Lies in the Dark

by Robert J. Crane

  “What’s the matter?” I whispered.

  “Unseelie,” Lockwood said. “She’s a tyls.”

  “A what?”

  “A Tylwyth Teg,” he said. “They are the sorts of faeries that humans are more likely to encounter … and they are often despised because of how they seduce men.”

  The tyls giggled, sounding like a set of bells, and fluttered her eyelashes at us. “Me, seduce? Noooo.”

  Lockwood yanked me away from where we had been standing. I looked back.

  The spot where we had been standing was encircled by small, round white stones of varying sizes, wild and ancient looking.

  “Fairy circles …” I mumbled. “I’ve read about these on—” and then bit off the word Earth. After all, I was supposed to be a faerie.

  Lockwood nodded in her direction. “It’s her kind that leaves them behind, very commonly here. Very seldom elsewhere.” He gave me a look of significance.

  “It sounded like the two of you were in trouble,” the golden haired girl said, her eyes wide, “so I put it down to protect you.”

  “We don’t need your protection,” Lockwood said. “Now begone.”

  “I can help you,” she said, her voice as smooth as velvet.

  “No,” Lockwood said flatly, and he grabbed onto my hand and started dragging me along the path up toward Stormbreak.

  “Wait!”

  She flew, actually flew, and landed right in front of us on the path, her face sad, her eyes wide.

  “Get out of the way,” Lockwood said angrily. “I’m warning you.”

  “You have no weapons,” she said. “But I can take you to a shop where no questions will be asked. You can get whatever you need—”

  “I am not going to listen to you,” Lockwood said. “Every word you say drips with lies, Unseelie—”

  “No, please!” She grabbed the front of Lockwood’s tunic, serious now. “Please! I need your help, too.”

  “Ah, now there might be the real truth,” Lockwood said. “You don’t care to help us. You just want something yourself.”

  “Well, doesn’t everyone?” the woman said, crossing her legs in midair as if she were seated instead of floating on whispering wings. “I help you, and you help me. We both win. What’s so wrong with that?”

  “You are Unseelie,” Lockwood said. “Therein lies all the wrong.”

  “An Unseelie who has been ostracized by the Unseelie court …” the woman said, her wings sagging as she landed on the ground once more.

  That sounded awfully familiar. I looked sideways at Lockwood, but he didn’t react.

  She resumed her child-like stance, clasping her hands together as if in prayer, and bowed her head. “I have experienced some … events that have caused me trouble with the Unseelie court. Misunderstandings from me trying to protect those I care about. And in doing so, others have been hurt, or don’t understand …” The girl sighed heavily. “And so now I wander, cast out of the Winter Court.”

  She floated back to the ground and stamped her foot, very much like a little girl, her bottom lip protruding.

  “It’s not safe for me in Unseelie territory right now. I need help getting to neutral territory. And you need to cross into Seelie territory. Well, I happen to know the way, and you can help me cross safely into the neutral territory on your way.” She brightened. “We both win.”

  Lockwood shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t care a feather whether you make it to neutral territory or not. Your problems with your court are your own.”

  “You don’t understand,” she said, flushing bright scarlet. “No one does. But I had to do what I did. I had to keep the secrets I did.”

  Listening to her, it suddenly felt like I’d been struck upside the back of the head with a baseball bat.

  This faerie … she just said everything that I had ever thought myself about my own situation with the vampires.

  “Lockwood …” I said, reaching out and putting my hand on his shoulder, “…maybe we should help her.”

  “What?” He looked back at me, green eyes burning emerald with emotion. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “But she can’t lie,” I said. “She’s telling us the truth about what she’s going through.”

  “She may not be able to lie directly,” Lockwood said, “but she is very likely leaving out crucial information. For instance, maybe she’s being followed. Or that her wickedness was so great that she caused unrest in the court.”

