Suddenly, they stopped, jolting her back to reality. She looked around. She still sat in the tree—the same tree. But she no longer sat in the faery garden in the back of Findlay House.
Yes, she’d most definitely gone mad. How could she not be in the garden?
This was a garden, a wilder one, the colors more brilliant. Everything shimmered and sparkled as if dipped in diamond dust.
Tiny balls of light flew around her. One landed on her hand and it tickled softly, like a butterfly. Upon closer inspection it seemed to be a glowing butterfly.
A glowing butterfly with the body of a person?
Noli shook her head, startling the little ball. They’d put poppy syrup in her food to keep her passive and she fell asleep in the tree. She needed to wake up and go back to the house or she’d be in trouble.
“Wake up, Noli, wake up.” Her eyes squeezed together. When she opened them, she still sat in the strange garden. The sky above held stars unlike the ones she’d gazed at so many times with V. This dusky rose sky held no moon.
She pinched herself hard, but that didn’t work. Neither did slapping herself. She jumped out of the tree. A pain shot though her foot. Ow. Dreams didn’t hurt. Did they?
The little balls of light surrounded her as she sat on the ground, cupping her bare foot. They reminded her of illustrations of faeries from a book.
That was silly. It was all a hallucination. Faeries weren’t real. Science said so.
V said they were. But that was V. He always spouted nonsense about faery trees, faery flowers, faery rings …
She drew in a sharp breath as a realization cascaded over her with the force of a punch in the stomach. All those things V had told her to watch for, things she’d discounted as poppycock, were present in the garden—the giant oak, the wildness, flowers faeries liked, a ring of mushrooms. A little ball of pink light landed on her hand.
Carefully, she examined it, studying it like she might a plant or an engine.
Little eyes blinked at her, as if it examined her right back. Blue eyes, attached to an all too human-like face. Pointed ears peaked out of blonde hair flowing down to her shoulders. Truly, the creature in her hand looked like a miniature person with translucent wings. Her pink dress resembled flower petals.
“Faeries are real?” She scrubbed her eyes with her free hand then looked again. No, it was still there. Gently, she touched the hair of the creature with her finger. The creature flew off her hand as if startled. She flew closer, tugged on an escaped strand of Noli’s hair, then flew a few feet away in a fit of giggles. A few other balls of light joined the pink one. A purple one flew up and perched on Noli’s nose, making her go cross eyed.
No this wasn’t a hallucination. Everything she knew about science and the world collapse on her, making her gasp for breath. They were little people, real things with curiosity.
If faeries were real, what else existed?
Her heart thumped at the thought of things like ogres and trolls.
Right now the bigger problem was how she’d get back to Los Angeles. “Where am I?” she asked, hoping they were intelligent.
The little faery joined the others and they flew around her as if trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t quite understand. Wherever she was, it was wild and beautiful. There was no Miss Gregory, no Dr. Martin.
But no Charlotte. Or V. Or her mama.
A crack of a branch made her head whip around. Her body tensed as she tucked her necklace away. “Who’s there?”
“Hello, Magnolia.” A figure emerged from the shadows. Even though there seemed to be no moon in this place, she could see him perfectly. There stood the man from next door. The one who spoke with her and Charlotte. The one who called himself Kevighn Silver.
Eleven
The Otherworld
Noli’s heart raced as the strange, ethereal man approached her. The faeries swirled around her like a miniature battalion of protectors.
“Who are you? Where am I?” Her voice came out as the barest of whispers.
“I won’t harm you, Magnolia.” The words dripped from his lips like liquid silver.
His black hair hung loose and piercing yellow eyes sparkled wildly in the moonless night. He was a beautiful man, like a Greek statue from a picture in one of V’s books. Kevighn may be dressed as a gentleman, but tonight it seemed out of place, as if he wore a costume.
Yes, Kevighn Silver seemed far too untamed—ferocious even—to be a true gentleman. Yet he didn’t seem to be a truly dangerous hooligan, like an air pirate.
