Nooa dropped his hands from his face. “When will you realize that we are nothing more than a merchant and a harvester? It is not our place—”
“By Dôn, this again?” Maeve moaned. “It is our court too. We can protect it as well.”
He crossed his arms, frowning at Maeve.
“We need to be more careful,” Fay said. “You could have gotten hurt and it would have been all on me. I can’t let anything happen to you…” She looked from Maeve’s dirty face to Nooa’s frightened one.
And, much too late, it occurred to her how focused she’d been on Kayla. Back at the pier, her mind had always returned to one question: was Kayla safe? She’d relied on Maeve being able to fend for herself, but she shouldn’t have. Even if Maeve liked to practice with the knights, she wasn’t one of them. And Nooa… he’d never been good at fighting.
Fay hadn’t put her people first. She’d been too worried about Kayla, a girl she barely knew, and if she was being honest, she’d been driven by guilt. After dragging Kayla into this world, she’d looked for a way to clear her conscience. And she’d lost sight of the people that mattered.
“We are all right,” Nooa said, placing his hand on Fay’s. His covered Fay’s hand entirely, his long, strong fingers reassuring her. “Are you?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a shrug. “Exhausted, that’s all. Maybe we can find a way to help Ophira without plunging headfirst into the next fight?”
Maeve tapped on the tabletop with her finger. “If that’s what you want. But we’ll have to get some food first. I’m starving!”
“Why, we had such lovely dinner in Chicago!” Nooa teased. Maeve grabbed a wooden bowl from the shelf behind her and flung it his way. He ducked, then burst out laughing.
For the first time in days, Fay laughed out loud too.
16
AT FOOL’S HAND
Back in her room, Kayla flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her body ached and her head throbbed with pain. She thought about taking a nap, but the sun outside her window shone with an unforgivable brightness. They’d left Chicago’s dark night behind to return to the Seelie Court’s daylight.
She tried not to think about how many hours had already passed back in Chicago since they’d gotten back. And she tried not to think of her dad as a captive of the Unseelies, either. To no avail.
Unable to lie still, she hopped out of bed and paced the whole room. The walls might have been made of gold, but it still felt like a prison. They had trapped her, like one of those pretty birds her neighbor kept. One time he went on vacation for a few days and paid Kayla a few bucks to care for his birds. He told her, his finger wagging in her face, to never open the doors of the cage.
It had been tempting to set the birds free, but she’d kept her promise.
Kayla stopped in front of the door. Ophira had said she couldn’t leave the Seelie Court, but she never said Kayla should stay put in her room. She twisted the knob and set off.
The sky was crystal clear, birds were twittering in the trees, and a gentle breeze that smelled like the ocean carried through the court. It couldn’t have been a more peaceful day. Except it wasn’t peaceful at all.
Kayla made her way to the market, which was bustling with people, but the bustling wasn’t the busy kind it had been last time. Faeries were hurrying from one stand to the next, whispering to the merchants and moving on without buying anything.
Kayla caught only snippets.
“Did you hear?”
“It has to be them!”
“In the mortal world, of all places.”
“…can’t be a coincidence…”
As Kayla approached one stand, she drowned out all the whispers and murmurs.
“Looking for something specific?” the woman behind the counter asked. As she smiled, she bared a set of sharp teeth.
“Uh, yes,” Kayla said. “Have you…” She cleared her throat. “Do you know where I might learn more about the Unseelies?”
The woman raised an eyebrow at her. “No.” Her voice had lost its friendly tone. “And you might not want to run around here asking questions like that.” She spun on her heels and greeted the next customer.
More and more Kayla noticed the subdued glances and the occasional nudge of a head toward her. One faerie woman glowered at her, then turned to her companion. “…and enchantments are not working!” she whispered. Her friend gasped, eyes widening on Kayla.
Teeth clenched, Kayla hurried away from the market. She picked up her pace, following crooked paths past wooden houses. The farther she went, the less crowded it was, and eventually there was more nature than civilization. The trees opened up again, into a wide meadow with a massive wooden building leaning against the side of a hill. Out front, knights were training, shooting arrows or wielding swords.
Kayla came to a stop a good distance away from the knights. She sat down by a tree and watched them train. Soon, the reality of the knights blurred, and she was lost in her thoughts of her dad.
When she was little, he had sat with her in the evening to tell her stories. He did that every single day, even on days when he was on a business trip and had to call home to talk to her on the phone. Every day, until the day he had vanished.
In the beginning it was only the two, sitting in a rocking chair in her room. Later, he was holding Kayla’s baby brother in his arms while he talked. He always told stories about the Fair Folk. Humans whisked away by the faeries to a land far from the world they knew. There they would dance all night, their feet never turning sore, and they would eat the most delicious food and drink the sweetest drinks. In the morning, they would wake up, lying face down in a field of flowers.
But this place was far from the stories. There were revels and there was good food and drink. None of the humans would remember, though, because their memories would be wiped for the faeries’ own purpose.
