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

by Sarah Tanzmann

  Fay averted her gaze and Maeve was busy ignoring her. But Nooa grabbed a corner of the paper and gently removed it from Kayla’s grasp. “Almost,” he said. “Time in the mortal world does not correlate with time in Tír na nÓg. What feels like a few hours in our realm will be much longer here. In some rare cases, it might be the other way around, like in your father’s story. It is quite arbitrary, actually.”

  Kayla lowered her arms. “Why didn’t you say something?” she yelled, not looking at anyone in particular.

  If it had been that long… the night she left was still so clear in her mind. Of course it was; it had only been two days ago. But to the people she had left behind, it had been more than a month.

  She’d left Abby standing in that club without a word of where she was going. Poor Theo had to wake up to his sister missing. And her mother… Kayla had promised to text her the next day, but she never did. She never came back home, just like her father. Kayla could picture her mother, sitting at home, making phone calls to all the authorities, police stations, and hospitals. Her mother had always been practical, even when Kayla’s father vanished.

  Maybe she had stayed busy so as not to miss him as much as Kayla did.

  “Come on, get going!” Maeve cut through Kayla’s thoughts.

  “No,” Kayla said, her voice quivering. The urge to burst into tears was overwhelming, but that wouldn’t solve her problems right now. “I need to make a phone call.” She turned and strode toward the main street.

  Fay hurried after her and forced Kayla to stop with her grip tight on Kayla’s arm. “You will do no such thing,” she said.

  Kayla struggled against Fay’s grasp. “I have to,” she said. “They need to know I’m okay.”

  “Ophira will let them know, but you cannot talk to them. That bargain you made is strong magic. You would not even be able to come here if I had not brought you. And you knew what you were getting into.”

  “I never knew I’d miss that much of their lives!” Kayla pulled back to free herself, but Fay’s narrow eyes rooted her to the spot. “Don’t you understand? I never thought I’d be gone for so long. I’ve already been away for a month… How much is it going to be the next time?”

  Fay was silent for a second, her gaze focused on the ground. “I know this must be difficult,” she said, completely void of sympathy, “but that is what you agreed to. If you wish to find your father, you must adhere to the queen’s wishes.”

  Now Kayla was the one averting her gaze. Every inch of her wanted to argue how stupid the queen’s request was, but she knew it would be to no avail. It was the price she had to pay.

  “It’s not too late,” Fay said, softer. “The bargain can still be undone, if I talk to the queen. You could return to your family.”

  “But without my father?”

  “Yes,” Fay said. “I want to help you but I can’t if we go against Ophira. Do you wish to continue?”

  Kayla wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her elbows. “What about my friend? Can I at least tell Abby I’m okay?” she asked, but Fay’s set jaw was enough answer. “Fine. Let’s keep going.” Her voice wavered with doubt, and Fay offered her a weak smile.

  “Finally!” Maeve said and ushered them through the crowd of tourists and locals onto Michigan Avenue.

  Kayla glanced up the street. A few blocks north of here was Abby’s apartment. Would she be home? Kayla hadn’t checked the newspaper for the weekday, but she thought it was a Friday. Abby would be at school. Kayla didn’t even want to think about all the hours she’d miss at school, ruining her chances of getting into a good university.

  Her mother would be furious on so many levels.

  They turned onto East Madison Street and Kayla focused on what lay ahead. If finding her father would take longer than she’d expected, at least in the eyes of Abby and her family, there was no more time to lose.

  “We’re here,” Fay said after a few minutes, and Kayla drew up short.

  They were facing a skyscraper with large windows, behind which people were staring at computer screens and hammering away on keyboards.

  An incredibly ordinary place for someone who could do magic.

  Then Kayla looked closer and saw a much smaller building jammed between that skyscraper and another one. It appeared out of place, the front of the two-story building overflowing with pots of flowers. Two grimy windows that blurred the interior were on either side of a shabby wooden door. Above that hung a crooked sign that read: The Windy Flower. Dahlia’s Flower Shop.

