“She’s not broken. She’s just lonely. And that I can fix.”
Zach took a deep breath and gave Bryn a look that said, I’m glad Tammy Jo’s your problem now. Good luck with that.
Bryn put an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Let’s go into the park. Maybe she’s waiting for you there.”
18
FINDING A FAERY path is tricky, even for me, who’s part faery. I had Bryn draw off some of my witch magic to make me more fae. That was always a dicey proposition, though, because when I’m more fae, I don’t have as many feelings. I thought about what Kismet had said the night before. She’d said when I was drained of magic, she’d sent me part of herself. Was that why I lacked feelings? Because she had gotten so numb to them? Now that she wasn’t trying to connect with me, would I just be myself when drained? Or a shell of myself?
As we walked toward the entry to Killarney National Park’s Gap of Dunloe, I held tight to Bryn’s hand. He gave me the kiss I asked for and drew my magic into him.
I lost my breath for a second, but then eased against him. He was well again and tasted delicious: warm toffee with a hint of salted caramel.
Zach walked ahead and stopped next to a four-seat open carriage with a horse attached. When Bryn and I reached it, he’d made the arrangements for our passage.
The horse was initially skittish about Mercutio joining us, but settled down when Merc, who was pretty sleepy, ignored him.
A horse-drawn cart that takes people through the Gap is called a jarvey. I liked that name and it seemed to fit, being a jaunty little vehicle. Because it was cold, the driver, a deeply suntanned lady with a cute accent, put a smelly horse blanket over our legs.
I noticed Zach was still rubbing his arm. “What did Poppy do to you?” I whispered.
Zach smiled. “She got a couple good licks in. Managed to nearly twist the amulet off my neck. When that didn’t work, she blocked it with a pillow, and then she hit me with a spell hot enough to burn my skin,” he whispered back.
“Gotta be careful of strange witches.”
“Careful doesn’t always do much good. She’s a real firecracker,” he said with a smile that made me frown. Zach might not be mine anymore, but our breakup wasn’t ancient history either.
We moved along at a slow pace, which was helpful. It meant I could look for Kismet and also try to catch a glimpse of the entry to the Never.
“Where are your cameras?” the driver asked.
“Um, we’re just going to use our phones,” I said, giving Bryn’s foot a subtle kick.
“I’ve got a lot of pictures of the Gap from prior trips,” he told the lady, letting his accent come out strong. “I told her to just enjoy the view.”
The lady launched into a lot of questions for Bryn about where he was from, how long he’d lived in America, and what it was like. She was so friendly she would’ve fit right in in Duvall. I told her so, which made her laugh.
When we wound around a particular bend in the road, I spotted a shimmer and caught the scent of something familiar . . . honey, dandelions, and apples.
The tip of my nose was half-frozen from cold, so I was impressed I could still sniff out anything useful.
I leaned close to Bryn. “I think I found it. We should get out of the carriage here.”
Bryn paid the driver. We’d told her earlier that we would pay the full fare, but would be traveling only partway in the cart. We said we wanted to do some walking and hiking. We had backpacks with us, so we looked the part.
I wondered if she thought we were crazy. Both Zach and I were shivering almost uncontrollably. It was probably obvious that we would’ve preferred to stay huddled together under the moldy blanket.
Even though Bryn had lived for years in Texas, he was oblivious to the cold, and hopped down as if he’d just had a refreshing mojito.
We waved to the driver, who was all smiles after her big tip. She headed back toward the front of the park, where she’d probably have time to get another group of travelers and double her money for the day.
We waited until we were alone on the road and then I waved stiff fingers for the guys to follow me. The terrain was rocky, but covered with vegetation. I jumped over a stream that was burbling past. The weight of my pack nearly toppled me over, but Bryn’s hand steadied me.
Mercutio explored the nooks around the rocks, but stopped when I said, “Here.”
A small circular patch of grass tucked between a pair of big sharp slate-colored rocks shone a little brighter in the sunlight than the grass around it.
