“She’s a friend,” I repeated, trying not to be obvious as I rubbed my palm. “This is one of the shadelings. Marsh used to be a brownie. She’s been with my family for about a decade.”
Jasika jabbed a finger at Marshmallow. “Wait … you’re telling me you have one of them living with you, and you still go out hunting fairies in the woods?”
“Only the nasties,” Marshmallow insisted. And I was going to add to that when I heard voices, muffled but drawing closer. Shit.
“Hide!” I hissed.
“But Missy, it’s only—”
“Hide!”
And, to her credit, she did. With a bit of a pout, Marshmallow jumped right into a shadow. Jasika jumped, eyes wide.
Knock knock knock!
I scrambled off the bed and pulled the door open to see … oh. Dom stood in the hall, holding a paper grocery bag in one arm. With, of course, both the boys hovering behind him. Both boys. Together. I couldn’t help smiling at that.
Ash scowled, arms crossed. It might have actually looked serious if he didn’t still look sleep-deprived and only half-recovered from his cold. “Bryn, is this your boyfriend?”
“No, and go away,” I snapped.
Ash rolled his eyes and skulked off. Jake smirked. Typical little punk.
Dom cleared his throat and stepped into the room. Right. He’d said Jasika had told him everything. Apparently, that also included the private stuff.
Jasika rose and stepped forward, pulling Dom into a hug. “Hey, I’m glad you made it,” she said, then shot me a side look. “I think we can all agree we need a night to just chill out. As a team.”
Dom returned the hug with one arm. I bit my cheek and stuffed my hands into my pockets. Had to get it over with quick like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“Hey, um … I’m sorry about us not telling you about what we were doing at the hospital,” I managed. “And I know Jasika probably already told you, but Mab is still around.”
Dom looked me up and down, his expression carefully blank before he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gave a tight squeeze. “Okay. Quick download. I’ll tell you what I found, and then tonight we’re taking a break from all the fairy stuff. Call it a mental-health break.”
He set down his bag and pulled out a half-empty bag of pretzels and a bottle of clear vodka. Jasika’s eyes bugged open.
“Dom, you can’t bring that in here. This is a church.”
“This is a convent,” he pointed out. “Besides. They keep wine in the church.” He helped himself to a plastic cup and poured himself a little cocktail of vodka and strawberry soda before offering it to me. Jasika shot me a “don’t you dare” look, and I almost didn’t drink it … but hey. It’s just days, now, until Samhain. Smoke ’em if you got ’em. I took the glass and sipped. It went down like strawberry-flavored lighter fluid. I coughed but went back for a second sip.
Jasika primly turned down the offer for a cup of her own, very pointedly sticking to her strawberry soda.
Dom sprawled out next to us, one arm propped up on the bed.
“So I was right. I had read about that banner somewhere. The night after the fire.” He leveled a finger at me. “It represented the Pendragon family.”
I snorted. “I think you wound up on the Medieval Times website.”
“No, it’s real. I triple-checked it.”
I took another sip from my drink, cringed, and took a deep breath. “Okay. But if what you’re saying is true, then apparently I’m descended from King Arthur. Who wasn’t real.”
“I dunno. Lot of folks think he was based on real people.”
“He didn’t have any kids when he died.”
“Actually, he did,” Jasika cut in with a frown. “According to the story, King Arthur died at the hand of his bastard son Mordred.”
My head felt suddenly light and swimmy. And it wasn’t just from the vodka. I licked my lips. “Well, that’s well and good, but I’m pretty sure Mordred died, too. And I’m not seeing him. I’m seeing a woman.”
“Come on, you’ve got to know the story,” Dom pressed.
I did. And I didn’t want to think about it. Because if I thought about it, it would make way too much sense. Too much sense if Mordred went around and had a couple of bastard children of his own that none of the storytellers knew about. But Mab could find them, if she really wanted to.
Jasika fixed me with a level stare and shifted to face me fully. “Mordred’s mother was Arthur’s half-sister. The witch Morgan le Fay. Or Morgause. A Mor-sister, anyway. But if it was Morgan, well, you don’t get a name like ‘le Fay’ if you don’t deal with the Fae.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Right. Well. I’d asked for it. I wished Mum was here. I wished I could just walk down the hall and ask her if all of this was true because it sounded absurd.
“Bryn, if that’s true, you have the potential to have incredible power,” Jasika said softly. “Think about it. The firstborn, that’s always a big deal especially in the really old traditions—”
“I’ll look into it, okay?” I ran my fingers through my hair. If my ancestor was Morgan le Fay, then she was one of the most famous witches in mythology. How was I going to get us out of a bargain struck by someone as powerful as that? I took a big gulp of my drink, gagged a little on the aftertaste, and shook my head. “Thanks, Dom. Let’s just … let’s just have a normal night. I’ll deal with all of that in the morning.”
