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

by Sarah Tanzmann

  In this moment, Kayla could see vulnerability in Fay’s slender body.

  Glowing sunlight filtered through the cracks in the stone building, illuminating Fay’s face in just the right places. It highlighted the way her cheekbones curved, soft and rosy, and Kayla noticed her pointed ears were slightly less tapered than those of other faeries. She wondered why, but she didn’t dare to break the silence.

  Every once in a while, Fay looked up, smiled, and then returned to her work. Neither of them spoke for the longest time and Kayla savored that silence. She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask Fay, but they all had to wait. If she asked them, then the spell might break, and she didn’t want to risk that. Kayla and Fay were alone for a change, not rushed by Unseelies or revels or finding Kayla’s dad.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed for a moment like this.

  By the time Fay put down the graver, tiny beads of sweat covered her forehead. Kayla had wanted to tell her to stop a million times before, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want to miss even a second of watching Fay, seeing how she changed when she was working.

  Kayla inched closer to Fay but kept an arm’s length of distance between them as she leaned in to look at the dagger. Where the hilt had been blank before, a fine pattern of flowers and leaves was winding around it now. Even with her non-existent knowledge of art, Kayla knew that she was looking at it.

  She stared at Fay. “You never told me you’re an artist!”

  Now Fay was beaming at Kayla, a look of satisfaction on her face. “Just one more thing,” she said and walked over to another table. After some rummaging, she returned with an oblong leather object—a scabbard, Kayla realized. Fay slid the blade into the scabbard and then held it out to Kayla. “It’s all yours now.”

  Kayla took the weapon into her hands. Both the scabbard and the hilt were decorated and engraved with flowers. There was now even a word carved into the hilt.

  “Cosaín,” she read out loud.

  “That means ‘to protect,’” Fay said.

  Kayla met Fay’s gaze. There was a brown freckle in Fay’s left eye that Kayla hadn’t noticed before.

  For a second, Kayla wasn’t in the armory anymore. She was back in that alley, outside the club in Chicago, and she could feel Fay’s body close to hers, Fay’s breath tickling her cheek.

  That night, she had wanted to kiss Fay so badly.

  She realized she still did.

  Kayla closed the distance between them until their knees touched and she could place her free hand on Fay’s hip.

  “Kayla…”

  The sound of her name coming from Fay’s mouth sent a shiver down her spine. Kayla’s gaze darted from Fay’s lips to her eyes, wide and desperate. They were so close to each other; Kayla felt the warmth radiating off Fay, heard her gasp a little.

  “I-I have to tell you something…” Fay said. Her words were only a whisper and Kayla barely registered them. She didn’t want to talk, not now.

  She leaned in for a kiss.

  “What are you two still doing here?” a male voice asked.

  Kayla leaped away from Fay, blushing, as a man came in through the doorway.

  It was Oilibhéar, the knight.

  “I wanted to finish something,” Fay said, clearing her throat. She busied herself with clearing the worktable, hiding her face from Kayla. “I have already put away the Nori blades, but I was not sure about the daggers out front.”

  Kayla shifted her gaze from Fay and back to the man. In the light of the furnace’s fire, she could discern his features weren’t those of Oilibhéar. He had the same brown hair and amber eyes as him, but the planes of his face were sharper, his beard less scruffy, and he was a few inches shorter.

  “We will leave them,” the man told Fay, then looked at Kayla. “You must be Kayla. I am Bedwyr. I think you already met two of my children, Maeve and Oilibhéar?”

  Too shocked by what had almost happened, Kayla could do nothing but nod politely.

  “I swear to Dôn,” Bedwyr said. “My Maeve has gotten Fay and Nooa in more trouble than I can count, but she is fierce.”

  “That she is,” Fay said as she returned the graver to its storage. “Do you need help with the furnace?”

  “I will take care of it. You two go and enjoy the rest of the day.”

  She might have imagined it, but Kayla thought she saw Bedwyr wink at them as they left.

  They stood outside the armory, not looking at each other. Kayla didn’t know what to say. Back in there, when Fay had said she needed to talk to her, Kayla had ignored the urgency in Fay’s voice. She ignored the alarm going off inside of her, screaming at her that this was a mistake, that she couldn’t kiss Fay.