I slid down between the rocks and rested my boots on the center of the spot. Though it felt vaguely familiar, it didn’t open a path to anywhere.
I leaned against a rock so I could lift one leg to get to my foot. I hated to do it in the cold, but I pulled off my boot and my sock. I lowered my foot to the grass, which felt as soft as moss. A tingle started against the sole of my foot and spread up my leg.
“Yeah,” I said, exhaling an excited breath. I quickly pulled off my other boot and sock and stood in the circle. The smell of heather and honey wafted toward me. I crouched down and knelt like a runner about to spring from the blocks. I rested my palms on the grass, and the green ripened to a summer color. Soft light streamed like water, curving around rocks and over fallen trees.
Home, I thought. That’s the way it felt to be on the path.
Mercutio yowled, backing away, but Zach scooped him up. Merc twisted, snagging Zach’s jacket, but Zach held fast to him.
“C’mon, wildcat. You’re not gonna let her go alone, are ya?” Zach demanded.
Mercutio settled, but remained stiff, like a coiled spring. Zach swung his legs over and landed in the hollow between the rocks. He looked around.
“Feel the difference?” I asked.
“No.”
“This way.”
“You forgot your boots,” Zach said, grabbing them from their place next to one of the rocks.
“I don’t need them.”
“You damn well might. It’s colder than hell out here.”
For the first time all morning, I’d forgotten about the cold. The goose bumps on my arms were from exhilaration, not the winter’s bite.
“See?” Zach demanded as snow began to fall on either side of the path.
“Yeah, but do you see how it doesn’t blow onto the path?” I said, moving forward, weaving around the rocks and over bumpy ground.
“What are you talking about?” Zach asked, his breath still fogging the air when I looked over my shoulder.
Bryn stood behind him in the circle.
“Bryn, do you feel the difference?”
“I think so,” Bryn said, looking around. “It’s a little brighter and a little warmer in this spot.”
I nodded, smiling. “Exactly.”
Zach reached down and brought his hand up. His open palm was dusted with snow until it melted. “How is this spot warmer?” he demanded. “It’s snowy.”
Uh-oh. “I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get you inside. Maybe you’re not on the path,” I said.
“I’m standing right here,” Zach argued.
“Um, maybe so. Maybe not.”
He scowled.
“Let’s get going, Tamara. We don’t want to be seen,” Bryn said.
“Why not?” Zach asked.
“Because we don’t want hikers to think this is a path they should explore. What if they followed us? Or what if Poppy or some other Association witches are tracking us? The fae won’t appreciate our leading others to their gate. The paths are kept hidden for a reason.”
I turned and hurried onward. I crossed a stream, climbed over a rock, and dropped to the grass, feeling the path dip sharply. A warm breeze rose up to greet me, smelling of honeysuckle and baking bread. I raced down the slope. At the bottom there
were wildflowers as tall as me.
They swayed and parted.
“We’re almost there!” I called, then burst into laughter. I tripped and rolled through a patch of dandelions and daisies. Sprawled in front of a trellis of twisted vines, I stared up at an archway of roses.
I inched my foot into the opening. Petals rained down, shimmering pink, purple, and red. I rose and stepped inside. The scent of a thousand roses surrounded me, more petals falling like snow. Warm wind and beams of sunshine came through the lattice of the vines.
I skipped forward to the end, and there was a wall of trees as far as I could see in either direction. Their crossed branches blocked the center of the path, and there was a gold lock hanging from a branch.
“I’ll be damned,” Zach said.
I looked over my shoulder to find my three companions standing just behind me.
“Did you see the rose petals?” I asked.
“Kind of hard to miss them. It was like a rose storm. Couldn’t even see where I was going.” Zach rubbed his wrist, coming away with blood.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Got sliced by the business end of some long stems.”
“Thorns?” I said, surprised.
“All those swinging flowers. Not like we could avoid it.”
