A Fairy Tale

by Shanna Swendson

  So, now what?

  She needed to keep Maeve from using the instructions in the song to take the throne and she needed to free the captives. Stopping Maeve wouldn’t be too difficult, given that the instructions in the song were hardly clear and were, in fact, impossible. But there were too many of Maeve’s courtiers around for her to be able to just grab Emily and make a run for it.

  Maeve glared at Sophie and said, “The song?”

  “Oh, it’s been ages since I’ve heard it,” Sophie lied. She had no intention of just rolling over, whether or not the song could help Maeve.

  Maeve came closer to her, her lips twitching slyly. “Don’t lie to me. I know you won’t have forgotten this. You had to learn it for a reason. Now, tell me the first part. I remember it having something to do with how to cross the river.”

  Acting as though she was deeply reluctant, Sophie sighed, took a deep breath and sang, “To reach my side, tell her to cross a river wide that has no bridge. If she can cross not wetting her feet, then she will know the way to my heart.”

  Maeve turned to study the river. “That is easy!” she said after a while. “I am fae. I can fly across.” She spread her arms and a wind stirred the outer skirt of her gown. She rose slowly into the air and moved forward. Sophie bit her lip as she watched. She’d forgotten to factor in magical powers when ruling the tasks impossible. In the Realm this might be considered child’s play. She consoled herself with the knowledge that there were other tasks before they got to the part involving blood. She had plenty of time to stop Maeve.

  Before she was over the river, Maeve seemed to hit an invisible wall that knocked her onto her backside. Sophie barely restrained herself from doubling over with laughter. Even some of the most staunch members of Maeve’s court appeared to fight back smiles.

  Maeve’s skin-tight inner skirt made it impossible for her to stand with any dignity. She held her hands up and snapped, “Will someone help me?” It took two of her courtiers to pull her to her feet. A couple of women rushed forward to straighten her gown and brush the dust off it. Once she’d regathered her dignity, Maeve turned to face Sophie. “You did that!” she snarled. “I have heard about your enchantress powers. Do not thwart me, girl!”

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Sophie said primly, even as she mentally berated herself for not having thought to try. “It would seem that you can’t use magic to complete these tasks.”

  “Do you know a way across?”

  “Why should I? Until a few moments ago, I thought it was a silly nonsense song.” Sophie eyed the distance between Maeve and the water. One good shove and Maeve’s feet would get wet, which would presumably render this whole exercise moot. She gathered her magical resources and focused on the chain binding her, loosening it so that she’d be able to pull her arms free. When Maeve turned to study the river, Sophie made her move, letting the chain slide to the ground and then grabbing one of her captors to shove him at Maeve.

  He checked himself just in time, lurching aside rather than hitting Maeve. Sophie prepared to spring at Maeve, but a voice behind her called, “Stop!” Sophie whirled to see the other human woman—the one who wasn’t Jen Murray—with her arm tight against Emily’s neck, choking her. “If you hinder her majesty, we will hurt your sister.” Jen still held onto Emily’s arms. Emily’s face was turning red, but Sophie couldn’t tell if that was because she couldn’t breathe or because she was furious.

  Sophie had thought she wouldn’t have to worry about a hostage situation with fairies because it wasn’t in their nature, but she’d neglected to factor in what their human allies might do. She took a step away from Maeve and raised her hands in surrender. Only when the woman lowered her arm slightly and Emily’s color returned to normal did Sophie turn to face Maeve.

  Maeve smiled in smug triumph and said, “Now, if you want your sister to live, you will help me win my throne.”

  For the first time, Sophie felt a real surge of panic because she had no idea what to do.

  Forty-five

  The Borderlands

  Meanwhile

  Michael shouted when he felt the thing jump on his back. He tried to keep the panic out of his voice because it was wrong for an experienced cop to be more frightened than two old ladies, but this was beyond anything he’d experienced. Facing enemies he couldn’t see and couldn’t defend himself against was scarier than confronting armed thugs.

