by Jocelyn Fox
He lifted his head from his hands. “Sanctuary. We do not know where there is safety.”
“How many are with you?”
“Twenty two,” he answered promptly. “But of those, fifteen have decided to seek sanctuary at our other settlements, with those they know in the Edhyres or beneath the falls of the Darinwel. So, seven, including me.”
I frowned a little at his word choice. “Wisp,” I said slowly, “are you some kind of royalty?”
Wisp sat very still for a long moment before he said anything. Then he sighed. “No. But from what is easily explained, I am what you would probably call a noble. My family has always served the Dark Court, and that is part of why I was chosen to come to you, Tess-mortal. And my princess…she is with me. She must be protected.” He turned his small heart-shaped face up toward me. “The Dark Queen thought I could be trusted.”
I sat back a little in my chair. Then I smiled a little. “Always surprises,” I said, mostly to myself, but Wisp heard me and replied.
“Yes,” he said, “I was greatly surprised by you, Tess-mortal, when I saw you here in Faeortalam. The Small Folk, we still pass freely into the mortal world. But we have not seen one of you here in…a long time.” He gave up trying to put words to the amount of time that had passed since a mortal had been in Faeortalam.
“Over five hundred years,” I supplied.
“A long time,” agreed Wisp. He leapt lightly from my palm and came to rest on his favorite perch on my shoulder, grasping the hair by my ear lightly for balance.
I glanced around my room. It was spacious enough. “What if you and the seven with you, what if you lived here for a time?” I felt Wisp sit up ramrod straight on my shoulder.
“With you, Tess-mortal?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, but then I felt a little unsure. Was there some law that I didn’t know that forbade Small Folk from being within a certain distance of the Sidhe, or some rule of etiquette that mandated some kind of segregation? “Is that…I mean, is it…proper?”
“Proper?” repeated Wisp. Then he laughed impishly, the first time that he had sounded truly like himself during our visit. “Not at all, Tess-mortal! It is very improper.” He tugged on my hair a little in his excitement. “And that’s why I like it.”
I smiled at his sudden jubilance.
“I will speak to one of the Queen’s ladies about what has happened to your people,” I said, thinking of Guinna, “and in the meantime, I will do whatever I can to make sure that you are very safe here.”
“Tess-mortal,” Wisp said, his voice sober again, “I do not want to anger the Dark Queen. There is no laws against the Small Folk speaking to mortals or even living with them…but this is Darkhill, and her word is law.” I felt him shiver a little, and an answering shiver scurried down my own back as I thought of the dangerously soft voice and gimlet eyes of the Unseelie Queen. I gathered my thoughts.
“Well,” I said finally, “you’ll find this out eventually, so I’ll just tell you. The Queen has bound me here in her service.” I ignored his gasp. “I either have to perform a task that pleases her enough to release me…or she’ll kill me, I guess.”
“There is no guessing about that,” Wisp said quietly. “Oh, how I wish you had come to the Three Trees and slept under the stars! Tess-mortal, being bound to the Queen by her own word is…is…”
“Bad?” I offered.
“Worse than bad, Tess-mortal, worse than bad!” Wisp tugged on my hair in his agitation.
“All right,” I said. “First of all, stop pulling my hair. Second of all, yes, I know how bad it is that I’m bound to Mab until I do something that tickles her fancy. She seems pretty hard to please. And third of all, please stop calling me Tess-mortal. Both you and I know that I’m a mortal, so it’s a little redundant, don’t you think?”
“Very well…Tess,” Wisp said. He had let go of my hair and was instead using the top of my ear for balance now. His cool hands felt odd but it was better than the hair-tugging.
“Here’s how I think of it,” I continued. “I’m bound in the Queen’s service, and you’re bound in my service, in a different way of course, but still. So if you’re doing me service, then indirectly you’re doing her service. See?”
