by Julie Kagawa
“Guess so.” Puck grinned, then pulled something out of his suit pocket: a wooden instrument with eight small tubes bound together in a row. His panpipes. I wasn’t surprised he had brought the instrument with him, even to a wedding.
“Remember,” I said as he brought the flute to his lips. “We need them to go to sleep, Puck, not dance or swoop around in a wild revel.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Puck replied. “Though, that might be just the thing to make this event even more special... I’m kidding, princeling. Don’t have an aneurysm.” After taking a deep breath, he pursed his lips and blew the first note into the pipes.
Music and Summer magic filled the air, rising in tandem to swirl around us. The notes were slow and bittersweet and brought to mind warm beds, the setting sun, and hibernating creatures. I could feel the song tugging at my eyelids, urging them to close, to relax and let myself fall. I bit my lip to stay awake, as all through the room the frantic cooing and fluttering of the doves calmed. The birds settled onto their perches, fluffing out their feathers and tucking their heads into their wings. In only a few seconds, the cooing ceased, the movement stilled, and the birds dropped into a deep, magical slumber.
Puck lowered his arm, and the mournful lullaby faded away. “Well,” he whispered, grinning as he looked around the room. “That was easy. Your turn, princeling.”
I faced the room of silent, sleeping birds and took a slow breath, drawing on my magic. It rose easily to my fingertips, cold and tingling, the glamour of the Unseelie side of my family.
“Ready?” I asked Puck softly.
He nodded, and I breathed out slowly, filling the air with Winter magic.
My breath swirled into the room, crystallizing into ice eddies that danced on the air, throwing off tiny glints of light. The temperature dropped sharply, and a thin sheet of ice formed over the desk and the tops of the filing cabinets. A few doves cooed nervously in their sleep, fluffing out their feathers and huddling down against the cold, but they didn’t wake up. Carefully, I dropped the temperature further, and ice began coating their feathers, creeping over their wings, and spreading up their backs.
“Brrr,” Puck remarked, though his voice remained quiet, as well. He stood with his hands in his armpits, his shoulders hunched against the cold, and his breath coiling in the air before him. “Man, I hate being cold. Not that I’m complaining, but maybe we could speed this up a little, prince? I have ice in places I’d rather not.”
“Almost there,” I murmured. My grandmother, Queen Mab, had taught me this technique for freezing living creatures in ice to preserve them for all time. I didn’t really like using this procedure; it felt rather...evil, but I couldn’t think of anything better.
With a final burst of cold, all the doves in the room iced over, becoming chunks of frozen crystal, with shells that preserved the being within. Slumping as the last of the Winter glamour left my body, I observed my handiwork with distaste.
“All right,” I said, turning my gaze from the frozen birds. “That’s done.”
“Great.” Puck nodded and pulled out a trio of plastic black bags with a grin. I had no idea where he had gotten them, but I wasn’t going to ask questions. “On to phase two.”
Ethan slipped into the room, wrinkling his nose at the mounds of frozen birds. “I talked to the preacher to delay the ceremony for a few minutes,” he said, “but we don’t have a lot of time. I don’t like keeping Kenzie in the dark, either, so we need to do this, now.”
“Well, start grabbing birdsicles, kid,” Puck said and tossed him a plastic bag. Ethan snatched the bag out of the air with a scowl and turned to the desk full of sleeping birds.
“Just once,” he muttered as we all started putting frozen, sleeping doves into the bags, working quickly before they started to thaw, “just once I would like to do something big in my life without the fey and faery magic screwing it up. I’m supposed to be standing at the altar now, marrying the girl of my dreams, and what am I doing instead? Trying to sneak a few hundred frozen doves out of the church before anyone notices, because I lost my mind for a fraction of a second and invited Robin Goodfellow to my wedding.”
I couldn’t help the small smile that crept across my face as I took the other side of the desk and began stuffing birds into the sack. “You’re the Iron Queen’s brother and the champion of the Nevernever,” I told him. “You’re probably the only human alive who has a relative in every single court of Faery. You’re marrying a girl who bargained with a faery queen to get the Sight and who has a gremlin for a pet. How did you ever think your wedding was going to be normal?”