The flowers, of course, had not even swayed across my path. They knew me for fae, I thought with a ripple of pleasure.
“Easier to pass if you’re part fae, I guess,” Zach said. He looked past me at the trees. “How are we going to get through?”
“I have to open the lock.”
“What lock?” Zach asked.
The sun shone brightly as it reflected off the lock, making my eyes sting. How was it possible that he couldn’t see it? The longer I stood there, the harder it was to look at anything else.
The trees whispered, “Sing with me and find the key.”
“What do I sing?” I asked.
“What?” Zach asked.
“Don’t talk,” Bryn said.
“She asked a question.”
“She’s not talking to us. Be quiet so she can listen to the trees.”
“The trees,” Zach muttered, but then he closed his mouth.
“Sing with me. Find the key,” they said.
“Sing anything?” I asked. “Even a country song? From America?”
They didn’t answer.
“It’ll have to be that, I guess. Those are the songs I know.” I cleared my throat, closing my eyes before the light practically blinded me. “I’m not the best singer. Just so you know. But if you really want me to sing, okay.” I hummed an old song I hadn’t heard in years—“Wide Open Spaces” by the Dixie Chicks.
The trees hummed, too.
“Hey! How do Irish trees know the Dixie Chicks’ music?” I asked, and laughed. I started at the beginning, my voice rising as I sang, “She needs wide open spaces! Room to make a big mistake!” I twirled in circles, fresh air rushing around me.
When I finished the last chorus, I fell over laughing from so much spinning.
Music echoed in my ears, and when I opened my eyes at last, a pinkish-gold key dangled above my face. I plucked it from the branch that held it out to me.
“Thank you very much,” I said, touching my finger to the tip of the branch. “And thanks for the backup music.” I rolled onto my side and got up, clutching the key to me. I wobbled on unsteady legs to the lock. I squinted, humming “Cowboy Take Me Away.” I held the lock and pushed the key into it.
I sang softly as I turned the key. With a loud creak the branches swung up. Sunshine spilled out, drenching us in light and warmth.
“How ’bout that? It’s summertime!” I hopped forward like a rabbit. Then I threw my arms wide and spun in a circle. “Hello, faery world! Welcome home, Tammy Jo!” I sang some more, then fell over, giggling so hard my eyes watered.
“Hell,” Zach said, then laughed. “Haven’t seen her this drunk since she polished off most of a bottle of champagne the first New Year’s Eve we were married.”
“Kismet,” someone said. I barely heard the voice over the music ringing in my ears. “Kismet, what are you doing here?”
19
I SHIELDED MY eyes and turned my head toward the voice. He looked like a column of sunshine. He came slowly into focus.
Oh, my gosh!
His skin was lightly tanned to a tawny golden brown that was just the color my own turned. And his eyes . . . I’d gotten his eyes, both the shape and the color.
He cocked his head. “Your hair . . . this is the darkest red it’s ever turned.”
I stared at his face, which was really handsome and very young. He looked my own age.
“Your eyes are changed.” He pushed his hair back from his forehead as if to see me better. Then he tucked a longer strand behind his ear. That was familiar, too. It was a gesture I made a lot.
He lowered his voice, glancing around as if the trees might be listening. Maybe they were. “Are you my human daughter?”
I smiled. This is him. Caedrin!
He smiled back and put a hand out. He had long fingers. Kismet had gotten his hands. I had gotten human hands from Momma. His fingers brushed the hair back from my face. “I have wanted to meet you for such a long time. You got Marlee’s hair. Very dark red. If you stayed here for long, it would fade. Your fae sister’s hair darkens when she’s humanside for weeks. Where is she? I can’t believe she allowed you to come alone. Or at all.” He looked up and around.
“I had to come,” I said, sitting up.
“No, you didn’t. It’s fortunate I’m the one who found you. I’ve been monitoring the gate she likes to use. I hoped to talk with her. You’ll go back the way you came before you’re seen.”
