5
River and I found the others inside the conservatory. I sat down beside a plant, which immediately wrapped itself around my leg. Hazel zapped it with Summer magic and it withdrew.
“Bloody plants,” Morgan growled. “One of them tried to strangle me.”
“Be thankful it wasn’t worse,” River said. “If you intend to insult every Sidhe present, you won’t walk out of this realm alive.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll behave,” Morgan said. “If nobody insults me. Or humans in general, come to that.”
“Morgan,” Hazel said warningly. “If you want to get into an argument, pick literally anyone except the Sidhe. I have one shot to get information on Mum. I can’t waste it chasing you around.”
“Nor me,” I said. “I can pretty much bet that this Sidhe event won’t be human friendly. Also, this.” I pointed at my forehead. “Your father seemed to recognise it, River.” I glanced over my shoulder, but if the Sidhe wanted to hear what we were saying, I doubted he’d bother to hide himself.
“He likely knew it for an Invocation,” River said. “The language is intimately familiar to the Sidhe, as much as their own. Maybe you should obtain a glamour… Hazel, your magic should be stronger here. Mine is, too, but glamour isn’t my strong point.”
“You’re saying I should put a fae disguise on those two?” said Hazel dubiously. “I can, but if any of the Sidhe so much as breathe in their direction, it’ll probably fall off.”
“It’ll get us in,” River said. “Hazel and I have implicit invitations, but you two… it’s possible the Sidhe will make a fuss. I’ll ask my father—”
“There’s no need,” growled a voice. The brownie had sidled into the room, unseen. “I will ask them myself. As a member of the Council of Twelve, I am allowed passage to speak with the ambassadors.”
“Thank you, Quentin,” River said.
Hazel stared at the brownie. “I didn’t know the council was allowed here. Does that mean they’re all in Faerie? Even the humans?”
“No,” said the brownie. “I serve two families, one here, one in the mortal realm, and it is my duty to act on behalf of the Council of Twelve to ensure peace between our realms. Your mission’s purpose is to keep the peace, therefore, I can ask for permission.”
He bowed and left.
“Am I missing something?” I asked.
“Yeah, I didn’t understand a word he just said,” Morgan said.
“The council… the alliance between human and faerie realms,” Hazel said. “That brownie must carry messages between here and the human council in the mortal realm. So he has the clout to get us into this event. Good enough.”
“A council of humans and Sidhe?” I asked. “Would they know where Mum is?”
“I don’t know which Sidhe are on the council, because it’s new,” Hazel said. “It only formed in the last year. But… hmm. Might explain why Lord Raivan’s so prickly. He’s stuck dealing with humans.”
“So the brownie can get us in,” Morgan said. “Good enough for me. Who’s holding the event?”
“Lord Niall, of course,” said Hazel, with an eye-roll. “It’s always Lord Niall. They say he held a party all through the last war with Winter.”
“I don’t think so,” River said. “Likely an exaggeration… but he does have a reputation. He doesn’t care much for torturing mortals, but his guests might feel differently.”
“Then we’ll wear disguises,” said Morgan. “Can I have some shiny special effects now?”
“I’ll do my best,” Hazel said, drumming her fingertips on her knees. “Better hope the magic in this place is enough to make up for the drought.”
Great. So I have to dress up as one of them. For Mum’s sake, I’d dress up as a troll, but when Hazel was done with Morgan and turned to me, I dug my heels in.
“If my glamour falls off, the mark’s the first thing they’ll see,” I said. “I need to be prepared to fight or run. No magical dresses this time.”
“I was thinking the same,” Hazel said, to my surprise. “Okay. Let’s see what I can do.”
To my surprise, since the Sidhe didn’t have strictly gendered clothing, nobody commented on my knee-length armoured coat and trousers like the Sidhe warriors wore. Being a glamour, the armour wasn’t as thick as it looked, but hopefully it’d deter people from taking a shot at me.
