“A means to an end,” Titania said. “A tiny puzzle piece in the larger picture.”
A ray of sunlight broke through a crack in the stone and it illuminated the shiny blade in Titania’s hand. The double-edged sword looked too artfully crafted to be a murder weapon. Rubies and emeralds adorned its gilded hilt, and a fine inscription ran along the blade.
Kayla felt a tug in her chest, drawing her toward the weapon. She ached to hold it and to run her finger along the engraving. And, most startlingly, the sword radiated with strength, pulsed with energy, as though Kayla’s presence had activated it.
“We will rule in all glory,” Titania said, offering her weapon-free hand. “If only you accept—”
Kayla gasped as the hand was yanked back. Titania cried out, slashing at Cadfael with her sword.
“Run!” he cried while blocking Titania’s attack with the length of his spear. Another pooka broke from the crowd and pulled Kayla to her feet.
“But my friends…” Kayla’s eyes scanned the room. At the far end of the cave, the pookas were still fighting Ciarán, Rhona, and a couple more knights that had appeared. The white-haired stranger was nowhere in sight, and neither were Kayla’s friends.
The pooka tugged at her arm. “Over there.” He led her to another opening in the cave where Maeve and Fay were waiting. Both had their arms slung around Abby’s waist, and Maeve immediately let go for Kayla to take over.
“Sólas, what about Cadfael?” Fay asked the pooka.
“It was his command,” Sólas said. He glanced back over his shoulder, and Kayla followed his gaze to see Ciarán charging toward them. Sólas drew an arrow from his quiver, nocked it to his bow, and sent it soaring through the air. It hit Ciarán in the leg.
“No!” A maddening scream echoed through the cave. “She cannot leave!” Titania cried. Cadfael had pinned her against the wall with his spear.
Rhona whipped her head around to her queen, abandoned her opponent, and raced across the cave.
“Now go,” Sólas said. He shot another arrow before ushering Kayla and the others into the narrow tunnel. The steps were worn down and slippery, and Kayla struggled to keep her grip on a weak Abby, whose knees kept buckling under her.
“Kay,” Abby whispered. “You need to—”
“Don’t you even suggest leaving without you!” Kayla said. She met Fay’s gaze over the top of Abby’s and seeing those green eyes in the dark tunnel reassured her. Together they pulled Abby up.
At the bottom of the steps, the path branched. “Which way?” Fay asked.
The sound of several footsteps echoed down the tunnel. Voices were screaming and swords clanging.
Fay looked at Sólas for help, but before he could answer, an Unseelie man, clad in black armor, stepped out of one tunnel. Fay yelped, pulling both Abby and Kayla back, while Maeve and Sólas aimed their weapons.
The Unseelie didn’t move. His violet eyes, the same color as his long, smooth hair, found Kayla’s, and it was as if someone pulled a string inside Kayla.
She stepped forward to shield the Unseelie from Maeve’s sword. “Don’t hurt him!”
“Why not? He’ll hand us over!”
Kayla looked at the stranger and he gazed back with the same confusion she felt. Somewhere in the back of her mind, there was an image of that stranger, and she felt she ought to know him. That he knew her.
“Come with me,” he said and disappeared into the left tunnel. Kayla didn’t hesitate a second to follow him, grabbing hold of Abby again and therefore pulling Fay along with her. She could hear Maeve call out in protest but enter the tunnel anyway.
As they wound their way along a narrow pathway, Kayla didn’t take her eyes off the stranger even once, until Fay spoke. “Why do you trust him?”
“I think I know him.”
“You do?” Fay sounded more shocked than surprised. “How come you know an Unseelie?”
If only Fay knew…
The tunnel ended in a dead end, where the stranger waited for them with his open palm placed on the stone.
“I told you this would happen!” Maeve called.
The Unseelie turned his back on her and lowered his gaze to Kayla. “This is where I will have to leave you.” He pressed his hand harder against the wall and, with a grinding sound, a door swung outward.
The sounds of their pursuers grew louder. Fay and the pooka helped Abby climb outside. Then, Maeve grabbed Kayla’s hand.
