[Creepy Hollow 02.0] The Faerie Prince

by Rachel Morgan

  “Time to get out,” a guard says, interrupting my thoughts. The boat bumps gently against the bank. The river disappears around a corner, and a quiet rushing sound signals a waterfall somewhere in the distance. “We’ll travel the rest of the way by air.”

  We climb out, walk a little way through the trees, and stop in front of a closed carriage pulled by four white pegasi.

  “Yes!” Ryn exclaims. “I haven’t ridden a pegasus in years.”

  “Mr. Larkenwood, you are aware that you’ll be riding in the carriage, not on a pegasus?”

  With a sigh, Ryn says, “Fine. If I have to.”

  It’s a bit of a tight fit with six of us inside the carriage, and I’m not too pleased to find myself squished between Ryn and a guard. Well, part of me is ridiculously ecstatic to have my right arm and leg pressed against Ryn, but I’m definitely not pleased about having the left side of my personal space invaded.

  “We’ll be traveling through the night,” says personal-space-invader guard, “so you might want to get some sleep.”

  Oh, great. We have to sit like this for the whole night? I try to forget about personal-space-invader guard and focus instead on Ryn’s left hand, which is resting on his leg—right, right next to mine. So close that if I spread out my fingers I’d be touching his. It’s ridiculous how badly I want to reach over and take his hand. I never thought I’d crave anyone’s touch so much, but I do. Just thinking about his hands on my skin makes me feel warm all over.

  With a jerk, the carriage moves forward, then quickly speeds up. Moments later the rumbling beneath the wheels disappears as the carriage tilts back slightly.

  We’re in the air.

  The thrill of flying is enough to make me momentarily forget my desire for Ryn. I look past him and out of the carriage window. It’s concealed partially by a curtain, but I can see the tree tops disappearing below us as we shoot across the sky toward the stars. It makes my head spin.

  I return my gaze to the interior of the carriage and realize Ryn is watching me. I meet his eyes for a split second before looking away. And there it is again. Desire. Like a shot of adrenaline, it rushes through my body and sets my heart pounding.

  I tilt my head back and close my eyes. I should be trying to remember everything my father ever told me about my mother’s visit to the Seelie Court, and instead I’m obsessing over Ryn. I clasp my hands together in my lap so my fingers won’t accidentally entwine with Ryn’s. I will remember whatever clues my father gave me about my mother’s secret hiding place.

  My neck is stiff. I peel my eyelids apart and blink several times against the morning light before remembering where I am—a carriage—and what I’m sleeping on—Ryn.

  OH HOLY EMBARRASSMENT OF ALL EMBARRASSMENTS. How long have I been sleeping on Ryn’s shoulder? Did I talk in my sleep? Did I snuggle up to him? Did I drool on him?

  That last thought causes me to sit up hurriedly and slap a hand over my mouth.

  Okay. No drool.

  Ryn rubs a hand over his eyes and then through his hair. Hopefully he was asleep too. Hopefully he has no idea I just used him as a pillow.

  He looks down at me with confusion in his eyes. “What?” I ask, with a little more defense in my voice than necessary. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” He frowns. “Something wrong with you?”

  “No.”

  He catches my arm to stop me sliding off the seat as the carriage slows suddenly. Our ride ends with a bump as the carriage wheels hit the ground. Ryn lets go of my arm and turns away from me to look out the window. My skin feels oddly cold in the absence of his touch.

  “We’ve arrived,” says personal-space-invader guard, reaching to touch a lever beside his seat. The top of the carriage vanishes. Fresh air and the delicate scent of flowers drift over me. The carriage glides forward as we travel along a wide driveway lined on either side by trees laden with pink and orange blossoms. Branches reach over the driveway to meet each other, shading us from the morning sun. Blossoms float to the ground like confetti.

  “So … can anyone just wander through here?” Ryn asks. “I didn’t see a gate.”

  “There’s no need for a gate,” says the guard opposite Ryn. “This place is protected by strong enchantments and watched over by hundreds of hidden guards.”

