by L. K. Rigel
Merlyn’s cave. Great gods. As young as they appeared—well, except for Max—these fae folk really were old. Cade caught Beverly looking at him, and he gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. He hadn’t particularly embraced his faeling nature—he wanted to live in the human realm—but he did appreciate one thing about the gift of time: the chance to know his mother.
“Cade’s right,” Max said to Dandelion. “He should be worried. The Sarumen are dangerous. I have no proof, but I’ve always suspected it was the Sarumen who enchanted the quarrels which killed your parents.”
“Sun and moon,” Dandelion said.
With a nod to Beverly, Max said, “Meaning no disrespect, but no wyrd alone is enough to bring death to an immortal fae. I speak from experience. The two magicks are needed together to call up such power.”
“I wish you’d share this theory with Cissa.” Tenderly, and proprietarily, Dandelion put his arm around Beverly’s shoulder. Cade had to admit the guy did love her. “Proved or not, it might soften her attitude toward the wyrd.”
“Hello, hello!” The familiar cheery voice broke into the discussion, and Cade’s mother-in-law popped in. “I’m here!”
“Hello, Morning Glory.”
“Oh, Cade. Good. I was hoping to find you. I have a message for you and Lily from Cissa.”
« Chapter 3 »
Lilith
Tintagos Village
In Tintagos Village Lilith left the Tragic Fall Inn with little Lady Lexi asleep in her stroller—or push chair as everyone here called it. Across the street and just a few doors down, an oversized truck and crane took up both lanes of traffic.
“What’s all this, Moo?” Lilith asked Cade’s aunt.
“Ah, the new owners arrived yesterday. Apparently they’re changing the name.”
“No more Tea & Tins? Cade will be brokenhearted.”
The cherry picker unfolded but a fraction of its length. It lifted two men in the basket at the end of its boom the twelve feet necessary to reach the tea shop’s wooden sign.
“Cade didn’t mention any changes happening in the village.”
“He was always good about attending council meetings,” Marion said, “but of late he’s been a bit distracted.”
“Vain to deny it,” Lilith said. There certainly was a lot on her husband’s plate these days. Both their plates.
Two years ago, she’d come to Dumnos, a land of mist and rain, from Indio, California on the other side of the world, a land of sun, sun and more sun. She’d been an emotional wreck, running from the disaster of being dumped by her fiancé, Greg Decker. From the moment she’d stepped off the train into the mist at Tintagos Halt and accepted Cade Bausiney’s outstretched hand, she knew she’d come home.
From that day to this, both their lives had been turned over, what with one discovery after another about their pasts. Nothing about the world was as she’d believed.
Lilith’s supposedly dead mother was actually a fairy. A very silly one.
Cade’s father was not James Bausiney, Lord Dumnos, as he’d believed all his life, but a fairy prince named Dandelion. He’d lost his mother when he was a little boy, but not to a tragic death as everyone believed. Beverly had been abducted by Elyse, a half fae, half human wyrding woman who’d also cast the spell which had brought Lilith to Dumnos.
Lilith and Cade had freed Beverly from captivity, and the three of them had joined forces to release Dandelion from the cold iron cage where he’d been imprisoned by the dark fae regent Idris.
But all that was nothing compared to the latest revelation. There was a reason Lilith felt so at home in Tintagos, as if she’d lived here forever. She was the reincarnation of a wyrding woman of Tintagos who’d lived in the twelfth century, and Cade was the reincarnation of her lover, Ross Bausiney, the first earl of Dumnos.
Lilith had good awareness of her former life as Igraine of Kaelyn’s cave, of people, places, and events as if they were on a continuum with her life as Lilith Evergreen Bausiney.
Cade was not so fortunate—or unfortunate, depending on how you looked at it. He didn’t disbelieve, but he had no actual memory of his former life. At the moment he was worried about more immediate things. The Sarumens were taking over the Dumnos Clad, the company that had belonged to the Bausiney family and given employment to the people of Dumnos since forever.
