by Anthea Sharp
She led the way down the hall, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps. Halfway to the main stairs, she turned left and opened the first door.
“It’s a little messy,” she said. “Hold on a sec.”
Tam trailed her into a bathroom that was as big as his living room-slash-bedroom at home. Dark-veined marble floors were softened with fancy patterned rugs, and there was a long countertop with two sinks. The counter was cluttered with girly stuff - mysterious bottles of pink and orange liquids, hair bands and barrettes, tubes of who-knew-what. The air smelled of soap, and flowers. Two hairbrushes and a comb lay next to one of the sinks, which seemed like more than enough.
He looked at her fine, pale hair for a moment. Well, maybe she needed two hairbrushes and a comb - what did he know? No question she had the prettiest hair he’d ever seen. The Bright King had certainly thought it a fair trade for magical faerie grass. The thought made him scowl.
“Don’t worry,” she said, her anxious smile reflected in the mirror. “I’ll get this cleared away.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I was just thinking about something else.”
Like how he’d wanted to charge at the king with his sword drawn. Probably not the best move, but it would have been momentarily satisfying.
Jennet swept a bunch of her stuff into the drawers beside the sink. She swiped the counter with a fluffy white towel, then pulled open a cabinet concealed by one of the mirrors. Taking out a few items, she lined them up on the counter - a jar of tiny green leaves, another full of curly orange petals, and a container of knobby nuts.
“Our ingredients. Thyme, marigold, and hazelnut.” Carefully, she set the golden box beside them. “And grass from a faerie throne.”
Hard won, too. Was it worth the cost?
Tam laid his four-leaf clover bag on the counter. “That’s everything,” he said. “Now what?”
“Now, we get creative.”
She pushed her sleeves up, then opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a white bowl and a weird stick, both made out of marble. She handed the items to him.
“What are they?” He picked up the stick thing - it was heavy, and rounded on one end.
“A mortar and pestle, silly. You use them to grind up herbs. Here.” She shook some of the thyme leaves into the bowl. “Grind.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?” He set the rounded end in the bowl and rocked it back and forth, trying to break up the tiny green herbs. A pungent smell tickled his nostrils.
“I’m not sure of anything, but we have to try. Now, the marigold.”
She added a handful of the orange petals, and a different tang joined the mix as he crushed them into the thyme. A greenish-brown paste was beginning to form in the bottom of the bowl, but it barely looked smearable. He bit his tongue on more questions. Clearly, Jennet had some idea of what they were doing.
“Hm.” She pressed her lips together, lifted the bag of nuts, then set it back down. “What’s next, hazelnuts or the clover?”
“Nuts? Since we only have one clover.” He didn’t know why that made sense, but it did.
She nodded and dropped three nuts in. They were harder to grind. One flew into the sink with a clack, and Jennet fished it out. She put it back in the bowl, and frowned at the mess of broken nuts and half-crushed herbs inside.
“Do you have a blender?” he asked. “That might be a lot easier.”
“Easier, maybe, but does using electricity for this feel right to you? Besides, I don’t want to be in the kitchen, where Marie could see us and ask questions.”
“Fair enough.” Anything that kept him away from Marie was fine by him.
He pounded for a while longer, then took a look at their handiwork. “It’s not very ointmenty.”
“I know.” She stared at their concoction for a minute, a frown bending her eyebrows. “We need something else. Something to help it stick together.”
Tam glanced around the bathroom. “Soap? Lotion? Um, shampoo?”
“Not pure enough. Wait! I know. Stay here - I’ll be right back.”
Like he was going anywhere. He nodded, but Jennet was already out of the room. Ok then - back to mortaring, or pestleing, or whatever the verb was.
She returned a few minutes later, carrying a bottle of something golden and viscous.
“Olive oil.” She held it up with a smile. “This should totally work.”
“If you think so,” he said. “Let’s do the other stuff, and add the oil at the end. A little at a time, until it’s the right consistency.”
