Seelie Princess (The Crown of Tír na nÓg Book 1)

by Sarah Tanzmann

  Farren raised an eyebrow at her. “Is that so? You never left her side, not for one second?”

  Fay opened her mouth again but faltered.

  “Just as I thought,” Farren said, smirking.

  “It was only for a moment,” Fay said. She clenched her hands into fists under the table, her ring cutting into her skin. “Kayla could not have gone into the Whispering Woods. She does not even—”

  “Why should I trust any of your words? We all know you are perfectly capable of lying.”

  Before Fay could get in another word, Ophira cleared her throat and all the attention was back on her. “I believe they have been looking for the girl,” Ophira said. “She is important to them and so she is important to us.”

  No one questioned Ophira’s words. That the Crown of Tír na nÓg gave the bearer certain abilities was never talked about, but most were convinced of it. Perhaps they liked to believe that their leader was omniscient and could outwit their enemies.

  Fay had never doubted Ophira’s words either.

  A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. She had trusted Ophira that Kayla was the solution, even though she saw no evidence of that yet. And she’d known from the beginning what kind of situation this was, what was at stake and what danger they’d be facing. She had been willing to take the risk, convinced it was worth the price. Now she couldn’t shrug off the image of Kayla, wide-eyed and pale, as she held back tears at the sight of the dead pixie.

  When Fay looked up, she realized that the conversation had carried on.

  “—a memorial at nightfall,” Ophira was saying. “It should keep the people quiet for now. In the meantime, you must stifle all rumors about this, and everything I said in this room must remain a secret. We cannot afford public unrest now.”

  The five councilors all nodded in solemn agreement. They rose to their feet and filed out of the room, all except Pwyll, who hovered by the door when neither Fay nor Ophira moved.

  “I wish to discuss something with Fay,” Ophira said, and Pwyll vanished with one last bow. “Come sit next to me.”

  Fay moved closer to Ophira, who reached out to clasp one of Fay’s hands with her own. Her fingers were cold, and she looked about as tired as Fay felt.

  “Your Highness,” Fay said and faltered.

  “I can see that something troubles you.”

  Fay nodded. The pounding in her head returned with a violent intensity, but she shoved the pain aside. “What if…” She stopped to clear her throat. “What if they harm the girl too?”

  “Fay, your sympathy for her is admirable.” Ophira gave Fay’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yet you should not fear for her. As long as she is here at our court, or in your company, she will be safe. And it is important that she stays with us. We cannot protect her in the mortal world.”

  “She is wary of your bargain. I do not think she will stay.”

  “Then you must convince her.”

  “Would it not be easier if she knew the truth?”

  Ophira released Fay’s hand. “We cannot tell her. Not before we find out why they need her. We have to make sure she does not leave the court until then. She wants her father and if you convince her to trust us to find him, she will stay.”

  Fay clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into the skin of her palms. “I would be deceiving her.”

  “You asked for a second chance,” Ophira said. Her eyes rested on Fay for a second, then she stood with a sigh. “It has been a long day. We should both get some rest.”

  Fay kept her head down as Ophira walked from the room, and she thought Ophira was already gone when she spoke again from the doorway.

  “It is you or the girl, Fay. The decision is yours.”

  When Fay left the throne room, most Faery Lights had reduced to a dim glow. As she walked up to her room, she noticed someone standing in the shadows by her door. It was a girl with dark hair. For a second, she thought it was Kayla—and a tiny part of her even hoped it was—but she was mostly relieved when she realized it was someone else.

  Isobel.

  “I thought you might want some company,” she said.

  Taking Isobel’s hand, Fay shoved open her door and led them into her room. As soon as the door had shut, Fay pulled Isobel close, at first brushing her lips against Isobel’s, then kissing her with a sense of despair and longing.

  Her fingers moved on their own, trailing up Isobel’s back, unclasping her dress. It slid to the floor and soon Fay’s dress followed. Isobel reached up and removed the floral crown from Fay’s head, placing it with care on the nightstand. She returned to Fay, hugging her close.