And there was the small matter of his Lilith’s wings. Visiting Mudcastle had done something to boost her fae nature. She couldn’t control it, and every once in a while her wings would extend without warning, even in the human realm.
“He does have a lot to think about these days.”
“It isn’t just your… fairy troubles.” Moo helped lift the push chair onto the sidewalk. “It’s a whole new world for Cade since the baby came. He adores Lexi. And her mother, naturally.”
She patted Lilith’s arm with real affection. She’d been against the relationship in the beginning, but all changed when Lilith helped to save her sister.
“Thanks, Moo.” Lilith had known she’d arrived when she’d been allowed to use Cade’s nickname for his aunt without causing a sniff. “So why new owners? Is Sheila unwell?”
“She sold up. She’s moving to Cardiff to live with her new husband.”
“Fancy that.” They rolled the push chair past a new sign, unloaded and propped against the shop wall. Into the Mystic.
“Intriguing.” Lilith waggled her eyebrows. “I hope the new owner will still carry Hobnobs, for Cade’s sake.”
“And my special tea.” Moo frowned. She never did like change.
“Your special tea is nothing if not mystical. Shall we have a look in?”
“I’ll get it, dear.” Marion held the door open, and as Lilith pushed Lexi over the threshold a hand-held brass bell rang out enthusiastically.
“Lilith. How lovely to see you!”
Lilith didn’t have to follow Moo’s disapproving squint. She knew the voice instantly.
“I mean Lady Dumnos.” Cammy French, at the register inside the shop, set a bell down on the counter with an apologetic face. “We’ve yet to hang our chimes.”
“That’s quite all—”
“Bella! Come see who’s here!” Cammy hurried around the counter, her arms outstretched and a big grin on her face. “Oh, I’d heard there was a little one now. I didn’t think it would happen so soon.” She headed for the push chair, but Auntie Moo headed her off.
“The little one is sleeping at present.”
“Lady Dumnos.” Bella French must have been in the stockroom. Her arms were laden with tea towels and fragrant soaps. “It’s a pleasure.”
“I asked you both at the wedding to call me Lilith, and I hope you still will.” It wasn’t proper, but Lilith didn’t care. She still wasn’t used to being Lady anything. Fortunately, Cade wasn’t at all old school about these things. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re at last free of our awful father and can do what we like,” Cammy said. “We like Dumnos, Tintagos in particular.”
“Cammy,” Bella said sharply.
“Don’t mind Bella,” Cammy said. “She suffers from eldest child syndrome. She can’t bring herself to say or think anything bad about the beastly man.”
“I prefer not to speak unkindly of the dead, that’s all,” Bella said.
“About a month after we returned home from the Handover festivities, Father graciously suffered a brain embolism,” Cammy said. “We invested our inheritance in shares of Dumnos Clad, but when the shares soared so quickly last autumn it scared us. We sold out and looked around for a more tangible place to park our loot. Tea & Tins is just the thing.”
“Cammy.”
“Bella.” Cammy winked at Lilith. “In my soul, I know this is where we belong. You know what I mean. Don’t you… Lilith?”
“I do, Cammy,” Lilith said. “Vain to deny it.”
“My lady—Lilith,” Bella said. “Sheila gave us a list of her best customers’ favorites. We’ll still
be carrying Hobnobs for Lord—for Cade. And of course our favorite innkeeper’s special tea.” The older sister smiled at Moo with shyness Lilith hadn’t noticed before.
“Why the name change, dear?” Moo said kindly, and by her tone Lilith knew that all was settled. Into the Mystic had met with her approval. She’d chat up the new shop all over the village and ensure it was a success.
“Because we want our shop to celebrate the mystical side of Tintagos all the year long,” Bella said. She was quiet, and perhaps disapproving of her sister’s flamboyance, but she was happy to be there too.
They would make a nice addition to the town.
“Hello! Hello! I’m here!”
Oh, no…
At least Morning Glory had the sense to come into the shop through the front door instead of popping in under a shower of sparkles.
