Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1)

by Valerie Mars

“I haven’t seen it used in years, but they needed overflow housing for the matching,” he replies.

  “I guess this really is one of the better rooms, huh?” I imagine a layer of dust over the entire castle, like the forbidden wing of the Beast’s castle, just waiting to be explored.

  He looks around the narrow room, peeking his head behind the flimsy screen dividing the rest of the room from my toilet and bathtub. A single silver eyebrow rises in doubt. “You better bring that plucky outlook with you tomorrow.”

  Ahhhh, tomorrow. How easily I’ve forgotten about my study session with Satan. “Where am I to bring it to?”

  “I’ll find you,” he says.

  “Keeping me on my feet, I see.”

  “A spy should never relax.”

  As if I could.

  Ryland left without too much additional banter. It helped that both parties were ready for him to leave. The first thing I did was draw a bath and brush off the grime from the road. I watched the sunset while soaking, which spins a wonderfully relaxing image to my otherwise dreadful day. The cleansing products provided in the suite are rose-scented, but my pomelo-bergamot is already winning dominance as my hair dries.

  Dinner was roasted chicken with broccoli and some type of grain I’ve never seen. I’m somewhat disappointed to report that the broccoli was of average size, but I’m still holding out for pumpkins large enough to travel in. I’m refilling the wine glass from dinner with water from my open floor concept bathroom when there’s a knock at the door.

  Maybe someone’s come back to retrieve the dishes? “Just a moment!” I plead before shotgunning the glass of water. Not all of it makes my mouth, some dribbling elegantly down the front of my sweater instead. Ignoring it, I wipe my mouth before slowly cracking open the door.

  Rather than the fae who delivered dinner, it’s the crimson-haired Summer female from the council, eyeballing my sweater. “Oh.” I stare at her like a deer in headlights before flinging the door wide open. “I wasn’t expecting it’d be one of you. Did you want to come in?”

  “Beats standing out there,” she says with a wide smile. I step to the side and allow her through. She surveys the room, lips disappearing into her mouth as she tries to come up with something nice to say. “That’s a beautiful view,” she baits.

  I take it, wishing to avoid expressing my discontent. “Where I’m from, people pay their entire week’s salary just to sleep across from a fake castle at a theme park.”

  Her lip pressing turns sheepish. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what that is, but I can assure you this one is real.”

  “Do you think I’ll have a chance to enter during the week I’m here?”

  She ignores the part where I say I’ll only be here a week. I cling to that. “Oberon willing, you will! There’s no way I could stand for all the events taking place in this drab backdrop. Can you imagine?” She imitates a couple at one such event. “The white walls sparkle so brightly tonight, my dear,” her eyelashes bat. “Second to only the white ceilings above, my pearl,” a cracking man voice replies.

  I giggle. Is her unpretentious nature a her thing, or is that just Summer?

  “Oh! Speaking of couples,” she says, gaze dropping to the box she brought in. “Let’s put a ring on you.”

  “Is that a fae tradition, too? Marriage with rings?” Kai’s hand is the only one I’ve given any serious attention to.

  “Living as long as we do, it’s more of a courtesy than it is a contract,” she says, throwing back the lid. Woah. That’s a lot of rings. She catches me gawking. “I know it isn’t much, but if you find something else you’d like to wear, I’m sure Roslyn would be willing t—”

  “No, no, no.” I punctuate each denial by criss-crossing my hands back and forth. “I stare because it’s a lot to me. I’ll probably need your help choosing, in fact.”

  “I’m Skye, by the way. Do you prefer Mallory?”

  “It’s gotten me this far.” Motto. Of. The. Day.

  “Alright. So, they’re arranged by size, the smallest rings starting on the left. Did you decide which finger you’ll be using?”

  Truthfully, I didn’t think that far. “No clue. Do you mind if I just see what calls to me?”

  “Help yourself,” she says, handing me the box. “I’m interested to see which rings charm a mortal.”

  “Glad to be here for your entertainment, Skye.” We sit on the couch, Skye with her elbows propped on her knees as she leans in to watch my perusal.

