The Glass Man

by Jocelyn Adams

  “D’yeh think it’s too much?” Willa continued to primp my hair. Half lay in a lattice-work of braids and the rest hung down my back in bouncing golden curls.

  Althea paused from her chore of returning the rest of the fetish-wear to the endless racks of clothing along the far wall. She put her hands on her hips. “We’ve covered her ’bout as much as he’d allow. Knowin’ him, he’d have her goin’ in naught but the red knickers.”

  “I guess I should be thanking you, then,” I said. I’d never seen such a large room devoted to dressing. Parthalan’s clothes hung in a mammoth closet through a door next to the vanity table. Mounds of makeup and hair accessories covered the marble surface of the vanity, and some had fallen down to the floor, spraying pink powder halfway across the shining blue tile. All of the clothes he’d made for me were more suited to a brothel catering to the Goth crowd.

  A snicker to my left drew my gaze away from the mirror.

  “Oh, hell.” I rolled my eyes and looked for something to cover myself with but found nothing but my own hands. “What do you want? Did you come to gloat, you lousy slime?”

  Rourke watched me from the doorway. I noticed something different in his eyes, something softer. Was it pride? No. He snickered, a different sound than his normal barking chuckle. “Do you always talk to Rourke like that?”

  The two selkies sniggered behind me.

  I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer to him. The clothes were different: black pants, a black button-down shirt and an ornate red cloak with golden embroidery slung over his shoulders. His hair had been neatly arranged and secured with a red ribbon tied into a bow.

  “Why are you talking about yourself in third person?” I searched for what I’d missed and what the girls found so funny, but I saw nothing obvious.

  The ribbon disappeared, and his locks retreated toward his head into a shorter style with lighter brown curls. His eyes changed only a little—swirls of yellow appeared instead of the silver. A goatee sprouted on his chin, his shoulders broadened, and he grew taller by a foot.

  I picked my chin off the floor. “You’re Donovan, the one from the tower. How did you do that?”

  “It’s my cumhacht.” His amused face relaxed. “I can create illusions that go beyond normal fae glamour.”

  “Nifty. But … where’s the real Rourke?”

  He flashed a satisfied smile. “I made him think I was you and lured him down to the cell block for a little slap and tickle. He’s probably still shackled to the wall, waiting for you to put on something more … enticing.” He looked me over, rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  I snorted. “You what? Why would he be so stupid? He had to know Parthalan would have killed him if we’d done anything like that together.”

  “Have yeh met our Rourke?” Althea asked. “Promise him a bit o’ pain and he’ll follow yeh ’round like a kitten after a lick o’ cream. He likes gettin’ as much as dolin’ out.”

  We all groaned and nodded.

  “Why are you so familiar to me, Donovan?” I moved closer to him. “And why did you help me back there on the stairs?”

  “Told yeh,” Althea said. “She don’t waste any time, this one.”

  “I see that.” He grinned, sending warmth through my body. The warmth of home.

  I turned to Althea. “How did you find him?”

  “Yeh lucked out. He found me whilst I was wanderin’ about lookin’ for ’im whilst Willa was doin’ yeh up.” She winked at him and wandered away.

  I put my attention back on Donovan. “Who are you really?”

  He looked away for a moment. “I thought I’d never meet you. I thought … we all thought you’d perished when Parthalan kept turning up empty-handed.”

  “We’ll just …” Willa grabbed Althea, and they went out the door.

  He offered me his hand, and I took it with an instant sense of trust. That was new.

  “Parthalan could have taken me dozens of times, but he just played with me and left.”

  “Because he wanted you for himself. I get that now. If he’d turned you over to the queen, he wouldn’t have been able to kill her so easily. I swear none of us saw it coming. I looked for you so many times, but … Parthalan is a better tracker than I am. I’m so sorry.”

  He put his other hand over top of mine. His sad eyes travelled the length of my arm until they landed on my face. I squeaked when he jerked me forward and wrapped his arms around me. His breath rasped as he worked to keep it even. “You look so much like your mother.”

