by Kate Kelley
“Thank you, Cook. You’re a wonder,” Lyra said with an incline of her head.
“You be careful, now, and don’t hurt that pretty golden head of yours.” Cook arched a disapproving eyebrow at her. He didn’t know what she was doing, but he knew that she left and came back looking more haggard each time. Lyra loved his warm way with her, the fatherly way he treated her, and the way he allowed her to mingle in the kitchen on her whim. Since she’d first arrived, she loved to pop in and see what Cook was making, and note the recipes for later. She missed cooking, truthfully. That was something she could look forward to going back to her Aunt’s house.
“I will, Cook,” she promised before she retreated. And she meant it. She didn’t want to start any trouble with the Fae, or any other magical creature in Eclipsa. She hoped their journey would prove successful.
Freydis, Alec, and Terrin huddled close by the throne room hearth, Terrin spotting Lyra first as she made her way to them. She looked away from him, her eyes landing on Alec.
“Terrin wants me to stay behind,” Alec said to her, as if she would have an opinion on it. She did, as it happened, and would feel much safer if Terrin came along, but she didn’t want Terrin to know that. She looked at Frey, who shifted lithely from one foot to another, as if stretching her legs.
“I was thinking, Frey, do you think I could transport us straight to the Fae river door?”
Freydis smiled at her as if she were a child. “Yes, Lyra. You can transport wherever your heart desires with the pendant, granted there’s a physical portal in place.”
Lyra nodded, partly assured. “Then I’ll certainly try.”
Terrin took the jar from her hands without a word and placed it into his satchel as if it was no heavier than a candlestick. She hated it when he was chivalrous.
“Iris is coming!” Alec warned in a whisper. They bolted to the portal room, Freydis and Lyra finding the obsidian. Freydis’ small hand clasped her wrist while a warm hand found her waist, seering her through her skirt. She had no doubt as to whose hand it belonged to.
She clutched the pendant and closed her eyes, picturing the flowing currents of water and the ghostly door that hovered over it when the glamour was revealed.
She felt that familiar vacuum and her feet leaving solid ground. She catapulted into space, the world around her a dark blue with stars shining through.
When they landed, Terrin was hugging Lyra to his chest and Frey was still clutching her wrist. They separated and Lyra turned toward the rushing sound of fast water.
Her eyes landed on an apparition of a door floating above the currents, veiled in moonlight.
“I told you so,” Frey said with a twist of her lips. Lyra couldn’t form a word, so she laughed instead. Terrin shook his head slowly, a strange curious light in his eyes. He looked at Lyra and then at her pendant. Lyra inspected it herself, as if seeing it anew.
Frey was already getting ready to get into the water, preparing to swim toward the door, when someone began singing. The lilting, pure voice carried through the calm night like a taraxacum sailing along the wind, searching for a place to land. Lyra and Frey froze, tilting their ears to pinpoint the direction of the singer. A splash turned their head. Moonlight flooded Terrin as he swam toward the center of the river, his arms stroking hard and his aura calming the currents to slow, steady streams.
“Can he see the door?” Frey asked, frowning.
“He could never see glamours before,” Lyra responded slowly. “Who’s that singing…?”
They watched as Terrin swam straight through the door, his speed consistent.
“Terrin!” Lyra called after him, but he didn’t respond. Frey didn’t waste any more time.
She dove into the water and began swimming after him. Lyra cursed the dress she wore. She hiked it up to her waist and tied it so that it wouldn’t weigh her legs down as she swam. Since Terrin had calmed the waters, the swim wasn’t as arduous, but she still could not match her companions’ paces. It was a solid five minutes before she reached the other side, her muscles and insides liquid. Water was not her friend.
Terrin sat on his heels, in a position more vulnerable than Lyra had ever seen, his head bent down toward the glistening, dark water. Lyra stared for a moment before a woman appeared, fair skinned with stark black hair slicked down her back. She waded in the water as she looked up at Terrin, her elbows resting on a fallen log. Her chest was bare, with small, perky breasts on display in the orb of night’s effulgence.