  I looked at her. She was staring at me with immense, round eyes. Her pupils were large, her golden irises nearly engulfed by the blackness, beautiful and mysterious. I could see why men would be seduced by creatures like her.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Cassandra, no—” Lockwood said.

  “Orianna,” she said. “Please,” and she switched to a tone of begging, her hands clasped tightly together. She was trembling, her narrow shoulders hunched. “I have no other hope. They will find me soon, and I can’t get through to neutral territory on my own.”

  “Why don’t you just go to the gate and back out into the rest of Faerie?” I asked.

  Her eyes narrowed. “To the wilds? And be eaten alive? You jest.”

  I glanced at Lockwood. “What?”

  “I thought that would be obvious,” he said. “It goes down to why I was trying to keep you quiet on our travel. It isn’t safe for us faeries out there, is it? Especially ones who have been ostracized.”

  “No armor, no weapons, no wands …” Orianna said quietly. “To have been cast out … truly cast out … No one who hasn’t gone through it can understand how utterly defenseless you feel.”

  Wands? Before I could ask about them, Orianna continued.

  “But I can get you into the town,” she said. “If we go in together, we will be safer. They don’t look as closely at parties. The castouts seldom band together. There’s much more margin to preying on one another—if they survive even long enough to manage that.”

  “You are leading us into a trap,” Lockwood said.

  “No, I’m not,” she scowled. “Why won’t anyone believe me?”

  “Because you’re Unseelie,” Lockwood said, as though that settled it.

  “I believe you,” I said.

  Both she and Lockwood looked at me in surprise. But I did.

  “I know how it feels to live the way you are …” I told her. “Always running from those who don’t believe you. Having to keep secrets in order to protect yourself because no one will understand.”

  Orianna was standing before me, and she took my hands in hers, squeezing them tightly. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “You … you understand?”

  I nodded.

  Lockwood was standing behind her, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Lockwood … I am helping you,” I said. “The very least we can do is help her, too. She’s clearly in a rough situation … one that we are very familiar with.”

  Lockwood studied my face, and I could see him pleading in his own way. He did not want to have anything to do with her. And normally, I would trust him and understand. Especially here in Faerie, where I was the stranger who knew nothing.

  But I could understand her … and faeries couldn’t lie, by Lockwood’s own admission. Maybe she wasn’t telling us the full truth, but … I could see it in her eyes. She did need help.

  “And if she can get us into the town, isn’t that better that not?” I asked.

  Orianna nodded her head. “You won’t be able to get through alone. You know that.”

  Lockwood crossed his arms over his chest.

  “And I promise that I won’t betray you.” This she said with utter, wide-eyed sincerity.

  “That’s no lie,” I said, and looked at Lockwood. He did not meet my eyes as he nodded, so very slightly, waving his own flag of surrender.

  Chapter 11

  “You’ll need some convincing glamours,” Orianna said, her hair swirling around her as if it had a life o
f its own. “Come to think of it, so will I …”

  Lockwood sighed heavily and snapped his fingers. His hair withdrew back into his scalp right before my eyes, and he was entirely bald. His eyebrows darkened, and his eyes were suddenly red.

  I flinched away from him. With the scowl on his face, he looked downright evil.

  “Lockwood?” I asked, looking down at myself.

  “Don’t worry, yours is not as … terrible,” he said.

  Orianna looked different, too. Her wings were grey now, like smoke. Her hair and eyes were the same shade, and her pupils appeared more normal.

  “But her face is the same,” I said, a little dubiously.

  “Aww,” Orianna said sadly, frowning at Lockwood. “You aren’t going to change my features?”

  “Must I?” Lockwood asked.

  She nodded. “If you don’t, I’ll be recognized.”

  He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers once more.

  Her jaw widened, her nose grew, and her eyelashes turned white. She turned to me for confirmation.

  “Better,” I said. Orianna beamed.

  We started on the slow path down to the city, the multi-colored smoke wafting out of the chimneys growing nearer with every step we took. Lockwood eyed it all warily, the stone towers getting taller as we drew closer.

