“He’s a bit old fashioned,” I said.
“Yeah, but it’s not a faerie name,” Orianna said. “Like … at all.”
“It’s short for something else,” Lockwood said. “He doesn’t like talking about his full name either.”
“Makes sense,” Orianna said. “You’re too good for this one anyways, Cassie.”
“Hey!” I said, pointing a finger at her. “Lockwood is amazing. But he’s more like a brother to me than anything else. Tells me when I’m being an idiot and protects me at the same time. I’m the one who wouldn’t deserve him.”
Lockwood laughed. “Brother, eh? Sometimes I feel more like your father.”
Sometimes I wished he actually was my father.
But only sometimes.
Orianna shrugged again. “Strange. I just don’t understand you Summer fae.”
We walked in silence for a little while, and I couldn’t help think about what she had said. She didn’t understand Seelie? Of course she wouldn’t. She was Unseelie. But how could she understand Winter fae any better? Judging by her story, they’d shown no compassion to her, and she was in exile just like Lockwood was. The two of them were outcasts, and carried all the attendant baggage that brought. Lockwood bore his well enough, I thought, looking at his gaze, anchored straight ahead. But Orianna … to think your own people betrayed you …
No wonder she felt so unsafe all the time.
“Orianna …” I said, looking over at her.
She was floating just over the ground with her hands behind her head, her face turned toward the sun. “Hmm?”
“Were you … exiled because of what happened in that village?”
She stopped floating, as if some unknown force had stopped her.
I stopped too, and Lockwood soon after. He looked back at me curiously.
“Why do you ask?” she asked.
I gave a shrug of my own. “I was just thinking about what you told me yesterday …”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, I would have told any story to stop that faerie from sobbing all over herself anymore.” But there was a pout to her lips that made me question her words.
“Because you felt pity for her,” I said. “And so did I. It was a sad story, but … so was yours.”
Orianna huffed and resumed her hovering down the road.
“Come on, we have to get to the Seelie court,” she said.
Lockwood gave me a questioning look, but I chased after her.
“Wait, Orianna, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know you didn’t want to talk about it.”
She had folded her arms across her chest, and was staring straight ahead of her down the pristine, white road. “Yeah, well … .” Orianna said, her jaw clenched. “You started the conversation with her, and I felt like I had to say … something. I wish it was that easy for me to feel better about things like that, because she certainly got over it easily.”
Lockwood had fallen into step beside me, observing the situation.
“I overheard a part of the conversation yesterday,” he said. “You were at the massacre of Howl, weren’t you?”
Orianna’s mouth fell open, but she quickly snapped it shut. “So what if I was?”
“I … am sorry,” Lockwood replied. “That was a terrible thing the Unseelie did. The Summer Court was infuriated by the way the Unseelie treated their own people.”
Orianna stared at him, her lips pressed tightly together as if she was fighting not to say something she’d regret. Finally, she huffed out a breath of air and turned away.
“Yeah, well, welcome to the real world,” she said darkly. “There have been very few times where the Unseelie have welcomed me in. And believe it or not, one of the only times I can think of was when I met with Queen Pruina herself.”
Lockwood blanched. “You’ve met the Winter Queen?”
She nodded. “I have. And she wasn’t nearly as bad as the tales would suggest.”
“From what I have heard, you are lucky that you lived to talk about it,” Lockwood said.
Orianna waved a hand dismissively. “Exaggerations. She was very kind to me.”
“Really?” Lockwood asked.
“Absolutely,” Orianna said. “She was the only reason why I found any sort of home after my parents were killed.”
Dead parents? Geez. This poor girl …
“I’m so sorry about your parents,” I said.
Orianna shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”
“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”
“They were traitors, in some shape or form,” she said, surprisingly cool, as though she were simply talking about the weather forecast. “I don’t really know the whole story. I was young, and Winter fae aren’t known for being very forthcoming.” She pressed a finger to her cheek. “Something about passing information to Seelie scouts, or something like that. Anyway, they were executed in the middle of the Autumn Court for all to see.”
My brain spun. I thought the Winter Court was the Unseelie court? Where did this talk of an Autumn Court come from?
“Anyway, I was probably four or five, came home one afternoon to find soldiers waiting. They took me away to the court.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Apparently I was to be tried as well. Queen Pruina was to give me my sentence, you see. I had no idea at the time, but by the ancient laws, being the child of traitors is grounds for execution. Fruit of a poisonous tree or somesuch, and the masters of Autumn made clear that they were quite fine with that outcome. Said they feared I would turn out just like my parents, and that was too great a risk.”
She shook her head, her long golden hair swirling about her as if she were in water.
“The court was … magnificent. Those golden hues and reds, the four great thrones. I was scared, so it didn’t make much of an impact on me aside from, wow, these people killed my parents. But when I saw Queen Pruina, I …”
Lockwood’s face was hard, and he was watching his feet as we walked. I could see from the strain near his eyes that he was listening. Intently.
