by De-Ann Black
The air was so cold my dress froze.
When we landed it glittered, encrusted with white snow crystals. My silver shoes matched the snow.
Sabastien whispered something, again not to me, but to the air itself, and wrapped a white wool cape around my shoulders.
But I didn’t feel cold.
I just felt hunted.
Snow lay all around. We stood at the edge of the city whose spires towered into the stormy sky. The skyline seemed familiar.
‘Is this Edinburgh?’ I said, hearing my voice sound clear in the freezing air. All was quiet. No people, no fae, a city of silence and beauty and danger. I sensed the danger wrap itself around my chest and tighten.
Sabastien stood beside me, his long coat touching the deep snow. ‘It used to be, of sorts, a long time ago.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Fae don’t feel the urge to change things continually as humans do. Sometimes a city, its buildings, is ideal, so we keep it like that.’ He looked around. ‘This is Edinburgh, our version of it, over two hundred years ago. Change isn’t always progress.’
I recognised the ancient spires, and rooftops, iced white instead of dark slate. Lights shone in some of the windows. But the silence was overwhelming.
‘Where is everyone?’
‘Unseen by mortals, even one like you with faerie blood.’
That’s when I noticed the purple thorns around the edges of his coat. Against the snow, they looked purple tinged with blue. Perhaps I hadn’t noticed. Then I looked at the wound on my hand, purple and now tinted blue.
Sabastien saw what I was looking at, and anger swept across his face.
‘What’s happened? The colour’s changed.’ Even Sabastien’s eyes were lilac–blue.
‘It doesn’t concern you.’
‘Yes, it does.’ I showed him the purple–blue wound on my hand.
He looked away, drew a long breath, and then said, ‘Blame the Cupid’s darts. My coat cut through the flowers when I was fighting Daire.’
‘I remember. The flowers scattered across the grass. But why would that affect you? And me?’
‘The Cupid’s darts tainted me, and I later tainted you.’
‘Orlaith warned me not to touch the flowers because of the lore. She said they could make me vulnerable to someone’s romantic wishes.’
He looked at the thorny edges of his coat. ‘I will never be susceptible to love or romance.’
‘Everyone falls in love.’
‘I don’t love anyone any more. I will never choose to do so again.’
‘Love doesn’t always let you choose.’
He nodded and his thoughts seemed far away, dwelling on something that clearly disturbed him. ‘I chose once a long, long time ago. I will never do that again.’
‘Who was she? What happened?’
He breathed in the snow cold air. ‘My heart was broken by a girl like you a long time ago.’
‘Broken hearts can mend.’
‘Yes they can, but I decided not to fix mine. A broken heart can be useful in my world. Mine doesn’t work any more. I’m immune to love and all its trials and fickleness. It’s easier not to love. Life is less complicated and infinitely more fun. I’m happier not being in love as it invariably causes pain and distress and longing and strife. A broken heart, an empty one that cannot be filled with love until it’s mended is a lightness that I enjoy far more. So you see, I prefer to keep my heart broken. It’s a huge advantage.’
I understood. I did, but it seemed so sad. I’d gone from being angry with him to feeling sorry for him. ‘So you fell in love with a human?’
‘I did. She was nothing but trouble. But that was almost a hundred years ago. She went back to her own world, and to the man she really loved. I was…what was it she called me? Oh yes, a beautiful distraction.’
He focussed his fascinating eyes on me, and I sensed the partial blame for his torment being aimed at me.
‘Don’t blame me for something she did.’
He blinked, and a moment later, he smiled. ‘How perceptive of you, Vesper.’
A surge of air swept past me and I heard the sound of wings beating, strong and powerful. I gulped when I saw a large moth flying overhead, followed by other moths of various colours, mainly white and grey. Fearsome creatures.
Sabastien put a dark, glittering wing around me, hiding me. ‘Stand still. The grey dagger moths won’t harm you. They’ll be on their way to help Daire fight Archer. Though I cannot ensure your safety from the Alchymist.’
