Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1)

by Valerie Mars

  Each one of the guys bows their heads and my chest burns in annoyance. The only thing keeping me from losing my shit this entire journey was the promise of going home. But here I am, even further than I was three days ago, all because I happened to misstep in an alleyway. I thought they’d fight for me a little more. Well, two of them.

  I’ll speak for myself. “Have I no say in this, Speaker Celeste?”

  “It’s true, this is not an honorable way to treat a guest,” she replies with a pinched face. “But you do not visit during ordinary times, Miss Meadowbrook.” She leaves her seat and meets me at the edge of the dais. Her pale eyes gaze into mine, and at this distance I notice the baby’s-breath weaved throughout her white braid. “Did you happen to pass a clinic or hospital during your journey to the capital?”

  “Yes, Speaker. My fellow travelers remarked that they were inordinately busy, and the patients reeked of iron.”

  “Then you likely understand that this isn’t some seasonal illness we experience every year. These symptoms are typically only seen in fae with prolonged exposure to iron.”

  “Like the Techies?”

  “Exactly like the Techies, with Kaiser’s hand exemplifying mild toxicity,” she says wryly. “But the patients interviewed recall no such exposure, the source of their iron toxicity a mystery. We have serious cause to believe this an attack by the Techie factions.”

  “And so you’ll have me spy on immigrants who left the Techie towns?”

  “Don’t presume we don’t realize how filthy it sounds, child, but this is war. There’s been a substantial increase in Separatists reentering fae society the past year, the influx too rapid for us to properly vet everyone prior to the matching.” She gestures for me to come forward, taking both my hands in hers. “We wish you no harm, but you must earn your journey home. Our portal supply is dwindling, and may never be replenished if the matching is not complete.” She peers past me to Bash and Kai. “Give it a week’s time, and if the situation has grown treacherous, we may reexamine your tenure. However, if you do not spy in earnest during this week, we may find ourselves too preoccupied to see to your departure in a timely manner.”

  Okay, so I definitely have no say in this.

  There’s a sharp intake of breath behind me, but no protest otherwise. My own breath feels caught in my throat, the same way I know I’m trapped in this ruling.

  But there’s a faint softness in her statement that gives me hope.

  “In other words, try it out for a week and we’ll talk again?”

  “Let’s talk in a week,” she concludes.

  I can do anything for a week. Hell, I’ve been here this long already. It isn’t preferable, but the alternative of spending a week or longer alone in a tower is infinitely less appealing. With some luck, my days might shake out to 90% fun, 10% spy work. Framing it that way, this is practically a study abroad.

  Yeah, let’s frame it that way. No cloaks and daggers, just soaking up fae culture in exchange for a few secrets. Actually, the soaking part is concerning.

  “Speaker, I have one apprehension to address.”

  If I’m testing her patience, it isn’t apparent. “Yes?”

  “I keep hearing about how toxic iron and the human world is for fae, but what about the effect of Faerie on humans?”

  A few soft chuckles chime from the council. “It’s been centuries, but I think the only thing you’d be in danger of is developing pointed ears.” Clara would yowl in jealousy. “Similar to iron, the magic of our realm seeps in over time, but never to a level of toxicity, yes?” Celeste searches the council for backup.

  Lazarus Varigarde answers from his seat. “I vaguely recall a human male who remained long enough to extend his life an extra seventy years. He was rumored to light a candle or two by gift, but that’s the extent of my knowledge.”

  She turns back to me. “There you have it. Let’s move onto logistics.”

  Wait, so will pointed ears stick with me forever, or will they slowly fade upon homecoming? The thought makes my fingers itch to check my ears.

  “First things first,” the cotton candy blonde says on her way to the chamber floor. “Would you consider yourself a Summer or Spring?” I guess Winter and Autumn weren’t an option? I claw through my brain for the lesson about seasons from the stained glass incident.

