by Vanessa Skye
The noise of the market fades as we head farther into the tunnels. The silence underground becomes absolute until the fae throws open a smaller wooden door for me, and a cheery fire crackling in a room reminiscent of the one at Rhiannon’s greets me.
I groan as I stand as close to the fireplace as I can without actually setting myself ablaze and take in a bed, a deep wooden tub, and a bathroom off to one side.
The fae sets about warming water for the tub. She is fast and efficient—but is clearly not Talentless, not with the magnificent aura of magic sparkling around her.
“I am pleased to see you don’t use Talentless for these tasks,” I say. “Do they work somewhere else in the city?”
She shakes her head as she fills my bath with lush-smelling oils. “We have banished the Talentless from this community. It means more work for the rest of us, but it’s a small price to pay, really.”
“Banished them? That wasn’t what—but why?”
She stares, wide-eyed and unblinking then shakes her head, grabbing the boiling water from the fire and pouring it into the tub. “Surely you have heard about the raids on the fae communities? Éire cannot shelter abominations any longer. We sent them away, and not a moment too soon, either. If you ask me, those animals should be slaughtered at birth.”
“Animals?” I mutter. “You’re talking about killing innocent babies!”
“Innocent babies? Ha! Babes that attack us indiscriminately!”
“And what have you done? Made them servants? Banished them? Murdered them?” I close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. “Let’s be clear. The ones who lived here attacked you themselves, did they?”
The anger in her gaze slips, and she looks away. “Well, no. No, their brethren were responsible, but…they are all the same.”
“To say all Talentless are the same as a bad few is like saying all fae are ignorant, bigoted fools, which is certainly my opinion given my present company! You can go.”
“Have I offended you?” she asks. “I did not mea—”
“The entire fae attitude toward so-called Talentless offends me. Get out.” I point to the door and wait until it clicks behind her before sinking into the bath.
Instead of enjoying the warming water, I seethe quietly over the woman and her horrible attitude toward her own people.
I quickly wash my hair, oil and brush it out with the comb, and then realize I have nothing to wear to dinner and no idea where to find food. Part of me doesn’t care—the idea of falling into oblivion between the white sheets of the canopied bed is appealing. Someone is bound to bring me some food eventually—the fae are nothing if not unfailingly polite to visitors—and if not, I can always dip into my rations.
I heave a sigh of disappointment, step out of the bath, dry my hair as best I can, and wrap a large cotton cloth around me.
“Come in,” I say sadly when a knock sounds on the door.
Aiden strides in, handsome as ever in his bright green tunic and brown leather pants, and throws me a bundle of white fabric. “Thought you might want this.”
I hold it up and gasp as a sweep of silk unfurls, revealing at a beautiful white dress with colorful gems sewn in long lines down the bodice and skirt and glinting merrily in the firelight. “It’s beautiful!”
The reflection of the jewels cast patterns over the white fabric and change color with every movement. My silver slippers will go perfectly with it.
“I saw it and thought of you. I think the vendor robbed me, to be frank. He could see how much I wanted it,” he says and laughs.
“You bought it for me? You didn’t have to do that. It must have cost a lot!”
He shrugs. “What else does a career soldier have to spend his coin on?”
“I-I can’t accept it.” I hold it out to him. “It’s too much.”
“What? Nuadha is the only fae who can give you gifts?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. “I saw the dagger. It will go perfectly with this gown, Alys. I want you to have it. Please accept it, along with my devotion.” His green eyes sparkle as he smiles at me.
“Thank you,” I whisper. Two presents in one day, I feel overwhelmed. “It is beautiful.”
“Put it on. Let’s see how it looks.”
For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to watch me change, but he gestures toward the bathroom and turns his back politely.
I can’t figure Aiden out. Sometimes, I think he might be interested in me romantically, and other times, he treats me like his best friend. Baird warned me fae males weren’t subtle in their attentions, yet Aiden’s attentions are so subtle I often wonder if I am imagining them.
I look in the mirror and smile. The gown fits perfectly, the gems twinkle in the dim light, and the deep V-necked bodice displays what is definitely improved cleavage. With only slight adjustment, I’m delighted to note my cup size must have doubled since I arrived in this world. Perhaps there are some advantages to living here, after all.
Fluffing out my drying hair, I step back into the main room with a beaming smile on my face that is soon matched by Aiden’s.
“You look wonderful! I fear there will be even more broken hearts left in your wake this evening, Alys. I have not done the men of my species any favors.”
I laugh.
“Here,” he says, holding out the dagger. “You better wear Nuadha’s gift, too.”
He shows me how to attach the scabbard to my sword belt, so the two weapons are within easy reach with one on each hip.
Aiden holds out his arm.
I sigh. “Do we have to?”
“Are you not hungry?” he asks with a frown. “Do you need a healer?”
“No, it’s not that. I-I was talking to the fae, the one who led me here. She spoke of Talentless fae like they were…she told me she…she said they sent away all Talentless fae who lived here. It’s winter, and this was their home! Where are they going to go?”
“Ah. Yes, this is true. In fact, on our way here, we encountered two groups of the Talentless seeking food and shelter. I fear this kind of mass displacement is going to be all too common if attacks continue. Retribution and vengeance are assured.”
