by Tam Erskine
Several Glaistigs walked in front of them; others walked behind them.
Ilanya waited at the door. She bowed as they approached. "Princess."
"The queen summoned us?" Ivy despised court protocol, the empty phrasing, the falseness of it all. She'd be on her way out of the palace already if the Faery Queen hadn't summoned them.
If the queen said all was well and left it at that, Ivy was headed back out the palace. Somehow, Ivy doubted that her hopes were about to be answered.
Ilanya leaned in and whispered, "She has left your sister in my herd's care until sentence is pronounced."
Ivy nodded.
Less information is better, right now. Later, perhaps I will want to know . . .
Jack winced, but he didn't ask what kind of care Ada was receiving.
Then, Ilanya opened the door and ushered them in. “Your guests.”
The Faery Queen looked infinitely better, almost youthful in comparison to her appearance when Ivy had passed out. The Faery Queen was still unhealthily thin, but her movements were closer to that fluid grace she'd once had, before she'd begun to grow ill.
The door closed. No one else was in the chamber, just the three of them.
"Daughter." The Faery Queen motioned them to the small table.
“Mother,” Ivy managed to say, sounding mostly steady.
“Your majesty,” Jack said.
They sat.
Once, many years ago, she and Ada had dined here with the Faery Queen. They had been a family, but Ivy had grown older, become a teenager, wanted to explore the realm. A trickle of guilt wriggled through her.
Would I have noticed sooner?
If she'd stayed here when her mother began to grow ill, would Ivy have been able to protect the Faery Queen? Would Ada have been able to poison their mother so easily? If she'd tried to understand her mother’s erratic choices, would the madness have lasted so very long?
Is it my fault for staying away so much?
"I'm pleased that you're both well." The Faery Queen lifted a thin-stemmed glass and peered into it with a wry smile. "Ada used to bring me my drink. I didn't bother to have it tasted, not from my daughter's hand. Foolish of me, I see."
She lifted it to her lips and drank deeply.
"Everything here was tested by the Glaistigs before the door was closed. You'll be safe," she announced.
Ivy nodded.
"Eat, children." The Faery Queen waved towards the food, trays of succulent meats and cold fruit.
Once they obeyed, the room was silent but for the sounds of dishes and occasional tap as a goblet was lowered the table after drinking.
Finally, the queen said, "I am surprised that you'd take such risks for me, Ivy."
Silently, Jack picked up a cluster of honeyed winter plums.
"The realm was in pain." Ivy lifted her own glass, her mouth suddenly dry. "I should've done more sooner. . . When you first became unwell, I didn't realize it was a sickness. I thought you were simply growing crueler."
"A reasonable thought," the Faery Queen murmured. "Ada surely counted on it. We've never been close; have we, Ivy?"
"No."
"I believe we should change that." The Faery Queen smiled, and it was almost a pleasant smile. "If you're to take the throne someday, it'd be foolish to stay so unaware of one another."
Pausing to weigh her words, Ivy tried to think of how to answer her mother without angering her. There weren’t any. So, she settled on, “I will be a better daughter. Visit more. See you more.”
“Good.” Her mother nodded. “Do not feel guilt, Ivy. Children grow. It’s what we want—to raise strong, independent daughters. I did that.”
“If I’d been home—”
“Nonsense,” the Faery Queen said loudly. “I didn’t stay home when I was finally old enough to see the world. These are my subjects, and I traveled to meet all of them—and mortals, too.”
She paused and smiled at Jack.
Then, her entire body seemed to become regal. She sounded less like a mother and more like a queen. "In putting the realm first, you did what needed to be done, Ivy."
Ivy rolled words around in her mind, hoping for an answer that wasn’t ‘and now I’m an heir.’ Ada clearly couldn't rule, but being queen was not what she'd wanted.
Not ever.
