by Laney McMann
“The Fomore are one of the ancient spirit races of Eire— Ireland,” Max said, picking up where Benny left off. “Unlike other races, they inhabit the Underworld, and they hunt for power—power they believe you and I posses. All of the attacks—on the beach, in your car, at the hospital—they were all Fomore. They have a huge arsenal of henchmen. Mostly the Damned but there are others.”
“For now, you have to learn to block your dreams.” Benny lifted her head. “Since Max is closer to you now, it will make it harder for the Fomore to get at you physically.”
I shuddered.
“But they have ways to attack through dreams. Max can show you how to block them.” She eyed him and said, “They will try to lure you into the Underworld through sleep, and you’ll never wake in this world again. They’ve been searching for you all your life. Your union with Max will only heighten their efforts. The Fomore will kill you, if given the chance.” Her blue eyes hazed over. “Don’t give them that chance.”
Nausea anchored in my throat, my stomach churning, feeding on disbelief and panic.
How did she know all of this?
Max squeezed my shoulders encouragingly, but I was numb.
“Who are you?” My eyes narrowed. All my life, she betrayed me.
She sighed before looking me in the eye. “I’m a Fae. There are many types of Fae. I’m a BeanTighe—a Guardian. I was sent to watch over you from your birth.”
My brain began to reel, whirling around like a spinning top.
“So you’re … young eternal?” I squeaked out, remembering what Max had explained before.
“Yes, I can die. All Fae can die, but we are eternal.”
I had no idea what that meant.
“We can die by very few means. We don’t die of illness or old age or any mortal, earthly way that you would imagine, but there are ways that we can be destroyed.”
I gripped the armrest of my chair to keep from falling. “How old are you then? I mean, you’ve been my friend all my life. We grew up together. You were a little girl with me. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“We don’t think of time the same way humans do. My age isn’t a number. I have been with you all your life. I have appeared to you the way all humans would appear to you because I’m able to shape-shift—to change my appearance at will.”
Blood drained from my face, my body falling. Max caught me before I hit the ground.
“Dammit, Benny!” he said. “I told you not to go that far. This is too much. She can’t handle all of this at once!” He laid me down. “Her mind needs to rest. Leave it alone for now. She needs more time.”
“We may not have much more!” Benny practically spit at him. “They know. Even you can see the signs. This isn‘t safe!”
“She’s safe here. She’s safe with me!”
“Her body is safe with you—for today. Maybe tomorrow—we don’t know. But, what about her mind, Max?”
He exhaled and sat down beside me. “Lay, I need you to listen. To trust me to help you. Clear your mind of all your thoughts. Push them away. Can you hear the music playing?”
The same faint music that Max always played drifted in the background.
I nodded.
“Focus on the music. Only that. Don’t see anything; don’t dream; just listen to the music.”
I let it fill my ears, my brain, and drown my thoughts. Caught somewhere between sleep and wake, aware but unaware, I wouldn’t dream.
• • •
I opened my eyes to Max sitting next to me, my legs draped over his lap, and found Benny sitting across the room, reading.
“Hey there,” Max said.
“Hey.” I responded with little emotion.
“Feel okay?” he asked, in a timid voice.
I didn’t answer.
“Did you dream?” he pressed.
I shook my head, too mad, too upset, to talk to either of them.
“Lay, I never meant to hurt you.”
I glanced away from him and out the window at the ocean. “I need some air.”
Once outside, wind lashed at my face, and my feet sank into the sand as I stared over the expanse of deep blue water. Having followed, Max wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.
I breathed in, praying the ocean air would cleanse my head, work its magic.
Who am I? I don’t even know. Everything I believed was wrong. Lies.
Benny came up beside me. “Lay …”
“Give it a rest. I can’t hear anymore.”
She bowed her head and returned inside.
I stood in a daze without guilt, feeling nothing. Not even the warmth of Max’s touch, or his breath on my cheek, though I knew both existed.
What happens now? What do I do now?
Max’s arms fell limp at his sides, as I unwrapped myself from his grasp and walked away with heavy feet, knowing with every step I took, I wouldn’t be able to break the bond between us. It was wound too tight.
I stopped, my heart aching, and glanced over my shoulder. Max’s damp eyes lifted, gaze meeting mine.
We’d been away from each other for far too long. With a deep breath, I held out my hand. He bowed his head and gathered me up in one rushed swoop, lifting me off the ground.
Our bodies entwined for what could have been two lifetimes. I didn’t know, or care. I just couldn’t let go.
14
“I don’t want to go inside!” I retained my grip on the door frame as Benny single-handedly tried to pry me from the passenger seat of her car. “Stop.”
She let go of my arms and wiped her forehead. “Are you serious?” She leaned over, her hands against her knees. “You’re being a huge brat. You know that, right?”
“I’m not talking to you. You know that, right?” The thought of her attempting to reason with me about confronting my mom, of all people, was laughable.
“You’re going to have to show your face at some point.”
“Take me back to Max’s.”
“Will you stop it, already?” She shoved her way closer, blocking me in. “Go inside. You don’t have to talk to your mom, but she has to see you. I can’t have your back on this one. She’ll realize I’m lying if she asks me any point-blank questions.”