I stood still, peering through the gossamer wing at the moths. ‘Which one is the Alchymist?’ I said in the smallest whisper.
Sabastien pointed to a dark moth with mottled light markings. ‘The Winter moths are white, and there’s the Vapourer, barely visible.’
‘I hope Daire is okay.’
‘He’s quite the warrior. Didn’t you see the scar on his face, and his torn wings? His wings are battle worn. Though few can fight better than Daire.’
‘And Archer…?’
‘He’s a fae, though not one of us. He’s of the woodland.’
‘Why did he try to kill me? His arrow just missed me.’
‘I’m sure Archer has a plan — and that plan involves you.’
‘Is he the one who is hunting me?’
Sabastien stepped back from me and his wings vanished as if they’d never been there. He gazed up at the sky. The moths had gone.
‘Well, is he?’ I said.
‘Yes, I think he is. But Daire will protect you.’
And Sabastien wouldn’t?
‘So,’ he said, stretching out his arms, ‘you’ve got two choices. You can come with me to watch Daire and Archer battle it out, which won’t be pretty, and you’d be in danger of the Alchymist seeing you. He doesn’t like humans. Things could become nasty.’
‘Or…?’
‘Have dinner with me.’
‘Dinner?’ Was he joking?
‘I promised to take you to dinner tonight, and I do like to keep my promises.’
‘I couldn’t possibly enjoy dinner knowing that Daire could be…’
‘Oh, don’t worry about Daire. My money’s on him.’
Before I could decide, Sabastien whispered something, and we were standing at the door of a fabulous restaurant. Although the building was designed two hundred years ago, the restaurant reminded me of those I’d seen in movies from the early 1900s.
‘We can dine on the top floor. The view is spellbinding,’ he said in that wicked way that hinted he was up to something. He probably was, because I could feel my resistance waning and the prospect of dinner tempted me.
He whispered again, and we were standing on the top floor. The decor was ornate. The tables had white linen covers and white and gold dinnerware.
We sat down at a table with a great view of the city. We seemed to be the only two dining, and the food appeared as if by magic. We helped ourselves from a sumptuous buffet.
I gazed out over the city, seeing the streets, some familiar, others belonging to Edinburgh from the past, before the roads were changed to accommodate the busy traffic. The layout, however, was the same. I was looking at the past, while living in the present. And I agreed with Sabastien. Sometimes things are ideal as they are. The city was magnificent as it was.
Snow fluttered past the windows. The city looked like it had never seen a warm summer’s day, but I loved the atmosphere of it. I loved the snow.
Sabastien smiled at me across the table and something in my stomach ached to touch him, perhaps to kiss him. ‘Have you cast another spell on me?’ I said quietly.
‘Would I do a thing like that?’ he said teasing me.
I tried not to smile.
‘You look lovely in that dress. If I didn’t know better I’d easily mistake you for one of us. You have a magical quality about you. No wonder Daire has a crush on you.’
‘Daire?’
He nodded.
‘I thought…’
He finished the words I wouldn’t say. ‘That I was your secret admirer?’
I couldn’t deny it.
He shook his head. ‘Daire is quite taken with you. Since he first saw you, when we’d tried to find out whether you or Orlaith would be the one to gift us back the land, he’s been acting a little love sick.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘But you’d have preferred that it was me?’
‘Not at all.’
He leaned back in his chair. The lilac in his eyes had faded, and blue was the dominant colour. A smile tugged at the corner of his luscious lips.
‘How long have you both been watching me?’ I said.
‘Since the spring. Don’t worry. We didn’t see anything private, nothing embarrassing. We’d never do that. We just needed to see what type of person you were.’
‘I’d be in London then.’
‘Yes. There’s a lot of laughter in your house. You and your mother seem to be great friends.’
‘We are.’
‘You can never tell her anything about this.’
‘Why not?’
‘Hmm, let me see…she’s a newspaper journalist.’