“Good idea.” She set the bottle on the counter. “Clover’s next.”
She opened the bag and coaxed out the four-leaf clover. It mushed pretty well into the mixture, though the bits of nuts were still kind of coarse.
“Faerie grass?” he said.
She took a deep breath. “All right. Here we go.”
Slowly, she lifted the lid of the golden box. A soft glow illuminated her face, shimmered over her pale hair. He peeked over her shoulder, aware of the heat of her body, the soft smell of flowers rising from her hair.
Inside the box, the handful of grass shone, strands of spun gold. Like something from an old fairy tale with a goblin and a princess. Hard to believe, but they were in a faerie tale - though this was no story he’d ever heard of.
Jennet picked up the grass and put it into the bowl. It glimmered, looking strange and magical against the glop.
“Do I grind it?” he asked.
“I don’t think so.” She stared at the mortar and pestle a second, her blue eyes intent. “Just a guess, but I think we try the oil now.”
“So far, your guesses have turned out pretty good.”
He held out the bowl, keeping his hands steady as she tipped the bottle. She poured a small dollop of olive oil into the mixture. As soon as the liquid touched the faerie grass, it began to dissolve, imbuing the oil with a faint but unmistakable golden glow. Then the herb and nut mixture began to change, the greenish-grey paste turning a rich jade color. The oil seeped down, gold on green. Tam felt a faint breath of warm wind against his neck and the sweet scent of the Bright Court swirled about them.
Jennet pulled a spoon out of her back pocket - something way fancier than any of the battered utensils Tam used at home. Probably pure silver, or maybe even platinum. She dipped it into the bowl, stirring once, twice, three times. Widdershins, he noticed. The mixture flared, and he swore he heard the faint, chiming laughter of pixies.
“I think we did it,” Jennet said. Her voice trembled a little. “That was… magic.”
“Right here in your bathroom.” He studied the ointment, now a smooth, emerald-green concoction. “It looks good.”
She pulled a jar from one of the drawers, wiped it inside with a tissue, then held it out. “Pour it in here.”
He nodded and tipped the bowl. The contents flowed slowly down into the jar, leaving only a slight residue behind. He lifted the glass jar. The ointment glittered, jade green, with flecks of golden dust suspended in the light.
“One jar of faerie ointment,” he said.
“Whew. That was a little more complicated than I thought it would be.”
She leaned back against the counter and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was the piece the faerie maiden had cut, so a second later it swung free again, brushing her cheek. She pushed it irritably away again.
“Hold still,” he said.
He opened the top drawer she’d dumped her stuff in earlier and fished out a blue barrette. Without thinking too much about it - otherwise he’d completely lose his nerve - he gathered up the loose strand of her hair and secured it with the barrette. Damn, her hair was the softest thing he’d ever felt.
She smiled at him, then set her hands on his waist and drew him close, closer, until their bodies were touching. Heart thumping, he bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. He could feel the shape of her smile. He pressed his mouth more firmly against hers, and she sighed.
; This was even better than their first kiss, though his nerves still trembled at the fact that he was holding her, Jennet Carter, in his arms. Her breath was warm across his mouth. He deepened the kiss, and her hands tightened around his back.
Sparks flew through him, like the golden flecks scattered in the ointment they had just made. He could stay here forever, in the safety of her bathroom, kissing.
But they had the little matter of the world to save.
After another long, perfect moment, he drew back. “We should go.”
“Yeah.” She sounded breathless, and he knew the feeling. “Let’s go out the back. I convinced George this was a one-time emergency, but Marie won’t be so easy. I’d rather not run into her.”
“Me either.” He could just imagine the scene, if the house manager caught them. At least the chauffeur didn’t seem to mind keeping their secrets.
Jennet leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, then let go of him and grabbed the jar of ointment. “Too bad the hardest part is still to come.”
Tam raised his brows. Seemed like winning their way to the Bright Court, bargaining with the king, and then figuring out how to make the ointment had been more than enough.