“Cade said you might be here. Mwah! Mwah!” Lilith’s mom gave her an air kiss, then one to Moo. “Ooh, look at all the pretties.” She draped a shimmering scarf over her head and preened in front of a mirror, then dropped it and moved on to a display labeled Fairy Toys & Tools.
Lilith was able to grab the scarf before it hit the ground, but she had to move unnaturally fast to do it.
Cammy and Bella both had their mouths clamped shut, but their eyes were wide with astonishment. Admittedly, Glory’s bare feet and glittering toenail polish were unconventional, even on a warm day in April.
“Um… my mother. From California,” Lilith said by way of explanation.
“Uh-huh,” Cammy said dubiously, and with a grin.
“You look young enough to be her ladyship’s sister,” Bella said, though Glory was distracted by the shop’s things.
“Her younger sister,” Cammy said with a sideways look at Lilith.
“What’s all this?” Glory ran her fingers over a display and picked up a green satin bag embroidered with silver dandelions, then dropped it immediately. “Ugh.”
“That contains crumbled holy cake,” Cammy said. “We’ve done a lot of research for the store. Fairies don’t like holy cake.”
“Ya think?” Morning Glory said.
“It will keep them away if you toss the crumbs in their general direction.”
“Why would you want to do that?” Lilith's mother frowned.
“Well…” Cammy stumbled, as if the question hadn’t occurred to her before. “It’s only for bad fairies.”
“Ah,” Morning Glory nodded. “That makes sense. Bad fairies are scary.”
She picked up a hand-held mirror and smiled at her reflection.
“Those are magic mirrors,” Bella said drily. She seemed less enthusiastic than her sister about it all.
“Eat an apple and light a candle at midnight, then look into the mirror,” Cammy said, “you will see your true love.”
Morning Glory examined the mirror, frowning. “Your supplier cheated you. I don’t think these work.” She put the mirror back with the others and snapped her fingers, and then she moved on to another scarf, a gauzy pink material covered with blue sequins. “Oh!”
“What did you do to the mirrors?” Lilith grabbed her mother’s elbow. “I felt something change—and you look much too satisfied.”
“Nothing,” Glory said. “I fixed them. The ones in the back room too.”
“Why are you here, mother?” And how to get her out of the shop?
“There’s to be a gifting after all,” Morning Glory said. “Cissa commands it, and Cade agrees.” She covered her nose and mouth with the scarf and batted her eyelashes. “Can I have this?”
“Put the scarf on my bill,” Lilith said to Bella. “I’ll take two boxes of Hobnobs now too, and could you order two cases of the chocolate ones and have them sent directly to Faeview, please? The maids like them too.” Now that was a sentence Lilith never in a million years thought she’d say.
“Of course, my lady,” Bella said.
Morning Glory dangled the scarf over Lexi, still sleeping. The fairy teased the skin on the toddler’s cheeks until she woke up with a darling, chortling baby laugh. Lilith’s heart softened a little. Only her mom could do that.
“What’s a gifting?” Cammy said.
“For the baby, of course,” Glory said. “Yes, for Lexi!” She picked her granddaughter up out of the push chair and set her on her hip. She very nearly lifted off, but Lilith’s cautioning glare seemed to stop her at the last minute.
Don’t fly, don’t fly! At the thought of flying, Lilith felt the urgency of her own wings, undulating beneath her shoulder blades, wanting… wanting.
“Oh, a baby shower,” Cammy said. “Wonderful.”
“And it should be a picnic, don’t you think?” Glory said. “At the Temple of Joy and Wonder. On May Day.”
“Fine,” Lilith said.
“Hurray!” Glory kissed Lexi’s nose, and the child laughed again.
“What lovely blue eyes she has,” Bella said. “She must get them from her moth—”
Lilith turned away, but it was too late. Bella had noticed. Lilith’s eyes had gone green—and greener the more she expressed her fae nature.
“Good.” Lilith took Lexi from Glory, who spun in a quick circle but at least kept her feet on the ground. Almost. “So you can go now and let Cissa know.”
“Who is Cissa?” Cammy said.
Glory stopped spinning and gave Bella an incredulous look. “Why, our queen, silly. Queen Narcissus of the Dumnos fae.”
