My name is Mistress Galadria Pennyroyal of the Seelie Clan. I am the fifth daughter of Lord and Lady Pennyroyal, and I will be exchanged, scratch that, was to be exchanged in a ceremony a week from today. A daughter of the Seelie given for a daughter of the Unseelie as a contract to continue the Peace. Now I’m just some dumb fey girl masquerading as human, who exchanged a life of privilege for a bloody mouth and nowhere safe to sleep.
A wet nose on my hand interrupted my pity party. It was the black dog. I had stopped walking and had dropped my sleeping bag on the sidewalk and was staring off into a cemetery. The dog sat back on his haunches and looked up at me. He resembled a black German shepherd but had one gray ear.
I pushed my sleeping bag up against the fence and sat on it; the dog lay down next to me. I reached over and let him smell my hand, then scratched him on the head.
“So you are my savior tonight.”
The dog, of course, said nothing.
“You can call me Gala; what name should I call you?”
He put his head down but kept his eyes on me.
“I’ll just call you Dog for now. I’m too tired to think and I still need to find a place to sleep.”
Dog got up and looked toward the cemetery.
“Good idea. The dead can’t hurt me, and if you sleep next to me I won’t be too scared.”
We got up and went in. I found a caretaker shack, which was locked. Fortunately, there was a garden hose we could both drink from and I washed the blood out of my mouth. We located a soft but dry patch of grass behind a nearby mausoleum and I got in my bag. Dog lay down on top of the bag next to me; I probably fell asleep immediately.
The next day I woke up to the sound of church bells. I really wanted to get more sleep but I didn’t think I could stay here.
“What’s for breakfast, Dog?”
He cocked his head and looked at me.
“I guess we’ll have the candy bar.”
I offered to share it with him but he sniffed it and declined. Then I shook out the sleeping bag, rolled it up, and went over to the shack to get some water. I took off my hoodie and tee shirt, leaving me in a bra. I was sixteen, but as a fey girl I looked like a ten-year-old human child. I guessed I couldn’t get a job in a bar or busk for my supper in Piccadilly Square, another kink in my plans.
My hair was stark white and my eyes were purple. I had considered dyeing my hair to blend in with the humans but discovered that some of the human children would bleach their hair white, so I just cut my hair and pulled it back in a ponytail. I pretended I had purple contacts if anyone asked about my eyes.
I washed my filthy hair with a little shampoo I still had and used the lather to clean my face. I debated stripping down and washing the rest of my body. Dog would be standing nearby and if anyone saw me they would just see a naked girl whose skin was more peach colored than a sallow pink like most Britons. I hated how sticky and disgusting I felt.
“Okay, Dog, be a gentleman and turn around.”
I quickly peeled off my jeans and underwear and washed the rest of me. The water was cold but it felt good. I dried off with my T-shirt and pulled my last clean shirt, socks, and underwear out of my backpack and put them on. I combed out my hair and looked at my dirty clothes.
I thought that life with freedom from responsibility would be wonderful. I would make money by playing my flute and wander from town to town, meeting interesting people, and seeing the world. Instead I met thieves, rapists, and an endless parade of homeless people who were half crazy and often addicted to herbal intoxicants. It wasn’t paradise for those without homes and no one to love them; it was a sewer with rats. If you were lucky a dog might take pity on you. I looked over at Dog, who was still looking the other way.
“This is ridiculous. I feel like a fool. You know what, Dog? I’m going to have to go home.”
He turned around and woofed in what I would swear was agreement.
“Do you want to come with me?”
Another woof and a hearty wag of the tail.
I laughed and threw my dirty clothes into a nearby garbage bin full of old flowers. I had to put the muddy jeans back on. I then tied my hoodie around my waist, but decided to leave my sleeping bag at the door of the shack. Maybe someone like me would see it and need some warmth.
“I think you need a better name.” I said, as I put my pack on and tightened the straps. “I’m going to call you Galahad, after my favorite knight.”
He made a small noise that sounded like a harrumph and cocked his head.
“Galadria and Galahad, sounds a little dorky, does it not?”
He snorted and walked over to me, did a headbutt to my hip, and trotted away.
I followed him out of the graveyard and then took the lead. We were headed to the oldest oak tree in London.
Methuselah’s Oak was located in Hampton Court Park. The Royal Botanical Society estimated its age as 750 years, and has protected it from being cut down. Ancient oak trees are portals in and out of the fey world. This oak was a wide, gnarled giant that looked like it was split down the middle with an expanse of grass parting the two sides. A fey only needed to walk between and utter a short cantrip to travel to an identical tree on the Otherside.
Galahad and I walked up to the tree and I put my hands on the trunk. Instantly I felt homesick.
“Are you sure you want to come with me?”
He nudged my hand with his nose and licked it. I took that as doggy agreement and I led him into the middle of the tree. Then I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him, closed my eyes, and said the necessary words. I felt a warm shiver run through us and then opened my eyes.
The fey world looks very similar to the human world. Our buildings have our own style, but the landscape is basically the same as it was a century ago when Merlin created this pocket of safety.
