“Yes, lucky,” Hallie said, blinking back tears.
“That’s definitely going to need stitches,” Kat responded.
She stood and walked toward the door where her purse and car keys sat on a small table. She grabbed them and beckoned for Hallie, and, after a moment, Hallie forced herself to her feet, keeping her eyes away from the bright red blossoming across the paper towel.
Kat locked the door behind them while Hallie stood uncertainly in the hall. She assumed they were on their way to the hospital, but Kat still hadn’t said another word, just guiding Hallie gently.
Door locked, Kat turned and gave Hallie a gentle push down the hall. Usually they would take the stairs, but Kat pulled her away from the heavy metal door. Instead, taking her elbow, Kat led her to the elevators and stabbed at the button a few times.
By the time they made it to Kat’s car, Hallie’s hand was throbbing and felt as hot as if she’d held it in a fire. She rested her head against the seat, letting her eyes drift closed.
“Hallie!” Kat snapped her fingers, and Hallie’s eyes snapped open.
“What?” Hallie said.
Kat gently took the blood-covered hand, picking it up from where Hallie had let it rest against her leggings, hoping the blood would blend in with the black fabric enough that they wouldn’t be ruined. Hallie let her move the hand above the level of her heart, resting it across her chest like a sash. Blood smeared across the seat belt.
“Kat, your car!” Hallie said, trying to pull her hand away from her body.
“Does it really matter?” Kat turned the key in the ignition. “You need to stop the bleeding. My car is junk anyway. I’ll clean it up later. Now, let’s get you to a doctor.”
Hallie nodded tiredly, letting her hand rest against her chest again. Kat would take care of her, just like she always had. Like she always would.
***
Present
“Hallie!”
Wyn snapped her fingers in front of Hallie’s nose, and Hallie blinked back to the present. She glanced at the white crescent marring her left hand, the same hand holding her half empty glass, and downed the rest of the drink in one gulp, wishing for the buzz of a real mimosa.
No such luck. Whatever that green ball had done to protect her from the magic must keep her from feeling the alcohol, too.
“Easy,” Wyn said, pulling the glass away from Hallie’s mouth and dropping it on a passing server’s tray. Her brow wrinkled, and she tilted her head to look at Hallie more closely. “Are you okay?”
Hallie let her gaze rove the crowd around them. “Fine,” she mumbled.
She couldn’t let herself get distracted. She wouldn’t let Kat down.
She vaguely saw Wyn nod to one of the servers, who returned a moment later with another glass of Fae mimosa. She handed it to Hallie, and Hallie took it absently, not drinking. Instead, she nodded at the woman and walked in Vesque’s direction.
It was time to shake down the Fae.
Chapter Eight
Hallie kicked a stone down the wooded path. Arrogant jerks.
“Hey, calm down,” Wyn said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal. We’ll figure it out.”
Hallie shook off her hand. “It is a big deal. Everything depends on this, Wyn. Everything!”
“Whoa, hold on there.” Wyn took her arm and pulled her to a stop. “What do you mean? I said I’d help you, but you know I think this is a bad idea. And just knowing about resurrection doesn’t mean you’ll convince one of the Spring Court to actually do it for you.”
Hallie could feel the rage bubbling under her skin. Aside from Vesque, most of the Fae at breakfast had done nothing but offer her polite smiles and decline to answer any questions, including their names.
Well, that at least made sense. Names were power. But they couldn’t even give her a nickname to call them? Obviously they didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to risk the Fae boy’s wrath.
Hallie closed her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths before she turned back to Wyn.
“So he’s a ‘sir.’ And he’s powerful enough to make the subjects of the Court fear him,” she said.
“True,” Wyn answered, watching her carefully.
“He’s probably part of the royal family.”
“Also true.”
“But how do we prove that?” Hallie hesitated, knowing what she wanted to say, but almost afraid to say it. “I know it’s a long shot,” she said through tight teeth. “But I have to try. Kat...” She blinked back tears. “Kat is what kept us together.”
Wyn’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
Hallie just watched her for a moment, then Wyn drew her aside, out of the path of nobles streaming back to whatever rooms they occupied during the days.
Wyn lowered her voice. “What do you mean, Kat kept us together?”
Hallie swiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “Haven’t you felt it? The distance growing between us? We hardly ever talk anymore. If you hadn’t planned this trip, I probably wouldn’t have seen you until the next holiday.”
Anger crept into Wyn’s face now. “You think that makes her the glue that held us together? Let me clue you in on something, Hal. I’ve been calling and texting you at least once a week since we graduated two years ago. If we’re drifting apart, it’s because you have been isolating yourself, building walls so that no one can see your pain. Well, guess what? You’re not the only one who was hurt in that accident, and you’re not the only one who lost someone special!”
Hallie glanced at Wyn’s broken antler, and her friend’s face grew darker.
“But don’t you see?” Hallie said, ignoring the pointed glare from her friend. “If I can bring her back, then everything goes back to normal. We have her. We spend more time together. It would be like none of it ever happened.”
Wyn rolled her eyes. “Not everything is so easy. Humans! You always think magic will solve every problem. Hallie, magic will bring its own problems. Haven’t you learned anything from these stupid bargains?”