Unlike those humans, Kayla hadn’t returned home after the revel, with no recollection of the faerie world. Unlike them, Kayla might never leave this place. She’d bargained the life she had with her family and Abby for a chance to find her father. And if she didn’t find him…
A sudden gush of cold water pulled Kayla out of her reverie. Before she could find her bearings, there was a sharp tug at her ankle and the world was inverted. She heard laughter, but she couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Her eyes blurred with tears, as the rope that bound her to the branch of the tree cut into her flesh.
“Foolish human,” someone said from below. Kayla couldn’t see him, only his shadow. “You should have left after the revel, like the others.” He laughed again, and a few giggling women joined him.
“Look at her now!” one faerie woman said. “Our enchantments might not work, but our tricks still do.” She cackled like a stupid hen.
They were all stupid. Kayla would’ve told them so if she hadn’t felt like she would puke when she opened her mouth. Her stomach had not liked the sudden upward motion.
“Should we maybe help her a little?” another woman asked. Seconds later, something hard knocked into Kayla’s back and she swung forward. There was more laughter.
Kayla’s head was heavy and hot with all the blood flowing into it and her wet hair pulling her down. Her eyes stung with tears she forced back.
“There must be more we can do,” the faerie man said.
“Uh, I know—”
“Enough!”
A new voice was added to the chorus below Kayla, but this time she saw who it belonged to. A knight was striding toward Kayla and the trickster faeries, a sword clutched in his right hand.
“Lower the girl at once or I will take you to the queen,” the knight said. “And you will do her no more harm!”
Kayla heard feet shuffling and murmured words which were certainly not an apology. They lowered her from the tree, until she was close enough for the faerie knight to gather her in his arms. He put her down on the ground before turning back to the tricksters.
“
Leave now or you will regret it!” he said.
Kayla caught a glimpse of the man and three women before they scuttled off. They seemed just like any other faerie Kayla had seen so far.
Her head spinning, Kayla sank to the ground, rubbing her right ankle where the rope had held her.
“Does it hurt?” the knight asked.
Kayla looked up at her savior. His long brown hair was tied up in the nape of his neck, strands of it coming loose, and revealing pointed ears. But something in his facial features—maybe the slightly crooked nose or the prominent jaw—made him appear less like a faerie. He was also the first male faerie Kayla saw with a big, scruffy beard.
Kayla’s eyes settled on his. “You’re Maeve’s brother.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “What gave it away?” he asked. He sat down beside Kayla, placing his sword across his lap. Apart from a breastplate, his upper body was bare and Kayla could see fading scratches and bruises along his arms.
“The eyes,” Kayla said. “They’re this vibrant color, like…”
“Amber?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“We do not look much alike except for the eyes,” he said. “But I suppose that is a good thing.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I would not be a knight if we shared the same mother,” he said. “I was born to two Seelies, while my sister carries the blood of the merrows. And only pure-bred Seelies are allowed to take the knight’s vow.”
“You’re her half-brother then?”
“One could say so.” His amber eyes narrowed on Kayla. “Are you the human girl Princess Fay found?”
“I guess so,” she said. “My name’s Kayla, but you’ve heard that already, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have,” he said. “I am Oilibhéar. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He made a little bow, which was awkward and sweet at the same time.
Kayla looked out over the meadow. Only a small group of knights remained, chatting to each other. “Will those faeries be punished?” Kayla asked.
“I will not take them to the queen, as I promised, for I believe it will stir even more upheaval. Besides, the queen would not consider this as a punishable crime.”
Kayla hugged her knees to her chest. Her skin was still soaked and her hair dripped water. “Then why did you stop them?” she asked.
“I am simply adhering to Queen Ophira’s order,” Oilibhéar said, tracing a finger along the blade of his sword. “You are under her protection, and therefore, you are under mine.”
Kayla didn’t know how to respond. Even if he would have accepted a thank you, she wasn’t sure she wanted to say it, so she forced a smile onto her face instead. “I think I am heading back now.”
Oilibhéar got to his feet as she did. “May I accompany you?”
“That won’t be necessary.” She offered a clumsy curtsy and hurried away.
On her way back to the Citadel, Kayla walked with her head bowed. Her throat tightened every time a faerie shot her a condescending or skeptical look. That and the dull pain around her ankle were a constant reminder of how unwelcome she was at this court.
She tried to understand why the faeries acted that way. If the Unseelies were as horrible as everybody claimed, they had a right to be scared and to be cautious of who they trusted. But she wasn’t a threat to them. She was a guest of the queen.
When Kayla reached the top of the hill upon which the Citadel stood, she was panting, but she didn’t slow down. She strode right through the entry, her footsteps echoing off the golden tiles, and ascended the stairs to the first floor. If she found Fay’s room, they could talk. They could even hold hands again, like they had underneath the Bean.
Followed by the guards’ watchful eyes, Kayla walked the length of the first floor, and then she climbed up to the second floor. She hadn’t realized how massive the Citadel was. Several staircases led up and down, corridors twisted off left and right, and more doors were locked than open.
Kayla stuck to the staircase she knew, the one that would take her to her own room. When she reached the fourth floor, she heard footsteps and soft laughter. Kayla peered around a corner to the next corridor—and froze.