He snorted, shaking his head, but a grin quirked one side of his mouth. “Yeah,” he sighed, giving me a wry look. “When you put it that way, I guess this is actually pretty tame compared to what could happen.”
“That’s right,” Puck chimed in, sweeping a whole group of birds into his bag with faint clinking sounds. “Be grateful, kid. There was one wedding I attended where the bride was kidnapped by centaurs and the groom turned into a jumping mouse.”
Not long afterward, we had three bags bulging with frozen doves. As we stood staring at them, Ethan rubbed his forehead.
“Okay,” he muttered, “so how are we going to sneak these birds out of here without anyone seeing us? There’s no back door; we’ll have to go through the main hall.”
“Leave that to me,” I said. “I’ll get them out, and no one will see a thing.”
“Oh, really?” said a voice behind us.
We spun. A beautiful figure stood in the doorway, watching us with a puzzled smile. Her white satin gown was simple but elegant, far less billowy than some I had seen, which suited her, I thought. Kenzie, even with her wealthy upbringing, had never been one for extravagance.
Ethan stiffened and turned away, hiding his face as the bride stepped into the room, her eyes drawn to the bags sitting between us. “Kenzie, what are you doing here?” he said, keeping his gaze on the opposite wall. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to see you before the ceremony.”
The future Mrs. Chase smiled and shook her head, eyeing us all with wary amusement. “Well, that would be true,” she said, “if this was a normal wedding. But Razor keeps saying strange things, like ‘frozen birdies’ and ‘funny red-haired elf magic,’ so I suspected something might be going on.”
“Razor is here?” I repeated in surprise.
She grinned. “Razor is very polite and well-behaved these days,” she told me. “And having a gremlin around is useful in so many ways. He can go just about anywhere, keep an eye on things, and let me know if there’s something I should worry about. Like if an infamous faery prankster is sneaking around the back rooms of the church on my wedding day.” She gave Puck a pointed glare. “I figured if Puck was involved, I’d better see what was happening before the pandemonium hits. Especially since I passed Grimalkin in the other room, and he said something like ‘If the humans are still unsure of what to do, tell them I could be persuaded to help, for a price.’ And then I swear he licked his chops. So what the heck is going on in here?”
“Nothing to worry about, really,” Puck put in. “Just a...minor miscalculation about how many white doves we needed to make an impression. We’ve got it taken care of.”
“Uh-huh.” Kenzie’s glare shifted to Ethan, though it wasn’t as severe as before. “And when were you going to tell me about this?” she asked. “Before or after the chaos started?”
Ethan groaned. “I’m sorry, Kenzie.” He looked resigned as he turned to face her. “I wanted this day to be perfect for you, without all the faery chaos. I thought if we cleaned up this mess quickly, before anything happened, the two of us could maybe have a normal wedding.”
Kenzie chuckled. “I have a gremlin in my dressing room,” she said. “King Oberon of the Seelie Court is sitting in the front pew of the church. Almost half the congregation is fey. If we wanted a
normal wedding, Ethan, we would’ve eloped.”
“Is that still an option?” he asked weakly.
She laughed. “We’ll get through this,” she said, glancing at me with a smile. “Keirran will make sure this day doesn’t explode into complete and utter pandemonium. Right, Keirran?”
“I’ll try my best.”
“See? Nothing to worry about.” She walked forward and placed her hands on Ethan’s shoulders, smoothing his collar. “It will be all right,” she told him. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. And then it’s off to Paris, where hopefully the fey population will be less inclined to bother us.”
Puck scoffed. “Don’t count on it,” he said. “Lutins are especially rude to tourists. Don’t let their cheeky little grins fool you.”