Dom and Jasika exchanged a glance. We relocated the laptop to the floor and started the next episode, all the while Jasika explained to Dom under her breath what he’d missed in the first two. I kept sipping at the soda and vodka, watching the actors wander on and off the screen as the sting on my palm faded slowly away.
Eventually, the subtitles went fuzzy. I glanced over at Jasika and Dom, both perfectly content as they munched on popcorn and pretzels, their eyes glued to the drama unfolding on the little screen. At some point, Marshmallow had crawled out of a shadow and into Dom’s lap, her ears perked as she watched the screen, too. The room smelled like strawberries and popcorn and jasmine, and everything was … absolutely perfect. As perfect as it had ever been or would ever be. And it was the sort of thing that filled me up with that warm, fuzzy feeling a person could spend their whole life chasing. Which was probably why I had the guts to close my eyes and just rest my head on Jasika’s shoulder.
The dark fog of sleep began to form at the edge of my mind. Without meaning to, I slid into that gray place between sleeping and waking, where I could still hear the hum of the show even as I felt myself slipping deeper into sleep.
Into her realm.
And that was all it took for me to kick myself back out of it. I started with a gasp, and the world jerked into focus like a lens being flipped on a projector. Jasika’s arm wound around me, holding me firm. I was safe there. Just for a little while I could let myself be safe.
I sighed, relaxing against her again, when Dom spoke up. “Hey, are you and Bryn…”
Jasika’s arm tightened around my middle. “We’re trying it out.”
“So … are you lesbians?”
I couldn’t help the loud snort that slipped out. Muzzily, I pushed myself up and stared at him. He looked a little embarrassed to have asked. Sweet lamb.
“Not all girls who like girls are lesbians,” I pointed out. “I mean … I like guys, too. At least, I have no problem being attracted to them. I just haven’t dated any.”
Dom arched a brow. “So you’re bi.”
“Last I checked.” I gave him a little smirk and sipped my strawberry vodka. “Or maybe pan? I dunno. Depends on who you talk to, I guess.”
“Is there a thing as Fae-sexual?” Dom asked.
“Oh, shut up!” I leaned against the bed and gave him a shove with my foot.
Dom grinned and turned to Jasika. “So where do you land here, hm?”
“I’m still figuring it out.” Jasika raised her glass in a mock toast. “But hey, here’s t
o having this conversation on hallowed ground.”
“Some old nun’s rolling in her grave. Probably been doing it since Bryn moved in.” He waggled his brows at me.
I grabbed a piece of popcorn and turned, pegging Dom with it. “Okay, what about you?”
“What about me what?”
“Come on,” Jasika said, nudging him. “We both basically came out to you in, like, the space of two minutes. Your turn. And remember, we’re in a church, so no lying.”
“Adjacent to a church.” Dom knocked back the last of his drink. “And you’ve probably never heard of it.”
“Should I just call out hetero and kill the anticipation?” Jasika laughed.
“You could.” Dom grinned. “But you wouldn’t exactly be right. I mean, I like the ladies, sure, but I’m ace.”
Jasika’s brows furrowed. I tried to wrack my brain for what the hell that was. Somehow, I doubted he meant he was an ace fighter pilot. I’d heard the phrase somewhere before. “Ace as in…”
“Asexual.” Dom prepared himself another drink, his eyes focused entirely on his cup. He moved a little too fluidly. Probably a good idea to cut him off soon. “I just don’t really get attracted to anyone. Not like that, anyway.”
“Wait, like … like anyone?” Jasika stammered. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure, cause Lord knows I’ve tried.” Dom shrugged and leaned against the wall, sipping from his cup.
“But you flirted with me,” I pointed out.
“I flirt with everyone.” Dom winked and shrugged.
“Are you sure? I mean, have you tried with, um … anyone?” Jasika asked.
Dom looked like he might bust into giggles. “Oh yeah. And I’m willing to bet I’m the only non-virgin in this room.” He glanced between us, and it felt as though he was waiting for one of us to challenge that. Of course, we didn’t. He nodded. “Thought so.”
“Wait … why have sex, then, if you weren’t even attracted to your partner?”
Dom took a deep breath, swirling the pink drink in his cup thoughtfully. “I dunno. Why do you eat a breakfast taco when you’re not really hungry? It’s still good. You still like it. Even if you weren’t craving it. Wow,” Dom laughed. “Definitely not the conversation I was expecting to have tonight. Guess we’re lucky nobody walked in on us right then.”
“So sex is like a taco to you.” Jasika smirked at him.
