A visible shudder rippled through Nooa and his face grew even darker. Maeve’s eyes darted to him.
“Her name was Morrígan,” she said, “and she was controlling the Wild Hunt, who she sent out into the mortal world to steal the souls of humans. She and her army had to be stopped, as they were wrongfully abusing human souls and causing havoc in Tír na nÓg. And so Dôn and Llyr were forced to fight together. According to the story, Dôn had the Treasures of Light made, the only instruments capable of defeating Morrígan.”
“And did they succeed?” Fay asked. She’d heard whispers about Morrígan, the Goddess of Death before, but no one had ever told her the whole story.
“Of course they did,” Maeve said. “They banished Morrígan to Uffern, and all the Giants vanished after that. Supposedly, they spread the Treasures of Light throughout Tír na nÓg before leaving forever.”
“But no one has found them?”
“Not to our knowledge,” Maeve said. “Some say the stone embedded in the Crown of Tír na nÓg is the same stone that is mentioned in the poem. But neither King Arawn nor Queen Ophira have ever affirmed that rumor.” She looked at Fay, who averted her gaze.
It wasn’t her place to say anything about the crown. She knew it gave Ophira clairvoyance, but that was what most people suspected.
Her gaze shifted to the papers. “And what about this?”
“We’re not familiar with this language,” Maeve said, tracing a line on the paper with her finger. “But I guess this part here is about the sword. The symbols here resemble some that I have seen in my father’s forgery before. And the ones over here might be a hint to its whereabouts.”
Fay considered the words on the pages for a while. Although she had seen nothing like them, there was a resonance. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had a memory of seeing something like this before. But she could not guess where.
There was a sudden rustle of leaves, and all three turned toward the entrance. Laughter rang out and the shadows of feet running by appeared for a moment.
Maeve slumped down on a chair, dragging a hand through her loose green hair.
“But how will this help us?” Fay asked.
“If the Treasures of Light were strong enough to defeat the Goddess of Death, then they should help us get rid of Titania, too.” Maeve picked up a sheet of paper, frowning. “I guess all we need is the sword. Or perhaps the spear.”
Fay glanced over Maeve’s shoulder at the paper. “There are a lot of old history books up at the Citadel. It’s Ophira’s collection, but we could have a look around, I think.”
“That’s a start. Can we look now?” Maeve asked. She was quick to gather all the papers and the book and shove them into her pouch. When Fay didn’t respond, she added, “It’s not like we have anything else to do.”
Fay groaned. “But I’ve been at the Citadel all day.”
“You know, I’m sure I can find my way in,” Maeve said with a shrug and vanished through the doorway.
Nooa leaned into Fay, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Come on,” he said. “Before she angers Queen Ophira. Again.”
They followed Maeve outside, where the air smelled of rain, and Fay knew that soon the season would change. When Fay had first arrived at the Seelie Court, she’d been confused by the lack of measuring time in days and weeks and months. Now she was so used to it and could already tell when a new season would start.
As they climbed the path up to the Citadel, a figure came running toward them. Fay saw a flash of pink hair and wondered what had gotten into Deirdre, who was flinging her arms about.
“Princess Fay!” Deirdre stopped before them, panting. “I did not want to bother Queen Ophira, b-but I had to tell someone…” She drew in a deep breath. “I saw Kayla… heading for the forest.”
Fay grabbed Deirdre by the arm, steadying her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am certain. She was alone.”
When Fay turned to Maeve, she was groaning.
“Fine, I’ll get my bow.”
“No, wait! I’ll go alone.”
Maeve frowned. “Are you nuts? It’s already close to nightfall. You don’t know what’s lurking in those woods.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Fay’s gaze traveled to Nooa. “You might get hurt.”
“So could you,” Nooa said. “Maeve and I got your back, okay?”
Fay grappled for a way out, but Maeve had already turned on her heels and was striding down the hill.
“Come on, or I’ll save the damsel on my own!”
