by L. K. Rigel
Elyse raced down the stairs to the hall with no idea how long the repeating spell would keep Lourdes occupied. Galen was at Diantha’s chair, his hand extended as if asking her to dance. Elyse got his attention and motioned for the two of them to follow her.
In the antechamber she said, “There is no time to explain, but Lourdes has gone mad. She wants to hurt you. Kill you both, I think.” Elyse had broken her promise to Mother to care for Lourdes’s happiness, and now she set aside her sorrow and guilt. Forget happiness; she just hoped she could save her sister’s sanity.
Galen reflexively put his arm around Diantha, but she was the one who spoke. “What do you want us to do?”
“Go find Odysseus and Penelope. They’re likely still saddled,” Elyse said. Poor Diantha’s eyes grew wider than ever. “You can do it, princess. Ride as fast as you can to Igdrasil. My power is strongest there. I’ll be able to protect you.”
Diantha shuddered.
“All will be well,” Elyse said. “Remember?”
Galen kissed Diantha’s hand. “I know you can do it, my love.”
“She’s coming.” The repeating spell had dissipated. Elyse felt Lourdes’s fury. “Go! I’ll meet you there.”
Elyse made her way back to Lourdes, up, up the stairs. Lourdes had asked for mother’s old room. For sentimental reasons, she’d said. But of course it was the highest room in the keep with the clearest view to poor Igdrasil. When Elyse burst through the door, Lourdes was standing in the window casement.
“Hector!” she cried. She glanced over her shoulder at Elyse, wild-eyed, cruel. Filled with more contempt than a hundred Queen Elfryths. Lourdes smiled wickedly at Elyse then turned. She jumped.
“Lourdes!” Elyse raced to the window, knowing she was too late.
How did she do that? Lourdes was on the ground below, seated on Hector, her cloak billowing as she urged him toward the castle gate. Beyond, the moon shone on Galen and Diantha riding at full speed over the fields toward Igdrasil.
Elyse’s heart pounded like never before. Great gods help me! She cried, “Andromache!” and leapt.
For one second she felt nothing, heard nothing, sensed nothing.
Then there was a rushed feeling, and she was seated on the horse—precariously. Elyse leaned forward and gripped Andromache with her knees. “Sun and moon, help me hold on.” She’d wyrded the horse and the bit and bridle—but no saddle. She didn’t remember the fall. One moment she stood on the cool stones of the window casement. Then she was clinging to the speeding horse and charging past the gatehouse.
Everything about the world bombarded her senses. Aeolios was abroad tonight. He’d blown away all mist and clouds. The moon was brilliant and the stars blazed. The cold night wind filled her lungs with sea air. The jeweled net that bound her hair fell away, and the wind blew it everywhere.
Ahead she heard Hector’s complaining snorts—and Lourdes…panting? A strange repetitive mix of grunt and whine. Farther ahead, Galen and Diantha neared Igdrasil. They were going to make it. But Elyse was not. She slipped from Andromache’s back, the ground blasting toward her face.
“Igdrasil!”
She didn’t hit the ground. She landed in the tree, safe between two huge branches. Igdrasil’s energy streamed into her and filled her with strength and confidence and love. It connected her to all of life. She could feel Mother, pulsating, singing in every molecule of every discrete thing in existence.
All will be well.
On her right far below, ocean waves broke over the rocks at the cliff’s base. On her left, horses’ hooves pounded the earth. Galen and Diantha were coming, the princess in the lead—and Lourdes hard on their heels.
“Galen!” Lourdes screamed. “Galen!”
Ugly, shrill. Full of venom. Lourdes raised her hand to throw a curse, and Elyse blocked it with a flick of her wrist.
Horses’ shrieks mixed with their riders’ screams, horrific yawps of animal and human terror. Elyse had made a terrible mistake. She should have been watching the prince and princess. Diantha didn’t know about the cliff.
“No!” Elyse threw out her hand, and a ball of light appeared in her palm. It grew into a great sphere of living radiance and shot out into the sky past the cliff. The sphere surrounded Galen and Diantha and extracted their souls in the instant before their bodies hit the rocks.
