The Wraith and the Rose

by C. J. Brightley

  He was an accomplished swordsman, and a steel sword was particularly dangerous to Fair Folk. However, in most cases his disguise did not permit carrying a sword, and it was both easier and safer to rely on speed and unobtrusiveness than a blade.

  This time he knew he might need it.

  Young Juniper Morel had been one of his most faithful allies, and had been as courageous as any of Theo’s older compatriots. If he had fled, the situation in the Fair Court must have been dire indeed.

  Theo didn’t risk a light in the tunnels; he had learned early on that many of the most dangerous predators that prowled the veil were drawn to light, and it was safer to navigate in darkness. He extended his senses, seeking any sort of Fair presence in the twisting, shifting passages.

  It had surprised him that the Fair Folk could not sense presences in the tunnels as well as he could; he’d had several incredulous conversations with certain allies about it, unable to believe this piece of luck. At last he had attributed it to the one of the many idiosyncrasies of the veil itself, for the fact did not hold true in the Fair Lands.

  There!

  A faint Fair presence flickered a considerable distance away, and several more dangerous shadows lurked around it.

  Theo ran. His steps were long and sure as he vaulted over gaping chasms of nothingness that yawned suddenly in his path and dodged down the shifting passages that reformed behind him in a different configuration.

  He reached Juniper just as a serpent-like twist of darkness lunged at the fairy. Theo sliced off the tip of the protrusion, wincing at the icy chill that splattered across his face and arm. The chill left a tingly, numb sort of pain that would fade in an hour or so. The shred of darkness flipped and flailed in the darkness before reforming into part of the wall around them. Theo flicked a bit of magic into his fingertips for a moment of light.

  Juniper stared up at him with wild eyes. “Theo?” he rasped.

  “Yes, my friend. What has happened?” Theo knelt by the young fairy, taking in the stone that sheathed his lower body.

  The young fairy shuddered, and Theo put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  Juniper heaved a deep breath and, trembling, said, “I was attending Lord Nutsedge’s ball. Lord Mosswing told me that he had heard His Majesty Silverthorn himself speaking to one of his retainers, saying I was a traitor to the Fair Court and should be detained. I fled immediately. Lord Mosswing gave me a token to open a door he had made for me; my magic is not sufficient on its own to even access the veil. He was able to get away and go with me to the doorway. He said he had prepared the way for me, and the passage should have been short. But once in, I could not find the way.” He sagged, near fainting, and fell against Theo as the young man knelt beside him.

  “It’s all right. You’ve been very brave, my young friend.” Theo examined the stone with misgiving. It seemed solid, and a quick pulse of his magic into it seemed to avail nothing. The stone was not entirely set; it seemed to flow very slowly around Juniper, and even in the short time Theo had been watching, it had crept an inch higher. In an hour or two, the young fairy would be entirely engulfed.

  Theo frowned and tried a different sort of pressure on the stone, letting his magic spark and burn as it fought against the unforgiving stone.

  “Have a drink.” He handed the canteen to Juniper, then pulled out the bread. “You must be hungry. Do you know how long you’ve been in here?”

  “Thank you.” Juniper took the canteen and gulped desperately. Gasping, he forced himself to stop for a moment. “I can’t tell. It’s like eternal night. I’ve been parched.” He rested his head against Theo’s knee. “Thank you for coming.”

  His innocent trust only served to harden Theo’s resolve.

  Theo drew his sword and pressed the tip experimentally to the stone, which hissed as if it were water turning to steam. That sounded promising.

  A dark shape flicked toward Juniper, and Theo caught it with one hand and ripped it from the wall. An eerie wail started by his ear, then stuttered into a disgruntled silence.

  Theo flung the scaly thing in his hand into the darkness, then wiped his palm on his breeches.

  Juniper shuddered beside him. “How do you do it?” he whispered. “The veil is horrifying to Fair and humans alike.”

  “I do what I must.” Theo pressed his sword tip into the stone more firmly, and it sank in slowly, as if cutting through dense, tough leather. “If I cut straight down, will I injure your legs?”

