by L. K. Rigel
Silence fell as the significance of the truly abominable gift sank in. The Sarumen smiled, a mix of sneer and satisfaction on her lips… and she looked sideways at Lily with something else. Triumph.
To rob someone of her childhood was horrid for the child; for the parents, it was pure evil.
“Mama!” Lexi stood, this time with no support, her arms stretched toward Lily. The little girl had already aged ten months. Her cheeks were full of roses, her hair a mass of strawberry-blond curls, her eyes like sparkling violet jewels.
“You… bitch!” A man’s voice, unfamiliar in its fury, but otherwise well known to Cissa. Her faeling nephew, Dandelion’s son. Lexi’s father. Of all people, human, fae, or in between, someone she never thought she’d see angry.
With his bare, mostly human fist, Cade Bausiney, Lord Dumnos, punched the Sarumen in her beautiful face.
VII. Cade
It was a mistake. He knew it the instant his knuckles crashed into her jaw. And he was appalled at himself for hitting someone. Violence wasn’t his way.
“You fucking fairy bitch!” Cursing also wasn’t his way.
What a shock to discover that—aside from the pain and the embarrassment—cursing and hitting felt so good.
All Cade’s frustration and loathing for the Sarumens now concentrated itself in this moment in this one being, Jenna Sarumen. As far as he was concerned, the Sarumens had stolen the Dumnos Clad, a large symbol of his family’s heritage and a major employer of his people. They’d perverted the company into a supplier for military weaponry. Her family had stolen that, and now she had stolen his daughter’s childhood.
He readied to strike another blow.
“Aaahhh!” Jenna howled, not in pain—which damaged his pride in a not-to-be-admitted way—but with rage. “Daaaaddy!” She lifted off the ground and unfurled her wings, furious, as her father flew to her side.
Yeah. Right the first time. Big mistake.
Time slowed. Cade felt the spaces between his heartbeats. Lord Sarumen, the grandfather, hovered nearby, quietly ominous—and oddly familiar. Dread flooded Cade to his soul. Somehow he knew this fairy, and that the man was incredibly dangerous.
The three raised their hands as one to fling a group spell at him. Something nasty; he could feel it coming.
“Cade, no!” Lilith cried out, standing near the cot, their daughter in her arms. She threw her own spell.
He flinched as Lilith’s spell deflected whatever the Sarumens had thrown.
Jenna screamed again and flew at him, and then her powerful hands were at his throat. She was so strong. He felt like a kitten trying to get away from a pit bull. What had he been thinking? A weird gurgling sound came out of his throat. Was she strangling him?
“Let. Him. Go,” Lilith said darkly.
Jenna did not let him go, but every crystal flute within spell-shot shattered to bits. Were it physically possible, he’d laugh. His wife seemed to have developed a thing for breaking glass when she was fired up.
“Unhand my son!” A woman’s voice rumbled overhead, indistinguishable from thunder, and clouds suddenly obscured the sun. As if for effect, lightning flashed and crackled. A whirlwind descended from the clouds and dissipated, leaving in its place Cade’s mother Beverly, dressed in a shimmering bodysuit covered by a flowing, dark green robe.
She pointed at Jenna. “I said stop!”
Startled, Jenna somewhat loosened her grip. It was all Cade needed to wrench free.
“Mother, be careful!” He knew Beverly had been developing her wyrding powers all this time, but she was likely no match for a Sarumen—and certainly no match for the three most powerful.
“She’s all right.” Max was at his elbow. “Don’t worry; they can’t hurt her.” The goblin stood at Cade’s side, and Dandelion joined them. Both had amused looks on their faces, like they were ready to break out the popcorn.
“What’s going on?” Cade said.
“She’s wearing glimmermist,” Dandelion said. “It’s to protect her from the human realm, but fae magic can’t get through it either.”
“Go now,” Beverly said to Jenna. “And take your minions with you.”
“Why should I?” The fairy’s wings flicked like the tail of an angry cat.
“Because I’ll make you sorry if you don’t,” Beverly said. She narrowed her eyes at Lord Sarumen. “And you know I can do it.”