“What do you think, Galahad?”
He looked around and then looked back at me.
“Well, I suppose we should head for my parents’ home. It’s a few hours from here and I’ve got that much time to craft an apology or a really good lie.”
We walked for a while down a dirt road, cut across some fields, and got water from a brook. Galahad caught a fish and ate it. Apples and plums were plentiful. They tasted sweeter and juicier than I remembered. Perhaps it was the naturally beautiful state of my own world that made me think the human world would be just as lovely. I knew very little about our larger cities though and it made me wonder if they too had homeless and ill people living on the streets.
I talked to Galahad along the way and voiced my fear that the Unseelie Court would be a lonely place where everyone would shun me. He said nothing more than a small woof or chuff as we moved along.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, Galahad, but I promise that at the very least, if the Unseelie Court is too dangerous, I will have my older sister Gisele take care of you.”
He barked and ran a circle around me. I laughed for the first time in over a month.
Just before we merged onto another road I stopped behind a stone wall to relieve myself. Once I emerged I looked around but didn’t see Galahad anywhere. Instead I saw a pixie sitting on an old stump nearby.
“Excuse me. Have you seen a black dog?”
The pixie pointed toward a field of tall corn and the remains of an old brick farmstead.
“He ran that way chasing a jackrabbit,” he replied in a small voice.
“Thanks.” I answered with a respectful bob of my head. “Galahad!” I called out.
I got no response so I walked across the road and called again; still no response. The old home looked completely abandoned with the roof caving in. I hoped he hadn’t gone inside. I went around the house and called out again. I heard a footstep and turned around, then someone grabbed me and put a foul-smelling rag over my face.
I had a pounding headache and winced as I tried to turn my head. It was dark outside and it took me a moment to remember talking to a pixie and then being grabbed. I decide
d to be as quiet as possible until I figured out where I was. I seemed to be on the ground with my hands and feet tied and a rag around my mouth. I blinked a few times and adjusted to night vision. I could see a small campfire nearby and two forms sitting near it. They were talking.
“He should have returned by now,” said the first.
“Mmm. Even with the dark he had plenty of time to get there and back twice,” came the answer.
They definitely sounded like either brownies or redcap. Most likely redcaps, since brownies stayed clear of treachery while redcaps reveled in chaos.
“She’s small. Maybe we should carry her to Har-wick’s house.”
“If he doesn’t come back soon with Weed and his cart, we’ll need to slit her throat and take off.”
“Aye, that.”
I swallowed hard and tested my bonds. They were well tied. Then a whisper brushed my ear.
“Stay still and quiet.”
My heart jumped in fear, but whoever it was sliced the bonds on my wrists and put a dagger in my hand. Then I heard an odd sound, like the folding of spellwork, and a large form sailed over me and into the bigger of the two redcaps. Just like what Dog, I mean Galahad, had done in London.
Both redcaps squealed in fright as Galahad wrestled one to the ground. I worked quickly to get my gag off and my ankle ropes cut. I heard a scream and a crack, then fierce growling. I approached the fire with the knife in my hand and saw one redcap dead on the ground, his throat ripped out. The other one was facing down Galahad with a knife of his own, a bigger, more vicious looking knife. Neither looked at me, and the redcap charged at Galahad, who leapt forward to meet the attack. The redcap rolled on the ground under him and out of reach, then somersaulted backward and landed on the dog’s back. Galahad twisted and rolled but the redcap sunk a knife in his chest and I gasped.
The redcap got up in a flash and came running toward me. I gripped the hilt of my dagger and dodged off to the side as he met me. He tumbled forward and I threw myself to where I knew he would be when he rolled up to leap again. My dagger sunk into his gut and I swiftly decked him across the nose with my freehand. He screamed in pain; the nose of a redcap is large and sensitive like the bullocks of a boy, and the sound was strangely satisfying. I grabbed his wrist and pulled my dagger out of his gut, then sliced his throat along the jugular. I was panting and shaking as I did the deed.
“By the stars, Gala, you are better at offense than defense.”
I plucked the knife from the redcap’s fist and took a look at the other guy. His knife was on the ground. I picked up that one too and went over to where Galahad was lying on the ground.
Galahad was dressed in black leathers, a black shirt, and long coat. His black hair was wild looking, with a streak of white on one side. He smiled with a big wolfy grin despite the obvious pain he was in. I dropped the knives and went down on my knees next to him. I moved the hand that covered the wound in his chest aside.
“Should I call you Dog, Galahad, or do you go by another name?” I asked as I examined the wound under his shirt.
“You may know me as Black Shuck, but you can call me what you like.”
I knew the name Black Shuck. Sir Black Shuck, Knight of the Unseelie Clan. Courtier to Queen Tatiana ; was it possible the Queen knew I was gone?
He winced when I probed the flesh a bit, “I have healing skills. Please take a breath and then let it out.”
He did as he was asked. “I do not hear the rattle of a punctured lung. How do you feel?”
“Tired.”
“What about the pain? Is it burning, throbbing or stinging? ”
“Burning.”
