by Vanessa Skye
“I am truly sorry. I do not know what came over me.” Breandán shakes his head then bows until his chine is almost resting on his chest.
“You will shadow this Talentless for an entire moon cycle,” Rhiannon tells him, pointing at Rowan. “You will help her with her chores, and you will learn some humility, or you, too, will be banished from this forest.”
Tears slide down his cheeks, but he nods.
Rhiannon looks at the others. “You will each be assigned a Talentless for the same duration. Also, you can rest assured I will be expressing my displeasure to your elders. You are an embarrassment to all fae.”
The boys look as though they’ve been slapped.
“If I hear of anything like this happening again, I will not be so kind!” She turns to me. “Thank you, Alys, for keeping a level head. I am ashamed a guest of my community was forced to intervene.”
“It’s o—”
Aiden puts his hand on Rhiannon’s shoulder. “The crowd will wonder where you have gone. Go back to your people. We will see the girl safely back to her quarters and ensure Alys gets some rest.”
“I thank you.” With tension and embarrassment clear in her expression and flush of her cheeks, Rhiannon still acknowledges Aiden, Baird, and me with a quick nod before storming off in a whirlwind of flowing hair and flapping red silk.
Aiden waits until she is gone before speaking again. “Aren’t you a surprise?” He winks.
“You’re not upset?” I whisper.
Baird, who is pacing off to my left, clearly is.
“Why would I be upset? It is once in a century a fae sees such a thing.” He frowns. “But just because I am not afraid, does not mean others won’t be. Baird?” He gestures toward Rowan.
Baird stiffly returns the nod.
“I will take care of these three and go and find Aife,” Aiden says. “I will see you in the morning, Alys.” He kisses the palm that held the fireball gently before fixing his gaze on the teens and muttering dearmad under his breath.
I look at Baird murmuring softly to Rowan. Her gaze goes blank for a moment, before she nods, smiles and walks away.
Baird practically growls as Aiden disappears into the trees and asks, “What part of keep your fire to yourself was unclear?” He grabs my elbow and yanks me into a dark corner.
“They were going to kill her!” I clench my fists and fight to keep my voice at a whisper as well. “I wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen. What was I supposed to do, let her die for the amusement of a spoiled brat? You said yourself I shouldn’t use my sword, so I had no choice!”
“You could have been killed for threatening the son of a leader with fire!” he says through clenched teeth.
“Oh.” I take a deep, shaky breath. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Obviously!” He also takes a deep breath. “We are very lucky Aiden was not disquieted by what he saw. It could easily have not been the case. You can imagine how uncontrolled fire in a tree-dwelling community might be a problem.” His sarcasm could cut steel. “It is their greatest fear. They have emergency procedures drilled into them from a young age to prevent fire.”
I look at my feet. “What will we do now? Do we need to leave…to sneak away?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Barring Aiden, you, and I, no one will remember you used fire. They will simply remember that you intervened. Your secret will remain safe, so long as you keep better control of yourself in the future. You are lucky we are dealing with a not yet fully grown fae—they are easier to manipulate.” He takes another deep breath. “We leave in the morning with Aiden and his men, as planned. Come, I will take you to your room. You’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
He holds his arm out to me once more, and we walk together.
“What are the Talentless?” I ask.
“The Talentless are exactly as they sound—fae born without a talent. They have no magic.”
“So they are human?”
“No, they are fae, but without any magic abilities. They are still tall and strong, and they will also live forever as long as long as they are here.”
“I didn’t know that could happen…”
“Not often, but it does happen. Once, the Talentless were valued by fae for their exceptional skills in agriculture and construction. They were considered the perfect partners for the magical—and often flighty and unpredictable—fae. Sadly, over the centuries, the regard waned. Now, the Talentless generally end up doing menial tasks within the community and have become Tír na nÓg’s underclass.
“Many are not happy with this, so leave their homes to form communities where they can control their own destinies alongside other Talentless, hiring out their skills as needed. A small percentage also roams Tír na nÓg in bands, robbing and raiding to sustain themselves and their families. Often, fae kill any Talentless they come across in retaliation, whether they are guilty of a crime or not.”
“That’s horrible!”
He nods. “I agree. But no society is perfect, and so long as the king lets it happen, there is nothing we can do.”
I feel sorry for poor Rowan and the life she leads through no fault of her own—a fact that horrifically mirrors the worst parts of mine. “Can’t everyone just be nice to each other? Is that so freaking hard?”
Baird lets out a bark of laughter. “Even after everything you have seen, you are still steeped in kindness. Never let go of that, Alys,” he says with a smile.
“Kindness is one thing, but it seems like, no matter which world we’re in, teenagers are just assholes.”
Baird belly laughs, a genuine sound full of pure amusement that I’ve never heard from him, and says, “A truth universal.”
He escorts me to my door, which is fortunate because I would have gotten hopelessly lost on my own in this leafy maze.
“We leave with Aiden at first light. Get some rest.” He waves and disappears behind his door.
Smiling, I realize I kind of like having a father, even if he is just a pretend one.
Chapter Eight
What feels like only minutes later, someone knocks on my door.
