She didn’t take it.
Fay was watching her but looked away when Kayla caught her gaze. “So, Nooa, are we all going into the woods afterward?” she asked.
His mouth formed a response, but it was drowned out by the sound of a horn that exceeded even the music. When the horn stopped, the music had ceased too, and the revelers pushed toward the walls, clearing the dance floor.
Kayla was shoved back, between Nooa and Maeve, and even standing on her tiptoes, she couldn’t see what was happening. Everyone had their heads turned toward the arched opening and at once they cheered and whistled. Another horn sounded.
“What’s going on?” Kayla asked.
“It’s our knights,” Maeve said. Her eyes were sparkling like those of a child on Christmas Day.
Peeking past bodies, Kayla glimpsed the group of knights as they halted in the middle of the hall. Most of them were men, but some were women. They all wore golden armor that shimmered in the dull green glow of the Faery Lights.
Then the horn blew again.
In came the Seelie Queen. Ophira brightened the room as if she were the sun. Everything about her was golden: her silky gown, her curly hair, the majestic crown. Even her wings, whose green lines were barely visible now.
All eyes in the hall were on the queen, who faced the knights with a radiant smile. “My knights,” she said, opening her arms wide in welcome. “Your search might have been in vain, but you deserve to be honored for your deeds to the Seelie Court.”
The knights all bowed their heads. At the queen’s side, Chancellor Pwyll pinched his lips in a grim line.
“Tonight, we will revel,” Ophira said, “and tomorrow, you shall rest.” She beckoned the band with her hand, and as they strummed the first chord, a melody of glee and woe, the revelers scattered again.
Nooa pushed past Kayla. “Where is your brother?” he asked Maeve, his eyes scanning the rows of knights. “I cannot see him.”
Kayla noticed Maeve frown before following Nooa as he fought his way through the crowd. The hall was packed with more dancing faeries than before. One faerie woman knocked into Kayla, who staggered forward and brushed her arm against Fay. It tickled where their skin touched.
Kayla stepped back. “What have they been searching for?” she asked.
Several seconds passed before Fay answered, “Somebody who once belonged to the Seelie Court.”
“And they found that someone?”
“They were attacked,” Fay said.
“By what?”
Fay cast a glance toward the knights. Some of them had dents in their armor; others had cuts and bruises on their faces. “I cannot say,” Fay said, watching the crowd.
“Can’t or won’t?”
Fay said nothing.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. I’m going back to dance then.”
Kayla stormed off into the throng of dancing and laughing revelers. After the day she had, she was too tired to be annoyed by Fay, who clearly didn’t care much about her. She thought she should be more wary of the faeries, and while she avoided any drink or food for now, she let herself be pulled in by the music, which she feared was an enchantment too.
As the songs transitioned from one to another, each tune mellifluous and dazing, she drifted among strangers. She’d pictured meeting a faerie a thousand times and more, but now it was like walking among ghosts. Maybe it was all a dream. Or a trap.
One face in the crowd was familiar. The queen sat on a makeshift throne with such a rigid posture that one could have mistaken her for a statue. Her lips twitched into a fleeting smile as she watched the faeries place flowers at her feet.
The crowd was tightening again, and Kayla made her way toward what had to be a bar. It was a wooden stand adorned with wreaths of flowers and a guy with blond hair was pouring drinks in cups.
Nooa was standing there beside a woman with white hair like wisps of smoke. When she turned, Kayla noticed a tattoo of a pale blue flower on her cheek.
“Kayla!” Nooa called out. “Come join us. This is my mother, Siân.”
It took Kayla a lot of restraint not to stare at the woman with her mouth open. Despite the white hair, Siân looked way too young to have a son who was already grown. The difference in age was only visible in the hard lines along Siân’s jaw and cheekbones.
Siân offered Kayla a genuine smile. “You came to us at the right time. We have not had such a wonderful revel since the night in Beith that marks the longest time of darkness. How are you enjoying it?”