  I froze. It took a few tries to find any air to speak with. “You’re my father.”

  He pushed me out to arms length, kept his hands on my cheeks. He nodded. A single tear trailed down his dark ivory skin. I caught it on the tip of my finger. Part of me had written him off as a figment of my mother’s imagination, a dream that never truly existed. It was the other part of me who recognized him from the place in my soul where he’d always been with me.

  “Then that means—”

  “Garret is your brother.”

  I backed away, my sight turning inward. “I just need a minute.” I paced, my pulse flying into a tizzy while I thought it through. For years I’d wondered what he looked like, what kind of a person he’d have to be to win my mother’s heart. I’d been near him for a few minutes, and I already knew why she’d loved him. He radiated kindness and affection, a comforting presence in a cold world. One part of it didn’t make any sense. “If Garret is my brother … he must have a different mother.”

  “I loved your mother with every part of myself. We were secretly mated before the Goddess after the fae war.” He pinched the top of his nose as if reliving a painful memory. “We don’t procreate easily—only a few couples succeed in producing children. Arianne and I … when we were blessed with Milo, we vowed to bring as many as we could into the world.”

  “But … how old is Garret?”

  “Fifteen.”

  The cogs in my brain screeched to a halt. “I would have been five years old. I’d have known if my mother was pregnant.”

  “She used the same glamour she used to change your appearance and to make you believe your skin and eyes looked human.”

  “But …” I shook my head. “Why hide that pregnancy and not my sisters’?”

  Donovan pulled a chair from the vanity table and motioned for me to sit down. After staring at him and finding no signs of deception, I sat. He knelt before me.

  “Arianne knew and loved all of you from the time of conception. She knew Garret would have Unseelie eyes, like me, and he’d be better off growing up among our people. It’s hard for a fae to live happily outside the faerie mounds.”

  My mother seemed happy enough. Didn’t she?

  I tried to be patient while I waited for the rest. When it didn’t come, I frowned at him. “That doesn’t explain why she would hide him from me, and change my appearance, and didn’t tell me she was a queen, and that we were all fae and probably all had some sort of power. Was she ashamed of me?”

  Donovan took my hands and cradled them on my lap. He set his forehead down on them for a moment before staring up at me again. “Her mother, Abigail, the one you call Nan, delivered the prophecy.” His voice deepened and quieted as if he spoke forbidden words. “A golden-haired child will be born to the Seelie with the power to unite them again.”

  “And why did mother think it was me?”

  He smiled. “Your mother never ‘thought’ anything, my sweet child. She knew you would be the one, could feel your power coursing through her body as she carried you. She fled from Dun Bray to keep you safe. The Seelie had grown weak and vain, so caught up in modern gadgets and appearances that they had forgotten their duty to this earth. Your mother wanted you to meet the Goddess with your own eyes, to commune with her creatures and her people and make your own judgments untainted by the fae of either Court. She knew Greisha, the Unseelie queen, would hear of the prophecy and send for you. Arianne didn’t expect your powers to manifest
so soon or Parthalan to find you so quickly after.” He looked down. I wondered what he didn’t want me to see in his face. “She never dreamed Parthalan would set events in motion to destroy the humans. If she had, I think she would have prepared you better.”

  “She could have at least told me what I was.” I swallowed the anger down. Numbness swept through my core. “Liam told me nobody wants him because he’s a half breed. So that’s what I am too, right?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Nobody will ever know unless you tell them.” He looked at me with fatherly adoration and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “You and I are the only living fae that know the truth.”

  I pulled my hands back and turned away. “Maybe that’s why none of the Seelie Sidhe came to find me. They must know, too.”

  “That’s not true. I’m sure they looked for you as I did.” His eyes found me again, haunted. “Other than our family, nobody has seen one in twenty years.”

  Did that mean all of the Seelie were dead? I rubbed my stomach to quell the churning. “Why is it so wrong to carry the blood of both Courts? What’s wrong with me?”

