, but it sounded like Thiriel’s court had come to the same conclusion about the source of Lily’s power that he had. What puzzled him was the violence of their reaction.
“What is this wizardry?” Thiriel demanded, voice sharp as if to cut off the mutterings of her subjects. She reached forward with her physical hand this time, but it, too, was halted by the glowing barrier. Lily looked momentarily shocked herself, but then resumed her defiant stance.
As soon as it was clear she could not get past the light surrounding Lily, Thiriel stopped trying. Her composure regained, she loomed threateningly, examining the wizard with inscrutable eyes that stared down at her like pale lamps of impending doom.
After a long moment during which Lily still did not back down, Thiriel spoke a sharp command. “Yul’ea!” The fae queen spun, shadows billowing around her like a cloak as she stalked away.
Sebastian rose, disbelieving, and watched as the circle of fae around them dispersed. Lily had just had a showdown with a fae queen, and won.
“What did she say?” Lily whispered, eyes darting back and forth between the departing fae.
“She said to come with her,” he said, feeling dazed, giddy, and terrified all at the same time. Possibilities whirled through his mind, better than what he’d been expecting five minutes ago, but still with serious drawbacks.
They followed the fae queen through a massive arched doorway and down a series of stone passages which Sebastian knew led to Thiriel’s private audience chamber. The room, when they entered it, was just as Sebastian remembered, albeit with a few new roots here and there. It was spacious, with a stone floor covered in places by beds of soft moss. A small stream of water trickled down one wall, cascading over cleverly formed terraces and feeding into a worn trough that guided its flow along the edge of the room and into a corner where it disappeared into a hole. Like all the rest of Thiriel’s domain, the only illumination was the natural glow of the surrounding plants, which, now that their eyes had adjusted, provided more than enough light.
“Sit,” Thiriel said shortly, waving a hand at the middle of the room. At her gesture, the floor surged and rose, forming two stone seats covered in moss. She turned away from them, moving to the cascade of water where several cups sat on a ledge.
“I thought you said she was the queen of decay. How can she manipulate stone?” Lily whispered at him as they sat.
Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend, ever the scholar, even in the middle of all this. “The fae kings and queens have power over everything within their domain. Stone, earth, water, these are aspects of decay.”
“But water and earth make things grow,” Lily pointed out.
“But they also break things down,” he countered. “Everything has two sides to it, and both must work together to maintain balance.”
Thiriel returned, cutting short his lesson on fae ecology. She handed them each a stone goblet filled to the brim with cool, clear water. Lily looked for his nod of assent before putting it to her lips. Sebastian drank from his own cup, feeling the water’s refreshing influence spread from his crown to his toes. The water wasn’t exactly magical, just cleaner than any water had been on earth for a very, very long time.
Before sitting down, Thiriel made a shrugging motion as if taking off a cloak. The swirl of darkness that had been her mantel pooled down over her arms and hands, sinking into the floor and out of sight. Its absence revealed her full raiment: an elaborate gown of sleek grey cloth—probably woven from spider silk—that shimmered iridescent in the luminescent glow. Thousands of tiny black opals were woven into its length in intricate designs, catching and refracting the light as they flowed down her form, following the contours of her body. Black opals glinted at her wrists and neck, and on her head was a crown of pure obsidian. Nothing that she wore looked carved or cut, but rather organically shaped from the elements of the earth.
It was an outfit meant to impress and beguile, and it c
ertainly achieved its goal. Sebastian struggled to tear his eyes away, though it was a bit easier once he noticed Lily’s scowl. Averting his gaze, he instead watched Sir Kipling carefully nose about the room, taking experimental nibbles of various plants and rejecting each, one by one, with a betrayed look of disgust.
“Alright,” Lily ventured into the oppressive silence. “What’s going on? What do you want? Um, Your Majesty,” she added belatedly. Though she shifted under Thiriel’s stare, she did not back down.
Do you wish to enumerate your misdeeds, Sebastian, or shall I? Or, if you prefer, simply convince her to leave. I swear to you she will come to no harm. It will make all of this much easier.
It had started again. The manipulation. The whispers in his head. The problem wasn’t that Thiriel had ever forced him to do anything. The problem was that he usually agreed with her. She spoke to the survivor in him, the person he was but didn’t want to be.