“I…” Kayla glanced at the peculiar group of faeries that seemed so strange to her while also somehow familiar. Faeries reveling in the moonlight, dancing as if tomorrow would never come. Like one of her dad’s stories had come to life.
She saw Maeve in the crowd, her arms wrapped around the neck of a fair-haired knight, kissing him. Two faerie girls stood in a loving embrace. Close by, two men were dancing with a woman, and further back, a faerie woman was breathing little kisses on a human man’s cheek and neck.
No care in the world could touch them.
“It’s different,” Kayla told Siân with a wide smile.
“Told you it would be fun,” Nooa said, and his mother laughed.
Among the revelers, Kayla glimpsed a few unusual faces, even to her untrained eye. Their skin was darker, even more than Nooa’s, and some of them had horns curling from their heads. One of them had a pair of antlers as majestic as any stag. He was holding a spear, his black eyes scanning the room.
Those had to be the pookas Fay had mentioned.
Kayla was watching the man with the antlers when the music broke off. Some faeries staggered forward mid-step, while others twisted their heads, their eyes wide with confusion. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Then somebody shrieked and everyone whirled around to the entrance of the hall.
“Someone is hurt,” Siân said.
She sidled past people, Kayla and Nooa at her heels. By the time they reached the archway, a small group had gathered around the newcomer. A girl with a tear-streaked face cowered on the floor, dabbing at her eyes with the hem of her dress.
“It was right th-there,” she said between sobs. “I-I thought it was sleeping, b-but it was so cold…” She was cradling a bundle the size of a baby in her arms.
Siân kneeled down beside her, patting her shoulder. “What was it?” she asked.
Kayla stared at the crying girl, rocking back and forth on the floor. She couldn’t form a single sentence and broke off after the third word, which Kayla couldn’t quite understand.
One knight stepped forward. “I need you to tell me what you saw right away,” he said.
The girl blinked at him through watery eyes, her lower lip trembling.
“I can only help you,” he said, much gentler now, “if I know what happened.”
“I-I was in the woods,” she sniffled, wiping her nose with her dress, “when I stumbled across it. I felt something slick on my feet and… and…” She broke into tears again.
“No harm will come to you now,” Siân said.
The girl drew in a huge breath. “I found a dead body.”
A nervous whisper broke out in the crowd. Kayla saw fear on several faces, terror on others, and she hugged her arms to her chest.
“A body?” the knight asked.
“Yes,” the girl said. “A pixie’s body.”
She unfolded the blanket of the bundle in her lap and revealed a tiny and fragile creature, with deep-blue skin and fine, bug-like wings that lay motionless against its side. Its eyes were open and empty. Blood soaked the cloth it wore.
People gasped, and somewhere in the distance a girl cried out. Kayla wanted to scream too.
“What is it?”
Ophira had reached the scene accompanied by Pwyll, and her eyes widened at the sight of the dead pixie in the girl’s lap. She turned to the knights. “Take her up to the Citadel,” she said. “And send word to Catháir.”
One knight took the bundle out of the girl’s a
rms, while two others helped her up, guiding her out of the hall. A gloomy veil settled over the revel. All around, the Faery Lights faded, and the revelers filed outside.
They all murmured words: murder, mutilated, a disgrace.
Kayla had lost sight of Siân and Nooa, but once she was outside in the meadow, Fay approached her, alone. Her face was an impenetrable mask.
“We should get back to the Citadel,” she said.
Kayla didn’t argue. She’d seen enough on her first day in the land of faeries.
Seconds after Fay had left Kayla in her room, Kayla decided she couldn’t sit still. She tiptoed to the door and opened it a crack. The hallways were empty, lit with a pale green glow by hovering Faery Lights. Kayla crept down the corridor, keeping close to the wall, and stopped each time she heard the tiniest noise.
At one end of the corridor was a wide staircase leading up to the throne room, which was definitely a place Kayla wanted to avoid. So she made her way to the opposite end, where she found a narrow, winding stairwell. She climbed the stairs, wondering if she was now in one of the Citadel’s towers.