21
TRIAL AND ERROR
The trees had swallowed most of the fading sunlight and Kayla stumbled through the dimming forest. Perhaps she should have waited for the next day.
But she was sick of waiting.
She pushed onward, dodging low-hanging branches and avoiding roots poking up from the ground. Tiny insects whirred through the air and buzzed close by. A cool wind rustled the leaves on the trees as the last notes of the day’s birdsong echoed around her.
This forest reminded Kayla of the one close to her old house and her body thrummed with recognition, ready to leap into a sprint. She’d loved racing through the forest, giggling and panting, her dad always just a few feet behind. He could’ve caught up to her with ease, but he let her run, ready to help her back to her feet if she fell.
Her mom had tutted at the sight of grass stains on Kayla’s pants, and her dad had only shrugged, pulling Kayla to his side for a hug.
That was something this forest was missing. Her dad.
The farther she went, the more difficult it became to squeeze between trees. At some point, she had to crouch down and crawl through some bushes. When she emerged on the other side, she found a little clearing. Two large boulders, overgrown with colorful mushrooms, stood on one end and behind that she could glimpse the outlines of a little trail.
Eyes locked on that trail, Kayla staggered forward. Once she climbed one of those boulders, she’d be back on track. If that trail led to some inhabited place.
The snap of a twig cut through the silence of the clearing. Kayla spun around but saw nothing other than trees and bushes. Then another snap, this time louder and closer. Something grabbed Kayla’s wrist, and she screamed.
A thick vine snaked around her arm and she followed it back to the tree it was coming from. Her voice died in her throat.
It wasn’t a tree.
But it wasn’t a person either.
The thing in front of her was at least a head taller, its body a chaos of wooden limbs and vine-like arms. It had a face, in a way. Two dark holes, each the size of a coin, and a deep slit were etched into the bark. The slit widened, revealing a set of sharp teeth.
Another vine shot forth and wrapped around Kayla’s other wrist.
She stumbled back, trying to pull her arms free, but the grip of the creature only tightened. It was swaying in the breeze, floating like a leaf, and its rustling sound joined that of the trees surrounding it. Kayla’s knees trembled, but she forced her legs to keep steady. Her chest felt empty, all the air drawn from her lungs.
Two more vines closed around her ankles and pulled her to the forest floor. The impact brought tears to her eyes and she screamed, but the sound that left her throat was weak. No one would be able to hear it. Lying on her back, she caught a glimpse of the rising moon visible between the leaves. Then the shadow of the creature cast darkness upon her.
Vines crisscrossed over her body, tying her to the ground. She thrashed left and right, but the vines were so strong she couldn’t move an inch. The pouch pressed into her side, filled with the only things she had left: her phone and the acorn. With a start, she remembered the vial she’d taken from Dahlia’s, and she tried to wriggle her arm free, but to no avail.
The tree creature was out of sight, but she could feel it, all over her body, slowly consuming her. Her feet had gone numb and soon her arms and chest would follow. Tears ran down her cheeks, unchecked, as a vine slid around her throa
t, pulled taut. Kayla gasped, then coughed. Dark spots danced on her retinas.
This was it.
She was going to die, and it was her own fault.
Someone howled with pain and she wondered if it had been her. If she’d somehow uttered one last cry. Then the vines fell away and air flooded Kayla’s lungs once again. She took a painful breath, coughing and wheezing, and pressed one hand to her chest. Her ears buzzed as she struggled to focus her vision.
“Kayla? Kayla!”
A face appeared above her. She blinked and the murky smudge turned into Nooa. “She is alive!” he called over his shoulder. “Can you get up?” He held out a hand and helped her sit up.
On the opposite side of the clearing, the creature was howling and flailing its long limbs. Two smaller figures were driving it back. Fay pointed a sword at it and Maeve had an arrow nocked in her bow, ready to shoot. As they advanced, the creature retreated until it had vanished into the shade of the tree canopy.
Maeve kept her bow high, staring after the creature, but Fay sheathed her weapon and turned around. Her eyes fell on Kayla on the ground and she expelled a heavy sigh.
