Trick of Fae

by S L Mason

  CHAPTER 19

  The Fae light dawned through the crystalline window, and Lavender bustled around my room. First, she brushed out my hair, and then she put it into the tightest, seven-strand braid ever.

  “Would you like to see the braid?” Her hands never stopped moving over my hair and skin.

  “Can you do that?” I held my breath, a new tune to learn.

  She whistled, and the mirror appeared but only reflected the back of my head, which looked like a woven piece of fabric. My hair wouldn’t come out any time soon. I had no idea what I was facing, but the last thing I wanted was my hair in my face.

  She pulled out a sports bra. “I finished it last night. I think it’s exactly what you were describing, and it will work perfectly for today.” I was in heaven. The first Fae sports bra and she called it an activity brassier.

  It fit perfectly. I didn’t think the girls were going anywhere. My hands cupped both breasts.

  “Now you don’t have to bind your breasts and are able to run.”

  “No, Janice said go ahead and bind anyway. I’m allowed the clothes I wear. I can use the binding as a rope.” I turned in the mirror, and my heart sped up at the thought that I might need a rope. Pulling air through my nose to calm my nerves, I breathed slow and deep.

  She instantly saw the wisdom of his words much as I had. She pulled out a ten-inch-wide piece of fabric, and she wrapped it around my body, keeping one end loose to tie with.

  “How long is this piece of fabric?” I asked. My breast compressed further with each layer adding weight.

  “Four of your human yards. I think the equivalent of twelve human feet.” Lavender had to be dizzy by now, running around and around.

  Twelve feet might get me from one story to another. If I had to shimmy out a window, it could work.

  She pulled out a pair of pants. They looked like a cross between yoga and Barbarella stretch pants. She presented me with a side-closure, quilted jacket. It didn’t look like it would protect me. It had epaulets for god’s sake. I was waiting for some 18th-century gentleman to jump out with a rapier and say, “en garde.”

  “This was the armor Janice instructed you to dress me in?”

  Lavender smiled brightly. “Oh yes, it’s a special type of armor, light and flexible. More conducive to movement, and much better than the breastplate.”

  I raised my eyebrows and crinkled my nose on one side. I didn’t think it was an improvement on a breastplate other than the weight. Actually, I would’ve felt better wearing a breastplate, even if I lost mobility.

  “I know. It doesn’t look like much compared to a full breastplate, but keep in mind, looks are deceiving. This is Fae. It’s made out of spider silk and woven with spun diamonds to create the hardest material. It will stop whatever weapon used to attack you, including a sword.” I cringed away from her primping hands. She was talking about a sword attempting to chop off various extremities of my body or kill me. So yeah, the whole idea that it’d keep someone from hacking at me—real, fucking comforting.

  “Attacking, that sounds lovely, I’m sure. It can stop the sword, but it won’t stop the bruising, right?” Sometimes I thought Fae were complete morons. They didn’t actually hear themselves when they spoke, but I knew that wasn’t true because they loved to hear themselves speak, which was why they were always talking; they were full of themselves.

  The weight of the entire outfit felt like nothing, and I was running around naked with a pair of tights. To top it all off, she handed me a helmet to match; it was ridiculous. I looked like I was wearing a padded hat. I ripped it off of my head.

  “I’m not wearing this hat.”

  “My lady, take the helmet with you. I know it looks silly, but you are going into battle. Wouldn’t you much rather look silly and live than be beautiful and die?”

  I hate her. I snatched the padded hat and put it under my arm. I supposed if anyone was going to be hacking at me, my head would be the first place to aim for.

  She led me to the stairs, and I cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “Really, I have to walk down seven flights of stairs before I go to my death?”