"Would you sacrifice them now?” the Faery Queen continued. “Your Ellyllon? The Bog Mother and her brood? The folk you saw on your trip? Will you leave them and all the rest without a queen?" The Faery Queen caught and held Ivy's gaze. "After what you've done, would you let the realm fall when I can no longer rule? What will happen when I die?"
Die?
"I'm not going to be here long enough." Ivy almost cheered at the realization, however grim, that she would die before the immortal queen was ready to pass over rule of the realm.
Ivy sat up straighter. "I've bound myself to Jack Merry. He's a mortal, mother. I'll fade when he dies."
"I see." The Faery Queen turned her wily gaze on Jack. "Your life tied to hers: would you ask me to un-do this? A boon for what you've done, perhaps?"
“No!” Ivy exclaimed.
As the Faery Queen peered at him, Jack looked helplessly back at her, like a trapped thing, but he didn't answer.
"It’s done." Ivy looked at her mother. "It is the way of it, Mother. Your rule. I have done this, and so I must abide by it. ‘Royals are not immune from the law.’ You said that."
"And if I should simply undo the rule?" The Faery Queen nibbled a berry and then added, "You are my chosen heir now; being plagued with mortality would not serve the realm."
"I am bound to Jack Merry," Ivy insisted.
"So be it." The Faery Queen lifted her voice then, "I give you a gift, Jack Merry, for your service to my people. Your bond to Princess Ivy shall stand, but it is her lifespark that shall determine your shared lifetime, not the reverse."
As she spoke, Jack's eyes widened, and he looked around. After a moment, he said, "I can't hear the bells. They've stopped ringing. Does that mean she's immortal again?"
“Yes,” the Faery Queen said.
"Neither of us are mortal now," Ivy whispered. She was happy for Jack, but now she had no valid way to refuse her mother.
"I'm fine with not being immortal. I'd never thought of wanting that, but Ivy"--he sighed and stared at her--"I wasn't fine with you giving it up. I know you don't want to be queen, but she's not talking about taking over right now, is she?"
He looked at the Faery Queen.
The Faery Queen shook her head, looking as content as Kayt did when he found a wide sunbeam. The Faery Queen had them exactly where she wanted, as she wanted. She was visibly content.
"Maybe there'll be a way around it. We'll have time to figure it out," Jack continued. "You did rescue the Faery Queen, you know?”
"A way around it, indeed," the Faery Queen scoffed and shook her head. "It's not a punishment, Ivy."
Ivy sighed.
Trapped in a palace, pointless protocol, meting out punishments. Why would anyone want such a job?
"Will I still be allowed to travel?" she asked the Faery Queen.
"With your guards or with Jack Merry, if he chooses to stay. I'm quite sure his mother will arrange guards for him now that the Hunt is free of Ada's whims."
“I am your heir, then,” Ivy said morosely.
“You are,” the Faery Queen said. She lifted a delicate-looking napkin and patted her lips. Then, she smiled coldly and said, "Now that we've tended to that detail, there's Ada's treason to address."
#
Jack didn't see why he needed to go to the throne room with Ivy and the Faery Queen, but they'd insisted, and in truth he wasn't sure what else to do.
Immortality. A mother.
H e no longer had to return above-ground if he wanted to stay.
Do I want to stay?
As Ilanya escorted Ada into the room, the Faery Queen motioned for Ivy to stand beside her on the dais. Then, the queen looked at Jac
k Merry expectantly.
Me?
"Go on, Jack,” Ilanya urged. “You've as much right as Ivy to stand there today."
Mutely, he went to stand by Ivy.
Several Huntsmen, including his mother, stood in the room. The Bog Mother and her guards entered behind them. After them, others--most of whom he'd never seen--pressed into the room.
None too gently, Ilanya and another Glaistig pushed Ada to her knees.
The Faery Queen frowned at her eldest daughter and said, "If I were as cruel as your sister fears, I'd have you executed. You do know that, don't you?"
Ada nodded. She looked almost as defiant as she had when she stood on the dais, ordering the Hunt to trample them.