“Your mortal logic is hard to follow,” Wisp said, and he made me repeat myself twice before he finally understood. While it was clear he wasn’t completely convinced that the Queen would have the same idea if she discovered the Glasidhe taking refuge in my chamber, I assured him that no one but me, and maybe one or two of the Sidhe I trusted, would know about them.
“Go and get your friends,” I suggested, “and I’ll go find Guinna. I’ll tell her what’s happened, and hopefully she’ll know how to approach the Queen about it.”
“Very well,” Wisp said.
I opened the door for him, and I saw him dim his glow a little and furtively flit down the passageway. As I shut the door, it occurred to me that I had just offered to share my room with eight of the Small Folk. I wondered for a brief moment if I had gone completely insane, and then shook my head, figuring it was just the effects of Faeortalam on my mortal mind. All the same, what exactly was I getting myself into? I thought long and hard, getting out my sword and strengthening my bad wrist again. The pain barely registered, I was so lost in contemplation. Half an hour later I still had no answer for myself, so I gave up thinking about it, and went to go find Guinna, hoping that she could help me. After a moment’s hesitation, I strapped my sword-belt around my waist. I left the door to my chamber just a crack ajar, so that if Wisp and his companions returned they could slip into the room, and hurried down the passageway toward the dining hall.
Chapter 15
As I hurried toward the dining hall, I saw Ramel walking down the hallway toward me—but my pleasure was short-lived, as he was walking with Donovan and Emery, and anger clouded all three Sidhe’s faces. All three were dressed for travel, wearing short cloaks and heavy boots along with their swords. I glimpsed the sheaths of throwing daggers at Emery’s waist—a specialty skill of most Guards. And Donovan carried his bow, the string wrapped in an oiled cloth. I stopped, cautioned by their grim expressions.
“Ramel?” I said tentatively.
“Tess,” Ramel replied with a terse nod, not even slowing his pace.
“Ramel, do you know where I could find Guinna? Or Molly?” I asked, falling into step beside him. I had to stretch my legs to keep up with their strides.
“No,” he said shortly.
I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s been another attack,” Donovan replied.
“What?” I had to break into a jog briefly to keep up with the tall Sidhe men. “Is anyone…” I trailed off, grimacing as my sword banged against the outside of my knee.
“One dead, and perhaps another,” Emery said in his cool voice.
My heart jumped painfully in my chest. “There’s someone wounded?”
“Yes.”
“Queen Mab is sending out a company to escort the knights back,” Donovan said. “A company made up of both Guards and Knights.”
“Ramel,” I said, “if there is a Sidhe still alive that has been hurt by—”
“Tess,” Ramel said sharply, “you should go back to your room.”
“What?” I felt as though the air had been punched out of my lungs. “But—I can help, maybe I can save the wounded!”
“It’s too dangerous,” Ramel said, taking my arm and pulling me to the side of the passageway. He motioned for Emery and Donovan to continue without him. “Go on, I’ll catch up in the stables.”
“Too dangerous?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes, Tess,” Ramel said, raking his fingers through his auburn curls in agitation. “This wasn’t like the other attacks. It was close, an
d it was brutal. Any venture outside the keep’s walls is dangerous. The Queen has issued sanctuary to all those living outside Darkhill.”
“What does that mean?”
“All those loyal to the Unseelie Court have leave to seek safety inside the walls of the Lady’s Keep,” Ramel replied. He put his hand on his sword-hilt.
“Does that include the trooping Fae?” I asked, unable to help myself.
Ramel gave me a strange look. “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”
I shrugged one shoulder, knowing with a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t be able to lie to Ramel. He knew me far too well for that. My best bet was probably just evasion of the question. “I was just…wondering.”
