by J. S. Malcom
I stop eating long enough to say, “As opposed to vampires and demons.”
“Exactly,” Isaac says. “After all, there's nothing scandalous about vampires and demons.”
“There's nothing even particularly dangerous about them either,” Sloane says. “Not to the Seelie. Those are supernatural creatures of the human realm. They hold no true power in Faerie. Not over life or death, anyway. On the other hand, we're dangerous.”
I take a stab at where I think this is going. “I take it the fae aren't supposed to be diddling humans.”
Sloane laughs. “Bingo. Ironically, they don’t have any issues when it comes to every other way of messing with humans. In other words, cruelty is just fine. Sex, on the other hand, is considered taboo. Which, of course, they love doing. Humans being the perfect sexual plaything for them. After all, if you cheat on your wife or husband with another fae, someone has leverage. Who's a human going to tell, and who cares? By the way, again we're talking about the Seelie. The Unseelie are a different deal, altogether.”
The Seelie keep coming up, but this is the first time the Unseelie have been mentioned. I'm more than curious, but Sloane continues.
“You're probably wondering how the fae even manage to have sex with humans, if they're bound to their realm. Care to take a guess?”
My mind was already going there, so I say, “The same way they create their changelings?”
“Bingo again,” Sloane says. “You're on a roll. They lure them through a rift. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of catching the attention of someone passing by. Just because the fae can no longer use their rifts to cross, doesn't mean they can't see through them. You know that feeling like you're being watched, but when you turn around no one’s there? In case you were wondering, that's the fae.”
A chill ripples down my spine. Creepy. It makes sense too. We've all experienced that feeling, and we keep trying to convince ourselves that it’s just our imagination. So, we are being watched. Well, damn. And there I was thinking things couldn’t get any weirder.
Sloane finally takes a bite of her food, so Isaac picks up where she left off. “They create different kinds of doppelgangers. There are the changelings, which are actual physical manifestations of magic. The fae literally create a double of the one they took. Kind of like a flesh and blood robot, through which they can spy on the human realm. And then there are allurements, projections that act as bait. These are basically psychological illusions, usually of someone the desired individual knows and trusts. The fae use those allurements to lead the target to the rift, and who can resist checking out that rippling shimmer in the air? It just has a way of mesmerizing those who see it. You get the picture.”
And I do, all too painfully. My mind goes to Julia, and I wonder if that was how they lured her in. After all, we'd just called forth Lauren Flannery’s ghost. Grayson knew, of course, so it's easy to imagine him using my doppelganger to show up at her door. Even if she wanted to, Julia wouldn’t refuse my invitation to investigate another strange phenomenon. A shimmering seam in the air, for example.
“To their victims, it must just feel like a strange dream,” Cade says. “After all, there’s no rational explanation for what happened. On top of that, I’m sure the fae use an enchantment so they barely remember, if they remember at all.”
“The original date-rape drug,” Sloane snarls. “The supernatural roofie. After all, who’d willingly have sex with them?”
“I’m sure many would, actually,” Cade says. “Most of them are physically flawless. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
Sloane wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Who cares what they look like. They’re freaking repulsive.”
“Either way,” Isaac says, “Most humans are just popped back through the veil when it’s over, so they write it off as some sort of crazy delusion. What else could it have been, right? But then, if you’re a woman, thirteen months go by and something even stranger happens. At least some of the time.”
That one gets a double-take. “Thirteen months?”
Isaac shrugs. “Thereabouts. For humans, it’s nine months. For straight-up fae, seventeen. Half-bloods usually take about thirteen months to gestate, but of course the woman knows way sooner. It stands to reason that most would attribute the pregnancy to whoever they’ve had sex with since. Unless, of course, they haven’t been having sex. Needless to say, it can be confusing as hell.”
I don’t want to be rude, but as I look back and forth between them, I have to ask. I gesture at Cade’s ears. “What about...?”
Sloane taps her forefinger to the pointy end of her ear. “For most of us, this doesn’t happen until puberty. And not all half-bloods have these beautiful ears.”