"In ruling the folk, with long memories and longer lives, true punishment must be a lengthy thing, or a final act. I still belief that change is possible if there is time." The Faery Queen reached out to grab Ivy's hand. "Princess Ivy will rule the folk. You will not rule, Ada.Not ever. Not even if I die and your sister dies."
The Faery Queen stared out at the assembled crowd.
No one spoke.
"Time. Time for us to change and to heal is what we need now." The Faery Queen’s voice grew louder, so clear and crisp thay even those in the back could surely hear as clearly as if they stood next to the queen. "Hopefully, in time, you will consider the error in what you've done."
"My Queen?" Ivy spoke up, apparently pleasing the Faery Queen for she smiled almost lovingly. "If Ada is to be banished, how can we assure that she'll not return home without our permission?"
"Our permission?" The Faery Queen quirked one corner of her mouth.
"Yes, Mother, ours. If I’m stuck being the heir, I am accepting the duties that means.”
The Faery Queen’s smile grew.
“Until we both agree that she's no longer a threat to our people, I believe she should be left above-ground." Ivy stared at Ada as she spoke.
"Certainly." The Faery Queen stood and released Ivy's hand. She walked over to Ada. "But that is not enough, now is it, Ada? Ivy thinks of the good of the realm; she thinks of how to keep us safe down here. I must also think of their suffering while I was ill."
She stroked Ada's hair, lovingly despite what she must do. The queen pronounce, "While you walk there, surrounded by mortals, without a servant, your voice shall be silenced."
She rested her fingers on Ada's throat and when she pulled her hand away, something living and fibrous was in her hand.
Ada's mouth moved as if she spoke, but no sound came out: The Faery Queen had taken her voice.
The Faery Queen took that fibrous mass and twisted it in her hand. Then she looped it around Ada's neck. As she did so, it changed so it looked like a solid metal circlet, on the top of it was a grey band.
Mouth moving soundlessly, Ada reached up to touch the circlet; her fingers reddened and bled.
And Jack knew then what it was--a thin line of steel, the same poisonous metal as Ivy's sword blade.
The Faery Queen pulled Ada to her feet.
"You claimed to speak for me,” the queen said. “You lied and ordered things that hurt my realm. You fed me cold steel to keep me weak, to control me." She ran a finger over that grey line and held it up so everyone could see the blood that dripped from it. "As long as you wear this, you'll be weak. To remove it, you would need to cut it, and if you do that, I'll not be able to return it to your throat. Your voice will be gone permanently." Then she kissed Ada on both cheeks. "May you learn quickly."
Epilogue: in which Jack and Ivy visit the Ellyllon
True to her word, the Faery Queen allowed Ivy to roam. She'd been above-ground with Jack to visit the Widow--and to stop to talk to Arth for a while. Keeping an eye on what happened above-ground was a priority to Ivy and to the Faery Queen now that Ada was living there.
And Ivy had ridden with the Hunt--not for pursuit of anyone, but just to feel the thrill of moving that quickly. It wasn't something she'd ever considered, but when Jack asked her to go, she'd heard the worry in his voice. He'd been learning to spend time with his mother, but it was still far from comfortable. Not that her own time with her own mother was comfortable either.
They were both learning.
The Huntswoman offered Jack one of the steeds whenever he wanted, but so far, he only went when he could share a steed with Ivy.
However, Jack’s mother was cautious, eager to keep her son safe, so Jack and Lily both had at least one hound with them, often the one they'd met in the meadow. It was a fair trade, though, better than staying close to the palace or traipsing around with Ilanya in tow.
Today, Jack leaned forward and asked in a low voice, "Are we almost there?"
Even if he did accept a steed, Ivy would still need to go with him. He hadn't developed much of a sense of direction.
"Close," she whispered.
Last time they'd visited the Bog, the Bollynoggins had showered them with swamp water upon arrival. Clematis had led the charge.
Ivy hadn't given up on finding a way around the burden of ruling, but as Jack reminded her, “We have almost eternity to figure it out."
