Fey Hearted

by N. E. Conneely

  “Sit, both of you. What on earth happened this morning?”

  “I don’t know,” Silverlight said dully. “She was gone when we woke up. We looked but couldn’t find her. Then Fireheart showed up, and you know how it went from there.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “We don’t know.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing useful,” Everblue said. “She wasn’t very happy last night, but I thought it was just leftover stress from dealing with Dyna.”

  Silverlight sat there, wishing he knew something that would help them, but all he could think about were Rose’s strange words: Cayenne, chocolate, and pie. I have only one regret. All those things connected to her grandmother, but how would her grandmother have gotten a message to her here?

  “Did she ever solve the riddle?” Alda asked.

  “We got a couple of the letters, but couldn’t fill it in. So far, we figured out that it’s something-R-something-S,” Everblue said.

  “Father didn’t want to her solve the riddle,” Silverlight added. “He asked me to tell him if she was working on it.” He looked at Everblue. “That’s why I left the room. I didn’t want to have anything to tell him.”

  Alda nodded. “The first time you saw Dyna, did she say anything or was it just the riddle?”

  Silverlight thought for a moment. “Dyna said, ‘You do not understand what the magic can do.’ She also said, ‘Why doesn’t the little human speak? Does she not want to know what she stands to lose?’”

  “Could you repeat the riddle to me?” Alda asked.

  Everblue dug around in his pocket and handed her a scrap of paper.

  Silverlight looked at him, mouth agape. “You wrote it down?”

  Everblue shrugged. “No one was going to think to ask me if I had a copy.”

  Alda looked at the paper for a moment and then handed it to Silverlight. He read through it once before sighing. “I know what it means.” He swallowed, hard. “Iris. Her grandmother. That’s what she stood to lose. That’s what she was talking about in there.”

  Alda looked uncertain. “She didn’t say anything about her grandmother.”

  “Cayenne and chocolate were things her grandmother had put in pumpkin pies. ‘I have only one regret’ was a reference to a story she told me about how she had promised to be there when Iris died.”

  “So do you think her grandmother is dying?” Everblue asked. “How would she even know that?”

  Silverlight’s heart sank. “Oh no.”

  “What?” Alda demanded.

  “I took her to the pool. The one that shows what you most want to see? It showed Rose her family. If she figured out the riddle, that would have been her first stop. She would have seen if her grandmother was dying.”

  Alda studied the two boys. “So do we help her?”

  Silverlight looked at Alda in shock. If they helped her, it would pit them against the most respected fey in Veles. They could suffer the same punishment as Rose for breaking the law—or worse.

  “Yes,” Everblue said.

  They turned to look at Silverlight.

  “Well?” Alda asked.

  He wasn’t sure what to say. All he could think of was his mom. When he used to ask about her family, she would give him a smile and lose herself in a story. It was only when she finished that she got sad. How different would things have been if she had been able to say good-bye to them?

  Perhaps cell wasn’t the right word for the room, but for all the fey comforts, it was still a room in the healing house designed for the mentally unbalanced. The bed was firmly attached to the floor, the chair and table were as solidly fastened as the bed, and the window was high off the ground and narrow. The mattress had a pillow sculpted in so it was all one piece, and there wasn’t a blanket to be found.

  While she was waiting for whomever to show up and evaluate her, Rose tried to persuade the magic to do something that would help. While she could change the light and temperature of the room, she couldn’t get the door to open. Whoever had designed this room had made sure the person inside would remain safe.

  That was fine. Rose would figure out another way to escape. However, that didn’t solve the problem of getting through the Slit. Until she figured that out, escape wasn’t really worth the effort.

  The door creaked open, and Moonbeam walked in. Hands on her hips, she surveyed Rose. “I don’t want to know the details. The more impartial I seem, the more I can help. Told them for years that the no-contact rule was cruel.”

  Rose nodded.

  “I’ve been directed by no fewer than four people to look you over and see what I think.” Moonbeam sat next to her and reached out her hands. “May I?”

  “Yes.”

  Moonbeam rested her fingers against each of Rose’s temples. A wave of peace rushed over her, and Rose felt the tension in her shoulders melting away and the pressure in her head easing. She hadn’t known she’d even had a headache until now.

  Sighing, Moonbeam pulled her hands back. “I’ll tell them what I’m telling you. You’ve been worried, stressed, and emotional, but you are in no way unstable or unsuited for life here. As far as I am concerned, you were acting like a normal person.” She stood up to leave.

  “That’s it?” Rose asked.

  “That’s it. I can’t find anything wrong with you, and I don’t really want to help them.”

  “Why not?”

  Moonbeam frowned. “They aren’t healers. They don’t see the fey hearted who are tormented by what they left behind, by abandoning their families. I’ve long said we should find a more moderate solution. In the past, this made sense. It was determined that allowing visits caused trouble, and the current system was developed. But until I can change the rules, I abide by them and do my best for the ones who are hurt.”

  With that, she let herself out of the room, leaving Rose with more to think about on a day when her brain was already full. She appreciated Moonbeam’s support, but it was entirely spiritual. It didn’t help Rose get out of this room or into the human world. She closed her eyes and hoped that her grandmother could hold on. It was going to take a little longer, but Rose would be at her side in the end.