Round and round she went, several floors up, until she reached a wooden door. She pushed it open and peered inside. A Faery Light sprung to life beside the door, causing a chain reaction throughout the room. Within seconds, the warm green light revealed row after row of wooden bookshelves. Kayla glimpsed heavy armchairs, their fabric still intact but the color faded to a pale brown.
Kayla closed the door with a soft click and began browsing the shelves. They were a wild array of different languages, including English, German, Latin, and French. She found an entire row of Dutch books and another stacked with old tomes wrapped in leather. Some books were written in languages Kayla had never seen and that looked distinctly non-human.
She was reaching for one of those books when the door to the library opened with a squeal. Kayla froze. A green light popped up at the end of the row. Kayla staggered back, but there was no place to hide; the bookshelves formed a cul-de-sac.
“Who’s there?” she called out, her throat dry as parchment.
The lantern was lowered. Kayla blinked away the dancing spots in her eyes and focused on the boy opposite her. It was the red-haired knight from the throne room. His face was still in the lantern’s light and his pale green eyes rested on Kayla. He didn’t speak.
“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Kayla said. “I was, uh, looking for a bathroom.”
The red-haired knight didn’t move, and something about the way he stood perfectly still caused Kayla’s skin to prickle.
“Can you…?” Kayla began, then hesitated. The knight watched her with an open, inquisitive gaze and Kayla couldn’t stop herself. “Can you talk?”
He lifted his hand, touching the tip of his thumb to the tips of his index and middle finger.
“Oh, okay.” Kayla took a step toward him, then signed, What’s your name?
His mouth fell open. You know sign language?
Kayla sighed, some tension leaving her shoulders. Her ASL was rusty, but at least she could talk to him. Yes, she signed. Who are you?
My people call me F-I-O-N-N, he signed.
“Fionn,” she said out loud. “I’m Kayla.” She spelled out her name with her fingers.
Fionn’s lips twitched into a brief smile, which ceased as a shadow crossed his face. You should not have come here, he signed. Some of us never leave this place.
While she was trying to remember the sign for library, she realized that wasn’t what he meant. She glanced at him. He had his head bowed, his mop of red hair blazing like fire in the glow of the Faery Lights. He was a few inches shorter than her, but not much, about the same height as her brother, Theo. While her brother was lanky, Fionn was sturdy and broad-shouldered.
A grown man locked in a young boy’s body.
Why are you here? she asked, her fingers trembling. She didn’t know how to put the following into signs, so instead she spoke out loud, emphasizing each syllable. “Did they do something to you? Is that…?”
It is not the reason I cannot talk, he said. I was born deaf. And then I made the wrong decision once. Now I am bound to this land.
“And you can’t leave? Ever?”
His face fell into a grimace and his eyes flicked away from Kayla. He picked up his lantern and shuffled down the hallway without another look back. Kayla could have caught up to him, but something held her back, rooting her to the ground.
She slid to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest. Now I might be bound to this land too. If Kayla failed to find her father, she’d meet the same fate as Fionn. She closed her eyes, picturing tomorrow when Ophira would ask for Kayla’s decision. Saying no meant she’d return home to the way things used to be. It meant abandoning the chance to find her father, and that chance might be her only one.
Saying yes, on the other hand, meant leaving behind the life she knew. Leaving behind Theo, Abby, and her mother.
Kayla buried her face in her hands, pressing the base of her palm to her eyes. “I don’t know what to do, Dad. I can’t lose either of you. I just can’t…”
She sat there for the longest time, until the Faery Lights had faded to darkness.
9
LATE NIGHT COUNCIL
Fay was back in the council room. The lighting and the atmosphere were both more subdued than earlier in the day. Five somber faces stared at the surface of the wooden table, their features distorted by the green shimmer of the Faery Lights hovering close by.
No one spoke. Fay had never seen the councilors at such a loss for words. Across the table, Siân lifted her head to meet Fay’s gaze, but even she, with her usual cheerful appearance, couldn’t muster a smile.