“Fine.” I huffed. “I’ll go inside and act all normal.”
“Good.” She moved from inside the doorjamb, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t leave the house. I’ll be here in the morning to pick you up.”
“I’m on house arrest, now, too?” I plodded to the front door.
“Yes!”
“Great!” I didn’t look back.
“Lay,” she called after me. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that.”
I don’t know anything.
• • •
“Teine?”
Who else would it be?
The shuffle of my mother’s feet against the wood floor moved closer.
I shoved the heavy, creaking front door shut with a thump, and inhaled before turning to face her.
“Thank goodness you’re all right.” She stood in front of me, breaths heaving. “Did I not specifically tell you that you were forbidden to see MacKenzie again?” Streaks of dried tears tainted her perfect complexion.
My eyes narrowed. “You called him by his real name.”
Her eyes widened as if she’d realized she made a mistake. “His name is of no importance, young lady. The fact that you are grounded, however, is. I have been worried to the point of sickness.” Her jaw muscles tightened, accompanied by an audible grind of her teeth.
“Max called you …” I crossed my arms over my chest.
Red blotches appeared on her face. Her brow furrowed.
“What else do you know?” I should shut my mouth. “That I’m some freak you’ve been hiding away in this house.”
Her eyes widened. “What did MacKenzie tell you?”
“The truth! Which is more than I can say for you!” A tingling sensation slid up my arms,
accompanied by a licking heat. I rubbed my hands down them as if warming myself from a chill.
“What’s wrong?” My mother’s harsh tone flipped to caution. The crease between her eyes deepened.
“Nothing.” I let my arms drop to my sides.
“Are you all right?” she asked again.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I shifted my weight.
Her fixed stare locked onto mine for what seemed like minutes—almost as if she searched for some hidden truth behind my glare. “Stay away from MacKenzie.” She turned, and hesitated, before leaving the room. “Whatever he told you is nothing more than lies.”
Lies? I watched her walk away. He wouldn’t lie to me. Would he? Benny wouldn’t. But she did … I didn’t imagine those things that attacked me, though …
• • •
I stood outside as Benny pulled into my driveway, the dense, warm morning air causing my hair to stick to my neck.
With all the madness in my life, the Spring Show had slipped my mind. Ms. Trudy’s adaptation of Tchaikovsky’s famous ballet, Sleeping Beauty, was only hours away. Since my grueling enlightenment with Benny and Max, and the confrontation with my mother, I was amazed I’d been able to keep my head on straight, much less worry about the show. I figured shock had kept me sane. Either that, or I had passed sane all together. Between my mom avoiding me, not being allowed to leave the house, and being chauffeured around by Benny, my anger had climbed toward consumption again.
“Lay, please. Can we just get through the last few days of school?” She glanced over and sighed but started the engine.
I remained silent, refusing to talk to her as I chucked my dance bag into the backseat, narrowly missing her head. Crazy thoughts went through my mind. What did she really look like? What was her world like? Did she regret all the years she’d been stuck with me? I eyed her from my periphery, not moving my head. A fae? As in fairie … She looked normal to me. But she said she was a shape-shifter. My mouth went dry, and I changed my focus to the trees racing by outside the window and scooted closer to the car door.
“Come on, Lay, you can’t block me out forever.”
“Save it, Benny.” Whoever you are.
“Don’t shut me out.”
I ignored her.
She groaned, and we continued the drive to school in silence.
• • •
“You looked awesome today.” Max trotted down the theatre aisle from his usual seat in the back after rehearsals, his permanent spot since my mother placed a ban on my seeing him. Again. Max heeded her, believing she had people ‘watching’. Whatever that meant. So he hid out in the dark theatre for a few hours every day.
I came to a stop in front of him and exhaled.
He glanced toward the stage, where Benny sat swinging her legs, head bowed. “This isn’t her fault, you know. She loves you like a sister. She was protecting you. Just like I was and you forgave me.” He lifted my chin.
I gazed up at him, assembling the words in my head. “If what you’ve told me in the last few days is true, you’ll hear me right now, and I’ll hear you.” It was the only question I needed the answer to—all the doubts that had been rattling around in my head since the conversation with my mom—the confirmation of truth or lies.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and swept his fingertips along my cheekbone. “I can always hear you, Lay.” His crystal eyes found mine. The sound of his voice in my thoughts—the truth of what that meant—soothed my aching heart. “I never lied to you. I just didn’t know how to tell you the truth. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Then I’m in.”
The edge of his mouth curled up in a grin. “You’re sure?”
I nodded, holding his gaze until heavy footfall distracted my focus.
Benny stood at the end of the lower row of seats. “We need to go backstage and start getting ready.”
“I’ll be right here in the back,” Max said, pointing to where he usually sat. “You’ll be great.” He gave an encouraging smile. “Hey …” He took hold of my hand before I turned to follow Benny, and leaned close to my ear. “Benny could be banished for telling you what you know. She’s broken her vow of silence.”
“What?” My voice stuck in my throat.
“It wasn’t her secret to tell. She’s doing the best she can. We all are.”
