Heart of the Fae

by Emma Hamm

  “There isn’t.” The creature’s voice lifted in amusement. “It’s my dinner.”

  Sorcha narrowed her eyes and cried out. There was a man tangled in the webs. At least, she thought it was a man. The spider woman had wrapped him up so tight, she could only see the outlines of pectoral muscles and the bulging thigh muscles that strained against his ties.

  “He’ll quiet down eventually.”

  The webs covered his face, preventing him from breathing. “He’s going to suffocate.”

  “Yes, he will. That is the point.”

  “What a cruel way to die.”

  “It is better than poison that travels slowly through the blood. At least now he will calm down then drift off into sleep.”

  “Why not just snap his neck and be done with it?”

  The movement of the woman paused, and Sorcha felt the weight of her gaze like a physical touch. “Would that be your preference?”

  “If you plan to eat me, I would like not to be alive at all.”

  “I don’t plan on eating you. Little girls like you make terrible meals. Not enough meat on your bones. Besides, humans are always so bitter.”

  Sorcha lifted a hand and pointed. “That’s not human?”

  “No, that’s Seelie. I prefer a lighter diet while I’m watching my figure.”

  “You’re watching your figure?”

  “Isn’t every woman?”

  Sorcha couldn’t imagine what figure the creature was talking about. It was hard to force a ball into sensuous curves.

  “Why have you brought me here?” she asked.

  “All in good time. Get up, girl.”

  She looked back up at the man who was tangled in the creature’s web. His struggles were slowing, a few twitches here and there were the only way she knew he was still alive.

  “I think I’ll stay here.”

  “You want to watch him die?”

  “No.”

  “Then get up.”

  Sorcha couldn’t find an argument. Sighing, she rolled onto her knees and told herself to forget about the man in the ceiling. He was beyond her help, no matter how much she wanted to cut him down and breathe air back into his lungs. She, too, was at the mercy of the monstrous woman.

  “What shall I call you?” Sorcha asked.

  “You may call me Your Queen.”

  “Queen?” Sorcha gasped. “Are you—”

  “Yes.

  The queen of the Unseelie Fae stood before her, and Sorcha was acting as if she were some beast she needed to squash beneath her heel. She was lucky to still be alive.

  Falling onto her knees, she pressed her thumbs to her forehead. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I am a lowly beast indeed to not recognize royalty.”

  “I asked you to get up. Do not make me ask again.”

  Sorcha scrambled to her feet again. What did this creature want of her? The darkness stirred, casting out mist in great billows that swirled around the Queen’s legs.

  Her legs moved in synchronization Sorcha realized. Not like a real spider which sometimes could seem jerky in their movements. This woman moved with a natural grace. Each leg lifted and was placed so gently that the sound they made was quiet and dull.

  “Are you done staring?”

  “What?” Sorcha looked up to see that the Queen was staring back. She was immensely tall. Easily two of Stone’s great height. “My apologies.”

  “Stop apologizing.”

  “I—” she cleared her throat. “I understand.”

  “Good. Now, follow me.”

  She didn’t want to follow this creature deeper into the darkness. Who knew what waited for her there?

  The Queen saw her hesitate. “I’m not going to kill you, child.”

  “You have yet to answer why I am here.”

  “Because I bade you come.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  The Queen sighed. “There is much at play here. You have stepped into a world where you will make a decision that will ultimately affect all the players on the board. I will not leave the fate of the Fae in the hands of an uneducated human. Follow me.”

  “What do I have to do with that?”

  “All will be revealed in time. The web is large, and there is much to explain.”

  Sorcha watched the spider woman disappear into the darkness with her jaw open. There was much to explain? She was just a midwife, what did she have to do with the fate of the Fae?

  She wouldn’t go with the Queen. They had obviously coaxed the wrong person through the portal.

  Giggles echoed behind her, coming closer and closer through the fog and darkness. Shivers danced up her spine. What manner of Unseelie stood behind her? Was that the wind on the back of her neck or was it the breath of yet another monster?

  She bolted after the Queen, steps loud and uncontrolled.

  The entirety of the castle was dark. Some small sconces decorated the walls, lit with green fire that did little to cast light in any direction. She couldn’t see, but she could hear the queen.

  Thump. Thump. Shhh. Thump. Thump. Shhh.

  It was a horrible sound. The dragging of a thick body by legs too thin and hairy. Sorcha shivered again, knowing nightmares would plague her for years to come.

  The Queen’s chuckle bounced from ceiling to floor. “Good, you are smart enough to follow.”

  “I’m smart enough to not be left behind.”

  “Ah, yes. My children are far too curious for their own good.”

  “Your children?” Sorcha glanced into the shadows. “How many do you have?”

  “Seventeen Tuatha dé Danann children, and hundreds of lesser Fae.”

  That alone was intriguing, and went against everything Sorcha knew. “You have children who are both Tuatha dé Danann and not?”

  “We are not the Seelie Fae. There is value in lives which are not human in appearance.”

  “Do the Seelie Fae not agree?”

  “No.”

  She had suspected as much. The legends always spoke of creatures that looked like humans as kings and queens. So few people saw any kind of faerie that didn’t look like a human.