The pointed ears were seriously weird, even though when I touched my ear, it felt normal under the illusion. And my glowing green eyes would make it even more likely people would confuse me with Hazel. All I needed was a horse and I might actually pass as a Sidhe. I’d ridden them a few times in the mortal realm but was long out of practise, and the horses the Sidhe rode definitely weren’t made of the same stuff. They moved with the same eerie grace as their faerie kin, and I frowned when I spotted several of them tethered at the front of the house with Hazel beside them.
“We’re riding?” I asked River.
He briefly stroked a coal-black horse’s head, and lithely sprang onto its back. “It’s quicker. It also might be more comfortable if you join me. The horses can tell you’re human.”
“No, it’s cool.” I climbed up behind him awkwardly. How many times could we be put in compromising situations in a single day?
“Come on,” said Hazel, who sat astride a magnificent white steed which wouldn’t have looked out of place as a Lord of the Rings extra. She wore a dress in shades of gold and lilac, her circlet gleaming with magic. Real flowers were twined in her hair, which spilled down her back in golden curls. Magic, but not an illusion like my own was. Behind her, Morgan slouched back on the horse, somewhat dampening the image. He wore his own Sidhe disguise with pointed ears and jet black hair grown out past his shoulders Sidhe-style, but he sat like a human.
“No galloping,” he said. “I’d like to get out of this with my balls in one piece, thanks.”
“Nobody wants to know, Morgan,” Hazel said. “Let’s go.”
The horse took off in a gliding motion that momentarily convinced my body we’d actually left the ground. I grabbed River’s coat for balance, too startled to yell. The ground slid away, the movement more like flying than riding. In the space of a few seconds, we left the garden behind, and there was nothing but trees on either side. I heard Morgan swearing loudly behind me.
“Holy shit,” I gasped into the back of River’s coat.
“It gets easier,” he said. “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.”
“I’ve ridden fairground rides that were less hair-raising—” I cut off in a gasp as the horse performed another dizzying glide, this time landing in a field of flowers. Their perfumed scent only made me even more dizzy, and I was fervently glad I hadn’t eaten in hours. “Please tell me it’s almost over.”
I felt his body vibrate with laughter beneath the death grip I had around him. A third glide brought us up to a thorny gate in front of another manor house, at which point two armoured Sidhe nodded to River and let us pass.
“Wait, we’re in?” I shook my head. “Wow. Apparently Sidhe nearly falling off their horses is a common sight.”
“You aren’t going to fall off,” he said. “At least, the way you’re crushing my ribs indicates that’s not the case.”
Ah. “Sorry.” I loosened my hold, barely lingering a second to enjoy the sensation of his hard muscles beneath my hands. I carefully climbed down, after which River led the horse to the stables in the manor’s expansive grounds.
Bright flowers that didn’t exist in the mortal realm exuded a smell that captured all my senses at once, while a thick forest surrounded the back of the manor. Long-leafed, unfamiliar plants stood on either side of the oak doors, which were wide open, inviting. Guests walked in and out, talking in the faerie tongue. I didn’t know enough of the language to eavesdrop on whatever the Sidhe found to be interesting conversation topics.
Humans would call the Sidhe ‘pretty’, in the ‘deadly rose with sharp thorns’ or ‘angry peacock’ sense. They wore sim
ilar finery—long coats embossed in gold, with flowers, feathers and thorns being a popular feature. They generally kept their hair long, and wore elaborate headgear or plants woven into their long tresses. All had the trademark bright green eyes of Summer royalty, and their talismans were equally prominent—swords, crossbows, even an axe or two.
I’d worried a little about River, but he was far from the only half-blood present, and the sheer amount of magic in the air made the half-faeries look almost identical to the Sidhe anyway. He blended in perfectly, in shades of green and gold. His hair glowed, and so did his eyes. God, he was gorgeous. And untouchable, even though I still smelled faintly of his magic from being so close to him during our ride here. Or maybe the hair-raising horse ride and Faerie’s ever-intrusive magic was more to blame. I’d never felt more like a mundane human.