No one knew the full story of his past, and here was a chance to share the burden. Yet it was the last person in the world he wanted knowing his mistakes. He already knew he wasn’t good enough for her, but did she know it yet? What would she do once she realized how irrevocably broken he was? How tainted? How enmeshed in a web of indenture he might never be rid of?
Sebastian looked around the stone room, realizing there was nowhere left to go, no more excuses to make. Lily was not in any danger, so he could send her away with a clear conscience. Well, except for the tiny problem of Mr. Fancypants and his evil schemes for gaining power. But she had Hawkins and Sir Kipling to help her. Did she even need him? Maybe it was best to go back to the way things were. He’d been breaking his cardinal rule of survival for years now, letting himself grow attached to this intelligent, exasperating, beautiful, snobby wizard. Attachments were dangerous. They left you vulnerable and messed with your brain. You made stupid, illogical decisions when you were attached. When you loved someone.
“Sebastian?”
He winced at the sound of Lily’s voice. Reluctantly meeting her eyes, he could see the confusion and hurt in them, but also determination. He wanted so badly to tell her everything, even what he felt inside. But one look at the worry lines on her face and the bags under her eyes told him she had enough to deal with already. He wanted her to be safe and happy, and by his side was a distinctly un-safe and un-happy place to be. It was better to break her trust now than risk hurting her even worse down the road.
Sebastian dropped his gaze, insides twisting themselves into guilty knots. But instead of getting to stare at his feet, a Sir Kipling-size mass of fur entered his vision. The cat had jumped up into his lap and was glaring at him. When he tried to look away, the cat dug in his claws.
“Ow!” Sebastian tried to pry him off his lap, but the feline was determined.
“Are you a two-faced coward?” Sir Kipling demanded.
“Of course not,” Sebastian replied, but the words were automatic, a knee-jerk reaction. The cat’s accusation had come uncomfortably close to the mark, as if he knew exactly what Sebastian was thinking. Sebastian flushed, scowling at the brazen feline whose yellow eyes stared unblinkingly at him without give or mercy.
“Then stop acting like one,” the cat said matter-of-factly. Without further ado, he jumped down and sauntered over to the queen’s chair. There he delicately sniffed the edge of her gown that was pooled in shimmering folds on the floor. It must have passed his test, because he sat on it, tail curled around his paws and yellow eyes still staring accusingly. Thiriel seemed to find his antics fascinating, peering down at him with the slightest of smiles on her face. Then she returned her gaze to Sebastian.
Now everyone in the room was staring at him. Well, everyone but Pip, who was safely ensconced in her pocket cave, busy listening to every embarrassing word.
Sebastian shivered, hunched over in his chair. Was he going to be a man at the expense of Lily’s safety? Or a coward at the expense of her respect? He’d already asked her to trust him, promised he wouldn’t let her down. But what was more important, respecting her or keeping her alive? Or was he fooling himself, pretending to be oh-so-noble in his silence when really he was just terrified she would leave him if she knew the truth?
Questions, fears, and doubts chased themselves around inside his head until he was dizzy with them. Even as he begged his mouth to move, to say something, it stayed frozen shut.
“Sebastian? It’s alright…I’m not going anywhere.”
Her voice was so gentle, her words so unconditional, it stirred something inside him. Something he couldn’t walk away from. Even if he might never be with her the way he wanted, she was still his friend, and deserved the truth, consequences be damned.
Clearing his throat, he forced his lips to move, numb though they were. “Aunt B. told you how I tried to, um, resurrect my parents when I was a teenager, right?”
Lily nodded, eyes wide. Thiriel remained impassive. She’d lived this story, so there were no surprises for her.
“Well, what she didn’t say, probably because she didn’t know, is that for part of the ritual I carved…demonic symbols onto my hand.” He held it out, fae tattoo clearly visible. He couldn’t hide it here. “It was to help me better channel and control the demon I was after. Yeah, I know. Stupid. Dangerous. Reckless. Moronic. Believe me I’ve been calling myself those names for years. Even though Aunt B. stopped me from completing the ritual, the marks were still there, and they left me vulnerable to demonic influence.” He let out a long sigh, suddenly weary beyond belief. His past felt like a physical burden he’d been chained to for far too long.
