by E.J. Stevens
“You mean this key grants me entry into FAERIE?” I asked.
I boggled at my friend’s suggestion. The pathways to Faerie had been sealed, hadn’t they?
“Yes, dear,” she said. “Apparently, your father was unsure of his eventual return and entrusted the key into safekeeping until you matured into your powers. With your father gone, you now rule the wisps and that key gives you access to his power base. You are now the proud owner of the wisp court.”
My father had left the key in my mother’s safekeeping in case he could not return. That told me two things; my father had not yet broken the demon curse and he now needed me to rule in his stead.
“Wait,” I said, shaking my head. “I thought the roads to Faerie were sealed.”
When I’d first come to Kaye with questions about my fae heritage, I’d wondered if a trip to Faerie might be necessary to get the answers that I needed. She’d frowned and declared Faerie closed to visitors, even those with fae blood like me. I’d been relieved that a trip to Faerie, a realm rumored to be filled with all manner of monsters, was impossible.
Now I had a way down the rabbit hole, whether I wanted to go or not.
“Yes, that’s partially true,” Kaye said. “When Mab, Oberon, and Titania abandoned their courts, they barred the pathways into Faerie. The king and queens of Faerie sealed the land against the invasion of outsiders then disappeared. Some say that they have gone on a quest for true power, while others claim they continue to rule from afar preferring a less direct role in events. But whether out searching or in hiding, Mab, Oberon, and Titania did not leave their borders undefended in their absence. They locked Faerie away from the other planes, but left gateways that could only be opened with a special key. These keys were given to select kings and queens who ruled beneath them.”
“And I have one of these keys,” I said.
“Indeed,” she said.
I had possession of a key to Faerie. No wonder Kaye’s eyes gleamed when she looked at it. I gripped the box and started to sweat beneath Kaye’s piercing gaze, but I couldn’t leave yet. I still needed information. Now that I knew what the key was for, a question gnawed at my brain like a starved zombie.
If the key led to Faerie, then where was the door?
“How do I use the key to enter Faerie?” I asked. “Do you know where the entrance is?”
“That, my dear, is a closely guarded secret,” she said. “I suggest you try your contacts in the fae community if you wish to discover the gate’s location in the mortal world.”
I sighed and sagged in the chair, letting my head hang down. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing was ever simple when it came to the fae.
“Okay thanks, I’ll ask around,” I said.
I wrapped the box in the plastic bag and tucked it into a zippered jacket pocket. I took a deep breath and pushed myself to my feet. It was time to probe my fae allies for information, and I knew right where to start. I strode toward the exit, books moving out of my path. Navigating the office was much easier with Kaye’s magic at hand. I turned to wave goodbye and the witch raised a tattooed hand.
“A word of advice?” she asked. “Use caution when making your inquiries. Divulging the location of the gates to the wrong person, such as a human friend and business partner, could be construed as treason, and the very existence of the keys is a closely guarded secret. If you manage to locate someone willing to talk, keep in mind that the key in your possession is extremely valuable. There are some, mortals and fae, unscrupulous enough to kill for access to Faerie.”
Great, just my luck. I’d have to keep the key secret from Jinx, or risk being labeled a traitor. That was just what I needed, another reason for the faerie courts to order my execution.
As if lying to my best friend wasn’t bad enough, I might get myself into hot water trying to learn the location of the door to Faerie. If I mentioned that I had my own key to the wrong person, I was as good as dead. There was nothing like carrying around an artifact that could fetch big bucks on the black market to encourage a knife in the back. I might as well paint my enemies a target.
My footsteps as I stomped out of the office were matched by the chiming of a clock. A chill ran up my spine; the sound reminded me of church bells tolling the dead.
Chapter 32
I was halfway up Joysen Hill when I realized I’d forgotten to ask Kaye about the name Inari. I scrubbed a gloved hand over my face and sighed. It looked like I had another question for Torn. I hoped the cat sidhe was holding court in the alley beside Club Nexus. I wasn’t in the mood for a scavenger hunt.
