The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  “Campion,” the fairy answered reluctantly.

  “Campion, come with me and I will show you.” Theo reached past the fairy and opened the door, curling his lip in scorn at the other guard’s move to stop him.

  He pulled the door open and strode through first, as an arrogant Fair lord would. The room was blindingly bright; two walls were made of fairy glass and let in the brilliant sun, while the other two were gilded. The floor was polished white marble that reflected the light into their eyes. The only objects softening the harsh brilliance were three vines which climbed up the gilded walls and curled across the ceiling. Their leaves were as long as Theo’s arm and gleamed deep green veined in luminous gold.

  The children were clustered against the gilded wall as far as possible from the door. About half of them were asleep, and the other half looked up in apparent terror when the door opened.

  Theo ignored them. He dragged the guard across the room, trying not to squint, and pointed out the window. “Look!” he barked.

  Campion followed his pointing finger.

  Far in the distance, the deep indigo forests were not as distinct as they ought to be.

  “Do you see that? That is the magic fading, Campion. That is what the human children are not able to solve, dance though they may. Look there!” Theo whirled and pointed at the mountains to the south, which should have been pink-tinged but now seemed gray. “Does that look right to you?”

  He turned back to the guard, his eyes wide and passionate. “That is what I’m trying to fix.”

  Campion stared at the window. “Why is it gray?” he murmured thoughtfully. “I had not noticed that.”

  “The very land beneath us is sick, Campion,” said Theo, his voice shaking with controlled fury. “I need to examine the children to figure out why, and how to fix it.”

  Campion nodded once, his gaze still fixed on the mountains. “Do it.”

  Theo stalked over to the children and surveyed the little group. He glanced back over his shoulder to see that the guard was not yet looking, then raised a finger to his lips. He mouthed Trust me.

  Two of the oldest, a boy and girl who looked to be about eleven or twelve, understood immediately. Their eyes brightened, but at Theo’s stern look they controlled their expressions.

  One of the youngest girls began to weep quietly, and turned to another child, perhaps a sister.

  Theo said, “Wake them,” and indicated the children still sleeping. The four who had not yet woken were difficult to rouse, and stared blearily at him even once they were sitting up. There were dark shadows beneath their eyes.

  Theo snuck a quick glance over his shoulder again. The guard had ambled closer.

  “This one,” Theo nudged one of the closest boys with the toe of his boot, “is sick. I think that one and that one may be as well.” His lips curled as if the children and their ailments disgusted him. “I am taking them to His Majesty. I will consult with him about my findings.”

  “You will not take them,” said the guard in disbelief. “We have been charged to guard them.”

  “Not from His Majesty,” countered Theo scornfully. “What could happen between here and the throne room?”

  The fairy frowned.

  “On my head be it if I let them out of my sight.” Theo straightened.

  Campion’s mouth twisted doubtfully.

  “Unless you’d rather watch the forests lose their color and crumble like the mountains,” murmured Theo. “On your head be that.”

  Campion glanced out the window and let out a troubled breath. He nodded. “All right. Take them to His Majesty, then. I will escort you to the throne room.”

  Theo snarled, “I can control a few exhausted human children. I’d be happy to prove it with a blade if you like.”

  “On your head be it if they’re stolen by the Wraith, then.” Campion glared at him.

  Theo glared back with all the arrogance of a Fair Lord for an underling, but did not deign to reply.

  “Come, humans.” He snapped his fingers and tapped his foot while the children scrambled to their feet. He didn’t help them when another of the youngest began to cry quietly, though his heart twisted within him. One of the older children took the child’s hand, and they set off down the hallway.

  The guards watched him lead the children all the way down the corridor, so he snapped his finger again impatiently as he stood at the top of the stairs and shooed the children down ahead of him. They clustered like frightened ducklings around the oldest two.

  When they were out of sight of the guards, Theo murmured, “Trust me, children. I’m here to help you.”

  “Are you the Wraith?”