  She couldn’t fall for the girl who had kidnapped her.

  But now, Kayla’s mind was clear again. And her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “What was it you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

  Fay drew up her shoulders, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her pants. “I don’t think we should…”

  “Is it…” Kayla swallowed. “Is it because of that girl? Isobel? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”

  “No apologizing,” Fay cut in, her lips pressed into a thin line. She was still avoiding Kayla’s gaze.

  “But I am sorry, okay? Now please look at me!” Kayla reached out a hand and Fay flinched. Her eyes darted up, glittering in the light of the setting sun.

  “Apologies are meaningless and offensive to faeries. Besides, there’s nothing to apologize for,” Fay said, her shoulders relaxing a little. “Isobel and I aren’t anamchara.”

  “Anam—what?”

  “We are not in love.” Again, Fay’s eyes flicked toward Kayla. “Most faeries enjoy open relationships. There’s no harm in being with more than one person.”

  Kayla took a step back. “I see.” After all she’d seen at the revel on her first day, she wasn’t surprised to hear Fay say that, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She wasn’t sure about a lot of things when it came to Fay.

  The other girl was looking at something in the distance. A gentle breeze drifted in from the sea, lifting the fine hairs that had come loose from Fay’s ponytail. In the fading daylight, Fay’s skin shone white, and despite her casual clothes she was the beautiful princess who Kayla had dreamed of last night.

  Fay’s emerald eyes settled on Kayla for a moment, sweeping a tingling sensation up the back of her neck and across her face. “I’ve got something else planned,” Fay said, her voice no longer strained. “We call it Doscíthean. A place to unwind.”

  Kayla could think of a dozen questions to ask and several other things she’d rather do. She didn’t come to the faerie world to unwind or to fool around with a faerie princess; she came to find her father.

  But as much as she wanted to go after him now, she wasn’t allowed to. Until Dahlia called her back to Chicago, there was nothing else left to do.

  And so Kayla followed Fay toward the Whispering Woods. Once they reached the outskirts of the forest, they found a little clearing between a group of trees. A fire crackled in a grate set into the ground, illuminating the faces of those who were gathered around it. Four of them stared at her while Maeve kept braiding her green hair. Rhydian, who had one arm slung around her waist, nudged her, and she glanced up at Kayla.

  “Oh,” was all she said.

  Nooa rose to his feet. They were bare, as was his chest. “I am glad you could join. Have a seat!” He settled back down between Oilibhéar and Isobel.

  Kayla waited for Fay to sit next to Isobel, but she slumped down beside Oilibhéar, pulling Kayla along with her.

  None of these faeries were total strangers to Kayla, but it was a peculiar group. She’d never seen them all in the same place, but here they were, sitting in a circle, gazing into the fire and sipping drinks from leaf cups. Nooa passed his pipe to Maeve and retrieved his flute from his pocket. A soft, mellifluous tune filled the small clearing.

  Maeve took a pull
on the pipe. Her eyelids drooped and she was serene in a way she’d never been.

  It rubbed Kayla the wrong way. Faeries might not think much of apologies, but Kayla did. She couldn’t just forget that Maeve hadn’t even hesitated to drag Kayla before the queen.

  There was a tug at Kayla’s arm. Fay was holding out a drink, a smile on her face. Kayla shook her head no, and Fay leaned in closer. “What’s wrong?”

  Kayla’s eyes flicked to Maeve and back to Fay.

  “This is neither the time nor the place to hold any grudges,” Fay said. “This gathering is a space for kindness and tranquility, no matter what differences you might have with someone else.” She sipped at her drink, shut her eyes, and hummed along to the melody Nooa was playing.

  Maeve passed on the pipe to Rhydian, who took it and puffed some smoke. “I cannot believe that you have seen Unseelies,” Rhydian said. “What was it like?”