I spied a window display showing off a huge jar of honey at a local tea shop and pulled up short. I hadn’t yet thanked Marvin for saving my hide back at the cemetery and I owed the kid a bridgewarming gift.
I ducked inside the shop and haggled over the honey. The shop clerk had been surprised when I pointed to the massive jar on display, but when I flashed a handful of money I’d made on the recent missing persons case, she was happy to oblige. She even gift wrapped it for me.
The honey was heavy, but I found a renewed bounce in my step as I headed down the side street to Marvin’s new digs. This was one errand I didn’t dread. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see the kid’s face when he unwrapped the one-hundred and sixty ounce container.
I grinned and started my descent down the scree covered embankment in pursuit of my troll friend. I didn’t have far to search. Marvin stood beside his new home, washing clothes downstream from the bridge. I made plenty of noise as I scrambled down that last yard of loose stones. Marvin turned to me and smiled wide.
“Poison Ivy,” he said. Marvin hung the wet clothing over a rope he’d tied to the bridge and wiped his hands down the front of his pants. “You feeling better?”
“Yes, good as new,” I said. “I’m alive, thanks to you. I don’t know when you started following us, but your idea to throw an entire pixie nest at The Piper really saved the day. I owe you one.”
After leaving Marvin’s that night, I’d felt like someone had been watching us. I’d assumed it was a cat sidhe, or maybe one of the vamps, curious about why I smelled like the inside of a ghoul. Instead, our tail had been a teenaged troll with a killer throwing arm. He’d chucked the pixie grenade that downed The Piper long enough for me to disrupt the Dance Macabre and free the children.
“Aw, was nothing,” he said.
The kid blushed and crossed one leg behind the other. I wanted to reach out and give him a hug, but settled for pulling the gift out of the shopping bag.
“Here,” I said. “I promised you a proper housewarming gift the next time I stopped by.”
Marvin’s face lit up and he forgot all about his embarrassment. I watched him tear away wrapping paper with large hands. His smile grew when he saw what was inside.
“Thank you, Ivy,” he said.
I beamed back at Marvin, glad he liked the gift. As an orphaned bridge troll, I didn’t think the kid got many presents. I’d have to stop by again soon with some of his favorite candy.
“Just don’t eat it all in one sitting,” I said.
Marvin opened the jar and started scooping honey into his mouth with bare hands. Now that he didn’t have to worry about offending Hob’s sense of decorum and fanatic need for cleanliness, the kid could eat his honey in unrestrained sticky glee.
I missed seeing Marvin around the Emporium, but I was happy for him. He’d garnered the courage to leave the safe confines of Kaye’s shop and found a place to call his own. I swallowed against the growing lump in my throat and flashed Marvin a smile. The kid was growing up.
I said my goodbyes, telling Marvin I had an important visit with the cat sidhe Sir Torn, and promised to return soon. I would have liked to have spent the day hanging out with the kid, but I had to chat with my new allies.
As I climbed up the embankment, a scraggly cat sat watching from the street.
“Hear that?” I asked. “You can tell Sir Torn I’m on my way.”
“Ew, really?” I asked. “You think this is a good time for that? This is exactly why I will never have a cat. My unicorn would never do something so vile.”
The cat stopped and glared at me, then returned to its grooming. I looked directly at the creature with my second sight to see if it was a cat sidhe in disguise, but the cat was mundane. I shook my head and ambled on toward Club Nexus. I had a date with the Lord of Cats.
As I walked, I considered the upcoming meeting. I hoped I didn’t stumble on Sir Torn in flagrante. I didn’t think I could keep the smirk off my face if I caught the cat sidhe licking his furry bits.
I chuckled and sauntered up Joysen Hill.
Chapter 33
I strode down the empty street, hands loose at my sides. My throwing knives could easily be drawn with a flick of the wrist and I was armed with wooden stakes at my belt, a silver cross beneath my shirt, and a pocketful of iron shavings. The club looked quiet, but the place was a center of supernatural activity. Who knew what badass monsters lurked in the shadows? Better safe than dead.
