“I’d hate to see a boy get on the wrong side of you two. A true force of nature, you girls are.”
I bet she never thought about pitting us against each other.
Truth is, far as that goes, Maggie would win for sure. Not because I’m not capable of taking her down in a fight. I just don’t have it in my heart to.
I sigh. “Let’s hear it, then.” This better be good, I mentally add.
“You can sit back down, I won’t bite,” Derek attempts a friendly smile.
I glare at him.
“OK. Look, it was never supposed to go that far. I got held up by some of the guards, but had I made it on time . . . you never would have gotten hurt. I swear. And I am so, so sorry that you had to go through all of that.” He swallows. “To both of you.”
Maggie offers him a kind smile.
“How exactly was it ‘supposed to go’?” I ask, ignoring that my best friend is a possible enemy now.
“You were to be questioned and I was to help you escape. But apparently only you could piss off the Queen that badly.”
“Well it wasn’t intentional!” I shoot back. “She wanted me to turn in her own sister for something she didn’t do! What was I supposed to do?”
“You could have lied. Gave her what she wanted. Did that ever cross your mind?”
“No.” I growl. “That’s insane. Why would I condemn someone who I know is innocent?”
“That doesn’t matter! We can take care of our own. One little lie wouldn’t have done anything except save you from the fury of that woman.”
“What is that supposed to mean, ‘we take care of our own’? In case it has escaped your notice, you aren’t a Faery.”
“I’m as good as one,” his voice drops to a low cadence.
I peer at him questioningly.
“Care to elaborate?” I ask, a little calmer than before.
“You don’t know much about me, do you?” he asks with a sad smile.
I give a shake of my head, baffled. How could I know anything about this strange boy?
I’d only met him a couple days ago.
“This is my home.”
8. Nyla’s Magic Touch “Your . . . your home?” I blink.
“In the sense of biological family, no. But this is the only place I’ve ever really belonged.” Again that sad, sad smile played across his lips.
“But surely your parents. . .”
“They don’t mind, trust me.” He looks wistfully at Nyla. “Besides, she’s more than any human family I could ask for. We’re outcasts, her and I”
“Outcasts?”
“Never mind that now. Kate, I need you to trust that I never wanted to hurt you. Can you accept that?”
I scrutinize him for a long time. Something clicks into place that I’d overlooked moments ago. “You . . . you saved me. First by getting me out of the Tree and then with the antidote. Why?”
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he repeats.
I meet his brown eyes with my own green ones. Remorse shines at me from his.
If he’d wanted me dead, I realize, I would be already. I don’t doubt that for a second. So maybe, just maybe, I’ll listen to him. I don’t trust him. Not yet. He’s hurt me and Maggie—albeit unintentionally—and it will take a lot to make up for it. But today is a start, in the least.
I lean against the back of the couch for support. “OK.”
His brown eyes widen to the size of saucers. “Really?”
“Yes. I realize . . . that if you want me dead, I would be. But this doesn’t mean I trust you. Not yet.”
“I understand.”
And he does. The smile playing up his lips shows me that he wasn’t expecting me to cave so easily. But there’s worry in his eyes, and in the way his brow is knit together in an almost single line. Worry over what? What happened? Me? What lay ahead? I don’t know for sure and am too unsettled to ask him such personal questions about what he may or may not be feeling.
I decide to change the subject. “So you live here?”
“Yes. Nine years now.”
“What’s with all of the formalities then?”
“What?” he asks, seemingly caught off guard. “Oh you mean what Nyla calls me? Usually when its business matters, we use surnames. With what I do . . . it’s just easier.”
That doesn’t seem to make any sense to me but I brush it aside. “What exactly do you do?” I ask.
Derek fidgets uncomfortably for a split second, like a bug caught under a magnifying glass. “I can’t really tell you. Not all of it.”
“What can you tell me?”
“Katie. . .”
