by C. Gockel
Troy might, but he might also turn from the search once his curiosity over the events was sated. He had never made a secret of the fact that he believed the doctor to be dead or about to die and his motivation, more than saving her, seemed to be understanding what had happened.
So, in fact, she couldn’t turn back. Not really. Not if she wanted to be able to look into a mirror and meet her own eyes. She couldn’t buy a safe life at such a price.
“Warning noted. Also noted that you didn’t really have to give it.” She smiled, a tiny little thing that, she hoped, would tell him thank you when her words shouldn’t. “I’m still going to try. I need to do it. So, what’s this next clear step? I gathered we’re going for the courts… Winter?”
“Winter might have been attempting to help the doctor, but I would not take you to them. It is but the name one mortal poet gave them, but it was bestowed because winter is a time of darkness, of culling, of death. In far older times, it was called the Unseelie, which incidentally is the name the Queen prefers. In modern English, it would translate loosely as ‘unblessed’ and it is a name well earned. We should turn to the Seelie. Heat and fire kill as surely as a blizzard, but I like the chances better.”
“I’m not sure it’s smart to turn to the bad guys. If the redcaps were the good ones…”
“Do not oversimplify, Lily. We do not know the truth yet. How can you pass judgment on whose side was in the wrong? The answer, most likely, is both.”
“Just saying. If winter… the Unseelie court sided with Grandma, won’t they assume we did too?”
“Ah, the Unseelie court sided with the doctor, yes, but who did the doctor side with?”
“This is another mumbo-jumbo of word usage and twisted meaning, isn’t it? Like, you can choose who you ally yourself with but you can’t choose who will ally with yourself?”
“Of course. In short, simple terms, it means that since the doctor is still alive, it is reasonable to assume the Seelie are not quite as sure as you about her being their enemy, so they may consider you a potential asset. Even if they do not, their uses for pretty little mortals include entertainment, pleasure and servitude… They would hardly feed on you.”
Lily felt a wave of nausea at his off-hand comment and, given the way his eyes darted to her and widened, she guessed she must have paled quite a bit.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Really. I just wasn’t expecting to hear the possible bad outcomes spelled out in so many words.”
“Was my choice of words too crass for the lady?” he said with a teasing smirk.
“To be honest, I think you couldn’t be crass if you tried.” When she smiled back, she was surprised to feel the gesture natural in spite of the topic.
Troy’s smirk turned mischievous and his eyes darkened to the murky green of moss and still waters untouched by the sun. “Oh, I assure you I could,” he said.
She blushed. How could she not? In that moment, he wasn’t looking at her as if she were a clueless little mortal girl.
Then, his expression shifted into something more open, less dangerous, and the effect was gone as quick as it had come over her.
“There is another reason that inclines me to think you will find help among the Seelie court,” he continued as if they had never abandoned the topic. “There was a time when one of the knights courted the doctor, and he might feel honor-bound to assist you now.”
Lily opened her mouth and closed it when no words came. An image of her frail-looking, white-haired, wrinkled grandmother being wooed by Legolas was playing over and over in her mind.
“I didn’t need to know that,” she said, closing her eyes to escape the idea and finding the scene burned in the inside of her eyelids.
“On the contrary, you did. It will be one of the few hands you will be able to play at court and it is important that you prepare to win it.”
“Do you know how wrong it is to talk about the romantic interests of your grandmother?”
He gave her a look of genuine innocence. “No?”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes to try and clear her thoughts again. “Well, it is. Just so you know for future reference.”
“Would it help to know it was sixty-six years ago?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Another sigh. “If it was that long ago, I don’t think he’ll even remember.”
“Such length of time is nothing for a knight of faerie. He will remember and you must make it so that refusing to assist you is not an option. He did claim to love her, so perhaps you should remind him that a love that fades is no true love at all.”
“If he does love her, he should want to help, shouldn’t he?”
Troy gave her a rueful smile and stood up. “Lily, whether he loved her or not is not the question. I doubt he still pines after a mortal woman, and even if his love still held firm, there would be great dishonor in admitting to such longing. The game, for that is what it is, is to make it seem like belying an oath of love would be an even greater dishonor, even if such an oath was given in a moment of passion and to a lesser being.” He reached out a hand to help Lily up. “Now come. Let us make for the clearing. It is more comfortable there, and in the morrow, we will make for the Seelie court.”
Lily didn’t take his hand. She stared at him.
“Lesser being?”
“Do not take offense in truth, Lily,” he said, not dropping his hand. “Humans live fleeting lives, are blind to the reality around them, fail to remember their past, and cannot even foresee the consequences of striking poor bargains in their future. That there are a few bright, extraordinary individuals does not change the fact.”
Finally, Lily closed her fingers over his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She didn’t reply, though, because she found she didn’t know what to say. Longevity was a point, she supposed. Immortality had always been a mark of the divine. With that much experience behind them, it was logical they would find it easy to twist words and situations like expert politicians and chess players all wrapped in one sharp, quicksilver mind. To such a mind, a human must seem almost like a child. He was right, she guessed.