  There’s a lot going on in this box, and all of them are beautiful things. Most of the pinkie rings are delicate bands, some featuring tiny flowers or leaf detailing. A beautiful lavender jade band calls out to me, but anything with potential to inflate Ryland’s ego is off the table. It’s an unassuming ring cast from resin that ultimately catches my eye. Suspended within its clear frame are dozens of pale pink flowers and what appear to be gold flakes. It reminds me of the forest floor in our suite at The Knotty Willow, and I instantly fall in love.

  “I’ve decided,” I announce. “Do you want to close your eyes and I’ll put it on? We can do a grand reveal.” My voice sounds dry, but Skye’s reaction is genuine as she buries her face into her lap, crimson hair falling around her.

  A thumb emerges from the flames. “Ready!”

  I rotate the box a few times to mess with her fae hearing, then try the ring on my left index finger. It’s loose, so I swap it to my ring finger. Perfect.

  “I’m good to go, but do you think wearing it on my ring finger will be an issue?”

  She shakes her head while taking my hand into both of hers. “Not at all. Fae mark their mates by the middle finger, which honors the balance and harmony of partnership. I’m not sure why mortals choose the fourth finger.”

  I guess it does look more equal that way. “I don’t know why we stick it on that finger, either, but the difference in this case is convenient.”

  “It looks gorgeous with your skin tone,” she says before releasing my hand. “I’ll get it to Roslyn tonight and it’ll be passed to young Everhart tomorrow morning, I presume.”

  Yeah, I’m definitely glad I didn’t go with the lavender jade. Imagining Ryland’s smirk alone is enough to irk me. I place the ring back in the box, my mind drifting to the other Summer fae I’ve come to know. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

  She holds the box to her chest, resting her weight against the wall. Mischief breaks over her features. “All yours, doll.”

  “You’re a Summer fae, right?” I’ll take Rhetorical Questions for 1000, Alex.

  “Both lines, reaching farther back than anyone can remember.”

  “Are you familiar with the Ankerstrands of the Ember Isles, then?”

  Both brows raise; I have her interest. “Very. What has Bash done now?”

  I can’t fight the grin. “Actually, I was more wondering about his brother. People around town seem to hold him in very high esteem, but I don’t know why. What’s the deal with August Ankerstrand?”

  “It was an incident that occurred when they were very young. Popular pass times in the Ember Isles include fishing and diving. Growing up, the two brothers were insatiable in these pursuits. Once they felt they had lived every experience the Isles offered, they began traveling to other destinations. The one that changed everything was Dewfall Lake, on the border of the Winter and Spring territories.”

  I nod to let her know I’m still listening.

  “Dewfall isn’t a lake for novices,” she says, crossing one leg in front of the other. “I don’t know what the boys told you, but our seasons and weather are determined by a combination of the realm’s natural cycles and the amount of fae concentrated in one space.”

  “They thought I’d be gone already, so I’ve been told very little.”

  She sets the box of rings onto a side table. “Let’s start with the capital city. Did you experience different climates on your way to the citadel?”

  “We entered Winter, then swapped over to Autum
n once I complained.”

  “Alright, so you’re familiar with the quarters. If every fae left the city tonight, by morning all quarters would experience the same season. In the same vein, if a horde of Summer fae spent the night in Winter Quarter, it’d feel more like Spring come morning. Most fae prefer the comfort of their natural climate, however, so like seeks like. But with the population of the city center being so diverse, the climate balances into the realm’s natural season, most times.”

  “I noticed it returned to a general fall vibe, yeah.”

  “And while that is the case in general, if you were to climb the Summer tower right now you’d find that it’s somewhat warmer than your current housing.”

  “That’s crazy. I imagine border regions have a tendency for volatile weather, then?”

  “That’s where I was leading. The pull of Spring and Winter fosters rare species within Dewfall Lake, which attracts many fishing enthusiasts. However, the same seasonality making it so popular also contributes to its danger.” Her face gains a few shadows. “On this sunny day, the lake was still thought to be frozen. August and Sebastian decided to split up and see who could catch the most fish by sundown. Unknown to them, a group of Spring children had also gathered to try their hand at ice fishing.”