“Don’t call me that. No one calls me that,” I snap even though it isn’t completely true. The only people who ever call me Katie is Maggie and sometimes Parker and my mom. “Derek, tell me. Something, anything. Please,” I try again. I’ve never felt so lost in my life. I have no idea what is happening to me. No clue what any of it means.
He sags in defeat. “Look, there are . . . certain things that I can’t tell you, but what I can,
I . . . I promise I’ll be as truthful as I can be.
“What I do, it’s a dangerous dance between life and death. If Chrysantha were to find out that I’ve been in league with Ceara all this time, a double agent so-to-speak, she wouldn’t be pleased.” He scoffs. “No that’s downplaying it. In fact, I’m sure she’d be extremely livid with me. So let’s not let her find out any time soon, capeche?” He meets my gaze with eyes beseeching my trust, that I won’t turn him in. I give a grim nod, he continues, “Chrysantha heard about you two from her guard. She knew you would be key to once and for all eradicate any believers that the Zions existed. If she could get you to say that Miruna acted alone, that she was responsible for her own demise, her subjects would remain submissive. For them to find out that their Queen was hiding something of this magnitude from them, she’ll have a full uprising on her hands. The Faery Court would divide it’s allegiances, which is saying something since it’s already divided as it is.”
“What do you mean it’s already divided?” I cut him off.
“There are four courts. Seelie, Unseelie, Summer, and Winter. The Winter and Unseelie courts you’ll want to steer clear of. They make what Chrysantha did to you look like child’s play. More so the Unseelie Court, though. The Winter Court has its good days. Well, correction, good moments. Unpredictable as a winter storm the whole lot of them.”
My mind wheels. Surely they couldn’t be worse than what I’ve already been through.
“Can I continue?”
“Go on,” I mumble.
“When she realized this, I was sent to collect you. Who better than a mortal boy to gather up two mortal girls and bring them to her? Send a Faery and you would be suspicious since you have the Sight to an extent. Already, I knew what she had in mind. It’s not hard to guess her intentions. When someone lives for centuries they become predictable. So I formulated a plan. I would go through with it to her eyes. Then, when she was done questioning you I would sneak into your quarters and free you.
“I only meant for her to question you. She has a more macabre way of getting through to people. If it hadn’t been for Lucas stopping me I would have made it in time. I cannot stress how sorry I am about that.”
He pauses to catch his breath for a second. A thought occurs to me then.
“Why weren’t you poisoned?” I direct at Maggie for the first time in a while. She looks taken aback at the question but quickly recomposes herself.
“Well I would have been. But I, unlike you, did not trust the Faery food.”
“I didn’t either. Not completely.” I grimace. “Never again,” I vow.
This earns small, mirthless smiles from everyone in the room. I decide then that it wouldn’t kill me to sit down on the sofa. Strangely I’m still drained even though I’ve been sleeping for what seems like forever. Must be the after effects of the poison. Maggie punches me playfully on the shoulder.
�
�Why would you eat it, dork?”
“I was hungry,” I shrug as if it’s the simplest explanation in the world.
Maggie gives a derisive snort, “of course you were.”
“What?” I ask, staring at her.
“Oh, nothing,” she says evasively.
I decide to ignore the quip. Everyone seems to relax after that. Nyla bustles off through one of the wooden doors. From the sliver of what I see it appears to be a kitchen. Derek sits down on the far side of the couch since Maggie deliberately plops herself in the spot next to me. The put out expression on Derek’s face is absolutely comical. As the saying goes, losers weepers. A few minutes pass and Nyla returns carrying a tray laden with a silver teapot and four mix matched china cups. The one she hands me, full with steaming brown liquid, has tiny blue roses painted around its rim. I blow on it and take a sip, scalding my tongue anyways. It has a strong taste of mint and lemons, and a hint of apple. A good combination, I think. I warm my always freezing hands on the smooth outside of it, waiting for the contents to cool off more. Even in the middle of summer my hands always have a sort of chill to them. Maggie always jokes that I have “The Frosty Touch.” Like Frosty the Snowman. Ha-ha. Hilarious, Mags.