Still, when she followed him to the clearing she had come to think of as his home, she did feel less like a child and more like dirt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Wake up.” His voice filtered down her subconscious and pulled her free of a dream. Its fleeting images dissolved like sandcastles under siege and she blinked her eyes open.
“If the dirt begins to feel as comfortable as my own bed, what does it say about me?” she mumbled, her voice sticky with sleep.
“That your own bed might be uncomfortable.”
“Too early to deal with that.” She groaned and sat up, stretching her back and letting the blood flow through her limbs again. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said after a moment. “Let’s cross over to wherever.”
“To the mortal realm, in fact. We shall find an opening there to take us to the Seelie court.”
He stood towering over her, one hand outstretched to help her out and her knapsack slung over one shoulder. She clasped his fingers and let him pull her to her feet.
“No direct path?”
“None that I would dare use with you.”
“First you say I’m a lesser being and now you’re ashamed of walking around with me?” She gave him a smile, and if it was a bit forced, she thought no one would notice. “I could get offended.”
Troy’s eyes snapped to hers and her expression froze in place. His gaze pinned her, like a butterfly affixed to its exposition case, and she felt just as vulnerable. Her casual words, remnants of the mood she had fallen asleep to, sounded petty in retrospect.
“I—”
He smirked. “You are not quite suited to play that particular game either, Lily. Such tartness in your tone is unbecoming, and the display of insecurity uncalled for.”
“Is it?” And the answer mattered all of a sudden.
“Yes, on both accoun
ts. Now, if that is all?”
“Sure, let’s go. I’m, uh, I’ll try not to react like that again.”
He nodded, not adding another word, and led the way down the riverside. They slipped through an invisible opening and found themselves back in the mortal world. A chilly draft had picked up on that side and Lily shivered, wishing for something warmer to wear. When she had prepared her luggage back in Manchester, she hadn’t thought about outdoor living, and the weather wore her down with as much enthusiasm as the worry and the lack of sleep did.
But she wouldn’t complain. She wouldn’t go back. She just trudged on, following in Troy’s footsteps as he guided her across the forest. She had no idea of where they were, or what direction they had taken—Troy followed a precise, invisible path that meandered under the canopy and took turns at unpredictable intervals, and all she could do was trust him and follow.
The situation reminded her of that first time, in his haven, desperate to find the way to the riverside. There had been endless walking back then, too. She had also been unable to pinpoint for how long she put one foot in front of the other. Then, she had counted steps to have something solid to grasp in her mind. Now, she just didn’t want to know the real distance they traveled.
“You are tired,” Troy said, breaking the silence. A bird cawed somewhere, startled by the sudden noise, and the words took a moment to register with Lily.
“Yeah,” she said. Her thoughts moved sluggishly in her head, as if they were floating in maple syrup. “Guess I didn’t sleep that great.”
His hand cupped her shoulder and the pervasive coolness of his skin invaded her. She began to shake as he guided her aside and pressed down to make her sit.
“We will rest for a moment. You may nap if you wish. We will proceed once you feel recovered.”
“We don’t have time to rest,” she said, offering token resistance to his insistent pressure.
Her legs folded without her permission and she sat down, her back propped against a tree trunk. She frowned up at Troy, who knelt in front of her.
“That wasn’t you,” she said. She didn’t ask.
“Forcing you to the floor? No, it was not. I fear it was your own doing.” The corner of his lips curled up and his eyes glinted. Lily squinted at him.
“But you find it amusing.”
“How could I not?”
She sighed, leaned her head back against the tree, and closed her eyes. “I guess you’re right. I must look like a pathetic rescuer at this point.”
She heard ruffling and a moment later Troy sat by her side, his shoulder jostling hers as he settled down.
“Sometimes,” he said, “the only way to save time is to spend a little time.”
“Meaning, I’ll be useless if I don’t get myself together now.”
“Just so. Rest for a moment, Lily.”
A shiver ran down her spine when he said her name. For a second, she thought he would command her but he didn’t. It didn’t matter. Exhaustion wore her down regardless.
When her eyes were almost closed, she heard his voice drifting down.
“To answer your previous jibe,” he said, “you will recall I mentioned a few bright, extraordinary individuals.”
She didn’t reply. But her nap proved to be more restful than the whole of the previous night had been, and when she awoke, she realized her head had slipped to rest on his shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I see a glimmer,” Lily said.
“The opening of the path. You are improving at detecting them.”
“You sat us to nap at their doorstep?”
“I kept vigil. It appeared to be the best place if we wanted to cross while fresh.”
Lily groaned. She wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep if she had known where they were—which, she suspected, was the reason he hadn’t told her.
“If I’m getting better at seeing them, how come I still can’t see the openings to your riverside clearing?”
“I am more skilled at hiding them. Now, come. Let us not tarry more.” Toy grinned, a note of pride entering the gesture.