  Fay pushed the door open. A tiny bell rang when they entered and the scent of lavender and marigold, of grass and soil, hit Kayla where she stood. It would have overwhelmed her if she hadn’t spent the night in the wilderness of the Seelie Court.

  It wasn’t something she would have expected to find in downtown Chicago.

  All kinds of greenery were overflowing in their pots, slithering down the legs of tables. Flowers had cracked their containers and were scattered all over the place. Kayla lifted her foot high to avoid stepping in a heap of soil. Vines and ivy tangling from the ceiling blocked out most of the artificial light. It was so gloomy inside that Kayla only saw the shadow of the woman standing behind the counter.

  “What brings you here, children of the Fair Folk?” she asked.

  “Queen Ophira sends us,” Fay said.

  The woman leaned forward, arms propped on the counter so that the flickering light on the ceiling illuminated her face. She was young and beautiful, with pale green eyes and long ginger hair. Large tapered ears coated in red fur, like a cat’s, stuck out between her curls.

  “What is it this time?” she said. “Want me to undo a Glamor? Have you tricked the wrong human again? Or did you give one of them faerie food and now he’s all gaga?” She gave a flick of her hand, clicking the abundance of bangles she wore.

  “It was one time,” Maeve said. “And he’s fine now, okay? I checked on him.”

  Nooa gave her a sidelong glance. “He still thinks he is a duck. I saw him skinny-dipping in a pond the last time we were in Chicago. He was quacking and flapping his arms.”

  Maeve shrugged and then turned away to poke at some plants.

  “As hilarious as that night might have been,” Fay said, dryly, “it is not the concern of our visit. This here, Kayla, she is the reason we are here.”

  Her gaze settling on Kayla, Dahlia came around the counter. She was about Kayla’s height but had a much ampler figure, her chest almost too full for her flowery apron. As Dahlia’s eyes swept Kayla from top to bottom, Kayla noticed that her pupils were slits.

  “Interesting,” Dahlia said. She placed her hand on Kayla’s arm. “We’d better take this upstairs. Would you care for some tea? Coffee?”

  “Tea would be fine,” Kayla said.

  Beside the counter hung a bead curtain that tinkled as Dahlia guided Kayla and the others through it and into a narrow hallway. A set of crooked, saggy stairs led upward. There was a railing but it looked moldy and dry, as though it would crumble at the tiniest touch. Back here, it still smelled like flowers. At the top of the stairs was another door, which Dahlia thrust open.

  “Grab yourselves a seat while I set up the kettle,” she said.

  The apartment was one wide space crammed with an old, tattered sofa and two leather chairs of the same condition, countless bookshelves overflowing with books and peculiar objects, and tables, big and small, loaded with flowers in pots that looked like cauldrons.

  Kayla maneuvered through the crowded space while Dahlia busied herself in the dinky kitchenette in the far corner.

  Maeve collapsed into a chair and smirked at Kayla as if in triumph before she faced Dahlia again. “I see not a lot has changed around here,” she said.

  Nooa settled in the chair beside her, crossing one lanky leg over the other. His knees reached almost up under his chin.

  “Is that so?” Dahlia asked. “It has been quite some time though since you’ve last visited me. And yet you lot don
’t seem to have aged a day!” She threw back her head and laughed.

  Maeve grinned back at her, flipping her long braid over her shoulder.

  It sparked a thought in Kayla’s mind. If time passed differently in Tír na nÓg, how old were Fay, Nooa, and Maeve? She’d never asked, given that they looked about her age. Now that she knew that a year in Tír na nÓg wasn’t a year in the mortal world, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

  Fay sat on the sofa and Kayla joined her. The work desk that stood beside them was cluttered with dirty papers, tiny glass vials containing herbs, and a mortar and pestle.

  Dahlia placed a tray on the low coffee table, pushing aside papers and flowers in pots. “I would usually expect a thank you for the tea,” she said, “but I know how your Folk ticks.” She sat on a low wooden stool and helped herself to a cup of tea.

  Maeve shot her a displeased glare but said nothing.

  “The queen has not told you we would come, then?” Fay asked. She filled her own cup with tea and picked it up. Steam was rising from it and the smell of pungent fall spices drifted toward Kayla.

