In that instant, I wouldn’t have taken his word about anything. If he’d said the sky was blue, I’d have looked up to check for myself.
“I’ll go when I’m satisfied my momma is okay. And not a minute sooner.”
“If she wanted to be with you, she wouldn’t have come to be with me,” he said.
I sucked in a breath. “What exactly are you sayin’?”
“You had your time with her. She raised you until you could live on your own. And then she left your world. As soon as she could, she came to me.”
My brows shot up and my stomach tightened. “She came looking for you, yeah. And I’m sure she knew it was risky. But since then, maybe she’s changed her mind about you and about being here. Sometimes feelings change. As a faery you should know that, since you guys are supposed to be the most fair-weather creatures of all.”
He scowled. “Marlee is not fae. Her feelings haven’t changed.”
“Well, I’ll hear that from her.”
“I won’t take you to her. It’s useless and dangerous.”
“It’s not useless.”
“It is! Because she won’t recognize you. She doesn’t remember the second half of the life she’s lived.”
“What?” I yelled.
“She’s under a curse.”
“What curse? Who cursed her?”
“The only one who could.”
“That bitch of a queen?”
He shot forward and covered my mouth, looking around. “Never say that again whilst in this place.”
I shouted against his hand, doing my own version of cursing someone.
“She’s not suffering. It’s not a punishment for her. If anything she’s happier. She doesn’t have to miss what she left outside.”
I relaxed my shoulders and spoke calmly against his hand.
He drew it back tentatively.
“Then why did the queen put the curse on her? If it’s not to punish her?”
“It’s not her punishment. It’s mine.”
“How? What do you care whether she remembers the second half of her life?”
He tipped his head back, and I saw that his eyes shone unnaturally bright. Maybe Kismet didn’t feel strong emotions, but our daddy apparently did.
“What?” I whispered.
“Her memories of us after the first summer have been taken away.”
“What memories? Are you saying you saw her again after that first summer?”
He nodded.
“When?” I demanded.
“Whenever I could.”
My jaw dropped. “How many times?”
“Five.” He shoved his hair back behind his ear and looked at me. “There are words I spoke to her, things I confided, which can’t be confided again. Do you understand? I risked the wrath of my queen. I gambled with my life just as Marlee gambled with hers to come here. We were united in our sacrifices and our commitment. I laid out the contents of my mind and heart so she could be my closest friend. That’s lost.”
“A curse can be undone.”
“Yes, but that won’t be soon. The queen’s punishments are never short.”
“You shouldn’t have kept this a secret from me. I came here to help.”
“You can’t help.”
“Yeah, I can.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. That’s what we’ve got to figure out. Sit down and tell me everything you know about this curse.”
“You don’t have the magic to undo it. Even if you had the full power of the fae in you, you couldn’t undo a queen’s curse. Your fae magic is only half, if that.”
“Kismet is half, like me. The queen couldn’t keep her from leaving. And so far she hasn’t been able to make her come back.”
“Eventually Kismet will be caught,” he said grimly.
“Maybe so. But she’s already proven the most important thing: A half-faery girl can defy a queen and get away with it. At least for a while. And that’s all I need. Just a chance.”
The pain in his expression drained away, replaced by surprise. He caught my face in his hands and kissed the top of my head. He pulled me toward him and whispered, “I can’t conspire against the queen. An oath I’ve made prevents it.”
“So I shouldn’t tell you anything that I plan to do? Or even that I plan to do something?”
“Right.”
“Well, that would’ve been nice to know earlier!”
He grinned.
“What are you smiling about? This could be a problem!”
He shrugged. “It’s just that you’re like us. Marlee and I never gave up. Stubborn and unflinching. Kismet has that fire. So do you. At the core, even on the darkest days and nights, we seek sunlight and have faith we’ll see it again. Within that common ground are the hidden roots of our small family.”
I cocked my head, my eyes widening with a dawning understanding. “You can’t claim Kismet, can you? That’s some other oath you had to make, right?”
He looked at me pointedly.
“As soon as you met me, you said right off I was your daughter. It’s not like you’re trying to keep being a dad a big secret. But you never told her or anyone about her being your daughter. It’s because you’re not allowed to tell anyone, isn’t it?”
His expression was carefully blank. “Kismet can shoot an arrow straight in high wind. When others cower at the cliffs, she leaps. No matter how deadly a target or how guarded the encampment she’s sent to, she returns alive. There is greatness in her, and all the Never knows it.”
“You’re proud of her.”
“I can’t express pride in her. I don’t claim the girl.”
I took a big breath in and then sighed, shaking my head. “You shouldn’t have made that deal. Whatever it was, you should never have agreed to it. You know that now, right?”
He opened his mouth and closed it again.
I put a hand on his chest over his heart. “Maybe you didn’t think you had a choice. And maybe you didn’t. I wasn’t there. And I’m not one to judge. Sometimes I’ve had to decide things on the spur of the moment and then see how things turned out. Life can be kind of unpredictable.”
He hugged me to him.
“Was that one of the things you got to tell Momma? Was there some loophole in the rules about what you could tell? And the queen closed it?”
