by Amy Patrick
I stayed silent for long moments, a war raging inside my soul. I wanted to reveal myself to her, this small human girl who had managed to do what no one else had done since Mariana. Make me feel again. But my truth could be a death sentence for her. It was the paramount rule of my people—Keep the secret. And nothing could come of it, nothing good, anyway.
“Nic,” she whispered, stepping closer and lifting her palms to rest on my chest. “You can trust me.”
My self-control broke. Not cracked. Not splintered. It just burst open like an overfilled balloon.
“My betrothal to Alessia was arranged. By our parents. I don’t care for her. I don’t even like her.” My words came out in a rapid stream. “And no, I do not like her father. But I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice. This is your life you’re talking about here, Nic.”
“Yes. It is my life. That’s how it is in my world, among my people. There are some who have… made love matches—in the new world—but here… this is how it’s done, how it’s always been done. We… are not like you.”
“Well, I realize that. You grew up in a castle for one thing, and judging from her princess-y behavior, I’d say Alessia did, too.”
I nodded. “It’s true. We both come from royal families, and our parents have brokered this deal to ensure and increase their power.”
“I didn’t realize Italy and France still had royal families.”
“Not in the sense you’re thinking of. Our families belong to a… different society that exists within the larger one of this world.”
“A secret society. You mean like… Freemasons or the Knights Templar or something?”
“Well, those are human institutions. But something like that.”
“Human institutions…” she repeated, her voice trailing off as the implication hit her. “What are you saying, Nic?”
“I’m saying that when you noticed my… differentness… you were not wrong. You just did not realize how different I really am.”
Her eyes went wide, and she froze in place. She didn’t even appear to be breathing.
“Are you… an alien?”
A loud laugh erupted from my chest. Her assumption was so off-base it was comical. “You mean like from a space ship? No, Macy. My people originated here on Earth. As a matter of fact, we predate the humans. At least the way our history books tell it.”
“Nic.” She appeared to be struggling for breath. “What is going on? You keep saying ‘humans’ like it’s some other thing. Like you’re some other thing.”
I remained quiet, waiting for her to get it and terrified of what would happen when she did.
“You… are?” Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “So, if you’re not an alien… what are you? You look human—well, better than most humans. But you know what I mean.”
I nodded. “Yes, I know what you mean. Our goal in recent centuries has been to blend in with humans, hide our true identities. Your kind reproduce much more quickly and more easily than we do. You outnumber us to a very dangerous degree. Keeping the secret keeps us safe. We do have some special abilities that help us hide in plain sight and ensure our survival. Sway—the thing that helps us get what we want, as you noticed—is one of them.”
“And your special gift, too?” she prompted.
“Yes. It’s my glamour. Each of us has at least one. Some have two. Mine allows me to know a person’s greatest desire, or weakness. Some can heal, some have exceptional musical ability, like Alessia. Her former fiancée has the gift of extreme beauty—to whomever is looking at him, he appears to be their ideal man. He is literally the best-looking person they have ever seen in their lives. Some have leadership glamour, superior artistic or athletic abilities.”
“Do you have that one, too?”
“I do. It comes from my mother’s side. But really, when it comes to sports, any of us could play professionally. Our natural strength and agility is far superior to humans.”
She sat down heavily on the chaise lounge chair behind her. “Any of you could play soccer like that? You’re the best player in the world.”
I shrugged. The title meant nothing to me. “Among my people, my skills are not that exceptional. I might be a little better than the rest.”
“So, why don’t you all play then? You could form a team and win every World Cup, every Super Bowl, every World series.”
“That’s why we don’t. It would be rather suspicious, wouldn’t it? An entire team of extremely tall athletes, all with skills unlike any the world has ever seen. It would draw immediate attention. It would threaten our secret. We space ourselves out among the professional sports, and in the entertainment field as musicians and actors—the fashion modeling world does have an inordinate amount of my kind, but the humans seem to accept that without question.”
She stared at the water in the swimming pool, which rippled in tiny waves from the nighttime breeze. “Your secret,” she repeated. Then she looked up at me. “You said ‘glamour.’ I’ve heard of that before. In books and movies. That’s usually associated with… well… are you a faery?”
Again, I had to laugh. The most frightening conversation of my life, and she had me laughing. I raised a brow and dropped my chin. “Do I look like a faery?”
“Well, no, but I’ve never seen one—I mean, I didn’t realize I had ever seen one—If I did.”
“I’m just kidding. We are Fae. Fata. There are other kinds of Fae, but my people are called Elfi. That’s the Italian word for it. The French name is Elfes. People in your country would call us Elves.”
She blinked several times. “Elves. Like… Lord of the Rings? Arwen, and Legolas, and Galadriel?”
