by Vanessa Skye
“You better go…”
Baird hugs me again, and I get a little choked up as I recall the worry in his voice yesterday.
I think he really does care about me.
Chapter Eleven
The next two weeks are spent with Aiden pushing me harder than ever before, but I’ve finally begun landing blows, both with my fists and feet as well as with the sword and dagger. I’m not the only one bleeding at the end of the day now, and a large part of me finds immense satisfaction in that.
“Good,” Aiden says as during a break one morning. “You ar—”
“Land ahead!” the fae in the crow’s nest calls.
We turn and watch for several minutes as a faint shadow in the distance slowly takes the shape of rugged coastline filled with jagged rocks and steep cliffs.
Vivid green pastures lined by forest sit beyond the shores, and I watch as a stunning city reveals itself like a veil being lifted off a fairy tale. The sun casting rainbows in every direction as it glints off the steep golden spires adorned with colorful flags atop white towers reaching toward the heavens. Lush trees droop like mossy green braids between the pristine stone buildings.
“Éire,” Aiden says, with a smile, before striding off take the wheel. “I will steer her into port. Fly the standard!”
His men quickly frap a sail with a familiar, intricate pattern on it. It’s the same design as my mother’s pendant.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“It is,” Baird says behind me. He clasps my shoulder. “But do not let the beauty fool you. Nuadha is a warlord and used to being obeyed. We must tread carefully here. No one can know about your fire or your birth—not until you are safe and under his protection. With the full weight of Nuadha and his army behind you, no one will dare threaten your life again.”
I nod but can’t stop my voice from shaking when I ask, “And if he doesn’t offer us protection?”
“Then we hope for an opportunity to flee…” He doesn’t sound confident.
The coastline is close enough now I can make out fae walking around the quartz-covered pathways in between buildings. A few stop what they are doing and wave from the cliff tops.
Cheers ring out from the city, and the fae on board answer in kind, their drawn swords reflecting the sun in a dazzling display of light.
Aiden guides the ship through the azure water with a practiced hand, avoiding the nearby shoals, steep cliffs, and jagged rocks easily, as he slowly brings the vessel to a port nestled at the mouth of a glistening river.
Thick ropes are caught by the waiting dockhands, and soon enough, we step onto solid ground for the first time in over three weeks.
A group of grandly dressed men on horseback greet us as their gray steeds prance in place.
“General,” one calls out. “You have been gone for longer than we expected. And you bring guests?”
“Greetings, Fergus.” Aiden clasps the man’s forearm of the man. “I have much to report. Is the king in residence?”
“He is, although I fear you have chosen a bad day to return.”
“How so?” Aiden asks.
Fergus shakes his head as he walks back toward town.
We follow, and the rest of Aiden’s men fall in behind us.
“He must put the beast out of its misery today. He can no longer abide its suffering.”
Aiden frowns. “Ah, then this is a sad day indeed.”
“I hope you have good news to report. Anything else will only deepen his foul mood, I fear.” Fergus studies Baird and I. “Who are your guests?”
“Forgive my rudeness, I have much on my mind. This is Baird and his daughter, Alys. Alys hopes to tempt Nuadha to wed.”
Baird gives me a stern glare, and I swallow the retort ready to burst out of my mouth.
“Baird, Alys, this is Fergus, overseer of Chathair Mhór, the capital of Tír na nÓg,” Aiden says.
Fergus casts a critical eye over me. “You may want to clean her up first. She takes the appearance of a drowned rodent.”
I bite my tongue and taste blood.
Aiden laughs. “Indeed! If not for some friendly water fae, she’d be at the bottom of the ocean as we speak, and Nuadha could once again deny himself happiness.”
Fergus snorts. “She may as well be at the bottom of the ocean for all the interest Nuadha will have in her today. Let me show your guests to quarters while you see your men settled.”
Aiden nods, bidding me farewell with a sly wink, before leading his soldiers in the opposite direction, no doubt to be welcomed by comrades and family.
