“Twelve,” said the fairy at last. “Does that irritate you?”
Had the magic been working long enough? Time seemed a fuzzy concept to Theo at the moment, but he felt that it was probably nearly time to act.
He opened his eyes to meet Lord Willowvale’s icy gaze. “No. I am furious, my lord, not irritated.” His voice shook, just a little, and he prayed the fairy thought it anger, not pain and dizziness. “But I do not hate you, nor the Fair Lands. There is much beauty here.”
Lord Willowvale stepped closer to look into his eyes, bright pale blue to warm hazel. “I did not think there was anything on which we would agree.” The fairy smiled coolly. “Yet you do speak truth now. I love the Fair Lands above all else. Why, then, would you seek to destroy it?”
“I do not.” Theo smiled as warmly as he could, considering the haze that suffused his vision. “The soul of the Fair Lands is far too beautiful to save by sacrificing children, Lord Willowvale.” He took a slow, agonized breath, feeling the thorns sliding between his ribs.
The magic must have had enough time by now. “Watch me save your land my way, and be ashamed.”
His fingers had grown numb, but the thorns had left him just enough mobility to snap his thumb and finger. Theo and the vines surrounding him, thorns and all, fell into the tunnel that opened just beneath his feet. It closed with a snap just behind him.
Theo fell to the floor of the veil in a tangle of three-inch thorns that nearly put his eyes out. The sudden pain was so intense that he could not have screamed, even if he’d wanted to.
After a moment trying to steady his breathing, he used the whisper of magic he still carried to produce a bright yellow glow a few feet in front of his face. It was risky, to be sure; he could feel something big moving in the tunnel not too far away. But the thorns were near to eviscerating him, had already punctured several important organs, and it would be difficult enough to free himself with the aid of the light; in the dark, it would be impossible.
One thorn had cut a deep gash from his right eyebrow up to his hairline, and the blood kept dripping into his eye most frustratingly. He pulled a thorn from his left wrist, where it had slithered between the bones and out the other side. He brought the light to him and tried to heat it, but his magic was too weak to do much. He gathered himself and tried again, trading light and his dwindling strength for heat.
The vine hissed and protested, then began to unwind itself from him. Several of the thorns from the segments of vine wrapped around his back pulled back, and the piercing agony nearly brought Theo back to his knees.
He pressed the hot, fading flicker to his chest, and the warmth of it brought him clarity, if not relief from the pain.
Cedar would be waiting, if he were still free.
Theo pressed a hand to his chest and began to run.
Chapter 37
A Courageous Foray Into the Veil
The grey light of dawn had just begun to make the trees distinguishable from the blackness around them. The shadowy mounds of bushes and hedges began to take shape.
Suddenly there was movement right at the edge of her vision, and Lily strained her eyes. Faint moonlight caught two figures hurrying toward the house.
Her breath of hope was quickly dashed, for there were only two figures, rather than three, and one of the two was unfamiliar to her.
Anselm must have been awake, for a splash of yellow lantern light from the manor door suddenly illuminated the figures, and Lily gasped. One was Araminta, still wearing the same dress she had been two days before, and apparently unharmed. The other was a dark-skinned, white-haired man, or fairy.
Lily ran to Theo’s room and lifted the candle high to see the swords on his wall. She pulled the smallest sword off the rack and ran downstairs.
“Hello, Araminta!” she whispered. She held the sword up. “You know the Wraith, don’t you?” she asked the fairy.
Anselm and the fairy stared at her.
“Yes,” the fairy said. “Who are you?”
“His wife. Take me to him.”
The fairy blinked and glanced at Anselm. Araminta gave a choked little laugh. “Lily, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!” She edged around the point of the sword and threw her arms around Lily’s neck.
“I am glad to see you too, Araminta,” Lily said sincerely. She focused on the fairy again. “He went to rescue my brother and Lady Araminta, and I did everything wrong, and I ought to be there with him.”