“How … how do you know my name?” she demanded. Something about the way he spoke her name made her uncomfortable, but not in the same way Dr. Martin did.
“How did you come to be here?” Smiling in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, he gestured to the shimmery, magical faery garden they stood in.
“Where are we? Who are you?” she retorted.
“I’m Kevighn, as I told you before.” He looked around. “I’m not precisely sure where you’ve brought us, just that we’re someplace in the Otherworld.”
It took a moment for his words to register and when they did, made fear, confusion, and anger rumble in the pit her belly.
“Me? I brought us here? How could I bring us here? And why would I bring you, Mr. Silver?” Her voice rose in pitch. If she’d bring anyone it would be Charlotte or V, not some man she didn’t know.
“Your wish, Magnolia. You brought yourself here with your beautiful wish. I was simply caught in its magic. Didn’t anyone ever tell you to not make a wish in a faery tree under a full moon on the night of the solstice?” He arched an eyebrow as if she’d ignored a basic rule.
“What are you talking about?” Perhaps she truly was in some poppy syrup-induced dream. It was easier to believe that than her wish bringing her someplace … else.
“Words have power, especially on nights such as this. The magic heard your wish and brought you here.” He flashed her a smile which did nothing to reassure her.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s no such thing as magic.”
A dark eyebrow rose. “No?”
“No.” Her voice soured to hide her fear. Standing, she brushed off her grey nightdress. “If you’ll excuse me, I need return to before I’m missed.” Turning on her bare feet, she started towards the exit of the strange garden.
“Magnolia, wait,” he called.
Ignoring him, she ran towards the familiar walls. When she reached the gate, she threw it open. Instead of being greeted by the familiar, orderly garden, she saw only chaos.
Chaos. That best described the disordered wilds stretching before her as far as she could see. For a moment she simply stood there, one hand on the gate.
“This part of the Otherworld isn’t safe for you, Magnolia.” Kevighn stood behind her.
She wasn’t in San Francisco anymore. That thought chilled her to the bone and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the Otherworld—a place very different from your own realm.”
“Another world? Are you serious? That’s even sillier than magic and wishes. Everyone knows there’s no such thing.” As she looked around she knew in the pit of her belly that she could be nowhere but some other realm. The realization turned her knees to jelly. Panic sent her heart racing. “Where exactly is this Otherworld? I have to get back to Los Angeles.”
“What is in Los Angeles?”
Turning to face him, she blinked in surprise. “My home. Certainly, I’m not returning to that dreadful place.”
Not even if they made her.
“Of course not.” He smiled in a soothing way.
“But I don’t know how to get to Los Angeles from here.” Her voice became a hushed whisper as she tried not to tremble. Little fairies settled on her shoulders in reassurance. She looked at Kevighn who seemed to be not be bothered by this situation. “Can I get to Los Angeles from here?”
“The Otherworl
d isn’t on any of your maps, and you can’t get there by steamer, train, or even airship. You can only get there by gates, like the one you brought us through. These gates connect our two worlds at many, many points. You can’t get there from this place specifically but, yes, you can get to many places from the Otherworld, Los Angeles included.”
Relief flowed through her, causing her tense muscles to relax. “Will you please take me there now?”
Trusting this stranger was better than getting lost in that. She didn’t want to think too hard about his rather convenient appearance. Instead, she’d concentrate on getting back to Los Angeles. To her mother. To V. She hoped they’d both be happy to see her.
His frowned and shook his head. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t know how.”
Noli bit her lip and twisted her hands.
“Don’t fret. You can come with me to my home and we’ll figure it out from there.” He offered her his pale hand.
Noli hesitated. It was one thing for him to take her home; it was another for him to take her to his home. She could take her chances and just try to find Los Angeles herself. One glance at the chaos beyond the gate told her that the notion was utterly ridiculous. Could she get back through the tree? But if she could do that, which also sounded ridiculous, it would bring her back to Findlay. Kevighn, at least, had the ability not only to take her away from this garden in the middle of nowhere, but to take her home.