“Wait! How do I know you?” Kayla asked the Unseelie man.
He cast a hurried glance over his shoulder. “I tried to save him,” he whispered. “It was too late. Here, take this.” He held out a piece of parchment, folded several times.
“What…?”
“Your father.” Another glance back. “Alasdair.”
“How do you…?”
“Leave now!” He shoved the parchment into Kayla’s hands and spun back around as someone advanced on him with a cry. It was the white-haired man.
“They cannot leave!” he bellowed. Unbridled fury scarred his face, turning his black eyes even darker. “Capture the banshee!”
The two men collided with their blades, metal grinding on metal.
Maeve tugged at Kayla’s hand and pulled her through the exit. The door closed, sealing away the fighting strangers.
“There’s no time for chatter now,” Maeve said, but she sounded more empathetic toward Kayla than she ever had. She even patted Kayla’s shoulder before turning away. “We need to find my brother first. And then it’s time to get out of this place.”
Kayla stuffed the parchment into her pouch, before Maeve ushered her forward.
The sun shone down on them with a blinding brightness. Once Kayla’s eyes had adjusted, she spied a grizzled body from which blood was seeping. Kayla jumped aside with a yelp, knocking into the pooka.
Sólas caught her and switched places so that Kayla was supporting Abby again. “There should be an entrance to the Faery Path around here,” he said. “Do you know where to find it?”
“Yes,” Fay said. “Isn’t that how you got here?”
“We crossed the Barren.”
Kayla didn’t know what the Barren was, but it didn’t sound good.
“My face hurts,” Abby mumbled at Kayla’s side. Kayla placed a hand under Abby’s chin, gently turning her head toward her. Blood dotted half of her face, from the cut on her brow down to her jaw. If only Kayla had something to clean the wound.
Abby grew heavy in Kayla’s arms as Fay let go and burst forward.
“Nooa!”
A few feet in the distance stood Nooa, leaning against Oilibhéar. They were both bloody, and a visible wound ran down Nooa’s leg. Fay flung her arms around Nooa, who staggered back a few steps. Maeve gave her brother a quick hug.
Sólas noticed Kayla’s struggle to keep Abby upright and together they walked over to the others. “We should get to the Faery Path now,” he said.
“It’s right over—” Fay began.
Ferocious calls and heavy footfalls startled them all, and as they turned around, they saw a group of Unseelie knights, chased by pookas, advancing on them.
“There!” Fay cried and bolted forward. They all followed her along the mountain, Kayla as fast she could carry Abby. The entry to the Faery Path wasn’t far. Kayla could already see it, a frame of swirling symbols carved deep into the stone.
Maeve reached it first, pulled out her Triskelion, and pressed it in with trembling hands.
The pounding footsteps behind them grew louder, and Unseelies and pookas alike moaned as their respective opponents struck them down.
“It’s not working,” Fay said. She took the Triskelion from Maeve and pressed it into the engraving again. “Why is it not working?”
“Then we must fight them.” Maeve whirled around with her sword.
Oilibhéar waved her off. “They are too many.”
Whether it was the cries behind their backs or the desperate look on Fay’s face that made Kayla move, s
he couldn’t tell. But she released her grip on Abby, stepped forward, and placed her palm over one of the engravings. She didn’t know why she chose that particular one or why she didn’t touch the one that was supposed to be for the Triskelion. Her hand moved on its own accord.
A shock shot up her arm, and she gasped. Something pulsed at her side and she realized it was coming from inside her pouch. She could feel a strange heat radiating off it. Either her phone had just melted or it was the necklace.
With a tremble, the rock inched back and slid into the ground.
“How did you do that?” Fay asked, wide-eyed.
Kayla stared at the opening. A sharp, prickling sensation spread through her body, leaking into every nerve and every cell. “I don’t know.”
“We have to hurry,” Fay said, not taking her eyes off Kayla. “They’ll be able to open it.”
“They won’t.”
