Sebastian was carrying on some sort of conversation with the fox, though how she had no idea, because the fox made no sound that she could hear.
Apparently satisfied with the increasing distance between Lily and the fox, Sir Kipling retreated, appearing from around Sebastian and trotting past her toward the yellow light with fluffy tail held high like a flag. Somehow it was easier to focus on him than on the dim shape of her hotel room, which kept shifting closer and further away. So she did, keeping her eyes on the white tuft at the end of his tail which showed up strangely bright in the darkness, as if filled with an inner light as pure and white as snow.
The idea of a light bulb strapped to the end of her cat’s tail was sufficiently amusing to distract her, causing her to miss the next bit of Sebastian’s conversation. When she caught his words again, he sounded less angry, but not at all happy.
“Fine. I get it. But I’ll bring her, alright? Just give me a few hours to explain things and get ready. Then you can come get us.”
They were very close now. Lily could see the shapes of the bed, chair, and desk, and they only looked slightly faded. She tugged on Sebastian’s hand, urging him to go faster. She wanted to let go and rush into the room, but her friend’s earlier admonition stopped her. Even if she’d tried to let go, though, Sebastian’s grip was far too strong. He held on as if she were his lifeline in a raging sea.
“Yes, thank you for your understanding, melihi’araji. We’ll be ready.”
Sebastian’s voice sounded oddly deferential, but Lily spared it only a brief thought before focusing wholly on that bright room. A smile touched her lips, seeing Sir Kipling sitting on the bed, waiting for her. And suddenly they were there, standing between the desk and the bed as the twilight receded.
Lily didn’t have a chance to collapse onto the bed as she’d intended to because she was swept up into a bone-crushing hug by Sebastian instead.
“Are you insane?” he asked after pulling back. His voice was taut and he held her tightly by either shoulder as if he was still worried she would disappear. “You could have been lost forever.”
“Will you be needing me further, sir?” asked a very British voice behind her, and Lily almost jumped out of her skin. Looking over her shoulder she saw Hawkins standing in front of the door, looking perfectly at ease despite their sudden appearance out of nowhere.
“No, we’re good for now, Hawkins. Thank you. But I’ll need to speak to you before…well, we’re leaving again soon. Why don’t you go get settled in your room and come back in, say, an hour.”
“Very good, sir.” Hawkins bowed, turned, and left, closing the door softly behind him.
“Wha—what’s going on?” Lily asked, her body trying, and failing, to cope with everything that had just happened. Having failed, it decided the next best thing was to go into shock. Her knees suddenly felt very weak, and without warning, Sebastian’s hold was the only thing keeping her upright.
Startled by her attempt to collapse, Sebastian half caught, half lowered her onto the bed and helped her sit upright as he took a seat beside her. Sir Kipling crawled into her lap, seeming determined to put things right with a good, solid round of purring. While the medicinal properties of a cat’s purr were by no means scientifically proven, at the very least his warmth and comforting weight helped her body cope.
“What just happened?” she asked again, words coming a bit easier now that she was sitting down. Gravitating toward the closest solid object, she leaned against Sebastian’s shoulder, feeling dead tired.
“What just happened was that a queen of the fae attempted to lure you into her domain.”
“But why?” Lily asked sleepily. She knew this was important and tried her best to keep her eyes open. But she was so tired.
“I’m…not entirely sure. But for whatever reason, you’ve caught her interest. And what Thiriel wants, Thiriel gets.” He heaved a great sigh. “Like it or not, we’re taking a trip to the fae realm.”
Epilogue
Despite her best efforts, Lily’s body rebelled and demanded sleep. But she got only a scant hour before Sebastian shook her awake, telling her she needed to get up and get dressed.
While she put on plain street clothes and a warm jacket, she could hear Sebastian and Hawkins talking in quiet voices out in the hall. It sounded like Sebastian was reassuring the manservant, asking him to stay and look out for their return.
