…
On the road back to Wenderdowne, Dearg tried filling in the blanks. He told her how he had gone to Dameri because of his fears over the castle’s newest addition. Dameri asked him in turn to watch over Amie before she left on a wild goose chase for answers, after the gremlin hunt. What Dameri found was Faye and Ginuog, or Ben as he had called himself, already at the Borderlands fighting to stay alive. But when Dearg told Amie what they wanted her to do tonight, at the party, it had her splitting hairs and running off the deep end.
So Amie spouted off the things she hadn’t been able to say in front of the others. “What the heck, Eddie? Why didn’t you tell me they were here? How long have you known about all this?”
“Too dangerous to tell you before and you were nay ready for the truth. You humans always deny everything before you, though it is plain to see as daylight.”
“So that’s what this whole thing was about? Get the human out of the house and set me up to meet up with them?” Inwardly she wondered if his affection for her had been an act as well.
Dearg clasped his hand gently around her neck, eyes glowing with a white fire. “No. Remember what I said…I’d have come up and asked you to come meet with them, but feared the risk. And what were you doing scampering about those tunnels?”
Amie pulled away from his touch, ignored the flash of hurt grazing his look before his walls rose up again. “Why couldn’t you come up to the house? Why meet out here, why all these secrets?”
He took in a shaky breath, then froze up behind a mask of callousness. “I am not what you think I am, Amie.”
“No!” she interrupted him, slicing the air between them with a hand. “I can’t have you turning on me too. One minute I’m supposed to trust Emrys, then fear him. The next they tell me to trust Henry but now he’s obviously working with Emrys and you’re working for Dameri. But Dameri and Henry used to have a thing for each other, according to Cook and Slaine…Jeez, you people are worse than a soap opera!” Throwing up her hands, she trudged ahead, running the rest of the way into the tunnel they came through. Dearg followed, quickly catching up, and was forced to keep up a steady pace to follow her.
The moment they entered Wenderdowne, her ring glowed and warmth draped over her. She had never noticed it before, not until she spent the night wrapped in a fire-starter’s arms. Before their arrival the house looked dimly lit, faded to the brink of death. One step over the threshold and things began to change, to come alive. Her skin prickled with awareness and she tried to harness what Ben had told her before they split ways.
“Listen to its heartbeat and let it learn to know yours.”
She didn’t quite register the fact Dearg was following her to her rooms until they were standing there together, directly in front of a different door. This one didn’t lead to the first floor halls. It disturbed her, the fact she had known how to come this way. Glancing back at Dearg to see if he had noticed, she became aware they were both emitting their own light, gold contrasting silver. Before she could twist the handle and come inside, he braced his hand against the doorframe above her head and slowly lowered his head until their foreheads were pressed together again.
Amie’s heart stuttered and raced wildly in her chest, afraid for what he was about to say next.
“Do nay forget, no matter what you learn or I tell you, Amie…” He wrapped his arm about her waist and lifted her to the tips of her toes against him. “I have never truly loved another being in all my long years. But my spark belongs to you, and should you wish it, half of my hearts.”
Tears fell from her eyes, not because she was a sucker for romance, but because he had reassured her in his own way that he was hers and she could be his. Lifting her hand, she brought his chin up and kissed him and then said, “I can’t do this without you, you know. I know y’all think I’m strong enough, but I’m a lot more fragile than I look.”
“I ken,” he said with a sigh and sparks lit and took flight from their joined skins. “But you have to try. This is a battle you were destined to fight, Amie. If you win, it shall be eternal, no turning back.”
Slaine Cutterworthy once told her the nixy, or gift, pulsing through her body would always be waiting for her at the flick of a switch. But first she had to recognize it, learn to think against her human nature. For once Amie didn’t fight herself. Instead she listened to the still small voice inside of her, whispering truths she had feared.
Flipping on the switch, she felt her house come alive with its secrets. Many she could hear like echoes in the walls, teasing her conscience, so she pushed the memories clinging to them aside. Now was not the time to delve into the past. She had to live in the present.