Elyse’s ring expanded, floated off her hand into the air. The gold and silver bands unwound from each other. The gold band absorbed Galen’s soul, and the silver one took in Diantha. In a snap, the bands reunited and returned to Elyse’s hand.
“Elyse?” Lourdes reined in Hector beside Igdrasil and slid off. She walked unsteadily toward the tree. “Is that you?”
Fury coursed through Elyse’s veins. Rage more intense than she’d ever thought possible drove her from the tree to the ground. She ran to Lourdes and raised her hands like claws. “Cage!”
“Elyse!” At last Lourdes had a little respect. At last she believed in Elyse’s power. “I didn’t mean to!” She flailed against the invisible walls of the tiny, fierce boundary. Elyse made the boundary tighter.
“Right, Lourdes. You didn’t mean to. Just as you didn’t mean to kill Mother.”
In rage, in despair, only half aware of her actions, Elyse reached into the depth of Lourdes’s being, extracted her soul, and flung it into the heart of Igdrasil. She flicked her wrist at Lourdes’s body, and it flew over the cliff, as inconsequential as a dead leaf blown away by Aeolios.
Elyse collapsed to her knees, trembling. She stared at Igdrasil’s trunk. Lourdes! Elyse sensed no attempt at communication, but she knew Lourdes was in there. Galen and Diantha, on the other hand, were definitely conscious in her ring—and desperate to get out.
“Diantha.” Galen’s voice dripped with longing and frustration. “I’ll find you.”
“I’m here, Galen, my love.” Sweet Diantha.
Elyse slapped her hands over her ears, but the voices were in her head. Diantha tried to slip unnoticed through an unused part of Elyse’s brain to take control of her body. Elyse nipped that off and drove the princess back into the silver band.
Great gods, what have I done?
This time when the ground flew at her face, it found its mark.
12
A Bower
Moving. The soft pad, pad, pad of footsteps and the smell of damp grass. Elyse half opened her eyes. She was being carried by a man with yellow hair.
“You’re awake.” His eyes were the color of lilacs, and his gaze filled her with well-being. But he was wrong; she wasn’t awake. She was falling through space. Everything went dark again.
Flickering brightness. A beam of sunlight kept slipping past the trees and splashing over Elyse’s face. Now she was awake. She sat up on a pile of leaves. The air smelled of hawthorn and rosemary and damp dirt. She was in the woods at the dip by the fallen tree.
The events of last night flooded her mind. What had she done to Galen and Diantha? To Lourdes? Thank sun and moon Mother wasn’t here and didn’t know. Everything had gone horribly wrong. Galen and Diantha…at least she’d been trying to save them. What she’d done to Lourdes was unforgiveable. She’d thrown the wyrd in a fit of rage, intending to put Lourdes where she could never work evil again. Without thinking it through, she’d stripped Lourdes from her body and trapped her spirit within Igdrasil.
She looked at her ring. Galen and Diantha were still in there, but something was different. They couldn’t get to Elyse’s mind. It was as if the ring had gone to sleep.
“The ring has no power in fae.” Beside her, the man with yellow hair squatted on the ground. It hadn’t been a dream. “Nothing wyrdish can touch us here. All is well, Elyse. I’m so happy to speak to you.”
“Aubrey?” He didn’t look older than his mid twenties—except that his purple eyes betrayed too much. Too much knowledge. Too much experience.
“I’ve brought you home, Elyse.”
“Father!” She threw her arms around him and burs
t into tears. “Oh, Father, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve done something so terrible.”
“Not at all. Not at all.” He hugged her and stroked her hair. His touch was magical; relief and warmth rolled through her. “You don’t have to hide your true self here. You’ll never worry about humans ever again.”
The relief was lovely, but the way he said humans irked her—like talking about vermin or lice. She pulled back. How could he feel that way and have loved her mother?
“You’re free now, Elyse,” said another man sitting cross-legged on a fallen log. He wore an intricate crown of leaves and sticks that sparkled as if covered with frost in moonlight. So lovely. He smiled, and the warm satisfaction Aubrey had given her pulsed and intensified. The crowned fairy rose. “Welcome to your rightful home.”