Again, Kayla acted upon pure instinct. Once everyone was inside and the door had closed, drowning out the battle cries, Kayla placed both hands on the cold stone. With her eyes closed, she whispered words she wasn’t even aware she knew. They weren’t words of a language she’d been taught, but they felt as familiar as English. They left her lips with ease, and as she continued her chant, vines sprung from where her palms touched the stone. They slithered across the solid surface, sealing the exit.
“Kayla…”
The fear in Fay’s voice caused Kayla to falter, thinking that maybe what she was doing was in fact dangerous, but then she continued. It was the only way to keep them safe. To make it out unscathed.
When thick tendrils of vines and ivy covered the entire wall, Kayla stepped back to consider her work. “This should do it. It’ll give us enough time to go back.”
In the darkness, Kayla could hardly make out Fay’s face, her green eyes a tiny shimmer. “Back to the Seelie Court, you mean?” she asked.
“No,” Kayla said. She drew in a deep breath, trying to ease the pain in her chest, and she forced the words out before she could change her mind. “I’m going back home.”
34
FAULT AND FAILURE
Dear Kayla,
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured explaining everything to you. But in none of those scenarios I was writing a letter in haste, locked up in a cold and lonely prison.
In case I never see you again—I’m so sorry, Kayla. Sorry for having lied to you. Your mother and I, we never wanted to keep this a secret, but we had to. Your birth parents asked us to, and we agreed it was the best way to keep you safe. Our blood might not run through your veins, but you’re as much our child as Theo. We love you, and it’s because we love you so much that we decided not to tell you.
Your birth mother’s name is Amhrán. And she is a faerie. I’ll never forget the night I told you a story about the faeries and you asked me, “Daddy, did you ever see a faerie?” It pained me so much that I couldn’t answer you that night. The truth is, I did meet a faerie. Amhrán came to me one day and she said she saw goodness in my heart, enough to trust me with the safekeeping of her child. Your mother and I were having trouble getting pregnant, and you were the miracle we couldn’t even have asked for.
So Amhrán left you with us. She never told me where she went or why she was leaving you, but she told us to keep you away from the faerie world. It was best we all kept our distance, she said, and in case we ever needed help, I should find a person named Dahlia Blodwen in Chicago.
But we had no need to go to Dahlia. We were safe. Soon we had Theo and our family was complete. It was perfect. You grew up as any human child would, never knowing of the dangers your birth mother escaped. (I don’t know who she was running from, but she was fleeing from someone for sure.) Eileen would have even kept the faeries’ existence a secret, but I couldn’t do that. I knew very little of them myself, only the stories I’d heard as a child. I hoped it was enough to prepare you for the day I could no longer protect you from the faeries.
Maybe they’re not all bad. I’m convinced Amhrán was one of the good ones, because she passed on that pure heart of yours. Unfortunately, I did not get to meet your birth father. Whoever he is, I’m thankful that he trusted me with his child, because, Kayla, I’ve loved you since the second I saw you.
I’m so sorry that I’m gone now. I know your mother will do everything she can to keep you and your brother safe. Nothing was ever more important to her.
Love,
Dad
Kayla pushed the door to the Windy Flower open, and the scent of soil and lemongrass welcomed her. Dahlia stood behind the counter, putting together a flower arrangement, and she didn’t look up when Kayla and the others entered.
“We’re closed,” Dahlia said. A strand of fiery red hair came loose from her bun and she tucked it behind her furry ear. It slipped out again, and she cursed. “I have a dozen more flower arrangements to attend to, so if you don’t mind…”
“We met the Unseelie Queen.”
Dahlia faltered. The dandelion she was holding floated to the floor as her cat eyes narrowed on the group. “We should have tea.” She turned toward the backroom, but paused again when Kayla spoke.
“Two of us are hurt,” she said.
Dahlia beckoned them to follow her. “I’ll take care of it upstairs,” she said and disappeared through the bead curtain into the back.
Not much had changed since Kayla’s last visit, and the tiny room was still cluttered with books, plants, and various mysterious objects. The grass culm Dahlia had used last time had crumbled to dust on the coffee table.
