The Last Faerie Queen

by Chelsea Pitcher

  “Have you rejoined her, then?” I said after a moment. The thought was worse than anything I’d imagined. But the Dark Lady could be very convincing, and if Illya believed I’d fallen prey to the wasteland …

  The human world, I reminded myself.

  “It isn’t that,” Illya broke in. “We would love nothing more than to follow you into battle and overthrow your mother’s court.”

  “But?”

  “We are beginning to doubt your loyalties. And your mother’s edict is clever … ” Illya looked away, into the darkness. “What better way to prove you don’t care for humans than to hand—”

  “Four of them over to you? To torture for sport? Illya, you cannot be serious.”

  “Don’t be silly, princess. We do not want four humans.”

  The breath rushed back into me. “You don’t? Oh, thank Darkness. I thought—”

  “We only want one.”

  “What? ”

  “The boy whose life you saved.”

  “The boy who—why him? ”

  “Because your actions indicate that he means something to you.”

  He means everything to me.

  But I couldn’t say it. I would lose everything if I said it.

  “Illya, what do they believe?” I asked, studying the forest. Searching for the faces of my followers. My friends. “Do they think I went traipsing off to the wasteland for a vacation?”

  “They believe what I told them. You went in search of something that would help strengthen our cause.”

  “Then what am I missing?”

  She turned, speaking softly. “They believe something happened while you were there, something that changed you.”

  It did.

  “But if you hand over the mortal, it will prove that you are still the same,” Illya finished. “That he hasn’t corrupted you.”

  “Illya,” I whispered. “He hasn’t corrupted me.”

  He has saved my life.

  “Please, you have to believe me,” I begged.

  “I’m sorry, princess. We cannot let you pass. Not without proof.”

  “And if I bring him to you, you will … sacrifice him? Spill his blood on my mother’s court?”

  “Perhaps if we had time, a ritual could be performed,” she said casually. “Something to strengthen our revolution.”

  “But?” I asked, feeling sicker than I’d ever felt. These were my people. My family. They were supposed to be.

  “But, as it is, we have much to accomplish, and very little time to do it,” she said. “So—”

  “You’d let him roam, then? Wander the forests unharmed?”

  “We are busy, princess. We are not fools.”

  “So you’d lash him to a tree somewhere and forget about him? Forever?”

  She paused, and I turned to look at her, resting on the edge of my shoulder. Her eyes were alight with fire, as if hungry. “Have you truly forgotten the ways of the world? The natural order of things—”

  “Just say it, Illya. Say what you’re going to say, and be gone from here. I have to think.”

  “Humans don’t live forever. A blink of an eye, and they’re gone.”

  Thankfully, we used to say. But I did not say that anymore. “How much time do I have to decide? The Summer Solstice is over a month away—”

  “We are not waiting until the Solstice to strike,” Illya said. “We attack on the seventeenth of this month, the morning after the full moon. You’d need to be here by the fifteenth, to give yourself time to reach the castle.”

  “The fifteenth? No, no, no. That’s less than—”

  “Two weeks away. I know.”

  “It isn’t enough time! By the time I return to the mortal—”

  “It’s plenty of time,” Illya said. “You infiltrated the wasteland, befriended a host of mortals, and lured them into the Seelie Court in a matter of weeks.”

  “I didn’t lure them. They saved my life—”

  “Lady, please.” She stepped closer, speaking into my ear. “We will not last until the Solstice. The Dark Queen is going through us one by one, trying to get to you. She is torturing us. We have to attack soon.”

  “But the full moon … ”

  “It’s the brightest night of the month,” Illya said. “The courtiers will sleep poorly, and your mother is already growing weak, with summer fast approaching.”

  “Faster and faster it comes, each year,” I murmured, looking back toward the Seelie Court. Looking toward him. “What if I fail the test? What if I cannot bring you a human sacrifice?”

  “We will carry out your plans without you.”

