by Bree Verity
"I'll go to Mrs. Fletcher about this, I will," Maisie warned Cook, who took no notice, but bustled back over to where the stoves were burning merrily.
Maisie sighed and looked at Diana. "Let's go," she said miserably.
Diana was not upset about the opportunity to go to where the guests might be. If only she got the opportunity to speak to Lady Diana... and there she was. Seated on a chaise, looking mightily bored.
Diana couldn't help but watch Lady Diana as she walked into the parlor directly behind Maisie. Unfortunately, Maisie stopped suddenly, and Diana collided with her, sending four or five of her delicate sandwiches to the floor.
"Watch out," grumbled Maisie. Diana gasped and slid the rest of the sandwiches on to the sideboard, then leaned down to the floor to pick up the dropped ones, aided by Maisie.
"Don't put them back with the good ones," gasped Maisie. "Don't you know anything?"
"What do I do with them?"
"In the pocket of your pinafore."
Diana slipped the goods into her pinafore and then turned to face her doppelganger. To her embarrassment, all the assembled party were looking right at her. She flushed beetroot red, then lifted her head, stilling her quaking heart.
"Lady Diana," she said in a voice that sounded loud in her ears. "May I have a word with you?"
Maisie froze.
"Certainly not, you impudent girl," snapped a familiar voice from the side, and Lady Edenburgh came toward her. "What on earth would Lady Diana have to discuss with you?"
Her godmother never seemed so tall or so terrifying. "I... It is a personal matter, your ladyship."
"This is neither the time nor the place for your personal matters."
"But I..." Diana's glance slid over to Lady Diana.
"But what?" Lady Edenburgh's tone was peremptory. "Speak up girl. What do you want with Lady Diana?"
"I'm sorry, your ladyship, but it is something I can only discuss with Lady Diana."
She hung her head as if she had done something wrong. She could feel her godmother's eyes upon her, sizing her up and a little shiver passed down her spine.
"Go tell your personal matter to Mrs. Fletcher then, and she can decide if it's worth Lady Diana's hearing. Go on. Off you go." Lady Edenburgh made a brushing motion with her hands and, to her mortification, Diana realized she had been dismissed. She threw an imploring glance at Lady Diana, however the lady, whoever she might be, seemed to be making a concerted effort not to look in her direction.
Maisie pulled her out of the room, hissing "Are you totally insane?"
"Well, how else was I supposed to talk to her?" Diana asked. "Send her an engraved invitation?"
"Mrs. Fletcher will have your hide when she hears about this," Maisie offered cheerfully, making her way back to the kitchen.
Diana followed; her steps slower. She was so tired and fed up with the charade. Lady Diana looked so comfortable sitting there in her beautiful gown with her hair done and her tea on her lap and a gentleman either side - it was all Diana could do not to weep with frustration.
And she hadn't discovered anything about either of the gentlemen - they had cleaned Captain Littleton's room and discovered nothing of interest at all. Diana's temper was fraying. All of this, all her humiliation and reduction had been for nothing. She was no closer to an answer than she had been when she woke up this morning.
* * *
The frustration built even more when she was given the task of cleaning the bannisters, and then left for an hour. The job took ten minutes.
Aimlessly, she ran a cloth across the top of the already polished bannister and let her mind wander.
She wondered if feeling hungry was just part of the servant's lot, if their entire days were spent doing chores and waiting for the next meal.
Not that they were underfed. Lady Edenburgh took care of her staff. It was more that there was nothing interesting that happened between mealtimes.
"Psst. Diana."
With a start, she looked down the stairs to see Lady Diana climbing the stairs towards her.
It was like looking in a mirror - except of course that her own current visage looked nothing like the one staring up at her. She took in the blue eyes, porcelain skin and bright gold hair and decided that she liked her own face very much, and that she would be pleased when it was returned to her.
"Come to my - your chambers. I shall meet you there."
Lady Diana lifted her skirts and swept past Diana as if she had not said a word. Open-mouthed, Diana watched her pass, then sprang into action, running into the now empty parlor where she knew Maisie was busy.