  “You need to be careful in Stormbreak,” Lockwood said, as Orianna outpaced us slightly.

  “How so?” I asked.

  He gave me a pointed look. “Try not to adopt any more strays, for one thing. Even ones with pitiable stories. Sweet lies, every one of them.”

  I rolled my eyes. “She’s not lying, Lockwood. And she’s not a dog.”

  The city loomed ever closer, and Orianna kept hurrying ahead of us like … uh, well, a dog, then rushing back to greet us once more. In spite of Lockwood’s worries, though, she seemed harmless enough. Maybe a little over excited about, well … everything. So again, like a dog.

  “So the baldness, the evil stare … is that what Unseelie look like?” I asked.

  “Largely, yes.” Lockwood glowered, and I had to keep reminding myself that it was really him, not some stranger. He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt, and just on the underside of his wrist was a symbol. An intricate, incredibly detailed snowflake resided there, like a tattoo in silvery ink. “This is also different. Seelie have a star, instead.”

  “But you knew she was an Unseelie before you even looked at her wrist,” I said, nodding at Orianna, fluttering about a hundred feet ahead of us.

  “Because of the fact that she was all gold,” Lockwood said. “Tyls are all that way. And they are all Unseelie.”

  Orianna appeared again, zipping out of the air next to us. “Okay, let me do the talking. They’ll check you at the gate.”

  Lockwood frowned. “If they suspect us to be Unseelie, why shouldn’t I say anything?”

  “Are you a fool?” She laughed out loud. “Haven’t you heard?”

  “Heard what?” Lockwood asked, though I could see his face had paled.

  “The attacks? The hidden spell work?”

  Lockwood shook his head.

  “The duel?”

  She threw her head back and laughed again. “Where have you been, Seelie? The world has fallen apart while you were away.”

  Was this something to do with what happened to Lockwood? Did this have to do with the murder he had mentioned?

  “You can’t get into Stormbreak unless you have reason, especially if you aren’t a resident,” she said. “It’s contested territory at this point.”

  “So it’s a dangerous town?” I asked.

  Orianna’s eyes sparkled at my question. “Very. Why do you think I want to be out of here so badly?”

  Goosebumps appeared on my arms, and I was glad she couldn’t see them under the glamour.

  “Contested?” Lockwood asked. “Why … the only reason that would happen is if …”

  Orianna nodded. I noticed her toes were just scraping the ground as she hovered with her wings.

  “What?” I asked.

  Orianna flashed a look at me. “What, are you from the reaches?” She flicked her gaze at Lockwood. “Where have the two of you been hiding, to be so ignorant of current affairs?”

  “The only reason that Stormbreak would be contested,” Lockwood said, ignoring her question, probably wisely, “is if the armies of Summer and Winter were in some clash around here.” He seemed pained to say it. “And since it is Unseelie territory … that suggests that Summer has come this way.”

  Orianna nodded. “That’s right.”

  We were nearing the gate, and the air was becoming considerably cooler. There was a stronger wind, and the bright light had dulled to a cloudy sort of haze overhead. There were two other faeries standing guard, both of whom had silver-tipped lances in their hands.

  The city suddenly flickered before my eyes, that dark mist appearing, ethereal screams cracking out in the night. I tensed, and Lockwood caught my arm. “What is it?” he asked.

  I shook my head as I looked up into his concerned eyes. There was no way I was going to discuss it in front of Orianna. I might have believed her about being in a tough spot, but this was some grade A weirdness, and I had a suspicion it had something to do with me being human. Something I definitely didn’t want Orianna to know about.

  The world flickered around me again, another scream echoing, and I squinted my eyes shut, hoping it would pass. A slow ache spread out from my temples in a rolling wave of pain.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Orianna cooed. I opened my eyes to find her nearly bending herself in half in a sort of bow before the guards at Stormbreak’s wall.

  “Arms!” one of the faeries barked.

