by Jocelyn Fox
“What if it isn’t a raiding party?” I said softly to myself, mostly just for the comfort of hearing my own voice out loud. “What if this….what if this is it?” What if this was the beginning of the great battle that would decide the fate of Faeortalam? I felt suddenly and completely vulnerable as I thought of Ramel’s words. He was right, I realized. I only had been training with him for a little while, compared to the years of practice expected of a Sidhe squire; and even though we’d practiced for hours every day, I could only fend off his full-speed attack for a few desperate moments at most…and that was on a good day. I knew the basics of archery from high school gym class, and Liam had taken me shooting a few times, but gym class had been shooting at styrofoam targets with plastic bows and arrows. I was fairly certain that a Fae battle would be much, much more serious and deadly than neon-fletched arrows and bright bull’s-eyes on feather-light targets. I had only ever ridden once, at a county fair with someone else holding the horse’s bridle, and though I thought I could probably pick it up fast, I had no idea of the temperament of the Fae mounts.
I sat back in my chair and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and pushing down the panic bubbling in my stomach, threatening to overflow and froth up into my chest. I had killed the garrelnost, and I had kept that knowledge from Queen Mab. The panic receded a little. I took another deep breath and found another brick to build up my wall of defense against the feeling of vulnerability. My daily sword sessions with Ramel had made me sore at first, but now I was in even better physical condition than I had been when I was playing field hockey, with a new strength in my arms and back from wielding a blade. My stomach tightened a bit but the feeling of utter helplessness ebbed a bit. And then I thought of the greatest strength I possessed, the counterpoint to the Sidhe’s greatest weakness: I was immune to iron. With that, the panic faded, and although I still felt uneasy at the idea of being thrown into an epic battle for the fate of Faeortalam, I realized I didn’t have much choice in the matter. The workings of Faeortalam were far larger than me, and there was little I could do now that I was bound here by Queen Mab. I figured I might as well try to retain some of my dignity—or what little of it I possessed in this strange world to begin with—instead of being dragged into the fight kicking and screaming.
I shifted in my desk-chair and bent over the map, lighting the lamp after a moment of studying the parchment in the gathering gloom. How appropriate, I thought, that the rescue party would depart just as dusk was falling. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a quick little flash of glow, near the corner of my bed. I stood up hastily, almost knocking over my chair, my hand going instinctively to my sword-hilt. My heart jumped into my throat and then began racing like a horse out of the gate, galloping against the tender spot below my jaw.
“Tess!” said a small, familiar voice.
I heard my breath leave my lungs in what sounded very like a sigh of relief. “Wisp.”
Wisp flew out from beneath the bed and hovered in front of my face. “My people are excellent at concealment,” he said with a note of pride in his tenor voice.
Apparently that was the cue to abandon said concealment, because seven other glows came whizzing excitedly out from various hiding places throughout my room: three came from under the bed, one wriggled out from a desk drawer, two had hid in my wardrobe and the last had found a hollow space behind one of the paintings on the wall.
“Well,” I said finally, after the glows had all formed a little group behind Wisp, “I suppose you’d better all introduce yourselves.”
“Yes, yes,” Wisp said, “that is a very good idea, Tess-mortal.” He checked himself. “I apologize….in my excitement I sometimes forget that my affectionate name for you is redundant.” He said the word redundant in three syllables: re-dun-dant. I tried to suppress a smile, unsuccessfully.
I turned around my desk-chair to face the room and sat down, arranging my sword to the side and folding my hands in my lap.
Wisp cleared his throat grandly. He bowed. “First, my Lady Lumina, one of the three princesses of the Glasidhe.”
“Thank you, Lady Tess, for taking us in,” said Lumina in a lovely serene voice. Her glow was so bright that I could barely make out the outline of her body, but I was sure she was quite beautiful.
“I am honored by your presence, Princess Lumina,” I said, inclining my head to her.
“And this is Galax,” Wisp continued, introducing a male glow, a giant among the Small Folk. Galax was nearly two heads taller than Princess Lumina, and about twice her size in general. “He is a protector of our royal family.”
Galax nodded to me gravely. I nodded back, managing to keep a serious expression. He wore a sword in a scabbard across his back, and I imagined that it would take him two hands to wield the blade.
“And these two are Forin and Farin,” said Wisp. The two standing next to Galax bowed simultaneously. One was male, one female—I assumed the male was Forin, and the female Farin. They were twins, and both wore their hair in sort of long bob, so only by careful inspection could I distinguish Farin from her slender twin brother. They, too, were armed to the teeth with miniature weapons. Farin favored the bow while her brother wore a bandolier of daggers.
“This is Flora, one of the Princess Lumina’s ladies,” said Wisp, gesturing to the glow hovering to one side of Lumina.
I saw through her glow that Flora wore a very short sword at her waist, and a bandolier of what looked like throwing-knives. Strapped to her delicate leg was another sheath, holding a dagger no doubt. Even though she was no taller than my hand, I decided I wouldn’t want to invoke the wrath of the graceful but undoubtedly lethal Flora. A small silver circlet shone against her purple-dark hair, denoting her as some type of noble, I surmised, or a servant of the princess.
