Aurelie: A Faerie Tale

by Heather Tomlinson

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  obviously longed to do so. Her voice betrayed her whenever she spoke of Loic. Which wasn't so frequently, after the conversation in the maze.

  Aurelie thumped her pillow. A tiny noise, soft as the snowflakes brushing her window, caught her attention. She sat up. There it was again! At last, the hour had come. She knew now that she never should have encouraged Loic. If their situations had been reversed and she'd seen the other two kissing, Aurelie would have found it difficult to endure. Why had it taken a threat to Garin to make her understand whose embraces she really wished for?

  Tonight she would be kind, but firm. Even if it meant a halt to her visits, she must tell Loic to stop kissing her. For all her friends' sake, this had to stop.

  Tap, tap, rattle-tap.

  Aurelie knelt by the fireplace and rapped on the floor in answer. lap, tap. The square of flooring by her knees wavered, thinned, and became transparent. In a rush of laughter, several Fae whirled up through the opening.

  "Well met, Princess." As each entered, she touched Aurelie's face lightly in greeting. Gauzy robes fluttered like giant moth wings as the Fae flitted around her. In their wake, the boundary between worlds blurred, transforming her chamber. The fire writhed in passionate flames that intensified the rich colors of draperies and walls and painted ceiling. The fragrance of white narcissus spilled from the bowl on the table, adding its sweetness to the mixture of light and scent and sound. Aurelie's heart caught at the beauty the Fae trailed behind

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  them like another floating drapery. In their presence it was impossible to think of war, of treachery or mistrust. It smacked of betrayal, setting aside the Heir's mantle like a heavy garment unsuited to the Fae world's warmth, but she told herself it was just for one last night. Loic didn't deserve to be abandoned a second time without explanation. It would only confirm his jaundiced view of mortals.

  Coal-eyed Helis snatched the case from Aurelie's bedside table. "Bring your flute!"

  "Come with us," Gaelle said. Her garment shimmered grass-green, her eyes gleamed, twin golden disks. Twiggy fingers smoothed Aurelie's hair, easing her headache. She followed the Fae through the opening in the floor and down the stairs into darkness. But the way to their realm was never hidden for long. At Helis's gesture, a wash of liquid light splashed ahead of them down a long staircase and against high walls. A tunnel of worked stone gave way to arches of folded rock, and then the grotto where her host waited. Piles of gold and silver coins and unset gemstones dotted the ground around him, like mulch heaps waiting to be spread over a garden. It was a sight to make a Skoeran trader weep.

  As ever, the drac seemed indifferent to it, his compelling blue gaze fixed on Aurelie's face. The drac wore human shape, a suit of military cut, and boots polished to a high gloss. Seizing her hand, Loic drew her through another door and into the forest, where a crowd of Fae bowed with the whispering wind. She ran to keep up as her partner guided her in a complicated pattern between the other dancers. Collisions threatened at every turn, but the drac lifted them away, usually at the last possible moment. Loic's spirits were pitched fever-high and

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  he capered like a lutin. Between his mischief and the wild dancing, it didn't seem the time for serious conversation.

  Squealing and hiding her eyes from the tangle of dancers they left in their wake, Aurelie clutched Loic's shoulders. He held her closer still. Before she noticed her feet had left the ground, Aurelie was flying. Her slippers scuffed the treetops.

  It was so wrong for Netta to miss this rapturous freedom She belonged here in Loic's arms. Netta would be happy with the drac, while Aurelie's thoughts were fixed on another.

  Under her feet, the stars flashed by, constellations turning as lazily as water lilies in a garden pond. Faster and faster they danced, traversing the night sky like a comet, until the heavens spun around them. When Loic guided her to the earth, his expression serious for a change, Aurelie opened her mouth. Before she could gather breath to speak, Helis darted forward.

  With an imperious gesture, the foxy lutine handed Aurelie her flute. "Play, Princess!"

  Aurelie sighed and curtsied her thanks to Loic. Her prepared speech must be delayed again, lest Helis stick her pointed nose in Aurelie's affairs. She tapped her foot twice on the moss and blew into the instrument. A sea chantey rollicked out of the flute. Fae folk gathered around her, swaying to the music.