“Those poor people,” I say, a tear making its way down my cheek. “There has to be some way to find peace, some kind of deal that can be made.”
“How? They have no one to speak for them.”
“I will speak for them!”
He shakes his head and sighs. “I fear Nuadha is not in a peaceful frame of mind, Alys.”
“So he would just leave them all to die, alone and cold?”
“Never fear, kindhearted Alys, I directed the Talentless to shelter. They will not freeze or starve this winter, no matter how much some fae may want them to. Not all fae are unsympathetic.”
He takes my arm and we walk toward the market hall, but instead of stalls, I see the huge space has been transformed into a large dining area with many long benches filled with food, several fires, multiple music fae dancing and playing instruments, and Nuadha holding court at the far end.
We take no more than three steps before the king’s gazes sweep overs me in what looks surprisingly like admiration for about half a heartbeat. Just long enough for him to catch sight of my arm linked with Aiden’s, and his lips thin.
We sit at the midway point of Nuadha’s table, Aiden on my left, and Baird on my right, as the hum of constant discussion continues. The topic of the evening, Talentless and their banishment.
I concentrate on eating as, one after another, fae file toward Nuadha to bitch and moan about Talentless. A few even ask the king to banish them from Tír na nÓg for good. I am pleased he doesn’t and, in fact, reprimands several community leaders for the banishments already performed, explaining it will only make the problem worse.
By the end of the meal, the royal has promised to set up yet another garrison at this and other nearby communities to protect them from the constant raids.
He beckons Aiden over while pointedly avoiding looking in my direction in the process.
As the music grows louder and the fae drink more wine and ale, their complaints become more bitter, and I grind my teeth while listening to them blame Talentless fae for everything from the raids to failed crops and sour milk. It has a nasty Salem witch trials feel about it, and my temper finally snaps.
“I can’t listen to this anymore,” I mutter to Aiden and Baird as I stand and storm back to the quiet of my room.
Chapter Eighteen
After the dinner and bitchfest with the earth fae, Nuadha outlaws any fae from banishing more Talentless.
But the next several weeks are mind-numbingly similar as we visit recovering communities and run into even more groups of Talentless, rootless and lining the roads we travel, begging for help, food, clothing—anything we can offer—and clutching their children in a vain attempt to keep them warm. His order either hasn’t reached the areas we visit, or they don’t care, as hundreds roam the freezing landscape seeking shelter.
The majority of the fae traveling with us ignore those in need as though they don’t exist.
Nuadha, Aiden, Baird, and I help where we can, but the refugee tide is relentless, and there is only so much we can do.
With every look of fear on each Talentless fae face, my pain and rage grow.
Another morning of an endless stream of pleading gaunt faces cast aside by fae sends me over the edge of my limit, and I ride into a nearby thicket to cry. I don’t even bother to get off Mandrake. I just stuff a piece of cloth in my mouth, muffling my sobs, while Aiden dismounts in the distance and, in a hushed voice, directs Talentless to a place they can find shelter.
Affection for him floods though me, and I dry my eyes and ride back out to Nuadha and his men, pausing only long enough to give Aiden a wobbly smile.
Despite Aiden’s covert intervention, my mood becomes surlier, and soon enough, the other fae are actively avoiding me.
King Nuadha signals a sudden halt.
“Why are y—”
Nuadha holds up his hand and scowls.
I follow his line of sight to the hazy red horizon. “Smoke?” I ask, alarmed.
He nods grimly. “Indeed. Too much of it to be simple hearth fires.” He kicks his horse into a hard gallop with Mandrake and I right on their heels.
Mandrake overtakes Nuadha’s mount with ease.
“Take care, Alys,” the king shouts as I pass. “We do not know what awaits us!”
I nod and draw my sword. Glancing back, I see Aiden and the rest of our small army only a half-mile back. They will arrive not long after us, which gives me comfort despite what we may find.
In a matter of minutes, I reach the forest—or what’s left of it. Black smoldering stumps replace what were once huge trees, judging by the sheer width of the twisted and gnarled charred trunks. Not even the moss or soft leaves are left. It’s all gone, nothing but dirt, dust, and death. The destruction stretches as far as I can see in the thick smoke.
I shove a piece of torn water-soaked tunic around my mouth and nose to stave off choking as soot and fine ash rain down, and a flutter of red drifts past and brushes my cheek.
I grab it and recognize a small piece of burnt canvas similar to that used in fae clothing.
Nuadha, his face a mask of shock and grief, reins his horse in beside me and dismounts.
I hold up the fabric. “There was a community here!”
“I know. A large forest fae community.” He stalks into the remains, examining the devastation around him, and removes a fleece-lined, leather glove and touches the still-smoldering tree trunks. “Too late,” he mutters. “Always too late.”
I know what he means. Apart from the skirmish we had with Talentless at the Forest of Eadrom months ago, we seem to arrive too late to prevent any attacks. It’s as though Talentless are always one step ahead, and we simply follow in their wake picking up the pieces.