“Where are you from, friend?” Fergus asks as we head for our new rooms.
“The south,” Baird replies without any further explanation.
Fergus raises an eyebrow. “And you think this one will tempt our king to wed?” His tone leaves no doubt exactly how ridiculous he finds that notion.
“She is considered the most beautiful creature in my homeland.”
“Remind me never to visit the southern peoples,” Fergus mutters as he slides off his mount and scratches steps through the gate.
We step into a busy courtyard filled with fae selling all every imaginable manner of goods…and some quite unimaginable, too. Several vegetables are recognizable, but many aren’t, including carrots that are not just orange, but also yellow, red, and purple. Between the wagons loaded with food are piles of gowns, bedding, and other clothing sewn from rich, vibrant fabrics.
Fergus leaves his horse nibbling on fresh hay before leading us up stone steps to the second level of the main building.
While the outside of the dwelling is covered in white quartz and lush climbing ivy, the inside is filled with wood floors, carved ceilings, and hewed stone walls. Tall arched lead windows dapple our skin and clothing with dots of brilliant color as we stride toward a heavy oak panel door.
Inside is a sitting room with a wide stone fireplace and overstuffed embroidered chairs perched on a thick red rug. Stunning tapestries depicting brutal battle scenes hang on the walls, and I can see a bathing room and two bedrooms off to one side.
“You honor us with your choice of residence, Fergus,” Baird says with a bow of his head.
“All our guests have fled to avoid Nuadha’s current foul disposition. You have your pick of residences. I will have food and water for bathing brought to you.” Fergus looks at me and snorts again. “I will return after midday to escort you for presentation to the king. Stay in these rooms until then. Unaccompanied strangers are more likely to be killed than not at present.” He closes the door behind him, leaving us alone.
“Wow. He could have just pointed and laughed. At least I could’ve respected that kind of honesty,” I mutter and stomp around on legs still unaccustomed to solid ground in search of food to silence my snarling stomach.
“Have you forgotten this is merely a cover to get us an audience with the king? Do you wish to marry a man you have never met? One who is possibly the least agreeable fae on Tír na nÓg, which I am sure you will agree once you’ve met him.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.”
Finding nothing to eat, I stride into one of the bedrooms and unpack my meager belongings, hanging up the beautiful emerald dress in the vain hope that it might lose some of the deep wrinkles before I have to put it on.
I quietly whimper as I stare at the bed covered in smooth white sheets, fluffy animal skin throws, and piled high with pillows. The ship’s bunk, while comfortable enough, had nothing on the velvety dream bed I slept in at Rhiannon’s. This one, however, might actually come close.
I hear a timid knock on my door, and hoping food waits on the other side, I jerk it open quickly.
There’s no food, but instead, a young woman dressed in what looks like a giant potato sack and matching sack scarf wrapped around her hair. Between the rough fabric of her clothing and the eyes that never meet mine, I recognize her immediately as Talentless.
“Your bath is prepared, mistress.”
; My heart goes out to her. It’s not her fault she was born without magic. I recall all the prejudice and bullying I endured over the years, and a deep, pervasive anger swells inside me. She could have many talents in other areas, if anyone cared to look.
My fury must show because the woman steps away with a look of fear on her face.
I reach out, but she only retreats further.
I make an effort to smile, clasping my hands in my lap, and speak soft and evenly. “Thank you. You are very kind.”
I move toward the bathing room and settle into the hot bath with a moan, letting my aching muscles and chilled bones relax before washing the crusted salt off every inch of my body. My matted hair needs three rounds of sudsy shampooing before it is clear of all the brine, sweat, and seaweed.
My body may be covered in bruises, but my limbs are hard and lean, and I have strength I’ve never known before. Even after such short a time in this strange and unfamiliar world, I sense power growing inside me that has nothing to do with magic.