“I just broke down. I was a child, what did I know, other than Mother and Father weren’t coming home again? I was afraid … and there she was, all silver and blue, her hair as dark as night itself, eyes like frostbite. I was just standing there in that grand throne room on the dais made of cut crystal, trembling, tears dripping down my face. I had no hope left. I thought that something horrible was going to happen to me. But I don’t know, a child doesn’t understand death, right? I just expected pain.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“She embraced me,” Orianna said in a tone that said she hardly believed it even now. “She got down off her great throne, left her icicle scepter on the floor, and knelt before me, pulling me into her arms.”
Lockwood just stared at her. I did, too.
“She told me that she was sorry that my parents were gone now, but that she would do all she could to protect me. She said that my parents had made some terrible choices, and that she hoped that I would be able to take what had happened and grow stronger from it. Then she placed her hand on my head and told me that I was to be one of her wards. She presented me with a small, golden pin in the shape of a snowflake …”
“That is a great honor to be recognized by the queen in such a way.” Lockwood was staring at her, his pace slowed.
“I found out later that she called all of the orphans in the Winter territory her wards, but I don’t know how many of them actually met her. I haven’t spoken to her since, though I have heard … stories of her actions.” She shivered. “Like Winter itself … she can be ruthless.”
“Well, I suppose even the Winter Queen wouldn’t be so heartless as to harm an innocent child,” Lockwood murmured.
Orianna sighed, shaking herself as if to rid herself of the gloom that had settled over her. “Well, regardless, that’s my take on her. I try not to dwell on what she’s done since. I get that she’s hardened and lives up to her title of bein
g the Queen of Cold, but still … there’s more to her than that.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip.
There was more to Orianna than her flippant attitude and moods that could change on a dime. She actually had a heart, and there seemed to be things in her past that had made her so uncaring on the outside.
“You’ve been through a lot,” I said.
Orianna gave me a sideways glance, and a mischievous grin spread over her face. “I have. But so have you, by the sounds of it.”
Throwing the spotlight on me to avoid talking about herself. A clever way to divert the conversation away from herself when things were hitting a little too close to home.
This, I understood.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” I said, letting her throw the attention back on me and off her past. If I had been through what she had, I would have taken every opportunity to try and forget it.
Even though my parents drove me insane, and there was very little about my life that I could be honest with them about, I was suddenly immensely grateful that I had parents to go home to. And they had been there all my life. They had loved me, raised me, cared for me.
Orianna had nothing but the brief embrace of a queen. Two minutes of glory and attention since she was four years old. Whatever had happened to her after that … well, it seemed a sure bet she hadn’t grown up in a loving home with people who cared deeply about her.
I sighed. “You want to hear a story?” Maybe this would take her mind off her troubles.
Orianna’s eyes seemed to flutter before settling on me. “Yes.”
“All right,” I said. “There was this one time when Lockwood and I faced off against a vicious enemy who called himself ‘The Butcher’ …”
Orianna’s eyes lit with curiosity, and I could see Lockwood watching me carefully to ensure that I was keeping our secrets secret, but Orianna was more than happy to listen. Maybe faeries were always vague with one another, because telling the unvarnished truth was just too difficult.
I knew a little something about that.
Take it from a reforming liar—telling the truth can be the hardest thing in the world.
Chapter 19
“We are nearly there,” Lockwood said, coming to a stop just outside of a large archway made from intertwining branches and flowers. “This is one of the cities on the outskirts of the Seelie court’s territory. We will rest here for a short time and be at the court by late tomorrow.”
“Why not just keep going?” I asked. “There’s plenty of daylight left.”
“Nope,” Orianna said, shaking her head. “I’m with Grumpy, here. It’s wiser to stop and rest for the night. I really would not like to walk along in the darkness. Even these borders are not safe.”
I sighed. “The longer we delay …” I said to Lockwood, glaring at him to convey my anxiety about getting home.
“I know,” he said. “It will all work out.”
I sighed. “Fine. I could eat something anyways. That bread from this morning feels like it was forever ago.”
“That’s because it practically was,” Orianna said. She was staring up at the archway, her hands curled into fists.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I asked, realizing we weren’t actually moving toward the village.
“I’m just …” Lockwood was standing in the middle of the road, unmoving.
It took me a second of watching him scanning ahead to realize he was worried he was going to run into someone he knew. It was like the prospect of running into an ex. It’s horrible and awkward and makes you want to turn around and take off in the other direction.
Except his ex was actually the law, and I wasn’t sure, but I was pretty sure that we were in danger if they caught him.
But he was the one who had dragged me here, and I was going to help him.
After seeing all of these faeries, Seelie and Unseelie, who had been affected by this war, I understood why this was so important for Lockwood to right it all. Even though I still had no idea how he was connected, or what he had done to get himself exiled.
“Should you glamour yourself?” I asked him.
“No. I should return home as myself.” He shook his head. “Come, let us go and try and find some accommodations.”