Maybe that had been her problem all along. Maybe she had devoted her life to the past because she never could get over her parents’ deaths. Maybe she was stunted, stuck on repeat, doomed to replay her failures forever. Who would she become if she learned to accept it?
Shivering at the thought, she finally said, “I can’t believe I had such an easy access out of this place in my own room all this time.”
He chuckled, running his hand through her hair. “And why would they tell you?”
She scowled at him because his eyes told her everything. Both of them knew Amie couldn’t have bypassed the temptation to discover the house’s hidden secrets if she’d known.
Gripping her waist with both hands, he said, “Now concentrate. Where are Iudicael and the servants?”
“Busy making all the overnight guest rooms ready, but Underhill is arguing with Alastair in the kitchens about whether to tell Uncle I wasn’t in bed this morning. Emrys is in the West Wing’s library talking to Feather. Henry is having council with the centaur guests.”
“You’re quite savvy, for a beginner.” He touched her side, leaving a trail of sparks on her dress which refused to fade away. “And I’d best return to all your important guests. Slaine shall slay me if I leave him with those pompous fools.”
She frowned, then dug deeper into the ring, to test his theory of her strength. She could feel everything about the house through the Wenderdowne crest on her finger and the foundations sprawling beneath it if she wanted. With her father’s ring Amie felt whole, the gap now filled by an overwhelming burden. But was she brave enough to go through with their plan?
“Amie, there be something you should ken, something they should have told you long ago.”
“What are you saying? What else don’t I know?” she asked, mind muddled from seeing too much too quickly through the ring. When she managed to focus on his eyes she could tell she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“I listened, last night, while you slept. You talked in your sleep…”
Amie froze, but when she tried to break free of his hold he only grasped her tighter. “I can’t talk about this right now, Dearg!”
“How long have you had these dreams, Amie?” he said, cutting right to the chase.
When she settled down she could see he was deeply concerned for her. Mollified, she caved in. “Long as I can remember. Dad used to have me on sleep meds. They called it insomnia and I think he was worried I was losing it. I couldn’t tell the difference between sleep and reality. But the pills helped. I forgot them when I came here. That’s when they started up again…but here, they’ve actually started to make sense. And that’s what scares me.” She was whispering at the end, amazed how relieved she felt getting everything off her chest.
“I cannot pretend to know much of your kind. But I ken enough to know that what you spoke in your sleep was nay a dream, but a memory.”
Chapter 40
Manifest Dreams
Amie wiped away the wetness on her cheeks and only then realized she had been crying. Why crying? This didn’t mean or confirm anything. This was preposterous, unbelievable.
“You have your mum’s face, love.”
Hadn’t Father told her countless times? Amie made a quick assessment of her mother’s fading memory, of her hazel eyes a
nd rich, straight brown hair. Gran had never said much about it, other than the fact Amie looked the spitting image of Drustan. And they never took photos when Amie was a child because they were too poor to own a camera then…
Oh Lord…
This was the reason Amie had stopped asking so many questions. Somehow she knew she would learn too much, would never be able to wipe away those words once they were stuck in her mind.
The scar on her chest ached and she shut her eyes while flashes of her most recent dreams filled her mind.
…
“No! Dameri, I want to believe you. But it’s not so simple anymore! I’ve loved ye all my life. You chose me. Jessie needs to be with her father!”
“Iudicael—”
…
“I wanted to give you this years ago…” and he dropped the ring into her small palm.
…
“Iudicael, you must take her and flee! I am afraid for her safety!” Mother was crying and pulling the man towards her.
“No, Dameri! I shall nay leave you all defenseless!”
“There is no other way, my love. I would die a thousand deaths to have you both safe and in my arms. But they will not stop until they have her, not until everything we love is destroyed!”
…
Drustan spoke low against her ear. “Forgive me, dear one, for what I am about to do, but if they should find you and look within these memories, they will use anything against you, against us.”