We stepped onto a cobbled path, and I stopped to stare around. The manor was designed more along the lines of a garden than a house, with fountains and statues and tables heaving with faerie dishes. Blood red flowers glowed on the ceiling, gold and white on the walls, and a large tree sat behind it all, which appeared to have merged into the back wall. Doors on the east side led into a courtyard where yet more Sidhe gathered, and a band stood on a wooden stage, playing an eerie melody. My body swayed to it, and part of me wanted to dance, to grab River and press my body close to his again…
Nope. No transforming into wild creatures, no dancing, and definitely no breaking boundaries with River.
Brownies moved amongst the crowd, offering drinks. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Hazel had Morgan under control. He wore a slightly glazed expression, but the illusion of green eyes cancelled it out. In fairness, I probably looked the same. It was impossible to know where to look to avoid being dazzled by the magic. Piskies flitted around, wearing flowery crowns, while a Sidhe took to the stage in the room’s centre.
“Guests,” the male Sidhe said. “Please welcome the esteemed Lord Niall, master of revels.”
I snorted. “That’s his official title?”
“He does know how to throw a party, I’ll give him that,” Hazel whispered, moving in behind me.
“No kidding,” said Morgan.
A handsome male Sidhe wearing a gold crown on his silver hair stepped to the front of the stage, smiling broadly. He held a glass in his hand, probably containing elf wine. “It’s an honour to host so many of the Summer Court’s finest.”
Sure it is. Which of these Sidhe might have callously sent Mum wandering into the Vale, alone? Did any of them know or care that their immortality no longer existed, and war with Winter might be just around the corner?
“Might there be faerie-necromancers here?” I whispered to the others. “It’s not like the Sidhe would know or care.”
“It’s possible,” River murmured. “However, most half-bloods in the Court are in service to the Sidhe and would never betray them in such a way. They know what fate awaits if they do.”
I tuned into Lord Niall’s speech when applause rose from the crowd.
“Let the festivities begin.” He spoke a few words in an odd tone, like a song or a prayer, and the hair lifted off my head as birds exploded into life from the ceiling, flitting over the crowd. Life magic, creating life.
Morgan shook his head, looking dazed. “What the bloody hell was that?”
“Magic,” I said, equally shaken.
“Yeah,” Hazel said. “What a waste. Invocations are the language of the gods. Most Sidhe don’t dare use them at all, and what does that guy do? Summon a bunch of birds.”
“I didn’t know he planned to do that,” River said. “It was rather foolish and showy.”
“Seems like that’s a running theme with that guy,” I said in a low voice. “Let’s not stay any longer than we need to. We have to find who sent Mum into the Vale.”
“Lady Aiten must be in the crowd somewhere,” River said. “She’s likely to know, even if Lord Niall himself doesn’t.”
He took the lead around the room’s perimeter. I followed, wishing I had an oxygen mask or something so I could inhale without filling my lungs with intoxicating magic. It made it hard to think clearly enough to form a plan, much less focus on the crowd and spot Lady Aiten. On my right, a glass door led out onto a wooden veranda. Eyes glittered from the bushes outside.
“Who are those?” I pointed to them.
“Borderland fae,” River said. “They don’t have invitations. Lady Hornbeam’s soldiers, I’d guess.”
“Who?”
“One of the ruling Sidhe of the borderlands,” River said. “Apparently she has an army. It’s not uncommon. Lord Niall doesn’t, however. I think we can question him if Lady Aiten won’t talk, provided that your siblings remember that those same words he just used can also strip the magic from a person, or drive them to madness.”
“Don’t worry. Hazel might be impulsive but she’s no fool, and she’ll keep Morgan in check.”
A Sidhe I recognised walked past, wearing a scowl at odds with the jubilant atmosphere in the room.
“Oh hey, Lord Raivan,” said Hazel. “Might I ask—?”
“I’m not here to assist humans,” he said icily, and stalked away.
“Wow,” said Hazel. “Someone needs a dose of elf wine.”
“You’re not drinking, are you?” I asked warily, remembering the last faerie event we’d both been to.