  Nooa’s melody transformed into something deep and somber. It painted a picture in Kayla’s mind: of the Unseelie knights, gloomy and deadly. Their masked faces came closer and closer, and the red-haired woman chuckled while the man’s white hand gripped Kayla’s throat and…

  Maeve snapped her out of her reverie. “…incredible! But we kicked their asses, and they crawled back to whatever cave they came from.”

  “It was reckless of you to go there with the faerie cat,” Oilibhéar said, his voice calm, as if they were discussing the weather. Kayla understood what Fay had meant; there was no room for accusations or any other strong feelings.

  “She would have never made it without us.” Maeve spoke in the same deadpan voice. “She needed our protection.”

  “But you should have known better. You are not a knight.”

  A flicker of anger crossed Maeve’s face, but she said nothing. Beside her, Rhydian blew out some smoke. “She might not be one,” he said, “but she knows how to wield a weapon. And it saved her life that night.”

  “If your father finds out you have been preparing her behind his back…” Oilibhéar said.

  “He will not find out.” Rhydian handed the pipe to Fay. “There are more important things on his mind right now.”

  “It has not been that bad since the Royal Battle,” Isobel said, pushing back her sleek dark-blue hair. Her cheeks were rosy from the liquor. “Maybe we all should have a weapon.”

  Nooa’s melody died, and he put the flute down on the ground beside him. “I do not like the sound of that.”

  “Isobel is right,” Oilibhéar said, lowering his gaze to his drink. “Queen Ophira is working on sending a message to her sister. And once she succeeds, we must brace for battle. One in which we might stand alone.” He took a swig from his drink. “We have heard word of Blackpond today. The pookas insist on ending the treaty and confronting the Unseelies themselves.”

  Fay coughed, smoke swirling out of her nostrils. “How? No one knows where the Unseelies are hiding.”

  “They claim that they know.”

  “But if they do…” Kayla said, and all of a sudden everyone was looking at her. She cleared her throat. “If the pookas know where the Unseelies are, why aren’t they telling Ophira?”

  Maeve snorted and then continued savoring her drink.

  “Our relationship with the pookas is complicated,” Oilibhéar said.

  “Why?”

  “There are many reasons. But for one, when the Crown of Tír na nÓg was forged, the Seelie faeries established themselves as the rulers and the pookas were not content with that… development.”

  “The pookas did not want to bow to the Seelie Court,” Nooa said. “They believe in the deity Cernunnos as their true leader, even though he has not been seen since the Giants vanished from this world.”

  Rhydian nodded along. “But when the pookas lost the Battle of Trees, they were forced to accept our king as their ruler. They kept fighting for their independence, even after that, until the Treaty of Blackpond. Other clans have been much more compliant.”

  Kayla hadn’t seen any clans other than the pookas, but she guessed their absence meant they agreed with the way things were going. They had faith in their queen.

  “What do the pookas want from the Unseelies?” Kayla asked.

  “I don’t think it’s about what they want,” Fay said. She was still holding the pipe in her fingers, twisting it. Her golden ring gleamed in the light of the fire. “The pookas are scared of what the Unseelies could do and they don’t like that. If something threatens their people, they get rid of that threat.”

  Back in Chicago, Kayla didn’t really follow politics. It had always felt far too removed from her, when some guy was saying one thing and then another guy said something different. But here, in the Seelie Court, it was all happening right before her eyes. And she was caught up in the middle.

  The next few words left her lips before she could even process them. “I’ve got nothing to do with this, but the Unseelies took my father. I’m convinced they did.” She glanced up and saw Fay looking back at her, a crease between her brows.

  Then Fay scooted closer and her fingers brushed against Kayla’s. Kayla blushed. Did anyone notice? Did Isobel notice? Kayla pulled back a little.

  “It is baffling,” Oilibhéar said. “There has never been sight of Titania, yet she is still quite present in the minds of the Seelies.”

  “Because what she did was a violation against this court,” Maeve said. “She divided our people. She turned part of our population into something else.”

  Everyone nodded along in quiet agreement. Then Nooa put his flute to his lips again and started playing. He was leaning against Oilibhéar, who had his eyes closed now, listening to the music.

  Fay nudged Kayla’s hand. “Here.” She held out the pipe.

  “I don’t smoke,” Kayla said automatically.