The realization of what they were about to do started to sink in, waking her up more effectively than any amount of shaking. She was frightened. Frightened of that twilight darkness with no clear paths, no way in or out. Was that the fae realm? All darkness and confusion? She hoped not.
More than the darkness, however, was the fear of the unknown. She already struggled to meet and interact with new humans. How would she handle otherworldly beings whose power she didn’t understand? What did Thiriel want with her? Sebastian wouldn’t lead them into danger if he thought Thiriel meant them harm, would he? What if she got lost or left behind, how would she ever find her way home? These thoughts swirled around in her head, paralyzing her with a fear she didn’t want but couldn’t overcome.
When Sebastian came back into the room, he found her sitting on the bed, knees drawn up under her chin and arms encircling them protectively. Sir Kipling rubbed and purred in concern, having no lap to jump into as he was used to.
At first Lily didn’t hear Sebastian’s words, lost as she was in her own internal struggle. But then the sounds filtered through.
“Hey, Lil, you okay? Lily? Lily!”
She jumped, then focused on him. Words tumbled out, seeming as jumbled as her thoughts. “I don’t think this is a good idea—I mean we can’t afford—there’s no time to be messing around—with the fae, that is—and I don’t think…I don’t know…” she slowed down, then stopped, finishing in a whisper. “I don’t think I’m strong enough.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sebastian said with a chuckle that may or may not have been forced. “You know how to take care of yourself. And anyway, I know these creatures. They follow…a higher order, I guess you could say. There are rules, and everyone follows them. As long as we act properly, we have nothing to worry about.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Lily gulped. “How will I know what’s proper? You know I’m terrible at social situations.”
Sebastian sighed and reached down to pry loose her death grip on her legs. Taking both of her hands in his, he pulled her gently from the bed and into a standing position. “Just stay close and do what I do, alright? I know this might sound weird, but I don’t think fae are…allowed to hurt humans. At least, not the way other humans hurt humans. Think of a wild animal. They want to stay as far away from you as they possibly can, and would only attack in self-defense. Well, or if they were hungry. But don’t worry, fae don’t eat humans.” He winked at her, and she let out something that was half laugh, half squeak of terror.
“What about cats?” Sir Kipling asked, very studiously not sounding worried.
“Did he just ask if they eat cats?” Sebastian said, looking at Lily with the slightest of grins. The feline’s I’m-not-worried-about-this-situation expression was fooling no one.
Lily nodded, not returning the smile.
“Relax, he’ll be fine…probably.”
Lily groaned. “Do we have to do this?”
Sebastian seemed to shiver, as if a draft had just come through the room. “Yes. It wouldn’t do any good to ignore the summons, she’d lure you in some way or another. We just have to use this to our advantage. I…don’t know what she wants, but maybe we can bargain for her help with our little ‘Mr. Fancypants’ problem. After all, Morgan was connected to the fae somehow, and you’re her descendant. Maybe they just want to talk to us.”
“Or stop us,” Lily said darkly.
“Oooor that,” Sebastian agreed in a falsely cheery tone, then fell silent. Lily could tell he was far from happy about the situation.
“What’s the m
atter?”
Sebastian didn’t answer at first. When he finally looked up, his eyes were haunted. “I promised myself I’d never go back.”
Lily shivered. “Was it that bad?”
He shook his head. “No, not in the way you’re thinking. Fae are creatures of nature, and nature is beautiful…but they aren’t human. They’re not even animals. They’re…the fae.” He was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “When I was there—before—I started to forget…who I was and what was important to me. I went there because I hated who I was, but then, slowly, I became someone I didn’t recognize.”
“That sounds thoroughly reassuring. But oughtn’t we be going? I believe our guide has arrived.” Sir Kipling’s meow cut off anything Lily might have said, and they both looked around. Where the hotel door should have been sat a silver fox, its fur shining brightly as everything around it dimmed into shadow. It huffed at them, blowing impatiently through its whiskers.