I groan and tug the soft blankets over my head. “A few more minutes!”
The door opens, and Baird’s voice snaps my eyes wide open.
“We leave in ten minutes. Get up.”
I poke my head out. “I don’t want to. I’m comfortable.” I snuggle back into my blanket cocoon and grumble. I know what’s coming next—nights on the ground followed by nights at sea. It’s the last time I’ll be in a comfortable bed for a while, and I intend to savor every minute of it. “Besides, I don’t have anything to wear anyway. I can’t stomp around the forest in a silk gown, can I?”
“What are those clothes for then?”
I look over the edge of the blanket and see a folded pile of warm clothing at the end of the bed and sturdy knee-high leather boots on the floor. Jeez! I really was tired. Someone not only left clothes, but stoked the fire, and left a plate of meats on the table, too.
“This is yours.” Baird drops a canvas pack on the ground. “Get dressed. I will be waiting outside.”
I groan and shove the covers off. “So unfair,” I mutter as I tug on the heavy green tunic, brown leather pants and shoes, then fasten the belt and sword in place. With the thick fabric jacket lined with fleece topping it all off, I’m warm and dry but hardly feeling inspired.
I look longingly at the emerald dress and silver shoes. Poking my tongue out in the general direction of the door where Baird is waiting, I stuff them inside the pack alongside another set of clothing and packages of dried meat, nuts, and fruits.
I finish my morning ritual and am midway through wolfing down a cold breakfast when the loud pounding starts once again.
“I’m coming!” I yell. Jesus, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet.
Rhiannon strolls inside with a smile. “Are you prepared?”
“Oh!” I fight the disturbing urge to fall on my knees and b
eg her to let me stay. What lies ahead seems scary and overwhelming. Here I am comforted. Here, I am safe. It feels like forever since I felt safe. “Um, yeah, I guess.”
“Not quite.” She holds up a comb and a bottle. “Males tend to forget such necessities when they pack for travel.”
Tears gather in my eyes. “Thank you.” I love this woman so much.
“Sit, let me help you.” She gestures toward the bed before joining me. “I always wanted a daughter,” she says as she runs the comb softly through my hair. “Just so I could attend to her in this way. There seems to be a special bond between mother and daughter.” She sighs.
I nod and sneak a hand up to brush away the tears brought on by the memory of Mom’s smiling face.
“My son brings me joy in a different way, however, and he and his father are very close. He would have been so disappointed in Breandán’s behavior last night, so I have chosen not to tell him.” She gathers sections of my hair, and soon, a tight braid falls in a thick tail down my back tied securely at the end with leather. “There,” she says. “Now you are prepared.”
She hands me the comb and oil, and a final tear slips down my cheek.
I want to hug her, but I’m not sure if fae hug. Warm head nods seem to be the height of affection in this place.
She surprises me when she pulls me to her chest.
Wanting so much to be able to embrace my mother like this, just one more time, I cling to her.
“You are special, child of fire,” she whispers in my ear. “Do not let anyone make you feel ashamed or less than you are. As a daughter of three worlds, you will change Tír na nÓg for the better.” She squeezes me and then walks out the door without looking back.
I dry my face, sling my pack over my shoulder, and open the door to find Baird waiting with his foot tapping and arms crossed.
“Good idea,” he says, nodding at my hair. “You will be slightly less conspicuous provided you keep the fireballs to yourself.”
I scowl. “You sure are snippy this morning.”
“So are you.” He sighs. “But I apologize. There is no coffee on Tír na nÓg, and after two days, I am suffering. Yet another human vice I must learn to live without.”
I nod. I never tried coffee myself, but Mom certainly couldn’t do without a few cups of the strong brew to reach, what she called, fit for human interaction in the morning.
“Where is Aiden?” I ask, trying not to look down as I follow Baird around the winding spiral stairs to the base of the magnificent tree.
“He is busy getting the horses ready. His men have already set out.”
Oh, boy. “Um…horses?” This should be interesting. The closest I’ve ever been to a horse is watching old westerns with Mom.
“Just mimic what I do. You will pick it up.”
“Baird?”
“Yes?”
“Why would anyone call me a child of three worlds?”
He stops and stares at me then frowns. “I don’t know. Who did?”
I shake my head. Rhiannon also called me a fire user. Whether she saw the fireball or only suspected it, I don’t know. “It’s nothing. A strange dream is all.”
We reach the forest floor and strain to see in the low light and early morning mist as we set out on the soft moss and fallen leaves.
When we arrive at a small clearing, Aiden is waiting with three gray-speckled horses. He jumps on the back of one with ease and grasps its long mane.
I raise my eyebrows at Baird in alarm. I might not know much about horses, but I think they should have saddles, at the very least. These have nothing. No saddles, no reins, and no stirrups.
He pauses and, using deliberate movements, grabs his horse’s mane then jumps onto its back in a single, fluid bound before leading the animal beside mine and partially obscuring Aiden’s view.
I crouch and jump, somehow managing to briefly settle my rump on the back of the horse before overbalancing and sliding off the other side. Who knew horses were so slippery?
Baird grabs my elbow and pulls me back into the saddle before I hit the ground.