  It took me a second to realize they didn’t mean weapons, and I was a little slow to imitate Orianna and Lockwood as they revealed the underside of their wrists.

  My heart hammered against my chest. I couldn’t see a thing on my wrist except a scrape from the limo attack, and I hoped that Lockwood’s glamour was going to hold up.

  They checked Lockwood, staring at his tattoo for a very long moment before nodding to let him through. Then they turned to Orianna, giving her a careful once over before allowing her to walk under the archway into the city.

  My turn.

  The faerie grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him. He examined it like my dad looking at a vintage baseball card, running a finger over the flesh. I held in a hard gulp as he stared, stared, stared at nothing but my wounded arm, the hundred nettle-stings of the little faeries just sitting there in front of his eyes, beneath at glamour that I hoped he could see, but that I couldn’t.

  His thumb lingered longer over my wrist than it had with the others. He raised his eyes to mine, glaring at me.

  “You may pass,” he said, finally.

  I hurried after the other two.

  “Phew,” Orianna said, grinning. “Lucky they didn’t decide to peel our glamours off. Or try to, at least.”

  “How?” Lockwood asked.

  “Something that the Unseelie have designed,” she said. “Some hostile kind of magic. Painful, really.”

  Lockwood sucked in his breath. “You should have informed us of this before we walked blindly into a trap.”

  Orianna shrugged. “I assumed you knew. Next time I’ll assume you’re ignorant.”

  “Always a safe bet in my case,” I muttered. Orianna chuckled.

  Despite those rainbow smoke trails reaching skyward, the city smelled of regular burning wood. It also had the scent of cold snow, and something else, what I assumed was the smell of magic. It was a heady sort of aroma, like a potent, herbal perfume.

  The city flickered again, and we were surrounded in darkness.

  I gasped and latched onto Lockwood’s arm.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked as everything flickered back to light, to normal.

  “Nothing,” I said, loosening my grip. “Just … it was nothing.”

  Orianna arch
ed a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “We need to turn here.”

  We took a corner down a street with glass windows, shops lining it. The faeries that passed by us varied in size and color. Their wings were all shimmering and opaque, and they spoke in hushed tones, not looking in my eyes as we passed them.

  I shivered as I followed Lockwood and Orianna down the street. Maybe I could buy a sweater or something wherever we were going. It was a sad moment for this New Yorker. Clearly Florida was getting to me.

  Orianna turned into a narrow alleyway, then slipped inside a door with a wooden sign out front adorned with a crown. Lockwood paused outside, extending a hand to me, and waited for me to enter before he followed, protectively, just behind.

  The inside of the shop was humid, probably because of the cauldron in the corner, roiling and frothing with a strange blue, glowing substance. It smelled strangely like vanilla and cinnamon. I forced myself to not inhale deeply, though I really wanted to.

  Every corner of the shop was packed with stuff. Boxes and crates, old books, cabinets with rusted swords and daggers. There was a cage in the corner with a brightly colored bird with two heads, one blue and feathered, the other black and bald with glowing red eyes.

  “Talon!” Orianna cried, rushing through the tiny openings between the shelves.

  Lockwood hung back with me near the door.

  “Well, she wasn’t wrong about finding supplies …” he said, looking around. “I could easily find an amulet for you, and maybe a sword. I’d really like to find some—”

  “Come on, you two, up here,” Orianna said from somewhere in the depths of the shop.

  “Just …” Lockwood was looking into my eyes with great significance, his green ones bright and shining.

  “Stay quiet, I know,” I said.

  The man behind the counter was less of a man, more of an animal. He had the head of an eagle, but the torso, arms, and legs of a man. A big, burly sort of lumberjack. He watched us cautiously as we approached.

  “—but she won’t leave. Not after the raids again last night.”

  “Raids?” Lockwood cut in, examining the glass cabinet in front of Talon. It was loaded with chunks of crystals, mirrors, and a mask that swirled like it was made of mercury.