I gave a curt nod to the ogre bouncer across the street working the club door. The bouncer shifted his weight and rolled his shoulders to show off bulging muscles and the guns strapped beneath his suit jacket. The ogre was ready to rumble if anyone on the street was foolish enough to pick a fight—good to know.
I stayed upwind of the ogre’s stench and crossed the street at the corner. I flashed a tentative smile at the cat sidhe kits milling about the sidewalk. The narrow alleyway where I’d previously met with Torn was right where I remembered it.
That probably shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. I half expected the entrance to the cat sidhe’s alley to be limited to access through the club only. I let out a slow breath and flexed my hands. It was time to see if the faerie lord was in residence.
I stepped into the alley and halted as a large, furry tank of a cat hissed and blocked my path. I wondered idly if I should have brought some Fancy Feast or cans of tuna. I was now allied with the cat sidhe, but I had no idea what the usual customs for visiting a cat sidhe lord entailed. Another question I should have asked Kaye before leaving the Emporium.
My rescue came in the form of a man dressed in leathers decorated with fur, bones, and feathers. Sir Torn leapt down from a fire escape with a flourish. Shadows swirled around the man as he bowed mockingly, a half smile on his lips.
“And to what do I owe the honor, princess?” he asked.
“First, I’d like to thank you and your court for coming to our aid in the battle against The Piper and Melusine,” I said.
“And the rats,” he said.
“Yes, of course, and the rats,” I said.
I had a nagging suspicion that the opportunity to slaughter a horde of rats had tipped the scales in my favor. I doubted the cat sidhe would come to my aid if I faced, say, a barguest or a rabid loup garou.
“We are now allies,” he said spreading his hands. “You will find that cat sidhe make excellent bed fellows.”
Torn quirked his lips and looked like the cat that ate the canary. He leaned close and purred.
“If you’d like to continue satisfying your bed fellows, I suggest you take a step back,” I said. “I don’t like sharing my personal space. It’s a thing.”
Torn’s eyes widened as he looked down to see one of my blades perilously close to his, as Jinx would say, man parts. He raised his hands and took a step back.
“You can’t blame a fellow for trying, Princess,” he said. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained and all that. So why are you here, alone, if not for the pleasure of my singular company?”
“My reason for coming is a confidential matter,” I said. “Is there somewhere we can speak in private?”
Torn gestured for me to step forward. I held my breath and moved closer to the cat sidhe. Torn reached into a dark crevice between two bricks and pulled a shadow around us like an inky, black cloak. I could see nothing inside the shadow, but I could feel Torn’s presence. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.
“Everything is hush-hush now, princess,” he said. “You know my cat sidhe can be trusted, so why the clandestine cloak-and-dagger business? I’m guessing this shall be interesting.”
In fact, I didn’t trust any of the cat sidhe, but that was beside the point. This conversation was between me and Torn. What I had to say could not breach these walls, or shadows, or whatever.
“Our ears only?” I asked.
I winced and hoped the cat sidhe couldn’t see me in the dark. Torn only had one tattered ear, the other was no more than a cratered lump of scar tissue. I’d have to refrain from mentioning ears if I wanted to stay on the cat lord’s good side.
“Yes, princess,” he said. “It’s just you and me.”
I felt the cat sidhe’s breath on my neck and gripped my knives.
“Touch me Torn and, allies or not, I’ll carve your good ear to match,” I said.
Oops. So much for not drawing attention to his disfigurements. I had a real knack for pissing people off. Jinx said it was my secret superpower, like I needed anymore of those.
“Symmetry may not be such a punishment,” he said. “Tyger, tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night, what immortal hand or eye, could frame thy fearful symmetry?”
I snorted. Faeries and their damned love of poetry, it was like a disease. I was pretty sure that William Blake’s tiger hadn’t been a cat sidhe, but you never know. Torn’s been around long enough. At least he wasn’t quoting Shakespeare. Most fae are obsessed with The Bard.