  Fay shuddered at the touch of bare skin against her own naked body. They collapsed onto the bed, all the while not breaking apart.

  Isobel placed hot kisses down Fay’s neck. Then she went down even further. Eyes closed, Fay relaxed back into the cushions, her body trembling under Isobel’s touch.

  Memories of the day threatened to break into Fay’s mind, but she shoved them aside, locked them out. She focused on the moment, on Isobel’s long hair tickling her skin, on the taste of Isobel’s lips, on the way her body felt a little less broken.

  Later, Fay curled up behind Isobel, holding her close. She was on the brink of sleep when Isobel’s voice startled her awake again.

  “Why did you go to Chicago?”

  Fay pulled away from Isobel, turned onto her back, and rubbed two fingers between her brow. The headache had subsided, but only for a brief moment. “It was nothing,” she said.

  Isobel sat up, and all Fay could see in the darkness were the outlines of her body. “You always say that.”

  “Because it’s not important.”

  “What about that girl, then? You brought her here.”

  Fay tensed. The last thing she wanted to talk to Isobel about was Kayla.

  “Listen.” Isobel took one of Fay’s hands into her own. “We might not be anamchara, but we are still friends, right? I care about you and if there is anything that troubles you, I will always be here to help.”

  Fay tugged at Isobel’s hand and Isobel settled back down on the bed, snuggling up at Fay’s side. “You’re right. We’re friends,” Fay said. “And I’m enjoying all of this. A lot.”

  Isobel brushed a quick kiss on Fay’s cheek. “Me too.”

  “But I don’t want to talk about Chicago or Kayla or dead pixies. Not here, not now.” She’d have to do plenty of talking the next morning. The mere thought of lying to Kayla caused her tongue to prickle with premonition.

  “That is a pretty name. Kayla. Don’t you think?”

  Fay didn’t answer. Something inside of her had tightened when Isobel said Kayla’s name. Time Fay spent with Isobel was a relief on most days, a short respite from the court’s troubles. With Isobel, she wasn’t the Seelie Princess. She was just Fay. And Fay didn’t like mixing her two worlds.

  “I should get some rest now,” Fay said. When Isobel shifted, she drew her back in. “You don’t have to leave.”

  Without another word, Isobel rested her head on Fay’s chest, her body growing heavier in Fay’s arms as she drifted off to sleep.

  Fay lay awake for a long time, staring up at the ceiling until the shadows bore down on her and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  10

  EIGHT YEARS AND NINE MONTHS AGO…

  A woeful sound pierced the quiet night.

  Kayla woke with a start. Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face, her heart hammering in her chest. Pushing aside her sheets, she scrambled out of bed. The sound continued, a relentless wailing of someone deep in pain or grief. In the darkness of her room, Kayla padded over to the window, pushed aside the heavy curtain, and glanced outside.

  In their garden, underneath the tall apple tree, stood a woman in a white gown. The wind whipped her long, pale hair about her face that contorted into a grotesque mask. She wailed and wept, her cheeks streaked with red as though she was crying blood instead of tears.

  Kayla’s eyes wa
tered. She wanted to scream for her mommy, but no sound left her throat, and she stared, petrified, at the stranger who looked spectral and unreal in the faint moonlight. The woman brought her hands up to her face, covering it as she fell to her knees, still weeping. The sound was unbearable. Kayla squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands to her ears to keep her eardrums from popping.

  Then the noise ceased as abruptly as it had started.

  Kayla opened her eyes. Instead of the garden, she now faced a snow-covered road. Thick snowflakes whirled through the air, blocking most of the road. But through the mist, Kayla glimpsed a big, bulky shadow. A car? Another shadow, this one much smaller, stood three feet away from it. Who was it?

  All sound died in the white noise of the falling snow. Kayla was frozen all over, down to her core. She tried to move forward, but she was stuck. The human shadow turned toward her and for a second the snow slowed to a drizzle. For a second, she could see the man’s face.