"Maisie," she said breathlessly. "You must accompany me right now. To Lady Diana's chambers."
Maisie had been poised to say no, but when Diana mentioned where they were going, she slipped her cleaning rag into her pinafore pocket and hurried to Diana's side. Together, they rushed up the stairs to the family's wing, and knocked on Lady Diana's closed door.
The Lady herself opened the door a crack and when she saw who it was, said sharply to Diana, "Not her. Just you."
"But she knows."
Lady Diana's eyes bulged. "You told her? Did Fenella not tell you the rules?" But even as she chided Diana, she opened the door far enough for the two of them to slip in, then shut it firmly behind them. Diana glanced around the room anxiously, then relaxed. Everything was just as she had left it.
"Why did you tell her?" Lady Diana's hands were on her hips and her face wore an aggrieved expression. "The least number of people who know, the better."
Maisie's eyes were wide. "Then it's true?" she asked in some bewilderment.
At this, Lady Diana turned again to Diana. "She didn't believe you? Why did you bring her with you?"
"I wanted her to know."
"Why?"
"So..." Diana tried to put her feelings into words. "So I would not be alone."
Lady Diana closed her eyes and made a sound like a sigh in the back of her throat. A strange white light filled the room. The air in front of Lady Diana seemed to shimmer, then from out of the shimmer stepped the most beautiful blond man Diana had ever seen.
No, it wasn't a man. His featherlight wings moved softly behind him before they disappeared with a quiet snap, and he was very slightly levitating.
Maisie shrieked out loud. "Mary, mother of God preserve us." She crossed herself, dashing to the furthest corner of the room and crouching down, her face averted.
Even Diana, who had experienced fae magic, was impressed by the display for a moment, before her jaw dropped.
"But... you're a man," she said.
The fae looked down his perfect nose at her. "I am not," he said with a curl of the lip and an accent very similar to Fenella's. "I am he-fae." He stretched and grunted contentedly. "And it is wonderful to get out of that body, I can tell you. I have no idea how you survive day to day trapped in such a thing."
"B... but that's impossible," shivered Maisie. "It's a trick."
"Well of course it's a trick," replied the he-fae. "It's a transformation spell."
Diana's face lit up. "Can you transform me? Back to my own self?"
"No. Only the fae who placed the spell on you can transform you back." Eagerness crossed his features. "All you need to do is call to her, you know."
Diana's shoulders fell. "I tried to call her. She did not respond."
The he-fae's brows drew together. "That's strange," he said. "She's supposed to come at your request." His shoulders sagged. "But you know, that's just like Fenella. Going off and leaving me stuck here."
Diana compared his predicament to hers, and decided she was in the greater spot of bother. Still, his words were interesting. "Why is it that you are you stuck here?"
"Because there has to be a Lady Diana." The he-fae threw his hands wide. "If you were to disappear completely, the whole house would be in an uproar."
"I do not understand any of this," poor Maisie said. "Who is Fenella?"
"Fenella is my fairy
godmother," explained Diana. "She changed me into a housemaid. And she has obviously managed to persuade..." she gestured toward the he-fae, who provided his name, "Lachlan."
"...Lachlan to take my place while I investigated. But I do not understand what else she wants me to do." Diana turned toward Lachlan. "I have searched their rooms. The only other thing I might be able to do is watch them, but how can I do that when I am constantly at work?"
Maisie took two tremulous steps towards them. "So, you really are Lady Diana?"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Maisie."
To Diana's surprise, Maisie flung herself at her feet and took her hand. "Oh, my Lady I didn't know. Please, don't cast me off. I didn't mean to make you empty the pots. Only it's tradition to trick the new girl into doing it. If I'd known it was your ladyship, I should never have told the pot-boy to leave them."
Diana felt as if her entire body flushed cold, then hot. "What? I didn't have to empty all the chamber pots?"
"Of course not. Nobody wants their sheets to be changed by a girl who has been handling... that kind of thing."