“What’s that?” he asked.
She made a face. “Getting the faerie ointment on Marny.”
CHAPTER THIRTY - THE BRIGHT COURT
Jennet waited for Marny outside the science room door after third bell. The jar of faerie ointment was tucked in her satchel, practically vibrating with importance. She hadn’t been joking when she told Tam this was going to be the hardest part. She’d rather face a dozen more fiery-eyed creatures than try to apply the faerie ointment to Marny.
Too bad it had to be put on the eyelids. She’d thought of mixing it with eye-shadow and giving Marny a make-over, but that was so not the big girl’s style. And explaining? Marny wouldn’t believe them, and then she’d be far too wary.
Jennet curled her fingers into her palms and scanned the passing students. It would have to be plan B, and she’d only get one chance to make this work. She spotted Marny, walking behind a clump of noisy seniors. Jennet waited for them to pass, then stepped out and grabbed her friend’s arm.
“Hey, Jennet,” Marny said, sounding surprised. “What are you doing?”
“Ahh, my stomach,” Jennet gasped, hunching over. “Help me to the bathroom. Please.”
Marny slung an arm around her, supporting her. “Don’t you think you ought to go to the nurse?”
Maybe she was overdoing it. Jennet straightened up a little. “No - it’s only, uh, cramps. I just need a hand getting down the hall.”
Marny raised her eyebrows, but helped guide Jennet to the girl’s bathroom at the end of the corridor. Once inside, Jennet leaned against the wall and opened her satchel.
“Could you get me a drink of water?” she asked, handing Marny her water bottle. “I’ve got some pain meds in here that will help.”
Marny took the bottle and turned away. While she was at the sink, Jennet surreptitiously opened the jar of faerie ointment and dipped her finger in.
“Here.” Marny returned and held out the water.
“Great.” Jennet gave her a weak smile. “Hey, what’s that by your eye?”
“What?” The other girl rubbed her hand over her face. “Which eye?”
“Close your eye and let me get it.”
When Marny obediently leaned forward, Jennet took her ointmented finger and swiped it across her friend’s left eyelid.
“Hey!” Marny leaped back. “What the hell? It’s all greasy - what’d you do that for?”
“Let me do your other eye, too,” Jennet said. “And then I’ll explain.”
Marny scowled and shook her head. “I don’t think so, Fancy-girl. How about you just explain.”
She pulled a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser and rubbed her eye.
“Wait - don’t rub it all off!”
“You’re insane.” Marny crumpled the towels and threw them in the trash. “Now, talk.”
Jennet pressed her lips together. Had she put enough on? Would the ointment work on only one eye, or did it have to be both?
“It’s about Roy Lassiter - ”
“I knew it.” Marny crossed her arms. “This is some Viewer prank of yours, isn’t it? Tell me, does my eye turn all black in a few minutes? Maybe red dye starts running down my face? Nice try, Jennet. You and your weak tricks.” She made a simpering face, and pitched her voice high. “Oh, help me to the bathroom, oh I’m feeling sick. Pfft. Stay away from me, rich girl.”
She pushed past Jennet’s outstretched hand and stalked out.
“Marny! Wait…”
Great. That had gone tweaked, and Jennet hadn’t even explained what the ointment was for. With a deep sigh, she screwed the lid of the jar closed. The next bell blared through the bathroom, a harsh, metallic sound like the caw of an iron raven.
On top of everything else, she was late for her next class.
“Well?” Tam leaned across the cafeteria table, impatience in every line of his body. “Did it work? Is Marny cured?”
“I don’t know.” Jennet set her tray down with a clunk.
Too bad the school didn’t allow people to bring their own lunch, since the food here was pretty much inedible.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“Look, Tam, I tried. I got the ointment onto one of her eyes, but she stormed off before I could explain anything.”
“Huh.” He sat back. “When was this?”
“Right before last period. I hoped we’d see her at lunch, and…well, find out.”
“There she is,” Tam said in a low voice. “Walking into the cafeteria with Team Lassiter.”