“Water.” She held up the glass in her hand. “I don’t think Lord Niall is going to leave the crowd any time soon. Better hope Lady Aiten has something useful to say.”
“She might have been the last person to speak to the Gatekeeper, but she might not necessarily have known about her quest,” River said. “The Sidhe keep as many secrets from each other as they do from everyone else.”
“Maybe, but… damn. I don’t understand why she didn’t give us a clue when she spoke to us before.” Hazel stood on tip-toe, annoyance evident on her features. We Lynns weren’t exactly short, but there wasn’t a Sidhe under six feet tall, and picking out one of them was all but impossible. “Right. I think we should split up—”
“Nope,” said River and I at the same time.
Hazel gave him an irritated look. “Cover one half of the room each. You take care of Ilsa, I’ll watch Morgan.”
“Not after what happened last time,” I said. “You damn near died.”
“What?” said Morgan, appearing to tune into the conversation for the first time.
“That’s irrelevant,” Hazel said. “I’m not drinking, and besides, these people won’t attack the Gatekeeper. Meet you here in ten minutes.”
She grabbed Morgan’s arm and pulled him after her into the crowd.
I groaned. “I should have seen this coming.”
“If she doesn’t drink anything, she’ll be fine,” River said.
“Yeah, got it. How much wine does it actually take to get a Sidhe drunk, anyway?” From what I could see, they were drinking it by the bucket-load. Then again, Sidhe’s metabolisms were faster than humans’. I’d never seen a Sidhe in that condition, which was probably for the best. They didn’t bother to control their magic at the best of times.
“I’ve never thought to ask.” He began to circle the room in the opposite direction to Hazel, and I walked alongside him. Sidhe gathered in groups around the fountain, paying little attention to anything other than their own conversations. A bright green glow drew my attention to the sprawling tree at the back of the room, which gave the illusion that the whole house was alive.
As we passed one of the tables, a group of Sidhe walked past. One of them was the female half-faerie who’d come through Summer’s gate to talk to us before. Tall and slim with olive skin and thick dark hair, she wore an imperious expression. Green shone from her eyes and from the crossbow strapped to her back. There she is.
I’d found the Sidhe who’d last seen our mother.
6
I gave River a sideways look. Hazel and Morgan were on the opposite side of the hal
l, and while I didn’t want to lose sight of our quarry, I didn’t particularly want to draw the attention of her companions either.
On the other hand, Lady Aiten knew about the book, and what I’d used it for.
I took in a deep breath, walking after her. River caught my arm, and I shook my head slightly.
“You’re glamoured,” he murmured. “She won’t know who you are.”
“Most people here are glamoured,” I whispered back. “She’ll catch on that we’re following her eventually.” I didn’t slow, continuing to walk after her and her two Sidhe companions. Maybe the two who’d been with her before, in the mortal realm, maybe not.
“Excuse me?” I said. “Lady Aiten, I’d like to speak to you.”
“I thought I smelled a human.” Her contemptuous tone made me want to peel off my disguise and punch her in the nose, but as Hazel had cast the spell, the most I could do was glare.
“You know me. I’m Gatekeeper.”
“Leave,” she told the others, and the two Sidhe stepped lithely away. “Did you risk your life in the mortal realm for nothing? This is no place for a human.”
“The person who sent my mother into the Vale seemed to think it is. Did you?” I pressed. “I’m told you were the last person to speak to the Gatekeeper before she left.”
“The Gatekeeper did indeed come to inform me that she would be away from her duties for a few weeks. She didn’t say where she was going.”
“But you know—” Dammit, telling the Sidhe here about the book was out of the question. “You know what I did. What she gave me. Mum’s the one who did it, and she’s in danger. We need to find out who sent her on this quest so they can bring her back.”
“That’s not how it works,” she said. “It’s your mother’s duty to serve the Court, as it will be your sister’s duty when her time comes.”
“But—can you at least give me a clue about who’d send her there?”
Hereditary Power Page 5