I can’t believe I let those stupid high school kids bother me so much. I wonder what Mom would think of everything I’ve been doing, and I desperately wish for a way to contact her, just to hear her voice and let her know I’m okay. Although, I’m pretty sure the training and the near drowning would horrify her, so perhaps it’s better I can’t. No need to make her worry more than she already does.
Filled with a sudden melancholy, I stifle my weeping as I bathe until I have no more tears left.
I step out of the lightly scented water—which must be more salt than fresh now—feeling clean and refreshed, in both body and mind.
Copying what Rhiannon showed me with the oil, I massage my hair and comb out the remaining knots until it falls in wet waves down my back, then wrap a fluffy cloth several times around my body head for the fire in the sitting room to dry my hair.
Baird is sitting there, already clean, dressed, and eating from a table piled high with meats, fish, fruits, and cheeses.
I quickly fill a plate, start shoving food in my mouth, and slow down just long enough speak around the large mouthful. “So, Fergus said the king is crankier than usual because of some problem with a beast? What did he mean?”
“King Nuadha is upset over Danu’s unicorn,” Baird says with a deep sigh. “Unfortunately this day has been a long time coming.”
I drop the wad of beef and cheddar on my plate, my mouth agape. “Unicorns are real?”
“They are certainly real here, although rare. It is a terrible shame to lose any unicorn, let alone the one Danu cherished as her own for three thousand years.”
“What is the matter with it?”
“It is suffering, not eating or drinking. Nuadha must put it out of its misery, or it will live for eternity in terrible torment.”
“He’s going to kill it?”
“He must.”
I frown. “Why isn’t it eating?”
“Unicorns are adopted and bond with their fae when they are only hours old. Once the unicorns have chosen, the animal will eat and flourish. However, if it does not bond, the beast will languish and suffer. And if the fae is lost, then the unicorn is also lost.”
“So, if it doesn’t have a fae, it won’t eat? Even if it’s hungry?” The idea is heartbreaking.
Baird picks at his food and shakes his head, his own sadness evident.
“Where is Danu?”
Baird sighs. “That is a question for the ages. She disappeared a millennium ago, and has not been seen by anyone since. We do not know if she is alive or merely forsaken her people. As one of the five gods of the universe, she created Tír na nÓg and all the creatures in it. Perhaps she left and joined with her brothers and sisters to create a new world. Perhaps we have displeased her in some way. None of us know.”
“Can she die? Isn’t she a goddess? I mean, is that even possible?”
“A thousand years ago, I would have said no. But now…”
“A thousand years? Her unicorn hasn’t eaten for a thousand years? How is it still alive?” My voice sounds like a high-pitched squeak by the time I reach the end of my rapid-fire questions.
“Unicorns are immortal, same as fae. They are one of the few animals that live for eternity. Now you see why it must be put down. Allowing it to suffer any longer would be intolerable.”
A heartsick lump sinks to the bottom of my stomach, and I’m no longer hungry. “And Nuadha is doing it? He’s the king.” A tear rolls down my cheek. “Can’t he…outsource?”
“He charged himself with the care of Danu’s beast when she disappeared, hoping she might one day return for her beloved mount or that it might bond with him. Neither occurred.”
“I can’t even imagine. That would kill me.”
“Yes. It is a terrible day for the fae…and not only because of the loss of this rare and beautiful animal. Once this beast is gone, so too is our last link to Danu.”
I escape to my room for a few minutes only to find my dress ironed and laying on the bed. Even the silver shoes are clean and pushed back into shape after being stuffed in the bottom of my pack for weeks.
Pushing the heartbreaking situation out of my mind for now, I check the mirror and focus on preparing to meet the king. My eyes are bright, my cheeks are pink, and my hair hangs it bright red curls down my back. It couldn’t have dried prettier if I kept a hairdresser on staff.
The sadness I’d been feeling eases as I notice how much better the dress fits now that I have a little muscle. The gown even hides the worst of the bruises while making the most of the slight curves I have developed. Looks like I finally have a little cleavage to display, too.
