Shadow Play_A Dark Fantasy Novel

by Jill Ramsower

  “Can you tell me what's going on? Why am I being kept here for dinner?”

  “It's customary for guests of the palace to stay for dinner, if not stay the night, and dinner is always formal. It would be an affront to her majesty if you were not adequately attired.”

  It appeared I had no say in the matter. I did my best to squelch my anxiety and treat the experience as just another one of my travel adventures.

  Cyrene strode to a large basin across the room. “I’ll prepare a bath for you so that you can wash, and while you soak, I’ll fetch a gown for the evening.” She touched the basin and steaming water magically appeared inside.

  “You can control water?” I asked, watching as she poured bath salts in the tub and gathered towels.

  “Yes, I'm a forest nymph, a type of elemental. No great magic but I can do enough with water and earth to be of help here in the palace.” She stepped back and examined me from head to toe. “Do you need help getting out of your clothes?”

  A surprised bubble of laughter escaped me—the entire scenario was so foreign, so unexpected. “No, thank you. I'll get in the bath by myself.”

  She took my hint and left the room to gather my gown. A gown? I had never worn a gown in my life. Even my prom dress had been knee length and not particularly fancy. Shaking my head, I removed my slacks, blouse, and underwear and sunk into the perfectly warm bath basin. As much as I needed to get home, it was hard not to enjoy the luxuries surrounding me. In no time Cyrene was back and the water had cooled substantially.

  “Let me wash your hair before you get too cold and we can get you out.” In an instant she was on her knees pouring water on my hair.

  I wasn't particularly modest but I also wasn't accustomed to strange women bathing me. I swallowed my protest and leaned my head back. The soaps she used had a refreshing scent and by the time she was done, my hair was silky smooth and clean. I rose from the soapy water and she wrapped a towel around me.

  “Look what I found, I think it's going to be just beautiful on you.”

  She held up a royal purple gown made of ethereal fabric that caught the air as she held it up for my inspection. The dress was not particularly intricate, which suited me well, and the combined effect of the color, fabric, and design was stunning. It was absolutely perfect.

  “Cyrene, I love it, thank you.”

  She beamed in response and then laid the dress on the bed before heading to the vanity. “Come put on this robe and have a seat so I can do that beautiful hair of yours.”

  “But, it’ll take so long to dry.”

  Creases formed at the corners of her large eyes as she grinned at me in the mirror. “Trust me.”

  As soon as I sat, she held her hands over my head and swept them slowly down the back of my head and to the ends of my hair. When she was done, my hair was completely dry.

  “Do you have any idea how amazing you are? I would do my hair all the time if I didn't have to dry it!”

  She giggled at my outburst and I gazed in the mirror again. We chatted for the next hour while she combed, brushed, curled and braided my hair. The final product was magazine-worthy. The top portion of my hair was pulled back with curls and a couple of intricate braids adorning my head, while the back portion fell in perfectly coifed soft waves. I had never felt more beautiful and once I completed the look with the purple gown, I stood dumbstruck in front of the mirror. I never thought that I had much of a figure, but the fabric draping my body hugged me in all the right places, displaying my figure to its fullest potential.

  I turned to Cyrene and took her hands. “Thank you so much.”

  “It's my pleasure, Rebecca. But please be careful.” Her face fell and her eyes pleaded with me. “The Faery Court is a dangerous place and the Queen can be a jealous ruler.” She whispered the last part as she took her hands back and nervously clenched her skirt.

  “Thank you for the warning. I have no intention of angering anyone tonight. I'm just trying to get myself back home.” I gave her a tight smile.

  “The bell tower tolls when it is time for the evening meal. Once you hear it, you will go down the hallway to the right and it will take you to the main stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs you should see the gathering of people entering the dining hall.”

  “You aren't staying with me until then?”

  “No, I'm sorry but I need to go help in the kitchens.”