“I don’t have time for games, Torn,” I said. “I need information.”
“Yummy, I like it when you play rough, Princess,” he said, purring.
“Did I mention that my blades are tipped with iron?” I said.
“Fine,” he said. With a rattle of bones and a heavy sigh, Torn took a step away. “What knowledge do you seek?”
I focused on the direction of his voice and took a breath.
“I need to find a door to Faerie,” I said.
“Oh, shit, is that all?” he asked, voice dripping sarcasm. “Why don’t you ask for Fionn mac Cumhaill’s bag of lost treasure while you’re at it?”
“So you can’t find out?” I asked.
“I didn’t say that, princess,” he said. Torn struck a match and lit a torch he’d pulled from thin air. We were still inside the privacy shadow he’d wrapped around us. The torch flickered making light dance across the cat sidhe’s scarred face. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To Mag Mell, of course,” he said.
Torn grinned and sprinted away. I chased after the flickering torch, swearing under my breath. Mab’s bloody freaking bones. I was trapped in a shadow, playing cat and mouse games with a cat sidhe.
Too bad I was the mouse.
Chapter 34
Sir Torn ripped a hole in the fabric of reality and leapt into the light beyond. I shielded my eyes against the sun and stumbled out onto a grassy plain. My ears popped as the shadow we’d traveled through snapped shut behind me.
I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the clear, bright day. The sun blazed from a deep cerulean sky, not a cloud marring its perfection. A breeze rustled the leaves of an orchard to my left and golden light sparkled on the surface of a placid lake to my right. I sucked in a breath at the fantastical landscape.
A white stag, with antlers streaming moss and flowering vines, drank from the lake. A cardinal perched on the stag’s back, the bird a brilliant red to match the fields of flowering poppies that went on for miles in every direction.
I’ve a feeling we’re not in Harborsmouth anymore. Maybe if I clicked my heels, I’d find a way home. On second thought, I didn’t think messing with magic was a good idea in t
his place. With my luck, a tornado would deposit a house on my head.
Torn leaned against a tree and rubbed a shiny, red apple against the shirt beneath his leather vest.
“Want an apple, Princess?” he asked. “The food here is free for the taking. No one wants for food or drink in Mag Mell.”
Mag Mell. The name sent shivers up my spine. I was on one of the mythical planes of the Celtic Otherworld. Elysium, Valhalla, these planes all existed somewhere, but the Celtic Otherworlds of Emain Ablach, Hy Brasil, Roca Barraidh, Tír na nÓg, Ynys Afallon, and Mag Mell were the ones most entwined with Faerie.
Was the door to Faerie here on the verdant plains of Mag Mell?
“W-w-what are we doing here?” I asked.
“Ah, I didn’t think you were one for philosophy, princess,” Torn said. “I prefer Aristotelianism, but, then again, I used to dine with the man. His wife Pythias could prepare a mean feast.”
I sighed, jaw aching from grinding my teeth.
“I wasn’t asking about the meaning of life,” I said. I clenched my fists and glared at the cat sidhe. “I mean, why are we here in Mag Mell? Is the door here?”
I had wanted information about the door to Faerie, not a day trip to the Otherworld. I rubbed the place where my throwing knives were sheathed beneath my jacket. I felt woefully unprepared. What horrors lurked within the rustling poppy fields or below the still surface of the lake? Mag Mell appeared to be a land of peace and tranquility, but looks can be deceiving.
“We are here to see Béchuille, a seer,” he said. “Mag Mell has long been a source of wisdom to heroes who seek knowledge.” Torn spun in a circle and pointed away from the stag, placing the lake at his back. “Come, we go this way.”
I dug in my heels and crossed my arms.
“Not until you tell me what I want to know,” I said. I fixed Torn with a deadpan look then let the darkness from my nightmares leak out around the edges. I’d seen enough of death and torment to last a lifetime and, when I let it, it showed. “Who is this seer and what do I have to give up in bargain for her aid?”