Strange custom…
The strange woman’s down-turned eyes lit up as she listened and spoke to Terrin. Her wide mouth broke into a brilliant smile more than a few times.
Do they know each other?
Terrin’s hair covered his face, so that Lyra couldn’t tell what he was thinking or saying. As if on cue, the woman lifted her milky white arm and tucked Terrin’s hair behind his ear, giving Lyra a view of his face.
He was positively bedazzled by the woman, his mouth upturned in a smile more often than not, his expression carefree and even happy.
A stab of hot rage seared her within, and she picked up her pace. When she reached the pair, Freydis was at her back. The two of them stared down at the woman.
“Step away from the river Siren, Terrin. It will only be trouble for you,” Frey said, her voice light, but a deep warning underlied the implorement. Lyra inhaled sharply.
Freydis tugged suddenly on Lyra’s arm, spinning her. “Do you like women?” she asked, urgently.
Lyra’s head felt too full. She dragged her gaze from Terrin.“What?” she asked, staring blankly at Freydis.
Freydis rolled her eyes. “Do you like women? Sexually? Romantically?”
Lyra blinked and looked to see Terrin wasn’t listening to them at all or had any clue why Freydis asked such a question.
She turned back to Freydis. “No…?” she answered tentatively.
Freydis nodded, relieved. “Good, then the siren won’t affect you.”
“What does it want?” Lyra asked, her voice low.
Freydis stared at the creature as if it were horrifically disgusting and not breathtakingly beautiful as it was. “They lure men into their depths and kill them. For food.”
Lyra gaped. She swirled and grabbed hold of Terrin’s arm. He looked up at her, blinking as if confused as to why she was there.
“Terrin, we have to leave. Now,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, that’s too bad,” the Siren said, her voice sweet and high pitched and utterly feminine.
Lyra turned toward her, taking in her features. Curling, long lashes framed wide, slightly downturned eyes, making her appear innocent and doe-like. The moon was bright and blue, revealing even the dusting of auburn freckles across her dainty, upturned nose, Her mouth, a deep blooming rose color, were swollen as if she had just been thoroughly kissed. She quirked her head suddenly at Lyra, causing her to flinch back at the sudden movement.
“I’m glad you’re well,” the Siren said, and it took a moment for Lyra to realize she spoke to her.
“Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled in reply. Frey was clutching Terrin’s arm and pulling, but Terrin wasn’t budging. He continued to stare down at the siren in awe, his pupils dilated, his eyes glossy.
The Siren raised her hands up, revealing short, albeit sharp black claws on the ends of delicate fingers. “I don’t want to keep you. My name is Salix, by the way,” she said, again, to Lyra. Lyra smiled tightly and nodded, then glared at Freydis.
Freydis pulled on Terrin’s arm, who resisted again, his arm like steel.
“Terrin. We have to go,” Lyra shouted. He looked up at her, blinking slowly.
“Oh, here,” Salix said, as if just remembering something, “have him eat some Buttonbush to dispel the enchantment. I didn’t sing for too long, once I realized there were humans about, but he is a bit fuzzy headed at the moment.” She held up a small white sphere with tiny spires sticking out around it.
“You didn’t mean to
entrap him?” Lyra asked, eyeing the plant carefully.
“Goodness, no!” The siren said, her face aghast. “I don’t eat men, not like the lore says. We’ve largely moved away from that practice, though there are some tribes who still practice man catching. The problem is, we don’t see humans anymore, so they have to use man-like creatures--elves, trolls, Fae--and they don’t taste quite as good, you see.”
Lyra stared.
Salix nudged her head with her fingertips. “Oh, I’m mucking this up. Terrin, would you kindly explain? And please, eat this. It works quickly.”
Freydis shrugged. “Buttonbush is a legitimate antidote to Siren hypnosis.” She snatched the plants and pushed it into Terrin’s mouth, who thoughtfully chewed it. By the time he had swallowed, his eyes were clear. He cleared his throat and stood.
“I was speaking to Salix about recruiting other magical creatures to fight on our side. She said her family and a lot of other creatures along the river would be eager to side with us against Ganymede who trapped their ancestors here and used many as familiars, sucking their powers away. She agreed to recruit and spread the word along the river banks.”