I glanced over out of the corner of my eye. She stood tapping her toe, waiting. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?” My friendship with Benny had gone down such a strange road. Something I knew would eventually break me if I continued to allow it.
He shrugged.
At some point, I would have to face the darkness stalking me, and I would need her, like I’d always needed her—no matter what she’d done before.
• • •
People ran around backstage of the Grand Hall Theatre, yelling for bobby pins, mascara, eyeliner, and lambs’ wool for pointe shoes.
I stretched out in the corner of the dressing room, trying to block out the chatter, and closed my eyes as I went through all of my dance combinations in my head.
“Lay?”
I opened one eye.
Benny squatted on the floor next to me.
“I’m trying to find my center, Ben.”
“Yeah … I see that.”
I closed my eye and shut her out.
She sighed.
“Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes before places!” Ms. Trudy’s shouting carried in from the hallway. My eyes popped open as she barged into the dressing room, her gaze centering on me. “Layla! What are you doing down there on the floor?” She marched over.
I jumped up like a military robot. “Just stretching, Ms. Trudy.”
“For heaven’s sake. Look at you. This floor is filthy! Come on, why are you even in here? Your dressing room is down the hall.” She grabbed me by the elbow and yanked me out the door. “Why I have to search around for you all the time during performances …”
I had to prance on the toes of my pointe shoes to keep up with her as she pulled me down the hallway. “Sorry, Ms. Trudy, I like the other dressing room,” I tried explaining. Again.
“Nonsense. Whoever heard of the lead Ballerina sharing a dressing room? That’s out of the question!” She wheeled me around.
LAYLA LABELLE stared back at me in huge flashy silver letters across the top of the door. Humiliating. She pushed me inside the overly large, and much unneeded, room.
“Now, you stay in here until I call you. We’ll be going onstage soon.”
“Yes, Ms. Trudy.” I plopped down in the powder pink vanity chair, in front of an oversized mirror looming above my head. Glittered pink stars framed it, with my name sparkling across the top in bright purple letters. Ugh … I’d worked so hard for my lead role. But glitter?
Murmurs grew from the audience. My stomach gave a familiar lurch. Flutters climbed to my chest. I breathed in, pushing them down, and settled myself on the floor to continue my stretches.
A loud rap sounded on my door. “Five minutes, Layla!”
I stood up and bent forward, drawing my face to my knees, and marched out of the dressing room to take my place back stage.
Ms. Trudy greeted the audience from beyond the heavy red curtain, her voice carrying over the microphone. I waited, stretching my neck, shoulders, and back.
“Places, Layla.”
I nodded and took my spot, alone, on the dark stage, stretching my ankles, hips, and shoulders.
The music started, and the curtain glided back, lights shining on the stage floor. I rose up to my toes, and skimmed across the stage in pas de bourrée to the center, my pointe shoes rapping softly against the floor. Plié, pas de chat right, pas de chat left. Plié to arabesque in attitude en l’air. A flash of Benny’s perfect, white-blonde hair caught my attention as she pirouetted past my left. Dena passed me from the right, meeting Benny at center stage in midair grande jetés, the two them creating a flurry of grace and poise before me as I prepared for m
y fouetté’s. Other dancers bourréed onto stage from the wings, forming a blooming flower of pink and lavender taffeta and lace, surrounding me under the golden center stage lights. They dimmed to a soft glow, the lilt of Tchaikovsky fading into the background as the flower enclosed around me, and darkness fell over the stage.
• • •
Max placed a bundle of gardenias in my arms and kissed my cheek. “You were incredible.”
I breathed in the rich scent, a crowd of people swarming around us.
Ms. Trudy patted my back, her eyes misting over. “You are the brightest here.”
“Thanks, Ms. Trudy. That means a lot.”
“I expect you to rest before the summer program begins. I believe you’ve earned it.” She winked and wandered off into the crowd.
Max squeezed my outstretched hand. “Dinner?” he asked, as we pushed our way deeper into the bowels of backstage—past the noise. “We could sneak out for a little while.” He grinned, leading me toward the dressing rooms. “Your mom was sitting in the balcony. I watched her leave after the show.”
My chin dropped slightly, unsure why his comment made me upset. I was furious with her, but she could have said hello.
Max nudged me. “Let’s go eat. Everything will work itself out.”
I nodded. “I’ll just change real quick.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He rocked back and forth on his heels and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nice nameplate.” He laughed.
I winced. “It’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Darkness had fallen by the time I finished changing, and the automatic lights had come to life backstage, casting an ugly, yellowish glow down the walls and along the floor of the hallway. Only a few dancers remained, the crowd having mostly dispersed. A few waved goodbye and ran out of sight. The rest would surely still be in the main dressing room, waiting to use the shower.
Max leaned against the wall. I walked up behind him and grasped his waist. “Hey.”
He didn’t respond.
I walked around to face him.
He stared blindly passed me.
I scanned the hallway, straining to see in the darkening space. “Max?” I shook his arm and held his face. Vacant eyes stared back. I shook him again, a blaze of terror ripping through my body like I’d been ignited.
