“You act like this is your only option! We can beat this curse, Zephiel. We’ve overcome worse before! We can save you and destroy Fir Darrig,” Freddy insisted.
Zeph gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Do you even hear yourself? Or does stupid come so naturally that you don’t notice it anymore?”
“I hear plenty. Right now, all I’m hearing from you is angry noise.” Freddy closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead before shifting the duffel bag of treasures tucked under his arm. “You’re afraid. I know you are. Anyone would be. You’ve sacrificed everything and gotten nothing for it. You’re about to die for the person you love, but you know it won’t save her. You don’t think anyone can do anything to stop this. That’s why you’ve … given up.”
Zeph’s expression faded from rage to anguish. His chin trembled as he looked down, stuffing his hands back into his coat pockets. I moved closer and looped my arm through his.
Freddy grasped his shoulder. “I can’t undo what happened in the past, and I won’t apologize for choosing my wife over you. Instead, I’d hope that now you’d understand that choice.” He glanced at me. “But I’m here now. I want to help. Will you let me?”
Zeph slowly raised his gaze, his face expressionless as he stared at his brother. My stomach fluttered. He couldn’t reject him—not now. Not like this. I’d always known Zeph to be stubborn, but he needed to let go of his pride just this once—for his own sake, not mine.
At last, he let out a noisy sigh, scratched at his forehead, and muttered a string of curses before giving a small nod. “Fine.”
I sagged against him with relief, leaning my head against his arm.
“You’re wrong about Fir Darrig, though,” he mumbled. “He doesn’t know where the Fibbing Gate is. No one does because it’s not a physical place. It’s a portal, like a spell circle. Only the crowned king or queen of the faeries can call it forth, and only human hands can open it.”
“H-how do you know that?” Freddy sounded worried.
Zeph shrugged. “Because I was there when Josie’s dad discovered it.”
A hard knot formed in the pit of my stomach. I started to pull away. There was more to that story—something he wasn’t going to talk about in front of them. I had a bad feeling I knew why he wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to talk about it in front everyone else, either.
Zeph flicked me a glance, his expression somber. “He’d gotten his hands on a wild tome. I tried to stop him, I swear. I told him it was dangerous—that we should just burn the thing. But he was … obsessed.”
“What does that mean? What’s a wild tome?” I looked around to all my friends for some kind of clue. Freddy and Camilla were staring down like they were avoiding my question completely.
Only Eldrick would meet my gaze. “Put simply, it’s a book of unregulated spellwork.” His mouth straightened and he cleared his throat. “Perhaps now isn’t the time to go into that subject. I’m sure Zeph will be happy to explain more later when you two can discuss it at length.”
I arched an eyebrow. Was he … actually showing Zeph a little respect? I couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be giving us personal space like that. Usually he was happy to flex his superior knowledge of, well, everything.
Freddy shifted his weight, glancing up at Zeph again. “You’ll help us, then?”
Zeph didn’t answer right away. He moved away, letting my arm slide out of his, as he took a fresh cigarette out of his pocket and put it between his lips. “We’re going to need four pieces of naturally occurring staurolite,” he murmured at last. “They have to be perfectly shaped, like crosses, no cracks or faults.”
It seemed ridiculously easy. Four crystals? That was all?
“Isn’t there anything else?” Freddy asked.
Zeph shot him a scathing glare. “Of course. But that’s not something we can get our hands on right this second.”
“What do you mean?” Camilla frowned.
“Weren’t any of you listening? Only a faerie ruler can summon the gate. As in, a king or queen.” Zeph fidgeted with this Zippo lighter, snapping it open and closed. “Which we don’t have because she can’t pick one until the night of the Singing Moon.”
“Genius,” Eldrick murmured quietly. He sounded impressed. “That was why Fir Darrig designed your curse to coincide with the Singing Moon. He was confident you would surrender to his demands by bringing Josie to him on that night in order to save your own life. Without a king or queen, and no way to choose one until that night, no one would be able to call forth the only binding circle that might be able to contain him. It’s quite brilliant.”
Zeph snorted. “Not the word I would use to describe it, but yeah, basically. That’s also why he’d love to get his hands on her before then. Until recently, when little Miss Showoff decided to go nuclear on us with her spellwork, he didn’t know exactly where she was.”
I crossed my arms. “Well excuse me for not wanting to be the helpless victim anymore.”
“So … this is why you think it’s hopeless?” Freddy stood up straighter. “This is why you gave up? Because you didn’t think we could find any way around it?”
Zeph narrowed his eyes. “I know you can’t. What do you think I’ve spent all this time doing? There is no way around it. You can’t summon the Fibbing Gate without a faerie king or queen. One can’t exist until the Singing Moon rises and Josie picks one, which is a whole separate ritual unto itself.”
I squeezed my arms around myself tighter. Maybe they’d just assume I was cold. Internally, my brain was in overdrive trying to remember everything from dad’s research to come up with an idea of how to stop this. There had to be a loophole somewhere—some way we could get around Fir Darrig’s carefully designed scheme. I needed more time. I needed to think.