…
She opened her eyes to see her reflection in her dresser mirror and despised the tears in her eyes. Amie had always hated to cry, but only now could she remember why. Because she had cried so much the night Drustan took her and ran away, until he took away her memories.
Rachel’s garish green stockings peeked from underneath her flowing purple skirts while her fidgety fingers draped freshly starched undergarments over Amie’s bed. Wiping her hands on her finest uniform, the hobgoblin screwed her features together to better concentrate. “Hmm…what to do now, Elisedd…we canna have a country bumpkin arrive for her own party! And it must be the most frazzleging look of all!”
It hadn’t been too difficult, throwing Underhill off her trail. All she had to say was she had fallen asleep in Periwinkle’s garden. The old gnome hardly spoke at all, and Henry claimed he hated hobgoblins with a passion.
Bending over, the maid popped the cover off another of Rado’s dress boxes and exclaimed. “Oh! Look at this slice of faerie delight! Milady, it shall be breathtaking!”
Amie frowned at her reflection and tried to concentrate the heat escaping her palms over her wet hair. Her eyes lingered on her ring, mind mulling over thoughts of betrayals and secrets. As an afterthought, she relaxed her inner nixy and tapped into her father’s ring. Finding Emrys was simple enough. He was pacing in the gryphon’s secret library yet, which angered her even more.
All this time and he knew, Henry knew…
“Milady?” Underhill’s bright eyes were narrowed behind her shoulder, staring at their reflections with hesitation. By now Underhill knew better than to try and pull Amie out of one of her moods. Amie tried to hide her irritation and locked eyes with her maid. Clearly Underhill had no intention of backing down on the pomp tonight.
“Hmph…well, I suppose I’ll have to direct ye again…Milady, why can ye never twitch yer shells in the right direction?” Shaking her head, she proceeded to swat Amie’s hands aside.
“Hey! I was drying my hair!”
“Oh twixwhickers! Drying her hair she says. And where did we learn this particular gift, Elisedd? Certainly not from any meddlesome Merlin, aye? Now, be mindful of your posture and manner when introduced to all yer important guests, milady. And, for the love of postlethwaite, be certain ye do nay linger beyond the stroke of midnight, now! ’Tis a deathly time to dance.”
While Underhill monologued, a pile of raven locks were being braided and puffed up on the top of her head laced with silver threads and flowers from Puck. For once Amie focused on the endearing enigma that was Underhill. Was she friend or foe?
“Underhill, how long have you served my family?”
Taken aback, Underhill giggled, shook her head and moved round to better secure Amie’s complicated undergarments. “Oh, great Creator only knows it has been an age. Time tends to travel quickly through here, ye shall learn. Instead we recall memories, important things, I suppose, to fill in the darker gaps over the years.”
“So you knew Drustan and Iudicael when they were boys?” It was the first time she had said Henry’s true name aloud and it put a foul taste in her mouth.
Should I call him Father, Dad or Daddy?
“Oh! Heavens, no! I am not as ancient as that…what an idea!” Underhill turned Amie round to begin her corset torture.
“But you knew them pretty well. You were probably the first to know all about their dirty secrets, too, weren’t you?” Amie carefully watched the warmth stealing over her maid’s face, the flush on her round cheeks. Amie was certain Underhill knew the truth about her mother, about everything. No one else would have been trusted to look after Henry’s niece otherwise.
Amie helped her secure the garters around her upper thighs, pinning her gauzy stockings in place. Underhill’s eyes braced against her glare but she never answered the question. When she rose to fetch the dress, Amie gingerly stepped into the narrow hole at the center of its black-accented emerald skirts. Faeries had obviously had a hand in this piece, for too many jewels and silver beadwork had been hidden amid its folds, certain to catch even the dimmest candlelight. Bracing her arms on either side of the mirrored wardrobe, Amie stared at her reflection as Underhill began the arduous task of attaching the many hooks up her back.
“Underhill?” She hesitated, wondering how trustworthy the maid truly was. “How do you know you’re on the right path? I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and wondered how you know.” Amie winced, knew how silly she must sound, being twenty-seven and still clueless.