Lord Sarumen gave an almost imperceptible nod of acquiescence to his son. “Daddy” touched Jenna’s elbow. It was as if all the wind fell out of her sails.
Cade’s heart swelled. He was so impressed by his mom.
“Greg, let’s go.” Jenna Sarumen called over to a poor sot at the humans’ refreshment table. Must be the stupid bloke who let Lilith get away. The London contingent popped out. With a look of embarrassed regret, Greg put down his glass and slogged across the lawn and up the hill toward the car park.
Dandelion flew to Beverly and enfolded her in his wings. “Darling, you were wonderful!” Only a tiny bit begrudgingly, Cade admired their love for each other.
All around, the guests erupted in chatter. “Wyrding woman, you did it again!” This from Violet, a fairy Beverly had saved from one of Idris’s perverted glimmer glasses. Since then, Violet had had nothing bad to say about the wyrd. She’d told Cade the story of her rescue every time he saw her.
“That’s it.” Cissa—more formally, Queen Narcissus—took off her sparkly crown and tucked it into her bent elbow. “The gifting is over. Everyone go home.”
Violet pouted, but she gave Beverly a little curtsy—which earned a frown from Cissa—then touched her tether jewel and popped out. All but their closest friends of the Dumnos fae followed her.
“Beverly, thank Sun and Moon you came.” Lilith held Lexi tightly in her arms. “Can you… is it possible to reverse a fairy’s gift?”
“Can we discuss this at Mudcastle?” Cade said. “Mom shouldn’t stay in the human realm any longer than necessary.”
“Good call.” Lilith nodded agreement. “I’ll ask Moo and Ian to deal with our human guests.”
But he only vaguely heard snippets and bits of the conversation that followed. His attention was distracted diverted by a man coming through the hazel trees on the far side of the lake, a man more mystical than magical.
He was dressed in modern clothing but gave the impression of a grail knight from an old legend, a traveler a long time in returning to his home.
He rode a coal-black horse, and his person was the opposite in color. His silver-white hair fell loose over his shoulders down to his elbows. He had black eyebrows and brilliant blue eyes. His skin was pale and perfect. He wore silver pants embroidered with leaves of gold, pink, green, and powder-blue, and his silver vest was embroidered with gold and green apple blossoms. He wore no shirt. His build was lean and muscular, and he was mesmerizing.
Cade had never seen him before… in this life. But over nine hundred years ago, the man had been a guest at Tintagos Castle and had eaten at the baron’s table. The silver knight.
The sight of him triggered an entire life’s memories.
Cade remembered helping a naked Lord Sarumen into his rowboat from the freezing ocean waters off the Normandum coast.
He remembered his love, Igraine, falling to her death in Tintagos Bay.
He remembered running the sword Excalibur through Quinn, the medieval priest who was still alive—Cade recognized him as a fae toady in the Sarumen party today.
He remembered refusing the decoction of Lethe from the wyrding woman Elyse, then watching Elyse drink both doses to blot out her own pain over the death of Igraine, who was her daughter.
Cade remembered it all. He no longer believed he was once Ross Bausiney.
He knew.
“Lilith!” he called out, eager for his love, flooded with relief and gratitude that she lived, and certain this mystical, apparently immortal, being could save Lexi from the Sarumen gift. “Lily!”
But Lilith wasn’t there. Th
e grounds were empty save for a few brownies who’d come back to clean up. Even Moo and the other humans had left. Cade took off running toward the hazel trees.
“Sir Knight!” The title didn’t even feel ridiculous. “Sir Knight, please, can you help me?”
« Chapter 9 »
Cissa
Mudcastle
Cissa couldn’t take her eyes off the man who came into the cottage behind Cade. She knew instantly he wasn’t human, and he wasn’t fae either. She’d met another of his kind quite recently, about a hundred and forty years ago, when she found the long lost fairy cup, and adventure that had led to her, instead of her brother Dandelion, becoming the monarch of the Dumnos fae.
Velyn of Avalos had had dark features, and this man was so fair he was nearly Velyn’s opposite, but they were the same in their natures, both members of the fallen. Both from Avalos, the sacred island of the Dumnos wyrd.