  Inevitably, the Skoeran tune reminded Aurelie of Garin. Where was he? Shivering in a hidey-hole someplace? Hungry? Alone? He couldn't be more frightened than she was on his behalf. As she couldn't in daytime, Aurelie let the dark emotion possess her. It rose from deep inside and flowed out of her flute into the night.

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  She played the fear of the rabbit, hiding from the owl. She played the fear of every hunted thing, chased from its home. She played the mortal fears of losing those most dear, of making the wrong choices, of failure and betrayal. Notes whispered and gibbered and moaned out of the flute. She played her fear like a half-mad horse she must ride, clinging to its back while it trampled the timid corners of her soul. With her last scrap of breath, Aurelie blew a long, quavering note and then collapsed, sobbing, into Loic's arms.

  The other Fae clustered around her, honeybees to their queen. Layers of iridescent color brushed against Aurelie's arms, her back, her feet. Rich as incense, the perfume of their skin overwhelmed her. She couldn't read the message in their jeweled eyes. Her fingers trembled. The flute dropped to the ground.

  Helis rubbed her face against Aurelie's wrist. The black eyes glittered, "Delicious."

  "Manners, madame," Loic said sternly.

  Whining like a scolded pup, the lutine cringed and backed away. The spell drawing the others to Aurelie dissolved. With soft murmurs of approval, they separated from her side.

  Gaelle stretched like a cat and bent to retrieve the flute. "Fear," the Fee Verte said, as if she still tasted it in the air. "You haven't played that for us before."

  Aurelie wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "It wasn't music."

  "Don't apologize for your gift." Loic's arms tightened around her waist. The drac sounded too intent. What had he done while she was weeping? Stuck her feet together? Dropped crickets in her hair?

  Planted a betrothal ring on her finger?

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  He wouldn't havel Alarmed, Aurelie shifted her weight, ran a hand through her hair, and inspected her fingers. All seemed in order. "You enjoyed it?" she said. "I didn't know it would please you."

  "Oh, ho." Helis had crept back to them. "Hiding more, Princess?"

  Aurelie smothered the prickle of guilt. She wasn't hiding Netta; Netta was hiding herself. "Not at all," she said, but the glib response sounded flat. Aurelie had made a mistake and needed to fix it. Fear was part of her resolve: the fear she might have driven Garin away. If she saw him again, she owed him the candor she herself wanted.

  "Liesl" The lutine leaped at a tree, snapping at nothing. "Human lies and spiesl"

  "I'm not spyingl Loic told me to wait here," a voice protested. Helis dragged a brown-haired, green-eyed man from behind the tree.

  "You!" Aurelie slid from Loic's arms to confront Garin. She seized the shabby black robe, lest he disappear as mysteriously as he had arrived. Of the emotions warring within her, anger escaped first. "Beastl Sneakl Why didn't you come out before? We've been so worried about youl"

  "Funny way of showing it," Garin said. "Dancing and carrying on."

  "Weren't you listening?" Irritation roughened the drac's mellow voice. Perhaps you require new ears. Owl, or lynx?

  Farfadets and lutins melted into the shadows. Helis retreated behind a tree. Gaelle alone lingered, holding Aurelie's flute across her palms like an offering.

  "I heard you scare her half to death." With his thumb, Garin wiped the tear tracks from Aurelie's face. "Don't cry, Your Highness. You and Netta are worth ten of this overgrown lizard."

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  "Overgrown!" Loic huffed
.

  "I was frightened for you" Aurelie said. More tears welled up, as if she'd been storing them for this occasion. "How did you escape from Skoe?"

  He stepped away from her. "After I set the fire that ruined my family and arranged for your men to be blamed for it, you mean?"

  His flippant tone dried her tears. "I mean," she said, "that you have friends who believe you innocent, no matter what the Skoeran council ruled. Friends who would help, if you could shape that stubborn tongue into asking."

  "Your pardon." He rubbed his face. "I've not slept much, lately."

  "Well, we have that in common." Aurelie sat on the moss. "Tell us what you think happened, and we'll share what we know."