She looked at the tree, then back into the chaos. No, she wouldn’t take her chances in the chaos. But to go to the house of a strange man? “And then we’ll go to Los Angeles?”
“Come with me, and I promise that everything will be fine.”
Noli cocked her head. Really, she didn’t have much choice. “Promise?”
“Promise.” He smiled and his face lit up like sunlight streaming in through stained glass in church. How could one not trust such a smile?
Noli took his outstretched hand.
“This is where you live?” Noli asked as they approached the log cabin deep within a wood filled with the biggest oak trees she’d ever see, towering over her like giants.
“Whenever I can.” Notes of wistfulness tinged his voice. “Often, I’m at the palace.”
“Palace?” They walked down the worn, dirt path. They’d used the faery tree, a wild gate as Kevighn called it, to connect to other gates, places in this strange world. The Otherworld. The sky held the same twilight as the wild garden, but here it appeared duskier, more purple than pink. Unfamiliar stars winked at her, two strange moons hung in the distance.
“Yes, I’m in the service of the high queen. If I’m not elsewhere, doing her work, I’m generally at the palace. And yes,” he added, with a strangely informal look. “We have a queen.”
She bit her lip. “I … I’m having trouble believing I brought you to another land, one you happen to be from … ”
A land with little, tiny faeries. But they had a queen, not a king. That could be progress.
Stopping in her tracks, she turned and studied him. It seemed to be quite the coincidence, him being there when she made her wish. “Why were you in San Francisco?”
“Business for the queen.”
Her eyebrows rose. “In a joy house?”
Kevighn continued down the path. Noli trotted to keep up, not wanting to be left behind. The cabin turned out to be larger than she expected, but not nearly as large as her home in Los Angeles. It was made of roughly hewn logs with windows and a chimney. For some reason it looked so … normal.
Putting his hand on the door he whispered something that wasn’t English. The door opened. By itself.
Noli drew in a sharp breath. “Magic.”
“There’s much magic here.” He smiled. “We have many wondrous things here. Perhaps you’d allow me to show you a bit of my world before you depart?”
She twisted her hands. “I need to get home … ”
Before they told her mama she’d run away.
“Very well.” He ushered her inside. The door closed magically behind him.
The multi-room structure looked a bit like a woodsman’s cabin from a story. A workbench occupied one corner. Another held a case of unusual weaponry that she itched to examine closer. A large, comfortable armchair sat in the center reminding her a bit of her father’s—the one she wasn’t supposed to sit it, but did.
Kevighn’s chair sat in front of the cold, stone hearth. The rug in front of it certainly hadn’t graced the back of any animal she’d ever seen. Hunting trophies of unfamiliar animal heads gazed at her with glass eyes.
It didn’t look as if he entertained much. The room held only one chair—no flowers, pictures on the wall, or anything to indicate a feminine presence. “It is apparent you’re unmarried, Mr. Silver.”
“True.” He nodded towards the far side of the room. “Let’s go into the kitchen, I have two chairs at the table.” Kevighn smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes.
The masculine front room opened into an airy little kitchen with a wooden table and two wooden chairs. He gestured to one and she sat. The tidy kitchen was simple and utilitarian, made of wood and stone. The window over the sink looked into an unkempt garden.
“Tea?” He gestured to the shiny, copper stove. A pile of wood sat next to it.
As anxious as she was to get home, tea did sound nice, wherever she was. What harm could come from a cup of tea? “Please?”
She watched as Kevighn lit a fire in the stove, filled the kettle, put it on, and busied himself with setting the table. He went outside and came back with a basket of dark pink fruit the size of golf balls.
“I am afraid I have no milk, but I have honey.” Kevighn shot her a smile as he placed a honey pot on the table along with a bowl of fruit. Such a handsome smile.
As handsome as V’s? Maybe. Goodness, she missed V. What would he say about this grand adventure? Do not talk to faeries.