  It’s true that a large part of me resembles Bash, but we differ greatly in our skin tone. While he’s deliciously tan from years of whatever he does, my only semblance of a tan is when my freckles conspire to take over my arms. Calling me Summer would be disingenuous.

  I can’t help but to twiddle my thumbs. “Maybe majority Spring with a Summer grandparent somewhere?”

  “I think you’ll have an excellent student on your hands, young Everhart,” she beams, tucking pink hair behind her ears. “These are Spring ears, and I think they’re going to look adorable on you.” They’re adorable on her, that’s for sure. Longer than Bash’s Summer ear but shorter than Ryland’s, the Spring ears appear similar to what I’ve seen on Kai: elongated and slender, but not overly commanding of attention.

  “If I’m going to have them for a while, they might as well be noticeable,” I say sticking my tongue out at Bash. Sorry, Summer.

  “They’ll suit you,” he replies with a wink. There’s our flirty Bash.

  “I’m going to cast a glamour on you. All it’ll do is change your appearance, but it’ll wear off if I don’t fix it to an object. You must have it on you at all times, so a piece of jewelry would work best.”

  I dig through my cloak pocket, but Kai lays a hand on my arm. “Not that one.”

  The Spring female shakes her head. “No, but you ought to bring it out now that it has our attention.”

  I side-glance at Kai out of habit alone, because he clearly has zero authority in this room. His lips mash into a straight line. “It carries special meaning to her, Councilors. Please see that it is returned.”

  I mean, I probably could have told them that, but thanks.

  “We would let her carry it now, were it not for the scent,” Celeste replies, her nose crinkling once I begin unraveling the layers of socks. When I’m down to the satchel alone, Kai’s father stands with a hand on his blade, ready to defend the room from me and my grandfather’s wedding ring at the drop of a hat.

  “Uh, are you guys cool with me removing it from the bag?”

  “Please!” Celeste says, back in her excited mode. “If you’ll just lay it on the table, dear.” The table. Up on the dais. Where all the scary fae are. No sweat.

  A few herbs caught with the necklace float to the floor as I pull it out. “Oops. Sorry.” I bend to pick them up, but Kai shoos me away. “Thanks,” I whisper before taking the stairs and arriving before Celeste in the center. I do my best The Price Is Right impression and show it to the council a few seconds before setting it on the table.

  “Kaiser, this is what caused your injury?” the raven-haired Winter female asks. “But it’s so tiny, what ever did you do?”

  He steps forward to speak. “I grabbed it from where it hung, Councilor Nyx.” Her eyes dart to my granny smiths as she fights a grin.

  “Something as pure as this meteorite wouldn’t take long,” the female with hair like ashes remarks.

  “And yet it felt like an eternity, I assure you,” comes Kai’s reply. It earns a few laughs.

  The Spring female charged with my new ears peers up from the necklace. “We can find you a ring and chain if this is what you prefer to wear.”

  “A simple band will do, actually. I don’t want to risk accidental removal if my life may depend on it.” I cannot begin to count the number of chains I’ve had snapped by a roaming toddler hand.

  “We will deliver a selection to your quarters for you to choose from, Miss Meadowbrook. Now, let’s get the first glamour in place.” She practically skips to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “Ready?”

  “Y-yes?” I brace myself for magic tingles or something.

&
nbsp; The pink lady giggles. “Just kidding, it’s already done. Touch them.”

  “Really?” She nods. Well, that defies expectations. I raise a hand to the tip of my ear and find it’s no longer the tip of my ear. I follow it an extra two inches before reaching the point. It feels exactly like Kai’s. Someone hands me a compact mirror, and my hands practically tremble as I bring my new ears into view.

  Holy schnikes, I wish my phone had juice right now. I’m still touching them and testing all the angles when the Spring female addresses me again.

  “I told you they’d be cute,” she says, bouncing on her heels, “but there’s one more thing we need to mask. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s your smell.”