She’d found Fay. But she wasn’t alone.
The dark-haired girl—Isobel?—pressed Fay up against the wall, kissing her. Fay lifted her hands, running them through Isobel’s long hair. Isobel pulled away, laughing, and pushed open the door beside them. They vanished into the room.
Kayla turned on her heels and ran down the corridor, toward her own room. Panting, she slammed the door shut behind her, grabbed her bag off the nightstand, and pulled out her cellphone. Sinking onto her bed, she waited for it to turn on. Once it did, she opened her chat with Abby. The last message read:
On my way.
She’d sent that message to Abby on that night she met Fay and left her old life behind. It felt like a million years ago, but she hadn’t been away from home for more than two days.
Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, but what was the point of texting Abby when the message would never reach her? Kayla closed the app and opened her photos instead. She clicked on the folder titled favorites. There was a single image in there.
It was poor quality, because her mother had taken it on a flip phone years ago, but that didn’t diminish the broad smile on her father’s face. He was kneeling on the ground, his baseball uniform stained from the game and his baseball cap crooked. He was hugging eight-year-old Kayla to his side.
That day, he’d scored a home run. His team had won for the first time in years. And a few months later, Kayla’s dad vanished.
She closed her eyes, forcing back the tears. If only he were here with her… or Abby… or her brother…
Or her mother. What would she say if she knew where Kayla was?
When Kayla had first started to look for faeries, they were still living in their old house out in the country. Her mother had gotten so mad at her for sneaking off into the woods. “Those were stories,” she had said. “Faeries don’t exist.”
Then they had moved from a small town in the middle of Illinois to the bustling city of Chicago. Still, it hadn’t been as lonely as she was now, because this was not a different city. It was a different world inhabited by a different species. A species fond of humans, but only as long as it benefited them.
Tears welled up in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks as her heart ached for home.
17
FIVE YEARS AGO…
Kayla pushed the door to the bookstore open, and the shop owner called out a friendly hello. Kayla returned the greeting and hurried to the back of the store. Any other clerk would have stopped her and asked where her parents were. But not Ms. Pinderhughes, at least not anymore.
The shelves in the back were overflowing with second-hand children’s books. In one corner stood a small table with even smaller chairs, and toys lay scattered all around. Kayla stepped over a stuffed animal and a toy train to reach the shelf with the picture books.
“Need any help, dear?”
Kayla glanced back at Ms. Pinderhughes. The elderly woman wore thick glasses that magnified her eyes threefold, making her look like a startled owl. She wore her bright red hair in a pile on top of her head.
“I’m looking for a book for my brother,” Kayla said. “It’s his birthday next week.”
“Is it? How wonderful! What kind of book do you want?”
Kayla tugged at the fringe of her scarf. “A fairytale.”
“Like Beauty and the Beast? Or Snow White?” Ms. Pinderhughes asked.
“No, more like…” Kayla bounced on her heels. Maybe this had been a stupid idea. Her mother would never approve, but it was Theo’s big day, not hers. “I want a book about faeries,” she finally blurted out. “But not like tiny ones with wings and glitter. Tall ones, like humans, but…”
Her gaze trailed along the floor toward the adult section she never entered.
Ms. Pinderhughes chuckled.
“Oh, I know just the one, dear.” She leaned forward and rifled through the shelf of picture books. “How do you like it?”
Kayla stood on her tiptoes to see. On the cover was a golden-haired woman, captured in a dance, among trees and flowers. In front of her was a pond, its surface reflecting her pale face and pointed ears.
“Here, have a look,” Ms. Pinderhughes said and offered the book to Kayla, who pulled it close. “It’s a beautiful story, one my father used to read to me when I was little.”
Kayla leafed through the book, catching glimpses of different drawings. It was the same woman as on the cover and a dark-haired boy. After skimming a few lines, Kayla was convinced. She knew the story as well.
Her dad had told it to her.
Kayla hugged the book close to her chest. “It’s perfect!” She rummaged in the pocket of her coat and pulled out a five-dollar bill. “Is that enough?”
Ms. Pinderhughes didn’t take the money. “For you, my dear, it’s a gift.”
Kayla was so giddy inside that she nearly crushed Ms. Pinderhughes with a gigantic hug. As she left the bookstore, she repeated “thank you” again and again.
On the bus ride home, Kayla cradled the book in her arms. To everyone else, she was just a girl with a book. But to her, she was the luckiest girl who had found a long lost treasure.
When Kayla entered their living room, she found Theo sitting on the couch and watching TV. As soon as he noticed her, he sailed off the couch and crashed into her in the most awkward hug. “What is that? You’re holding something! Show me.” He grabbed for the book Kayla was hiding behind her back.
“But it’s not your birthday yet,” Kayla said.
Theo’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “Can I have it now? Please, please, please.”
Kayla laughed and handed him the book. “I don’t think many people know this story, but I do,” she said as Theo slumped onto the floor, the book propped open in his lap. “Our daddy told it to me.”
Seelie Princess (The Crown of Tír na nÓg Book 1) Page 14