  “Daddy!” she screamed.

  A gust of icy wind swirled up, swallowing her father. Kayla didn’t feel the cold; she was back in her room.

  And the woman was crying again.

  Down in their garden, a black horse burst through the trees. On it sat a man in black clothing, but he didn’t have a head; his torso ended in a bloody hole where the head should have been. When the man halted his horse in front of the now silent woman, two small black eyes gaped at Kayla from the head under his arm. The mouth was contorted into a hideous grin that touched both sides of the head.

  Kayla screamed.

  She shrank back when the rider pulled a whip from his side and flicked it. It made a terrible crack, like bones shattering, and it woke the woman from her sudden trance. Within the blink of an eye, the two eerie figures vanished into the shadows.

  Her whole body trembling, Kayla clambered down the dresser and stumbled through her room into the hallway. She pounded on her mother’s bedroom door, tears streaming down her face.

  “Mommy!”

  Her mother opened the door. “Honey, you know you can just come in if—?”

  “It’s Daddy,” Kayla cried and crashed into her mother. “Please, we have to help him!”

  Warm hands wrapped around Kayla, pulling her closer. “Kayla, your dad’s fine.”

  “No, you don’t understand!” Kayla was sobbing now, with lots of tears and snot. “They will hurt him!”

  “Kayla…”

  “It’s the faeries, they came to take him.”

  Her mother’s hand froze on Kayla’s back for a second, and Kayla felt her mother’s chest rise as she drew in a deep breath. “Shh, no one’s hurting your father,” she said. “Faeries aren’t real.”

  Kayla struggled against her mother’s tight embrace—to no avail. She cried for her daddy and begged her mommy, but she would not listen.

  “He’s fine,” her mother kept saying as she picked up Kayla and tucked her into her bed. Kayla curled into a ball as her mother stroked her hair. “It was a nightmare, nothing else.”

  A nightmare that felt as real as the tears streaking Kayla’s face. The cries of the woman still rang in her ears…

  No, this crying was different.

  “We must’ve woken Theo,” her mother said. She leaned in and placed a kiss on Kayla’s head. “I’m getting your brother. You both can stay with me tonight.”

  “But Daddy…” Kayla’s voice was hoarse, and her throat itched.

  “Your father will be back tomorrow morning. I promise.”

  After her mom had returned with her baby brother, Kayla cuddled up against her mother’s side. It was a nightmare. Her daddy was fine. He’d be back in the morning. Eventually, Kayla drifted off to sleep.

  Dawn broke, but her daddy never came home again.

  11

  THE QUEEN’S BARGAIN

  After a few hours of fitful sleep interrupted by flashing images of the dead pixie, Kayla struggled out of bed. Her head was pounding and the lavender dress stuck to her skin. Her mouth tasted stale. She found a jug of water on her bedside table, poured some of it in a glass, and gulped it down.

  She sat on her bed, watching the first feeble rays of sunlight rise beyond the mountain range outside her window. The floor below her bare feet was cool and soothing. Kayla concentrated on the feeling of it, forcing her brain to accept that she wasn’t still dreaming. This was real. No matter how many times she closed and opened her eyes, it wouldn’t bring her back home. She took another glass of water and sipped.

  Home.

  Her mother and brother.

  And Abby.

  A gaping hole in the shape of her father.

  What would her dad want her to do? If she went back home, she might never find him. To trust the faeries was a risk, but one that could bring her closer to her father. If it were her, he’d take the risk too.

  Kayla wandered into the adjacent bathroom. It had no mirror, which was for the best. After running a comb through her tangled curls and cursing at each knot, she splashed some water onto her face, trying to rub most of the exhaustion from her eyes. She found a fresh dress, similar to the one she wore but with no stains on it.

  When she returned to the main room, the sun had climbed high above the mountain’s peak and glittered off the golden interior. Kayla was squinting against the light when someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” Kayla called.