“I need a minute. Stay there and breathe deeply; try to relax.” He did as he was told and I looked around the area. I located a spiderweb, an oak leaf, and fresh feverfew. The redcaps had a flask of whiskey that smelled fairly decent. I went back to Sir Black and knelt down.
“Okay, hold still.”
I laid my cheek on his bared chest, just touching the wound, took a deep breath, and hummed as I breathed out. I felt blood bubble up to my cheek. Then I sat up and poured whiskey on the leaf, then spread the spiderweb on it, placing it web side down on the wound. I put my cheek back on the wound, and hummed again. He sighed in relief. I poured some more whiskey on the feverfew before handing it to him.
“Put this in your cheek and chew it slowly, but don’t swallow it.”
Again, he did as he was told and I closed up his shirt and my hand over it, then took a deep breath and hummed a short cantrip.
“That feels amazingly good.”
“Can you get up?”
He nodded and I helped him get to his feet.
“Can you walk?”
He moved around a bit.
“I can.”
“Would you rather do it in dog form?”
“I don’t feel strong enough to shift. This will have to do.”
I gave him back his dagger, and put one of the redcap’s knives in my hood, the whiskey in my pocket, and the other knife through a belt loop. I checked the stars and looked around.
“What did they want with me?”
“The pixie confessed to being part of a slaver ring just before I broke his neck.”
“Eew.”
“Eew? You just cut the throat of a redcap.”
“You ripped out the throat of the other one first.”
We looked at each other and then I laughed nervously. He put his hand on my shoulder and then hugged me.
“It’s good to be alive. Don’t waste another thought on them.”
I let him hug me for a minute and then broke away.
“Do you have any idea where we are?”
“Yes. Down this road is a bridge. If we cut across the field past it there’s an inn not too far away.”
We walked the road quickly and in silence. The full moon had been a blessing, but if someone were looking for us it would also be a curse. Once we passed the bridge and started across the field, we stopped and I checked his wound.
“Can I spit this out now?”
“Yes. How do you feel?”
“A little dizzy, a little pain, but otherwise fine.”
“The feverfew can take away most pain. Want some of the whiskey?”
“No, let’s get to the inn first.”
He led us across the field and to the dirt road. It was a bit cold and he stumbled a little, probably dehydrated and tired, so I put my arm around his and walked closer.
“Can I ask you why you ran away?”
I thought for a moment. It was a question I had given a lot of thought to when I was sleeping on the ground, meeting people who wanted to steal my meager belongings and skipping showers. I really hated skipping showers.
“Gala?”
“It’s a hard question.”
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“No, I want to tell you. It all kind of started when my dad accepted the request for one of his daughters to be a royal hostage. I was excited at first, but then my Uncle Felix came over to discuss it with Father and Mother. He was saying how I would be the most suitable. I was a bad choice for Seelie marriage because I’m not a proper lady.”
“What did your parents say?”
“They agreed.”
“I see.”
We walked in silence for a few minutes.
“I think I could have put up with that, except my sisters were telling me how I’d have to live with crazy deformed people and sadists. Then they said I would be expected to marry into my foster family someday.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t want to marry a sadist, or someone crazy for that matter.”
“I know the Unseelie are not all crazy, just like the Seelie are not all beautiful. It’s just that I’ve never wanted to marry anyone. I want to apprentice with a master healer and become one someday.”
“A noble profession.”
“Not if my foster family won’t permit me.”
“I see the problem.�
��
“My turn to ask a question.”
“Yes?”
“Were you sent to find me?”
“I was.”
“By my family?”
“By your foster family, actually.”
I stopped in my tracks and he faced me.
“Why would they want to find me? They don’t even know me.”
“The request upon your family was no mistake. The queen knows all her subjects and takes an interest in the royal families of Seelie. You were sought out because our best seer saw that you would be a great asset to our clan.”
I thought for a minute. “But it was the choice of my father as to whom he would send as hostage.”
“Yes, and we thought it would be you, but once you ran the request would fall on one of your sisters. That is not in the queen’s plans.”
“Then why not just ask for me?”
“The seer sees what he sees. He foresaw that you would need to run away, decide to come home, and be ready for your legacy.”
“Isn’t a legacy nullified if I know about it?”
“Apparently not in this case.”
“What else do you know?”
“Nothing I can share.”
“You were more fun as a dog,” I said as I started to walk again. He laughed and caught up to me.
“I hear that quite a bit.”
The inn was in sight and we slowed a little. I almost didn’t want to stop walking, but his wound would need tending and we were exhausted.
One week later
My parents had been more relieved than angry, especially when Sir Black Shuck of the Unseelie Court made it clear that Queen Tatiana would be expecting me well rested at the exchange ceremony. Now I stood in line outside the throne room to be given by my queen to the Unseelie queen in exchange for one of their children as a peace hostage. I was dressed in purple to match my eyes and had orchids woven into my hair.
My father escorted me to the throne of Queen Mab where we both bowed and her chancellor announced us.
“Lord Percival Pennyroyal and his daughter Galadria.”
Courts of the Fey Page 11