With the creature gone, the forest was quiet again.
After another few seconds, Maeve lowered her bow. “That’ll teach it a lesson.”
Fay’s eyes narrowed on Kayla. “What were you thinking? Running off into the Whispering Woods like that! Do you know what that was?”
Kayla shook her head. It was all she could do. She wasn’t sure her voice would ever come back.
“A Dryad. And they don’t like it when someone disturbs their peace.” Fay swore under her breath, raking one hand through her tousled hair. Kayla had never seen her so flustered. “Why, Kayla? Why did you run off?”
Once more Kayla’s eyes brimmed with tears. A heavy lump was lodged in her throat and her chest still ached with every breath.
“You know I must tell the queen about this,” Fay said.
“No,” Kayla croaked.
“Then tell me why you disobeyed her orders and left the court unattended!”
“I…” Kayla’s throat was raw and itchy and she swallowed against the pain. “I need… to find… my dad.”
Fay’s shoulders slumped and the frown on her face vanished. She looked almost devastated, but it was difficult to tell. The sun had set behind the mountains and the only light in the clearing was that of the lantern Nooa had by his side.
Maeve groaned. “Are you serious? I risked my life, and what for? You haven’t seen your father in years, and all you’ve got is that stupid acorn to go on.” Fay shot Maeve a glare, but she kept going. “And yet you’re foolish enough to go looking for a ghost in the depth of the Whispering Woods!”
Kayla forced back the tears. “He’s… alive.”
“But how do you know?” Maeve was shouting now and Fay shushed her.
Fueled by the need to stand up to Maeve, Kayla staggered to her feet. She swayed on her weak legs and Nooa reached out to steady her.
“I have hope,” she said, chin held high. “It’s what helped me carry on.”
“It’s stupid.” Maeve crossed her arms in front of her chest and faced Fay. “Let’s take her to the queen.”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t,” Fay said.
“Have you all gone mad? You know you have to tell her. You said it yourself.”
“Yes, but…”
Fay glanced over at Kayla, a pair of green eyes gleaming in the darkness. Even in the lantern’s dim light, Kayla could make out the conflicted look on Fay’s face. It reminded her of that time Abby had accidentally ripped a page in Kayla’s favorite book and had been too scared to tell her for a week.
“See? You can’t come up with a good reason,” Maeve said. “We’re taking her to the queen.” After shouldering her bow, she disappeared among the trees.
Nooa offered Kayla an apologetic shrug and then guided her out of the clearing. On their walk back, Fay didn’t look at Kayla or speak to her even once.
Kayla ached all over and had to drag her feet all the way to the Citadel.
Once they were inside, they heard loud voices carry down the hallway. They followed the cacophony all the way to the third level, where the heavy oak door leading to the throne room was propped open.
“Should we come back another time?” Nooa asked. He had several leaves stuck in his charcoal hair. Maeve, at his side, didn’t have as much as a scratch. She’d stashed her bow outside the Citadel to avoid angering the queen again.
Fay stepped forward, peering into the room, and the others followed her lead.
The throne room was more crowded than Kayla had ever seen. Faeries and pookas alike had gathered in front of the throne, talking over each other. There were only a few people who Kayla recognized. Queen Ophira was on her feet, her cheeks flushed and her hair disheveled. As she spoke, her voice was drowned by the clamor. To her right stood Rhydian, a grim expression on his face.
Opposite of her was a horned man Kayla had seen before, at the revel. He was also standing, flinging his arms about in wild gestures. Beside him was a man who had darker skin and a pair of long black-furred ears.
“Enough!” the horned man cried. His voice reverberated off the walls and everyone fell silent. “We tried to solve this amenably by coming here, to our queen, and begging for help. But we have had enough. The Seelies have disgraced us too many times, and I no longer care for the consequences.”
Ophira straightened, adjusting her crown. “What are you implying, Cadfael?”
“That the Treaty of Blackpond is null and void,” he said. A few astonished looks appeared on the faces of both Seelies and pookas. “Whatever agreement my ancestors had with your father, they belong to the past. The pookas will no longer bow to the Seelie Queen.”