“Creator knows, it has to be something buried deep within. A sense of rightness it is. And no one else can be telling you how to walk your own path.” Urging her to stand before her wardrobe length mirror, Underhill beamed behind her. “Now this is a frazzleging look worthy of a Wenderdowne!”
Amie smiled at her reflection and for once believed her.
Enchanted silver strands interwove through the dozens of braids Underhill had woven to pile her hair. A single springy curl was left to roam free over the nape of her neck. But it was the giant emeralds in her earlobes which drew out her eyes. The neckline plunged low enough to show off the only assets she had before her transformation. And the dress itself cinched at her waist and flowed out naturally in a frenzy of black and green silken and sheer fabrics. Amie was grateful for her lack of sleeves this time. Instead the dress clung around her upper arms and shoulders. An endless sea of sparkles winked in and out of focus in the soft candlelight.
In this moment Amie could almost believe all that was said of her.
…
“You look perfect.” Henry’s face appeared over her shoulder. He was decked in an outfit fit for a king and covered in as many diamonds as a man could pull off. He had removed the human mask he often wore for her comfort. Now he glowed with the light of the dawn, the new sun reflected in the gold threading its way through his raven-black hair.
Without turning Amie watched his approach through her mirror. His eyes glowed with familial ardor as he lowered the ancient tiara over her head. Trying desperately to keep the bitterness from her voice, she said, “Henry…I couldn’t…”
“You can and you shall my dear.” He rested his gloved hands on her shoulders. Together they stood, opposites. She was the light of the moon and he was the sun. And Amie knew this was how it was meant to be, now she had taken Drustan’s place.
“Who did this belong to?” Amie stared at the fine metalwork. The tiara clasped itself to her head, rose like sea foam into sharp emerald-studded spires. At its center
their family symbol burned brightest.
“In ancient times the rulers of the Hollow were like night and day, bonded forever. For generations they ruled together and raised their children to carry on their legacy. But they only had sons and no daughters could be found with enough night in them to carry on the legacy. Only remember you were born to this. One day you will be a Queen, my dear."
“With all the rights and privileges thereof?” she said, in an effort to lighten her own mood.
“Naturally.”
…
Digging her fingers into the antique railing, Amie watched the sea of gowns and robes and tuxes with trepidation. She wasn’t ready to face the mob just yet and had been watching them trickle in for some time. Feeling a little like the Phantom of the Opera about now, watching from the balcony rafters of the ballroom, Amie wondered if she could get away with dropping a chandelier on them.
Gerard Butler, what would you do?
With no dessert table to hide behind this time there was little hope of arriving unnoticed. At least she wasn’t the only with enchanted clothes. Mirrors covered the walls, much like the Hall of Glass, only they were gilded gold and reflected the tall candelabrum standing in front of them. Three chandeliers helped illuminate the room, using the same phosphorus lights Amie had glimpsed in the caves. Even though she could not see the band she could hear music in the rafters.
Underhill had truly outdone herself. Flowers hung in garlands in twirling ropes, guarded by singing faeries. Puck had come to sit on her shoulder the moment she stole up onto the balcony and had been chattering incessantly in her ear ever since. Faeries couldn’t speak exactly. Puck preferred to place pictures in her mind with one touch of his skin instead.
Amie muffled a laugh with her black satin-gloved hand. She caught the image of one buxom Seelie waddling through the crowd with her double eyeglass captured in one eye. Puck flitted from her shoulder and onto the banister between her hands, perfectly mimicking the poor lady’s tread.
“It’s a wonder they let you in here.” Amie sighed and leaned forward with her elbows, placing her chin in her hands. Puck fell onto his backside, peppered with laughter, and flashed his razor-sharp rows of teeth at her. Choosing to ignore her little friend she watched the Sidhe greet one another with enthusiasm. Underhill had explained to her how rare it was for them to gather like this. Representatives from every head family in Silver Hollow and many within the Vale had arrived for the celebration.
Silver Hollow Page 31