  I knew there wouldn’t be a reprieve. No coffee or veggie breakfast, but seven flights of stairs along with my padded hat— the day was off to a brilliant start. Going downstairs wasn’t as bad as going up. When you go down, your only hope was that you wouldn’t trip and then end up rolling the rest of the way down. One thing I didn’t enjoy about stairwells in a circle tower, they’re corkscrews. Each stair was wedge-shaped. Footing was everything. One misstep and you’d be head over teakettle to the bottom of the tower. Fae didn’t have these issues. Fae were surefooted, every move graceful and similar to a dance. I wasn’t saying I wasn’t graceful. I could dance, and I had a type of grace, but next to Fae I had two left feet. I liked climbing rocks, shooting guns, and field stripping my weapon. Not like other people who’d never taken a gun apart or didn’t even understand the mechanics of how the weapon worked. I wish I had a gun.

  All I knew was seven flights of stairs and no coffee so call me angry. That and I was desperately lonely. I wished my dad was here. He’d know what to say, even though I was going into the unknown. He’d gone to war for the United States and into the unknown; he called it the sandpit. He said other than knowing that you’re going to get a sunburn and sweat your balls off, you had no idea what was going to happen. You suck it up and make the best of it. I needed to do the same thing: suck it up and make the best of it, even though I didn’t know what I was getting into.

  We reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out into the courtyard area.

  “Where we going?” I asked.

  “Janice instructed me to take you to the stables.” She led me to a wooden structure. It appeared to have grown out of the side of a giant wall.

  I was crestfallen. At least if she’d taken me to the other stables, I could’ve seen Arty. There was an honest to god carriage, a Cinderella look-alike, and it wasn’t made with a pumpkin. It was painted midnight blue, and the wood curled and creating intricate scrollwork. The girl in me enjoyed it, but the tomboy in me said humpf.

  Two pure white horses with fiery red eyes were harnessed to Cinderella’s ride, my ride. The eyes of the stallions reminded me of the little white albino mice, the type used in laboratories. Janice dashed to open the carriage door and waved me inside. His magnetism affected the group of the gathered Fae. These Fae were heavily armed with crossbows, swords, and daggers, all wearing armor similar to mine.

  My stomach flopped, eyeing all the weapons. My hands balled, digging my nails into my palms. I could barely feel the nails, they were too short.

  Why did I bite them?

  Other than the fabric compressing my breasts, I had no weapons, and now I couldn’t even scratch someone eyes out. Adrenaline flooded my system, causing me to take deep breaths. Whatever it is, I can do this. I swear. Tears threatened, but I blinked them back. Save the crying for after, otherwise, I was wasting my energy.

  I climbed into the coach followed by Janice, who shut the door and whistled the lock closed. I got it. It was the exact whistle Lavender had been using, and I’d heard it clearly. The notes played over in my mind, committing them to memory, G, F, G, B-flat, C. That was what I’d been missing and couldn’t hear, that low C. I’d missed it, and that was why I couldn’t unlock my own door. If I could reproduce the whistle, I could unlock whatever it was they’d put me in, freeing myself and maybe even Arty.

  Janice cleared his throat.

  “The seals were released this morning. The first trial will take place at a castle in Jacques’ domain.”

  Big cold fingers trembled down my spine. “Jacques, you mean like the Jacques in the Jack and Jill story?”

  “Yes, the exact same one.”

  “Is he one of the first? Deston mentioned there was a prince that was one of the first.” I gulped. If Jacques was willing to attempt a coup to depose a queen, what would he do to a bunch of humans?
>
  “You were paying attention. Yes, he’s one of the first and probably the most powerful prince in the realm.” His eyes darted over to me and back to the window.

  “What’s the challenge?” I held my breath.

  “It’s a challenge of his choosing, and it will be deadly. You’re only allowed what you have on your back.” His brows drew down over the bridge of his finely sculpted nose.

  Only allowed to take what I had on my back and no weapons. I loved James Bond and Jackie Chan. Both were masters of fighting with what was around them.

  Think, think… I got it.

  “What’s holding my hair in place?”

  He shrugged his shoulders and glanced over at me like I was crazy.

  “I have no idea, a leather thong I guess, why would it matter?” He tilted his head away from me.