  Juniper shook his head. “Not that one. My left is out a bit behind me, though.”

  “All right. Let me know if it hurts.” Breathing heavily with effort, Theo pushed the steel blade into the stone. Hissing and popping, the stone parted, and as Theo dragged the blade through the stone, it began to swell and pucker, like cut flesh.

  When he had cut a semi-circle around the trapped young fairy, Juniper said, “Sir!”

  A tendril of stone snaked up his torso and in a moment it had wrapped around Juniper’s throat. The fairy began to wheeze, clawing at the stone.

  Theo cut it at the base, and Juniper fell forward, gasping. The stone abruptly let go of his lower body, and he began to slide into the suddenly gaping hole.

  Theo grabbed him under the shoulders and hauled him bodily out of the hole and some distance away.

  Juniper wheezed and brushed terrified tears from his eyes. “Is it always like this?” he asked, his voice shaking. “I didn’t give you enough credit.”

  “Not always.” Theo eyed their surroundings cautiously. “I think it likes me, or at least has decided to ignore me most of the time.”

  “Most of the time.”

  Theo gave a low laugh. “Remind me to tell you about the time the ground disappeared under me and I fell into a great hall filled with a hundred thousand wasps and a hellhound furious that I’d woken them.”

  Juniper gave a startled laugh. “Somehow you survived.”

  Theo grinned at him and offered a hand. “Somehow. Come, you’re always welcome at my house. We’ll figure something out to get you home when His Majesty Silverthorn sees reason.”

  “Do you think he will?” Juniper accepted the hand up, then staggered into the wall, where he leaned dizzily. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to walk far, Theo.”

  “It’s not far, but I can carry you if need be.” Theo let the light fade.

  Juniper flushed. “I’ll make it.”

  “Just lean on me.” Theo wrapped his arm around Juniper’s slim shoulders and they started off.

  Chapter 8

  An Invitation

  Two days later a small crate was delivered to the Hathaway house in the city. The letter accompanying it read:

  Dear Sir Jacob,

  Please forgive me for my hurried departure at dinner two days ago. I deeply regret not being able to spend the evening with you and your family. If it isn’t too forward, I would very much appreciate another opportunity to become better acquainted with your family.

  I had thought to suggest another dinner, but it occurred to me that spring is well underway and the gardens around our estate are already in full bloom. Next week I believe many of the roses will be blooming. Would you honor my parents and me with your attendance at a private garden party next Friday? We will begin with games on the lawn at 4:00, enjoy dinner, drinks, and dessert in the garden, and finish with more games or a stroll around the grounds.

  I look forward to your reply.

  Yours humbly,

  Theo Overton, IV

  The crate contained a small burlap sack on which was pinned another letter addressed to Lily.

  Dear Miss Hathaway,

  Please forgive me for leaving so hurriedly. I had dearly hoped to spend the evening watching you smile, and had prepared several clever witticisms with that in mind. At least I had thought them clever at the time.

  The plant which I have sent is a particularly beautiful rose which blooms the purest, palest pink I have ever seen. It is called Maiden’s Blush. This sp
ecimen was propagated from one on our estate.

  I do hope you like it.

  Yours faithfully,

  Theo Overton, IV

  “He sent you a rose bush?” asked Oliver incredulously. “Is it an expensive one?”

  “Undoubtedly.” Sir Jacob looked into the burlap sack to see the root ball and the neatly trimmed canes of the bush. “The peonies certainly were. Where will you put it?” He addressed this to Lily.

  “Perhaps by the south wall of the garden. It gets good sun.” She looked up at him. “Will we keep this house after the season? If not, I should like to bring the plants with me when we return to Haven-by-the-Sea.”

  Sir Jacob hesitated, then said, “We will see. If we do not keep it, of course we will bring the plants with us. They are yours.”

  By that answer, Lily knew that he was concerned about the results of his investments.