  My heart sinks a little, because it’s clear where this story leads. “Sounds like there were a lot of warmer fae out on the ice that day.”

  She nods, tucking a piece of her long bangs behind an ear. “It was August who heard the first screams. Four of the children had fallen through the ice, and three more became trapped after attempting to rescue them. The cries he heard were from the youngest two, left alone and afraid on fragile ice. August’s gift is strength, and that day it saved those children’s lives. Once he was under the ice, he located each child and used a gift-assisted push to propel them to the opening. By then, Sebastian had arrived and began helping them from the edge and providing warmth.”

  “Why isn’t Bash lauded in the same light, then?”

  “That part of the story isn’t mine to tell, but I will say that for some time he was. They both were. While August handled the attention well, Bash didn’t.”

  “Are you telling me happy-go-lucky Bash has a deep, dark history?”

  “Sometimes smiles make the best armor,” she replies with a grim smile of her own.

  “Well, I appreciate you explaining this. The climate stuff is one less thing I’ll have to learn from Eversmart,” I say with a pumping of my fist. Skye’s mouth gapes into an o, eyes widening. Oh shit. That nickname isn’t something I’m supposed to slip in the company of a council member. I’m probably about to find out what her power is in a really visceral way.

  Instead, she smirks. “I can see your journey provided ample time to learn of young Everhart.” Now it’s me who’s slack-jawed, her sly reply sending me into emotional whiplash. She straightens and reaches for the door. “I’m hoping he can learn something from you, too,” she says while winking.

  Summer fae and their winks.

  16

  Mallory

  Cinderella-style humming rouses me from sleep. From the sounds of it, mice are shining my neighbor’s shoes right now. I don’t know if I’ll play a convincing Spring fae if singing through your morning rituals is what’s expected. Morning Mallory is more of an Everhart Autumn type, grumbling her way through a coffee while disapprovingly shaking her head at the world’s antics. This fairytale creature singing thing? That’s Miss Mali after her second cup of coffee in the drop-off zone as she wrangles fussy children from parents.

  The humming continues as I ready myself for breakfast. Roslyn’s glamour is still going strong, which I’m made strongly aware of upon painfully scraping the hair brush across my new ears. Receiving the nerve endings but none of the specialized hearing is absolute horse shit, if you ask me.

  I throw on my cloak and take a final glance in the mirror, but I may as well have thrown a rug around my frame for all the dust and horse hair coating the garment. The rest of my riding outfit isn’t much better. I dust off the sweater as best I can and set the cloak aside. Hopefully the glamour is strong enough to overpower all the sweat and anxiety clinging to my clothes from yesterday.

  I’m sure Ryland will let me know if it isn’t.

  I grab the doorknob, but fail to exit my room. Where am I going? Ryland said he’d find me, but I don’t even know where to find breakfast. Is this an honest mistake, or is this faehole expecting me to start up my spy game already? I mean, I’ll do it for coffee and food, but my heart’s already skipping beats over the thought of taking a wrong turn.

  Hopefully Cinderella next door hasn’t eaten yet. I crouch near the seam in my door, wishing my fake ears had real fae hearing. Thankfully, my human senses are adequate enough to recognize when she opens her door, so I rise and do the same.

  I stumble into the hallway, temporarily blinded by straightening from the squat too quickly. Note to drink more water, Mallory. When my vision clears, a girl with several shades of green in her hair examines me with a pinched face. Her distressed pink sweater dress hangs low around her shoulders, revealing muscle tone that betrays the delicate outlines of her collarbones.

  Her pale, sea-foam green eyes rake over me, widening with recognition. “You’re fresh from home, aren’t you?” She plays with a thin braid near her temples, nose wrinkling as she undoubtedly takes in the scent of my dirty clothes.

  “Got in last night,” I say, extending my hand. “Mallory Meadowbrook. Nice to meet you.”