“Read those books, did you? Yes, very much like that. In fact, I heard when those were published in the nineteen-fifties there was an inquisition among the English Court to find out which of us had met the author and revealed our secrets. The Elves he wrote about are somewhat different, though. For one thing, we don’t have pointed ears.” I turned my head to the side to demonstrate the non-pointedness of mine. “And his fictional Elves of Lothlorien and Rivendell were obviously based on Light Elves. Light Elves are still around, but they don’t mix with humankind. In whichever country they live, they stay completely separate and adhere to old ways, living in nature. I’ve met a few of them—very quaint. They don’t even use electricity. They light their homes with phosphorescent stones.”
“So, then, what kind of Elves are you and your family?”
I hesitated before answering, realizing how it was going to sound to her. “We’re members of the Dark Court.”
“Oh. Dark Elves. That sounds like the bad guys.”
Again, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, it depends on what you consider ‘bad.’ We think it’s smart to keep up with the times, to adapt instead of hiding out and insisting on keeping antiquated traditions.”
She was very quiet for a few moments, a succession of expressions working their way across her face as she puzzled over my revelations. “So… there are… Elves all over Europe then?”
“All over the world. In China, my people are called Mogwai. In Spain and Portugal, they’re referred to as Duende. In Romania, we’re called the Zane, and Yaksha in Hindu and Buddhist mythology. Africans tell tales of the Aziza, and even Hawaiians have a legend about the Menehune.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of names.”
“Elves exist in a lot of places. Always have. Our number one rule is Don’t get careless and Don’t get caught. But sometimes we do. Humans have spotted members of our race doing things humans aren’t capable of, and they create a legend to explain it. Of course not all of us are sneaking around in jungles and forests, hiding. We live out in the open, among humans, using our Sway to cover over any incidents where our secret might be exposed.”
“You mentioned musicians and actors.” I could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she pictured the celebrities she knew, trying to figure out which ones were Elven.
“Are all the ones with fan pods Elven?”
Ah—she put that one together faster than I’d expected. “Yes. With the advent of television it was discovered that modern technology like sound waves and broadband signals and digital code enhances our natural glamour. That’s when the fan pod idea was born. It’s expected of all of us—at least those who have glamours that put them into the spotlight in the human world—to court fame and amass large groups of fangirls and boys, gaining their devotion, spreading our social footprint. As humans’ use of technology has increased, so has our power and influence.”
“So then… the American celebrities who just disbanded their fan pods. Reggie Dillon the NFL player. Vallon Foster the movie star? Serena Simmons? All of them are… Elven?”
“Yes,” I repeated. “I know it’s a lot to take in. You see why I couldn’t answer your questions honestly? You would have thought I was a raving lunatic. Or a liar.” Gauging her expression, I realized that was still a distinct possibility. “Do you believe me?”
She was quiet. Just breathing and staring at me as if she could see right through my eyes into my soul. “I think so. I don’t know. It’s all so… impossible. But it feels like you’re being honest with me. Maybe you are crazy. Or maybe I am.”
“Macy.” I reached toward her. She shrank away from me. The automatic fear response caused a pinching sensation in my heart.
She’s afraid of me.
I let my hand drop. I wouldn’t try to touch her again. I wouldn’t force her to stay with me. My heart felt like a hot poker inside my chest. I’d known the truth would be too much for her, and yet I’d opened my foolish mouth and told her anyway. What was wrong with me? I’d kept the secret for nineteen years with no trouble. Why now? Why with her?
“It’s okay,” I said. “I understand. I will still help you at the passport office tomorrow, and then you can do whatever you want. You can stay here in Florence. I’ll pay for a hotel room for you while you wait for your papers to be processed. Or…” It was such a foolish hope I shouldn’t even have said it. “… you can return with me to the castle. Whatever you wish.”
She nodded woodenly, not meeting my eyes. In shock, perhaps. Merda! Why had I told her?
“Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”
She shook her head and stood, turning toward the terrace doors and walking across the roof deck like a very calm, very pretty zombie. I followed her inside, noting with satisfaction that Bardo was not in the living area. I had sent him a mental command as soon as he’d brought the wine glass to me, dismissing him to go to bed. I didn’t want to take the chance he’d overhear anything Macy said. Good call, as it turned out, since I’d ended up spilling my guts.
As we reached the door of her room it occurred to me—I wouldn’t be able to sway her and make her forget or prevent her from repeating what I’d told her.
I had broken our cardinal rule, revealed the secret, and then offered to let her go free. How utterly selfish of me. It had felt so good to unburden myself, to open up to her. I’d wanted her to know me—the real me. I guess I’d been hoping for acceptance. I’d probably just signed her death warrant.
She’d never struck me as an attention seeker, so I didn’t expect to see her giving an interview on a world news channel, but would she be able to keep from telling anyone? Her friends? Her family, if she ever found the courage to face them again?
If I was wrong and she did talk to the media, even anonymously, someone would take whatever steps were necessary to silence her. My people had ways of finding things out. Just as I was to Mariana, I was dangerous to Macy. My stupidity in letting myself develop feelings for her could get her killed.
As if reading my mind, Macy turned to me just outside her bedroom door. “I won’t tell anyone what you told me tonight.” Her eyes finally lifted to meet mine. “I don’t want you to worry.”