  A stairwell appeared before them, the stones swept clean and glistening in the green light. Sorcha blinked, trying to bring everything into focus. It was difficult here, where magic was so thick that she could see it like a fog.

  “Do you not wear glamour?” Sorcha asked. “All the faeries I have met thus far have worn a glamour.”

  “Seelie, I take it?”

  “Most.”

  “All. An Unseelie would never hide their true form. The Seelie hide to protect human’s delicate sensibilities when the reality is that we are all beautiful, powerful beings. Humans should run in fear.”

  “You would give them nightmares for the rest of their lives.”

  “Will your dreams be troubled?”

  “Without a doubt,” Sorcha shivered. “I will never sleep again for fear you will hover above my bed.”

  “You flatter me.”

  That was not her intention, although she was relieved her words had complimented the Queen. Sorcha merely told the truth.

  A scrying pool on a large altar stood in the center of the room they entered. Shards of black glass made up the floor. Sorcha stared at it and swore she saw dark fire reflected beneath. Wind brushed across her ears bringing with it the screams of tortured souls.

  The Queen skittered towards it, hunching over the bowl, and rocking back and forth. Sorcha wasn’t certain she had ever seen a spider move like that. Was the queen even part spider? Was she merely wearing the skin of one?

  The Ballad of Tam Lin burst into her mind. The Queen in that story had turned his lover into a spider. He held onto her great abdomen, her legs, her great eyes. For days, he hung on as she changed into dozens of creatures.

  Sorcha couldn’t help but wonder if this chosen form was symbolic.

  “Come,” the Queen said. “Gaze into my pool and I will show you all you desire.”

>   “I desire very little.”

  “Humans lie every day. You desire so many things that you cannot even breathe for the wanting.”

  “I want health and happiness for my family. That is all.”

  “Oh, little human. You desire so much more than that. It is healthy to want.”

  “I care for others.”

  “You care for yourself. The want to heal others builds your confidence, solidifies your reason for being. You have yet to discover who you are. Come.”

  Sorcha stared at the Queen’s strong hands gripping the edge of the stone bowl. “I’m afraid to know what I want.”

  “Everyone is.”

  She stood on the precipice of something great, but she didn’t know what she would find. The Queen offered something without cost.

  “What do I have to do?” Sorcha asked.

  “Listen and learn.”

  Small, black dots appeared on the Queen’s forehead from her eyebrows to her temples. At the same time, every dot blinked.

  A whimper escaped her mouth as she realized the dots were eyes. The Queen, like many spiders, had multiple eyes that all stared with expectation at the human on the stairs.

  What did she have to lose? Thoroughly uncomfortable, Sorcha stepped towards the scrying pool.

  “What would you have me learn?”

  “Everything.”

  The Queen leaned forward and dunked a finger into the clear water. It swirled, dark magic dropping like ink and spreading rapidly. Black swallowed the bowl of water and wisps of white smoke rose into the air.

  “You are entangled in the most important plot of this millennia, and there is so much you need to see.”

  “Why?”

  “The Fae are a tricky lot. Our legends speak of so many beautiful stories. Of heroes who swing blades that cleave giants in two. Of heroines who seduce a man with one glance and drag them to the bottom of the ocean. But we are not a group of people who enjoy death and destruction. There are as many species of Fae as there are stars in the sky.”

  Whispers echoed her words, three voices overlaying the Queen’s.

  “Who are they?” Sorcha asked.

  “My children.”

  “Where?”

  The Queen glanced over her shoulder and nodded. Three women stepped forward, lashed to the ceiling by thin threads of web. They had rings pierced down their arms where the threads looped through. Pale as snow, their eyes were blind. No color lived on their bodies at all. White hair, white eyes, white skin so pale it was blue.

  “Three daughters,” Sorcha nodded. “You are blessed.”

  A smile spread across the Queen’s face. “Blessed? You don’t have children, do you?”

  “No, your highness.”

  “Children suck the lives out of their mothers. They drain them until they are little more than husks. But they are good for the soul.”

  One of the wraith-like women stepped forward. The Queen petted her head and pushed her towards the scrying bowl. “What secrets do you have to share with the little human?”

  The pale woman cocked her head to the side, unseeing eyes blinking slowly. “I share the state of the Seelie Fae.”

  “Why?” the Queen asked.

  “It is important she know the situation in Tír na nÓg. She must know what the people do and how they suffer.”

  The daughter stepped forward and reached out her arm. The Queen looked at her with no emotion, wrapped her strong around the limb, and snapped it in half.

  Sorcha cried out as blood poured into the scrying pool. White bones poked through torn flesh and fragments of hanging muscle dipped into the water. Through it all, the daughter did not flinch nor cry out.

  “What are you doing?” Sorcha screamed. “Stop!”

  “You do not understand our ways. Watch and learn. That was what you promised me.” The Queen patted her daughter on the head again. “Thank you. Go back to your sisters for healing.”

  She stepped back into the fold. The other two reached for the thick threads of webbing and pulled hard. They lifted the injured woman into the air by the rings on her arms. She dangled for a moment, suspended above the ceiling before a long spider leg reached out and pulled her through the webbed ceiling.

