by Ruth Vincent
There was fear in her dark rimmed eyes. “I’ve created a monster. He must be stopped.”
I nodded.
When she spoke again, some of her fear and anger seemed to soften. “I’m making it sound like he’s entirely evil, and that is perhaps unfair of me. I know you find the captive program abhorrent, Mab, but the truth is, if Korvus hadn’t proposed that idea, and helped me carry it out, every fairy in the Vale could have died from Elixir sickness years ago, and over time the Vale would disintegrate. Korvus has taken many lives—too many—but he’s also saved many lives. We can’t forget that.”
“There’s got to be someone else who isn’t Korvus, but who isn’t me either.”
“But I want you to be my successor.” She took my hands and held them in her ice cold fingers. “I may not have been there for you before. But I’m here now. Let me be here. Let me train you to be Queen. Grant me that one final wish.”
Her last words stung, but I shook my head. “I can’t.”
“But you’re a fairy; you’re the heir to the fairy throne.”
“No,” I whispered. “You made me human.”
I looked up at my mother’s face, and instantly turned away. I couldn’t bear the heartbreak in her eyes. “I need to think about all of this, okay?”
Her face brightened. “Yes, of course, think about it.”
She had taken “maybe” to mean “yes.”
I sighed. “How does it even work, for me to become a fairy again? I tried that ‘return’ spell you taught me, dozens and dozens of times, as a child, trying to regain my old form. It never worked. You obviously taught me a fake spell. So how could I really become a fairy again?”
I wasn’t ready to do it, but I still was curious.
My mother blushed, the faintest pink coming over her porcelain white cheeks. “I didn’t teach you a fake spell, dearest. I just neglected to mention one essential part.”
“And that is?”
“The return spell only works in the Vale, just like the changeling spell only works in the human world.”
“So you made it so I’d have to find my way home in order to transform back into a fairy?”
Solemnly, the Queen nodded. “If you did the spell again here, it would work. You’d regain your old form.”
A mixture of excitement and dread flooded through me at her words. I could become a fairy again, right here, right now, if I wanted to.
But did I want to?
For so many years, it was all I’d ever wanted.
And now with it suddenly possible, I felt paralyzed.
“I need some time,” I said, and I pulled away from her hands.
I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to give up the human life I’d come to love. And I couldn’t live in the human world as a fairy. But that reminded me . . .
This whole conversation, this devastating news, had distracted me from the original reason I’d come here. But I wasn’t going to leave without at least getting some answers.
“Your Maj . . . Mom. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”
“Anything.”
“There’s a fairy who’s been in the human world—but not a changeling.” I told her briefly about Quinn, and Eva’s ritual group. The Queen frowned.
“I don’t know who it is, but I think he’s stealing X-factor—I mean, the human component of Elixir—directly from living people.”
The Queen’s frowned deepened. “I didn’t think that was possible,” she said. “But perhaps . . .”
“Who could it be? I figured I’d ask you. I mean, you keep tabs on everyone.”
The Queen’s mouth softened. “That’s my job,” she said, though I could hear a hint of pride in her voice. “And soon it will be yours.”
I sighed. I had no desire to be master of the Queen’s network of spies. “But who is it?”
“I don’t know.”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“I don’t know everything, darling, despite the fact that so much of the populace is convinced that I do.”
“You must have some idea, though.”
She shook her head. “There are very few who know about our Elixir manufacturing program. There are very few who really understand what Elixir even consists of, that it has different parts, and that some of them are shared with humans. I told you because you’re my daughter, but this is secret knowledge. The only one who knows everything that I know is Korvus, really.”
Korvus. Cory. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? But of course I hadn’t recognized him; all the men were so beautiful, and Korvus was one of the most hideous creatures I’d ever seen. But he could make himself look like anyone he wanted. He’d once made himself into a perfect copy of Eva’s ex-boyfriend, Ramsey. Of course he’d picked beautiful disguises. I felt ill. I had to find him. But would he talk to me if I confronted him directly? Probably not. I’d have to do it surreptitiously.
“Where does Korvus live?” I asked my mother, trying to sound nonchalant. “Does he live here in the palace with you?”
She shook her head. “He stays with me during the day, but at night he goes back to his own set of apartments, where we set up the laboratory. It’s deep within the earth. I think he feels more comfortable there. I think all the light in the Quartz Spires bothers him. He is a goblin after all. They like the dark.”
“Could you show me where his apartments are? I’d like to talk to him,” I said, though I had no intention of going to Korvus’ rooms during the night when he was there. That would be totally counterproductive. Obadiah and I would have to go during the day, when he’d be busy at court with the Queen. We’d have to sneak in and see what evidence of Korvus’ rogue transformations we could find. Only then would we know for sure it was him behind the mysterious men that had such a grievous effect on Quinn.
“If you want to talk to him, you don’t have to go visit him—you can talk to him now. He’s right outside.” She gestured towards the door through which Korvus had departed.
“No, that’s alright,” I said quickly. “I’ll talk to him later. I need some time to think about everything. I want to be alone.”