“I don’t think that’s wise, Mrs. Overton,” said the fairy. She was startled to see kindness in his turquoise eyes, bright as gems against his walnut-colored skin. “He will not be pleased with me if I bring you into danger.”
Araminta nodded her acknowledgement of Lily’s welcome and stepped back out of the conversation.
Lily brandished the sword at him, wondering if he could tell how ignorant she was of its use. He looked and spoke like a nobleman, so probably he had already ascertained she was hardly threatening. Nevertheless, she hoped it conveyed her seriousness.
“Take me to him. I’ll obey whatever he says, I promise you. But I asked him to go into danger and I didn’t even know who I was asking. Maybe I can help somehow.”
The fairy bowed courteously. “I shouldn’t, my lady.” He turned away, apparently thinking the conversation was at an end.
She thrust the candle into Araminta’s hand and grabbed at his sleeve with a ferocity that startled both of them. “Take me to him, fairy!”
He looked down at her small hand clenched on his sleeve and said mildly, “My name, my lady, is Lord Cedar Mosswing. Pray delay me no longer. I am required back in the Fair Lands for the next part of the Rose’s plan.” He began walking, and she clung to him, keeping pace.
“I will go with you.”
He looked down at her but said nothing else for a moment as he continued quickly back toward the door to the veil, which he had left open.
When they reached it, Lily realized that Anselm had followed them. He now said, “Mrs. Overton, I really must insist that—”
Cedar stepped into the veil, brushing her hand off his sleeve with no apparent effort.
She jumped through after him, and the door snapped shut nearly on her heels.
“I really don’t appreciate your effort to leave me behind,” she said into the darkness of the veil.
Cedar sighed. “I do not want to quarrel with you, but it would be much safer if you would stay in the human world.”
“I don’t want to be safe!” she cried. “I want my husband!”
He sighed again, this time in resignation. “I should not do this,” he murmured to himself. “Take my hand, and please have a care not to stick me with that sword you carry.”
Lily gripped his hand with her left and kept the sword in her right, and thus she followed Cedar through the veil to the Fair Lands.
Chapter 38
An Unexpected Meeting
Theo stepped out of the veil into the clearing just behind Cedar.
“That was worse than anticipated,” he said.
Cedar whirled, magic flaring, before his eyes widened.
Theo swayed as he looked around, noting Oliver’s horrified expression. “Lady Araminta is safe?” Running had perhaps not been the wisest decision; something inside was bleeding more badly than before and there was an unpleasant burble in his chest.
But it couldn’t be helped. The timing was critical.
“I took her back while you were freeing Mr. Hathaway.” Cedar frowned and put a steadying hand on Theo’s shoulder. The fairy lowered his voice in apology. “Your wife came back with me, though.”
Theo twitched in surprise. “Where is she?” He spun about to see her step from behind Oliver. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re meant to be home safe.”
Stricken, Lily covered her mouth and stared at him.
“Can you take her back?” Theo sagged against Cedar’s steadying hand.
“Not if you want me back in time to meet His Majesty.”
Cedar’s grave expression grew grimmer. “Stand still a moment.”
Theo couldn’t help looking back at Lily, though the haze in his vision made it hard to see her expression. He braced his feet a little wider so he wouldn’t fall. Was she holding one of his swords?
Cedar stepped closer and murmured into his ear, “You’re bleeding quite badly, Theo. Do you still want to do this?” As he spoke, he slipped his own magic through Theo’s flesh.
Theo inhaled sharply, acknowledging the pain and then ignoring it. “Yes.”
The fairy probed more deeply, finding the worst of the internal bleeding and slowing it. “It will take longer than we have to fix this. But I can keep you going a little longer.”
“I’m all right.” Theo focused on Lily’s face. As Cedar’s magic worked, the haze receded a little, and he saw how pale she was and how tears were silently sliding down her cheeks.
“What have you done?” she breathed. She was trembling.