Oops. But those tiny balls of light didn’t seem like they’d cause any harm.
“Here you go.” Kevighn placed a cup of golden, steaming liquid in front of her. The blue, delicate cups and saucers looked hand-made.
She started to thank him when another one of V’s old stories surfaced. Never thank a faery. The man in front of her was hardly a faery; after all, he stood taller than V. Still, something within her warned her to follow that odd bit of lore. As she sipped her tea she tried to recall everything else V had told her. All she could remember was not to dance in faery circles.
“I do appreciate it.” Taking the cup in her hands, she blew across the surface. It smelled minty and sweet. Tentatively, she took a sip. The intense, near-burning mint balanced perfectly with the sweetness, which reminded her of sucking the nectar out of fresh-picked flowers with V on lazy summer days.
Adding honey to his own cup, Kevighn took a sip. “You look tired. I know you’re in a rush to return, but it might take time to figure out the safest way to get there. There are few direct paths to anyplace here.”
She set her teacup down in dismay. “How much time?”
“I don’t know. After all, I must be discreet in my inquiries.”
“Oh.” Staring into her teacup, she mulled this over. “Am I not supposed to be here?”
His eyes met hers. “Not precisely.”
“Oh.” Another land. A magical land. Some of her world might seek to exploit it. It was difficult not to readily accept the fact she was elsewhere with what she’d seen so far. Still, it was odd being in some strange man’s home in an unfamiliar land. “You’ll hurry, Mr. Silver?”
“I’ll try.” He took a fruit from the bowl and bit into it. “Have one. I just picked them.” He pushed the bowl towards her.
Her belly rumbled. “Maybe just one.”
When she bit into the firm, fuzzy fruit, the light pink flesh dissolved in her mouth like spun sugar. Juice squirted down her face, making her laugh.
Kevighn tossed her a napkin. “They’re perfectly ripe, aren’t they?”
“They are.�
�� After finishing it, she putting the pit in her saucer, and took another. After she polished off her tea, she felt drowsy.
“Why don’t you take a nap?” He took another piece of fruit from the bowl, which also looked handmade. “I’ll see what I can discover and you can sleep in my room.”
As tired as she was, warning bells went off in her head. “Perhaps I could doze in your chair?”
“Your honor’s safe with me, Magnolia. I would never try anything with an unwilling woman.” He flashed her a genuine smile that made her want to trust him.
She nodded, eyes heavy. “Just a short nap.”
He stood. “As you wish.”
Twelve
Kevighn’s Cabin
Light streamed in through the window as a birdsong greeted her ears. Sheets caressed her skin. Even though she still wore her gray nightdress, this wasn’t her narrow cot at Findlay. Nor did she lay in her room in Los Angeles. She hadn’t even fallen asleep in the tree house.
The previous night’s events crashed down on her. She was at Kevighn Silver’s. The house of a stranger. It definitely hadn’t been a dream. The good thing was she no longer was at Findlay. The bad thing was she wasn’t home.
Feeling refreshed after her nap, she stretched and looked around. The room was simple and neat like the rest of the house—a bed, a chest, a chair, a wardrobe. A single decoration adorned the wall, a painting of a field of flowers.
The door opened and Noli pulled the covers over her. Kevighn walked in, holding something. He’d changed into tan trousers, a deep yellow shirt complementing his eyes, and a brown vest. It made him look … normal, unthreatening.
“Did you figure out how to get to Los Angeles?” she demanded. Her cheeks warmed at her blunt question. She could at least say something pleasant first.
Instead of being angry, he chuckled. “Not yet.” “Hurry, please? I … ” Her cheeks burned again as she fidgeted. “I could get in a lot of trouble for leaving and I want to go home and explain before they tell Mama I ran away.” Memories of Dr. Martin, Miss Gregory, and Margaret made her flinch.
He stood in front of the bed. “Are you positive you wish to return home?”
Innocent Darkness Page 9