  “Let me in, Alda,” Waterfall yelled as he banged on the door.

  “I don’t let in rude people. Ask nicely and you might get entry,” she shouted back.

  Silverlight thought he heard teeth grinding from his seat across the room. Then there was a soft knock. “May I please come in?”

  Alda unlocked the door and opened it. “You aren’t going to stir up trouble, are you?”

  “I merely wish to talk to my son.”

  She snorted. “Talk politely or I’ll be throwing you out.”

  Waterfall glared at her but didn’t reply. Once he was inside, he looked at Alda and Silverlight. “Is there somewhere private we could talk?”

  “Only if you’re polite,” Alda said.

  “This way,” Silverlight said, guiding his father into the side room. This was going to be ugly, no matter how many threats Alda made.

  Waterfall closed the door behind him, turned, and studied his son. “I would expect to hear of such treachery from my son,” he said in a tight voice. “The one I have asked to tell me of budding trouble. I would not expect to stumble upon it in the forest.”

  “And I would expect my father to be more understanding rather than hauling my fey hearted off to be judged.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me what she was doing?”

  “I. Did. Not. Know.” Silverlight spaced out the words, hoping they would penetrate his father’s thick skull. “I did not know where she was. Before Fireheart showed up at the house, I thought she had taken a morning walk or gone to visit the elementals. All I knew was that she wasn’t where I thought she would be. That’s hardly worth reporting.”

  “It is when Dyna has been involved.”

  “And how would I know if the events were connected? Face it, if you had given me actual information, I
might have done something differently, but it’s too late now.”

  “I told you what you needed to know,” Waterfall said.

  “No, you told me what you thought I could be trusted with.” Silverlight took a deep breath, but it didn’t calm him. “Here’s a truly novel idea: you could’ve talked to Rose. Communicated. Then perhaps this entire series of events could’ve been avoided. But no, you’d rather have me spy on her.”

  “If you told me what she was doing—”

  “What is it you think I knew? What do you think she was doing?”

  “Breaking our laws, attempting to violate the blood contract and reveal us to the humans.”

  “Why? Why would she want the humans to know about us? This is the life she always wanted.” Silverlight sighed. “I thought you liked humans. After all, mother was human.”

  Waterfall’s eyes widened, and he turned away. “Don’t bring your mother into this.”

  “Why not? You know as well as I do that she always mourned her family.”

  “Beatrice was a wonderful wife and mother, but she wasn’t a strong woman. You know that as well as I do.”

  Silverlight set a hand on his father’s shoulder. “Mother was strong of spirit and weak of body. Her mind worked just fine, and her grief was real. Maybe you didn’t listen, but I did. And she spoke fondly and sadly of her family, the family she would never be able to introduce me to.”

  Waterfall jerked away from Silverlight’s hand. “George got one thing right: fey hearted must be willing to sacrifice their previous lives. Your mother was, even if she clung too strongly to the memory.”

  “You won’t win this fight with me. I did nothing to hurt whatever investigation you were running.” Silverlight sucked in a breath. “And I have no desire to further aid you on this matter.”

  “I never thought I’d see the day when my own son would stand against me.”

  “And I had hoped to never see the day when I thought of you as narrow-minded and set in your ways, so we’ll both regret this moment.” Silverlight walked out of the room, unwilling to continue a dialogue that held nothing but hot-tempered words and hurt feelings. It wasn’t what his mother would have wanted. There was one thing she had died wanting, though, and maybe Silverlight could give Rose the gift his mother had never gotten.

  Chapter 28

  By nightfall, Rose had gotten bored. She still hadn’t figured out a way to escape the room, and it had been hours since Waterfall had stopped by to tell her that there wouldn’t be a decision about her punishment until tomorrow. Moonbeam’s short visits hadn’t been all that interesting, since she didn’t want to talk, simply deliver food and retrieve the empty tray.

  Rose had given up on thinking and was trying unsuccessfully to will herself to sleep when the door creaked and opened. From her bed, she watched as a figure slipped inside and closed the door without announcing itself. Her breath caught, and she debated asking who it was or yelling for help when the figure stepped into the light from the window.

  “Silverlight?” Rose whispered. “What are you doing here?”

  He came over to the bed. “That depends on you. Why did you want to go through the Slit?”

  “The truth?”

  “Yes, the total and complete truth.”

  “I went to the pond. My grandmother… She remembers me, and she’s dying. I have to keep my promise. I have to be there for her.” Rose brushed tears off her cheeks. She hadn’t even realized she’d been crying.

  Silverlight was looking at her with sympathetic eyes. His kindness and understanding were her undoing. In a rush, she explained everything, from the riddle to Dyna’s warnings and the previous glimpse she’d gotten of her grandmother in the pool.

  Silverlight pulled her in for a hug, and she let him hold her. Someone was on her side.

  He pulled back and met her gaze. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “That’s great, but unless I can get through the Slit, it doesn’t matter.”

  “I have a plan for that, too.”

  “Oh? From the wording in that contract, I thought it wasn’t possible.”