"Of all the dirty tricks..." Diana was ready to be furious but found she could not be. Lachlan's laughter rang around the room like a merry bell, and it seemed to dampen her anger.
"You have to admit, it's a neat trick to play," he said to Diana, lifting his shoulders.
"Well," said Diana. Maisie looked up at her hopefully. "Alright. All is forgiven, Maisie. You were not to know."
"Oh, thank you, my Lady. I shall not make you do another moment of work."
"But you must keep my secret. No calling me your Lady when we're down in the kitchen."
"Oh, no, of course not, my... I mean, Annie." Maisie smiled widely as she regained her feet. "I thought you were an angel," she told Lachlan, who raised one haughty eyebrow but didn't make any response.
"So," said Maisie cheerfully, "What do we do now?"
"Go back to what we were doing, I suppose, until Fenella deigns to join us," said Lachlan. Diana could hear the aversion in his voice.
"Is it really so bad being me?" she asked. "At least you are not on your feet the whole day."
"No but listening to the innocuous conversation of a dozen humans at once is enough to make me wish I was," Lachlan retorted.
"You don't seem to have a very high opinion of us."
He shrugged, seemingly of two minds. "Well, I chose to be a fairy godmother, so I like you. Very much. As a group. But on your own?" A shiver coursed through him. "I should rather face a pack of ice giants."
"Ice giants?" asked Maisie excitedly before Diana could chime in with the same question.
"Forget I said it." The bright light shone again and the air in front of Lachlan shimmered. Before Diana and Maisie's eyes, he returned to being Lady Diana, albeit a grumpy version.
"Whatever Fenella is doing, she had better have an excellent explanation for why she has abandoned us."
"Amen to that," agreed Diana.
Chapter Thirteen.
"One hour, Phineas. That's all I can spare."
Fenella had regretted the words the moment they can out of her mouth. Not only was she going back on her promise to Lachlan, she was allowing herself to trust the brother that she swore she would never trust again. And trusting him about strange, unknown things where she had no choice but to rely on his word.
Oh, yes, he had played her well. Spinning the tale about the little sick girl? Making it seem like if Fenella didn't help the poor thing would die a horrific death? As children, they had hypothesized about what soul sickness would feel like - like ants eating your skin away, but nowhere that you could stop them - like slugs leaving slick trails through your insides, or even just like the insidious wasting illness that had taken their mother over years and years of suffering.
Following him now, all Fenella's doubts surfaced. She had been a fool. She knew Phineas - knew the duplicity he was capable of. Why on earth had she allowed her judgment to be clouded?
Because, she thought sourly, he knew Fenella would not allow a child to suffer. But goodness knows if the child was even real, or if any of what Phineas had said was real.
Ten minutes of flying had taken them out of Fairy Godmother headquarters and into the middle of the beautiful Fae city of P'ffayn. Unlike the stark whiteness of headquarters, P'ffayn was organic and picturesque - as if it had grown there instead of being built. Fae architecture had always fascinated Fenella. Of course, as a dark fae it was an art she would never really be able to master - the tiny intricacies of the work required a firm, light hand, and dark magic was designed to break down, not build up.
Whenever she traversed P'ffayn, she felt as if she was flying through an old, wizened forest, where the buildings grew out of the trees themselves, adorning the branches and trunks with light and color. Walls were fine webs of timber, vines and jewels, roofs were canopies of leaves and branches twisted to form snug, watertight coverings. The breeze she and Phineas created from their wings gusted handfuls of leaves into the air, and Fenella drank in the earthy scent particular to outside, realizing she had been cooped up in the corporate sameness of headquarters for far too long.
Phineas slowed and dropped to his feet in front of a knobbled doorway. "This is it," he said.
There was a quiet reverence in his voice that Fenella had never heard before.
Phineas knocked on the door in a pattern using the tops of his fingers - two knocks with his middle finger, one with his ring finger, one with his index finger, and finishing with three knocks from his thumb. It seemed foolish and overcomplicated to Fenella, but she stayed silent as the door swung open inwards and Phineas bowed, a grin on his boyish face.