“It wasn’t too bad at first. I could keep myself closed off, protected. But it got worse. A lot worse. By the time I turned eighteen I knew I had to leave, get far away from everyone so I couldn’t hurt them. I was starting to lose control. I thought if I studied more witchcraft, I could find a way to protect myself. There were some wards that helped, but they were all demonic symbols. They might have kept the demons out of my head, but they were like a beacon in the dark. More and more of the buggers kept coming around, poking at my defenses, waiting for me to slip up. So I started looking for a fix elsewhere. I’d read books about the fae from Aunt B’s library when I lived there. Nothing specific, but they were wizard texts, not mundane ones, so they were fairly accurate. They said that fae and demons were arch enemies, so I figured if I could find the fae, they might help me.”
He paused, the memories searing painfully across his psyche. “It’s funny, I never would have found them if I hadn’t been such a demon magnet. Or rather, the fae wouldn’t have given me a second glance if I hadn’t been swarming with their enemies. I kept poking around, looking for contact, and they probably thought I was some possessed wizard trying to spy on them. Maybe I was, in a way. Anyway, when they finally showed up, they almost took me out along with the demons.” He felt an unexpected chuckle bubble up in his chest, remembering the absurdity of that moment, the elation mixed with pure terror.
Thiriel shifted, thinking, perhaps, that she should have just locked him up and been done with it, saving herself a heap of trouble. Maybe she should have. But she hadn’t.
“What happened then?” Lily asked, eyes wide.
Sebastian couldn’t look at her. Didn’t dare. “Thiriel took me in. The rest of the fae weren’t too happy about it, but they couldn’t exactly argue. Demons couldn’t get to me in Melthalin, so as long as I stayed, I was safe. I lived here for…I don’t know how long. Time is funny in the fae realm. But it felt like years.”
“What did you do all that time?” Lily’s soft question made him wince.
“Um…a lot of things,” he hedged. “You know, eating, sleeping, exploring, learning about the fae—”
The cat spoke the truth. Thiriel’s voice needled him.
Glaring at her, he finished “—and serving Queen Thiriel.”
There was a moment of silence. Tortured by not knowing, Sebastian finally looked at his friend but couldn’t read her expression. He
r face had become closed.
“Serving?” she asked, voice neutral.
“Yes, serving. Paying off my debts.” He didn’t elaborate further. “But I always missed home. I wanted to go back. I wanted to fix my problem, not just hide from it. So Thiriel offered me a deal. She could tattoo my hand with fae magic that would block the demon symbols. The tattoo was both a ward and a summoning spell for the staff you’ve seen me use…Tahir, the staff of unmaking. It belonged to…someone else, once. The deal was, she’d give me this power, to protect me wherever I went, if I would use the power to help the fae. And I do,” he finished, glaring at Thiriel. “I destroy demons wherever I find them, and I keep your secrets.”
“That is like reaping the corner of a field and claiming you have collected the harvest.” Thiriel replied, voice cold and flat. “You are the caretaker of Tahir, you owe us more than an afterthought.”
“But you didn’t say that!” Sebastian snapped, finally losing his temper. He’d never put his anger to words, this feeling that the fae had tricked him into something he hadn’t wanted, chained him to a responsibility he’d never be able to fulfill. No, he’d simply left and never come back.
“The weight of power speaks for itself. It was meant to bring balance. You were meant to bring balance. Did you think I would give such a weapon to be used as a toy?” She stood up, anger coursing just under the surface. Sebastian knew he was on dangerous ground, but didn’t care.
“No! I was just stupid enough to think you actually cared about me and wanted to help me. But no, all you wanted was a surrogate, a warm body to slot into the empty place beside you and pretend everything was back to normal.”
Standing himself, he squared his shoulders and stabbed a furious finger in Thiriel’s direction. “Well, I’m not your champion. I’m not Thiriar.”
The charged silence stretched into eternity. He desperately wanted to look at Lily, to know what she was thinking, but he kept his gaze fixed on Thiriel’s white eyes. He’d finally had the nerve to do what he should have done years ago. Thiriel could snap him like a twig, and maybe she would. But at least it would put an end to things. At least he’d no longer be running.
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Legends Page 14