“And her brother,” continued Wisp, “Forsythe. They are cousins to Forin and Farin.”
So that was why their names were all similar, I thought in slight amusement to myself.
“My lady Tess,” said the dark-clad trooping Fae. He looked no less deadly than his sister, with a minute bow slung across his back and a quiver of tiny black-fletched arrows. To my surprise, he bowed to me. I smiled, which seemed to please him.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. Then I turned my attention back to the whole group. “I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your home, and I spoke just now to one of my good friends, a Sidhe who might be able to gain the ear of the Queen.” I told myself that Ramel would help, that the Dark Court would not be so unconcerned as to do nothing. “And if you wish, Princess Lumina, I could ask for an audience for you, with Queen Mab.”
Princess Lumina glided forward, as if drifting on a gentle swell of air though the room was perfectly still. “Thank you for the offer, Lady Tess,” she said in her mellifluous voice, “but the Small Folk and the Sidhe have never quite seen eye-to-eye, in more ways than one.”
I smiled at Lumina’s calm humor. Flora and Forsythe, too, suppressed chuckles. I admired their resilience, that they were able to see humor so soon after the dreadful event they had survived.
Flora stepped forward, with Forsythe close behind her. “If you do not mind, Lady Tess,” she said in a strong alto voice, “my brother and I would like to conduct a sweep of your chambers, to assure its safety.”
I gestured to my chambers with one hand. “Please. And make yourselves at home. I’m the only one who comes in here unannounced. Everyone else knocks and asks permission.”
Flora nodded. “Duly noted.”
She and Forsythe flew off to inspect the nooks and crannies of my room.
“With your permission, Princess Lumina,” I said, “I’d like to ask a favor of your people.”
“You have taken us in and proven yourself to be a Friend of the Small Folk,” said Lumina, “and so each may act in your service according to his own de
sires.” With that, Lumina turned and drifted toward my bed. Galax followed her, pulling a pillow to the center of the bed and standing by it like a sentry. Lumina curled up in the center of the pillow, barely making a dimple in the fabric.
“What favor do you ask?” Wisp said.
“A group of my friends has ridden out to rescue a party that was attacked by dark forces,” I said. “They said that any venture outside the keep’s walls is dangerous, so they wouldn’t let me go with them. I’d appreciate it if a pair of you would follow them, and come get me if they run into trouble.”
“They should have taken you with them,” Wisp said after a moment’s thought. “Because you are mortal, and you are not hurt by iron. That is what the Enemy is using against them, yes?”
“Yes,” I agreed.
“We shall go,” said Forin—or it might have been Farin. I couldn’t tell without staring, and I thought that would be rather impolite.
“Thank you,” I said. “They headed out about a quarter-hour ago, in the direction of the Royal Woods.”
“We shall have to make up time,” said Farin. I was sure it was her this time because her voice was much lighter than that of her brother. “But we shall follow, and I shall come to you if any ill befalls them.”
“Thank you,” I said, relieved that I would at least have some idea of what was happening to Ramel, Donovan and Emery. And Finnead. His face rose unbidden in my mind and I shook my head to focus myself. I opened the door for Forin and Farin, and they dampened their glow as they sped down the hallway, faster than thought, passing out of sight before I even blinked.
Chapter 16
I closed the door to my chamber. “Wisp,” I said, “do you or any of your friends need anything else right now? I brought some bread from the kitchens, and I think there’s a piece of cheese in there too, if you’d like. Or I can try to go and…find something else…” I shrugged, suddenly feeling deflated. Now there was really nothing to do but wait for Forin and Farin to return. My stomach clenched at the thought.
“We are very capable of taking care of ourselves, even here in the Dark Lady’s castle,” Wisp said, an uncharacteristic gentleness taking the sting out of his words.
“All right,” I replied wearily, sitting in my desk chair. I sighed.
“What’s the matter, Tess?” Wisp asked, landing gently on the makeshift map.
I smiled a little. “I’m trying not to complain.”
“Sometimes you need to complain,” Wisp said. “Otherwise it rattles about in your chest until you want to hit something. Or someone,” he added with a cheeky wink.
I chuckled. “It’s just that I hate feeling useless.”
Wisp nodded, flying in slow, lazy circles. “This I know, Tess, because that is part of why the Dark Lady told me to go to you. You are a mortal who favors action.”
“And here, in your world, I feel like a kid again,” I said with a dry bitterness. “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough with a sword to truly fight, and I haven’t even touched a bow or been taken to the stables yet.”
Flora and Forsythe alighted on the edge of the table. Forsythe bowed to me and I acknowledged him with a small nod. “If I may, my Lady Tess,” he said politely. When I smiled at him, he continued, “I don’t mean to intrude, but my sister and I could not help but overhear your conversation.”
“We are all in one room,” I agreed. “It’s kind of hard not to overhear everything.”