“And why were you just wondering?” Ramel shook his head. “Tess, please. For your own good, if you know something…”
I took a deep breath. Ramel didn’t have as much influence with the Queen as Guinna, or perhaps Molly, but he had earned my trust. “All right.” I glanced around and lowered my voice. “There was a glow that came to me in Sionntalam, right before it all started. He was the first Fae that I knew, and I thought he was a dream at first. But he told me to urge Molly to accept the summons in the letter from the Dark Queen. I even saw the letter, after that. And then…in the fight with the garrelnost…” I stopped. If I told Ramel about Wisp’s involvement in the fight with the garrelnost, telling me how to use iron, I would have to tell him my part in the fight.
“Go on,” Ramel said quietly.
I trembled a little at the thought of speaking my closely guarded secret aloud. In the weeks since my arrival at Court, I’d learned in leaps and bounds, and one of the greatest things I had learned was that it was best not to attract the attention—and anger—of powerful beings in Faeortalam. “You have to swear,” I said finally, “that you will not tell this to another living soul.”
“By the Tree, Tess,” Ramel swore, “it’s that bad?”
“It’s not bad,” I said, hearing the tremor in my own voice, “it’s just very dangerous.”
“Dangerous to whom?” Ramel said, pressing me closer against the wall of the passageway.
“To me,” I whispered.
Ramel closed his eyes for a moment, and then when he opened them he gazed at me and said, “I swear on my honor that I will not tell another living soul what you are about to tell me now.”
I nodded and swallowed, gathering my thoughts. “When we were attacked by the garrelnost, just before I was brought through the gate…this Glasidhe, Wisp is his name, he got in my head. He told me how to use iron against the Fae, and…” I paused. Ramel waited patiently, his gaze never leaving my face. I had to look down for a minute before continuing on, his look was so intense. “I killed the garrelnost,” I said finally. “Finnead didn’t kill it. Well…he put his sword into it, but only after I shoved a horse-shoe into its eye. I think…I think it would have hurt Finnead badly, if Wisp hadn’t been in my head telling me what to do.”
Ramel let out his breath in a long, slow sigh. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “You know, Tess, I don’t think anyone really understands your true capabilities.”
I brushed aside his comment. “That’s not important right now. The point is, I pretty much owe my life to Wisp. If the garrelnost had hurt Finnead, it probably would have killed both Molly and me. And Wisp came to see me this morning.”
“Here? In Darkhill?” Ramel showed little surprise, just intense concentration as he followed my story.
I nodded. “Yes. And he told me that the Glasidhe had been attacked. Their stronghold, he called it the Three Trees, he said it had been destroyed. Burned.”
Ramel’s grip on my shoulder tightened. “You’re sure of this, Tess?”
“Yes, Wisp told me himself. I offered to help him and his kin, and they said they would help me in return.”
Ramel shook his head again, a slight grin touching one corner of his mouth. “Tess O’Connor, slayer of garrelnosts and protector of the Small Folk.”
“He helped save my life,” I pointed out. “He’s a brave little fellow.”
“I know. Wisp is one of the most trustworthy Glasidhe that I know,” Ramel said. “He’s served the Court for many years, and he’s never failed us.”
“So shouldn’t something be done?” I asked. “The trooping Fae have been attacked.”
“And so have we,” Ramel replied gravely. “As much as the Small Folk deserve our help, no one will be able to help them if the Courts fall.”
“The Seelie Court has been attacked too?” I asked, Wisp’s words about Titania rising to the front of my mind.
“Worse,” Ramel said grimly. “Word has come from the Seelie Court. Their Queen is…not herself.”
“Ramel,” I said slowly, “when I was first brought here, when I was still healing, I had…dreams.”
He nodded. “To be expected.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You don’t understand. These dreams…they felt like…visions.” I felt a bit foolish saying it out loud, but Ramel didn’t laugh.
“And what did you see?”
“A beautiful woman…now that I’ve seen Mab, she reminds me of her, but brighter,” I said carefully, brow creased in thought. “She had hair so golden it was almost white, and the first time I saw her she was dressed in white before a group of Sidhe, speaking to them about something.”
“Did you hear what she was saying?”
I shook my head. “No sound. It was like watching a silent movie. And then I saw her again, in what looked like…a jail cell. She looked very sad. Distraught.”