He held me so tight he practically crushed my bones.
“Don’t worry,” I said, my eyes stinging with tears. I sniffed and bit my lip until I got hold of myself. “Don’t worry,” I repeated firmly. “You know what’s a secret weapon for finding loopholes? A lawyer. Luckily, I brought one with me.”
I started to speak, but stopped as magic flowed over me like a wave, salty and cool. I licked my lips, knowing Bryn had found his place in the sea.
I stilled, holding my breath. There’s my lawyer. Here’s hoping I can get him back from the deep end of the ocean.
22
CAEDRIN AND I talked it over, and we—well, I—decided that it would be best for Roseblade to take me to the castle to meet the queen, for several reasons. First, because I wanted Caedrin to find Zach and Mercutio, and possibly Bryn if he didn’t get back soon, so my guys would be seen by as few fae as possible. I wanted them together, too, if we needed to leave on the run. Second, I thought it would be better if Caedrin and I weren’t together when I met the queen, since she was prone to jealousy when it came to her knights. Or so I’d heard and sensed. Maybe she wouldn’t be angry to find that Caedrin had a new daughter that he’d kept hidden from her, and that I liked him and vice versa, but I thought I’d better not take a chance.
I bundled up pastries and loaded myself down with them. Caedrin gave me directions, but they weren’t as helpful as they’d have been in Duvall or even a place that I was vaguely familia
r with. “Veer left at the tallest oak along the way” just didn’t do me much good. But I had a plan. And the plan was to be friendly and ask directions in a stealthy way. “Have you seen Roseblade? Which way?” In my experience asking directions can be better than a map, because the best way to get to know a place is to get to know the people.
I walked what felt like a long way, following the sound of music and voices. There was singing, shouting, and laughter. When I emerged from the path to a clearing of rolling lawns, I’d found the faery festival. There were hundreds and hundreds of faeries scattered over the lawn, eating and drinking, joking and playing, dancing and performing. Some of their clothes were natural fabrics in earth tones like what the Native Americans had on in pictures you see in books. But then there were also those dressed in vibrant, bright outfits and costumes.
I followed a trail of rose petals and it led me to a booth with Roseblade’s picture painted on it. The young man who had followed us through the field of flowers was standing behind the counter, decorating straw hats and woven floral crowns with bits of carved bark and leaves that had been dipped in gold. He strung vines like boas and lengths of garland. Roses of every style and color seemed to be bursting from buckets in corners and on tables. It was more incredible than any flower shop I’d ever seen.
“Hi,” I said, taking out a cinnamon roll and offering it to him.
“Kismet! You are back.” He grabbed the pastry and took a bite. “Wow, which booth had these? Hey, I finished it. Did you get me the stones we talked about? And that headband, what’s it called again?”
“Osmet, I’m having a little problem with my memory. Kinda got zapped with a curse.”
“Bogus!” he said, which made me laugh. “And don’t call me Osmet. It’s Oz. Out there, there’s an entire storyland named after me, remember?”
I stared at him.
“The Wizard of Oz.”
I laughed. “That’s not named for you.”
“Yes, it is. You talked to a bard about me, and he wrote a whole story inspired by me.”
“Do you know what that story’s about?”
“A tree keeper’s son who goes on an adventure and saves a band of rebels from an evil wizard.”
I grinned. “Um, okay.”
“The story’s obviously about me. And where else would a bard have gotten the name Oz from?”
“If my momma had named me Star, it wouldn’t mean Star Wars was inspired by me, especially since I came after that was already written. And so did you, probably—come after The Wizard of Oz got made up.”
He frowned. “This problem with your memory sucks. Sucks is right, right? Yeah, it is. I probably remember better than you. Listen, have you got a small pouch on you? Full of five emeralds from that place . . . Colonia? The really hot, spicy place. Colombia! That’s it.”
“Why do you want Colombian emeralds?” I asked.
“To decorate my bandmanah.”
“Your what?”
“Bandmanah. The headband tough bikers wear.” He reached inside the pocket of his calfskin pants and unfolded a faded newspaper picture of a man on a Harley wearing a bandanna.
I giggled. “How come you want to dress like a biker? There are no motorcycles underhill, right?”
“No, not yet. Maybe there won’t be ever. But one day I’ll get out there, humanside, and I want to fit in. I want an American girlfriend, or one from London. Someone cool like you. Or like you usually are when you remember yourself.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Listen, I have Ozart for you. Come and see me when you remember. I have a special piece you wanted. You know, I’m not sure I like Ozart as the name for my stuff. It’s not very imaginative. Oz art. I’m thinking of calling them Fozzels. Understand?”
“No.”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Hey,” he said. “Are you playing with me right now? Practicing? You trick people with accents and clothes to fit in out there, humanside. Or so we’ve heard. But in here you’ve never performed.” He tore off another piece of cinnamon roll, a bite with lots of white icing. He chewed it and moaned. “Marbles and coins, that’s fantastic. Which booth is trading these?” he asked. “Hey, Rosebee!” he called. “Look who’s come to your stand!”