Ethan and Kenzie ignored him. “Yeah,” Ethan sighed, reaching up to grasp Kenzie’s hand. “One more day, and then we’ll finally be on our own.” His expression softened, eyes shining with love as he gazed down at her. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
She smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the mouth. “Save it for the honeymoon, tough guy. I’ll see you at the altar. Puck...” She turned a rather scary smile on the Great Prankster. “If my wedding day explodes or is canceled because of faery magic, I will personally have Grimalkin track down the meanest, nastiest witch in all the Nevernever to put twelve lifetimes of curses on you. So, if you don’t want donkey ears or a camel hump for the rest of the millennium, behave.”
Puck gave her a grimace of mock horror, followed by a smile. “Me? I’m on my best behavior, Your Highness.”
She rolled her eyes at him, gave Ethan a look of pure affection, then walked out of the room. Ethan watched her until the door swung shut behind her, then turned on us, his expression fierce. “All right, we need to get rid of these things, now.”
“I’m on it.” Raising my hands, I half closed my eyes, searching for a place where the Veil was thin. If I could find a spot, I could part the Veil, take the sacks into the Between, and exit somewhere else in the real world. Unfortunately, within the small confines of this room, I couldn’t find a place that was sufficiently thin to enter the Between.
“Hmm.” Lowering my arms, I started walking to the door, still probing the air around me.
Ethan’s gaze followed me, anxious and confused. “Keirran? Where are you going?”
“I can’t part the Veil here,” I told him, opening the door. “I have to find a place where the Veil is thin to enter the—”
I stopped. From the other side of the frame, a human stared at me, blinking in confusion. A small man with a white shirt and tie, eyes wide behind his glasses.
“What is going on here?” he asked, as Ethan slipped through and Puck quickly shut the door behind us. From the stacks of chairs along the wall, Grimalkin raised his head to watch us. “I just ran into the bride, who told me the ceremony might be delayed a bit longer,” the small man said, seemingly oblivious to the large gray cat in the room. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Reverend.” Ethan stepped forward quickly. “Nothing is wrong. We just...uh...”
“Had a small pest problem,” Puck said, making me wince. “Nothing to worry about. We’ve got it taken care of.”
“A pest problem?” The human’s face blanched a little. “You mean like a rat? Is there a rat in the church?” His eyes went to the door behind us, and he took a step forward. “Where is it? Is it still in the room?”
Puck smoothly stepped in front of him, his grin disarming. “We told you, Reverend, it’s been taken care of. There are no rats in that room. Scout’s honor.”
As he spoke, a flutter of glamour went through the air, centered on the human in front of us. Barely noticeable, but I still felt it: a small suggestion spell, to convince the minister that what Puck was saying was true, that there was nothing to worry about. I clenched a fist, remembering the time I had used such a spell, and the fallout that had come after. I’d told myself I would never again use magic to alter a human’s thoughts or feelings, even if as in this case it was for the greater good.
The man blinked, then frowned at Puck, not looking the least bit appeased. “What do you mean there are no rats in that room?” he snapped, as Puck’s brows rose in surprise. “You just told me we had a pest problem. I cannot have vermin running loose in my church! Please step aside. I need to inspect where it might have come from.”
“It’s dead,” I said quickly, making him pause. “We...um...already killed it. We just didn’t want to bring it out and upset the guests. It’s wrapped up in a garbage bag right now. When the ceremony is done, we can dispose of it.”
“I didn’t want Kenzie to see it,” Ethan added. “This is her special day, and I didn’t want anything to upset her. Don’t tell her about the rat, please? If she knew we had to kill something on her wedding day...”
He trailed off, but the minister smiled, giving him a sympathetic look. “Of course,” he said in a softer voice, smiling to show that he understood. “I won’t say anything about it. Just...please dispose of it as soon as you are able. I’ll see you out there in a few minutes.”
He patted Ethan on the shoulder, then left the room. When he was gone, Ethan slumped against the wall with a groan, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, that was close. What happened there, Puck?”
A feline snicker came from the chairs against the wall. “Did you forget you are in a church, Goodfellow?” the cait sith asked. “People of the faith are much more resistant to magic and glamour. You, of all people, should have remembered that.”
