Glamour of Midnight

by Casey L. Bond

  I shoved around her before she had a chance to argue. She was their mother. It was time she acted like it.

  ON A MIDSUMMER’S DAY, SHE’LL BE CARRIED AWAY.

  5

  KARIS

  With my staff in one hand and Dusty holding the other, we walked to the market. Iric had taken several of our knives with him. I took the largest one left in our house and wore it on my belt. Its sheath slapped my hip with every step, but the weight and weapon made me feel somewhat safer. There was a smaller folding knife tucked into my boot.

  I can do this.

  We wound through the market, passing through the tangle of booths, bodies, and noise. I crouched down and gave Dusty a hug. “There’s iron hidden in a floorboard beneath Iric’s cot, enough to see you through, but do not tell Mage or Root. They’ll spend every ounce, and you’ll have nothing left. Ration it.”

  “I won’t tell them,” he promised.

  “If you need more before we’re back, go to your mother or Duncan.”

  “Duncan’s never around,” he complained, scuffing his boot on the ground.

  “He works long hours, but he’s still your brother—your flesh and blood. He loves you and he’ll help if you need it, Dusty. Now, I want you to go home. I’ll see myself to the wall.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “I can take you there.”

  I was sure, but there was still a stop I had to make. “Give me a hug and then go on home,” I insisted. “Remember what I told you,” I whispered into his ear, squeezing him tight. He returned the hug and walked away, and then I retraced our steps.

  Walking through the market, more than a few people muttered things about my appearance, how I was wearing men’s clothing and looked like I was leaving. “Good riddance, Changeling,” snapped a female.

  I clenched the bag slung across my chest and kept my chin up and my staff in front of me as I made my way through the stalls. The scents of food and spices swirled in the air. When the noise and bustle faded and I sensed I was on the edge of the market, I walked toward where I thought the woman’s house would be, in the direction Iric had been staring that day. She would know where to find the smoke.

  “You’re looking for me?” a woman’s voice called out.

  “Are you the one who returned with the smoke?”

  “You are looking for me. Follow my voice.”

  So I did until my staff found something solid. “Two steps up, three across the planks, and another step into the house.” My skin cooled as soon as I stepped inside and out of the sun. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.

  “No, thanks. I don’t have much time, but I need your help. Last night I received the sight. Someone precious to me went through the smoke, and I need to get him back before something happens to him.”

  “I know what you are.” She rattled around in what I assumed was the kitchen.

  “What I am?” I questioned.

  I didn’t hear her move, so when her voice came from right in front of me, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “You’re one of them,” she noted ominously. “The glamour over your features is fading. Soon, everyone in Ironton will know you’re fae.”

  The woman was obviously addled. I shook my head. “I’m not fae.”

  “You weren’t gifted the sight; you’ve simply come of age. You were glamoured. It’s a fae trick,” she explained. “They use their magic to make people see what they want them to see, like you. You aren’t human, but you look it to all the other humans. And I’d wager you aren’t blind, either. You’re just more powerful than your glamour now. It won’t stick.”

  I gasped as the brief flash of a woman with pale skin and gray hair appeared before me. She sipped from a small, white cup, smiling over the rim.

  Clutching my chest, I tried to calm myself down. Who was that? Was it her?

  “See?” she asked. “It’s fading. So, you plan to cross the smoke and go after the boy?”

  “Yes.” My lips trembled as I answered.

  “And you want to know what lies on the other side.”

  “Please,” I begged. “Please tell me where to find the smoke. Tell me what to expect.”

  “Expect to die. Expect to find him dead. With you being fae, maybe you’ll stand a chance for a short while, but it’s unlikely. I know you take watch with him, and I know you’ve seen the beasts that roam the forests outside the wall.”

  I reached out to her, but my hand connected with nothing but air. “Please tell me how to retrieve the smoke and survive,” I pleaded.

  The woman laughed, and her voice began to fade as if she were far away. She lamented, “I can’t tell you. I didn’t survive it, myself. I’m merely a shade.”

  “But people have seen you!” I argued, confused.

  “I can manifest if I focus hard enough.”

  She suddenly appeared in front of me and I reached out my hand for her again. Nothing was there. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end. “Where did you go?” I whispered, my fingers shaking as they groped for her and came up empty. I gripped my staff and knocked it back and forth in front of me. When the wood hit something, I reached down, finding only the back of a rocking chair. “And how did you know I spoke of a boy?” my voice trembled.

  “What the hell are you doing in my house?” a man yelled from the back of the house.

  I opened my mouth to answer, stunned. Where did she go?

  “Get out! Get out of here!” he roared. “You’re that demon! Get out of here! I don’t know what you did, but—”

  I walked quickly out the door, but he chased me outside.

  “Don’t ever come back, or I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you, demon! Ya hear me? I’ll kill ya!”

  It must have been some sick joke the woman played. I’d wasted enough time on someone who wanted to play games. The people of Ironton hated me, and I was done being the butt of their jokes. A Shade? They were nothing more than a ghostly myth to scare children. But I did see the woman... Shaking my head to clear it, I pretended my spine was made of steel.