I give a start when I glance at the cup in Maggie’s hands. There’s an image of a fluffy pink cat painted on hers and I swear it just moved. Its miniscule mouth gaped open in a soundless meow, tail twitching to and fro. But when I look again, it’s still. What the? I stare at it for good measure. Maybe it’ll do it again, I think.
“Katie, you’re biting your nails again.”
“Hm? Oh.” I drop my hand, not realizing that I’d even removed it from my own cup. Maggie has this quirk for yelling at me whenever I do that. I’ve tried kicking the habit, but it always happens no matter what I do. Any manicurist would hate me.
“Why are you staring at me?”
“No reason.” I’m surer and surer that it was my imagination with each passing moment that the pink fuzz ball refuses to move. Huh.
To my dismay, Derek is smiling at me with much amusement.
I raise my eyebrows at him.
“You saw it move didn’t you?”
“The cat? Yeah.”
“The cat?” Maggie asks, confused. Catching a sight of her cup she lifts it to eye level and scrutinizes the picture. “Why would it move? It’s paint,” she feels the need to point out.
“Nyla likes using her magic on day to day items . . . no matter how pointless. It’s pretty entertaining seeing people’s reactions. Especially yours.” He winks at me.
Ugh. Why do boys have to be so weird?
“Uh. . . If you don’t mind my asking, when do we get to go home?” I ask, ready to be rid of this place and be back in my comfort zone. Back to where there is a drop of sanity left in the world, if there is any that is.
Derek looks crestfallen and gives a low sigh. “Oh alright. But why the hurry? I hope it isn’t because of magnificent ol’ me,” he waggles an eyebrow.
“I think you need to check your ego at the door, Der, because there is no way that fat ego of yours is going to fit in the Jeep. I don’t care how spacious it is. But, yes. Part of it, anyways.”
“Humph. You are no fun, Katie-Pie.”
“Ugh, get me out of here before I gag. I’ve had enough,” Maggie stands and moves towards the door that must lead to the outside world.
“Aww, don’t be like that.” Derek chuckles, following her. “Are you coming?” he directs at me since I haven’t moved yet. I’m too busy shuddering over the “Katie-Pie” comment. Seriously? What was up with this dude? Does he flirt with everyone, or something?
Players must play, and all. . . Derek was definitely in the game.
9. Home
We go back to Maggie’s place first. It seems as if very little time has passed. It was night when we left the tree and it was still pitch black outside before the curtains to the glass ceiling were drawn; now stars dot the sky but there is a smudge of red on the eastern horizon. Early morning. Very early morning to be exact. The dash in Derek’s Jeep reads just after 5 a.m.
As we ride I wonder if anyone has noticed our absence. Surely Parker has since we were supposed to have a sleep over there last night. What about his windows? Did he call the cops? Report us missing? Or has he not come back from wherever he went when Maggie kicked him out of his own, for lack of a better word, house? I hope it’s the latter of those or else we’re toast. Burnt, severely overdone, throw me in the waste basket, tossed out to the birds for mid-morning snack, toast.
Granted that’s a little melodramatic . . . but still. How exactly are we going to explain that Faeries broke in and kidnapped us? I’m sure we would be committed immediately. So that option is out of the question. But what are we supposed to say in lieu of the truth? No one would believe the truth. So, we would have to lie. I hate lying.
“Hey, Derek?” I ask as he’s putting the car in park in front of the apartment complex.
“Hmm?” he turns in his seat towards me.
“What are we going to say to Parker? We can’t very well tell him the truth.”
He looks confused. “Who’s Parker?”
“My brother, you idiot!” Maggie leans forward between the two front seats, intersecting us. I can’t see her face but I know by her rigid posture that she’s glaring at him.
“Sheesh, calm down,” Derek cringes, pulling at his shirt collar. “You need an alibi—”
“Oh, so we’re criminals now?” Maggie cuts in.