He crossed to her and put his hands out to touch her shoulders, then hesitated. His hands were streaked with dark blood, and she was so spotless and pale. Instead, he took her hands lightly in his, barely touching the tips of her fingers.
“I told you I would bring your brother back to you,” he said simply.
She gave a quiet sob.
“Forgive me, Lily,” he said quietly. He knelt before her and looked up at her face. “I misjudged you in the worst way. I thought I had reason, and I meant only to protect my friends. But I was wrong about you.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped through her sobs. “I’m so sorry. I thought…”
He gave a soft, low chuckle. “Oh, Lily. I loved you all the time. I couldn’t help it.”
She fell to her knees in front of him and buried her face in her hands. “I’m sorry.”
Theo gently lifted her chin and met her gaze. “Please don’t cry, my love. It grieves me that I have made you weep.” Seeing her lips trembling, he leaned in to brush a kiss, light as a feather, against her cheek, then said, “May I kiss you again, Mrs. Overton?”
For a moment, he felt no pain at all.
Cedar said, “Theo, it’s time.” He helped Theo up with a strong hand and slid a little more magic cautiously into his friend as he did it. “Is that too much?”
The world narrowed to a tiny pinprick, and Theo’s eyelids fluttered shut for a moment before he steadied himself. “No. It’s helping.” He took several slow breaths, feeling the magic working its way through his torn flesh. “I’ll be all right. Your messages all reached their targets?”
The magic writhed within him, taut and golden, and he pressed his lips together to keep from crying out.
“Yes. The Elders will be there, and the most of the court.”
Theo smiled. “Thank you, my friend.” He indicated the wound on his forehead. “Would you mind?”
Cedar pressed his palm against the wound, then caught Theo’s shoulder as the young man nearly fell. “Stand still,” he muttered. “You’re wobbly as a newborn fawn.”
“I am not!” Theo protested. “It’s just that the world is a little unsteady at the moment,” he admitted. “Lily, why do you have my old sword?”
At her stifled sob, Cedar answered, “It is a testament to how determined she was to come aid you, Theo.”
Theo smiled delightedly. “Did you threaten Cedar? Oh, I wish I had seen that! Are you all ready?”
Concern made a deep furrow between Cedar’s dark eyebrows, but he nodded. “Mrs. Overton, Oliver, clasp hands.”
Theo took Lily’s other hand, his grip light but strong, and Cedar clasped Oliver’s hand, putting himself at the rear of their procession. Theo opened a door and led them into the veil.
Cedar’s magic slithered around Theo’s veins, making the fog in his vision seem to glitter like gold in the darkness of the veil. It brought each torn muscle and pierced bit of skin to his attention, and it was all he could do to keep his footsteps reasonably steady.
“I don’t know how you find your way in here, Theo,” Cedar muttered. “The land loves you.”
Lily’s breath hitched, as if she wanted to weep, and Theo squeezed her hand gently.
“Because I love it,” he said. The pain was receding, leaving a strange, hollow feeling in his arms and legs. His heart thudded raggedly, and he focused on the sensation; his head felt like it was floating away, but the unsteady rhythm of his pulse seemed to keep him grounded.
The farther he walked, the more it became clear that his lungs did not seem to be working correctly. Finally, he gasped, “A little more, if you don’t mind, Cedar.”
The Fair lord reached out and put a hand on Theo’s shoulder. The magic slipped in gently, and Theo felt himself swaying against Cedar’s hand like a sapling in a strong wind.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” he said thickly. The magic felt like a rush of golden light beneath his skin, and suddenly he could breathe again. The sparkles in his vision were so bright that he could not have seen his companions even if there had been light in the veil.
“I didn’t want you to ever need it,” Cedar growled.
“How tired are you? Will you be able to give me more, if necessary?”
The Fair lord hesitated. “I’d rather you not do whatever you’re planning, but yes, I have more magic if you need it.”
“Good.” Theo blinked and shook his head, trying to remember which way was up and which was down.