  With my mind whirring and heart pounding, I made for the wall, counting my steps and using my staff to make sure I didn’t knock into anyone or anything. Through the gardens, I could hear children laughing and singing. I imagined them holding hands and skipping in a circle, the way the youngest three boys used to do as they sang that awful nursery rhyme...

  When the smoke grows thin,

  The beasts come in.

  On a midsummer’s day,

  She’ll be carried away.

  Creatures new and old,

  Desperate for her blood.

  Take the shadow pass,

  Find the looking glass.

  Devils on her heel,

  Her skin they’ll peel.

  Run and leap back through,

  With the faery brew.

  Their small voices erupted into peals of laughter, but there was nothing funny about the rhyme, or the gooseflesh covering my body.

  Was the woman truly there? Did I actually see her for a moment, or was I losing my mind?

  I walked quickly until my staff found Watchtower thirty-four. “What’s going on down there?” the Border Gray on watch hollered from the small porch.

  “Nothing, sorry.” I hurried away, staying close to the wall until I was between Watchtowers thirty-four and thirty-five, far enough that he shouldn’t be able to see me. I paused in front of the roiling wall, whose smoke somehow seemed darker than it was this morning, and eased toward it. There were no thunderous noises. Instead, an eerie stillness wrapped around me. My hand disappeared into the smoke, finding it more a cool mist than dry plume. I waved my hand, watching as it dissipated before me.

  From the other side came the briefest flash of orange.

  And then a face emerged. Someone stood on the other side, watching.

  “You can see me,” he mused, incredulous. His voice was muffled, but the trace of awe stretched over his features disappeared, replaced by something keener.

  He placed a gl
oved hand on the wall and the booming noise shot up into the sky, tearing at my ears. With them covered and from where I’d dropped to my knees, I glared up at him. The smoke threatened to cover him, but maybe he had answers. He removed his hand from the wall and raised his hands in surrender. “I won’t touch it again. I’m sorry.”

  I stood and eased my hand into the smoke, clearing it away once more. “Have you seen a young man? A human?” I whispered. The Border Gray had to be close. I walked farther away from the watchtower, my hand trailing through the smoke and clearing it away as I went, the faery on the other side striding next to me.

  I stopped near the old oak tree, feeling its roots at my feet. I bumped them with my staff, careful not to trip over them. It was far enough that the guard wouldn’t hear us unless he came looking, right in the middle of two watchtowers.

  His features were angular, the set of his jaw, his high cheekbones... even his eyes were sharp. They were a pale shade of orange, in stark contrast with his long, dark hair. Some strands were pushed behind his pointed ears, his skin pale and flawless.

  The fae male spoke. “I’ve seen several, one from Ironton. He was tall, with brown hair.”

  I let loose the breath I was holding.

  That meant Iric was still alive. There was hope. But he needed help.

  “You’re Karis?” he asked.

  They say never to give a faery your name, but if he already had it, that meant Iric had spoken with him. “How do you know my name?”

  “He told me you might follow him into the woods, and asked me to stop you.”

  “Is he in danger?”

  “Everyone in Faery is in danger,” he answered cryptically. “I’m a hunter. I know these forests and can track. I can take you to him. Safely,” he added.

  “For what price?” I asked. No one did anything for free or out of the goodness of their hearts. Vivica was right about that much.

  He sized me up. “What can you offer?”

  “I have some iron saved away.”

  “Iron is the last thing I would want,” he proclaimed with a shudder. “But a favor, payable at a later date, would suffice.”

  “You use favors as currency?”

  His eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

  Fae were tricky. They couldn’t be trusted. Everyone knew that. And I knew he would likely ask for what I wanted least to give, in the time I least wanted to give it, but what choice did I have? He didn’t want iron. It appeared that we’d gotten that much right about the fae.

  But we got everything else wrong about Faery itself. Beyond him was a dark forest of gnarled, dead trees. It wasn’t lush at all. Lore said it was Utopia; a land full of so many kinds of trees and plants, no human could ever name them in the span of a single lifetime.

  I could see. I could finally see. But Faery, it turned out, wasn’t much to look at.

  And then there was him. The vibrant shade of his eyes and the way they glittered made me wonder if Faery had also shone as brightly at one time.

  I straightened, taking him in. “What do you hunt?”

  His lips curved into a smile that was equal parts pride and threat. “The most horrible creatures imaginable…abominations.”

  He looked like a hunter; dark pants, a matching tunic laced at his chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled forearms. A sword hung from his waist, but I was sure that wasn’t the only weapon he carried.

  The faery smiled at my appraisal of him.

  In truth, he was beautiful. Everyone said some of the fae were almost too beautiful to look at. Others were grotesque.

  I could finally see something, and for the first time, it wasn’t my home I wanted to look at. It was him. And he seemed just as comfortable staring back.

  My skin prickled. Perhaps it was the memory of the bony hand or the beast’s tail. Perhaps it was something else. “There were two creatures outside the wall last night,” I countered softly.