  Reaching out, I gave the Fae woman a warm hug. After her initial surprise, she returned the favor. Pulling back, I realized that her over-sized eyes brought none of the horror that I had felt when encountering the other Fae creatures. She was kind and sincere, but most importantly, she was a wonderful reminder not to judge the Fae based on the few I had met.

  “I’m so glad I met you, Cyrene, and thank you for all your help.”

  “Be well, Rebecca. I hope that I will see you again someday.”

  With a soft smile she slipped from the room, closing the door behind her.

  I walked to the small bookcase in the bedroom and scanned the titles. Pulling a relatively thin book from the shelf and opening it, I was stunned to find beautifully scripted handwritten pages within. I took the book to a chair by the windows and sat in the dim light. My head still ached, but I was too buzzed with energy to rest. Instead I spent the next couple hours reading a story about four children who were transformed into swans and then wandered the earth singing for 900 years until they were finally changed back to humans. By then they were elderly so they died.

  The End.

  What a waste of two hours of my life. If the Fae regarded that as a good story, I had even less in common with them than I thought. Them?—or should I say ‘us’? According to Lochlan and Guinevere, I was part Fae now. My trip to Faery had distracted me and while I appreciated the opportunity to avoid the topic, I couldn't afford to ignore something as huge as becoming a Faery. A cacophony of emotions confused and frightened me but before I could address them, a gong resonated through the room.

  It was time for me to walk into the lion’s den and hope for the best.

  19

  I found my way to the large winding staircase and between the gown and the grand stairwell, I felt like Scarlet O'Hara descending the grand staircase at Tara.

  Dozens of people stood in formal attire at the bottom of the stairs. Some sipped from crystal glasses while they mingled and slowly moved toward the double doors off the main room. Had I not known they were Fae, I would never have suspected the guests were anything but human. Aristocratic humans at a fancy retro costume party, but humans nonetheless.

  Several sets of eyes were drawn my way as I approached the last few steps and I wondered if they knew anything about me or if I was to be the subject of tonight’s conversation. I supposed that even if they did already know, I was still enough of an oddity to warrant attention. Letting out a small sigh, I awkwardly joined the tail end of the crowd winding its way through a large set of double doors.

  The dining room boasted elegantly crafted crystal chandeliers hanging from soaring paneled ceilings with matching crystal sconces lining the walls. Paintings of Fae portraits, landscapes, still-lifes and any number of other subjects hung scattered on the walls. The room contained a long table that seated what had to be nearly one hundred people. Pristine silverware was set around sparkling white dinner plates, and down the center of the table, among silver serving dishes, were grand candelabras and bouquets of fragrant flowers. Without realizing, I had stopped in the middle of the grand entrance to take in its grandeur. I was not brought back to the present until a man spoke.

  “Let me escort you to your seat.” The handsome man extended his elbow and I was grateful for his assistance. I placed my hand on his forearm and he led me to the far end of the table.

  He was about six feet tall with light brown hair swept to the side and dark copper colored eyes. If he were human, I would have said he was close to thirty, but all the Fae looked thirty, so there was no telling his actual age.

 
; At the head of the table, an opulent gold armchair presided over the table and I could only assume it belonged to the queen. The man walked me to the chair to the left of the queen's. I gave him a quiet thanks for his help before he took a seat across the table and down several places. He was attractive and I realized he was oddly familiar.

  All at once, the crowd stood and grew hushed as the queen walked into the room, her head held high and shoulders back in a statement of supreme authority. Once she rounded the table to her chair, she gracefully bowed her head and everyone took their seats and resumed conversations as if they had never been interrupted. I offered a slight bow of my head to the queen as she sat in her demi-throne. It was clear she wanted no mistakes about who was in charge.

  As soon as she was seated, hordes of servers appeared, placing small plates of food with a savory aroma on top of the charger plates in front of each guest. I scanned the table watching as those around me took their utensils and began to eat with relish.

