by A. E. Lowan
Which brought her to the question of whether or not she wanted to find her mother at all. She had been four years-old when her mother had left. As a child she had thought that with the conditions of the binding broken her mother was somehow banished from the Mortal Realm. But as she got older and became more educated she had learned that wasn’t the case at all. The break had only banished her from contact with Colin. There were many stories of faerie wives returning to care for their children. But Tersa never had. She had only cared about Colin.
… toppled in a boneless heap on the ground…
“Are you coming?”
Winter jerked herself from the memory, sharp as a freshly broken bone. Lana was looking at her with impatience, the passenger-side door open. The Bug was parked, the ignition off, and the keys were warm in her hand. “Yes.” Her voice rasped, and she cleared her tightened throat. “Yes,” she repeated, and busied herself with putting away her keys and getting out of the car to cover the few moments she needed to recover.
Lana either didn’t notice or didn’t care – or maybe she understood all too well. Winter didn’t know. Lana simply shut the car door without a backward glance and left Winter to it.
Winter led the way around the century-and-a-half-old brick buildings and crossed the pedestrian-only street, to come to a pause before the locked wooden gate that guarded the wide gap between East Meets West and Other World Books. The merchants’ kids played in the grassy courtyard beyond. It was a small, green oasis with a couple of trees and some newish playground equipment that she could hear whining and sighing in time with young voices. She remembered watching her sisters climb those trees. How Sorcha and Mirilyn’s coppery hair had shone in the sunlight as they dared each other to clamber ever higher. Winter had never been a tree climber, but their cousins, Kelley and Martina, and the rest, all of them had been so adventurous.
She stopped, her hand on the lock, and closed her eyes as pain knifed through her chest. She needed to stop this. If she survived the coming confrontation she would take time to grieve. And if she died, then she would join them. Either way, she needed to focus on getting through this crisis.
Just like she had to every single day.
Winter stuffed that thought down harder than the rest, that self-indulgent, self-pitying thought, and opened her eyes, her mouth tight. An unlocking cantrip made swift work of the lock, faster than digging the key from her cavernous bag, and she let the three fae through the gate, pulling it shut and locking it behind her.
Tucked in the cool shadow between the two brick buildings, out of sight – hopefully – of the playing children, Winter dug out her felt tip pen and drew misdirection glyphs on the backs of all their hands. She felt the corners of her mouth pull into a small smile as she remembered the last time she had done this. She had been alone and had come to reinforce the seals on the Gate below the bookstore. One of the children had spotted her drawing “pictures” on herself and she ended up spending the next twenty minutes decorating the whole gaggle in spell chalk with made-up designs. But luck was with her today as she spoke the Words of Command and each ward glowed bright for a moment in turn without pint-sized interference.
Etienne took a step forward and Winter held up a staying hand. “One more moment, please.” He nodded and she shifted to her magical sight. And then sighed as it seemed her luck had come to an end. There was Brian, glowing bright and moving around the storefront. She had hoped that he would be away, working at one of his many side jobs. This was going to make getting into the bookstore basement a bit more difficult. She reverted to normal sight. “We’ll need to be as quiet as possible. Brian is working in the store.” She hitched her purple canvas bag higher on her shoulder and moved in the direction of the bookstore’s backroom door.
“Who’s Brian?” Lana asked with a note of mild interest.
“He’s my cousin.” Which was an accurate enough description. Norah and toddler Justin were very distant cousins, and Brian was adopted, but they were all the family Winter had left and she would protect them. Somehow. If only she could come up with a pretense for getting them out of the city and away from their business on such short notice.
“Brian is Jessie’s friend,” Cian added as they followed Winter. “He could see through the glamour that the black-haired sidhe lord cast over himself, when we were getting away.”
“What?” Etienne sounded shocked. “How?” He had apparently not overheard Jessie mention it at the Theatre, earlier.
Winter held up her hand for silence. They were close to the door and she had no desire to answer the question, anyway.
The children continued to play without as much as a curious glance in their direction. None of them had the spark of magic needed to see past the wards. Winter shifted again to her magical sight, making sure that Brian was still in the storefront, not in the backroom which would really make things difficult, and then listened hard for Norah’s voice. She was greeted with silence – which really only meant that there was no one making noise. She pressed her finger to her lips, and touched the knob for the unlock –
“Be vewy, vewy qwiet,” Lana whispered.
Winter raised an eyebrow at her.
Lana grinned and shrugged, clearly amused with herself.
Etienne frowned for an instant, and then rolled his eyes as he made the connection.
Cian looked at all three of them with an expression of mild confusion.
Winter performed the unlocking cantrip and pushed the door open just enough to see that the backroom was, indeed, empty. Some of the tension released from her shoulders and she eased it open further, her attention now on the playing children, on the alert for any who might be looking too closely at a door that seemed to be opening all by itself. But they busied themselves with their games as the fae slipped in passed her, and Winter followed them, closing the door again.