  Something cawed, followed by a blurry flash hissing through the air. A raven landed on Dahlia’s shoulder, picking at its black feathers with its beak. Dahlia gave it a pat on the head. “Actually, the queen did send a message,” she said. “Bran here has informed me about your visit. He’s told me that Kayla is in search for some answers.” Then she smiled and Kayla saw that her upper canines were long and sharp, like a feline’s. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  Kayla scooted to the edge of her seat, gripping her knees with her hands. “I-I’m looking for my father. He was taken by faeries.”

  Dahlia raised an eyebrow and beckoned to Fay. “These?”

  “No, it wasn’t a faerie of the Seelie Court,” Kayla said.

  “How about you start from the beginning, dear?”

  Kayla blushed. “Okay, yes,” she said, and took a quick breath before continuing. “About nine years ago, my father vanished. I was told he died in a car accident, but I never believed that because…” She rubbed her sweaty palms against her thigh. “He had always talked about the Fair Folk and I knew they’d taken him. Two days ago—no, it’s a month ago?” The last bit came out as a question. Time was passing too fast; it couldn’t be real. But Fay was nodding along to Kayla’s words, so Kayla continued. “I got a message.”

  “What kind of message?”

  “A faerie acorn,” Fay said. “Kayla received it from an unknown faerie, and it said that Kayla’s father was still alive.”

  Dahlia’s eyes rested on Fay for a second, and something subtle seemed to pass between them. Then Dahlia sat her cup back down on the table. “If your father is truly alive,” she said, “there’s only one way for me to find him. I will need to tap into your mind to establish a connection with him.” As she stood, the raven on her shoulder cackled in protest.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to look for the faerie who sent the message?” Kayla asked. “There was an emblem on it. Maybe if we can find out who it belongs to…” She turned to Fay, who was twisting the ring on her left hand without looking at it.

  “You heard Queen Ophira. That faerie is not one of us,” Fay said. “To try and find a faerie like that… we would have to search all of Tír na nÓg. It would take ages to scour the land.”

  “There’s no quicker way—?”

  “And it would be incredibly dangerous. No, this is not an option.”

  “Fay is right, my dear,” Dahlia said. “You share no connection with that faerie messenger. I can’t locate the sender, but I can find your father. You are his blood.”

  “Okay…” Kayla said. She didn’t quite understand how her blood could bring her any closer to her father, but it was worth a try. “So what do I have to do?”

  “Sit still for now,” Dahlia said. She went to her worktable and emptied several glass vials into the mortar. Then, she took hold of the pestle and started crushing the ingredients. “Would you mind handing me that cup?” Dahlia asked, gesturing to the table.

  With a frown, Maeve grabbed an empty teacup and tossed it over to Dahlia. She snatched it out of the air, placed it on the table, and poured the ingredients into it. Then, she picked up the kettle from the kitchen counter and filled the cup with steaming water.

  “Here, drink this,” she said.

  Kayla sniffed. The liquid was giving off an obtrusive smell that reminded Kayla of burned plastic and made her gag.

  Dahlia propped her hand onto her hip. “It’s not as bad as it smells,” she said. “The herbs will open your mind.” Kayla raised an eyebrow, lips parting. “And before you ask,” she said, “no, there’s no other way to do this.”

  Kayla crinkled her nose at the concoction that looked as though it had come straight from the gutter.

  “Dahlia knows what she’s doing,” Fay said with an assuring nod. “It’ll be all right.”

  Kayla drew in air and, holding her breath, emptied the cup in one big gulp. She cringed and coughed, but luckily it stayed down.

  “I guess I could have thrown in more honeysuckles.” Dahlia shrugged and sat beside Kayla. “Now, this part could speed up the process. Do you have anything with you that belonged to your father?”

  Kayla glanced down at her watch. “Yes, why?”

  “May I place my hand on it while we do this? It will help me establish a connection to your father.”

  “Okay, but be careful.” Kayla held out her arm with reluctance and Dahlia closed a hand around her wrist.