"Welcome to the real you," he said with a flourish of his arm.
Fenella glowered at him before stepping past him into the building.
Inside seemed dim, however wherever there were people, there was light. The place was a hive of activity, with fae running backwards and forwards between rooms and tables, and a hundred hushed conversations taking place at once. It was a cacophony Fenella rarely heard, but somehow, it felt soothing - as if the conversations settled down comfortably into the place between her shoulder blades where her wings were. Her wings themselves seemed to be purring contentedly.
Phineas walked up to a tall fae whose back was to them. Lightly touching his arm, he said, "Nazryth, can I introduce you to..."
The tall fae turned around with a smile. "Ah, then this is Fenella? How do you fare, my lovely?"
Nazryth held out his hand but Fenella could not move. She knew it was rude, but she felt as if her jaw had hit the floor and she had no power to retrieve it.
She had never seen a dark-skinned fae before. They were even more rare than fae twins.
Nazryth's piercing blue eyes shone out from a face the color of the bark from the darkest of oaks. It would seem he was a light fae, because he had the eyes and the blond hair, which he wore cropped very close to his head. But the color of his skin, deep as molasses, turned him from a bright, shining creature into something else altogether.
Phineas dug a sharp elbow into her ribs, and she managed to stutter out, "I'm well, thank you." She took Nazryth's hand, noticing the much lighter palm and the fascinating juxtaposition of pale skin against dark.
Luckily for her, he seemed amused by her bemusement, instead of offended. "We are two of a kind, are we not? Anomalies in our own race." His voice was deep and bassy, but still with the chime of a light fae.
Fenella smiled, a little embarrassed. "I'm so sorry," she started, but Nazryth waved her apology away. "No need," he said. "I get that all the time."
"Still, of all the people who should be able to empathize."
"Well, let us call it a temporary lapse." Nazryth's eyes sparkled in amusement, but a moment later they turned serious. He called to another fae, "Maryse? Could you join us?"
A slim light fae detached herself from a conversing group and joined theirs. Thankfully, she seemed quite norma
l - blonde hair, blue eyes, and the usual aura of positivity and shininess. Fenella was surprised to find a light fae working with the blackdarks.
"You must be Fenella," Maryse said, holding out her hand, which Fenella shook quickly. "We've been waiting for you. Hoping, in fact." A grim smile crossed her face. "What has Phineas told you?"
"A few things that scared me," Fenella admitted. "That there are more blackdarks than just him and me, and that soul-sickness is a real thing."
Both Nazryth and Maryse nodded, and Fenella felt a lump in the pit of her stomach. While it was just Phineas, she could have ignored him, forgotten his words and continued in happy oblivion. But with more people confirming, she had no choice but to face up.
"But I don't understand," she said. "How can there be so many blackdarks? We've always and ever been an anomaly."
Nazryth laughed, but there was no humor in it. He motioned for them to start walking, which Fenella did, with Maryse and Phineas taking up position behind, talking softly between themselves. "Actually in the past we were a sizeable portion of the fae," he said. "But some were afraid of the soul magic and sought to... selectively cull us from the population." He smiled, and the white teeth in his dark face were brilliant. "I suppose we are not that easy to breed out."
"I suppose not." Fenella nodded her head back at Maryse. "Is she helping you?"
"Who, Maryse?"
"Yes. I was surprised to find a full light fae here."
At this Nazryth let out a shout of laughter. "Oh, my lovely, you are woefully underinformed. Maryse is blackdark too."
Fenella could not believe her ears. How on earth could a light fae wield blackdark? Wasn't it a dark magic?
At her startled expression, Nazryth explained, "Anyone can be born with soul magic. It exists apart from the usual dark and light. We think it occurs less in light fae because of the selective breeding of generations ago. Besides that, the name given - blackdark - tends to make one think it belongs wholly to those with dark magic. And there are factions who would like to keep it that way."
"Factions?"
"Powerful groups of light fae who want to ensure that their line is 'pure', and who will go to all kinds of lengths to make that happen, including damaging their own children."