Ramel rubbed his eyes. “Tess,” he said, “I don’t understand. Molly is supposed to be the important one, but you, you keep revealing these sides of yourself…”
I shifted from foot to foot, uncertainly. “I’m sorry if I should have told you sooner,” I said honestly. “I spoke to Allene about it, and she said that they could have been just dreams, or they could have been things that happened in the past, or will happen in the future.”
“Or are happening now,” Ramel said. “Look, I’ve got to go with the company. When I return, I’ll go to the Knights with what you’ve told me.”
“Let me come with you,” I said again, hating the desperation in my voice. “Please. I want to be useful.”
“You will be of no use to anyone if you’re hurt or killed,” Ramel said. I heard the undercurrent of worry in his voice. It reminded me, suddenly and strongly, of the many times that Liam had cautioned me against a certain course of action, telling me that he didn’t want me to get hurt, while he got to charge into the fray without any hindrance. I bridled.
“Look,” I said, “you may not believe it, but I can damn well handle myself.”
“You’ve had barely any training with a sword, when it’s all said and done, and you haven’t even touched a bow, and we haven’t gone to the stables at all,” Ramel pointed out. “I haven’t taught you how to fight with a shield, or to control a mount in battle, or what to do if your mount is killed.” He turned and began walking. “I don’t have the luxury of time, Tess. I can’t stay here and argue with you.”
I followed him. “Are you taking healers?”
“Of course,” he said over his shoulder.
“And they ride in the back of the company?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ramel replied slowly.
“Then put me in the back with them,” I said. “If there’s a mount strong enough, I’ll ride double. I don’t care. But if I can help save the wounded, you should let me come.”
He turned and faced me again. “Give it up, Tess. You are not ready. Not for this.”
I saw the hard resolution in his eyes and I knew that no matter how much I argued and how hard I tried to persuade him, he wouldn’t change his mind. So I stopped and forced myself not
to look downcast. “Fine,” I said, working hard to iron out the waver in my words. “But when you come back, you’ll teach me archery, and you’ll take me to the stables, so that the next time a company rides out, I will be ready.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on Ramel’s lips. “A hard bargain, but one I can accept.”
I held out my hand and Ramel clasped it in his huge, warm palm. Then he turned and walked quickly down the hallway. “Be careful,” I said softly, mostly to myself. I watched until he disappeared around a corner, swallowing hard against the tide of disappointment washing over me. Then I turned and started walking quickly back to my room. I had thought of a job for Wisp and his friends.
After a detour to the kitchens, where I picked up a loaf of bread and some cheese and a flask of wine—good, normal wine, not vinaess—I headed back toward my room. When I opened the door to my chambers, I expected to see Wisp and his companions ensconced on my bed or somewhere equally obnoxious, already taking over my living space. But, oddly, nothing seemed out of place. Even the little stick of charcoal that Wisp had used to sketch his destroyed home still lay on the makeshift map. Perhaps Wisp hadn’t returned yet—but I had taken enough time with my conversation and trip to the kitchens that I’d thought he would be back by now. The way he’d talked, I’d thought his companions hadn’t been far away.
I closed the door of the chamber behind me and set the food on my desk, carefully rolling up my sketched map and stacking the books on one corner of the desk. I sat down and picked a piece of bread out of the little cloth packet, idly nibbling one corner as I examined the map, studying the areas closest to Darkhill. There were a few pockets of forest, the Royal Woods being the largest, and a few rolling hills; but no mountains, no dense woods that would make it easy for the attackers to escape. To the North, the Edhyre Mountains were a good week’s journey from Darkhill, from what I’d heard Ramel say; and that was if the traveling party was mounted, and riding as if their lives depended on it. I put my sketch-map on top of the real map, and tried to think of the most likely avenues of escape for Malravenar’s raiding party. Then a chill skittered down my spine as a new thought struck my mind.