  “A stupid, centuries-old conflict, that’s all. And I think you’re forgetting the most crucial fact. A child of mixed blood is more powerful than any who came before. You, Lila. You can unite the Courts again.” He stood and leaned against the vanity, cast an unwavering stare at me. “You can return civility to the humans. It may take centuries, you may have to spill blood to see it done, but if any can do it, it’s you. You’ve made it so far on nothing but your own strength of will and tenacity. I have faith in you.”

  “That makes one of us.” I bolted up. “Parthalan is about to bind me to him. I’ve already failed.” Would Parthalan be able to tell that I’m already mated with Liam?

  “Don’t say that! You haven’t. Go to the chamber and wait. You will leave here tonight just as you are, the rightful queen of the Seelie Sidhe.”

  My brow furrowed. “What are you planning to do?”

  “We haven’t the time. I need to get—”

  “No. I need you to do something for me, and I don’t want you anywhere near Parthalan. He knows it was you who distracted Rourke on the steps. He’ll kill you.”

  “You don’t get your stubbornness from your mother, young lady.” His smile held sadness. “I’ll do what I must.” He held his hand up when I opened my mouth again. “Now tell me what must be done.”

  I tried to glare at him, but I couldn’t. I sighed. “The selkie skins … do you know where Parthalan keeps them?”

  “In locked cold storage a few floors down, why?”

  “Can you get in there without raising suspicions?”

  A curious grin curved his lips. “I can’t, but Rourke can.”

  “Then please, get the skins and help the girls get out of this place. I’ll figure something out with Parthalan. I can’t leave here until I know they’ll be safe.”

  Pride flooded his eyes again. “Now that you get from your mother.” He kissed me on the forehead. “Selflessness.”

  “If you say so.” I hesitated, stumbled over the words a few times before I spat them out. “One more thing before you go … the buildings, they …” I grunted in frustration and fidgeted in the corset. “If I tell you, you’ll think I’ve gone mad.”

  “They live for the one they recognize as their true monarch, their protector and savoir.”

  I waved him off. “That can’t be what it means.”

  His eyes darkened. “Does Parthalan know?”

  “He destroyed one of them when it ate me earlier, so yeah, I think he knows.”

  Donovan nodded and opened the door into Parthalan’s bedroom, his lips pressed together. As he went through, he said, “Don’t be angry with him.” He closed the door behind him.

  When his words sank into my rattled brain, I followed after him and yelled, “Be angry with whom?” but he’d already gone through the outer door into the hallway. The sickness in my stomach worsened as I walked into the bedroom and sat down on a chair by the fireplace.

  Willa hovered at the end of the frilly princess bed.

  “How long before I have to go?” I asked.

  She came and knelt beside me, watched me with those large seal eyes. “Fifteen minutes. What’s goin’ ta happ’n now?”

  “Donovan will bring your skins here, and then he’ll get you and Althea out.”

  Althea stopped straightening the covers on the bed and turned to me, her mouth hanging open in shock. The way she’d been drooling over Parthalan, I wondered if she’d actually leave.

  “That’s no’ wha’ I meant,” Willa continued. “What’ll happ’n ta you?”

  I laughed, a hysterical burst of sound. “I have no idea what will happen. I think Donovan has something in mind, but …”

  “Yeh’re afraid for ’im.”

  I couldn’t speak, so I nodded.

  She wrapped her hands around mine. “I best ready meself, then.” She squeezed my hand for a moment and smiled as she stood. “The selkie won’ forget what yeh’ve done.”

  As she walked away, I ached for her to come back and hold my hand again. A ridiculous sentiment that I shook off. No time to fall apart now. I’d found my father at last. I needed to find a way out of the ceremony without him dying to get it done. I’d never escaped Parthalan once he had me in his grasp, but I had to do it that time, even if I had to … kill him. My chest tightened. Killing on purpose would lead down a dark, slippery road I’d sworn never to travel. To save my father, I’d have broken every one of my rules.

  18

  A knock came on Parthalan’s bedroom door ten minutes after Donovan left. Two fae guards entered, wearing the same black outfits with the red and gold capes that Donovan wore. Their black shoes gleamed.