Forsythe inclined his head. “That’s very true, Lady Tess, and we are still thankful that you have chosen to offer your living quarters to us as a safe haven in this time of trouble. So I would like to point out, with the utmost respect, that you are not, my lady, useless in any sense of the word.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the small Fae’s eloquence. He was very courtly, and from what I could see very handsome. I was sure he was probably very popular among the Glasidhe ladies.
“And,” he continued, “if you’d allow us, my lady, I believe that my sister and I could be of some use in further relieving your feeling of inadequacy when it comes to using weapons.”
It took me a moment of thought to process Forsythe’s words.
“What my brother means to say,” said Flora with a small smile in Forsythe’s direction, “is that we can teach you.”
“Teach me?” I repeated.
“We may be small,” said Flora, and her sword, which was about the length of my pinky, flashed as she drew it, “but we fight better than the Big Folk, for our size. When we fight an enemy our own size, that’s easy. We have to be skilled enough to defend against—larger—threats.” Flora hesitated at the end of her sentence.
“Like me?” I supplied with a smile. “It’s all right, I won’t take offense.”
Flora smiled and bowed a little. “Very well, Lady Tess. Yes, like you.”
“So you could help me with swordsmanship?”
“We could help you with swordsmanship,” agreed Forsythe seriously, “and we could also teach you archery.”
“And knife-throwing,” added Flora, “although Forin is better than me at that.”
“Don’t be modest, sister,” said Forsythe teasingly. He turned back to me and said in a mock-aside, “She can put out the eye of a spider at two hundred paces!”
I thought about that for a moment, then nodded in respect. “That sounds pretty deadly to me.”
“Weapons aren’t my forte,” said Wisp without rancor, “so I’ll leave you in the capable hands of my companions, Tess. My strength is strategy, and speed.”
“Thanks, Wisp,” I said fondly, watching him turn to study the map. Then I looked at Flora and Forsythe. “Can we start now?”
“Certainly!” said Flora, her aura pulsing with enthusiasm. Her sword flashed again as she made a few lightning-quick passes, the metal singing through the air.
I grinned, suddenly feeling an almost overwhelming rush of optimism. I felt like I had a secret weapon now. Ramel, yes, he was a good teacher, but these small Fae, they had fought against beings literally a hundred times their size their entire lives. I figured I could use every bit of their expertise. “Let me get my sword,” I said.
For the next two hours, I found out that Flora and Forsythe were excellent swordsmen—they probably could have beaten Ramel, if the size differential were taken away. I also found out that they were exacting and demanding taskmasters: Flora would stand on the desk, and tell me what maneuvers to perform while Forsythe hovered above my head, examining my stance and execution from an aerial perspective. Then Forsythe critiqued my form, ever polite but painfully precise. Every half hour or so they switched positions, Flora hovering above me and Forsythe taking over the role of drill-sergeant. By the end of the first hour I felt sweat sliding down my back, and by the end of the second hour my arm ached and throbbed.
“Perhaps we should give her a short rest, brother,” said Flora, sitting on the edge of the table, dangling her legs and giving me a wicked smile.
“Yes, perhaps,” I agreed in a slightly mocking tone as I wiped my sweat-soaked face with a spare rag.
But Forsythe didn’t answer. He seemed deep in thought, turning in slow circles up near the ceiling. I took that as agreement, so I pulled out my chair and sat down with a sigh of relief, leaning my sword against the table.
“Flora,” I said, “how long do you think it will take the rescue party to return?”
“They were going to the Royal Wood?”
“Or somewhere close to it.” I nodded.
“It depends on many factors,” said Flora slowly. “If they are a rescue party, they will probably have to travel slower than a raiding party, because they will have healers and supplies to help aid their comrades. Then, once they arrive on the scene, they must decide whether it is most advantageous to leave on the return journey immedia
tely, or if it is most wise to wait a time before beginning the return journey. They would have to wait if the healers require time to stabilize the wounded, or if the rescued warriors’ mounts are in no condition to travel. There are many different situations which all require different responses.”
“So they could return tonight,” I said, “or days from now.”
Flora nodded. “Yes, Lady Tess.”
I waved my hand. “Just Tess, please.”
With a grin, Flora acquiesced. “As you wish.”
“Lady Tess,” said Forsythe from above me.
Leaning back in my chair and looking up at him, I pointed a finger at Forsythe. “That goes for you too.”
“I apologize,” said Forsythe in his courtly manner. “I was not paying attention to the conversation between you and my sister.”
“Not Lady Tess. I’m not nobility of any sort. Just Tess.”
“Very well, if you wish it,” said Forsythe.
“I do,” I replied, seeing from the corner of my eye that Flora covered a grin at my mock-serious reply to her stiffly courteous brother.
“I noticed,” said Forsythe, “that you hold your sword in your left hand, yet you favor your right hand when doing up buckles and picking up other objects.”
I smiled. They were small, but their minds were as sharp as their tiny swords. “When I first came here…the reason I was brought through the Gate was that I was injured in a fight with a garrelnost.”
“You fought a garrelnost?” said Flora. I wondered if I was imagining the undertone of awe in her voice.
“Yes,” I said, and I noticed that Wisp had stopped pacing about on the map. “But it was only because of Wisp that I survived.”