"Psst, Ivy, Jack." Jonquil peeked out from between a few leaves. She pointed to a large boulder along the path.
"Close your eyes and hold on, Jack Merry." Ivy urged her water-horse forward so she could see Clematis and the hidden Bollynoggins. "Now. Say it now!"
Eyes closed, Jack said, "And Ivy saw that the little troublemakers were all caught in a puddle of honey, utterly unable to move their feet."
Then, he opened his eyes and grinned at the squirming Bollynoggins.
"Who warned you?" Clematis frowned at her sticky wings. "Just wait."
She turned to a Bollynoggin beside her. "I told you we should've bound his mouth first. But, no. No one listens to my strategy. Hpmph."
Ivy giggled. They were all a terrible mess.
The Bog Mother and her guards rounded the corner. "Princess. Jack. Glad you could come for the announcement." Then she looked at her boys, who were now throwing globs of honey at each other and at Jack and Ivy. "I was going to wait until later, but I think now seems like a fine time. They're all yours, Daisy."
Clematis gaped at her sister.
Grinning, Jack slipped down from the horse and sat on the ground beside Daisy. "I thought you said you were done with watching out for troublemakers."
Blushing, Daisy muttered, "Hagan and I . . . well, I'm staying here and . . . I already have plenty of practice looking out for trouble makers. I will be the next Bog Mother."
Grandmother Nogs winked at Ivy. "My regards to the queen, Ivy." And to Jack, "Jonquil's finished the salve your mother wanted. Let me know if this one works better at offsetting the terror when you ride."
"I will." Jack nodded, laughing as a shower of honey pelted him. Several Bollynoggins had worked themselves free and crept up alongside him.
Things weren't quite as they'd been in the tales Jack used to tell above-ground, but they were far finer than Ivy had dared believe possible when she'd brought Jack Merry home.
For now, that's enough.
About the Author
Tam Erskine is more often known as Melissa Marr, a former university literature instructor who writes fiction for adults, teens, and children. Her books have been translated into twenty-eight languages and have been bestsellers internationally (Germany, France, Sweden, et. al.) as well as domestically.
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Her YA tends to be for older readers, so to demarcate The Faery Queen’s Daughter as different, she decided to make use of a different author name.
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Fourteen years ago, she wrote her first book--this one--aloud, for her kids. Since then, she's written more than 17 novels, toured in almost every state, as well as several countries. More importantly, she adopted two more kids and moved to four more states. In the middle of that, every year, she has gone back to this book and revised. This year, it seemed like it was worth reading.
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Both “Tam” and “Erskine” are borrowed from her family tree, an homage to relatives who taught her about faeries and the power of stories. This is the first Tam Erskine book, but hopefully not last.
Praise for Melissa Marr's Books:
On GRAVEMINDER:
“Rod Serling would have loved Graveminder. . . . A creatively creepy gothic tale for grown-ups.”—USA Today
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“You won’t be able to put it down! Haunting, captivating, brilliant!” —Library Journal (starred review)
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“If anyone can put the goth in Southern Gothic, it’s Melissa Marr. . . . Marr takes her time building the world of Clayville, and the sinister mystery that dwells within its city limits. She’s also careful to ensure that the book’s wider themes —how and if we accept the roles life assigns us, and what happens to us when we refuse them—matter to us as much as the multiple cases of heebie-jeebies she doles out before the book is through.” —NPR.org
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“No one builds worlds like Melissa Marr.” —Charlaine Harris, New York Times bestselling author of the Sookie Stackhouse series
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“Marr offers readers a fully imagined faery world that runs alongside an everyday world, which even non-fantasy (or faerie) lovers will want to delve into” --Publisher’s Weekly (starred review)
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“Marr has created a world both harsh and lush, at once urban and natural.”--School Library Journal
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“Marr has done it again with this dark, beautifully woven story of love, magic, and belonging.”--Romantic Times Bookclub
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“Complex and involving.”--New York Times Book Review