  Ashley had told me that under no circumstances was I to eat Fae food. Growling in protest, my stomach argued that I hadn’t touched the tray of food Cyrene had brought and it had been ages since I’d last eaten.

  “Go ahead, girl, there is nothing to fear in eating the food at my table,” the queen said as she raised her glass of wine to her thin pink lips.

  My chin dropped in acknowledgement, but my eyes again wandered until they met with the eyes of the man who had walked me to my seat. He held his fork out meaningfully and placed a bite of food in his mouth, keeping his eyes fixed on mine the entire time.

  I took a deep breath, deciding that I would take the risk, and picked up my fork to place a bite in my mouth. Rich flavors that I had never experienced burst across my tongue and my lids closed over my eyes in pure delight. When they reopened, the man still watched but this time one corner of his mouth quirked in a smile.

  The food was indescribable. Course after course I gorged myself until I could not eat another bite. Throughout the meal the man glanced in my direction periodically, but never spoke to anyone near him. The queen and those around me chatted about inconsequential matters, but I had no interest to contribute to the conversation unless required out of politeness. However, near the end of the meal my curiosity got the better of me and I turned to the queen.

  “Who is the man in the grey jacket just down there?” I motioned with my fork toward the man who was finishing his food.

  “We do not discuss any matters of politics at dinner,” she said with a dismissive tone before continuing. “You and I shall walk the gardens after the meal is done and we will talk then.”

  I hadn’t considered my question to be particularly probing, but I was not going to argue with the queen, so I sat back in my seat and waited. Not long after, the queen rose, and on her mark, the rest of the guests rose as well to stand at their places. She motioned for me to join her and as everyone stood watching, we strolled into the adjoining room.

  Continuing on, she led me out to the gardens lit with Faery lanterns glowing ethereal light. They hung throughout the area, casting a soft blanket of light on the landscape. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of what I initially thought were humming birds flitting about but quickly realized were actually tiny Faeries tending to the plants. They moved too quickly to get a good look at them, but I could tell they had gossamer wings about as large as themselves.

  “Are they pixies?” I found myself.

  “Yes, they are useful in the gardens, but can also be quite the pain. They do not let their small stature hinder their demands and expectations.” There was a hint of humor in her voice. I wouldn't say it put me at ease, but it did give me pause to remember the Faery queen was also just a woman—a powerful woman—but more than just her station.

  “I have to say, I can hardly wrap my mind around the fact that I'm walking in a garden with Queen Guinevere. That you're real, you and Arthur and Merlin and the rest. I never could have imagined that there was truth in the old stories.”

  “Yes, but none of the stories are all that accurate any more. The brevity of human existence is vastly limiting. Knowledge is lost, priorities skewed, the urgency of time warps rational thinking—such strange creatures, makes them unpredictable.”

  “We do the best we can.” I said wryly.

  “There is no 'we' anymore, Rebecca. You had better start getting used to that.”

  “I haven't had time to get used to it yet, it's just been a handful of hours since I found out.”

  “It always come back to time, stop thinking like a human. You are Fae, there is no getting used to it. You simply are. Accept it and move on.”

  I tried not to be annoyed with her words, she did have a point, but the newness of the subject made it a sensitive matter. “What about this war you mentioned—what is my role supposed to be?”

  “If there is a war brewing, it would only be because Merlin stirred one up. He has a way of toying with people and you can only poke a hornet's nest so many times before a swarm develops.” She spoke of him almost like one would speak of an annoying but endearing brother before turning her assessing eyes on me. “How long have you been Fae?” She arched her brow in expectation of my answer.

  Her sudden change of subject caught me off guard and I stuttered for a moment. “I'm not sure, I've never shown any signs of powers until I moved to Ireland a couple weeks ago. That's all I know.”

  “What powers have you exhibited so far?”