His rust-red hair was streaked with flame orange. His eyes were the mystic green of the sea when a sunbeam shoots through the water. He was barely clothed, with smooth brown skin over his slender but muscular build. He wore the same gossamer material around his loins as Elyse’s scarf, still draped around her neck. She touched the fabric and looked at Aubrey.
He said, “I’m pleased to see you wear my gift.”
“Our gift,” the other one said.
“Yes, majesty,” Aubrey said. “This is Idris, king of the Dumnos fae.”
She saw then that they were surrounded by people, some in tree branches, some peeking out from behind foliage. They seemed fascinated by Elyse and watched as if she and Aubrey and Idris were performing a play for them.
Idris. So beautiful. She wanted to touch his skin. Touch every part of him, feel his muscles. Was every man like that under his clothes? He extended his hand to her with the grace of a dancer. “Give me your hand.”
When she touched his palm, a shiver of happiness coursed through her. When his gaze rested on her lips, she thought of Lourdes straddling Galen on the ground beside Igdrasil. She wanted to climb onto Idris right now and kiss him and run her hands over his chest.
Their surroundings changed.
“This is your bower.” Idris gestured with his free hand. They were alone in a sleeping chamber, the bed a giant half walnut shell filled with leaves in autumn colors. The pillows were made of dandelion flowers, millions of them held together by fairy magic. Idris tugged her hand, and suddenly they were lying in the bed. Elyse was on her back, and Idris’s hand rested on her belly. She was clothed only in the gossamer fabric—barely. Nearly all her skin was exposed.
The view above was clear of trees, and stars blazed in the night sky. But wasn’t it daytime?
A shooting star streaked overhead. “A good omen,” Idris said. He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth as he caressed her breast. She trembled with desire and heat. What do you know? She heard Lourdes’s voice. You’ve never been in love.
“Galen and Diantha!” She blurted out the words as a reminder, a charm to bring her to her senses, and pulled away from Idris.
“You’re in fae now,” he said. “Let go of human things.”
“I have to go back.”
“But you don’t.” Idris chuckled as if the thought were absurd. “You’re free here. In fae there are no mistakes.”
He was so beautiful. Now she understood Lourdes’s feelings for Galen. Mother’s for Aubrey. Galen’s for Diantha.
“All your life you’ve struggled for happiness, longed to be recognized for who you really are.”
“How do you know that?” Had the fairies been watching her in the woods when she gathered botanicals? That life seemed so far away.
“It’s the human condition,” Idris said, with the same contempt in the word human. “You never have to suffer that again.” He kissed her again. “I’ll show you all the ways of fae, and for fun you can show me the little tricks your mother taught you.”
She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feel of him, so warm. All her muscles relaxed and were alert at the same time. His mouth traveled down her neck to her breast. She was on fire for him. But it was no good.
“I’m so sorry,” Elyse said. “I can’t stay. I want to so, so much.”
A tear slid down her cheek. She’d found her true home. The mere smell here in fae was intoxicating. The pleasure in Idris’s touch was almost painful it was so good, and she wanted more of it. Almost impossible to think of losing this. Almost. She had to go back to Glimmer Cottage, back to the world. She had the power to do what no one else could: unravel the spell that had turned to curse. Free Galen and Diantha. And Lourdes.
“It’s your human side that wants to atone.” Idris still smiled, but he couldn’t hide his anger. “In fae, regret doesn’t exist. You’re here. You’re free. Come play with me.”
“I have to go back.”
“The fae live for thousands of years. Even faelings live for a thousand, minimum. Do you understand what that means? No one can live with regret—or guilt—so long a time and not go insane.”
“I am human. We’re made for regret and guilt.” Mother would never have said that.
“Not all human.” His wicked smile drew her to him. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she felt hers warm again. She could kiss him. Just one more time. “Not human enough.” He said. “Kiss me again, faeling.”
A thousand years with Idris would be wonderful. But he was wrong about regret. She would feel this guilt no matter where she lived. She was in fae now, and she felt it. It would be worse here, where her wyrding power—such as it was—didn’t work at all. A thousand years with no recourse. That would drive her mad. A thousand years knowing two souls were bound in her ring, unable to set them free. Lourdes locked inside Igdrasil, and no one to save her.