Jennet looked over. Sure enough, a besotted-looking Marny was among Roy’s usual gaggle of girls. Though, while Jennet watched, Marny rubbed her left eye, and for a second her expression of Roy-worship wavered.
Maybe the ointment was working, after all - though there was no guarantee. They’d done their best, but some of the ingredients had been sketchy. What would they do if the ointment failed?
Jennet chewed her food, but paid no attention to what she was eating.
“Look,” she said to Tam. “Marny’s rubbing her eye again. Now watch her face.”
Tam half-turned. “Yeah - something’s getting through. Come on, Marny, you can do it.” He swiveled back to Jennet. “I bet if you got some on her other eye - ”
“Let’s give it a little more time.” She really didn’t relish a repeat of the scene in the bathroom. Besides, Marny would never fall for that trick again. “Stop turning around. Come sit by me so you can see.”
“Alright.” He slid around the corner of the table and leaned his arm companionably close to hers.
The contact shouldn’t have made her so happy, but it did. Little waves of delight washed through her. Tam had issues, but they were figuring things out. Patience, that was the key. And maybe more kisses…
“Jennet,” he said, “stop looking at me. We’re supposed to be watching Marny.”
“Um, yeah.” She felt heat flush into her cheeks as she turned her attention to Roy’s table.
Marny was watching Roy with an odd expression. She tilted her head and closed her left eye, then opened both eyes wide. Then she closed her right eye, leaving only the ointment-smeared one open. Her eyebrows rose and a frown slid across her lips.
“Score,” Tam whispered.
As if she’d heard him, Marny’s gaze went directly to their table. She saw them watching, and her scowl deepened. Still with one eye closed, she tapped Roy on the shoulder, said a few words, then got up and left. He watched her go, a perplexed look on his face. Then the perky blond girl on his other side tugged at his arm, and he turned to her, smiling.
“So.” Marny’s voice was hard. She stood at the end of their table, hands fisted on her hips. “How about that explanation.”
“Sit down,” Tam said. “And you can open your othe
r eye, by the way. I promise Jennet and I will look exactly the same.”
Marny took the spot across from them. “I’m waiting.”
“It’s complicated,” Jennet said.
“How about this,” Tam said. “Tell us what you see out of your left eye, as opposed to your right. Then we’ll know what to explain.”
Marny’s lips twisted. “Ok. Before now, Roy Lassiter was the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. I mean ever. Not only that, he was special. He made me feel amazing, just being around him. Somehow, Jennet ruined that.”
“Yeah, by making you see what’s really going on,” Tam said.
“What if it’s the reverse?” Marny’s eyes narrowed. “What if you guys are the ones playing tricks?”
Jennet let out a low breath. Trust Marny to never blindly accept - though she had been blind where Roy was concerned.
“Believe us or not,” she said. “But here’s the truth. Roy’s been using…well, the best explanation is magic, to enchant the people around him. What I put on your eyelid was a special ointment that let you see past the glamour he cast.”
“I liked the way things were.” Marny still sounded pissed, though there was an edge of uncertainty in her voice.
“Come on, Marny,” Tam said. “You always prefer the truth, no matter how pretty the lie is.”
Marny frowned and glanced at the front table. She chewed on her bottom lip, and Jennet could see her wrestling with the idea. Slowly, she closed her right eye, and her shoulders slumped.
“Fine,” she said. “You guys win. Roy Lassiter is nothing special.”
Jennet laid her hand on her friend’s arm in silent sympathy.
“It gets worse,” Tam said. “Roy is draining the energy from his girlfriends. Like when Keeli collapsed. We were afraid you were next.”
Marny made a disbelieving noise in her throat.
“Really,” Jennet said. “That time, at Roy’s, he was trying it on you. Don’t you remember? That’s why I got you out of there so fast.”
Marny sat up straight. Her gaze moved from Jennet to Tam. “You guys think you’re telling the truth, don’t you?”