“This is Anzlyn,” Cade said. “I think he can help Lexi.”
“Do you know Velyn? Have you come from Avalos?” Lily blurted out. She was sitting by the fire in one of Max’s rocking chairs with Lexi on her lap. “Can you nullify a fae gift?”
Exactly what Cissa wanted to know—not the part about the gift; fae gifts were forever. Anyway, in the scheme of things, what did the Sarumen gift matter? All childhoods last but a blink of an eye. If Lexi embraced her faeling side, she would be an adult for hundreds, maybe thousands, of years.
The important thing was this: Anzlyn might hold Cissa’s only chance of finding the island again.
“Then I was right,” Cade said. “Mom couldn’t do it.”
“I couldn’t revoke the gift, but I think I was able to modify it,” Beverly said.
“Not likely,” Anzlyn said. “But let me see the child.” He took Lexi from Lily’s arms.
As the child played with his long white hair, Cissa felt a guilty twinge. Of course she didn’t want Lexi to lose her childhood.
“I’m impressed,” Anzlyn said with surprise and some admiration, “You did mitigate the gift somewhat. Anything should have been impossible. She will reach maturity in twice the time the gift called for.”
“Right,” Cade said. “So instead of the last day of August, we have until Mischief Night?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for even that much.”
“Brother Sun and Sister Moon were with you,” Anzlyn said to Beverly.
A strange sensation crept over Cissa. She wasn’t used to feeling positively toward her sister-in-law, and she didn’t like it.
“There was another wyrding woman hereabouts the last time I was in the neighborhood,” Anzlyn said. “She was also faeling. Could someone give me news of Glimmer Cottage, of the wyrding woman Elyse?”
“Elyse died,” Cissa said.
Why did everyone stare at her like that?
“Well, she did. After causing a lot of trouble in Tintagos too. Ask Lily. Ask Cade—ask Beverly.”
“Please, no.” Beverly said. “I…I can’t talk about her.”
“I can tell you what I know,” Cade said. “But it’s old news. Very old, in fact. In my other life, as Ross of Tintagos, I knew Elyse. She advised me… connived me, in her way, to build Faeview’s manor house on top of the Dumnos fae’s most sacred circle. You see, she blamed all fae for her daughter’s death.”
“Her daughter,” Anzlyn said. “Elyse’s daughter.”
“Elyse had a child?” Cissa said. That would be huge news to the faewood.
Cade put his arms around Lily. “When I saw Anzlyn at the sacred lake just now, I recognized him from when I was Ross of Tintagos. All my memories as Ross came back to me. Lily… Igraine, you were Elyse’s daughter.”
The cottage was silent as the information sunk in. Elyse, the recluse, Aubrey’s daughter who had rejected the faewood, had had a daughter of her own, whose father was a true immortal, a fallen angel.
“But she tried to possess me,” Lily said. “She would have ruined my life.”
“She didn’t know,” Cade said. “She drank a potion that made her forget she ever had a child. She was in so much pain over losing you. How could she foresee the high gods would let you live again?”
“I knew I’d given her a child.” Anzlyn shifted Lexi to his hip and clasped Lily’s free hand. “In spirit, you’re my daughter. And this child Lexi is my spiritual granddaughter. She’s a true daughter of the high gods, and she will travel in all the realms.”
“No,” Lily said. “Oh, Cade. No.”
“Sun and moon.” Cade put his arms around Lily and Lexi. It was a darling tableau, but he couldn’t protect them from the truth.
“I can’t take away the gift of the Sarumen,” Anzlyn said. “But I can give one of my own.”
He let go of Lily’s hand and laid his palm over Lexi’s heart. She gasped a little toddler gasp, and her violet eyes flashed.
“It’s done. A time tether,” Anzlyn said. “She now has the power to transcend all the realms without getting lost in time.”
“But that’s good!” Morning Glory said. “So if I take her to the faewood for a visit, she won’t get stuck?”
“She will always return to the human realm seven seconds after having left.”
“I can’t wait!” Goldy said. “She’ll love to see the Moonstick Throne and the queen’s crown… all the sparkly things.”
“That’s… wonderful,” Lily said. “Fantastic. Truly, I mean it. You’ve taken away my greatest fear.”