  “No worries, Ryland’s already taken the honor of being first to offend me with that one,” I wave dismissively. A single snort rings from somewhere on the dais. “Is this the part where you have me guess what a mostly Spring but sort of Summer fae girl would smell like?”

  She cocks her head to the side, her pale pink eyebrows threaded together. “I was thinking you tell me some of your favorite scents and I can go from there.”

  Oh. “That sounds much easier, thank you.”

  Cardamom was always one of my favorite smells, but I can’t imagine wanting to continue smelling it after a tutoring session with Eversmart. No, I’ll need some relief. I’m a slut for grapefruit, but isn’t that more of a Winter thing? Meh, it can’t hurt to ask. “How about grapefruit? I’m not really a rose or patchouli sort of girl.”

  She considers it. “Citrus…if mixed with something containing floral undertones…could lean on Spring.” Her eyes widen as she raises a finger in clarity. “Bergamot! Could you do pomelo with bergamot?”

  If they had a lotion like that I’d probably eat it for dinner. “It sounds lovely.”

  “Yes!” she fist pumps. “Lend me your shoulders once more.” Not a second of perceivable time passes between the moment her hands hit my shoulders and the instant citrusy goodness assails my senses. “You should become more nose blind to it soon,” she assures.

  “Thank you for the delicious scent—I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  “Roslyn. Roslyn Underhill,” she says with a curtsy. Oh my gosh, they do curtsy here. “I hope it brightens your stay.”

  I’m way too self-conscious and bow-legged to attempt a curtsy right now, so I awkwardly dip my head and shoulders to her. “Thank you again, Roslyn.”

  “Next item of business,” Celeste directs, prompting the smoky-haired Autumn female to approach.

  “You may call me Ravenna.” She withdraws a key from her pocket. It’s the kind I’ve only seen in scary movies or the ancient house my parents rented by the beach one year. Is it old, or is this how fae make keys? “You will stay in the Separatist dwellings. The citadel’s housing arrangement reflects the quarterly subdivisions throughout the city. Spring will lie roughly northwest, Summer northeast, and so on.” She hands me the key, which feels cool in my palm despite being in hers for some time. “Mister Everhart will show you to your room.”

  Not the welcome wagon I would have chosen, but okay. I fight a yawn as she returns to her seat, desperately willing my mouth to stay closed, but it arrives anyway, tugging at the corners of my lips. Celeste is on it immediately.

  “I agree. This should be enough for tonight, Miss Meadowbrook. We’ll have a meal delivered to your room, where I would like you to rest until tomorrow.” She turns to Ryland. “Tomorrow evening is the opening ceremony, so her day must be spent establishing her story and learning the basics.”

  He curtly bows. “It will be done, Speaker.”

  “We’ll be looking forward to your first report. You are all dismissed.”

  Her words sound across the hall, carrying the finality of their decision onto my shoulders. I’m staying as a spy for at least a week. There are real fae ears fixed to my head now, and I smell delicious. But I’m entirely out of my depth. I let Kai gently lead me out as the nerves that have kept me solid throughout this ordeal begin to crumble.

  Tears threaten to spill as we enter the corridor, and one look at my face has Bash pulling me in for one of his famous hugs. I accept it without reservations, not knowing when I’ll receive comfort like this again. I let the tears cascade in silence, reflecting on everything that just happened. Somewhere in that train of thought it occurs to me that I’m never going to escape being called Meadowbrook. A snort escapes me.

  Bash separates us, his burnished brows narrowed over me in confusion. His perplexity is just the kick I needed to enter complete lunacy, his goofy face sending my snort into a series of shaking cackles. He pats me on the back almost as awkwardly as Kai, caught between offering comfort and wondering if I’m broken.

  I look up at him, wiping tears from my cheeks. “Do you still not know what my real last name is?”