Fay stared out the window, even though it was pitch-black and she saw only the room’s reflection. A dull ache had started at the back of her head, spreading down her neck. Her eyes burned with exhaustion. Chicago felt far away, like a different life, made real only by the black-haired girl in a room down the hallway. The look on Kayla’s face when she saw the dead pixie was imprinted on Fay’s mind.
“What happened? Who did this?” Kayla had asked.
Fay hadn’t answered and guided Kayla back to her room. She’d deal with her in the morning.
Footsteps echoed from beyond the door. Ophira strode into the room, followed by Pwyll and a man with a pair of antlers. Fay hadn’t been this close to the leader of the pookas before, but she was familiar with his short temper. As Ophira settled on her chair, the pooka stopped with his spear held tight in his hand.
“Cadfael, I can assure you this rattled us as much as you,” Ophira said. She pinched her lips into a fine line, which Fay knew was her way of keeping back any emotions not fit for a queen.
“This was murder,” Cadfael said. “Right on your doorstep.”
“The body was found in the Whispering Woods.” The strain in Ophira’s voice was faint, but obvious to Fay. “Between Catháir and our borders.”
Cadfael growled. “You’re putting the blame on the pixies? One of your Seelies found the body.”
“She would not have harmed the poor thing,” Siân said. “She was trying to save it.”
“Maybe she was, but I don’t believe it was a coincidence she found the pixie.” Cadfael’s black eyes settled on Ophira. Compared to Ophira’s fair complexion, his skin tone was much darker, the planes of his face sharper, more… animalistic. “What we feared all this time is about to come true. They’ve announced their return.”
Councilor Farren leaped to her feet. “You have no right—” She shrank back onto her chair when Ophira raised her hand.
“We have discussed this. I have it under control.”
“Apparently not,” Cadfael said. “Our kingdom is broken and it’ll stay that way as long as she’s out there.”
Some vigor returned to Ophira’s posture. She straightened her shoulders, her gaze firm on Cadfael. “Your words hold some truth,” she admitted. “However, as queen of Tír na nÓg, it i
s my duty to fix what is broken. And so I will. This does not concern you.”
“I won’t bow down,” Cadfael said. “When the time comes, I’ll finish her myself.”
Ophira rose from her seat. “Are you willing to disobey my orders? If you break our treaty, you will bring another war upon yourself. Is that worth the cost?”
With a frown, Cadfael shifted the spear to his other hand. “I suppose I will have to trust you, for now, but do not make me regret this,” he said, gritting his teeth. He stormed from the room, leaving behind shocked faces.
Fay looked around the table, struggling to keep her eyes open. The pounding in her head had gotten a lot worse.
Once the sound of Cadfael’s footsteps had receded, Ophira beckoned to Pwyll. “There is something we have to discuss,” she said, taking something small from Pwyll’s hand and placing it on the table. It was a piece of parchment, which she flattened with her hands. “We found this note with the pixie. ‘We know you have the girl.’ It was signed with the Raven’s Mark.”
Fay shot up, startling Councilor Bedwyr beside her. “The girl?”
“So Cadfael’s suspicions…” Farren said, ignoring Fay’s question.
“He was not wrong.” Ophira picked the note up, scanning it. “He must not know until we have learned more. They have left clues before, but never one that was so violent… and obvious.” She folded the note and then looked up at Pwyll. “At sunrise, you must gather your knights and prepare them to leave again.”
“But where should I send them?”
“Back to the Barren. We have barely covered any ground there.”
Pwyll bowed his head. “Yes, your Highness.”
“This is about the human girl, then?” Bedwyr asked. He cast a brief glance at Fay. “Why would they be interested in her?”
“How do we know she is not working with them?” Farren said. “Perhaps she was the one who murdered that poor pixie.”
“That’s impossible!” Fay’s voice rang through the council chamber. When everyone turned to her with mild shock, she blushed and lowered her voice. “Kayla was with me the entire night.”
Seelie Princess (The Crown of Tír na nÓg Book 1) Page 7