The backroom was long and narrow, with the staircase leading up to the family apartment on the wall to their left. The basement stairs were tucked underneath, facing the swinging door to the store front. As they rounded the tight corner she saw the basement door was closed, the baby gate pulled shut in front of it. Winter’s brows knit in concentration as she lifted the latch on the little plastic gate…
“I saw one on the shelf back here.” Brian pushed through the swinging door as he spoke and turned just in time to see Winter. His dark brows shot up and he looked at the three strangers behind her with confusion. “What…?”
“Hello, hottie,” Lana murmured with enthusiasm behind Winter.
Winter didn’t swat the succubus, but it was a close thing.
“Brian?” Norah pushed open the swinging door and leaned through, her dark, curly hair in a messy bun. “Could you snag another box of register tape while you’re back here?”
There was nothing for Winter to do but point at Norah and shake her head. “She can’t see us,” she mouthed. Blast it! She didn’t want Brian involved.
Brian blinked, his back to his mother, and then exasperation flashed across his handsome face.
Not the response Winter was expecting.
Brian schooled his expression as he crossed to the long line of shelves. “Sure, no problem.”
Norah smiled and ducked back into the store front.
Brian waited for his mother to disappear for his expression to turn wry and he faced Winter again. “So… are you finally coming out of the broom closet, then?” he whispered. He glanced past her and offered a smile and his hand in greeting to her fae companions. “I’m Brian MacDowell. Pleased to meet you.”
Winter watched Etienne take Brian’s hand, her mind racing. She needed to lie, but what could she say? She’d been lying to Brian for years and now it seemed he knew something, at least. But how? “What did Jessie tell you?”
Brian shook his head. “She didn’t tell me anything. But street kids see a lot of things other people don’t.” He shrugged. “I saw some strange stuff before Norah and Jake adopted me.” He glanced back at the fae b
ehind her. “But why are you here?”
Winter reached into her bag for a tube of forgetting powder, but the moment it touched her hand Brian changed. The spark of magic within him, before like a candle’s flame, burst into golden, glorious life, brighter than anything she’d ever seen.
Lana and Cian gasped, and Etienne swore. “He’s a fucking Hero?”
Winter dropped the forgetting powder and bowed her head, defeated by Fate. Brian’s Hero’s Journey had begun.
Brian frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Winter gave him a sad smile. “I’ll explain down in your basement. There’s something I need to show you there.”
Brian gave Winter a skeptical look, but at last he nodded. “Okay.” He thought it was about time. He brought Norah the requested box of register tape, told her he was running upstairs for a few minutes, and then led Winter and her three friends downstairs.
The basement was fairly uncluttered, given its dirt floor and tendency to leak during hard rains, which in the Pacific Northwest they had with frequency. It took up the entire length of the bookstore building, about a third of the block. The ceiling was rather high for an old basement and the walls were stone, and here and there were weight-bearing stone pillars at regular intervals. Towards the far end was the Gap, the large space where stones had fallen in at some point, leaving a huge hole in the wall. Someone at some point had covered it with an iron grate, to keep kids out of it Brian had always supposed. He’d always been curious about what was back behind there, but the lock had proven to be frozen shut and with Justin being so little Brian hadn’t wanted to risk breaking it just to explore.
Brian paused for a moment at the bottom of the stairs and then turned to face Winter. “Does this have anything to do with me not being allowed into the Theatre this morning?”
Winter nodded. “It does, but some secrets aren’t mine to tell.”
Brian didn’t like that, with Jessie spending so much time there, but he’d have to accept it for now. “Okay… so what can you tell me?”
Winter steepled her hands and touched her index fingers to her lower lip. He knew that expression well. It was her thinking face. Finally, she said, “I can tell you that I’m a wizard.” She thought for another moment. “And so is Jessie.”
“A wizard? Not a witch?”
“It’s not a gendered term. A witch is something else, a blanket term for something more spiritual.”
Brian nodded, adding that to his shifting worldview. He glanced at Winter’s friends, curious now.
“I’m a sidhe,” Etienne said.
Brian blinked.
Etienne scowled. “Why the hell does English have to be so damn difficult?” He pointed at himself. “I’m a faerie knight. A male one.”
Brian’s brows rose as understanding dawned. “Oh!” He thought about that for a moment. “I thought fairies were little with wings.”
Cian smiled brightly. “We’re like Legolas!”
“From The Lord of the Rings?”
“Yep.”
Brian looked at Cian a little more closely. “But you don’t have pointed ears.”
Lana made an irritated noise. “That’s because we’re not Tolkien elves. We’re fae.” She looked from boy to boy and finally rolled her eyes. “But it’s close enough for government work. The whole explanation would take too long and none of us has that kind of time.”
Winter laid a hand on Cian’s shoulder. “Which brings me to the reason we’re here.” She proceeded to spin a story of kidnapped faerie princes and a would-be king who sought to turn Seahaven into his very own fairyland. She finally stopped, giving him a curious look. “You’re taking this very well.”
Brian’s gaze flickered to the three fae and back to her before he shrugged. “I was on the streets until I was eleven. Street kids see a lot of weird in this city and I saw my share. People turning into animals and… things happening.” He still sometimes woke up to the memory of the screaming. “So it’s not a big stretch that there’s magic in the world. I’m assuming a wizard has something to do with magic?”