Hallie’s nose flared at the human comment, but she forged ahead anyway. “You said it yourself. You miss her.”
“Loss is part of life, Hallie. Kat’s moved on. We should, too.”
Hallie caught her breath. How could Wyn say that?
She spun on her heel and stalked off, leaving Wyn blinking at her in surprise.
***
After Wyn was out of sight, Hallie hurried to a small clearing in the trees, huddling there for at least ten minutes. Tears blurred her vision. Anxiety chewed at her like a disobedient puppy, telling her that she’d just ruined her last friendship, that Wyn would likely never talk to her again. And without Wyn’s help, she’d never figure out who the Fae boy was, never get to keep the knowledge of resurrection, never bring Kat back.
For the millionth time in the last two years, Hallie felt totally alone, and it sank into her bones with the chill of the mist swirling about her. She squeezed her eyes closed.
“Are you quite all right?” came a familiar voice next to her.
She jumped, eyes snapping open, and turned to face the Fae boy. “You really know how to scare a girl, you know that?”
He half smiled. “Apologies.” He gestured behind her at a misty corridor. Must be another demesne. “Can I offer you a cup of tea? Don’t worry, it will form no addiction. It is my fault you’re here, after all. This is the least I can do.”
She nodded mutely, taking the arm he offered her.
Then they were stepping through the mist and...back into the library. She smiled. At least something good was happening this morning.
The table in the center was already set with tea, and the boy led her to one of the comfortable chairs.
Hadn’t she already checked this area for the library? She looked around at the shelves, and the confusion must have been evident on her face judging from the look the boy gave her.
She returned her gaze to him. “How...I searched for this room y
esterday for so long. How did I miss it?”
He smiled and picked up the tea pot, nodding as he poured. “Yes, that’s because I’ve made it impossible to find without me.”
“You can do that?”
The fragrant, sweet smell of herbs and flowers drifted toward Hallie’s nose, carrying lavender, rose, chamomile.
He replaced the pot and took a seat, adding a generous spoonful of honey and cream before offering both to Hallie. “I can. This is my own special haven. Those who wish to enter must do so while I am here and be granted entrance or be accompanied by me.”
“But I found it last time.” Hallie added her own heaps of honey and cream to her cup and stirred with a silver spoon topped with a sparkling crystal.
“Yes, because I was here. You would never have made it through the door had I not allowed it. Didn’t you feel the pull of the mist?”
She nodded, and for a few moments, they sat in silence. Hallie’s thoughts drifted between Wyn and Kat and the bargains. The boy simply watched her.
Hallie set her teacup back on the saucer. “What is your name?”
He smiled and almost laughed, replacing his own cup. “You know I can’t tell you that, Hallie.”
“But I need something to call you. I’ve never known your name. But you know mine.”
This time he did laugh. “You have a point. How about a nickname? You can call me Nathan.”
Nathan?
She blinked at him. “A human name?”
“Yes.” He picked his cup back up and continued drinking.
“Why Nathan?”
He waved one hand in the air, and a familiar looking science fiction spaceship appeared to hover over the table, its stern aglow with yellow light. “Are you a science fiction fan? I’m a huge fan of one particular actor.”
Despite her anxiety, despite her nerves and anger and sadness over her argument with Wyn, Hallie found herself laughing. So he was a fan of human science fiction. And a cult classic at that.
“I love that show,” she responded.
“It died too soon,” he said solemnly.
Her breath hitched, and she looked away, cradling her teacup between cold hands. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, simply sipping at the floral tea. Even without magic, it soothed Hallie’s soul. If she did fail and have to stay here, at least the tea would be good.
“So. Nathan,” she finally said, looking back up at him. “Just how am I supposed to figure out who you are?”
He shrugged. “That’s not really my problem, now is it?”
She sighed. “I suppose not.”
Hallie looked around the library again, and Nathan seemed content to just let her sit and look around. He almost looked...proud.
If she had a library like this, she’d be proud too.
As she’d noticed last time she was here, the bookshelves lined the spaces between trees, the wood dark and gleaming, ivy dotted with white flowers climbing over the tops and edges of the shelves. The books gleamed in aesthetic arrangements complemented by sculptures, crystals, and antique human artifacts.
“You really like human things, don’t you?” she said, eyes on an old baseball, yellowed with age and possibly the dust of a baseball diamond.
The mischief faded from his eyes. “I do. But not all Fae are like me.”
“What do you mean?”
He snorted. “If you ever meet my father, just pretend you’re not human. Let me put it that way.”
Hallie remembered Wyn talking about such Fae, the oldest souls who refused to join the rest of their people in relationships with the humans. Those Fae honestly scared her; they were the ones who would kidnap a girl or steal a child to leave a changeling.
“I’ll pass, thanks.” She took a sip from her cup, letting the lavender comfort her.
They sat in silence for a few moments again, this time a strained silence heavy with the weight of reality. The Fae weren’t all as wonderful as the ones public in her world, and she was in their domain.
Wyn had been right to keep her from this. For the first time, she felt the danger prickling the back of her neck.