  After examining the trees and having no luck finding any guards, I point my eyes forward once more. I don’t want to miss a single detail of the palace we’re about to enter. At the end of the driveway is a white archway with a sheet of water running down across the opening, preventing us from seeing through. As we pass beneath the archway, the water parts like a curtain. We enter a courtyard filled with the same pink- and orange-blossomed trees. The pegasi come to a stop. Through the trees, I catch glimpses of white walls and pillars, but before I can look too closely, a new pair of guards—with the Seelie Queen’s insignia on their uniforms—comes forward to meet us. They bow, wait for Ryn and me to get down from the carriage, and lead the way forward with quick, controlled strides.

  We pass beneath another archway and enter a second courtyard. Although we’ve left the forest outside, it’s difficult to see where nature ends and the palace begins. Perhaps there is no beginning and end. Perhaps a forest of white trees was coaxed into growing and melding a structure of rooms, towers, pillars, and spiraling stairways, and this palace is just as alive as the forest that surrounds it.

  I see people here and there, some leaning out of balconies and others walking along open corridors. I take in their richly detailed outfits and feel vastly underdressed in my everyday black attire. Tora assured me I didn’t need to bring any fancy clothes, so I’m hoping there’s no need to panic about being inappropriately dressed.

  Ryn and I follow the guards through a vast open room with a water fountain in its center. I pause for a moment to look at the three stone mermaids reaching for the sky as water spurts from their hands. We continue up a winding stairway, along a corridor, and finally arrive at our bedrooms. I don’t know what Ryn’s looks like, but mine is far fancier than anything I’ve ever dreamt of sleeping in: four-poster canopied bed, chaise longue, ornate floor-length mirror, balcony. A serving woman stands to the side of the expansive room with a scroll in her hand.

  With my mind somewhat boggled, I half listen as the woman reads our schedule from the scroll. She tells me when we’ll be shown around the grounds, who we’ll be eating lunch with, what time we’ll be dining with the Queen, and when we’ll be observing the Royal Guard training.

  The Royal Guard. Right. That’s the real reason we’re given this ‘prize’ of visiting the Seelie Court—so the Queen can check out the latest graduates and see if she wants to poach any to work here as her personal guardians.

  “Tonight and tomorrow night someone will come to your room before dinner to dress you,” the serving woman adds. “Two days from now, in the morning, your guards from the Guild will be here to accompany you home. Do you have any questions, Miss Fairdale?”

  “Um, no.”

  She curtsies and leaves the room. I’m left wondering what it is I’m supposed to be doing now. I try to remember the beginning of her speech but can only think of her telling me that my bag was delivered to the room before I got here.

  May as well relax, then. I walk over to the bed that’s probably covered in sheets of a bazillion thread count, flop onto it, and try not to think about Ryn sleeping just a wall away from me tonight.

  Twenty

  It’s weird being dressed by someone I don’t know. It’s also weird being made to wear something I’d never choose for myself. The dress, which is apparently the color of champagne and is far too glittery for my taste, hugs my figure all the way down to about my knees, where it flares out just enough for me to move my legs. It comes to an end on the floor a few feet behind me. The sleeves are also ridiculously long, like bell shapes hanging past my fingertips. I’m certain they’re going to find their way into my soup or dessert.

  The clothes caster flits a
bout me, making minor adjustments to the dress. “Okay, I think we’re done here.” She steps back to examine me, eyes the gold key around my neck, and opens her mouth.

  “I’m not taking it off,” I say before she can tell me it clashes with my dress or something.

  “Fine. Well, if you have no further need of me, I have other girls to dress.”

  “Great, I think I can handle it from here.” I don’t need her changing my hastily pinned-up locks into some whacked out hairdo.

  “Do you remember where the throne room is?”

  “Yes.” We were told exactly where to assemble before dinner while having our tour around the palace earlier. We were even given a quick lesson in the dining room on which cutlery to use for which course.

  The clothes caster nods and leaves to find the other guardian graduates who need help dressing. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before we got here, but obviously all the Guilds that have graduation at the same time as us would send their top trainees here now. It makes sense for the Seelie Court to receive us all at the same time.