Winter nodded.
“I’ve figured Jessie was mixed up with something like that for years. She hangs out at the Theatre and everyone on the streets knows that there’s something going on there. Not, ‘kids go in but they don’t come out’ something, but still something.” That sort of horror happened in South City and the Warehouse District. Unfortunately, the bus station was located in the Warehouse District, so new arrivals to the homeless scene had to survive a gauntlet to make it to the relative safety of the Historical District, assuming they knew to even try.
“Fair enough.” Winter gave him a small smile and it went all the way to her eyes. Brian’s breath caught. When had that happened? She still looked exhausted and sad, but there was life to her again, like watching Norah come back from depression. He smiled in return.
The thought of his mom brought him to another question. “Why can I see you, but Norah can’t?” It reminded him somehow of the guy who trashed the side of the van that morning, the one who’d actually chased them up the drive.
Come to think of it, he was having a really weird day.
Winter held out her hand, which had a complex design drawn on the back. “This is a misdirection ward. It’s magic.” She moved her hand and sure enough the glyph had a barely perceptible shimmer to it. “What it does is it encourages human eyes to scan past whoever or whatever it’s cast on, and whatever we’re engaged with. It makes working near humans – those without a magical spark – easier and safer.”
“It’s pretty.” Brian’s brows twitched at the word “human.” What did that make him? “So, do I have a ‘magical spark,’ then? And what does that mean?”
Winter looked like she was gathering her thoughts. Was this part of the “some secrets weren’t hers to tell” thing? “You do. You always have, ever since I first met you.”
“But why? I’m just me.”
She looked pained. Why? “You’re something very special, Brian. You’re a Hero.”
He could practically hear the capitalization. He glanced at Etienne, remembering what the faerie knight had said before. He’d made it sound like it wasn’t a good thing. “What’s a Hero? And why do we need to be in the basement?”
Winter looked past him. “Well, your basement question is a bit easier to answer.” She made her way across the dimly lit space towards the wrought iron gate. “This is what we’re here for.”
“The Gap?” Brian followed her, the three fae trailing behind him.
Winter nodded and hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. “It’s much more than just a hole in the wall. It’s a stable gateway to the realm of Faerie, and we need to travel through it.” She pulled out a ring on a silver chain around her neck and began fiddling with the broken lock.
Brian tilted his head just to one side, his dreads shifting against his cheek, trying to figure out what she was doing. “Why do you need to go there?”
“Because we’re looking for help,” Etienne said while Winter was working. “This Midir that Winter told you about has an army of fae standing between us and the rift he’s creating. We need an army of our own.”
Brian’s brows rose. “You know where to find one?”
Lana smirked. “Damn skippy we do. My king has a fine army and a strong desire to see Midir on a spit.” She glanced at Cian. “And his king is owed a blood debt. Midir kidnapped his son.”
Brian took a long look at the wrought iron gate, watching Winter as she drew symbols in the air. She might seem happier, but she was also still thin and sick, and he didn’t know these other people, yet. “Can I help?” The question fell out of his mouth, but it felt right. Winter needed his help.
“No.” Winter and Etienne answered in unison and shared a look before Winter freed the lock with a loud clang and pulled the door open. “You’re not ready,” she explained. “To answer your other ques-”
Etienne’s head jerked around towards the opening
, frowning. “What’s that noise?”
A grunting, rustling sound filtered through the hole and a moment later a gray blur of movement exploded out the opening as a massive… thing entered the basement. It slammed the iron gate further open, knocking Winter backwards with a cry, and bellowed, it’s huge hand smoking.
The creature crouched for a moment, its head brushing the basement ceiling, and looked at them with small, hungry yellow eyes. Its lumpy, stocky body was studded with what looked like stones and its broad shoulders were easily as wide as Brian was tall.
Etienne pointed at the gateway with his sword and spoke in a lilting language, seeming to order the creature through it, while Cian eased towards Winter, who lay on her side behind the creature.
The creature bellowed again, cutting off Etienne’s demands, and lunged forward, grabbing for the faerie knight. Etienne stabbed at the creature’s hand, his dark-edged blade sliding in a smoking trail over the rocky skin. The creature punched at Etienne with its other hand and the faerie knight danced away, but not fast enough and the creature clipped him with its stone-covered knuckles. Etienne spun, his sword flying from suddenly limp fingers, and smacked against the wall hard enough that Brian heard the crack of bone against rock.
The faerie knight fell to the dirt, stunned.
Cian ducked behind the creature and picked Winter up into his arms, just in time to keep her from being trampled.
Brian charged forward without a second thought and caught up Etienne’s sword, brandishing it at the creature. He had to hold its attention long enough to give Cian a chance to get Winter away. He had to figure out how to kill something covered in stone.
He had no idea what he was doing.
“Stab it with the pointy end!” Lana had a dagger in each hand and was circling around to the back of the creature.
Brian dodged a swipe of the thing’s fist. “Where?”
“Anywhere between the stones!”
What was she talking about? The thing was entirely covered. And then he saw it, a small gap where a stone had broken away. It was his only chance. He dove for it, sword at the ready.