The softness of her voice and the vulnerable look in her huge green eyes stole my breath. I couldn’t respond, only nodded and watched her go into the room and shut the door. Would she be there when I woke in the morning? Or was that the last glimpse I would ever have of Macy?
My insides went numb with dread as I turned to go to my own room and attempt the impossible task of falling asleep.
16
Macy
The next morning at breakfast, Nic kept stealing glances at me. Every time I looked up from my pastry and cappuccino, his eyes seemed to be on me, like he wasn’t quite sure if I was really there or a figment of his imagination.
I was the one who should have been doubting my eyes. Or my mind, more accurately. What kind of fool would believe the things he’d told me last night? They were unbelievable.
And yet—I did believe him. His story couldn’t be true. But it had to be. There was no other explanation for the things I’d seen since coming to his castle and meeting him. In its own bizarre, twisted way, it all made sense.
I’d thought about it most of the night, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. As soon as I’d drift off, my mind would conjure up images of Elven people walking through the treetops or sitting on golden thrones wearing crowns. Nic was one of them. Strangely the image fit him, as if my sleeping brain could more easily accept the crazy things he’d said.
And despite what I’d said to him last night after his confession, I knew he wasn’t insane. He was one of the most rational people I’d ever met. And he wasn’t a liar. The emotion in his eyes—in his voice—was completely genuine.
So what was I supposed to do with all this? It was overwhelming. Part of me just wanted to get away from here, from all this weirdness, from this person who made me feel so much and doubt my own sanity. I’d packed my bag last night, strongly suspecting that what I should do was sneak out of the suite. But the answers he’d given me had only created more questions. I wanted to know more. And for Olly’s sake, I needed to know.
What was going on with the fan pods? Why did the Dark Elves keep them? I’d already figured out that the girls in the pods—most of them, anyway—were swayed. But why? If the Dark Elves weren’t the bad guys, then why did they need to essentially brainwash the girls? And if they were the bad guys… what did that make Nic?
I had a sneaking suspicion the disappearance of my passport and money had not been a simple case of theft by the housekeeping staff. I was willing to bet none of the girls in the castle would be able to locate their passports if they ever bothered to search for them. And that was the thought that cemented my decision to stay with Nic. I had to get Olly out of there. Today. And the only way to do that was with Nic’s help.
“Thank you,” I said, breaking the silence between us and causing him to startle. “For telling me the truth last night. I realize that couldn’t have been easy, and I appreciate you putting your trust in me.”
His eyes were wide, his breathing fast. He set his fork down very carefully beside his plate. “You believe me then?”
“I don’t know how it’s possible for something like this to exist in the world without humans knowing about it, but… I believe you.”
“Humans have learned the truth from time to time throughout history. Normally someone sways them, and they forget.”
“But… it doesn’t always work, does it? I mean, I don’t think it works on me.”
“No. It doesn’t. I’m not sure why. Just as there are humans who can’t be hypnotized, there are those who can’t be swayed. You are apparently one of them.”
“And Olly, too.” My heartbeat accelerated as I considered it. “What if somebody figures that out? What will happen to her?”
“I don’t think fan pod girls are a major concern for anyone. They’re only given a light dose of Sway to help with homesickness. No one’s paying that much attention.”
“What if they do? I mean, what’s happened in the past when one of your people tried to sway somebody, and it didn’t work?”
“Well, there have been times when… more drastic measures were taken.”
/> “They were killed?”
He didn’t answer my question, just stared at me solemnly. “I would never allow anything to happen to you.” The warmth of his large hand covered mine on the tabletop. “I hope you know that, Macy.”
Fighting for breath, my pulse racing, I pulled my hand away from his. “I want to go back with you today—to the castle.”
Nic’s eyebrows lifted. “You do?”
“Yes. For Olly. I have to help her. I need to get her out of there. Today at the passport office—I want you to use your… Sway—or whatever, to help her. Get her a passport, too. I know you can do it.”
His expression fell, but he inhaled deeply and then nodded. “Very well. I will do what I can. You should get your things packed. The office opens soon.”
“Already done,” I told him. “Lead the way.”
* * *
The drive to the ferry was awkward. There wasn’t just an elephant in the room—it was more like a whole herd.
I was sitting in the car with someone who wasn't human. He was gorgeous, yes. And sweet, and funny, and the most interesting guy I’d ever known. But he was not like any of the guys I’d ever known. He was something from a fairy tale, from the fantasy book section in my town’s library. He had seen more, done more, was capable of more than I ever would be.
And although he had indeed helped me file for a new passport this morning—and put in an application for Olly as well—it was hard for me to believe he was just going to let us walk away, not after telling me what was supposed to be top secret. I half expected to be thrown back into my locked room at the castle the instant I set foot in the door.
“What will happen when we get back?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
“I will arrange to have Olly sent to me, and then I will find a way to get you both out of the castle and into a safe place where you can wait for your passports to be processed. After that, you can leave the country.”