He started off down the narrower path paved with the same white stones as the main road. Orianna and I followed, Orianna even more hesitant about it than I was.
The whole situation was ridiculous. Lockwood was going to get in trouble if he was discovered by the wrong people. Orianna was a Winter fae in Summer territory. And I was a human posing as a faerie.
What a merry group we made.
The town itself was beautiful. There were little houses along the path, all tucked away among the gently rolling hills and trees. Most of them were up in the branches above our heads, like little bird houses.
There were shrubs and flowers everywhere, and everything looked inviting. A floral scent hung in the air, and an unfamiliar bird sang high in the branches of the trees among the homes. The branches overhead intertwined, casting cool shadows onto the paths below, like many bridges and pathways in the sky.
Lockwood was looking all around. In every direction, into every face, as if anticipating discovery at every second.
There had to be some better way to do this. Some way where he could conceal himself and still be able to get to the court.
“Lockwood …” I said, coming up to his shoulder. “Can’t we—”
“I’m all right,” he said. “Truly, I am. I am going to be discovered here one way or another. I would just rather arrive at the court on my terms, not as a prisoner.”
A prisoner? He was joking, right?
Oh, right. Faerie. Can’t lie.
Great.
We crested a low hill and found ourselves in the town center. It was quaint, with a bubbling fountain in the center, the figurehead a pair of faeries standing face to face with their hands interlocked, their backs arched, and their lips nearly touching. Their wings were outstretched behind themselves, carved in such a way that the play between the water and the sunlight made them appear opaque. Maybe they actually were.
The fountain’s quiet rushing was like a peaceful reminder of the hospital’s springs. The sun shone down, gentle kisses on my skin beneath the glamour that protected me from curious eyes.
A few larger buildings surrounded the fountain and the park that encircled it. Faeries of all ages were gathered there, either lying in the grass watching little ones play, or flying in and out of the shops in the trees or on the forest floor. A white-washed building with a thatched roof directly behind the fountain must have been the inn, and smoke poured from its large chimney.
But the front door wasn’t on the ground. It was way up on the fourth floor.
The sweet floral smell was denser here, as vines intertwined between the buildings like Christmas lights, adorning every window and roof. There was a gentle breeze that carried the pleasant murmur of the voices of the faeries as they went about their daily lives.
It was as if the war being waged just outside in the forest beyond didn’t exist.
“Come,” Lockwood said, and we made our way along the outside of the road, away from the park and the fountain, heading in the direction of the inn.
Orianna hovered close to me, shooting me nervous smiles whenever I caught her eye.
When we were within a block or so of the inn, Lockwood scooped me up into his arms, and my stomach lurched as he took off into the air, the door above us drawing ever closer as we flew.
He landed lightly on the small porch out front and set me down gently.
My knees trembled, the adrenaline kicking in. I willed the whole world around me not to spin. Grabbing onto Lockwood’s arm helped.
“What, did you forget what it was like to fly?” Orianna sneered.
“Yes. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to fly.” I kept my face utterly straight, and noticed a waver in hers, a little horror slipping
in at the thought of being so encumbered, then I pushed through into the inn after Lockwood.
It was warm inside, with a friendly fire crackling in the large stone hearth, though definitely odd because the flames were green and purple. Every surface inside was wood or stone, and I felt like I was in a child’s picture book. My skin tingled as I realized how surreal my life had been over the last few days.
“Good afternoon,” the woman behind the counter said. She was a very striking faerie, with long, flowing curls of fluorescent magenta, with tiny braids tied all around her head, each secured with a tiny blue stone. “You three be needing rooms?”
“Yes,” Lockwood said, dipping into his pockets for his change purse. “Two, please.”
“I’m sorry, but we only have one room left, with one bed.”
Lockwood sighed. “All right, that’s fine. We will take it.”
The faerie looked at him closely. “Do I know you?”
Oh, crap. My stomach did a nasty flip.
“I’m sure you don’t,” Lockwood said. “I haven’t lived around here for quite some time—”
“I do remember you,” the faerie said, her eyes narrowing. “You were that paladin who passed through here with your men. You tore up my tavern!”
I chanced a glance at Lockwood.
His face had gone pale, and his jaw was tight. “I’m afraid that there has been a misunderstanding—”
The faerie behind the counter was growing flushed. “No, it was you. And all you did was drag them out of here. You didn’t even pay for your drinks!”
“I sent payment along through the guilds,” Lockwood said. “Here, let me pay for it again now. I surely have enough here to cover—”
The faerie stepped away as if the payment he offered was poisonous. With a furious look back, she dashed to the window overlooking the park and rang a tiny silver bell hanging just outside.
Horror came over Lockwood’s expression.
Welp. This was not good.
“Guards!” the woman called, ringing the bell feverishly. “Guards! A man is here to steal from me!”
“I am doing no such thing!” Lockwood was bright red. He whirled around, looking at Orianna and me. “Come. We can’t be caught here.” He grabbed onto my wrist and we dashed out of the door.
Lies in the Dark Page 14