  I head to the door, curling my toes in the thick carpet. The only thing I like about this outfit is the absence of shoes. Despite the finery of the clothing, it seems the trend around here is to go barefoot.

  I open the door to find Ryn waiting there. I expected him to be wearing a suit, but it looks like someone was sent to dress him too. His pants are white, as is the long tunic-type top that reaches to his thighs. The top is covered in embroidery and tiny beads, and there’s a glittery scarf thing hanging around his neck that reaches down to his knees on either side.

  “Wow,” he says when he sees me. “You look really … sparkly.”

  “I know. You could probably spot me from the moon.” I close the door behind me. “But you can’t exactly talk since you aren’t far behind in the sparkles department.”

  Ryn adjusts his scarf. “Yeah, I’m not a fan of traditional fae formal wear. I think the royals need to move into the modern age.”

  “You could suggest that to the Queen this evening. I’m sure it would make for scintillating dinner conversation.”

  “Right after she chops my head off.” He holds his arm out to me, and I feel a thrill as I take it.

  A thrill? Ugh, what has become of me? I used to get my thrills from fighting dangerous creatures; now I get them from touching Ryn’s arm. I take a deep breath and try my best to remember what it feels like to be just friends with Ryn.

  “So, is your visit to the Seelie Court living up to your expectations?” he asks as we descend the stairs.

  “Not just yet. The tea party in the garden this afternoon kind of interfered with my exploration plans.”

  “Ah, yes. Drinking tea with the Queen’s daughter and twenty-something other graduates. I can see how that wouldn’t really be your, uh, cup of tea.”

  I roll my eyes. “Ha-freaking-ha.”

  “Come on, you laughed inside,” he says as he nudges me.

  We follow the directions we were given earlier and find our way to a wide hallway outside the throne room. Several other graduates are already dressed and waiting there. A tall girl with hair and eyes as black as obsidian looks Ryn up and down before giving him a dazzling smile. When he nods in her direction, jealousy burns hot and sudden in the pit of my stomach. Apparently she takes his nod as an invitation because she walks over and begins chatting to him about where she’s from. He pulls his arm away from mine and leans against the wall, exuding confidence as he tells her about the Creepy Hollow Guild.

  I suppose I could try and join the conversation instead of standing here awkwardly, but what would be the point? They’re clearly only interested in talking to each other. Jealousy still pokes spitefully at me, and I hate that it hurts to watch Ryn flirting with someone else. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have not-just-friends feelings for him. I know I’ll only end up getting hurt because there will always be another girl out there more exciting and exotic than I am.

  I wander away, swinging my arms at my sides and trying to pretend I don’t feel rejected. I look around and notice one of the male graduates watching me. Another one flashes a smile in my direction. I look away quickly, clasping my hands behind my back. Weirdos.

  The great throne room doors engraved with curling patterns of leaves and branches slowly begin to open. A uniformed man comes through them and stands in front of us. All chattering amongst the graduates ceases. “The Seelie Queen will receive you now,” he says. “You will enter the throne room as you are announced. Keep your eyes down, bow or curtsy, and if she speaks to you, address her as ‘my lady.’ She will dismiss you with a wave of her hand, after which you will leave the room through the door on the left and take your place in the dining room.”

  The doors are fully open now, and the guard returns to stand just inside, opposite another guard. When he calls out the first name—Opal Briarstone—the dark-haired girl standing beside Ryn walks forward. I stand on tiptoe and crane my neck to try and catch a glimpse of the room and the Queen, but after a stern look from the guard calling out the names, I drop back onto my feet.

  I don’t know what sort of order they’re using to call out the names, but there are only four of us left in the hallway when Ryn and I are called in. We walk forward into the room, almost close enough to hold hands. Giant marble tiles—surprisingly not that cold beneath my feet—form a mosaic pattern of concentric circles across the floor. Shapes move beneath the surface of the tiles, and I’m reminded for a second of the chamber Nate and I found his mother Angelica in. I push the two of them from my mind. I’m about to meet the Seelie Queen herself; I don’t need any distractions.