  Amelia raised a hand and he felt the thing leave his shoulder. The area around them suddenly grew quieter. “There, that’s better,” she said with some satisfaction. “I don’t know how long it will hold, so we’d better keep going.”

  They’d almost made it to the light when a great whirring roar surrounded them. “What’s this, the flying monkeys?” Michael asked.

  “Can you run?” Athena asked in reply.

  “To get away from this? I’ll try.” He felt things pulling at his clothes and his hair.

  “Then run!”

  They took off, Beau putting on more speed than Michael would have believed possible. The sound dimmed as they drew closer to the light, but he still felt like some of those things were attached to his clothes. He wanted to keep running when he ran straight into Athena, who had stopped.

  “It’s okay, it’s over, I think,” she said, sounding only slightly out of breath. He gasped for air while an invisible vise clamped down on his chest. It was a forcible reminder of why they didn’t even want him working at a precinct desk yet.

  A voice calling, “You!” caught their attention. Michael looked up to see a silver-haired man approaching.

  “I think this is the guy who kidnapped Emily,” Michael said between gasps, wishing he had his gun with him.

  “Yes,” the man said matter-of-factly. “I am Eamon. And you are Sophie’s friend, the man with the badge of office. Where is Sophie?”

  Michael shook his head in confusion. “You kidnapped Emily and you’ve talked to Sophie and you’re still alive?”

  “I am trying to help. I explained myself to Sophie. Where is she?”

  “She’s here. We were coming to help her. I think she’s gone to Maeve.”

  Eamon looked alarmed. “She was warned to stay away from Maeve,” he said. “She’s the one Maeve needs.”

  “She knows that, but she’s trying to protect Emily,” Athena said.

  “Do you know how to find Maeve?” Amelia asked. “I believe that would be the best starting point.”

  “I believe I know where Maeve will go if she has Sophie.” Michael noticed that his wrists were horribly burned. He wasn’t sure exactly how fairy people were supposed to look, but this guy looked like hell.

  “You’ve found the palace?” Amelia asked.

  “Maeve did. Emily found her map, and I think I can locate the palace now. If Maeve has Sophie, we must get there first.” He turned to go, the others falling in behind him. Michael hadn’t had nearly enough time to catch his breath, but he forced himself to continue.

  When they left the woods, they came out into a parklike land dotted with trees. Michael wasn’t sure how fairyland was supposed to look, but this wasn’t it. Everything was drab and brown. “Try not to get too caught up in it,” Athena warned. “It can be very alluring.”

  “Only if you’re into winter.”

  The others turned to stare at him. “Is that what you see?” Amelia asked.

  “Yeah. You don’t?”

  “He has a four-leaf clover,” Athena said. “Sophie said the Realm was dying.”

  “What does it look like to you?” Michael asked.

  “It’s bright and colorful, like a Technicolor movie,” Amelia said.

  “It’s a glamour to hide the true state of things,” Eamon said. “Most of us prefer not to see the truth.”

  They stopped at the edge of a forest, beyond which a grassy expanse sloped down to a river. Across the river was a towering wall of thorny vines. Michael started to ask why they’d stopped, but then he saw that they hadn’t arrived first.
Maeve was already there in what looked like a showdown with Sophie. Michael felt a pang when he saw Jen and another red-haired girl with a bedraggled-looking Emily between them. Not only was Jen not trying to escape, but she was helping hold Emily. She couldn’t possibly realize what she was doing, he told himself. More fairies dressed in that Rat Pack style were part of the group.

  “Now what?” Michael asked Amelia. He doubted that two old women, a sick fairy, a wounded cop, and a bulldog would be able to free the captives, but he felt like they ought to do something.

  Amelia frowned in thought for a moment before giving a very Sophie-like smile. “Let’s see what happens.”

  Forty-six

  The River

  Soon Afterward

  Sophie tried to buy time by saying, “Let me think about it.”

  “Why do you need to think?” Maeve snapped.

  “You’re fae and you don’t know what to do,” Sophie pointed out. “What do you expect of a human?”

  “My people will hurt your sister if you don’t give me what I want.”