  “I am.” He smiled warmly down at the little girl, his eyes dancing with mischief. “I am sorry I frightened you. Walk with me a little longer, and pretend to be afraid.”

  “My feet are tired,” whispered one of the little ones, no more than six.

  “I will carry you later,” promised Theo. “For now, we must maintain the ruse, do you see? I am terrifying, and you are brave but despairing and alone.”

  The children nodded, trembling.

  He led them through deserted hallways of gilt and sapphire, of fairy glass that showed scenes of fantastical monsters. The children gasped as a fanged, winged horse seemed to lunge at them from a mirror, and Theo covered a little girl’s eyes and drew them onward.

  At last, they reached the door where he was to meet Cedar. He had avoided all other Fair Folk to this point, but there was one outside with Cedar now, and he did not delay longer.

  He opened the door and snapped his fingers at the children. “Out!” he barked, his voice all impatience and snide condescension.

  Cedar gave him a surreptitious glance of warning, then said, “My lord, I am honored to introduce Lord Ash Willowvale, Special Envoy of the Fair Court to the Valestrian Court.”

  Theo wished desperately he had been able to discern the identity of the Fair lord before he had opened the door, but now there was nothing for it but to brazen his way through.

  He gave a slight, arrogant bow, as if he outranked Lord Willowvale, and ignored the children, looking instead to Cedar.

  The dark lord said, “Lord Willowvale, I am honored to introduce Lord Polyantha Meadowhawk.”

  Lord Willowvale gave a cursory bow, his eyes raking up and down Theo’s clothes and back to his face.

  “What are you doing with the captives, Meadowhawk?”

  Theo narrowed his eyes. “They aren’t working, Willowvale. The king’s ploy is failing, and he asked me to find out why. Do you oppose His Majesty’s efforts?”

  Lord Willowvale blinked and studied Theo with suspicious eyes. “Where are you taking them?”

  “What business is it of yours?” Theo snapped. “You have no authority over my assignment, which comes directly from His Majesty himself. Go ask His Majesty for an easier assignment if you cannot manage the one you have been given.” He smiled coldly. “Go to the children’s room and look at the mountains if you want to understand my urgency. Your task is trivial in comparison.”

  Willowvale hissed out a long breath. “Your arrogance will cost you, Meadowhawk,” he murmured, still looking at Theo suspiciously. “You remind me of someone.”

  Theo snapped his fingers at the children and pointed at the path imperiously. Cedar took the hint and began to take the children down the path, though with a gentleness to his manner that struck terror into Theo’s brave heart.

  He stepped to the side, drawing Willowvale’s attention back to himself and away from Cedar and the children. “Of the king, no doubt. I do hold his authority in this, and he will not be pleased to find that you have delayed my investigation. I bid you good day, Lord Willowvale.” His icy bow was so slight as to be an insult, and the fairy took it as intended.

  “I cannot say the same, Lord Meadowhawk,” Lord Willowvale snarled. “However, I do look forward to the results of your efforts.”

  Theo turned his back on the fairy lord and walk
ed away with his head high. When he was out of sight of Lord Willowvale, and sure that the fairy was not following him, he lengthened his strides. Only a little bit farther!

  His Majesty Silverthorn’s magic was so strong as to prevent anyone from opening a door to the veil close to the palace. Theo had conjectured once that it might be possible, but it would surely draw far too much attention, and he might be so exhausted after doing so that the escape would be of no use. Instead, after every rescue from the palace they were forced to flee some unknown distance away from the palace, until the feel of the king’s magic had faded enough to allow the door to be opened quickly.

  “That might have been it for you, my friend,” he murmured as he caught up with Lord Mosswing.

  The fairy gave him a sideways look of suppressed mirth. “We shall find out. I can plead innocence as well as anyone. If Willowvale himself did not recognize you, it will be difficult for him to accuse me with any credibility.”