I laughed. ‘She could never print any of this. They’d think she was crazy if she wrote about faeries.’
‘You still can’t tell her. She wouldn’t deal with it as you have. Things would change between you. It wouldn’t be the same.’
I thought about what he said.
‘You know I’m right.’
I did. But how could I keep a secret like this from her?
We finished our meal which was delicious, and I thought about the Cupid’s darts. Had the blue flowers made Sabastien feel attracted to me? And did I feel attracted to him because I’d been spellbound? Had his spell inadvertently worked against him by making him susceptible to my romantic wishes? And would either of us give in to our attraction?
I knew I should be concentrating on getting back home instead of thinking about falling for Sabastien. Would my mother and Orlaith be worried about me? Would they even know that I’d gone missing? But every time I tried to think about things like this, my thoughts drifted back to love and romance.
Think about something else, I told myself. And then I remembered — the cat.
‘Tell me about Midnight.’
‘What do you want to know?’ Sabastien said to me.
‘Is he really a cat?’
‘Oh, yes. A fae cat.’
‘Is there a difference?’
‘Yes. He belongs to Archer.’
‘What’s he doing living with Orlaith?’
‘That moon garden of hers — it’s quite magical. Even without the bluebells, there’s something about it that draws you to it. A garden that comes alive at night. I believe he went to live there last winter.’
‘Yes, she found him in the garden one day. She called him her visitor cat. He stayed for a few days, and never left. She named him Midnight because of his lovely deep blue fur.’
‘That’s his name.’
‘The cat can’t talk?’ I said, hoping this was true.
‘No, though he can influence some human’s thoughts. Not yours — you’re far too stubborn and fiery.’
‘Why didn’t you want me to open the letter until Midnight was asleep?’
‘Because I thought he’d tell Archer. We tend to cross swords with each other from time to time. I knew if Midnight saw that the letter was from me, he’d run straight to Archer. I didn’t want Archer involved.’
‘Does Orlaith suspect that Midnight’s a fae cat?’
‘No. She thinks he’s fluffy and cute and just a cat. And that’s how we’d like to keep things, so you can’t tell her anything about this either.’
I didn’t see this being a problem. ‘No one would ever believe me.’
‘Orlaith would. She’d love to believe you. You’d change her life forever.’
‘I’d never do that.’
‘Good.’
He sipped from a glass of sparkling liquid. The gold ring shone on his finger. I was drawn to look at it, and then a flickering light in the distance caught my attention. I wondered if it was Daire.
I stood up and cupped my hands against the window to get a better look.
Sabastien stood behind me, so close I could feel the muscles in his chest press against me. I felt my heartbeat quicken. I fought the urge to turn around to look at him, knowing he was so close, I’d be near enough to kiss his lips — something I’d resisted doing and tried not to think about. Spellbound or not, he tempted me beyond all reason. But I resisted.
Sabastien didn’t resist. He kissed my neck, one kiss, causing me to forget everything except how he made me feel. Lost in the moment, lingering, longing…
‘I can never love you, Vesper,’ he whispered.
‘You might if your heart wasn’t broken.’
There was the longest pause. ‘Perhaps.’
Lights shone beyond the city. A clash of fireworks in the dark sky.
The moment of romance was broken, replaced with the realisation that the battle was at its height.
‘Wait here,’ said Sabastien.
‘Take me with you.’
‘You can’t fight.’
‘I can’t wait here and do nothing.’
He read the determination in my eyes. My instincts were telling me this was the right thing to do. Somehow, I thought that I could help make a difference. I could help Daire.
He looked at me. His eyes had become lilac again. No hint of blue. ‘Hold tight, and don’t let go of me.’
‘I won’t.’
A flash of starlight singed the air and then the windows in front of us opened wide. The air rushed in, cold and fierce, blowing through the restaurant. I heard the sounds of the clash echoing far off, and below us the city shone like a winter’s dream.