“I don’t see why you fear the faewood,” Cissa said. “It’s a lovely place to live. And I don’t see Lexi fitting in the human realm after this. Do you? Do you think your people will accept their future countess when she turns up full grown in six months’ time?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Lily said, her eyes still on Anzlyn. “We’ll deal with that when we have to.”
“Let’s hope wisdom was one of the gifts she received today,” Anzlyn said. “For ultimately it will be Lexi’s decision how to live her life.”
You couldn’t argue with that, but Lily looked like she wanted to. That was the trouble with humans, Cissa decided. They were too attached to romantic notions of what other humans should do with themselves. If only Lily could fully embrace her fae nature! She would be so much happier.
But then, what did “fae” nature mean? Fairies were supposed to be lighthearted, unburdened by thoughts of past or future, untethered by loving. But none of that was true, as far as Cissa could see.
Look at Dandelion, madly in love with Beverly. And poor Aubrey, wracked by sorrow since he lost his daughter Elyse. Who knows what woes lay buried in his heart over his love, Frona, Elyse’s mother? At the time of their affair, Cissa hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration.
And Cissa’s own heart was a mess. Why didn’t he come to the gifting? She knew the charm had been properly cast. Unless it required her prince charming feel the same way about her… and he didn’t.
Oh, the pain of it! Love was no fun at all, not when your happiness depended on your love loving you back.
“I’ll be on my way then.” Anzlyn was at the cottage threshold, and she hadn’t had a chance to speak with him yet, to beg for a favor… no matter what it cost. “I’ve done what I can here.”
As soon as he left Mudcastle, an argument erupted over how to explain Lexi’s rapid growth to the people of Tintagos. While no one was paying attention to Cissa, she popped outside.
The silvery fallen angel’s black horse was still there, grazing beside Mavis, but he was gone.
She flew to the lilac stand, past the boundary Beverly had spelled to keep the humans out—which didn’t affect fae anyway—and slipped inside the portal. In a twinkling, she was at Igdrasil, waiting for Anzlyn when he arrived.
She touched the world tree without a thought. She was one of very few fairies not afraid of it, and quite proud of the fact.
“Take me with you.” She followed the fallen angel as he stepped behind Igdrasil and ont
o the hidden path which led to the rocky shore below. “Take me to Avalos.”
He stopped on the path and raised an eyebrow at her, as if surprised by her audacity.
“Take me with you,” she said again. “I have to ask the abbess something.”
His eyes were kind and serene but unmoved. He gave her a compassionate smile, and the corners of his mouth twitched in sympathy. Just the kind of understanding that raised her hackles.
“I don’t control who visits Avalos,” he said. “Brother Sun and Sister Moon have noted your wish. I understand that patience isn’t among a fairy’s many virtues, but I’m afraid patience is all I can counsel.”
The boat to Avalos shot out of the mist and pulled up to the shore with Velyn at its helm. In a flash, Anzlyn transported down to the boat—and in the twinkle of an eye Cissa followed him.
“Take me with you!” she cried. “Velyn, don’t you remember me?”
But the boatman of the Redux said, “It’s not in my power.”
“I’m sorry, Queen Narcissus,” Anzlyn said. “Truly, I am.”
A dark, uncomfortable mist—a fever mist, for sure—mustered between her and the boat, forming an impenetrable barrier.
She rammed it. She tried to drill through it, spinning so fast she got a headache, but to no avail. “Let me…”
From somewhere beyond the mist, thunder boomed softly, and in it she heard Aeolios say, “Not now.”
“Please! P...p…pleeeeeeze!”
“Go home, Cissa,” said the smug minor god. “That’s a good little fairy queen.” And he blew her all the way back to the faewood.
Cissa landed on her butt on her bed in her bower and immediately jumped out again. “Rats!” She stomped her foot. “Rats! Rats! Rats!”
« Chapter 10 »
Nanny Violet
Faeview
“Would you like honey in your tea, Mr. Max?” With elegance and refinement well beyond her years—rather, her months—Little Lady Lexi lifted the delicate china teapot with one hand and held the top on with the other.