“I have to go.”
“Kiss me, Elyse. Could anyone ever kiss you like I do?”
He showed her a cord necklace with odd pretty bits woven into it: a green jewel, pieces of glass, smooth black rocks. “Wear this and I’ll tether you to me, safe forever.” So beautiful, so charming. “Marry me. We’ll make love every day. You’ll be my queen, and you’ll forget.”
She believed him. If she married Idris, she would be bound to fae forever. And she would forget Galen and Diantha and Lourdes. And her mother.
She looked at the necklace. It would be easy. Just put it on. But her mother wouldn’t stay with Aubrey though she had loved him. Mother had chosen the human world. The real world, with all its sorrows and regrets—and consolations. Idris promised pleasure, but only pleasure. What was it Mother had said? Desire and delight are not the same things. Elyse had to get away from Idris. Now.
“I forgive you,” she said.
Surprise registered on his face, then confusion. Then alarm. She wasn’t supposed to know the breaking charm.
“I forgive you,” she said again.
“No.” His seductive demeanor evaporated, replaced by fury. But she knew he couldn’t stop her. She was already leaving fae.
“I forgive you.”
Or rather, fae left her. She didn’t move, but the world around her blurred and refocused. The air wasn’t as sweet. She was at the threshold to Glimmer Cottage, and an unfamiliar crow scolded her from the yew tree in the garden. Too late. Too late. She understood its language. Being in fae had changed her.
She opened the door.
13
A Body
Meduyl had made a fire in the parlor
for a visitor Elyse didn’t recognize. He looked middle-aged and stood a little bent over, like he’d been worn down by years of hard work. He must be a local farmer who’d come to ask Lourdes for a wyrd.
“My sister isn’t here,” she said. Word of the disaster at Igdrasil must not have yet spread, but if it was Friday she’d been gone several days. As Mother had said, time didn’t work the same in fae. It had felt like mere hours. “I’d be glad to help you if I can.”
Something smelled wonderful coming from the kitchen. Meduyl was truly taking her new housekeeping position seriously. Now there’d be only one person to care for.
�
�Help me.” The farmer had a look of wonderment on his face, and Elyse realized she was still dressed only in gossamer fae scarves. “I knew I’d find you.” He was at Elyse’s side faster than he should be able to move. Her body responded to him with the same passion she’d felt for Idris.
“Galen.” It was the sound of her voice, but Diantha was speaking. They were trying to get out of the ring.
“Get away!” Elyse struggled to break free of the farmer’s hold.
“Mr. Thresher, what are you about?” The alarmed woman at the doorway wore an apron and held a kitchen towel, but she was not Meduyl. “Who has you there?”
“Tunic,” Elyse said. She was instantly covered with a dress. Quite nice, in fact, made of soft and colorful cloth.
“A fairy’s got me, Mrs. Thresher!” The man ran behind a chair near the fireplace. Where did that chair come from? He wasn’t afraid, Elyse was sure of that; he wanted to hide his aroused state from Mrs. Thresher. “Bring the salt!”
Mrs. Thresher ran back to the kitchen and Elyse ran out the front door, calling for Hector’s harness.
“Sun and moon!” She didn’t recognize the rig that appeared in her hand.
Too late! Too late! The crow again scolded her. She muttered cursed crow, and the bird fell to the ground dead.
Oh, Mother! Elyse burst into tears. Her power had finally come in—stronger than she ever dreamed of. You can’t begin to know your power, Elyse. This is what Mother had tried to protect her from. “Hector!” But with dawning terror, she knew he wouldn’t appear.
Mr. and Mrs. Thresher did appear. They ran toward her, throwing handfuls of salt and yelling at her to go away.
Elyse shouted, “A horse—to ride!” A serviceable bay, saddled and bridled, trotted to her from the barn. She mounted quickly as the farmer and his wife filled the air with screams. Thief! Fairy! Woe! Woe! Help us!
Elyse thought invisible and urged the horse on, leaving the farmer and his wife absolutely convinced that a fairy had stolen their horse.