  “If you’re implying that I’m not skilled as a hunter, let me assure you that the Yurton and Oxtrix no longer pose a threat.” He paused. “I would find the young man you seek and return him to you, but as it’s Midsummer, the human cities have sent several humans into Faery. Several are tall and have brown hair. I don’t know him well enough to be able to distinguish him from another.”

  Other human cities? I’d always wondered if there were more. Did they share our same customs? Were they all protected by a dome of smoke? “And you call yourself a hunter. Not all humans look alike, you know,” I chastised him playfully.

  He grinned. “Indeed, they don’t.”

  My face heated as his eyes raked down my body, completing an appraisal of his own. My improper clothing didn’t seem to bother him at all. “How do I know I can trust you?” I asked suspiciously.

  “You don’t.” His orange eyes glittered. “Only time will tell you for sure, but I mean you no harm. However, if we’re to find the young man before something else in the forest does, you’ll need my help.” He stepped back, careful not to touch the wall and hurt my ears again.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. Would he trust me enough to give it to me?

  He bowed his head slightly. “My name is Loftin, Lady.”

  He didn’t look like the other beasts, but he was fae. He had manners, but it could be a trick. He could attack me as soon as I stepped through the wall. I had to be prepared for that. Just in case.

  My hand tightened on my staff, but it was Iric’s knife that I’d go for in a struggle.

  What choice did I have now? Iric was already more than an hour ahead of me, and this guy could just wait outside the wall until I decided to leave. I was wasting time. I just hoped I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my life.

  LOFTIN

  She stared at the leather glove that covered the hand I held out to her, and I watched the raging war in her mind whirl across her delicate features. She looked like Nemain, without the sharpness. No, this girl was softer, more innocent. But even soft things could be deadly. She hadn’t inherited her mother’s personality, or so it seemed, but she must have inherited something from her. Some of her power. Otherwise, Nemain would have no need of the girl.

  I’d watch my back.

  Her dark hair was braided, but the small strands around her face floated in the breeze on the other side of the wall. In Faery, it was still. Her hair wasn’t dark brown or black; it was the color of burnt things and ash, just like the human girl described. Fitting, I thought.

  Finally, she lifted her hand and extended it forward, reaching through the smoke.

  Her fingers curled into her palm for a moment. I could have pulled. I could have yanked her through, but that would have forfeited her trust and put myself at risk. She had some powers. I could smell the magic emanating from her skin, as strong as her mother’s, if not stronger.

  Those delicate fingers stretched out to me and when her hand found mine, her breath hitched. Through the smoke, she clasped my hand harder as if she was accepting her fate. If she did, it would make my job much easier.

  At the present moment, the only thing I could think about was her skin. I expected a princess to have soft skin, like velvet. Like something comfortable and luxurious. But hers was rough and calloused in places.

  She set her jaw and stared into my eyes as if searching for something. I needed her to trust me, needed to become friends with her so she would follow me anywhere without question. And the sooner she stepped through the smoke, the sooner our journey to the castle of the Court of Ash could begin. She stepped forward, through the smoke, leaving the safety of her world for the danger of mine.

  The wall behind her suddenly grew thick and dark. It was now impenetrable, and I marveled at the power she had already unleashed.

  In a flash, the tip of her knife was poised against my throat. “What are you doing?” I managed to say.

  “Making sure you aren’t going to attack me.”

  I raised my hands. “With all due respect, I’m not the one with a blade in
hand.”

  She didn’t bother lowering the weapon, but instead, flicked her eyes to the wall. “I can’t see inside. Can you?”

  I was afraid to even swallow, the tip of her blade pinching my Adam’s apple. “No. The smoke has thickened. Perhaps you were the cause of it thinning,” I teased.

  That was the wrong thing to say to her. I could see the hurt flash in her eyes. I closed my eyes, ready for the death blow, but it never came. I opened them again and she took a step back.

  “I’m sorry for that. I just… they tell us awful stories about the fae, and I was scared.”

  “You should be scared. Not of me, mind you, but in Faery there are many dangers.”

  She steeled her shoulders. “I accept your terms. You will be my guide through Faery, protecting me, as well as Iric when we find him. For that, I’ll owe you one favor of your choosing.”

  “Alright.” I knew the humans shook hands to bind their words, so I extended mine to her with my eyebrows raised. She accepted my hand and gave it a quick shake, jerking away quickly.

  “What happened here?” she asked, her mouth gaping as she glanced away from me and into the forest around her. “What is this place? It looks… dead.”

  It was my home, and hers. Could she feel the latent magic in the air, only a fraction as strong as it had once been? Much like the smoke surrounding her town, the magic that once flowed freely through Faery had dissipated.

  “This is the Southern Forest, formerly the home of the Court of Summer.”

  “Formerly?” she asked, regarding me over her shoulder.

  “The four founding Seelie Courts—Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter—have fallen to the Unseelie fae and their queen. The Seelie Courts no longer exist. The faeries who ruled these forests are gone. Their residual magic is disappearing, and these lands are dying because of it.”

  A flash of profound sadness fell over her features.

  “At one time, it was beautiful,” I added. “Is Ironton different?”

  “Yes, it is,” she breathed, sizing up the devastation around her. “This is terrible.”