I tie my sword around my waist but forgo the boot dagger before wandering back out to the common area and, even though I just ate, polish off an entire tasty roasted yellow-fleshed bird plus a wheel of soft white cheese and several handfuls of plump purple and pink grapes, much to Baird’s openmouthed shock. I eat every bit with barely a breath between bites.
“Where do you put it all?” he asks.
“All this training…I’m starving. I out eat the deckhands lately, too.”
“I do not doubt it. Careful, or you may just test the resolve of the seams on that gown.”
My stomach snarls loudly again, and I frown.
Baird raises an eyebrow, and I shrug.
“The training? The drowning? I don’t know. I just know I’m hungry all the time.”
Two quick knocks and Fergus enters without invitation.
He glances at Baird with obvious boredom before his gaze settles on me. His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open. “W-well, you look…” he clears his throat, “…acceptable.” He gestures toward the door. “I will take you to the king now.”
We follow him down several long corridors filled with carved, vaulted ceilings, new rugs, and rich tapestries on the walls. It’s fancy without being flashy, though.
“Perhaps your daughter will be the one to entice the king from his eternal loneliness,” Fergus says as we walk. “I see she is quite the beauty, after all.”
“Perhaps,” Baird says with a shrug.
“In here.”
I was expecting a diamond palace with an ugly, scarred man wearing rich robes and a ruby-encrusted crown sitting on a golden throne. Instead, we walk inside an ordinary room with high-backed wooden chairs placed around a long rectangular table and surrounded by several fae murmuring to each other as they pour over papers and maps scattered across the tabletop. I don’t see a single crown in the crowd.
“Sire.” Fergus bows. “Friend Baird, of the southern peoples, and his daughter, Alys. They seek to entice you to wed.”
A fae seated at the far end of the wooden table rises.
Fergus lowers his eyes but makes his announcement in a full confident voice. “King Nuadha Airgetlám.”
Baird bows deeply, but I simply stare, my mouth practically on the floor.
He is beautiful. More than beautiful, he is magnificent. I’ve heard all the st
ories about old King Nuadha and his fake silver arm, but neither one of his arms is silver. They are smooth tanned and lightly dappled with blond hair. Wearing a simple, long royal blue tunic over worn brown leather pants, Nuadha stands at least a head taller than me, with long blond waves rippling to his waist. There is no crown on top of his golden head but a silver tri-point circlet like mine, showing he is of war. A silver breastplate, carved with the familiar pattern of Aiden’s boat and Mom’s pendant, rests firmly over his broad chest while his sword and scabbard are strapped to his back. He looks like the sculptures we used to see on museum fieldtrips come to life—a strong, straight nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and clear blue eyes that make the summer sky look dull. Despite being the ultimate war fae on this planet, not a single scar of any kind mars his smooth skin. And he is absolutely not old. At best, he looks about ten years older than me.
My heart pounds in my chest and sweat beads across my upper lip as he steps closer. Helllooooo teenage girl hormones.
Nuadha strides over, and Baird kicks me.
I quickly close my mouth and attempt a curtsey.
“Friend Baird. I have not seen you for decades. I thought you dead. And how are you suddenly of the southern peoples?” Nuadha asks in his deep, rumbling voice.
Baird rises and Nuadha holds out his hand. They clasp forearms with a slap.
“I am sorry to have made my return on such a sad day, Sire,” Baird says. “I have heard what you must endure.”
Pain mars the king’s beautiful face, and I have the irrational desire to touch him, hug him—do whatever I need to do to take away that look. No one that beautiful should ever be sad.
Nuadha looks at me for the first time. “And who is this? As far as I was aware, you have no faeling.”
I feel my cheeks blooming with a deep blush as his gaze flicks down my body before taking in my face and hair.
“She is exquisite, I agree, but you know how I feel about marriage. It may have been a while between ales for us, Baird, but that has not changed.” He regards Baird and me, pausing once again to study my face. An inscrutable expression passes across his beautiful features before smoothing out once more. “No. You are here for another purpose. What is it?”