She smiles as she says it, letting me know she’s joking. At the same time, now that I’m getting used to their ears, I can see why they’d think them beautiful. They really are cool looking.
“Do most of you have them?”
Sloane waggles her hand in the air. “Two-thirds, probably. Maybe a little more. It just depends on which genes are more dominant, or when we accept what we really are.”
I think back to last night, wondering how the half-bloods knew I wasn’t one of them. I thought it was the ears, but maybe Silvermist really is a tight community.
“And you never really know when they’ll show up either,” Sloane says. “For some, it happens much later in life. Strange, I know, but that’s just the way it is. Anyway, by the time they grow in, most of us have learned how to cast a glamour. After that, hiding our ears isn’t a problem.”
I feel like I’ll never run out of questions. “How would you learn that kind of magic?”
Sloane gestures to the window. “By coming here. This isn’t a place we have to look for. It finds us once we’re old enough. The magic calls out to us. Which brings us back to you, Cassie. What made you skip right past this place and realm-slip into Faerie? I’m sure you must have wondered.”
There’s that same question again, for which I have no answer. All I can do is shrug. “Maybe it’s a veil witch thing. After all, we’re designed to keep intruders out of our realm.”
Sloane studies me intently, her gaze curious. “And your sister. You said she’s a veil witch too. Has she crossed into other realms?”
I stop eating. “Well, no. Not that I know of.”
I expect what’s coming, but Sloane says it first. “So, you’re the only one who’s slipped through. And you didn’t have to try. It just sort of happened.”
I think back to the first time I saw that shimmering seam, and the way it just suddenly appeared before me as I was out walking. “I guess it just sort of called out to me.” As soon as I say it, I wish I could take my words back. Somehow, I know what’s coming.
“So, just like us,” Sloane says. “Except, in your case, you weren’t beckoned by Silvermist. You were beckoned by Faerie.”
CHAPTER 12
As Cade and I walk down the street, I can’t stop gawking at the sight of Silvermist in daylight. Lush trees I didn’t see last night tower behind buildings, their thick branches spread with vivid green leaves. A brilliant sun shines in a clear blue sky. The buildings themselves, some Gothic and others Victorian, appear both old in style and somehow new at the same time. It’s as if architecture from the 18th and 19th centuries had been erected yesterday. Wrought iron fences line the street, each entwined with flowering vines displaying vivid blooms of pink, orange, yellow and violet. Somehow, that glowing mist still rolls along the ground, just above the surface of the cobblestones and grass, as if in defiance of physics.
“Doing okay?”
I snap out of it to see Cade grinning at me. I shake my head to focus on him again. “Doing good.”
“Yeah, it’s something, isn’t it?”
I gaze around again. “Why would you ever leave?”
Cade’s expression clouds, just slightly. “Some things remain out of reach, wherever you are.”
When he doesn’t add more, I think abo
ut what he said. It’s true. It doesn’t matter where you are—even if it’s breathtakingly beautiful—when part of you is missing. I don’t know what Cade feels to be missing in his life, but for me it’s the past I won’t ever have, the childhood I lost, the father who died while I was away. I should have grown up alongside my sister, but I didn’t. I shouldn’t have had to meet my mother again when she was suddenly middle-aged pushing toward old. In each of us, there’s a hole that can’t be filled. Yes, I know what Cade means, and when I think of him again it takes everything I have to keep my eyes from welling with tears. He’s lost someone too. I can feel it.
Something brushes against my shoulder, and I realize Cade reached out to touch me.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize.”
I look over at him, willing my eyes not to mist. “Realize what?”
“You’re sensitive, aren’t you? Maybe even more than just sensitive.”
I force a neutral expression onto my face. “You just lost me.”
Cade grins, as if he’s about to laugh.
When he doesn’t speak, I say, “What?”
“Well, in my experience, there are two kinds of sensitives. Those who open themselves up to it, and those who throw up the wall. And I get it, I do. Don’t get me wrong. There’s only so much we can take on. As it happens, some people don’t have any other choice.”