  “This won’t harm you. It’s a kind of weed we grow in the fields. We use it for sedation as well, but in this form it will do nothing but calm you down a little.”

  Kayla knew she shouldn’t accept any substances she had no knowledge of, but she had done exactly that ever since she’d arrived at the Seelie Court. What was the harm of trying out one more weed?

  She accepted the pipe. Fay gave her a brief smile, then flopped down on her back and closed her eyes.

  Kayla had never held a pipe before. She’d never even seen one up close, but she could tell this one was different. A tiny smoke ring rose from the circular hole at one end. That was where Nooa had put the weeds, but Kayla hadn’t seen him light it.

  The fire crackled and hissed. Its warmth was pleasant on Kayla’s skin. Everything around her—from the birds in the trees to the smallest insect chirping nearby—was peaceful. And she wanted to be part of that peace.

  She placed the flat end of the pipe between her lips and pulled. An explosion of tastes erupted in her throat and traveled down into her chest. Sweet and sour and salty and all at once. It conjured an image of evergreen hills dotted with flowers and a cloudless sky. Her lungs expanded as they filled with the smoke, but it wasn’t painful.

  It was soothing.

  She released the smoke through her nostrils, which tickled a little and she coughed. Oilibhéar beside her chuckled and offered his open palm. A part of her didn’t want to give up the pipe just yet, but maybe it was better that way.

  Kayla looked around at all the different faces sitting in that circle. They hadn’t changed, but something inside of Kayla had. She no longer felt angry when she saw Maeve snuggled up against Rhydian. That negative feeling had been dulled, shoved into the back of her mind.

  And when she watched Isobel swaying to Nooa’s tune, there was no little jab in her stomach.

  Kayla settled down beside Fay with a deep sigh. There were a thousand things Kayla could have been worrying about in that second, but none of them mattered. Not in that moment.

  Maybe life was about more than finding her dad.

  Kayla tilted her head toward Fay and thought about what she’d said: anamch
ara. Kayla had never considered that there was a difference between mutual attraction and love. Thinking about it now she realized she had been attracted to her exes, but it hadn’t been love.

  It had been too fleeting…

  She gazed up at the sky, not even registering all the stars as her mind wandered without restraint, thinking about everything and nothing at all. Kayla hummed along to the melody Nooa was playing, her chest light and her fingertips tingling.

  After the longest while, Nooa’s tune broke off. Everyone bolted up when someone spoke.

  “I have a message for Kayla.”

  Within seconds, the calmness inside Kayla vanished and was replaced by the frantic beating of her heart. Her hands trembled as she accepted the note. It read:

  Come see me ASAP. —Dahlia

  25

  THE TRUTH UNRAVELED

  As soon as they reached Chicago, Kayla pulled out her phone. The battery was down to 5% so she typed fast.

  Abby, I don’t have much time. Are you there?

  She waited for the three dots to appear. Nothing.

  If you’re reading this, please answer. I miss you.

  Again, she waited, but no reply came.

  Kayla turned her phone off again at 1%. Rhydian eyed her from aside, but she avoided his gaze for the rest of their trip. She wished Oilibhéar could have gone with them.

  Dahlia’s newest concoction tasted worse than her earlier ones. It was a mixture of unwashed socks, spoiled eggs, and something bitter and metallic. And it had the texture of green slime.

  “Ugh!” Kayla was seconds from vomiting after emptying the cup. “That’s the last time I’m drinking something of yours.”

  Dahlia flicked her hand. “Oh, please. It’s not that bad.” She rounded her worktable with several grass culms clasped in her hand.

  “What now?” Kayla asked. “If you’re saying I have to eat grass and dirt next—”

  “Shush. That’s for me.” Dahlia sat beside Kayla on the old sofa, sending dust flying in the air, and knotted the culms together at the ends until they formed one long culm. “Your mind has been astonishingly tricky,” she said. “It had me chasing through a labyrinth, seeking in vain for a connection to your father, when what I had to find was not a way into your mind but a way to crack it. I have to make it drop whatever protection has been put on it and make your memories and bonds reveal themselves to us. This’ll do the job.”