“Maggie, hush!” I tell her. She falls back to the back seat with a groan. “Will you come with us? Explain our disappearance? Because I’ve got nothing and I’m a horrible liar.”
“I doubt you’ll need me,” he sighs. “But if you’d like me to, then I will.”
“Thanks.” I open my door.
Maggie hurries ahead of us while Derek keeps pace with me. Does he know nothing of personal boundaries?
I sigh. “Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”
“Ouch. That stings,” he holds a hand over his heart in mock horror.
“Oh, shut up.”
“I mean after all I’ve done for you, what I’m doing for you,” he gestures to the apartment building, “you’d think thanks would be in order. But nooo. No gratitude whatsoever.”
I stop. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“And?” he prompts.
“And thank you.”
He smiles at me, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling.
“But let’s not make a habit of you saving my life,” I add. “Deal?”
“Sure thing.”
“Come on, we’d better catch up with Maggie before she glares a hole in your forehead.”
“Wait,” he catches me with a hand. “Did you really mean what you said before? About you being a horrible liar?”
“Yes,” I say slowly.
“You’re going to have to change that.”
“Why?”
He’s silent for a second. “Because . . . with Faeries if you want to save your neck you need to be a good liar. Especially if you want them to believe you’re innocent of something you did.”
“Oh and I suppose you know all about that,” I scowl.
“I do. And it’s saved your life along with others.” His eyes are sad. “You can’t be a greenhorn in this world. It’ll get people hurt. Or worse.”
“And you know that how?” I ask, hands on hips.
Anger paints his face. “You don’t know anything,” he glowers and stalks off after Maggie who’s already gone inside, leaving me alone to ponder what he meant by the “or worse.”
I wait a few beats and then I follow him.
When I reach Maggie’s apartment, I gape in wonder.
The far wall whose windows had been shattered, spreading bits of glass on the tan carpeting, were now no longer in pieces. Flat, smooth glass filled the gaps, not a scratch on them.
“What in the world? Am I imagining things or are those wi
ndows magically repaired? Because I know what I saw. They were definitely broken. Why is no one answering me?”
Maggie is slumped on the sofa, head in her hands. But I swear she’s smiling.
“Maggie?”
She lets out an unhinged giggle. “It’s just so perfect.” She looks up at me. “Of course. Faery magic. Explains everything doesn’t it?” Her blue eyes are shining.
“Is she OK?” I ask Derek who’s leaning against a wall, arms crossed. The anger still hasn’t left his face.
He shrugs. “No, but she is right.”
“Hey, don’t you two start talking as if I’m not here!” she protests, standing up and striding over to me. “But I’m right? God, this is all so crazy. Listen to me. Faery magic. I’m crazy.”
“Um, Mags, I think you need to lie down.”
“Why would I need to lie down, Kate? I’m fine. You’re the one who nearly died, not me.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” I mumble. As if I’m not already beating myself up for my own stupidity.
“God, where is Parker? I want to get this over with. Parker!!” she calls to the otherwise empty house.
“Maggie!” I hiss. “What are we supposed to say to him?”
“You won’t have to say anything to him. He’s human. His mind will come up with its own explanation if some Faery hasn’t already fiddled with it.”
“What do you mean if some Faery hasn’t already fiddled with it?! They’d better stay away from my brother! Or I’ll—I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Kill them? It’s for his own protection, Maggie. Be glad that’s all they want with him.” Derek unhitches himself from the wall. “Besides, I’d like to see you try to kill a Faery.”
“It would be short work with something iron,” Maggie sneers at him.
Derek opens his mouth to say something back but is cut short by the sound of Parker’s bedroom door opening. He shuffles out, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What’s going on? Maggie, Kate? Are you alright? What’s with all the ruckus?” His blond hair is tousled, sticking up in all directions. “You!” he spots Derek. “What are you still doing here? Get out of my house!” He turns on us. “What is he doing here? I thought he left hours ago. Girls!”
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