  “If there’s some kind of pushpins in my hair, I could probably accomplish the same thing with long spikes and a leather strap or hair wire. If I take it all out, I could turn it into a garrote. That’s a weapon, but in separate pieces, it’s nothing.”

  His eyebrows reached the ceiling, and the color of his eyes turned into lilac as a smile spread across his face. “Well, aren’t you a clever girl!” He knocked the ceiling of the carriage. It came to a jolting stop, and he lowered a window and waved a rider over.

  “Get me two long, thin spikes and a long piece of wire.” He measured about three feet. “Be quick about it.”

  The Fae on the horse turned around and spurred the beast hard on the belly, producing a squeal as he galloped off.

  “My lord, should we keep going?” A voice traveled from another rider.

  “No, we will wait here.” He turned to me. “Killing someone with the garrote is not as easy as it sounds. You have to sneak up from behind and slip it over their head before they have any idea what you’re about. It’s twice as difficult for a human woman because you’re not strong.” He’d moved his hand to my arm.

  I didn’t want to kill anyone, a garrote or otherwise. A garrote wasn’t the only thing you could make with metal spikes and wire.

  My bravado took over with a smirk. “Don’t you have some kind of song to make metal stronger that you can use on me?”

  He touched his nose. “You have a clever mind. Yes, we do have such a song.”

  We waited for about half an hour for the rider to return. He handed the items through the window, and Janice held them in his hand.

  I listened closely. Whatever magic he used would be important, and I had to remember it. If I could make an item stronger, I could survive. Maybe.

  My eyes darted from the metal in Janice’s hand to his face.

  Assuming I could sing it, I knew that was the secret to getting out of here. I had to learn every song, anything to give me an edge. Janice was right. I needed allies. I needed Arty.

  He began the song, and it carried the underlying current of a song I heard as a child.

  Mary had a little lamb.

  I didn’t want him to catch me humming, so I tapped against my thigh and sang it in my head.

  I turned away from him, and he took out the leather thong untying the base of my braid together. He rewrapped it with the wire, and then he inserted the two long spikes into my hair. I felt them scraping against my scalp as they slid in. It wasn’t much, but something was better than nothing.

  An hour passed until I spied on the horizon the spires of another castle. Of course, they all looked like a fairytale castle because they were. This was Jacques’ domain.

  “I’m here as an emissary for Deston. If I’m attacked, it is an act of war. However, having you attacked is not. Although you fall under Deston’s protection as a candidate for the trials, you are provided no such protection under the law. No one within Deston’s domain may attack you without reprisal. However, once we leave his domain, you’re free game for anyone.”

  That was comforting. Within the castle and his lands, I was safe but the moment I stepped outside of it, everybody and their cousins were trying to kill me. Lawfully.

  CHAPTER 20

  In theory, if you’d seen one, you’d seen them all. Frankly, in the land of Fae, I was sure all the castles came from Cinderella or maybe Beauty and the Beast, or maybe even those old Hans Christian Andersen or Brothers Grimm fairytales. They were based on something and clearly, at least one of them was based on mad King Ludwig the II’s castle Neuschwanstein. He must’ve been mad for a reason. Neuschwanstein was his response, a crazy castle he built in Bavaria, bankrupting his monarchy and his entire country between his obsession with the swan knight and all the castles he’d built.

  Yeah, I thought I knew why he went crazy. Looking at this castle, I could bet he was here, and that explained why he didn’t sleep in the same place for very long. He was probably terrified that they’d come back for him.

  If I get out of here, I might never sleep again.

  “This is the power seat in Jacques’ domain. It’s called Swan house.”

  My mother had shown me pictures of Neuschwanstein when I was little. She told me to never visit a castle, and that princes were evil and mean. None of them would ever save you, but most of all never to fall in love with a prince.

  Swan house was a reflection of Neuschwanstein but with more towers. The extra towers were twisted with even more towers protruding from each other. They narrowed and widened without rhyme or reason. The scale was the real difference, and Swan house was four times the size.