“Yeah, I should’ve.” Puck scratched the back of his head. “It’s just been so long since anyone has pointed a crucifix at me...” He paused at Ethan’s raised eyebrows. “Uh, that’s not important right now. Nice save there, kid. But we’d better take care of this quick, before anyone else gets curious.”
Ethan gave me an almost desperate look. I nodded and stretched out my arm, probing the air once more.
This time, I felt it. A sliver of weakness, a spot in reality where the Veil was thin. It was rather unstable, but I hoped it would suffice. Carefully, I pushed my fingers through that crack and felt the instant cold of the Between.
“All right, I found a spot,” I told the others. “Go get the birds. I don’t know how long this will stay.”
They immediately left the room and a few seconds later were back with the three bags. Condensation was starting to form outside the plastic and drip onto the floor, indicating that the birds were starting to thaw. I swept my arm to the side and opened a hole in reality, and the mist of the Between trickled into the room with us.
Puck’s brow furrowed as he and Ethan set the bags of doves in the Between. “So, just out of curiosity, what are you going to do with all those birdies?” he wondered. “Let them fly free in the Between?”
I shook my head. “No, that would be a death sentence. They would never survive out here.” And as bizarre as this day was turning out to be, I didn’t want to kill a bunch of innocent creatures if I didn’t have to. “I’ll go through the Between and find a spot to release them into the mortal realm. It shouldn’t take long.”
I just hoped I would be able to find my way back. The weak spots in the Veil didn’t stay that way for long. If I couldn’t find this exact spot again, I might miss the wedding.
I shook that thought away. Best thing was to get this done as quickly as possible. Stepping through the Veil, I nodded at the pair behind me. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” I told them. “But if I’m not back in time, don’t wait for me.”
“Pity,” Grimalkin remarked from the chair. “This day could have been so much more entertaining.”
Ethan scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but I dropped my hand, letting the Veil close and the curtain swoosh shut, cutting them from view.
Chapter 4
Well, this was
probably one of the stranger things I’d had to do in my life. I was glad the Between was empty, that there were no Forgotten around to see their king trudge past with three dripping wet bags over his shoulder. Like a younger, disappointing Santa Claus. At least I was alone. As soon as I found a suitable spot to release my burden in the mortal realm, I would be home free.
A warning chill went up my back, making me pause. I thought I was alone, anyway. Raising my head, I peered around, searching for shadows in the mist, listening for muffled footfalls or heavy breathing. I knew how to shield my emotions to avoid the manifestations the Between could produce, but every so often, a faery or some other creature would stumble through the Veil and become lost. When this happened, they often went mad from the years or centuries of wandering the endless expanse of the Between. I had encountered only one of these lost beings in the past, and it had immediately attacked me, all lucidness gone from its eyes. It was an experience I did not wish to repeat.
The mist coiled around me, silent and cold, dampening all sound. But I could feel eyes on me. Not curious or inquisitive; this was not a lost creature wondering what it had stumbled upon. Whatever was watching me did so with intention.
“I know you’re out there.” My voice echoed in the void, and a few tendrils of mist shivered into nothing. “I know you’re watching me. I am not your enemy, nor am I someone you want to fight. Leave this place. I want no trouble from the Between today.”
The shadows around me stayed silent. Nothing moved in the mist. But the feeling of being watched did not fade away. I waited a few seconds longer, then continued on. I didn’t have time to stand around and wait for an unknown entity to make up their mind. If they attacked me, I was confident I could handle it, but right now I had other problems to deal with. I could feel movement and hear faint coos and twitters from within the bags. Unless I wanted to release the birds here in the Between, which I wasn’t going to do, there wasn’t a lot of time left.
I walked a few paces more, then paused as I felt a ripple through the Veil, a spot where the curtain of reality was thin in the mortal realm. Reaching out my hand, I parted the Veil and peered through the crack, blinking as sunlight hit my face.