  “I’ll explain later.” Pulling her over to the door, he checked the hallway. “Come on.”

  Rose followed him out the door and down the hall. When he shoved her into an empty room, she didn’t protest. He seemed to have a plan, and this was more help than she’d expected.

  It took a few minutes, but they made it outside. It wasn’t until they were well away from the healing house and deep in the woods that Rose felt comfortable talking again.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “You’re my friend. That’s what friends do.” There was a pause, and then his voice got rough. “And my mom would’ve wanted this.”

  Not sure what to say, Rose slid her hand into his and squeezed.

  He squeezed back.

  A few minutes later, Silverlight sighed. “I’m going to hand you off to Everblue. He’ll help you get to the Slitan, but then he has to leave. I can’t go any farther because I’ll be missed. Alda has, with the help of a few of your friends, organized a distraction.”

  “Pearl?”

  “Well, she wanted to, but it would be too suspicious. I think she’s on lookout duty near the Slit.” He pressed a piece of paper into her hand. “Alda said if you had the contract with you, you would be able to void it and get to the human world. She stole it earlier.”

  Her mind was spinning. “Those directions aren’t very clear. Can I get more details?”

  “If I had more, I’d give them to you. You’ve got maybe two hours from the time you get to the Slitan to do what you need to do in the human world and return to the healing house. By then, the distraction will have run its course and someone will have gone to check on you.”

  Silverlight stopped, turned Rose to face him, and pulled her in for a hug. She tried to hug him back, but he’d crushed her arms to her sides. “You can do this. Pearl wants you to do this. I want you to do this.”

  He released her and ran into the woods. Rose reached out, but her hand caught only air. She couldn’t even call out to him for fear of discovery. He was risking everything to help her, and she hadn’t even thanked him.

  “Rose?” Everblue’s voice was soft. “Come on. We still have a ways to go.”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  Everblue must have sensed she was upset because he gave her a hug and only then said, “We don’t have much time.”

  That got her feet moving, and it didn’t take long for the wave of emotion to settle down. “How did you get dragged into this?” she whispered.

  “I volunteered.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.” A long moment later, Everblue continued. “I can’t imagine leaving my family. In my mind, if Rebecca had been able to visit her family or choose to return home, there would’ve been a different outcome.”

  Swallowing hard, Rose nodded. Then she realized that in the dark Everblue wouldn’t have seen that motion. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I had a different choice.”

  “I know.”

  That was the last thing either of them said for some time. Rose wasn’t sure if Everblue was quiet because he didn’t feel the need to talk about anything else, if it was a byproduct of sneaking through the woods, or if the weight of their actions was too heavy on him, as it was on her, to allow for conversation.

  Rose was still worried that she wouldn’t be able to open the Slit. Silverlight’s directions hadn’t been as clear as she would have liked. Though if it was like other fey magic, there were several ways to get the magic to reach the same end point. The trick was figuring out the right way to ask. Thanks to the practice with more complex lessons and how to frame requests, she at least had a chance of getting through the Slit.

  Though getting through was only one part of the battle. She still had to reach her grandmother’s house and then, magic willing, get back through the Slit.

  That last part was tricky. Depending
on what they had in mind for a punishment, it might be better to stay in the human world. Besides, whatever punishment they had decided upon would undoubtedly be adjusted when she returned to include her new list of crimes. According to Waterfall and the others, she was breaking every one of their most sacred laws.

  But her family hadn’t raised a coward. This was where she was happy, and this was the life her grandmother had wanted for her. Rose would come back and try to rebuild with whatever scraps of her life were left.

  In front of her, Everblue came to a stop. She quickly halted, careful not to slam into him. They were only a short distance from the Slitan.

  “Stay here,” he whispered.

  He walked slowly into the forest. Rose guessed he was looking for other people, trying to see if anyone was lurking in the darkness, waiting to catch them. A couple of minutes later, he reappeared on her other side.

  “It looks clear. The Slitan is straight ahead, about fifteen feet. You can’t miss it.” He pulled her in for another hug. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. Good luck.”

  “Thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

  Everblue patted her shoulder and moved away.

  As the forest swallowed him, a wave of loneliness washed over her. It was one thing to do brave or stupid things with friends at your side, but doing them alone was something else entirely.

  Silverlight jogged through woods, ducking under branches and jumping over protruding roots. He had to be at the Commons before the diversion started. It was the best way to direct suspicion away from himself. If he were home alone, or even with his friends, there would be more assumptions. Of course, all that only mattered if things went well. If something went wrong, all the planning would be for nothing.

  Slowing to a walk, he dismissed that possibility. It would go well, and he would look properly surprised when told of Rose’s escape. Should things go poorly, well, then he would do his best to shield Alda and Everblue from the consequences.

  After looking around to ensure he was alone, Silverlight stepped out onto the path near his home—he had circled back so that if he encountered anyone, they wouldn’t question why he was on that particular path—and headed toward the Commons. Alda would already be there, having made the arrangements. All in all, there wasn’t much for him to do other than show up, make sure he was seen, and be as startled as everyone else. Since he wasn’t exactly sure what the distraction would end up being, that didn’t sound like an overly difficult task.