Dahlia crossed the small space toward a door that had always been closed. “Get them over here,” she said before vanishing into the room. Kayla and Fay helped Abby, while Oilibhéar and Maeve supported Nooa.
The second room was tiny. A queen-sized bed covered in sheets and cushions stood against one wall. Pale light filtered in through a window. The remaining space was occupied by wooden shelves sagging under the weight of books and potted plants. Even though this room looked similar to the rest of Dahlia’s apartment, it was more personal. Kayla noticed a framed photograph on the nightstand, of a man and a woman with two red-headed children.
Kayla and Fay lowered Abby onto the bed. She uttered a moan, but other than that she was quiet. Kayla was worried; Abby hadn’t said a single word since they left the Unseelie Court.
“Can you sit?” Oilibhéar asked, maneuvering Nooa toward the bed. Nooa slumped onto it with a grimace.
“All of you, get out. I must work in quiet.” Dahlia shoved Kayla and Fay aside, leaning into Abby, who flinched.
“But—” Kayla began.
Dahlia shushed her. “If you want me to help your friends, you’ll have to trust me.”
The others left the room with a few glances at Nooa. Kayla tried to offer Abby an encouraging smile, but it felt out of place. She left, closing the door behind her.
When she turned to face the room, Maeve stood in front of her, arms crossed, and Fay and Oilibhéar watched her from the sofa.
“We did what you asked,” Maeve said. “Now talk.” Her face was bruised and blistered, similar to Fay’s. Apparently, the Unseelie Court had an effect on Seelie blood too.
But not on Kayla.
She knew she had to tell them; she’d promised. And she found that she even wanted to tell them, but she struggled to find the right words. Her mind was still reeling from all that had happened.
Her gaze flicked toward Fay, who looked back at her with warmth.
And so Kayla talked, as fast as she could. She told them everything from the moment she had left the Seelie Court. While she was talking, she fidgeted with the strap of her pouch and concentrated on her hands, not looking up once. She couldn’t bear to see their reactions, to see the shock on their faces or notice them shrink away when they found out she was part Unseelie.
When she had concluded, the room fell awfully silent, causing the noise of traffic outside to grow louder. As the silence stretched on, Kayl
a feared it would never be broken, but Maeve’s urge to comment on everything was too strong.
“You are related to our queen?”
The incredulity in Maeve’s voice didn’t even hurt Kayla. “Both of them, actually,” she said. She finally lifted her head, trying to find Fay’s gaze, but Fay had turned away from her. Kayla felt a pang in her chest.
“And you’re an Unseelie?” Maeve asked.
“Part of me, yes.”
“I was right. I knew there was something off about you…” Maeve muttered to herself. Her eyes narrowed on Kayla, two deeply-glowing ambers, and when her gaze dropped, Kayla knew immediately what she was staring at. Kayla tugged her hair over the Unseelie Mark beneath her collarbone. “Perhaps there’s even more,” Maeve said. “You could have been working with the enemy all along.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” Maeve approached her, arms trembling at her side.
“Yes, it is.” Fay said. She sat completely still, twisting the ring on her left hand with her fingers almost mechanically. She didn’t look Kayla’s way.
“I agree with Princess Fay. Ophira’s vision chose her,” Oilibhéar said, turning to face Kayla. “And now we know why. You carry the blood of a Seelie and an Unseelie. This has never happened before, at least not to our knowledge. And you are also the heir to the crown, which puts you into a unique position.” His amber eyes glimmered with new possibilities.
Kayla swallowed against the dryness in her mouth. She didn’t like the direction this conversation was heading, and even less when Maeve spoke again.
“So Titania is still after the crown.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “But she needs Kayla to wear it, because Titania is not worthy of it anymore.”
“Those are two things we know about Titania’s plans,” Oilibhéar said.
“Three.” Kayla cast a glance over her shoulder, at the closed door. “She wants Abby too. They called her… a banshee.”
“Are you certain that was the word she used?” Oilibhéar asked.
“Yes.” Kayla looked at Maeve, who had shock and disbelief written on their faces. “Why? What is it?”
Seelie Princess (The Crown of Tír na nÓg Book 1) Page 28