  His legs folded under him. "The warehouse blaze was set ahead of time, with a fuse, to make it appear like a dud firework. I think Captain Inglis did it, first paying two of your sailors to walk by so she could stoke bad feelings against your party and lure you into a trap. When that failed, she bribed the council's investigator to say I had tried to destroy her share of the cargo. Supposedly, I miscalculated the amount, blew up the warehouse, and set fire to the ships. She lost the merchandise, but her partners--my parents--owed her for it, so she still came out well ahead of them."

  "Devious," the drac said.

  "Don't tell me you approve," Aurelie said.

  "I said it was clever, not that I approved," Loic clarified.

  Aurelie turned to Garin. "Why would she do such an evil thing?"

  "My guess is that Captain Inglis wanted to put my parents in debt to her and weaken their influence on the council. They've always held

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  out for peace. If she could discredit them, fewer would object to the war plans."

  "But she was born here," Aurelie said. "A Dorisen seamstress told me. Her oldest son, too. What turned them against us?"

  "That's another odd thing," Garin went on. "My parents said she and young Hui arrived in Dorisen with a purse full of gold and the clothes on their backs. Jacinthe invested in the riskiest ventures, but not one failed. The right cargo at the right time, on the right route, with the right wind, as if heaven itself smiled on her. Married an influential trader named Inglis, and now all of Skoe's in her pocket."

  "A gold purse and a suit of clothes, eh?" Loic mused. "Clever, ruthless, and absurdly lucky. Named Jacinthe. What does she look like?"

  "My height," Aurelie said. "Pale blond hair and the most unusual light eyes, almost colorless. Her son has them, too."

  Loic coughed. "Sounds like my old nurse."

  "Your nurse?" Garin and Aurelie stared at him in disbelief.

  "Fair Jacinthe." The drac bared his teeth. "Hair white as ice and a disposition a thousand times colder. That woman deserved every trick I played on her, I assure you. She had a son, you say?"

  "Hui," Aurelie replied, her voice faint. It made a twisted kind of sense. Loic's nurse had been snatched from her family and made to look after a drac child, not knowing what had happened to her own son. Such a woman might well reclaim her son and flee to Skoe, holding a grudge against the king and countrymen who had failed to protect her from the capricious Fae.

  "Hui." Loic tasted the name. "He should thank me for sparing him seven years of his mother's ill humor."

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  "Most children prefer bad-tempered mothers to no mother," Aurelie said.

  "Humans are irrational," Loic said. Before they could argue about it, Garin drew the next obvious conclusion.

  "If she was your nurse, she can see your people? The Fae, I mean."

  "Ointment in the left eye, same as you. Before, actually," the drac said. "She'd served a few years already when I met you three. Nurses are for very young dracs. But when she left us, I believe her purse contained several items that my father didn't mean to include with her wages. Perhaps I'll call on her myself, now that she's surfaced." Loic smiled at Aurelie and Garin like a kindly uncle. "Any other little mysteries I can solve for you, dear friends, before it's your turn to satisfy my curiosity?"

  "Do you know a vouivre?" Garin said hastily.

  "A what?" Aurelie asked.

  "A vouivre!" Loic vanished from their sight and returned a moment later in his natural shape, upper part man and lower part lizard. His fists clenched. "Stay away from them. Spawn of a gargouille and a mortal, the most suspicious, combative females you can imagine. Great obvious jewel in their foreheads, convinced everyone they meet wants to steal it, even if he is merely admiring the facets. Try and rip your face off, simple misunderstanding."

  "Well, someone succeeded with this one," Garin said. "Helm Burgida," he added for Aurelie's benefit, and pointed at his forehead. "There's supposed to be a jewel there, but she hasn't got it."

  "Oh. In that case." The drac relaxed. "Harmless as a mortal.

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  Without her Luck, a vouivre is a mortal, to all intents. Can't find her way back to our world, poor creature, and she'd be defenseless if she could."

  As if distressed by the other Fae's loss, Gaelle joined the conversation. "Seven years, before the vouivre can claim it again," she added sadly. "If she can find it. They don't always, and then they age and die like mortals."

  "Worse for the thief, though," Loic said. "If he doesn't surrender it on the prescribed day, the Luck turns sour."

  "For another seven years?" Garin asked.