Then another thought occurred to her, drowning out everything else as her eyes landed on a book bearing the words Genealogy of Urthar. She had no idea who Urthar was.
But perhaps Urthar’s genealogy had an idea who Nathan really was.
“Nathan,” she began tentatively.
“Yes?”
“Can I use this library for research?”
He set his teacup, now empty, on the tray sitting in the middle of the table. She could see the caution in his eyes, the indecision.
“You mean for your end of the bargain, don’t you?” he finally said.
Hallie nodded, holding her breath, afraid to hope.
He rose to his feet. “I suppose I should offer you somewhere to look. Or at least a quiet place to gather your thoughts. Heavens know you won’t find what you’re looking for in here anyway. And whatever you do find...perhaps you will understand why I can’t let you win.”
Her heart sank at that, but she couldn’t quite believe it. After all, he wouldn’t tell her directly if she was on the right track, would he?
“Thank you,” she said. “So how do I find you when I want to be here?”
He reached under his sweater, pulling a chain from where it had been hidden draped around his neck. Two rings hung from the silver. He removed the necklace and the smaller of the two rings, handing it to her. She studied it, admiring the rose gold entwined with silver, the small shining opal, emerald, and some kind of pink stones that all sparkled in the morning sun.
“Wear that ring. When you require admission to the library, simply rub the opal, and this ring”—he held up the ring on the chain—“will alert me.”
She nodded and slipped the ring on her finger, smiling with more joy than she’d felt all day. She finally had a place to start.
Chapter Nine
Hallie slammed the genealogy book closed. Urthar was apparently only a fictional figure, his genealogy also fictional. At least it was judging from the author’s notes at the end of the book.
She sighed and stood to replace the book on the shelf.
“Not what you were looking for?” Nathan smirked from his leather armchair. He pulled the bow across the strings of his shining violin, letting out a long, wavering note.
She returned a tight smile in his direction. While she’d been studiously going through what she thought would be her first lead, he’d been sitting in the room, watching her, plucking and bowing on his violin, occasionally laughing at something she picked up.
Though she had to admit it was gorgeous music. Was it Fae? Or was he simply making it up as he went?
Hallie faced the shelves as he continued to weave a spell with the music. His presence was distracting. Was that his plan? Distract her too much to focus? Or just keep her from seeing whatever she wasn’t meant to see?
And she couldn’t figure him out. One minute, he seemed determined to see her fail, to find out nothing more about him. And in the next minute, he was telling her things one might tell a friend, as if trying to forge a connection to her. It was like he couldn’t decide if he wanted her to win or lose.
And he had made many of the same insinuations as Wyn had: magic wouldn’t fix everything.
She blinked back the thought and stared at the bookshelf before her. She needed to come at this more strategically. Perhaps if she started at shelf one and worked her way around the room? She could examine each of the artifacts and the titles of the books, then select the ones that seemed most illuminating to examine further.
Decision made, she grabbed the notepad from its place on the table and strode to the first shelf, letting her gaze move from top to bottom without missing a single item. It appeared to hold a number of informational texts, mostly on the human world. An entire set of encyclopedias. Ancient maritime navigational instruments that gleamed brassy in the light.
Not a single Fae item, unles
s she counted the winding ivy. Those white flowers seemed to follow her every move.
She returned her attention to the shelf, hoping she’d missed something small, any clue. But there was nothing her eye could spot out of place in this tribute to humanity’s knowledge.
“Finding anything interesting?” Nathan said. She could still hear that smirk in his voice, even though she didn’t turn to look at him.
Instead, she ran a finger over the spine of one of the encyclopedias. “So you really do like humans, don’t you? Why?”
The music stopped, and she heard the soft thud of him resting the bottom of the instrument on the ground. He didn’t answer for so long, she thought he didn’t intend to.
Finally, he spoke, his words thoughtful, filled with respect, almost awe. “Do you know much human history, Hallie?”
Now she did turn from the shelf, interested. Her history schooling had stopped after World War II, her school’s curriculum deciding that any more modern history would be taught in more advanced history classes. The ones only the history geeks took.
She hadn’t been a history geek.
“Some. Not as much as I should,” she admitted.
“What about the Fae?”
That one she knew. After all, she’d been studying it for the past two years, intensively, from myth to folk tale to the few texts the Fae had provided about themselves.
“As much as a human learning about the Fae could know.” There was far too much the Fae didn’t share with humans.
He nodded, his eyes distant. “Then you should know enough to understand that the Fae are...harsh. For centuries we squabbled among ourselves, much like you humans. But we have always been sensitive to things humans can tolerate, like iron, certain varieties of wood. Where we had magic to make our lives easier, better, humans did not.”
Hallie nodded. “Where are you going with this?”
Nathan looked at her, his eyes shining. “Humans are some of the most fascinating species. Without magic, look at all you have created!” He stood and began gesturing to bits of his collection. “You used the stars just like us, but instead of speaking to them, you observed them. Charted them. You developed technology after technology to pull yourselves out of the dirt. All while the Fae continued to fight among themselves and hate anything that wasn’t magical.”
Seasons of Magic Volume 1 Page 19