  I laughed, but there was no joy in it. “You cannot take on the Dark Lady yourselves. She will obliterate a third of your army.”

  “It’s a risk we are willing to take.”

  “Do you really hate me so?” I reached up, as if to draw her into my hand. She scuttled away, climbing onto an overhanging branch. “Would you really forget everything we have been through?”

  “I never forget,” she said fiercely. “I can never forget. That is why it breaks my heart to think you’ve fallen.”

  “I … ” I began, but I couldn’t finish the thought. The truth of it was, I’d fallen many times. Fallen from the sky’s loving embrace. Fallen to the dirt. Fallen for a human. Now, with so much at stake, would I fall back into my old beliefs, or fall away from my mother’s court forever? My home?

  “This is a riddle I cannot solve,” I said softly. The darkness responded to me. Reaching out its tendrils, it brushed the hair from my face and kissed my cheeks.

  It wants you back, a voice whispered, and I leaned in, letting it soothe me. All it needs is one little offering.

  Offering? I thought. They asked for a sacrifice. But those words weren’t so different, were they? It all depended on how the offer was made.

  “Illya,” I said, a fluttery feeling in my chest. My guts were clenching, but what choice did I have? “Suppose I could bring you the mortal. Wouldn’t he be better suited to fight alongside us in battle? We could use the bodies.”

  Oh, Darkness. I hadn’t meant it that way. Hadn’t meant to speak of him as a body. A corpse. But Illya heard the offering the way she wanted to, and it piqued her interest.

  “What human would offer that?” she asked.

  “A human who wants to be a hero.” I glanced at the Seelie Forest. “A human who is already painting pictures for me.” Lowering my voice, I told her of my plans to glamour the battlefield to look like a human city. “If we all work together, we can create a fantastical illusion and turn reality on its head.”

  For a moment, Illya looked impressed. Then, as always, she began to pick at the details, making sure my plan was foolproof. “Relying on glamour is risky,” she said. “What if Naeve suspects your illusion and tries to pull it away?”

  “Ah, but I’ve thought of that. You see, after we apply the first glamour, a second glamour will be used, which he can pull away, and—”

  “Dual glamours. Crafty,” she said with a grin. “But what of the other senses?”

  “The other senses?”

  “Well, yes. This glamour will only cover sight,” she reminded me. “Scent is easy enough, if you’re bringing the mortal. But what of sound?”

  “Sound?”

  “Yes, sound. If the courtiers wake to birds chirping and leaves rustling, they will suspect they are still in Faerie. But if we could distract them with some strange and horrible noise … Lady!”

  Her voice was so loud, I jumped at the sound of it. “What is it?” I asked, heart racing.

  “Remember the device you sent me from the mortal world? The communication device with the horrible shriek?”

  “Cell phone,” I said with a laugh. “Yes, the mortal gave it to me, so I could stay in contact with you wh
ile I was away from home.”

  “I imagine he thought you were contacting a human. But think of it, Lady. Think of Naeve waking up to that shriek. Then, when he looks around, and sees the world changed—”

  “Oh, it’s brilliant! You’re brilliant.” I clapped my hands. “Sweet Illya. I knew you would understand.”

  “I don’t,” she said, surprising me. “No human will offer himself up. No human will sacrifice himself. None of this is going to happen.”

  “And if you’re wrong?”

  Illya turned, facing the darkness. I could’ve sworn I heard someone whispering. Finally, she turned back to me, her face solemn. “You’ll have to bring him across the border yourself,” she said. “The Dark Lady has enchanted these woods to snatch up any mortal who enters unattended.”

  “I understand.”

  “It is decided then.” Illya skittered backward, into the trees. “You bring us the mortal, and we will welcome you back into the darkness,” she called.

  Then she was gone. I was alone, grappling with the realization that I had solved her riddle after all. Taylor would have his moment in the sun. The dark faeries would have their offering. Everyone would get exactly what they wanted.

  Except me.