I wanted to leave at once to start talking over all these ideas with Obadiah, but one glance back at the Queen made me pause. What was I doing? She looked so ill, so frail.
“Please don’t rush off again, my dear,” she said lightly, taking my hand. There was no lightness in her eyes. “Take a stroll with me round the garden. We’ve spent so little time together.”
I acquiesced. We walked out through the double doors at the back end of the hall, onto a loggia of sorts made from gleaming crystal. Fantastical plants bloomed to our left and right: towering topiaries, twining orchids and bluebells that actually rang. The Queen extended her arm to me, and awkwardly I took it, less as a gesture of affection and more out of worry that I might actually have to hold her up. Was she well enough to walk? But she seemed to perk up a bit in the fresh air. Perhaps it was the hint of Elixir on the breeze that revived her.
The Elixir breeze reminded me of my promise to the Wolfmen. “Mother, if I may ask you a frank question?”
She nodded uncomfortably.
I didn’t know if she’d answer me honestly, but I figured it was best to ask her about the werewolves’ Elixir first, before divulging that they were plotting to kill her.
“Have you been stealing the Wolfmen’s Elixir?”
She looked affronted. “No, of course not. There’s a treaty.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You would never break that treaty?”
She shook her head. “There would be a civil war between the Wolfmen and the Fey. We can’t have that. Their Elixir streams are drying up on their own.”
“So you’re not diluting their streams?”
“No. Why would you think that?”
I looked her straight in the eye and she stared back at me. I believed that she was telling me the truth. It wasn’t like the Queen had a great track record of being honest with me. But I knew she trus
ted me. Something in my gut told me that she was being genuine.
“The Wolfmen think you are,” I explained. “Their abilities have been affected recently. They think you’re behind it.”
“I’m not.”
“I believe you,” I said, and my mother smiled at me gratefully. “But they think you are. And if something doesn’t change, they’re going to try to assassinate you.”
“Lovely,” said the Queen. “That’s just what I need right now. Well, we have a few weeks till the full moon. I’ll tell Korvus; we’ll have time to prepare ourselves.”
“But that’s the problem,” I said. “Part of the weakening of their Elixir is that some of their members can’t change out of Werewolf form once they’re in it. They’re in full Were form all the time now, even when the moon isn’t full.”
“Noted,” said the Queen. She sounded exhausted at the very thought. “I’ll be on my guard.”
She was silent for a long moment and when she spoke at last her voice was very quiet, very tender.
“Thank you for looking out for me, Mab. You didn’t have to tell me that.”
I squirmed uncomfortably, realizing the full impact of what I’d done: potentially saving the Fairy Queen’s life at the expense of the Wolfmen. Was that for the best? Maybe Manahatta would be run better by Wolfmen. Who was I to know? But I couldn’t let her die. The Queen had showed me that she was trying.
We walked farther down the garden path in the sun-dappled shade, through a loggia whose columns were carved into the likenesses of past Fairy Queens.
My mother turned to me. “I’m so glad we’re able to spend this time together. Even if I don’t have much left. Whatever time remains to me, I hope I can spend it with you.”
My stomach clenched at her words.
Whatever conversations I’d ever wanted my mother and me to have, I had to start them now. And there was one question that had been burning in my heart, ever since she first revealed to me that she was my mother. I’d been waiting for the right moment to ask. And now I was afraid I couldn’t wait anymore.
“Mom, I know you’re my birth mother, but . . . who was my father?”
I held my breath as the words left my lips. I was so afraid to know the answer to this question. Her face looked stricken. For a second, I regretted asking.
“We don’t speak of him,” she said, her voice so soft as to be barely audible.
I started to say something in reply, then stopped. Her eyes were so full of sadness, and she was so sick, so frail, I felt cruel pressing her to talk about something that clearly pained her. But we didn’t have all the time in the world anymore. We might not have much time at all. I couldn’t wait for the perfect moment to have this conversation with her. I had to put forth all the questions I’d ever wanted to ask her now, while I still could.
“Look,” I whispered, “I don’t want to make you talk about things you’d rather not talk about. But I need to know. I have a right to know.”
She turned to me, suddenly so very, very old.
“I know,” she said gently. “You do. But it would do you no good.”
I wasn’t going to let her end the conversation like this.
“Please tell me. Let me make the decision for myself. I’d like to meet him at least.”
She turned away from me, and I realized she was crying.
I felt awful. Listening to her sobs and being able to do nothing but fish around in my purse and find only an already used tissue.
“I would have loved for you to meet him,” she said quietly. “But he’s gone.”
A soft sound of defeat escaped my throat and I looked down at the ground, feeling so incredibly disappointed. I didn’t know what I had been seeking in my birth father, but the knowledge that I’d never, ever get to meet him, because he was dead, was a blow.
“When did he . . . ?” I started to ask.
My mother cut me off. “When you were still within my womb. He never met you.”
At least she hadn’t been keeping him from me. It was a small consolation.