The farther we walk into the ruins, the more chunks of hewed stone and lumps of molten metal we find, but there are no bodies, and for that I am grateful. Whatever happened, it looks as though the forest fae had a chance to evacuate.
“Are forest fires common during the winter?’ I ask Nuadha as Aiden, Baird, and the rest of the men join us with swords drawn.
“They can be,” Nuadha says. “There are more fires to tend in cold weather, and therefore, more chance for flames to get out of control. But these communities are well versed in containing outbreaks. Buckets of water are always at the ready, as are magical talents. I have never seen destruction so thorough as this from a simple hearth fire.” Nuadha glances at Aiden questioningly.
Shaking his head, he holds his hands up and shrugs. “Nor have I.”
I walk deeper into the destruction, my hands and clothes blackened from the soot, and Mandrake follows me, sniffing the ground like a bloodhound.
Dragon.
“Dragon?” I ask aloud.
Nuadha’s head snaps up. “What did you say?”
“He says a dragon did this.”
Nuadha looks around with wide eyes, as if a cloak has been lifted. “Of course,” he whispers. “The last time I saw destruction such as this…”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Hang on. Dragons are real?”
He nods, his beautiful lips pursed in a thin line. “They were, but I have not seen or heard from one in several millennia, not since Fomoiri were banished from these lands. Without their masters, dragons faded into the ether, traveling to more friendly worlds as is their right. I thought none remained.”
“Well, at least one does,” Aiden says grimly. “These people didn’t stand a chance.”
Tears well in my eyes. “There were p-people here?”
The men nod.
“They stood no chance if the dragon attacked without warning,” Baird says. “The destruction is total.”
“Curse the gods for forsaking us!” Nuadha bellows as he slams a fist into a burnt stump so hard its gives an almighty crack and then topples over. “This is all we need now. We are already fighting the Talentless raiders. Lir is making threats, and now, a dragon? Where is Danu?”
Aiden and Baird move away, and I look around at everyone smeared in black soot.
“Why would a dragon attack this community?” I ask.
“Dragons do as they wish. There is no rhyme or reason to their devastation. If it weren’t this community, it would have been another. They dole out fear and death indiscriminately, and nothing else,” Nuadha says.
Screw the fairy tales. “Will it come back?” I’m not sure I want to see a creature capable of reducing a thousands-year-old forest to ash so easily.
“Why? Its work here is done. It is the other settlements of Tír na nÓg that should be fearful.”
“How do we destroy it?” I ask as we gather our mounts and ride away from the smoking ruins.
“There is no destroying a dragon,” Nuadha says, his expression grim. “All fae must be vigilant from now on. Make it known all forest communities should retreat and go to ground.”
Aiden nods and orders a runner to spread the word back to Chathair Mhór.
“But wait…you said you’d seen a dragon do this before?”
Nuadha nods stiffly.
“So, how did you stop the attacks the first time?” I ask.
“I didn’t. Danu did.” He spurs his horse forward.
Aiden trots his horse beside Mandrake. “Dragons were the servants of the Fomoiri when they invaded Tír na nÓg. Only they could command the ancient creatures and get them to do their bidding. When they disappeared, so did the dragons…or so we thought.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s-it’s like a nuclear bomb went off!”
Aiden sighs. “I do not know what is happening, war, death, destruction. I fear my beloved homeland is disappearing. If dragons return…well, without the help of Danu, we cannot fight them. Fae will be reduced to hiding underground and living in constant fear. Most of them would rather die.”
We ride in silence for a while.
“So, what else is real here?’ I ask. “So far, we have dragons, fairies and unicorns. What about elves? Trolls? Goblins? Do any of them exist?”
“Not in Tír na nÓg, no,” Aiden replies with a snort. “But who knows what exists on other worlds?”
“I don’t want to know. I barely have a handle on this one.”
He laughs. “You have more than that, Alys. You are blossoming. Even in the short time I’ve known you, you have grown in both beauty and strength. Be proud of yourself.”
“Th-thank you.” I blush and look away.
Chapter Nineteen
Mercifully, we find no evidence of any more dragons over the next few weeks, but every fae village we visit has recently repelled an attack or was routed altogether. Nuadha leaves troops in each community where the occupants cannot be persuaded to travel to Chathair Mhór for their protection.
Nuadha and I survey the damage of yet another deserted village, the fifth in almost as many days.
“Our only recourse is war.”
I pick through the debris a few paces away. “Surely there is a peaceful solution.”
“Alys!” Nuadha spins and faces me, throwing his hands wide. “What else would you have me do? Fae are being driven from their homes by the thousands, and those who remain are killed. Runners traveling between here and Chathair Mhór speak of thousands of refugees fleeing their homes before they, too, are murdered in their beds. This cannot continue. I know you feel for the plight of the Talentless, but surely, even you can see this?”
I look at the deserted earth fae community and several fae soldiers lying dead on the muddy ground. Their corpses have been stripped of anything valuable, including their weapons. At least we found bodies this time. Usually, all we find are charred remains as Talentless have taken to setting fire to the communities they have destroyed.
My gaze skips over their blood-smeared bodies and faces as Nuadha’s men gather them and place them gently on a large funeral pyre.