  One of the little girls whimpered, and Theo swept her up in his arms. She shuddered against him, terrified of him, Cedar, Willowvale, the quivering golden flowers that brushed her shoulder as Theo carried her, and the sound of a hunting horn in the distance.

  Theo stopped suddenly at an enormous tree with a sapphire blue trunk and fuchsia leaves that rustled and danced, though there was no wind.

  “Here.” It was closer than he would have liked to the palace, and the king would no doubt feel the door open, but if the hunt were already on, time was short.

  He pressed his hand to the tree trunk and shoved with his magic, twisting it in between the fibers of living wood, pushing and pressing and pulling it open with a rush of effort that left him light-headed. He leaned his forehead against the blue bark and closed his eyes.

  “Get them inside,” he whispered.

  Cedar ushered the children into the slender gap in the tree trunk. Theo let the little girl slide down, and Cedar gently pushed her into the veil. The king’s magic battered at Theo’s mind, and he blinked stars from his vision.

  “Come.” Cedar caught Theo’s arm and tugged him to safety.

  Theo let it close behind him only a moment before the hunt rushed through the clearing.

  “Don’t be afraid, children,” he said. His voice was almost steady. “Tell me your names.” He cared for them, certainly, but it was also a chance to let the dizziness fade and to get his bearings in the darkness.

  Frightened voices answered him. Josie. Gertie. Beth. Tamsin. Violet. Julie. Tom. Alfie. Richard. Chloe. Loren. Grace.

  “Who is too tired to walk?”

  Three children shuffled their feet, but only one murmured something close to assent.

  “I will carry you. Don’t be afraid,” Theo said. He knelt down. “Feel my shoulders here? Climb on my back, just like that.” One of the little boys climbed on his back and wrapped thin arms around his neck. “There, see? I’m not frightening after all, am I?” He smiled into the darkness, knowing they would hear it in his voice. “Would you like me to carry you too?”

  The little girl nodded, then whispered, “Yes, please.”

  Theo caught her up in his arms and stood with a huff of effort. The stars in his vision reappeared. Cedar put a hand against his shoulder for a moment to steady him.

  “You’re a good man,” the fairy murmured into his ear. “I am glad to know you.”

  “Where shall we take you, my friend?” said Theo. “The other side of the garden?”

  Cedar thought. “Yes.”

  Even Cedar did not have the facility with the paths through the veil that Theo did. It would be faster and safer for Theo to open the door for him to reappear some distance from the Wraith’s path than for him to do it himself.

  “Hold hands,” said Theo. He waited until everyone had linked hands, then said, “Hold my jacket, please,” to the nearest child. Cedar took the hand of the last child in line, and, so linked, they set off through the veil with Theo in the lead.

  Ten minutes later, Lord Mosswing quietly joined a group of Fair Folk discussing the audacity of the Wraith, who had taken all twelve children out of the king’s very palace. Theo had, as usual, left a slip of paper with a little drawing of the fairy rose on it, this time tucked in the sleeve of one of the guards in charge of the human captives. Campion, the guard, was pleading his innocence before the king.

  The fairy rose was a hardy, unpretentious little flower that bloomed in many colors, though the most common was pink. It looked much like the wild roses of the human world, but Cedar was reasonably sure they were unrelated.

  Months before, Theo had begun leaving these little slips of paper to pique the curiosity and anger of His Majesty Oak Silverthorn. Cedar wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a valid purpose, but besides Theo’s obvious delight in provoking the haughty Fair Folk, he had another purpose which he had not yet shared with Cedar.

  “The mountains trembled,” said one of the Fair ladies. “I could feel it through the ground. It must have happened as they left the Fair Lands.”

  The Fair Folk looked toward the distant peaks tinged a faint gray-green beneath the brilliant sky. Cedar thought, for a moment, that even the sky looked less vibrant in that direction, but told himself it was only his imagination.

  Theo, his dearest friend, had promised he would figure out something to save the Fair Lands. The dark lord, full of misgiving, saw the grey shadows flickering across the mountains, and how the peaks had grown less distinct.