Lyra’s eyes shot up in surprise.
“Is that wise? What if Ganymede gets wind of what we’re doing?” Freydis asked.
Terrin shrugged. “It’s of no consequence. They’ll come at us regardless, and we have to fight back, with creatures of the same caliber, and we need to act fast. What other option do we have?”
Lyra and Freydis were in silent agreement.
“Can we trust her?” Lyra asked, refusing to meet Salix’s gaze. Terrin quirked an eyebrow at her. “She saved your life last when you were in these waters and drowning from a horde of water nymphs. She pulled you up and directly into my arms. I think you of all people can trust her.”
Lyra’s jaw slung open and she turned to Salix. “You did that?”
Salix nodded, a shyness overtaking her features. “I don’t much like the water nymphs myself.”
Lyra smiled. “Neither do I. I must thank you.” She inclined her head toward the Siren, who returned her smile with one far more brilliant. Lyra noticed her canines were slightly longer and sharper than a human’s.
“I’ll do my best to gather folks, and try to meet you back here soon.” Salix said, as she nodded at Terrin and Freydis before flipping toward the deeper water, a charcoal colored caudal fin rising lazily from the water, followed by the undulation of a cartilaginous tail covered in shiny, deep emerald scales. She dove under the water with preternatural grace and speed, swimming away from them down the length of the river.
Chapter Sixteen
When they landed in the Fae forest, their clothes dripped. Lyra’s skirt was sopping wet and clinging to her legs. She tried to ring out as much as possible but the heavy material held onto the water like a sponge. She turned to Frey. “What does my hair look like?”
Frey gave her a once over. Somehow her own trousers, shirt and vest weren’t looking as frumpled as her own clothes. “Turn around.”
Lyra did as she was told and Frey combed through Lyra’s hair with her fingers, then twisted it into a single braid that hung down her back.
They followed an invisible path through the deep wood that Freydis alone seemed to know, stopping after thirty minutes of travel. Luminescent moths stretched their wide, softly-curved wings as they landed on the trunks of trees, their fuzzy bodies as big as newborn kittens. They lit the way when the canopy of tree branches hid their sky light. Various sounds filled the silence, sounds that were neither a threat nor needed explanation. They were simply animal noises, noises they’d all heard before, echoing and flute-like, keening at times, but oddly comforting. Frey’s glamour dome protected them.
The moon shone through a wide gap in the thick, twisting branches high above them. Mushrooms the size of Lyra’s head and greater, glowed a dull, vernal green, dotting the ground on either side of a long blanket of moss that extended several feet in front of them toward a tree so giant, Lyra mistook it for a house. The thickest part of the trunk must have been as big around as the circumference of a considerable pond. Roots reached out of the ground at its base like knotted ribbons. Freydis walked forward and placed a hand the trunk of the tree, the bark sparking blue at the touch and coalescing into a wooden door. Frey opened it with a swing of her arm, and she motioned them through with a jab of her head.
The inside was breathtaking. The first thing that greeted them was a round room with a winding staircase in the middle that disappeared into the tops of the inner tree. Upper balconies, their bannisters wound with some sort of twine that emitted lights like stars, lit the odd sanctuary. A series of wooden doors wrapped around the bottom floor of the room.
They walked across a surprisingly smooth marble floor to a door on the other side of the room. There was no there to greet them or stop them. Freydis opened the door and inside was another, smaller circular room with wooden chairs and a table in the center. There were bookshelves built into the wall filled with leather bound volumes. Lyra suspected this was a room for either dining or meeting. Another door to the left opened, a redheaded Fae woman standing with her mouth open staring at Freydis. Her eyes flicked to Lyra and then to Terrin. Her gaze lingered on him before returning to Freydis.
“You’re alive,” the woman said flatly.
Freydis smiled, and it didn’t reach her eyes. “Nice to see you too, Faun.”
Faun smirked, her wide lips curling at the corners. “Did you bring humans here?”
Frey gestured to Lyra and Terrin. “This is Lyra, and Prince Terrin.”