  The tendons in her forearms flex as she grips my hand. I don’t want to be on the wrong side of that. “My name is Ferra, like Farrah Fawcett. My parents were obsessed with the seventies. Yours?”

  Oh, wow. That’s probably young for a fae. I only know the name Farrah Fawcett because it’s on the poster my grandfather kept hidden behind a cupboard door in the garage. When I was younger, I assumed my grandmother didn’t know, but I realized later on that posters can’t destroy a good marriage.

  But I have no idea how to reply to her question because I have no idea what it means to be a Techie. What if I say my hypothetical Techie family likes dishwashers, but fae have magic based dishwashers that are even better than human ones? She’d sniff me out faster than my students find candy.

  Thank whoever the fae worship that Kai’s banishment is still fresh in my memory. The cover story flows effortlessly. “Books. They can’t get enough of mortal books. I got lost in piles of them on multiple occasions as an infant, actually.”

  No! Why did I finish with actually? It cheapens everything! I may as well have told her everything I say requires a Himalayan salt lamp-sized grain of salt. Everyone knows liars bookend their statements with really or actually. Thirty seconds into being a spy and I’m already toast. The annoyance of Ryland’s imagined smirk prickles me yet again.

  Her lips quirk. “We had a few homes like that, too.” Okay, maybe I’m freaking out too early in the game by allowing the council’s suspicions to cloud my judgment. This powerful looking female has the potential to be dangerous, but that doesn’t mean she is dangerous. If this is truly a place that operates with an elected government, can their people be so mercurial?

  I chuckle as if I totally know what she’s talking about and for sure wasn’t raised in a different realm, then get on with the original purpose of this encounter. “Would you mind showing me where to find breakfast?”

  “Oh my stars, they really did just drop you off here, didn’t they?” I nod as her eyes roam over my appearance, causing my stomach to twist. “Mallory, I don’t mean to offend, for I came with very little myself…but did you literally come with only the clothes on your back?”

  “You should see my cloak,” I reply with warm cheeks. “But I think that’ll all be taken care of today!” My voice squeaks with overly bright enthusiasm. I may make a spy, but I’m no actress.

  “While that’s wonderful…would you like to borrow something for the time being? These citadel types can
be kind of stuffy. I’d regret seeing you off on the wrong foot.”

  Mallory Brooks of the mortal realm would have waved her off and politely refused. She’d have spent the rest of her day feeling uncomfortable and sloppy, but she’d have avoided owing a favor, which is far more unpleasant a feeling than being dirty for a day. Inter-realm Super Spy Mallory Meadowbrook, however, knows that favors can blossom into powerful friendships, and with friendships come connections and intel. Or so she assumes.

  Super Spy Mal would also just like to change out of these grungy clothes. And maybe she will get to see inside a Separatist’s room, which may earn her the title of Super Spy mere moments after proclaiming herself such.

  Super Spy Mallory is super screwed, isn’t she?

  “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” I wince, “that would probably make my day.”

  “Absolutely not!” she turns, beckoning to me from over her shoulder. “We’re a tight-knit community over here—we stick together. Most of us come from nothing. If anything, I’m simply repaying the kindness I received my first while.”

  “I’ll have to do the same, then. Thank you so much for the hospitality.” They really did hook me up with a good room. It’s early yet, but I don’t think I could ask for a better neighbor. We enter her living space, which I presume is the same as mine but cannot determine given its lack of windows and therefore light.

  “Grabbing a lamp,” she says while heading in. I hold the door open so some light can filter in. She gets a few lanterns going, but they leave a lot to be desired. “You’ll get used to it,” she says, opening her wardrobe.

  I guess it was new for her at some point, too. “Leaving…was it worth it?”

  She thumbs through her hangers, voice muffled from within the wardrobe. “I can’t speak enough for what it’s done for my physical and mental health. The darkness that lifted when I detoxed and found my gift…I’d light a hundred lamps a day in exchange for that,” she says, removing a dress and smoothing it over. “You don’t look very ill, so that shouldn’t take as long for you, lucky duck.” She offers me a dress. “I think this one will suit you.”