  “Yes, I quite understand that.” Sophie doubted that Tallulah would see Emily’s peril as a valid excuse for not honoring an obligation. Even so, she wasn’t going to let harm come to her sister. The problem was, she had no clue how to get Maeve across the river without getting her feet wet, not if flying didn’t work. A boat, maybe? But where was she supposed to get a boat?

  Then she noticed the water. It sparkled the way wind-whipped water did when the sun hit it at the right angle, but there was no wind. She stared longer at the sparkling water and realized that the light was coming from below the surface. It was the small creatures she’d seen earlier and so casually dismissed. They must have followed her. Could they help? They were small, but there were a lot of them. And she was desperate. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “It might be nice if I had some help with this. I may not be able to do it alone.”

  “Do it, or else,” Maeve warned.

  Hoping the small fairies had understood her plea, Sophie went to stand at the water’s edge. A large lily pad emerged from the water in front of her, like a stepping stone. It didn’t look like it would support human weight, but she hoped this was the help she’d asked for. Taking a deep breath while trying to look totally calm and confident, she stepped out on to the lily pad. Another one immediately appeared in front of her.

  She turned back to Maeve. “It looks like all you need is a little faith,” she said. That applied as much to her as to Maeve. Stepping into the unknown with her fate entirely in someone else’s hands wasn’t in her nature. Without waiting to see what Maeve would do, she forced herself to step forward onto the next lily pad. Another appeared in front of her.

  Maeve wrestled with indecision for a moment, then she waved her hands over her dress until it shortened and the skirt flared. Her shoes changed into flats similar to those Sophie wore, but gold like her dress. She stepped onto the lily pad, and Sophie stepped onto the next one. They moved across the river that way, one lily pad at a time, with Maeve stepping directly behind Sophie.

  Just before Sophie reached the shore, Maeve pushed her from behind. Sophie’s balance was excellent, but the lily pad dipped dangerously to one side. Getting her feet wet didn’t worry her, since she didn’t care about gaining the throne for herself, but she didn’t want to fall into the water. Then the lily pad shifted, rising higher so she remained dry. With a silent thanks to her allies, Sophie jumped off the pad onto the shore, then turned to see a scowling Maeve step onto the final pad, which quickly dipped. Sophie was sure she saw water lapping over Maeve’s foot, but Maeve acted as though nothing had happened as she stepped onto the shore. All the lily pads disappeared beneath the water. Sophie caught a glimpse of glimmers under the water near the shore where she stood.

  She turned to see the vines on one section of the wall parting slowly, uncoiling from each other to reveal a drawbridge. When the vines had moved completely, the drawbridge creakily lowered, bridging the river and opening a portal through the walls into a wildly overgrown garden. They’d made it past the first task, but she didn’t celebrate. After all, she’d brought Maeve one step closer to the throne.

  Maeve called across the river to her people, “Bring the captives here, and then keep anyone else from crossing this bridge.” Two of the guards escorted Emily, Jen, and the other redhaired woman over the bridge, and while they were halfway across, Maeve grabbed Sophie’s arm and hustled her through the doorway into the garden. As soon as all of them passed through the entry, a heavy golden portcullis dropped behind them with an ominous clang.

  Sophie had the sinking feeling that no one would leave these walls until a new queen had been crowned. Even if she stopped Maeve, they might not be able to escape.

  Forty-seven

  Across the River

  Meanwhile

  When the drawbridge fell, Amelia turned to the others and said, “Be ready to run for it.” Michael wasn’t sure he was up to much more running, but he thought he could handle the hundred or so feet between him and the drawbridge. His heart gave a painful lurch that had nothing to do with his gunshot wound when he saw Jen and that other woman walking Emily across the bridge, and then he had to bite his lip to keep from shouting when the golden bars filled the entryway, trapping Jen and the others inside.

  Amelia muttered a very unladylike curse as the portal closed. To make matters worse, Maeve’s people moved to block the bridge, like they were expecting invaders.

  The sound of a hunting horn rang out, and Eamon groaned.