Faun’s gaze flicked over Lyra and landed squarely on Terrin, a curious light in her amber eyes as they trailed over his body in an obvious perusal.
She winked at Terrin before returning her gaze to Frey. “Are you here for the coronation celebrations?” she asked as her eyes pulled back toward Terrin as if she couldn’t help it. Lyra rolled her eyes.
“I didn’t realize Zuri would accept,” Freydis said, her eyebrows raised high on her forehead.
“Really, Frey? It’s Zuri. Queen Zuri, now. Better show some respect when you greet her. And I’m really not sure she’ll be happy about two humans being brought here. Just a warning.”
“They’re out back I reckon,” Freydis drawled.
Faun nodded, her eyes darting back to Terrin. “Wait, let me join you. My work is about done here anyway.” She gestured to a large pile of scrolls atop a desk in the room behind her.
Freydis shrugged. “Sort of unlike you, but as long as you don’t get in my way, it’s fine by me.”
They wound through several circular rooms until they came to what Lyra suspected was a back door. When they slipped out, they were greeted with pure, dazzling magic.
They were in a large clearing, the grass soft and lush as carpet, with luminescent mushrooms dotting the perimeter of the clearing near the forest edge.Three giant bonfires set inside limestone pits formed a wide triangle, the fires roaring high into the sky, the embers glowing and swirling into the warm air like tiny orange-red Fae zipping into the night. Music, the likes of which Lyra had never heard before, beat out a swift and hearty tune. Wood, percussion, and string formed a symphony for dancing, which was what most Fae were currently engrossed in. Their bodies swayed and tapped and twirled to the music, silhouetted in the fire’s light as they added their own natural sounds to the rhythm--clapping, stomping, singing.
Lyra followed the embers’ trail upward until her eyes snagged on more lights high into the thick trees. The same vernal luminescence of the mushrooms marked many of the twisting branches, lighting what appeared to be paths to swinging bridges connecting between trees and houses that were built into the bases of the limbs. Lyra’s gaze traveled outward, deeper into the forest, where the lights extended. She gasped and covered her mouth as a laugh erupted from her. The tree houses expanded to every single tree Lyra could see. It was like something out of a fable.
“Where’s the new queen?”
Terrin asked, his voice muffled underneath the sharp sounds of a fiddle and the raucous echoes of laughter.
Freydis scanned the wild Fae, until she extended her pointer finger toward the right side of the clearing to a long table overspilling with loose bouquets of fresh flowers, glowing mushrooms, candles, and antlers.
Several Fae sat in chairs behind it, eating an array of fresh fruits, plants, and smoked meats. A tall, dark skinned woman sat in the middle on a slightly larger chair, her head adorned with a crown of voluminous, red flowers. They approached in a group of four, weaving their way through drunk, jouncing Fae. One Fae man with a crossbow over his chest and dark hair covering one eye gave Lyra a lascivious grin and winked. Lyra crept closer to Frey.
At about five feet away, the table’s chatter died down to a whisper, then to an abrupt silence. The woman in the middle of the table tilted her chin up, her gaze piercing Freydis, then sliding to Lyra and lingering. She ignored Terrin and Faun.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Freydis?” The woman had a deep, strong, commanding voice. Her skin tone, though dark, was cool, her face utterly unlined. Her nose was wide, as were her high cheekbones that swept up to her dark eyes. Her lips were like pillows, at the moment downturned in derision. Her face was unpainted, the natural beauty of her features making her striking to behold. Her hair was rolled into thin locs, falling straight down each side of her head and disappearing behind the table while the red rose crown complimented the dark color. She wore a silver gown, sleeveless and tied around her neck loosely, the color accentuating the cool tones in her skin.
“I’ve come to discuss something private with you, Zuri” Freydis said to the woman.
“Queen Zuri to you,” the woman snapped.
Right, this wasn’t going to be easy.
Freydis inclined her head but her eyes hardened. Zuri tapped long nails on the table, sucking in her cheeks. Finally she waved her hand in a dismissal. “Go on, I’ll speak to them in private.” The people at her table stood, casting sidelong glances at them before joining their friends in dancing.