I turned, and Roseblade hurried over. She’d shortened her skirt somehow so that her dark green tights were displayed from the knees down. Her thin legs really did look like the stems of a rose.
“Hello! So, Kismet, you’ve met my cousin.” She looked at Oz. “Did you introduce yourself?”
“No, she knows me. Sort of.”
Roseblade tilted her head. I worried the weight of her swollen hair might tip her over, but her neck must’ve been used to the workout, because she didn’t wobble.
“Has her memory come back?”
“Definitely not.”
Roseblade looked at me. “Say something.”
“What should I say?”
She laughed. “That’s plenty. She’s so good at humanside voices, isn’t she? Like a chameleon. Or Gobus. He’s the best of the Seelie actors. He can do the talk of any people in any time! What’s in your sack? More pastries? May I have another?”
“Yep,” I said, reaching in. I gave her a chewy molasses walnut bar.
“They’re brilliant! Which is wonderful. Now the queen will have to consider letting you change your occupation, which is what you’ve wanted for a while,” Roseblade said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Or so we’ve heard it said.”
“The pastry was great. But don’t change professions, Kis. Then you wouldn’t have leave to go out there. You know you wouldn’t like being stuck inside the Never all the time. Or maybe you don’t know, with your damaged memory. But trust me, you wouldn’t. Humanside is the explosion!”
“The bomb,” I said.
He laughed. “She remembers a little.”
“Don’t interfere, Osmet!” Roseblade said. “We’re going to have grand parties. I’ve spoken to MagpieMeadow. She’s the queen’s tea maker. She’s said that if Kismet’s pastries are as good as I’ve proclaimed, she will blend and brew the tea for our first party. It will be so grand!” Roseblade threw her arms wide, and I couldn’t help but crack up. Even though I couldn’t trust her and didn’t plan to stay in the Never long enough to throw parties, a part of me felt like that was too bad, because her enthusiasm was fun.
“I’ve picked out the paper for the invitations! Gorwrit has the best new stock and ink. It really—”
“Before all that, shouldn’t I go and see the queen?” I asked.
“Sunrise sunblind! Yes! In my excitement, I almost forgot. We should go before too many words have been carried about your return. We won’t want her to feel she’s been kept waiting!”
I nodded.
Roseblade glanced around the stand. “Give me the queen’s crystal white, Osmet. This instant.”
Oz reached under the fabric covering the table, and rose with a box. Roseblade peeked in and smiled.
“All right. Off we go.”
I licked my lips and wondered what would happen when the queen saw me. Would she know that I wasn’t Kismet returned with amnesia? Crux said he’d sent word about finding Kismet’s twin. But Caedrin didn’t think the queen knew about me. Was it because she really didn’t? Or because she’d kept that news a secret for some dark purpose of her own?
* * *
THE PATH TO the castle was paved with dark and light pebbles arranged in perfect patterns like mosaic tile, except they hadn’t been glued down. When we walked over them, our feet kicked up some of the stones and knocked them out of place.
“Uh-oh,” I said, starting to turn to fix the design.
“No, no,” Roseblade said as a buzzing insect flew in. An instant later the pebbles were back in place.
I squinted and realized the insects were a
ctually tiny pixies. “Wow.”
“Keepers of the queen’s path,” Roseblade said. “You shouldn’t handle their stones. They don’t like it. Small fae are very touchy. They can’t lift boulders or so much as a cabbage, but they can do the most amazing detail work, and it infuriates them when a large fae tries to do it, too. They want to think none can do intricate designs as well as they.”
“Oh. Okay. I won’t mess with their rocks. And they sure did do a pretty job.”
“Wait until we get to the welcome way,” Roseblade crowed. “When it was announced that I would be made queen’s first maiden, they—No, I won’t say. Just wait.”
We walked on and eventually the path widened and revealed the front of the castle. The pebbles in the border as we neared the entry were tiny chips of marble and tiny nuggets of gold.
The section closest to the door had pastels, but the pieces weren’t heavy like rock. When we walked, they floated up and drifted down.
I paused, skidding my foot forward to watch the soft, feathery wafers rise.
“They’re rose petals! They requested two hundred roses, which I provided, and they cut tiny petals. See the design pattern? Crowns of roses.”
My jaw dropped. “It really is the most amazing thing.”
When we stood on the castle steps, I turned and watched the tiny pixies, whose features were too small to make out from a few feet away, buzz back and forth.
“There’s an amusement park called Disney World where there are no trash Dumpsters. Or so I’ve heard. They keep everything spotless and take the trash underneath so everything looks pretty and nice. But even the Disney team never had a crew like this. The Never is like Disney World. Only more incredible.”
“I’ve heard of Disney,” Roseblade said, wrinkling her nose. “His picture plays are famous, right? And his festival lands? But you can’t expect anything humanside to be more impressive than the Never. We’re the original, after all. The inspiration for everything he’s ever done.”
I smiled. I couldn’t dispute that Mr. Disney had been inspired by faery tales, but to say fae like Roseblade were the inspiration for all he did was taking a crazy amount of credit for things. I doubted Mr. Disney had ever even met a real faery.
Casually Cursed Page 19