  Time was indeed running out.

  Chapter 14

  Family Concerns

  Lady Hathaway said over breakfast one morning, “Lily, today I will begin practicing on your hair.”

  “Why?” Lily looked at her mother over the rim of her teacup as she took a sip.

  “For the wedding.” Her mother added carefully, “I do not think it necessary to hire a woman to do what I am perfectly capable of learning. We have nearly two months before the wedding to practice. I am sure we can agree on something lovely in that time.”

  Lily’s confusion turned to pleasure. “I would love to have you do my hair, Mother.” She added more softly, “Is Father well? Is something wrong?”

  The men had already retreated to the study upstairs.

  Her mother shook her head. “He is fine. Some of the ships he invested in have not yet arrived and it seemed wise to me to be frugal where we may. Do not be concerned, Lily; if I cannot do something satisfactory with your lovely hair, we will spend the money on a maidservant.”

  She flushed. “I’m not concerned about that, Mother; I am only concerned for Father, if there is anything to be concerned about.”

  “Your father will take care of his own concerns. He would not want you to worry.” Her mother’s smile was warm. “Your Theo will not be dissuaded no matter how simply I may do your hair. He is indeed quite smitten. Nevertheless, I do want you to be happy with your hair. It is an important day, and I want your memories to be entirely pleasant.”

  After breakfast, Lily visited the children’s home with Oliver again and spent a pleasant morning with the children. Lily spent an hour teaching the oldest girls how to choose flowers from the gardens and then arrange them in vases. Oliver and John spent much of the time discussing the finer points of men’s table etiquette in different social settings. None of these boys would need a nobleman’s manners, but it would be beneficial for them to know how to comport themselves well enough to obtain positions in noble households. These were the orphans and street children, abandoned and alone before the Fair Folk had taken them from Aricht, and the thought of service in a noble household made some of them flush with hope.

  There was a murmur of activity about the house even more pronounced than usual, and Lily wondered quietly if she would ever be entrusted with any more information. But she did not ask Essie anything.

  Just before lunch, a few minutes before Lily and Oliver were to leave, Lily’s charges had been given into the care of Sadie for washing up. Essie bustled into the kitchen and beg
an slicing an enormous loaf of bread into thick slices. She got a block of butter from the cellar and a glass jar of honey, then poured a liberal amount of honey into a glass bowl. She cut chunks of soft butter into the bowl, then mashed the honey and butter together with quick sure strokes. The woman’s brows were drawn together.

  “Are you all right?” Lily asked gently.

  “The poor dears,” the woman muttered. “Some new ones came last night.” She glanced up at Lily and added, “Don’t say anything, you hear? The poor children have suffered enough.”

  Lily nodded. “The Wraith is very brave,” she ventured.

  Essie nodded, and Lily realized with shock that tears were sliding down the woman’s cheeks. She silently proffered her spotless kerchief.

  Essie huffed out a tearful chuckle. “I’m all right. Thank the good God above for the man.”

  “I do,” murmured Lily. Without even noticing when she began doing so, she included the Wraith when she prayed at night for those she loved.

  Chapter 15

  Smitten

  “Would you come with me to the dance at Lord and Lady Hastings’ manor?” Theo asked Juniper. The young man was already dressed in fashionable pale green silk that set off his bright copper hair and fair skin. His bright white lace cravat was tied in the newest style. “If we get there early, it is likely you will be able to see Miss Hathaway when she arrives.”

  “If you would like me to,” Juniper said obligingly.

  They set off in a carriage with Anselm as the driver, and spent the ride in companionable silence. Juniper said after some time, “Is glamour not a common gift among humans with magic?”

  “Not at all, and when humans have it, it’s never near as strong as that of any fairy.” Theo glanced at him. “You’ve said before that no one will miss you while you’re here, Juniper. I am sorry for that, but I wonder whether you might not be as happy here as in the Fair Lands, even once it’s safe for you to return.”