At the doorway he paused. “I wish I could have taken you home, Lily and Oliver. But there is not enough time for that now, so it will be safest for you if you come with me. Do not speak, no matter what happens.”
They murmured agreement.
“Promise me,” he said, with more urgency in his voice. “No matter what happens, you will not speak.”
“What if they hurt you?” said Lily in an agonized whisper.
“I am quite sure he will,” said Theo. “Nevertheless, trust me, and promise me.”
Lily murmured something like agreement.
“Oliver?” prompted Theo. “Please.”
“Can you ever forgive me?” Oliver breathed. “This is all my fault.”
Theo scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous! I was aggravating His Majesty Silverthorn before I even met you. How can it be your fault?” More urgently, he said again, “Promise me, Oliver.”
“If I must.” Oliver’s voice cracked.
“Cedar?”
The dark lord blinked in surprise, then agreed. “If I must.”
“Also, leave the sword in the veil, please, Lily. It’s not part of my plan, and showing it will only make him angrier.”
Lily shuddered. “Can’t it be of some use?”
“It will only be a hindrance, though I do appreciate your faith in me, if you think I might make good use of it now.” He waited while she laid it on the moss at their feet.
Without another word, Theo opened the door and led them out into the central garden of the Fair palace.
Chapter 39
The Passion of the Wraith
His Majesty Oak Silverthorn had been walking directly toward the space they stepped out of, apparently in a thunderous mood. He stopped in shock.
Even Theo had only caught a few glimpses of him before, so in this moment of brittle silence, all four of them drank in the sight of him. His skin was a pale robin’s egg blue and his eyes gleamed violet. His long hair was a blue so dark it was nearly black. He wore a circlet of silver upon his head, and it was so full of points that it might have been made of an elaborate arrangement of silver thorns. His shirt was a crisp white beneath his indigo jacket and trousers, and he wore a rich cloak of silver and indigo, with the bright, metallic silver fur of some fairy creature around the neck. He was beautiful and terrible, and Lily could not look away fast enough.
Theo swept a low, elaborate bow. “Your Majesty,” he murmured. “Bow, everyone, please.”
The others swept hurried bows and a curtsy, as appropriate.
“I have been wanti
ng to meet you, Your Majesty,” said Theo with another bow. “I believe I have something you might desire.”
The Fair monarch’s fierce eyes narrowed. “Lord Willowvale assured me that he had captured you. I was on my way to see you.”
“He did capture me.” Theo beamed at him cheerfully.
“Yet there you stand.” The king straightened and gave a faint nod. The guards who had been following him fanned around the clearing to surround them, though Theo knew it was hardly necessary.
Vines crept up Theo’s legs to his calves and held him firmly, though no thorns pierced his skin yet. Similar vines held Cedar, Lily, and Oliver in place. The garden shifted and a hush fell across the clearing as more Fair lords and ladies gathered around in a great audience.
“What do you have of mine?” the king asked. He sounded more curious than angry, but his eyes held a murderous glint.
“Your kingdom.”
The air crackled with His Majesty Silverthorn’s anger. “Explain.” The word was sharp as a whip.
Any man but Theo might have quailed under the Fair king’s regard. Theo smiled patiently and said, “First, Your Majesty, I would ask a boon of you, out of your generosity.”
His Majesty Silverthorn burst into startled laughter. “What reason have I to offer you a boon? Are you mad?”
“Probably.” Theo grinned at him. “Do I look utterly sane to you?” He gestured at himself, and the king took a long, thoughtful look at him. His clothes were pierced and torn in a hundred places, blood stains indicated numerous wounds, and he smiled with unfeigned delight at the king.
The Fair monarch tilted his head. “No, you don’t. You may ask. I may deny it.”
Theo swept another low bow without moving his immobilized feet. “Your Majesty, I would ask that whatever happens to me, whatever decisions you make, that you let my wife and her brother return safely to the human world, and that my friend Lord Cedar Mosswing suffer no repercussions.”
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