“I’m not psychic, if that’s what you’re saying.” I know I am, at least partly, but I see that as being Julia’s power, not mine.
Cade shoots me a dubious glance. Still, he says, “Didn’t say you were. Although, that could be handy right now, seeing as we just had our ritual last meal before crossing into Faerie.”
“Got nothing for you. Sorry.”
For some reason, that grin doesn’t fade from Cade’s face. “Had a feeling you were going to say that.”
I seriously feel like slapping him right now, which only gets worse when Cade laughs.
“You don’t know me,” I say.
“Oh, that’s for sure, Cassie. You won’t find me arguing that point. Anyway, we need to get you some new clothes before crossing into Faerie. You’d stand out for a thousand miles wearing what you have on now.”
I glance down to be sure something weird hasn't happened, but I'm still wearing the same jeans, long sleeve t-shirt and jacket I arrived in last night. Needless to say, I wasn't thrilled about not having a change of clothes this morning, but I'm dressed no differently than most of the people walking by. So far, Silvermist appears to be a casual place. Then I think back to the way Cade, Sloane and Isaac spoke about the fae during breakfast.
“So, what's the deal? Am I going to try passing myself off as Seelie?”
Cade doesn't hesitate. “Not likely you'd be able to pull that off.”
“Why's that?”
“You're not good looking enough.”
I jerk my head in his direction. “What?”
As if just then realizing what he said, Cade bursts out laughing. “Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm not good looking enough either. No one I know is good looking enough.”
Based on the few glimpses I've had of the fae, I suspect he’s right. Despite finding them repulsive, I couldn't help but notice their lithe physiques, the perfect symmetry of their faces, their thick long hair and exotic eye colors. They were terrifyingly beautiful.
“Now, Unseelie, on the other hand. You could pull that off if you can manage to keep your ears hidden.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Oh, just that the Unseelie are more… average looking.”
“Hey, thanks buddy.”
Cade jerks his head in my direction. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant more… basic.”
I can't help but take advantage of his discomfort. “Awesome. Basic and average. Just what I was aspiring for.”
Cade’s eyes grow wide. “What? No! I just meant—”
I laugh and give him a light shove. “I know what you meant. I'm just not Seelie material. I can deal with it. So, just who are the Unseelie? You’ve mentioned them a few times now.”
“Well, basically there’s two kind of fae. There’s the aristocratic Seelie, who’ve always been depicted as the more beautiful, kinder race. Then there’s the Unseelie, who’ve always been portrayed as monsters. You know, shadowy ghouls out to steal men’s souls. As much demon as anything else.”
The resentment in Cade’s voice makes me glance over at him. “I take it that’s not the case.”
He scowls and shakes his head. “The Unseelie are the underclass. Dogs for the Seelie to kick. Always have been. That’s why, back when the Seelie still cared what humankind thought, they used the Unseelie as scapegoats. A human got killed? Blame the Unseelie. A human got raped? Blame the Unseelie. Whatever it took to keep the aristocratic hands clean.”
The sudden passion in Cade’s voice, along with his face turning red with anger, leaves no doubt that he’s taken a side in the issue. It’s not something I saw coming, and my mind flashes back to what I felt before. Who is it that Cade lost?
I’m about to ask more when we turn a corner onto the street we walked last night. At least, I think it’s the same street, but it's no longer a mellow scene. Instead, it has transformed into a bustling outdoor market. Vendors line the street selling baked goods, meat and produce, while the street itself is filled with tented stalls flying colorful streamers and displaying vibrant, hand-painted banners. Some of the stalls feature clothing, some arts and crafts, while others display rows of jars holding brightly colored liquids, jewelry and other assorted objects that look suspiciously random. Potions and charms, I assume.
I glance over at Cade again, thankful to see that the frown has left his brow. In fact, he’s smiling.
“What’s all this?”
“Saturday Market. Something of a tradition here.” Cade searches his pockets and adds, “Got anything we can barter with? I forgot that Melanie cleaned me out last night.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet.