  Neither her father nor mother had ever hinted that she ought to marry for money. It was obvious they wanted her to marry well, of course, but that was for her own benefit, not theirs. They wanted her to be provided for and cherished, and they wanted her to be happy. They wanted her to be loved.

  Sir Jacob wrote a polite acceptance and sent it with Susie’s younger brother to the Overton estate. Lady Hathaway smiled encouragingly at Lily and said, “It will be a lovely afternoon, my dear.”

  The thought of the garden party made Lily’s heart beat faster with excitement, though she was loath to admit it even to herself. She imagined Theo’s sparkling smile and his exuberant enjoyment of life. Did he really love her already? Could love be that quick? Surely not. She believed love developed slowly. Love ought to be entered into only after deliberation and careful exploration of each person’s values and beliefs, their attitudes and little quirks. Surely, if Theo truly fancied her, it could only be infatuation.

  She and Oliver visited the children’s home again and spent a pleasant afternoon helping, or attempting to help, the caretakers with the children. Oliver read to the older children from a book of history which John selected for him, while Lily spent much of the time making mince pies with the younger children.

  None of the children spoke of what they had experienced, and Essie had been quite emphatic that Lily and Oliver were not to question them. Lily’s curiosity nearly got the best of her once. She had asked some of the children which activity they liked best at the house. It was intended to be well within the bounds of what Essie had said was permitted. One of the little girls said quietly, “Anything but dancing. I don’t like dancing anymore.”

  Lily almost asked more, but bit her tongue. The poor child looked suddenly pale and tired, so rather than questioning her, Lily had merely knelt and asked if the girl would like a hug. Lily didn’t have much experience with children, but it seemed the sort of expression that indicated a deep need for a mother’s comforting embrace. The little girl stepped into her arms and rested her head on Lily’s shoulder, shuddering, when Lily wrapped her arms around her.

  Lily and Oliver returned home tired but elated. Perhaps they had not helped the Wraith himself, but they had provided some comfort to the children he had risked himself for.

  Still, even with the visit to the children’s home and several visits from Araminta, the garden party seemed to come too slowly. She wondered if she was infatuated with Theo, and decided that it was a distinct possibility. His gifts were both thoughtful and generous. His words were pretty and seemed sincere. Moreover, he was pleasing of face and figure, with beautiful manners and a delightful cheerfulness that made the world around him seem brighter.

  It was logical that she was beginning to be a little infatuated. She cautioned herself that it was, it could only be, an infatuation. Love did not begin so quickly. Perhaps later she might love him, but this? This was merely excitement and pleasure at being so noticed by someone of undeniable charm.

  She resolved to be logical and restrain her emotions. She did want to marry, of course, but she did not want to make a foolish decision because someone had lovely warm eyes.

  Lily’s resolve was tested three days later, when an extravagant bouquet of pink and coral roses was delivered by Theo’s personal footman, Anselm.

  He bowed and handed her the vase, which was unexpectedly heavy. “Would you like me to take it inside for you?” he offered.

  “That’s not necessary, but you’re welcome to rest if you’d like before you go.” The sun seemed especially hot this morning, and the footman was wearing a beautifully tailored coat that seemed too heavy for the increasing heat.

  The footman gave her an astonished look, then smiled slightly. “I thank you, my lady, but my master has also given me another task with some urgency. I will let him know of your kindness.”

  “Thank you.”

  He bowed and strode back to the street, where his horse was tied. He mounted and trotted away.

  Lily wondered what other task Theo had given him. What was involved in being the pampered son of a wealthy, aristocratic family?

  She turned back to the vase of roses. The vase was heavy cut crystal, and the more she looked at it, the more grave her misgivings. It was a handsome gift, certainly, but it somehow seemed more serious than the wooden crates. His gifts had progressed from disconcertingly thoughtful and expensive to more openly romantic and possibly even more costly.

  Dear Miss Hathaway,

  May these roses convey the depth of my admiration and affection. I pray you find delight in them, as I find delight in your beauty.