  It was Fay. Whereas yesterday she had worn a beautiful, green dress worthy of a princess, her outfit today was casual. She was wearing a light-brown woolen dress and a green doublet over it. The floral crown was missing from her head, and she had a pouch slung over her shoulder.

  “We should talk,” Fay said, closing the door behind her. Without waiting for Kayla’s response, she crossed the room and sat down on Kayla’s bed.

  Kayla stood, arms crossed.

  “Yesterday’s revel was cut short,” Fay said, sounding oddly formal. “And I fear we did not have enough time to talk about the queen’s bargain. Do you wish to discuss it now?” She sounded strained, and the way she sat on the bed, rigid and hands clasped in her lap, mirrored that tension.

  “I haven’t made my decision yet,” Kayla said. “But, honestly, I’m having a hard time trusting you. First, you kidnapped me—”

  “We talked about this.”

  “—and at the revel I found out you enchant humans? Sure, Nooa said those tricks don’t work on me, but who’s to say he’s not lying?”

  Fay’s jaw tensed. “What he said was the truth. Faeries cannot lie.”

  “You keep saying that. How do I know that’s true?”

  “It pains us,” Fay said, “like swallowing a mouthful of cold iron. Some have lost their tongues over lying.”

  With a frown, Kayla leaned her hip against the dresser. “I want to find my dad. I do. But you don’t know who sent that acorn and your queen doesn’t either.”

  “We know it is a faerie message,” Fay said. “So whoever sent it is living in Tír na nÓg or has some connection to it. Listen.” She rose to her feet, closing the distance between them. If Kayla reached out a hand, she could touch Fay, could pull her in. Kayla stood still, not taking her eyes off Fay.

  “Queen Ophira has abilities that can help you find your father,” Fay said. “This is her kingdom and she can locate anyone who is related to it. And if she cannot do it, she has plenty of people who can. This is not your world. It is ours. And if you want to find your father here, you have got to trust us.” Fay’s eyes flicked away, then they bore back into Kayla’s. “You have only one clue about where your father is, which is not a lot. You could use our help.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” Kayla said. “But my family…”

  “I get it.” Fay reached out and took one of Kayla’s hands in hers. “Think of what you could gain. And once you find your father, you can return home.”

  Kayla stared at their intertwined hands. A golden ring glimmered on Fay’s left hand. Her skin was smooth, except for the fingertips, which h
ad callouses. Kayla thought about tracing her thumb along those callouses, her touch causing Fay to shiver. The way she’d trembled back in the alley. It had only been brief, but Kayla had noticed it.

  Fay squeezed Kayla’s hand. “If I thought those words held any meaning, I would say I am sorry about the way we met,” she said. “I admit I could have handled it differently, but we do not weep about the past. Either way, you are here now and I can tell how much you want to find your dad. Let me help you.”

  Fay’s eyes were unlike any Kayla had ever seen. They were glowing, two emeralds warmed by the sunlight and radiating that warmth. Kayla tore her gaze away, focusing on Fay’s mouth instead. Her lips were pink, the lower one fuller than the upper lip. They weren’t chapped, but smooth.

  Kayla slipped her hand from Fay’s. “You’re right,” she said. “I could use your help.”

  Queen Ophira was waiting for them back in the throne room. The wooden table from the day before had been removed, and instead Ophira sat on her throne, her green gown flowing around her. On one side stood Fay and Chancellor Pwyll. On the other side was Fionn, and when he glanced at Kayla, she shivered at the memory of the night before.

  As Kayla faced the queen, she touched the watch on her wrist, tracing the crack in the glass with one finger. Nothing was more familiar to her.

  “Have you made your decision?” Ophira asked. Her strained voice betrayed her otherwise calm demeanor.

  “Almost,” Kayla said.

  Ophira tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “If you are still interested in my aid, then we must execute the bargain. Refusing to do so will result in banishment from our lands. You would have to leave at once.”

  “No, I wish to stay,” Kayla said, and her heart thudded in response.

  “Then the conditions remain unchanged. You swear your loyalty to the Seelie Court and I in return shall grant you aid in finding your father.”