  “What is it?” Michael asked.

  “Fiontan and Niamh are coming,” Eamon explained. “They are among the other rulers. They must have followed Maeve.”

  Athena smirked. “Hang on to your hat. This will get interesting.”

  “How interesting?” Michael asked.

  “War,” Eamon answered.

  Men on horseback topped the nearby hill and rode full-on toward Maeve’s people. Michael couldn’t tell how many there were, they rode by in such a furious blur, but he got the impression of great numbers.

  Then yet another group appeared. These looked less fierce. They weren’t on horseback and they didn’t carry lances, swords, or spears. They looked more like they were set to party everyone to death, and they were dressed like something out of a badly colorized black-and-white movie, but then one of the men pulled a Tommy gun from inside his coat, and Michael realized they were serious. “I knew Niall and Orla wouldn’t miss this,” Eamon said with a nod. Still more groups arrived, all in historical attire from various eras. It was like a mob war had broken out on Halloween.

  “What do we do?” Michael asked anyone who might have an answer.

  “Nothing,” Amelia replied. “We let them fight it out, and if we get a chance, we run for the drawbridge.”

  If Michael had any illusions about how dangerous fairies were, they were shattered by the battle that broke out among them—a battle that stood between him and Jen, Sophie, and Emily.

  Forty-eight

  The Keep

  Meanwhile

  Emily flinched when she heard the portcullis drop. A few moments later when she heard the hunting horn, she was glad she was locked inside. She might have been stuck with Maeve, but she was also with Sophie, and when things got sticky, it was always best to be near Sophie.

  The garden looked like what grew around the ruins of antebellum mansions back home, something that had been planted with care but which had gone wild since then. Hedges of rosebushes grew well above her head on either side of a white path, with other plants scrambling for position at the base of the hedges. The air was heavy with the perfume of the roses.

  “Now the path,” Maeve said to Sophie. “Sing that part.”

  “To reach my side, tell her to walk down a path of shale and shell. But she must not step upon a shell or she won’t find the way to my heart,” she sang, then added, “And, no, it doesn’t say how. Presumably, those who are worthy will be
able to figure that out for themselves.” Emily could hear the suppressed laughter in Sophie’s voice as she added, “Somehow I doubt flying is the answer.”

  Maeve bent to study the pathway. “But the stones are all intermingled,” she said. “It is impossible to walk without treading on shells, not even the way you dance on your toes.”

  Sophie shrugged. “Well, if you want to give up …”

  Maeve straightened and whirled on Sophie, grabbing her by the arm. “You know how to do it, don’t you? I demand that you tell me.” Emily held her breath, knowing they were in dangerous territory and things were likely to get ugly very soon. She looked for something to hide under or behind and wondered if she could maneuver her two captors to be between her and whatever explosion Sophie set off.

  But Sophie allowed herself to be shaken like a rag doll. When Maeve stopped shaking her, Sophie said calmly, “I can clear a path.” She reached with her free hand and delicately removed Maeve’s fingers from her arm before turning to face the pathway. She raised her arms toward the path and sang something that Emily recognized as a list of ballet steps in French. She bit her lip to stop herself from giggling. Oh yeah, Sophie was up to something, and she couldn’t wait to see what it was.

  Whatever Sophie did couldn’t have been total nonsense, though, because a glowing spot appeared in front of her on the path. The glow then shrank from the middle of the spot, leaving a ring. Sophie stepped into the ring and another glowing spot appeared in front of her. She turned back to Maeve. “This works like crossing the river. Follow in my footsteps, but be careful.”

  Maeve glanced over her shoulder at Emily and the others. “May they follow?”

  “If they’re not trying for the throne, I imagine it won’t matter where they step once we’ve gone down the path.”

  Sophie moved on to the next glowing spot, and Maeve cautiously followed her onto the first spot. Emily thought she saw a bit of the glow dart back into the center before Maeve stepped. When Maeve had taken a few steps, she called back to the others, “Follow us. I want witnesses to my triumph.”