  Yours humbly,

  Theo Overton, IV

  She buried her nose in the roses and inhaled the sweet, fresh scent. It was heavenly.

  Chapter 9

  The League

  One afternoon Theo went riding in the countryside to meet several of his friends and allies. He brought Juniper along with him, and the young fairy had used a glamour to take the appearance of a blond, fair-skinned boy of about fourteen. His figure was the same, and Theo had acquired some clothes of the right size for him in unobtrusive colors and designs. Today he wore a white shirt, dove grey jacket and breeches, and unadorned, well-made riding boots. Theo had dressed in similar clothes, eschewing more ornate styles for this intimate group.

  Just after lunch they rode out to the rendezvous point near the edge of the Overton estate on a little outcropping that gave them visibility over much of the nearby environs. They let the horses graze while they sat in the lush grass and Theo pointed out distant landmarks for his young friend.

  Sir Michael Radclyffe arrived first, followed soon after by Lord Fenton Selby. Bernard Alexander, Sir Charles Bradbury, Sir Damien McNaught, Sir Andrew Whyte, and Lord Peter Roche followed in short order.

  “All is well with you?” asked Theo, meeting each one’s gaze in turn.

  They nodded and murmured assent. Theo introduced them each to Juniper without mentioning the fairy’s name.

  “Who is your friend?”

  “Before I answer, let me see if you can guess.” Theo motioned Juniper forward to stand beside him. “Turn around, let them see all of you. Look closely, everyone. Who is this young man?”

  They studied him.

  “I don’t know,” said Lord Selby finally.

  Theo smiled proudly. “Excellent. Juniper, please drop the glamour, if you don’t mind.”

  Juniper appeared as himself. His clothes were unchanged, but his true face was thinner and sharper. His eyes were set a little farther apart and more slanted than in the human glamour, and they were a shade of teal blue not seen in humans. His skin was exceptionally pale, and his dark hair had distinctly purple tones in the sunlight.

  He bowed to them politely and stood with his hands behind his back, trying to look unthreatening.

  Theo put a reassuring hand on the young fairy’s shoulder. “This, my friends, is Juniper Morel, one of our faithful allies in the Fair Lands. He was somehow discovered and the information passed from Lord Willowvale to His Majesty Silverthorn. Another of our allies was able to help him e
scape just in time. He had a rough time of it in the veil, too.” Theo squeezed Juniper’s shoulder and smiled. “So here he is. I wanted to test his glamour to see if it held up against scrutiny. I wouldn’t trust it against Lord Willowvale, but against human eyes it is sufficiently convincing.”

  Lord Selby gave him a thoughtful look. “Would you put on the glamour again, please?” he asked.

  Juniper obligingly did so, to the interest and further examination of the young gentlemen.

  “That’s fascinating,” said Lord Selby finally. “I wish I had your talent. My gift is also glamour, and I’ve never been able to do anything more dramatic than make my boots look less scuffed than they are.”

  “It’s because I’m a fairy, sir,” said Juniper modestly. “The magic runs in our veins, and it’s in the very air of the Fair Lands. We breathe it all our lives.”

  Lord Selby smiled kindly at him. “Yes, well, you use it well, and I am grateful for whatever services you have rendered to our leader.”

  Juniper said earnestly, “I owe him my very life! The veil almost ate me before he came to cut me out of the stone.”

  “Let’s not tally the favors among friends,” said Theo hurriedly. “My point was to introduce him to you, and to see if you had any ideas on how we might use his talent here in the human world. I can’t take him back to the Fair Lands until I sort out His Majesty Silverthorn. I need a lot more binding magic, and Juniper can help with that. What else might a young fairy’s glamour be able to do for us?”

  Lord Selby frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If Willowvale might see through it, or at least notice it, I doubt he could provide an alibi for you directly to Willowvale.”

  Juniper shook his head. “Nor would I be able to act the part, my lord. I do not know your world well at all, and although some of the conventions are similar, I would not like to inadvertently shame Theo by some misstep, after he has done so much for me.”