Sabastien’s dark wings extended to full width. I sensed their power.
I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his sinewy muscles and otherworldly strength.
He glanced at me, a look of strong assurance — and then he soared into the night.
The speed of his flight was extraordinary. The beat of his wings gathered pace, cutting through the air, shortening the distance. I held tight, relying on my own strength to cling to this magnificent fae as we headed straight into the centre of the clash.
Several woodland fae, blue and swift like Archer, defended Archer against the Winter moths, Grey Daggers and the others. I saw the Alchymist, and wondered how he’d react when he saw me. The warning that he didn’t like humans made me wary. But I’d made my choice. No going back now. No faltering. Daire needed our help. Perhaps, in the strangest way, I could be the distraction to make Archer take his eyes off Daire long enough for him to gain the upper hand, though judging by the state of Archer, blue blood running down one arm, Daire was within moments of winning the battle. Daire’s grey top shone with a layer of chainmail, and metal cuffs protected his wrists and forearms. They fought each other in the sky, blow for blow. Snow, stardust and sparkling light, like glittering stars on a winter’s night, filled the sky around us.
Sabastien flew fast and low, and despite my protests, he dropped me safely on the forest ground, before flying towards Daire.
‘No!’ I shouted. Archer would never see me here.
But I was wrong.
He didn’t see me — he sensed me. He flew down, straight as the arrows strapped to his back, targeting me.
I went to run, but tripped on something on the ground, partially covered by fallen leaves and snow. ‘Archer’s bow,’ I said, almost in triumph. I grabbed it and ran, hiding in the undergrowth, in the shadows of the trees. The forest was dark, and the musty scent of leaves filled the air. I shrugged the white wool cape from my shoulders. The colour highlighted me in the dark. The grey dress, even encrusted as it was now with crystalline sparkles, merged with the night and the branches of the trees, whose tangled roots seemed to have a grudge against me. Unless
I was mistaken, they moved, as if trying to grip hold of my ankles. I stamped them aside and kept running. The thought that if I was fast enough, and with the fae blood in my veins, I hoped I was, I’d be light enough of foot to outrun Archer.
But I was wrong again.
I was fast. But not as fast as Archer.
I threw the bow aside, hoping this would cause him to stop and pick it up, and give me time to get away.
He did stop, though soon he was closing the gap between us. I heard his pace quicken.
I glanced back over my shoulder, my hair whipping my eyes. The tall, strong, lean figure, dressed in blue, part medieval knight, part fae, carrying the bow in his right hand, hunted after me. He looked as fit as Sabastien and Daire, and bore a handsomeness that deeply affected my senses. He frightened me, and fascinated me. A lethal combination. These fae were a distraction, their beauty part of their guile to ensnare the unwary, to entice me to falter or fall for them.
Keep going, I told myself. Run. Run.
‘Vesper!’ he shouted, his voice spurring me on to get away from him. Hearing him shout my name gave me the coldest feeling, and yet it enticed me. Another spell to reel me in, I thought.
Something silver shimmered ahead. A river? Yes. I could swim. I could get away from Archer, unless…I glanced back again. He’d drawn an arrow from its sheath and while running he’d secured it in the bow.
I heard the arrow slice through the air, missing me by a whisker, causing me to almost stumble.
Where was the river? Panic burned my throat. Then I saw it, moments away. I could make it. I ran and dived towards the water, but Archer flew and caught me. I struggled. He dropped me. I ran on again, into the darkest forest I could ever have envisaged.
Shadows and trees with twisted vines trailed to the ground thick with leaves. Almost silent. Somewhere in its depths a haunting wind blew through the branches, touching my hair, and a whispering warning — beware…beware…
I trudged on, pushing the branches aside. I’d no intention of venturing far, just far enough to hide from Archer until I was sure he’d gone.
A monster’s roar made me stop and look around, my breath like mist in the icy atmosphere. It roared again, sounding all around me. Which direction should I run? Or should I hide?