“How can I go? Crux said if I didn’t come, they’d execute Momma.”
“Crux said that?” He scowled. “He overstepped. Badly.” He looked at Zach and Bryn, then back at me. “Where is Crux? Still pursuing Kismet?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. Maybe. We sort of trapped him to give ourselves a head start. She was going to come back. On her own terms. But she got angry.”
“As she often does.” The fingers of his outstretched hand moved, beckoning me. I set my hand in his, and he closed his around it. “You managed to trap Crux? Would that I had been there to see that,” he said with a smirk.
“Is Momma in trouble?”
His smile faded. “I know her mind well on certain subjects. And one is that she would not want you here under any circumstances.”
“But Crux said the queen expects me to come, or she’ll retaliate. He said you and Momma are in trouble for helping Kismet leave the Never, and that Ghislaine will hurt Momma.”
“He overstated things. The queen knows nothing of you, and I endeavor to keep it that way. Come,” he said, waving Bryn and Zach along with us as he led me toward the branches that had crisscrossed again to block the exit. “I won’t say I’m sorry you came, because I’ve wished to meet you for a long time. For the whole of your life, truth be told. But this is no place for you. Especially now.”
We stood in front of the wall of trees. He raised my hand and touched it to his jaw, then released it.
“I wish you wind at your back, and the speed of sunlight.”
I smiled. “It was really nice to meet you. And you’re sure you guys will be okay if I go? You and Momma?”
“If you stayed, it would provide no advantage to us. It would only create more risk.”
“What about Kismet? Do you need her to come back?”
He took a deep breath and then exhaled. “Don’t concern yourself. Live happily.”
“I won’t be able to be happy if I’m worried about you guys or her.”
“Wind at your back,” he said with a gesture to the branch gate.
I glanced at it. “We’ll go for now. Where’s the lock?” I asked.
He shoved a hand through his hair, tucking some of it back. “I can’t see the lock. Full fae won’t see it. We can’t get out easily because of the magic on the other side of the gate. But you should be able to see the latch, whatever it is. Sometimes it’s a lock and key. Sometimes it’s a bolt or lever. The look of the magical latch changes. But if you search for it, you’ll see it. You’ve the special skill because of your mixed blood.”
I turned and looked at the gate. “On the outside, I saw the lock to get in. But there’s no lock here.”
“Look carefully,” he said.
I walked along the branches, running my fingers over them. “Hey, there, trees. I’d like to leave. Need me to sing?”
The trees didn’t answer. I listened hard. With concentration I could hear the wildflowers sway in the breeze, and voices and laughter in the distance, and ringing bells.
I narrowed my eyes, following the patterns of the interwoven limbs. I shook my head. “There’s no latch.”
Caedrin put his palms on a tree trunk and whispered. He paused and then cocked his head. “Come with me now,” he said, turning and striding away from the trees. “She’s had them block Kismet’s exit after entry. Our lady Highness didn’t want Kis to be able to turn and bolt out. She’d assumed that Crux would be dragging her through the gate. The exit will reappear, but I don’t know when. Colis has silenced the trees so we can’t ask.”
We had to jog to keep up with him. He ducked into a field of sunflowers. We threaded through it. Music and voices became louder as we progressed.
“This way,” he said, cutting away from the sounds of celebration. “Wait—” Caedrin held out a hand and made a motion for us to crouch. Zach and I dropped down with Caedrin, but Bryn remained standing.
I grabbed his arm and pulled. He hesitated, and time slowed even though my heart raced. The sun gleamed off his hair. He seemed even taller and stronger than usual. And yet I felt the urge to protect him since we were underhill and he’d come because of me. Actually, if I were being honest, it went farther back than our arrival in the Never. He’d saved my life often enough, and I’d saved his. But of the two of us, I healed more quickly. And that knowledge, plus the fact that I loved him, made me want to get between him and danger.
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