“We should tread carefully,” Eldrick suggested. “We will have to consider our next move with great caution. Until we can come up with a reasonable plan, we should turn our focus to acquiring the staurolite and keeping Josie out of Fir Darrig’s hands.”
“I think I can manage the staurolite,” Camilla agreed. “Leave that part to us. You boys concentrate on keeping my goddaughter safe.”
“Here, maybe there’s more you can discern from these.” Freddy handed the duffel bag to me with a thin smile that never reached his eyes. “We should get going. I have a meeting with Nagroot in an hour, and the last thing we want is for him to get suspicious. If the Seelie Court got wind that we were plotting against Fir Darrig … or even dreaming of summoning the Fibbing Gate …”
Camilla took her husband’s arm and smiled at us warmly. “That won’t happen. The secret stays between us.”
I nodded and smiled back. “We’ll be in touch. Take care of yourselves.”
Standing between Zeph and Eldrick, I watched Freddy and Camilla walk away, hand-in-hand. So much about them was still a mystery to me. They were always kind, and they treated me like family. Even though they had shared a close relationship with my parents before, it was strange to be around them now. I still didn’t remember them—but I found myself wishing that I did.
I watched them disappear down the street. The duffel bag in my arms felt even heavier once they were gone. I was nervous about what else I might find in those old documents, but more than that, I was afraid of how angry Zeph was that I had been having secret meetings with his relatives.
His silence was already making me a nervous wreck. Usually, when he was upset, he let the whole world know as loudly and with as much profanity as possible. But, he didn’t say a word as we walked home. Even after he finished his cigarette, he didn’t try to hold my hand or look my way. When we got to the front door of the apartment building, I hesitated to go in.
Eldrick turned back when he noticed I wasn’t following them. “What is the matter?”
I couldn’t look at him. “I just … need a moment by myself.”
Zeph had stopped, too, but he didn’t turn around.
“You
shouldn’t be alone out here,” Eldrick said. “You know it’s dangerous.”
“Yes, but I’m okay. I won’t be long. I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t push it, although I caught a glimpse of a disapproving frown on his face as he followed Zeph into the building.
Standing alone on the curb, I looked up at the starry sky that peeked through the crowded buildings that towered over me. Jack had done a number on us tonight. Even under my layers of winter clothes and thick coat, I could still feel a tingling chill whenever the wind blew.
I turned around and sat on the front steps, dropping the duffel bag at my feet. It seemed like ages since the last time I sat here. Zeph had been angry with me then, too. A lot had changed in the past few months. My life had been turned upside down, shaken, and scrambled thoroughly. I had no regrets, and I cherished all of it. All the silly fights with Zeph, all the quiet coffee dates with Eldrick, all the stressful days of school watching Joe bask in the glow of everyone’s adoration. Remembering it made me nostalgic.
“There’s that weird smile again.”
I winced as Zeph suddenly appeared. He sat down beside me, holding a fresh cigarette between his lips while he searched his pockets for his lighter. The pain was bad tonight.
“Zeph, I …” I tried to speak, but the words got hung in my throat.
He arched an eyebrow at me curiously. “What?”
“Nothing,” I sighed and leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “I’m sorry about Freddy and Camilla. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that.”
“Relax, princess.” He lit his cigarette. I watched as he puffed a few deep breaths and blew a perfect smoke ring into the air. “I’m not mad or anything. I get why you did it. I’d have probably done the same thing, in your shoes.”
Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. “I wish there was some way you could make up with them.”
Zeph snorted. “I’m not mad at them, either.”
“What?” I was stunned. “Then what was all that noise for? All the years of pushing them away?”
“Think about it this way,” he interrupted. “If you had a sibling, a baby brother who was a mushy, emotional ball of insecurity who cried over everything and got pummeled on the playground all his life, what would you do? Would you drag him into a fight?”
“But Freddy thinks you’re angry at him for not joining you when you first went to fight Fir Darrig,” I told him. “He thinks you’ve blamed him all these years!”
“Freddy takes everything the wrong way.” Zeph shrugged. “I never expected him to follow me. I’m not that stupid, despite what everyone says. And, I wasn’t going to let him follow me into this mess after I went and screwed it all up.” He took out his lighter and started playing with it again. “I wasn’t about to ask my little brother to watch me die. I wasn’t going to ask anyone to do that. But you meddling kids just wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“So … you’ve been trying to protect him?” I guessed.
“Trying being the key word there,” he said. “Failing would be more accurate, I guess. Cause now you’re all involved. Does it piss me off? Yeah, a little, but I’m not gonna fight you over it. Nobody wants to die alone. Hell, nobody wants to die at all.”
I watched as Zeph dug his hand back into his coat pocket. He pulled out an old, battered envelope and handed it to me. On the outside, written in my dad’s handwriting, was my name.
“He wanted me to give it to you when you were ready,” Zeph explained. “Now seems as good a time as any.”
My hands trembled as I opened the envelope. Inside, there were several sheets of paper covered in handwriting and a collection of old Polaroid photographs. I held the pictures up to the glow of the streetlights so I could see them more clearly.
The first two were of my parents. The sight of their smiling faces immediately made my eyes water. They were hugging each other, grinning happily.