“Of course she is.” Cammy had a big grin on her face.
“Mother, please.” Lilith could see a new round of village gossip brewing in Cammy’s expression. The new countess is fae, and she’s pixilated our darling boy.
Her wings screamed to come out, a sign that at the moment her eyes were indeed sparkling fae green. If she didn’t get Glory out of the shop, the French girls were going to witness a full-fae pop-out—and she wasn’t sure from which fairy.
“Ta-ta, then—and thanks for the present!” Morning Glory stuffed the scarf into her hidey pouch—where had that come from? She pressed her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss to Lexi along with a faint shower of sparkles and shimmering dandelion flowerets.
“Oooh!” Cammy looked delighted.
“What was…” Bella tilted her head, stunned.
“Mother, no!”
“Good-bye, good-bye!” Morning Glory sprouted her wings, flew up to the ceiling, spun twice, tossed exploding fairy dust and popped out.
A pregnant silence hung in the air until one of the signage men came through the door. “All finished out here,” he said cheerfully, as if he lived in a normal world. “Could you kindly tell us where to find a nice cuppa nearby?”
Everyone inside was still staring spellbound at the spot near the ceiling where Morning Glory had just disappeared.
“Forget,” Lilith said under her breath and in desperation wiggled her fingers in the direction of the French girls. A look of puzzled ignorance filled Bella’s eyes, but only Bella’s.
As if the news had broken that Christmas had come and Santa was real, Cammy grinned from ear to ear, looked to her sister, to Lilith, and back to the spot where Morning Glory had popped out.
“I knew it,” she said. “I knew.”
« Chapter 4 »
Cissa
Cissa’s bower
Sun and moon, Cissa almost couldn’t breathe! It was so good to get out of the throne room, away from the courtiers, the singing, dancing, the raucous jokes, and exploding fairy dust. She used to love all that stuff, but it was no fun when she could only watch.
She was queen now. She had to be wise and serene and… and queenly.
She never could make it to her private bower in one transportation. She stopped for breath at a fork in the corridors well beyond the throne room. One way led to her rooms, and the other to the tunnel down to the Bower of Elyse—Idris’s prison.
She thought of him, caged and alone down there. Horrible, horrible. With no defense against the cold iron, by now the headaches alone m
ust have driven him mad. None of her minions ever volunteered to check on him, so she didn’t know. She didn’t want to know.
It was the blackguard’s own fault. Whenever she felt a twinge of pity, she reminded herself that Idris had built the cage for her brother. With a shudder, she extended her wings and flew on. As soon as she reached her oasis of tranquility at the edge of the court, she closed her eyes, inhaled the fresh woodsy air, and blew out the tension that had no business taking up space in her body.
The wind whooshed through the trees overhead, and not for the first time, Cissa wished Idris hadn’t turned evil. The regent was better suited to the trappings of power—though he’d blown it with the actual wielding power part. If only he’d been good.
If Idris had been good, he wouldn’t have stolen and hidden the fairy cup in order to prevent the rightful king’s accession to the Moonstick Throne. He wouldn’t have helped that wyrder Merlyn forge the oracle ring. Or trapped Boadicea in the abomination or led the Dumnos fae toward the dark.
Dandelion would have had the crown safely on his head before he ever met Beverly and ran away to Mudcastle like a solitary.
Cissa would still be a fairy princess, free to play, free from all this worry.
She was never meant to be queen. Deep down, she knew she wasn’t very good at it. Every day all day it was the same thing: mitigate disputes. Keep the different fae folk from driving each other crazy. Leprechauns and pixies bickering. Brownies uninterested in tidying up messes or scribbling with scrolls. Goblins keeping more to their own kind than ever. Joyless sprites. Fairies driven more by desire than delight.
Despite Cissa’s penchant for giving orders and issuing edicts, the faewood was falling apart. She wanted desperately to drive the dark influence from the Dumnos court. Though there were small successes—today’s resolution with Horace and the pixies was one—she couldn’t deny the faewood was in a state of low-grade chaos.