  15

  Mallory

  He still didn’t know. Fae hearing, while superior, appears to be as selective as human hearing. When I told him, he said that Meadowbrook is a better surname, anyway. While I can agree, that wasn’t the point. The point, however, was never discussed, as Ryland began harrumphing about how I needed to get moving. So I said goodbye to Bash and Kai, who promised to never be too far away. It does little to make me feel safer about tonight, when I’ll be left to the wolves. But hey, at least I smell good. That’ll be great when someone with ice daggers for hands breaks into my room.

  Now I’m lagging behind Ryland as he leads me down a residential hallway on the third floor. The plush rugs running down the center of the white-washed flooring squish underneath my feet, the compression each step brings filling me with immense satisfaction. I don’t mean to lag, but it doesn’t help when every few feet there’s a new painting or flower arrangement to admire. We’re definitely in Spring territory, and I can’t wait to find out which room is mine.

  We reach the end of the hallway, and it makes sense that they’d put me on the end by myself. I skip up to Ryland, offering him a fist bump. “Corner room, babyyyy.”

  He glances down at my fist, leaving me hanging as he enters a stairwell located past the remaining rooms. “Seps live in the attic,” he says, pointing up the stairs.

  “Attic’s a funny way to say penthouse suite,” I dismiss, but I’m already reconsidering my naïve delight. I follow him up the winding stairs until we reach the last floor. Given its place in the building’s spire, it’s considerably less spacious up here, the walls narrowing into a ceiling that reaches toward the sky, but only at its most narrow point in the center. I can tell the rooms are going to be narrow with wonky ceilings like…an attic. “I guess separate isn’t just in name,” I mumble.

  “Many Separatists have met worse fates,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “What does your key say?”

  I pull it from my pocket, looking for a number. “All I see is a watermelon-colored crystal embedded in the handle.”

  “Spring. I should have known.” We look at the doors, which are singular shades of pastels arranged in a rainbow gradient around the floor. We’re in the teal zone, so my pink should be up ahead? Ryland spins back, striding behind me. I rush to keep up with his long legs.

  He stops in front of the door that matches my key, and all I can think is finally. It hasn’t been a lengthy walk, but after two days of horseback and seven minutes in hell with Ryland, it’s enough. We aren’t standing before a corner suite, but I’ll consider it a win being I share a wall with only one neighbor. My other wall borders a second staircase.

  He crosses his arms. “Let’s have a look.”

  “Why, so you can backhand compliment me on how rustic and cozy it is?”

  He rolls his entire head along with his eyes, his ponytail making the rounds with it. “So I can verify your safety, Miss Malum.”

  I’ve heard a lot of nicknames hurled my way over the years. Mel Brooks, Malley Cat, and my dad called me Malibu the year I bleached my hair and got a spray tan. The worst was being called Malfunction, but
who doesn’t have a traumatizing junior high nickname in their closet? Malum is a new one, and highly applicable given the unfortunate way I just responded to him.

  Now, I don’t feel guilty. He deserves every bit of fuss coming his way. But I do feel somewhat ashamed for allowing him to get under my skin like this—like I’m the child. If anyone knows how to handle kids, it should be me. On the other hand, I kind of have a lot going on right now and it’d really help if he could lose even a little of the stick lodged up his ass.

  And now we’re in Bash’s realm of thinking.

  I bite my lip as I guide the key into the door. “In that case,” I say, swinging the door open, “thank you.” He wordlessly squeezes past, brushing me in cardamom rain. I resist the temptation to savor it, looking into the room instead. The space widens as it advances from the doorway, the far wall almost entirely composed of windows. It extends from the sun-bleached floor to nine feet high, judging by Ryland’s length against it. Some evening sun trickles in, and I feel like I could roll out of this room in my sleep were I not careful.

  “Only every other room has a window, you know. They did you a favor with this one,” he says, crooking a long finger at me. I don’t know, man. It still feels like they’re just locking me in a tower. “They’ve also given you a room overlooking the castle.”

  I meet him by the window and gasp. They sure as shit did. Jutting from the ground to my right as the sun sets left of it, I can see a smattering of windows already lit on the western side of the picturesque castle. “I thought it was abandoned.”