“You got everything you need, Lil?” Sebastian asked, not taking his eyes from the fox.
Grabbing her bag from the bed, Lily slung it across her body. “What about Kip? Do I need to carry him?”
“No. Thiriel is a high fae. If she promises safe passage, it’s safe passage we’ll get. All of us. Just be sure to stay close, alright, Kip?”
Sir Kipling mewed softly, ears perked and yellow eyes also fixed on the fox.
“If?” Lily asked quietly, trying not to sound nervous.
Sebastian didn’t respond, addressing the fox instead. “We’re ready. We agree to come of our own free will in exchange for safe passage to and from your realm at the time of our own choosing. Are we agreed?” His voice was clear and hard.
The fox yipped and, without waiting, turned and trotted off.
Instead of taking off after it, as Lily had expected, Sebastian turned to her. At her look of alarm he grinned, a touch of mischief in his eyes. “Don’t worry, he’ll come back. I just wanted to…explain a few things first. Because, well, I know I’m usually terrible at it.”
For a moment Lily forgot her worries and rolled her eyes, knowing he liked getting a reaction out of her. But far from being annoyed, she felt warm inside, knowing he was going to the trouble. For her.
“The twilight between realms is how the fae get around. I don’t know how it works but it’s definitely outside the normal laws of space and time. Because we’re not fae, we don’t have the right, um, senses to find our through it, which is why we have to have a guide. There’s only one rule: don’t stop. It’s like riding a bike: you have to keep moving or you’ll fall down. I don’t know where you fall to, but I’ve heard it’s not pleasant. Unlike a certain, conniving mold fae, this fox won’t leave us behind. But even if we’re going slowly, you can’t stop to rest, not even for a second, okay?”
Lily nodded, not feeling especially reassured.
“Oh, and don’t touch anything. Don’t pick any flowers, or leaves, or fruit. Don’t eat anything anyone offers you unless I say it’s okay. It may or may not be what it looks like. In fact, most things won’t be what they look like, though…” he paused, examining her thoughtfully, “I know you’ve been able to see through glamour in the past, probably because of the fae magic in your blood you inherited from Morgan. But I don’t know how effective it will be in the fae realm. Anyway, you got all that?”
“I—I think so.” She didn’t, but tried to stand up straight anyway and pretend she wasn’t afraid. She thought of Madam Barrington, who was counting on her to succeed; and Emmaline, who didn’t care about anyone’s opinion; and her mother, who loved her to pieces; and Sebastian, who thought her capable even when she felt small and weak. What she couldn’t be for herself, at least she could be for them. She could be strong.
“Let’s go,” Lily said, gripping her friend’s hand tightly.
He smiled. “That’s my girl.”
Interlude
Twilight’s Hour
Something given, something gained. That was the witch’s way.
Sometimes it worked out great. Other times it bit you in the butt. It was worth it, though, because you knew it was coming and could plan for it. Then there were the times when you thought you’d made off like a bandit, only to realize you’d been screwed over by the fine print. The fine print you hadn’t seen because, well, it wasn’t written down and, no matter how many questions you asked, you never knew how much you didn’t know until it was too late.
That was the fae in a nutshell. The high fae, at least. The low fae like Pip and Grimmold were simple creatures whose job it was to look after their designated plot of dirt and not cause trouble. Not too much trouble, anyway.
Sebastian.
The whisper in his mind hurt like an old wound: the memory of infliction more painful than any lingering discomfort.
The price of power, indeed.
He’d sworn—promised himself—he’d never go back. Not to her. He’d thought that if he laid low, didn’t draw attention to himself, she’d forget. Alright, so maybe it had been more of a wistful fancy. She’d given him her duality’s staff, for goodness sake. If that didn’t say something about her intentions, then not much did.
He’d been running for as long as he could remember. From his parents’ death, from his foolish mistakes, from his loneliness. But it looked like this particular problem had finally caught up with him.
Sebastian.