  "For the rest of the unfortunate's life, however long it lasts," Gaelle answered.

  Loic touched his forehead. "Quite a feat. I'd be tempted to shake the man's hand and say well done to whoever managed it."

  Aurelie looked at Garin. "Jacinthe Inglis," she said, for both of them.

  "Quite probably," Loic answered. "She would have had the nerve. And a well-planned escape route. That seems to have been the woman's specialty." The drac steepled his fingers. "Now, dear Aurelie, perhaps you could clarify one point for me."

  "Yes?"

  "It's about Netta," he said, his voice silky.

  Garin raised his hands. "I didn't tell him."

  The lizard tail swept across the moss. "Tell me what?"

  Aurelie stiffened. She had meant to give him a hint, but not under interrogation. "What about her?"

  "Is she well?" His politeness was exquisite.

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  "Yes," Aurelie said. As well as could be expected, for a person who cried for hours into her pillow, thinking no one would notice the dark circles under her eyes.

  "But?" The drac's fin lashed his back; his claws extended.

  An impressive sight, Aurelie conceded. "But what?"

  "Don't be dense!" Loic snarled. "What's the matter with her?"

  "She made me promise!" Aurelie told him, driven by a mix of pity and exasperation. Judging by the drac's agitation, he missed Netta as sorely as she pined for him. "If you want to know more, find her and ask her."

  "That's what I said," Garin pointed out. "Didn't I, Loic?"

  The drac roared so loudly even Aurelie stepped back. "Useless mortals," he hissed, sounding remarkably like Helis. Sparks crackled around him, and he disappeared.

  "The revel's over," Gaelle said mournfully. She shook her leafy hair. "Come, I'll escort you to your room, Princess. Man."

  "I can't go to the palace," Garin said.

  "Oh, yes you can." Aurelie dragged Garin after the Fee Verte. She hoped Loic would find Netta soon; their reunion was long overdue. For her part, Aurelie had Garin back again. This time, war or no war, they'd get a few things straight before she let him go.

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  Chapter 20 Aurelie

  But when Aurelie tapped on the sitting room door early the next morning, silence answered her.

  Garin had left a folded blanket at the foot of the daybed and no other sign of his presence. He knew the palace as well as Netta and Aurelie; he could be anywhere.

  She might have slept in, Aurelie thought, rather than troubling to get up and dressed before Elise had even come out of her room to build up the fires. As she refused to chase Garin through Lumie
lle, the princess marched around the Heir's Suite, thumping pillows to relieve her annoyance. She twitched open the heavy drapes and discovered a world transformed.

  The snowstorm Netta predicted had turned the city into a confectioner's masterwork. White icing frosted the garden's hedge maze, fountains, and trees. The statues on Tower Bridge wore tall white

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  caps like pastry chefs. Beyond, creamy drifts obscured the bags of earth piled against the city walls, the cannons and balls, and the rest of the ugly preparations for war. After dropping their cargo of snow, the clouds had sailed on. The sun rose in a clear sky to dazzle people emerging from their snowbound houses. As the bundled figures swept steps and paths clear, Aurelie marshaled her thoughts.

  Jacinthe Inglis had been Loic's nurse. Aurelie was still grappling with the idea that the Skoeran captain had cared for the baby drac. Though, according to Loic, "cared for" wasn't the best description of her actions. But it did explain some things, like the way Hui had reacted to the mention of Cantrez. His memories of the place where his mother had been stolen couldn't be happy ones. Strange to think that Aurelie might have seen him playing with the other children at the Longest Day celebrations. The royal household had often celebrated the summer festivities in the town of Queen Basia's birth, It hurt to know that some who had shared her childhood home had turned so bitterly against Jocondagne.

  The revelation also raised new concerns. If Captain Inglis could see the Fae, thanks to the drac's ointment, then she must know Burgida's identity. So why had the Skoeran hired her to helm Gargouillel If Inglis had stolen the vouivre's Luck, perhaps she knew about the time limit and meant to surrender it. Or was there another reason to keep the magic stone's true owner close? Did Burgida's involvement have any bearing on the war with Jocondagne, or was it strictly a personal matter between Inglis and the Fae?