Cade shakes his head. “Like I said last night, that won’t work here. I meant more like objects. You know, jewelry, stuff like that.”
The only jewelry I'm wearing are my earrings and a silver bracelet, neither worth very much. I hesitate, and then lift my pant leg to reveal my athame. The thing is like a part of me now, and I sure as hell don’t want to barter it for my fae costume.
Cade looks at the ornate knife handle as he considers. “You should hang onto that,” he says. “You might need it.”
Not exactly comforting, but I’m still relieved.
Cade digs through his pockets again and comes up empty. “Never mind. We'll think of something.”
I spin away from him at the sound of a voice close to my ear. “Too skinny.”
I expect to be flipping some dude off, but rear back when large golden eyes look into mine. The eyes peer out from within a furry white face attached to a furry gray body. The creature is the size of large cat and has a long black and white striped tail. It's clinging onto a stick held by a red-faced middle-aged man.
“Please excuse Arthur,” the man says. “But, well, you know.”
Actually, no I don’t.
“Angry, confused,” the creature says, still staring at me. It sniffs a few times and adds, “Soapy hair.”
Cade laughs and takes hold of my elbow to get me moving again. “Truth lemur,” he says. “They can be a little too honest sometimes. We have some interesting animals here.”
I trail my fingers through my hair. Didn't I rinse enough?
“Nice ass!” the lemur calls out from behind me.
“Pretty sure it meant me,” Cade says. “Oh, look!”
He points to a stall where a crowd of people has stopped to gawk. We draw closer, and I realize they're all looking into a wooden box lined with straw. Within it sits what at first I think to be a group of baby goats. At least, I see three heads, but then I realize there’s only o
ne body.
A woman turns to me. “Trigoats are so cute,” she says. She goes to look again, but then does a double-take in my direction. “Wait, are you—?”
Her eyes flick to the side of my head, but my hair covers my ears. “New in town?” I say. “Yep, just got here yesterday.”
The woman cocks her head, tries to look at my ears again, but then turns away when the trigoat lifts one of its heads to lick her knuckles. She bursts out laughing. “Oh, my God. They’re so cute!”
I can’t help it. I reach out too, and the trigoat lifts another head to lick my fingers. Damn, the thing really is adorable. I want one.
I turn to Cade and say, “Hey, we should—”
He's no longer beside me. I look around again to be sure, but I’m surrounded by unfamiliar trigoat gazers. I try not to freak out. Okay, so maybe Cade meant for us to keep moving and didn’t realize I’d stopped to stare. I mean, it’s not like I’m in danger. So, I’m at some weird market in a half-blood half-realm. Compared to some of the crap I’ve been through, this is a like a day at a theme park.
I back away from the gawking trigoat fans and start walking. Where would I go if I was a Cade? I start cutting through the crowd, but my attention is soon caught by shiny objects. Literally. The booth displays a range of items, all of them exquisitely crafted. Necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and diamond glitter brilliantly in the sunlight. Alongside them rest elegant women's combs, with leaf and flower patterns inlaid with crystal. They look like something once worn by medieval royalty. My gaze travels to a display of ornate daggers and swords, all with jeweled hilts.
“Like what you see?”
I look past the offerings to where a man perches on a stool at the back of the tent. He has a thick black mustache and ears that point upward as he smiles.
“Genuine Seelie, all of it,” he says. “Excellent holiday gifts!”
Right, for those lords and ladies in your life. I shrug. “Sorry, kind of broke right now.”
I set off again, wondering if what he's selling might have been brought back by Cade and his friends. My guess is yes, and it seems like a damned dangerous thing to do. They don't strike me as being greedy types either. I think back to what Cade said this morning, about it being a way to remind the Seelie that they're not all powerful. There's something more going on with Cade, though. I can feel it. And what had Sloane been about to say before Cade cut her off? That my being able to realm-slip freely couldn't possibly mean something? Couldn't possibly mean what?