  Dammit, I was a terrible liar and her direct question made my heart leap in my throat. “Nothing major—unlocking a door, seeing through glamour, and healing quickly.” Relieved my words came out steadily, I calmed my breathing and tried to project an image of innocence. If my powers were unique like Lochlan had suggested, there was no way I was telling her about them.

  She stopped beneath the swaying branches of a flowering tree and turned in my direction. Her cool green eyes bore into me before she spoke. “I suppose your powers are irrelevant. What you need to know is that once your transformation is complete, you will be under my rule. I have mandated that the Seelie stay off of Earth, and outside of the Wild Hunt, there are no exceptions. My man will be watching and once you fully transition, you must come to Faery.” She looked down her nose at me, asserting her dominance in anticipation of my challenge, but I was too dumbstruck to mount a defense.

  I hadn't even had a chance to process Lochlan's claims that I was becoming Fae, let alone make the connection that I would then have to live in Faery. My already aching head began to pound as helplessness and despair settled in my chest.

  “Beck,” said the queen before large hands reached around to my forehead, just as they had done in my apartment, and my world went black again.

  I came awake faster this time, my eyes flying open as I sat up abruptly in my bed back home in my apartment. The movement was too fast and my stomach lurched. I hurried to the bathroom and stood vigil over the toilet, expecting to return my dinner at any moment.

  Was it the magic that Beck used to make me unconscious that made my head pound and my stomach revolt?—or perhaps the Faery food that I had eaten while I was there?

  Head still aching, my stomach settled enough that I stepped over to the sink and splashed my face with water. My reflection caught me off guard and I froze to take in the stunning woman in the mirror. The beautiful hairstyle Cyrene had created was a bit worse for wear, but the effect was still there—I looked like royalty. I still wore the purple gown leaving no room for argument that it had all been a dream.

  I gathered the skirts and walked to the bedroom mirror for the full effect. Once I turned on the light and located my phone where I had left it charging, I snapped a couple selfies to show Ashley, knowing she would never believe what had happened. The thought had hardly formed before I remembered that I couldn't tell Ashley about any of it. My heart ached to not share these life-altering events with my best friend, and fears that our friendship could not survive such secrecy bubbled to the surface. Of co
urse, if I was forced to live in Faery, Ashley was lost to me anyway.

  Turning the light off, I carefully removed the dress and hung it in my armoire before pulling on my pajamas. I checked my phone and was stunned to discover it was 11 p.m. on the same day I was abducted, merely a few hours later. It felt like a full day had passed, but in reality, it had been a fraction of that. I sank down on the bed and tried to comprehend that I had been to another world. I wondered if I spent a year in Faery, and then came back to Earth, would I have aged a year while in Faery, even though only a number of months would have passed on Earth?

  I gave myself a mental slap on the forehead. No, Rebecca, you won't be aging. Period.

  A surge of panic raced through my body and I curled up under the covers thinking about the implications of all I'd learned. I tried to sort through how I felt about not growing old. Everyone faces the possibility of watching their parents and loved ones die in their lifetime, so that aspect alone didn't make the prospect of immortality feel any more or less daunting.

  Would I be able to tell my parents that I was Fae or was I supposed to just disappear and make them think I was dead? I didn't care what the queen said, there was no way in hell that was happening. I wasn't sure when I would tell them, but I refused to let my parents grieve me unnecessarily. Not only would I tell them about the change, I would not agree to be restricted to living in Faery. In addition to preventing this war, I was going to have to figure out how to circumvent the queen's mandate.

  My second biggest concern with becoming Fae was the impact on my friendship with Ashley. How could I keep such a life-altering event from her? Would she jump on a plane and come here if she found out?

  Knowing now that a war might be brewing was even more incentive to keep her away from Ireland, but I couldn’t keep this a secret from her forever. Just like my parents, she would figure out eventually that I wasn't aging. Keeping such an enormous secret would be a much more serious offense in her book than learning that I was Fae.