He held out his hand and they crossed over together, the world shifting on its axis and warping around them. An instant of pressure pressed in from all angles, squeezing the air of Lily’s lungs.
Then they were gone from one world and stood in another.
Trees tall enough to dwarf a man and remind him of his insignificance surrounded them. It was something Lily had read about, but she had always thought it was a poetic license. Or a description of a tropical forest. Either way, she hadn’t expected to see them, to walk below their canopy, to feel such an inconsequential thing in comparison.
Each trunk was as wide as the pillars supporting the high vaults of a cathedral and they grew straight and tall, so tall. She had to crane her neck back to see the lowest branches. The bark was a warm bronze tone in contrast with a grass so green it seemed like they were traversing a forest of gold and emeralds. Sun rays somehow filtered through the thick foliage here and there, dappling the ground in honey, and when she breathed, she caught a scent sweet and vibrant permeating the warm breeze. She thought it was the smell of life, although the idea sounded silly even in her own head.
“This is incredible,” she whispered, afraid to speak too loud. It would be rude, like chattering or shouting in a sanctuary back in her side of the world. “It’s pure beauty. I don’t ever want to forget this place.”
“You shall not,” Troy said. He had also stopped just after emerging from the path, most likely knowing that she would be arrested by the sights. “The sight of this place will accompany you forever and the true memories you make here will never fade. A gift or a curse from the land, take it as you will.”
“I think it’s a gift,” Lily said, still looking around and drinking their surroundings in. “I guess not very many people get to see this place, and I’m glad I have, and won’t forget.” Finally, she turned to him, grinning.
He didn’t share her wonder. She wouldn’t say she was very good at reading him when he wore his blank facade, but still she thought he looked nervous. There was no trace of mischievous smiles, and his eyes, so intense and observant, skittered all over, darting from shadow to shadow to pool of light. The line of his shoulders and back was relaxed, perhaps too relaxed, and the fingers of his right hand drummed an arrhythmic tune on his thigh.
“Is everything okay?”
“As much as can be expected, I suppose,” he said, barely sparing her a glance. “I must confess I miss the welcoming party.”
“There’s going to be a ball?”
“A ball?” At that, Troy did look at her in curiosity. “Why would they go to such trouble?”
“Well, you just said ‘the party.’”
“Lily.” He sighed. “The party of guards.”
She winced. “Oh, that kind of party. Sure. It makes more sense. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“I dare say nothing at all beyond appreciating the views.”
“You weren’t supposed to answer that particular comment,” she said, trying to suppress a laugh at his matter-of-fact tone. “But you’re right. I’ll try to keep more focused through the next discovery.”
“We shall see how you fare.” His gaze flickered at a spot behind her and she tried very hard not to whirl around. Instead, she turned and schooled her features to mimic Troy’s amused, unrevealing expression to the best of her abilities.
Her mask wasn’t good to begin with and it shattered into a thousand pieces when she saw what had caught his attention.
There were four of them, so similar they could have been brothers. Each was tall and slender, standing at least a head taller than her meager height, but it wasn’t height which made them imposing—it was their exquisite grace, their nimbleness that made them surreal, like wingless angels come to earth. They were all blond, different shades of wheat and gold and sunlight, and their eyes shone sapphire blue and silver gray.
Th
ose jewel-like eyes were fixed on them, all four pairs, and a shiver shook her so badly she had to bite the inside of her cheek to control the knee-jerk impulse of hiding.
It was the party Troy had mentioned, and Lily thought it odd that Seelie fay, who associated with the summer court and displayed the warm tones of the earth so brilliantly, would have eyes as cold as theirs.
One of them took the lead with two gliding steps. His movement made no sound and the forest floor lay undisturbed beneath his soft leather boots. If she hadn’t been staring at him, she wouldn’t have realized he had moved at all.
“Kelpie,” he said. “What a most unexpected visit. If I recall, you claimed to despise life at court. What then is so important to bring you back to us?”
The words themselves were bland but the tone had been measured with jovial notes underneath. It spoke of nothing but pleasant surprise. However, there had been a core of steel twisted around the whole message, sharp as a blade and just as hard. That part spoke of contempt over someone who had to swallow his own words and come begging for help. And there was yet another nuance, some flicker hidden in those cold eyes that conveyed a sense of amusement over someone who was forced to do something unpleasant for them.
They were different from him, just as Troy had claimed. Even different from Glaistig. They were beautiful, so very beautiful, but like snakes and other poisonous animals of her human world, the more gorgeous, the greater the danger.
“Even those who claim not to have the stomach for a feast are bound to appreciate small morsels,” Troy said. “How could I not return to visit my gracious friends in their chosen abode from time to time?”
Troy’s voice was still his, calm and carrying nothing but honesty, but Lily noticed the change in his speech patterns, in the rhythm of his words. He was playing the game too, and behind his polite words stood two clear insults. He had just told the other faerie he despised court because he couldn’t stomach courtiers like him and had also called him out on his poor manners as a host all in one fell swoop.