  9

  TayloR

  I woke up with sore arms to find Kylie and Alexia returning from the forest. Their hair was messed up, and they looked like they hadn’t slept all night. Well, that was okay. They could have their fun, and I could have mine. For the first time since I’d arrived here, I felt invigorated.

  For the first time since I met Elora, I felt like I had a purpose of my own.

  And so I painted, with arms that could barely manage to draw a smiley face, let alone an entire city, until evening came again. I smiled and talked through dinner, while pixies and sprites performed acrobatic tricks in the sky. But after the faeries had retreated into their quarters and we’d settled into our beds of leaves and moss, I turned to my friends with a grin.

  “I have something to show you,” I said.

  Together, we snuck through the forest to my secret space in an already secret land, all of us trying to creep but still managing to snap a bunch of twigs. We weren’t exactly used to being stealthy, and we didn’t have the practice—let alone the wings—to keep from making noise. Still, we made it to the clearing without being caught.

  I picked up a sword the minute I entered the space.

  “Holy mother of God,” Keegan said, coming up beside me and reaching for the sword. But he reached for the blade, and I pulled it back before he could touch it.

  “Careful. It’s sharper than you think.”

  “I understand what a sword is.”

  I shook my head. “Look.” Reaching into the overhanging branches, I pulled down a leaf.

  “Most swords will cut a leaf,” Keegan said, as Kylie and Alexia neared the blanket holding all the weapons. But while Alexia immediately began grabbing things, getting a feel for them in her hands, Kylie scanned the entire arsenal, choosing slowly.

  “Watch,” I said to Keegan, dropping the leaf in the air. As it fluttered toward the sword, I turned the blade so that the sharp side was pointing up. The second the leaf touched the blade, it was cut clean in half.

  “Okay,” Keegan said, clearly unimpressed. “The weapons have been sharpened. And?”

  I smiled, giving him the same show that Maya de Lyre had given me last night. She’d even cast an enchantment over the space to muffle the sound of the weapons. “Hand me that branch,” I said, pointing to a thick, gnarled thing a few feet off.

  Keegan did.

  This time, I performed the exact same movements, and when the branch hit the sword, it didn’t bounce off, or come away with a tiny nick. Again, the blade sliced it clean in half.

  “Impressive,” Keegan said, crossing his arms over his chest. But he was smirking a little, like I was putting on a puppet show for kids. Like I was a dime-store magician, and he wanted to play with the big kids.

  That’s okay, I thought. I can play with the big kids. Hell, I can run with the wolves.

  “Now hand me a rock.”

  Keegan’s head snapped up, and I knew I had his full attention. Even the girls were watching now. It was Alexia who brought me a rock, as big as my fist and heavy enough to make a sufficient clang.

  “Give me some space,” I said.

  Keegan and Kylie did as I asked, moving toward the edge of the trees. Only Alexia took her time, taking one exaggerated step, then two.

  “Good enough,” I said. Then I threw the rock into the air.

  This was the tricky part, the part where I had to get the timing just right. Sure, I’d played baseball as a kid, but the hilt of the sword was thicker than a bat, and the rock was heavier than a ball.

  Besides, I wasn’t trying to hit a ball across a field. I was trying to destroy something. To transform it.

  I hit the rock just as it finished its upward trajectory, the blade catching it square in the center. And, just like the branch and the leaf before it, the rocked sliced easily into two equal parts.

  “Whoa,” Keegan said, bending down to pick up half of the rock. In the place where the blade had touched it, the rock was smooth like it’d been cauterized.

  “I’ve never seen a sword do that,” Alexia said.

  Kylie just laughed, grinning like she’d known this would happen. Like she’d finally found a place where the rules (or lack of rules) made sense.

  “That’s what I learned last night,” I said.

  It had, in fact, taken me all night to perfect that move, but they didn’t need to know that. For once, I was the teacher, instead of the one being taught a lesson. For once, I was the leader, and it felt comfortable, like I’d been born to do this.