“Will you tell me what he was like?” I asked.
“He was beautiful,” she said, smiling to herself. “Kind. Good.” Then her face darkened. “Too good for this world, I suppose. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now; he’s forever lost to us.”
“Of course it matters,” I piped up, and slowly she raised her shaking fingers and tenderly stroked the top of my head.
“He would have been very proud of you,” she said softly. Then the old mask of reserve spread over her face. “I’d rather not speak of him. It pains me, even after all this time, that I couldn’t save him. Let’s go back to the palace, shall we, Mab? I think I need to sit down.”
“Of course.” I reluctantly slipped my hand into the cold, trembling crook of her arm.
We began to walk back towards the Great Hall.
“You must be famished, my darling.” The Queen smiled at me. “I will have my servants prepare a feast for you. Come. We can talk more later.”
“It’s alright. I had dinner before I came.”
“You don’t want to eat?” the Queen asked, crestfallen, and I felt a trifle guilty. Fairies didn’t need food for sustenance, so my mother didn’t have any sense of how often humans really needed to eat. She offered me food every chance she could. There was something sweet about it. But I was still afraid to partake of her magical banquets—all it had taken to trap Persephone was a single pomegranate seed.
I told the Queen I had to go. She looked disappointed, and in truth, part of me was loath to leave too. But now that I suspected Korvus was behind what was happening to Quinn and the other girls, I had to take action. Plus, if the Queen wasn’t the one stealing from the werewolves’ Elixir streams, my bet was again on Korvus. Before I left, I asked my mother how to find Korvus’ dwelling, and she drew me a map on a bit of bark parchment, carving lines into the soft wood with her razor-sharp fingernails.
“I’ll be back,” I said to her as we hugged goodbye awkwardly. She felt so frail in my arms.
She nodded, but something in her eyes said she didn’t believe me.
“Just think about what I told you, about being Queen,” she said, her eyes boring into mine. “It’s your choice, Mab. But please, consider.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I left her standing there amidst the shining Quartz Spires of the loggia, feeling heavy at heart. When I got to the double doors and turned around to look back at her over my shoulder, I saw Korvus coming towards her, walking quickly, his long robes bobbing in his wake. He was clearly anxious to be back with his Queen. I increased my pace. What if the Queen innocently mentioned something to Korvus about me saying I wanted to talk to him? What if she told him offhand she’d given me his address? If I wanted to spy on his dwelling, I needed to hurry, just in case.
Chapter 9
I walked as quickly as I could out of the palace and onto the road that would lead me back to Obadiah’s safe house. It would be a long way, though, and I cursed the time as I walked as quickly as I could. The longer it took for me to get back to Obadiah, the less time we’d have on our spying errand. I had just left the last of the Quartz Spires behind and entered a grove of House Trees when I heard a rustle in the leaves behind me. I whirled around.
But then I heard a voice whisper, “Over here.”
I looked behind me.
Obadiah was standing in the shadow of one of the trees.
I leaped off the path and into his arms. He raised a finger to his lips, and then lowered it so I could kiss him.
“You shouldn’t be this close to the palace,” I chided him.
“I didn’t want you to have to walk all that way by yourself.”
I shook my head, but in truth I was glad he was there. It would save us time on our errand to Korvus’, considering his dwelling was much closer to the palace than to Obadiah’s secret hideout.
“We need to break into Korvus’ apartments. I’m pretty sure he’s the fairy masque
rading as Cory, but I’d like proof. He’s busy with the Queen right now. Hopefully she won’t tell him I asked for his address. Going while he’s at work will be our best chance.” I showed Obadiah the Queen’s map.
“Then let’s go. The sooner we’re both out of here, the safer we’ll be.”
We set off, following the line on the Queen’s map, which turned into a little pebble path off the shining Broad Way.
“The map shows it as the tenth House Tree on the right-hand side,” I said. “This has to be it.”
I pointed at the unassuming door in the small, gnarled tree before us. Korvus’ tree was shaped very much like him: short, squat and ugly. The tree wasn’t big enough to house any rooms. It must just be a vestibule to the real house underground.
“How are we going to get in, though?” I asked. “We’ve got a map, but no way through the door. I’m sure he has protective wards on it or something.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Goblins aren’t innate magic users. He wouldn’t use a spell if a simple lock would do. Luckily, I happen to be an excellent lock picker.”
Obadiah produced a penknife with a mother of pearl inlaid handle from his pocket. It looked old and well used.
“Pardon me while I give this a try.”
He squatted down to be eye level with the door handle and gingerly fished his knife blade in and around the lock, his brow tensed in concentration. I leaned up against the trunk, watching the path to make sure no one was coming. But the path was deserted. Obadiah continued to work. I heard him curse under his breath.
“Shouldn’t have thought it would be easy,” he said with a grimace. “Certain kinds of locks are much harder to pick than others. I would need better tools than this knife to get in there. Unfortunately, that’s all I brought with me. I’d have to go back to the human world to get my kit.”