  We reach a marking on the floor and come to a stop. Ryn bows and I attempt to curtsy in my super-tight dress. I raise my eyes just high enough to see the bottom of the Queen’s skirt, which looks like it’s been cast from a cascading green waterfall.

  “Ah, yes,” the Queen says. “The Guild that managed to produce two top graduates instead of one. That has not happened since the reign of my mother.” She pauses, but I don’t see her hand move, so I stay exactly where I am. “You both come from a long line of guardians, do you not?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Ryn says, answering for both of us.

  Another pause. “So unfortunate, Miss Fairdale, what happened to both your parents.”

  My insides seem to freeze and burn at the same time. “Unfortunate, my lady?” I raise my eyes. I know I’m not supposed to, but it’s too late now. I see a woman with long black hair interwoven with silver strands. Her thick tresses slide over her bare shoulders. Her bright silver eyes pierce me, but I still can’t look away. She’s many centuries old, but her face is flawless, of course. And something about that face and the way she tilts her chin up as she gazes down at me seems familiar. “If you’re referring to the fact that both my parents were murdered while carrying out their guardian duty, I prefer to think of it as tragic rather than simply unfortunate.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Ryn’s hands clenching into fists. If I could hear his thoughts, they’d probably be something along the lines of Are you flipping trying to get your head chopped off? Now would be a good time to point my eyes firmly downward, but I can’t seem to tear them away from the Queen’s silver gaze. For several endless moments we’re locked in what feels like a staring contest. Then she raises her hand and dismisses us with a quick wave toward the door on the left.

  “Holy goblin asses, V. I thought she was going to strike you down with her eyes.”

  I laugh as I swing myself around a pillar just outside the room with the water fountain. Our dinner with the Queen is over, and we’re heading back to our rooms. “So did I. I have no idea what came over me; I just got really angry when she referred to my parents’ deaths as ‘unfortunate.’ I wanted to say how unfortunate it was that her younger daughter ran away.”

  “Then she really would’ve struck you down,” Ryn says. “It’s weird that she even knows about your parents. Do you think s
he reads some kind of bio on each of us before we get here?” He leans over and swipes his hand through the base of the water feature as we pass it, splashing water across my back.

  “Hey!” I shout, then cover my mouth as two graduates on the stairs turn around and frown down at us. “I don’t know. She probably had someone magically feeding her the highlights on each of us as we walked into the room.”

  “Probably.” We mount the stairs. “You know, I always imagined dinner with the Queen to be a far more informative event. I was hoping for some in-depth discussions, and instead we were seated so far away we couldn’t even hear her.”

  “Well, you seemed to have plenty to discuss with the girl sitting next to you,” I say as I trail my hand up the banister. “And I’m not talking about me.”

  Ryn stops. I turn to look down at him from the step above his. He cocks his head to the side as he says, “Did I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice, Sexy Pixie?”

  “No.” The word leaves my mouth too quickly. “And don’t call me Sexy Pixie. It’s almost as bad as Pixie Sticks.”

  “I apologize,” he says, but that mischievous gleam never leaves his eyes.

  We reach my bedroom first, and I pause with my hand against the door. “I’ve been trying to figure something out all evening. The Queen seems very familiar to me, but I know I’ve never met her before.”

  Ryn raises both eyebrows. “You know her portrait is hanging in the Guild library, right?”

  “Oh, yes. I’d forgotten about that.” Then I shake my head. “But I never sit at that end of the library. It’s been years since I saw that portrait.” I shrug and lean back to push my door open. “Anyway, I’ll see you in five minutes?”

  “Yes,” Ryn says, giving me a salute.

  I close my door and wriggle out of the dress. I change into black pants and a top and pull the pins out of my hair. Should I add my boots? No, I’m enjoying being barefoot too much. But that does leave me with the problem of where to put my stylus. After some thought, I twist my hair up and stick my stylus through it to hold it in place. Perfect. Why haven’t I tried that before?