  “Laced with cold iron?” Dahlia asked, her furred ears twitching. Kayla could hear Maeve swear under her breath. “All right, fine by me. We should begin. The concoction will take effect any second now.”

  On cue, Kayla was overcome by a sudden dizziness. She shut her eyes. Voices came through cotton, but Kayla couldn’t care less what they were saying. The world was spinning, going way too fast for her to catch up, and all she wanted was to lie down. Hands pressed against her shoulders, shoving her into a flat position.

  “What have you done to her?”

  Kayla couldn’t match the voice to a speaker. Cold fingers touched her temples and within the flash of a second, the rest of the world was drowned out.

  Blurred images sped past Kayla’s inner eye, black and white, as if played by an old recorder. It was impossible to get a hold on one. They slipped through Kayla’s mind as sand through fingers.

  Then they slowed, becoming more discernible, and Kayla recognized a few familiar faces: her mother, kissing her goodnight; Theo playing baseball for the first time and their mother crying because their father was missing it; Abby grinning at her on the day they met. Her father…

  There was a constant noise in the background, high and sweet, and it grew louder as the images changed. The black-and-white colors were replaced by a vivid green and, as it shifted further, a forest materialized before Kayla. The noise changed too, and it became the singing voice of a woman, ringing out from all directions.

  Kayla’s heart ached for the melody, and she imagined paddling toward it, into the memory, to find out who was singing to her. But she couldn’t move. An invisible barrier was holding her back.

  Then the memory dissolved like a broken film reel, turned into tiny fragments that crumbled until they were nothing but dust.

  Gasping for air, Kayla jolted into a sitting position. Faces were staring down at her, worry on most, annoyance on another.

  “I thought you’d finally shut her up,” Maeve said. She fell back into her chair with a huff.

  A thin film of sweat covered Kayla’s skin, sticking her hair to her neck. Heart pounding, she searched her surroundings for Fay’s face and found her crouching on the floor, holding Kayla’s hand so tight it almost hurt.

  “Fay…”

  “What did you see?” Fay asked. Her eyes were wide with curiosity and something else, maybe fear.

  “I-I…” What had she seen? And more importantly, who had she heard? She looked to Dahlia for an exp
lanation.

  Dahlia had sunk back into her chair. Her brow was furrowed and her hair plastered to her face with sweat. “Neither of us has seen much,” she said and wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand. Her gaze met Kayla’s, dull and exhausted. “There’s a strong magic on you. I can feel it is wearing off, but it has disfigured some of your memories. If I can’t sense your father in your mind, I won’t be able to trace him.”

  “How—”

  A phone rang out somewhere and Dahlia stumbled into the kitchenette to answer the call.

  Kayla faced the others. Maeve was fiddling with an arrow from her quiver. “A total waste of time,” she said. “If we head back now, then perhaps I can still go to the practice grounds.”

  “Go back?” Kayla asked. “No, I need answers first.” She was shaking all over and tried to focus on Fay’s steady grip on her hand.

  “Well, too bad,” Maeve said.

  “You should not sneak back into training again, though,” Nooa piped up from the back of the room. He was inspecting some of Dahlia’s artifacts, picked up a heavy book with yellowed pages, then dropped it again with a look of disgust. “That stinks.”

  “Maybe of cat piss?” Maeve laughed but stopped abruptly under Fay’s cold glare. “It’s not too farfetched.”

  Dahlia slammed the phone back down. “I will have to ask you to leave.”

  “I was just joking,” Maeve said, but her voice didn’t carry even a hint of remorse.

  Dahlia’s cat eyes darted between the four. “There’s been a change of plans. A friend requires my help at the Navy Pier.”

  Fay dropped Kayla’s hand and leaped to her feet. “What is it?” When Dahlia didn’t answer, Fay said, “If this has anything to do with the Seelie Court, you must tell me at once.”

  “It’s faeries,” Dahlia said. “But they aren’t of the Seelie Court.”

  13

  HALLOWEEN SCARE

  Kayla watched as Maeve gathered her bow and Nooa rose to block her way.