“This is ridiculous,” Pwyll said. “With the danger we are facing, it would be unwise to take this step.”
“The danger we are facing?” Cadfael pulled his lips into a sneer. “My people are out there, unprotected, while you hide in your precious little court. All because you won’t admit the truth, Ophira.”
Rhydian leaped forward, drew his sword in one quick motion, and pointed its tip toward the pooka. “Do not ever speak to the queen like that!”
“Son, leave him.” Pwyll reached out to hold back Rhydian’s arm.
“And what is that truth?” Ophira asked.
“Your sister,” Cadfael said. “You have no other choice but to admit she has returned.”
Ophira shut her eyes for a moment, a crease forming between her brows. Then she opened them again, her gaze latched onto Cadfael like the stormy sea on drowning men. “My sister is none of your concern. You are not to engage—”
Cadfael thrust the flat end of his spear into the ground, the sound of the impact echoing through the room. “We are done listening to you.” With a growl, he turned to leave.
“Cadfael!”
At once, everyone stopped moving, and Cadfael spun back at the queen.
“You cannot change my mind,” he said.
Ophira rose from her throne, her wings spread wide, and stared down at Cadfael. “I must beseech you to reconsider,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “The truth is, we do not know where my sister is, but she has shown, more than once, that she is willing to murder our people. And before you object, your people are mine too. If you abide by the law and swear to uphold our treaty, I will assure safety to all of Tír na nÓg.” She stepped from the podium and approached Cadfael with open arms. “Do you pledge your fealty to this kingdom?”
For a moment, no one spoke. Kayla saw Cadfael exchange a glance with his men before bowing his head.
“‘The Queen is the Law, the Law is the Queen.’”
He strode off without another word, followed by his men. Neither of the pookas paid attention to the group huddling outside the door. Kayla watched them vanish down the corridor and then gazed back inside the throne room.
No one moved. They all wore somber expressions on thei
r faces.
“Your Highness,” Pwyll said after a while. “May I call for the council?”
Ophira slumped down on her throne, the tips of her wings drooping. “Yes, Chancellor,” she said. “And bring me some wine.”
As the people dispersed, Maeve took Kayla by the arm, shoving her.
“Wait,” Fay said. “I should speak to Ophira first.” She weaved her way through the room and leaned in close to Ophira. They spoke in whispers, touching each other’s hand, and for the first time since Kayla had met them, they looked like they shared a deep bond. Like a real mother and daughter.
When Fay beckoned them to follow, Maeve and Nooa ushered Kayla into the room.
Fionn, beside the queen, studied them with a wary gaze as they approached. Kayla shuddered at the memory of their conversation and focused on the maid hurrying toward the throne, holding out a gilded goblet. Ophira accepted it and held it clasped in her hands.
Ophira’s crown was askew on her head. Exhaustion and despair darkened her face. She would have circles underneath her eyes, if that were something faeries could suffer from.
Ophira tipped her head and lifted the goblet to sip. Then she cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “You have been asking my people about the Unseelies.” All the weariness had been washed away, and her voice sounded stern and finite.
Kayla glanced at Fay, who gave a quick nod. “Um… yes.”
“It seems I must remind you of the bargain you agreed to,” Ophira said. “You must not return to your family nor reach out to them. You must not leave this court unless I allow you to do so. And you must not go look for your father yourself.” She leaned forward, her gaze forcing Kayla to retreat a step. “This includes asking questions about the Unseelies.”
“But I—”
“You must not look for the Unseelies yourself. It is far too dangerous. I will not continue to offer my aid if you do not comply, and then you may never find your father.”
Heat shot into Kayla’s cheeks. Fists clenched, she stared at the queen, willing herself to withstand the scrutinizing glare. “I’ve agreed to your terms and stuck to your rules the best as I could. But I—” Kayla broke off with a choke.
Seelie Princess (The Crown of Tír na nÓg Book 1) Page 17