Seeing her—my mom—made my heart hit the back of my throat. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was. Her hair was coppery red and she had lots of freckles, like me. She was wearing a red, heart-shaped pendant around her neck that caught the light. My dad had his hand on her round, pregnant belly, and a proud grin on his lips.
The next shot had my brother, William, in it as well. He looked like he was six or seven years old. His hair was dark brown and wavy, and freckles dusted his cheeks and nose. His eyes were a vivid shade of hazel, almost like green marble with streaks of amber. We didn’t look much alike, except for the freckles. He favored Dad.
I flipped through the rest of the pictures. Most of them were family snapshots like that or silly pictures of my parents, but then I saw more familiar faces. There was one of mom and Camilla holding up little pink baby clothes. Another one showed Dad, Freddy, and Zeph wearing the most awful, ugly matching Christmas sweaters. They looked like they might be drunk.
I stopped at the last picture, stunned. It was the first one in the stack that I was in. I was a toddler, maybe three or four years old. But that wasn’t why I stared at it for so long.
I stared because of who was holding me.
Zeph had me on his hip, grinning at the camera with that signature smirk of his. I had one of my chubby little arms wrapped around his neck, and my cheek pushed up against his. He appeared no older than twelve, lanky and cherub-faced in a way that reminded me of Jack somewhat. His hair and clothes were different, styled for another era, but I recognized those violet eyes right away. His smile was so bright, so full of life and joy.
My heart wrenched. Until that moment, staring at that faded memory, I’d never seen him smile like that before.
“I thought you were ancient? Why have you aged so much since this was taken?” I asked quietly. “Is it because of the curse?”
Zeph shrugged. “A face is just a face; I can change that easily enough. You always liked it better when I looked like a kid. And … I would do anything if it made you happy.”
My lips parted as I stared at him, wondering at all these memories that were somehow missing from my mind. Why? Why had I forgotten all of this? “Zeph, did something happen to me?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t remember you, Freddy, or Camilla. I don’t remember much of anything from before William died. It’s fuzzy, and the further I try to think back …”
He held out his hand for the photos and tapped a finger on the letter that had also been stuffed into the envelope. “Read first. Then we’ll talk.”
At least, I assumed it was a letter. The first two pages were, but the rest of the pagers were covered in faerie writing, diagrams, and descriptions. At first, I only glanced at them. I was more interested in my dad’s letter. But as I read, I realized what was written on those additional pages, and in such extreme attention to detail.
Then, I understood.
Sweet Josie,
I’m giving this message to Zeph for safekeeping until you are old enough to understand what must be done. Perhaps I’ll be lucky enough to give it to you myself, but if not, I wanted you to know how much your mother and I love you.
As I write this, you’re still so young. I’ve done my best to protect you from the evil things in the world that will be looking for you soon. In some cases, that’s forced me to make difficult decisions. Sometimes I worry that I’m not making the right choices, and I can only pray that your mother would agree with me when I do these things for your sake.
By now, I’m sure you know what you are. You also likely know how it is going to make your life complicated and dangerous. I’ve done everything I can to make sure you’ll be safe if anything happens to me. Some of these things probably seem strange to you, but it’s a strange world we live in, Josie. Strange, but beautiful.
Regardless of what he may tell you, I know Zeph is a good man. I know he cares for you. I know he would rather give his life than see you in danger, which is why I made him your legal guardian. I told him he could
keep his anonymity, if he wished. I even suggested that it might be better if he did, because the more exposure you have to the faerie world, the more your power will begin to awaken. I gave him permission, if he believed it was best, to cloud your memories so that you wouldn’t go looking for him or anyone else tied to his world until the time was right.
Eldrick is a good man, too. He just doesn’t realize it, yet. I’ve seen him defy his heritage and choose to be honorable when he could have been as dark and treacherous as his bloodline would imply. That’s why I have contracted him to remain by your side because there may come a day when you need his strength—not just for yourself, but for others, as well. He has much to learn about humanity. His past interactions with us have all but broken his ability to trust any human. But I know you can change that. Until then, try to be patient with him and remember that it is often the hearts that lash out with rage and bitterness that have suffered the most. Anger isn’t just an emotion; it’s a reaction. It’s most often the voice of pain.
What I have to tell you now is difficult. As I write this, Fir Darrig is relentlessly hunting what remains of our family. I admit I’m not as brave as your mother was. She smiled until the very end. She had faith that I would be able to protect our family. But, when Fir Darrig took your brother’s life, I lost myself in grief. I poured every ounce of my energy into the pursuit of a way to destroy him so that you, my sweet girl, could be safe.
You are the vessel. It’s not something you or anyone else chose. You were born with this gift, and you can never be rid of it. It’s true that in the past, most vessels have suffered tragic lives only to die miserably at the hands of some slave master. I believe this cycle will end with you—not because of anything I do, but because you have your mother’s fighting spirit. I pray you never lose that fire.
By now, I’m sure you know it’s very hard to kill a faerie. It’s almost impossible to destroy one as old and powerful as Fir Darrig. Many have tried and failed. They all insist it’s as though he’s found some way to make himself immortal. If that is the case, he cannot be killed.
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