  “I’d like a robe to wear until I get there, Willa.” I peered around the doorframe from the dressing room. The red corset pinched, and the hose itched my legs beneath the vinyl boots. My lips tingled, slathered with a sticky layer of bright red gloss.

  “Just as you are,” the shorter of the two guards said. He had thick forest green hair woven into braids and light coffee-toned skin. His crystal eyes held splotches of mint. He stood as straight as a T-square.

  Willa shrugged, a frown pulling at her full lips. “Sorry. I’m sure he’ll be wantin’ to show off his prize.”

  I pounded a fist against the door and hung my head for a moment before I crossed my arms over my chest and stepped the rest of the way into the room. If I’d had Donovan’s cumhacht, I would have made myself look like a wart-ridden hunchback and crawled into the nearest bell tower.

  The other guard’s eyes bulged as if they might pop out and roll over for a closer look. I glared at him. His short hair looked dark at first, but when I looked closer, I found a few shades of plum.

  He cleared his throat, offered a little bow. “Pleased to serve you, my Queen.” His deep, mellow voice soothed.

  “I’m not your queen.” I couldn’t be as rude as I wanted to be. Who knew which of the fae could be useful later? “Nice to meet you both.” My hips swayed as I walked toward them. Damn boots. No wonder the women who wore them always walked like whores; I couldn’t help it. “What can I call you?”

  Green Hair fumbled for the door knob while his eyes scanned me. When he managed to get it open, he gestured for me to go out with a dramatic sweep of his arm.

  He stuttered a few times before he spoke. “I’m Lochlann, and this is Cas.” He cleared his throat, and his eyes left me in favor of the wall. He won a little of my respect for that.

  I kept my smile plastered on and sauntered past them, nodding as if I gave a crap. Cas’s lips jerked into a pathetic, crooked grin.

  Concentrating on the growing ache in my abdomen, I followed Lochlann along the wide corridor. I tried to avert my mind from the impossible task ahead and the consequences if I failed. Liam would have been there already if he’d survived. Doubt slithered around my guts and sickened me.

  Lochlann strutted a
s if trying to keep up with someone who had a much longer stride. Cas followed behind me. We walked along an endless maze of vine-infested tunnels and up a flight of stairs. My feet complained in the boots. Considering I’d never worn heels before, it was a miracle I could walk at all.

  “Where are those black banshee things that crawl along the ceiling?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the clacking of my boots anymore. A constant assault of thoughts came at me. What if I can’t stop this? What if Donovan’s plan doesn’t work? How could I stand Parthalan touching me that way again? What if he uses me to destroy what’s left of the human world? A tremble ran through me. Help me, mother. Give me strength.

  “Our king sent all of the Sluagh out on a task.” Lochlann peered at me over his shoulder. “He sent the banshees with them.”

  Smooth, Glass Man, very smooth.

  I couldn’t stand the weight of Cas’s gaze any longer, so I stopped and whirled around with my hands on my hips. Where else can I put my hands in this outfit?

  Cas froze. His eyes were fixed to the place where my exposed butt cheeks would have been. I glared as his skin turned from dark tan to several shades of red.

  “Having a good look, Cas?” I asked.

  “I … forgive me, my Queen.” He stared at the floor.

  Lochlann stomped over and smacked the younger fae on the side of his head. “What are you doing? Parthalan catches you eyeballing her like that, and I’ll be cleaning you off the floor with a mop and bucket.”

  “I doubt it.” I uttered a frustrated grunt. “Anything that humiliates me seems to tickle his funny bone. What’s so fascinating, anyway? It’s just ordinary skin.”

  Cas lifted his gaze, rubbed at his head where the other guard had hit him. “There’s nothing ordinary about your skin. I couldn’t help it, your bare …” He paused, and discovered a few more ruby shades while he gestured to my back side, “I’ve never seen anything like yours, and I’ve never met a Seelie Sidhe before. I feel like I need to touch you to see if you’re real.”