I nod, grateful I didn’t end up sprawled out in all my graceful glory in front of Aiden, and latch on to a handful of hair as Aiden leads us out of the clearing. I assume the horse knows what he—she? it?—is doing because I don’t have the first clue how to direct this thing even with reins and stirrups.
“How far ahead are your men?” Baird calls out.
“They started traveling just before first light. We should catch up with them by noon,” he replies.
I study Baird and Aiden carefully as they ride. They seem relaxed, using their hold on the horses’ manes for balance rather than direction.
Aiden squeezes his muscular thighs around his mount’s ribcage, and the horse turns in the opposite direction.
I copy his movement and my horse easily turns the same way. Okay, this isn’t so hard.
It’s a pleasant ride through the trees and morning mist but stunningly quiet. I never realized how much traffic and the dull hum of people living in such close proximity were a part of my background until it was gone. The silence seems almost overwhelming.
A rush of gurgling water reminds me of the old apartment’s plumbing, and I spot the source coming from hollowed logs, acting like downspouts, set up along the side of a huge trunk before disappearing into a pit at the roots. Several of the other trees have the clever system I’d missed walking in the night before.
Talk about keeping it organic. This is brilliant!
The men kick their horses into a trot, and pull my attention away from the fae plumbing genius and follow.
Where they make a trot look graceful and easy, I flop. My arms and legs bounce and bang in every direction, like an ostrich trying to fly. I’m fairly convinced my ass has a magnet tied to the horse’s spine as my butt bone finds his back with another hard whack. Holy crap, make it stop! My new pants feel like they are lined with sandpaper.
As if I said it out loud, my mount comes to a halt so abrupt that I lose my precarious balance, flip over his head, and land in an undignified heap on the soft leaves and moss with a loud oof.
Aiden and Baird’s horses rear, bucking and whinnying, in an attempt to defy control.
Happy I’m not injured beyond my pride and stinging inner thighs, I pick myself up and brush away the dead leaves.
Aiden mutters something I can’t quite hear while stroking his horse’s neck gently. The animal calms but its distressed snorts are still visible in the cool air. “Do you smell it?” he asks Baird.
Baird nods, trying to calm his horse’s desperate urge to run. “I do. Fae blood, nearby.”
They both dismount, and Aiden pulls a dagger from one of his knee-length boots.
I am surprised when Baird also produces one from his. It’s kind of weird seeing my teacher holding a wicked-looking knife.
“Stay here,” he says as they melt into a thicket of trees.
I don’t know who is more nervous and wide-eyed as we wait, the horses or me.
I glance back and forth from my location to the spot where the men disappeared. There is not a single sound in the forest—not the call of a bird, the slither of an insect, or the soft fall of Baird and Aiden’s footsteps—nothing but the almost hysterical sound of my panting breaths.
Several long, silent minutes pass.
A twig snaps, the horses’ eyes roll, and they buck and vanish into the trees, nothing but hooves and tail.
“Baird?”
Nothing.
“Aiden?”
Nothing.
My heart pounds and sweat breaks out across my upper lip, despite the fact I’m soaked to the bone from the ever-present mist.
“The hell with this…” I mutter, drawing the sword I have no idea how to use and holding it in front of me with both shaky hands as I head in the same direction the men went. I follow a narrow trail through the brush.
My nose wrinkles as a familiar scent of vanilla and chocolate overlaid w
ith an unpleasant metallic taste in the back of my throat wafts over me.
I shriek as the sharp blade of a knife presses to my throat from behind.
“Alys!” Aiden curses, removing the blade. “I could have killed you!”
“T-the horses ran away, and n-no one answered me…”
“Come,” he says, beckoning with a toss of his head.
A few short feet through the fog and we find Baird standing over a bundle of clothing where the metallic smell is stronger, trigging my stomach to flip toward my throat.
Then, the world slows.
I realize the bundle of clothes are covering a body lying between two trees with an ugly ragged gash curling around the slender, pale throat like a morbid choker.
I follow the long tendrils of hair, growing upward like bleached vines, out of the settled pool of congealed blood.
Aife.
Her face is blue, her lips black, and her beautiful irises…
“Oh!” I cover my eyes and spin around.
Too late. I will never get the sight of the dead fae out of my mind. It is one thing to see a dead body on television, but a whole other ballgame in real life. The reality is horrifying.
“She has been dead for a while. She is cold,” Baird says behind me. “Did you find anything?”
“Just your faeling here. The murderer—or murderers—are long since gone from this forest,” Aiden replies. “We are alone.”
I make a concerted effort to look anywhere but the body. “W-what h-happened?”
“The Talentless would be my guess.” Aiden sheathes his knife in his boot once more. “Likely not long after I altered her memory and escorted her from Rhiannon’s people.” He sighs. “Foolish! I should not have left her alone in the dark, but I did not sense trouble…”
“You could not know, General,” Baird says and stands. “Are you sure it was the Talentless? Perhaps it was retribution for last night?”
Aiden shrugs. “It is possible, although unlikely. They were only teens and surely not capable of such a violent and bloody act as this. Her pack and sword are gone. A Talentless robbery is more likely the cause of this terrible and pointless death.”