  “These are the rules,” I said, and I wasn’t imitating Maya de Lyre anymore. These were my rules, and my friends would stick to them or they’d have to leave.

  It was for their own good.

  “We aren’t here to play.” I tilted the sword so they could see how it caught the light. “These aren’t toys. If you stay, you stay to practice for battle, not because you’re fulfilling some childhood fantasy.” That part was as much for me as for them.

  “So if we pick up a weapon, that automatically means we’re fighting in the revolution?” Alexia asked, and I could tell she was inching toward the blanket. Just to pick something up without my permission.

  Just to prove that she could.

  “No,” I said, my gaze flicking to Kylie, who was looking into the trees for some reason. When I followed her gaze, I saw nothing. “You don’t have to agree to anything. I just need you to take this seriously, because these weapons are incredibly dangerous, and you need to respect them.”

  “Master Blade.” Alexia tipped her head at the sword.

  “I’m serious.”

  She smirked. “I know. It’s just funny to see you like this.”

  “Like what? Caring about something?”

  “Oh, we’ve seen you care about something,” Keegan said with a wink.

  “This is more like … you taking initiative.” Alexia smiled, eying me coolly. “The Taylor that takes charge. I like it.”

  “Imagine that.” Keegan knelt beside the blanket, running his hand over a hilt. “You letting someone else take charge.”

  “Oh my God. Shut up!” Kylie exclaimed, and we all turned to her. “Oh, please, like that wasn’t a sex joke.”

  “Alexia’s the sex joke,” Keegan quipped, but he picked up a sword. Bowing at Alexia, he said, “This shall be our final battle.”

  Alexia growled, lifting a sword with a shiny purple blade from the ground. Of course.

  “Um. Guys?” I watched, one hand over my face, waiting for the first limb to fall.

  “No, this is good,” Kylie said. “This could work. Chann
el the anger,” she joked, and I didn’t know which one she was talking to. But it didn’t matter, because Keegan and Alexia had found their sparring partners.

  And I’d found mine.

  “So what do you think,” I asked, my arms already screaming for rest. “Duel with swords, or practice shooting arrows?”

  Kylie shook her head, staring down at the line of knives. They looked medieval, all jagged with animals carved into the hilts.

  “I think I’d like to throw something,” she said.

  –––––

  For three days, we ran ourselves ragged, working on our tasks during the day and practicing our battle skills at night. Keegan stuck with an ax or a sword (pretty much anything you could swing) while Kylie worked with anything she could throw. Meanwhile, in typical knight fashion, I practiced with my sword, while Alexia tried all the weapons, finally deciding on the bow and arrows as her staple.

  On our third night, the Queen’s favored ladies came by to watch our progress, and I learned the other two’s names. The faerie with horns was Maya de Lume, the royal seamstress (Keegan dubbed her “Horny”), and the one with twigs for teeth was Maya de Livre, the royal storyteller (Keegan dubbed her “Scary Spice.”)

  Meanwhile, Alexia was putting her SAT prep to good use. “Music, clothing, and books,” she said, studying them with interest.

  “Wait. What?” Kylie said, pausing in mid-throw. I winced, afraid the knife would go shooting from her hand, but it didn’t. She was better at stopping momentum than I was.

  “Lyre, Lume, and Livre,” Alexia said. “You’re named after what you can do.”

  Maya de Lyre shook her golden head. The hair filtered around her, blending with the forest’s light. “We are named for our greatest passions,” she corrected. “And that which can best serve our Queen.”

  “Well, I think it’s fitting,” Alexia said. “More so than a Princess of the Dark Court named after the light.”

  “What?” I asked, swinging my sword left and right. Whenever I held it, I couldn’t help but swing it.

  “You didn’t know?” She looked at me. “Elora means light. In Greek.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Does it have to? They’re faeries,” Kylie said nervously. She must’ve noticed the way the ladies were scowling, thoroughly unnerved by the mention of the princess.