  “Jacques is a Prince in the Unseelie court.” His eyes never left the window, vigilant to a fault.

  “As opposed to the Seelie court?” I was being a smart ass. Sarcasm was my go to.

  “Yes, you have been spending your time in Deston’s domain. Now you will see how life is elsewhere.” From a distance, the castle was fantastical and sweet. Something about Janice’s words rang true that behind this fantastical beautiful tranquil setting lay a deep, dark secret terror.

  “The Seelie are supposed to be the nice polite controlled proper ones? After murdering all those humans? Yeah, I see it. Absolutely. They’re one hundred percent tame.” The Unseelie were worse than the Seelie? Why, do they have entrails and heads on spikes?

  Janice turned his face away, ignoring my jabs.

  “Well, if Jacques is the one determining the test, what do you suppose he’ll use?”

  “He’s only had three hours to construct or contrive whatever your test will be. Something he’s already built and added to it. I have my suspicions, but until I see, I don’t wish to alarm you too much. I’ll give you as much information about it as I can.”

  Could I rely on this guy’s information? Was he my ally? He proclaimed that I needed allies. I couldn’t trust any of them. They were all Fae, intrinsically liars, manipulators, twisters, and murderers. Why would I listen to this guy?

  Could I answer that question for myself? Was he worth listening to? He was loyal to his cousin. Did he have my best interests at heart? The prize was the world itself or something like that, the very destiny of human humanity, and Fae. They were my handlers, so what did that make them? Something in my gut told me that if I didn’t watch what I was doing or how things worked out, I’d end up a puppet.

  Okay, chill out, Sarah. You’re jacking yourself up, and there’s no reason to get all freaked out. Until you know what you’re looking at, stop juicing yourself up.

  There weren’t any spiked heads on the wall. I didn’t see any bodies or entrails hanging anywhere, but the butterflies in my stomach and the clenching in my chest wouldn’t go away. Adrenaline seethed through my veins, and my legs kept fidgeting with my fingers drumming.

  I hadn’t even seen what the test was, and I was already pumped.

  “Sarah, you need to breathe and calm yourself. The adrenaline flowing through your body is good, but you don’t want to burn out too soon. You have no idea how long this test will take.”

  I looked from my hands to his hands and then to his face. He was a statue, cold. No matter what happ
ened to me, it didn’t matter to him. Or did it? My father’s words rang in the back of my mind: in the real world, failure could very well mean death. If you’re going to run the yellow light, you have to push the pedal all the way down. You must commit, and you must cross the intersection before the light turns red and traffic commences. If you falter, if you question your own resolve for even a split second, you won’t make it through the intersection fast enough. You will be broadsided and likely die.

  Whatever decision I made, I had to fully commit. I didn’t have a choice on whether I participate in this event, but I did have a choice about whether I lived or died.

  The fluttering in my belly slowed, and I pulled air in through my nose and pushed it out through my dry mouth.

  The carriage pulled under the gatehouse, only to be directed around the inner courtyard.

  “They’re sending us to the gardens.”

  The entrance to the gardens was the mouth of a grotto, the walls of which were lined with faces. Some were open and screaming, and others were closed with gleaming eyes and vicious smiles. Everyone had a ghoulish display of malice. It was a short tunnel, and after you passed through, it opened up into a giant garden area. It’d been set up more like an arena with seating all around the outer edges of a hedge.

  Janice began talking. “This entire garden is a maze, and it has been enchanted. The walls move about every five minutes, and there are all kinds of creatures roaming around. Many are vicious and deadly. There are too many to name them all, but that’s not the part you should be worried about. In the very center of the garden is a round cylinder. It rises up and down continually, turning as it goes. In the center is where your prize will be. Getting onto the disk requires a trick, and I’m sure the only person here who knows it will be whoever Jacques’ candidate is.”

  Note to self; watch out for Jacques’ candidate.

  “If you make it through the maze to the disk, don’t be misled. The disk is massive, and it has its own maze on it. The entire garden is a labyrinth, and there are pitfalls everywhere.”