The saving grace of the situation was that she couldn’t read minds, though sometimes her uncanny insight made it seem like she could. It was hard to get one up on a being many thousands of years old. Especially since you couldn’t lie. Fae could spot lies like a vulture spotted road kill. It came from their being such good liars themselves. Well, not liars, exactly. Fae couldn’t speak falsehoods, which unfortunately made his truth coin worthless in the fae realm. But they were masters of the non-answer. Vagueness, avoidance, and the selective sharing of detail were their tools of the trade.
And Lily wondered why he was so bad at opening up.
Sebastian.
He gritted his teeth, refusing to remember. Instead, he gripped Lily’s hand more tightly as they ran through the twilight after the bobbing tail of a silver fox.
Lily didn’t know it, but between now and whenever they finally returned to reality, she would be the only thing keeping his sanity intact. And, most unfortunately, that would make the whole ordeal ten times worse, since he suspected Lily was not what Thiriel truly wanted. She was simply the bait, which meant he was being a complete fool, and should cut his losses while he could.
If this had been several years ago, he probably would have done just that. But not anymore. Like it or not, Lily Singer had changed him. He hadn’t known it then, but from the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, his loner days had been numbered. He still hadn’t admitted it, not out loud, at least. But the time had come for him to choose between being with her and being free. He hadn’t chosen freedom. The worst part was, he still might lose her. But at least this way, she’d be safe.
The air streaming past his cheeks changed, its cold bite dulling to a damp slap, then a warm caress. It was interesting the similarities between the twilight and outer space. Both were deathly cold and empty, surrounding you with the shadows of possibility while shimmering with pinpricks of light, possibly even life. But there, thankfully, the similarities ended. He was quite fond of not asphyxiating from lack of air, and the changing temperature was a useful guide, inasmuch as anything could be a guide in this treacherous nowhere. Based on the temperature, he knew they were close to arriving.
The idea did not fill him with joy.
He wanted to glance behind, to check on Lily and Kip. But his job was to lead them safely to the other side of nowhere, and so he had to keep his eyes on their guide, Thiriel’s messenger. The silver fox was a good choice, considering her range of options. Being the fae queen of decomposition and decay meant she had a wide selection of less-than-delightful choices. Now, granted, it wasn’t as disgusting as
it sounded. The English language—the whole human psyche, in fact—failed Thiriel when it came to describing her aspect, something that Sebastian had long lamented.
The fox slowed, his silver paws now pattering down on the shadows of grass instead of blank nothingness. Sebastian heard Lily’s sigh of relief, probably an indication she’d noticed the changing temperature herself. Perhaps she’d even looked up from her feet long enough to see the faint twinkle of stars that had almost coalesced into reality.
It happened in the space of a breath, that moment of eternity after you’d exhaled, but not yet taken your next lungful of air. In that infinite instant they transitioned, gasping in a relieved breath as they collapsed into the tall grass of an open meadow. Sebastian enjoyed the prickle and scratch of the blades against his skin as he stared up at the now-brilliantly visible canopy of stars above them.
“We made it,” Lily puffed between heaving gulps of air. The next gulp came out as a laugh. She seemed euphoric.
Sebastian knew it was just the air. Everything was purer, cleaner, more intense in the fae realm, untouched by humans and their greedy, often corrupting influence. You could get drunk off the air here until your body adjusted. That was fine with him. Lily could use the pick-me-up, and he wasn’t feeling too bad himself. Of course, it had been a while.
For a moment he tried to let it all go and just enjoy being back, enjoy the beauty, enjoy the purity. “Welcome to Melthalin,” he murmured to the open air, “sanctuary of the fae.”
Lily rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on an elbow, slinging her other arm across his chest as she grinned widely. She seemed to have gotten her breath back. “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered in awe, staring into his eyes.
Sebastian swallowed. She was very close. Too close. He wanted so badly to reach up and cup her face in his hand, to run his thumb over her smooth skin, to pull her in…
Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Legends Page 11