  “What was that?” Sorcha whispered.

  “My husband.”

  “There are more of you?”

  “It takes two to make children.”

  “What manner of Fae are you?”

  “Do not waste the blood of my children. Look into the scrying pool and see the truth of the Seelie Fae.”

  Sorcha wanted to follow the injured woman to insist that she might help. Of all people, she could set a broken bone, wrap the injury, pack it with herbs so it didn’t get infected. But these were Unseelie Fae. They would not want her help.

  Swallowing hard, she nodded.

  Black water swirled with blood. She placed her hands on the side and leaned over until she could peer into the depths.

  “What am I looking for?” she asked.

  “There are images even in the darkest of places.” The Queen placed her large hands on top of Sorcha’s. Her flesh was frigid. “See the truth.”

  A dwarf appeared in the water. His beard tangled around his ankles and he fell onto the ground. He reached out to stop himself, but a whip cracked through the air before he touched the ground. His face twisted in pain and he lay still.

  Another man walked towards him, golden hair swinging at his waist. The golden newcomer was perfect in every way. His skin glittered in the sun, his eyes strikingly green. He held the whip coiled around his wrist and nudged the fallen dwarf with a look of disgust.

  “What is he doing?” she asked.

  “They use the dwarves to mine for copper and gold. When anyone tries to leave, they whip them until they either return or die.”

  “Why?”

  “They want the gold but are not willing to work for themselves.”

  The image shuddered, shifting to reveal a beautiful pixie. Her forehead arched up into points, looking very like an autumn leaf. Blushing colors painted her skin, furthering her autumnal look. Black eyes swallowed any white that might have existed on a human, but still seemed kind.

  The pixie winced and rubbed her hand over the opposite wrist. Skin burned red around a brand in the mark of a trinity knot.

  “What is that?” Sorcha asked.

  “The faeries are branded depending upon who they call master. Each of the lesser fae are born with this mark, but it can stretch and distort as they grow. It will be burned again into their bodies if it is difficult to tell who’s mark it is.”

  “Why brand them? Why not simply know who works for you?”

  “So, the faeries can’t slip away in the dead of night and disappear.”

  Sorcha’s mind raced. She knew what that meant, what darkness the Unseelie suggested brewed in the Seelie lands. “They’re slaves?”

  “They most certainly are. Their king has turned them into little more than beasts to trade. They are born, bought, and worked to death long before they see their families grow.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” she muttered. “Why force your people to be unhealthy? It isn’t the mark of a good king if he cannot provide a good life for all his people.”

  “Were you under the impression that the wise king is a good one?”

  “Wise king?”

  The Queen snorted, retreating from the altar with great thudding steps. “It is the name he has given himself. Wise, for his knowledge is vast.”

  “Knowledge does not mean intelligence.”

  “Astute for a human child.”

  “You are not the first to say so.”

  “One last vision especially for you, Sorcha of Ui Neill.”

  Brows furrowed, Sorcha leaned over the pool and stared into the dark waters.

  A woman appeared, painfully beautiful and holding her hand over her belly. Her waist length blonde hair swept nearly to the floor. Silver silk fabric poured from her shoul
ders to sweep the crystal floor.

  “Who is she?” Sorcha asked.

  “Elva, the most prized concubine of the king. Her mother was one of my most prized followers.” The Queen tapped the water with her nail. “She has just realized that she may be pregnant.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “That is not up to me to decide. You will need to know her name. You say you are a good person, midwife. This is one who you could save.”

  Sorcha looked up. “Why would you want me to save any of the Seelie?”

  “I am not a heartless creature. There are some who deserve to live and others who I would relish crushing their skulls beneath my hands. Elva is one whose true name I give to you in full confidence you will use it well.”

  Another of the Queen’s daughters stepped forward, and Sorcha winced in preparation for the next dark deed. She couldn’t take much more of this. The Unseelie were always rumored to be twisted and depraved, but how far did that insanity travel?

  Did they feast upon it rather than food?

  “Peace,” the Queen whispered. “You have seen enough bloodshed.”

  The Princess reached up and held a mirror towards her mother. Vines tangled around the handle. It was as large as Sorcha was tall, and the Queen held it as if it were nothing more than a handheld mirror.

  “Do you know our history?” the Queen asked. “Do you know the difference between Seelie and Unseelie?”

  “Your kind gave up honor and law to live wild and free.”

  “Yes. And do you think we made the wrong choice?”

  Sorcha didn’t know. She shrugged, frowning in concentration as she mulled the question over in her mind. “Who am I to judge others for the choices they make? If a soul is born to be wild, it will only grow angry with a leash wrapped around its neck. If a soul prefers order, then it will shrivel with too many choices. Neither is wrong.”

  “You do not see darkness as evil?”

  “Nothing is evil. The very idea was created by those who won wars and wished to paint their poor choices as the right thing. No one goes into war or battle thinking they are evil.”

  “You speak with the tongue of a philosopher.”

  “I am just a midwife.”

  The Queen’s face split open in that jagged edged smile again. “Come closer, Sorcha. This mirror will show you the future.”