“I never pretended to be good at metaphors. Why do you think I have a B in English?” Dom took one last swig of his drink and plopped the cup lip-down on the floor. “Anyway, if everything goes to hell, at least I can say I didn’t die a virgin.”
Well, that was a real mood killer. Nothing like thinking about our impending deaths to suck the fun out of a party. So if we died, what could I say about myself? I did a good job keeping the boys fed? I could knit? Apparently I was descended from a king and a witch who were related, so … gross. Not exactly something for the tombstone.
I glanced at the screen and sighed. “Is it just me, or does it feel like the mood for Korean TV has passed?”
“Well, since we’re all here…” Jasika pulled her knees up to her chest. “I guess we could always talk about Halloween. The bendith said Samhain. Same night, this year. So that confirms it, right?”
Samhain. Right. I cleared my throat. “There’s more than that, though. The water wives are gone. They retreated to protect themselves.”
Dom and Jasika sat silently for a long moment, each of them staring down at the floor.
“This is my fault.” Jasika scrubbed a hand over her face.
“No.” I clenched my jaw. “She’s got to do her own thing and we’ve got to respect that.”
“But with Samhain so close—” Dom began.
“If she thought they could really help, she’d have stayed.”
Unease settled like smog around us. Gwen had taught us all these spells, all these ways to fight back. But now she wasn’t here to fight with us.
“Well, obviously we need to figure out where the Unseelie plan to attack,” Jasika muttered, one hand reaching out to me. I breathed a deep sigh and took it. Hell of a way to end an evening. “And then figure out how to keep everyone in there safe. Just in case. Bryn, maybe you should look into … you know. The witch stuff.”
“Even if it turns out to be true, it’s not like I can suddenly become some master spell-caster overnight,” I said. “Look, my specialty is just knowing what to throw at them to make them go away.”
“Maybe we can get some of the local wild fairies to help,” Dom suggested. “I mean, this is their home, too. A lot of them won’t be cool with the Unseelie.”
“You can try.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’d rather not count on the cavalry showing up here.”
“Then I guess we should coordinate our costumes now,” Dom said. “I’m calling one of those giant cards. Ace of spades.”
I forced myself to smile, but it felt like more of a grimace. Time to say a eulogy for that warm, cozy feeling. We wouldn’t be getting that again until everything was over.
Twenty-Six
It took longer than it should have to settle down that night. Somehow, in spite of Mab and the Unseelies, it was Gwen keeping me up. That and the happy butterflies-on-acid feeling I got in my gut when Jasika smiled at me. It felt wrong, being excited about something like that right now. Especially when it hurt someone else.
Of course, maybe it was the lingering vodka spinning around in my head that kept me up.
After I’d showered and had my helping of the night’s casserole (some ungodly combination of tuna, chipotle, and spaghetti), I sat in the room, my nightgown pulled up to my shoulders, while Marshmallow smeared Jasika’s goopy poultice on my back. It hardly even stung anymore.
“Missy’s going to have an awful scar,” the shadeling muttered.
“Guess that’s no more string bikinis for me.” I checked my phone, confirmed no new messages, and drummed my fingers against the stiff mattress. Marshmallow set the now-empty Tupperware on the bed and expertly bandaged my back again. She was becoming quite the little nurse.
As I rolled my nightgown back down, my mind wandered to Samhain. It was so close, but we didn’t know Mab’s plan. We didn’t know how to stop her. There was too much that depended on us succeeding here. If we could stop her, the boys could feel safe. Gwen could come home. Maybe Dad would even get better.
My better judgment told me to leave it be, but I was rapidly running out of options. I hauled my backpack up onto the bed and pulled out Mum’s book.
“You shouldn’t do this,” Marshmallow insisted, scuttling back and forth across the floor.
I flexed my fingers and grabbed my nail, drawing an invisible circle around myself in the air. After all the group spells, it felt strange to draw a circle alone. I probably needed Jasika or Gwen’s skill to guide me, but at the moment, I was alone. And whatever happened, I didn’t want Fae magic getting out of this room.
“I know who she is now, Marsh, and I know what she can do. I can protect myself.”
“That’s fighting her in her territory!” the shadeling insisted. “That’s what she likes. She likes to put people where it’s easy for her to win.”
“As it is, I think she may win anyway. And my friends…” My heart tightened. “I’ve got more people to protect now.”
“But we shadelings know her. We fear her. Better to stay safe. Stay hidden!”
“That hasn’t worked!” I took a deep breath and lowered my voice. “Samhain is almost here and look how close she was able to get! Our home is gone. The water wives are in hiding.”
Marshmallow shifted from foot to foot, tugging at her ear.
I turned back to the book, Mum’s words ringing in my ears. Gwella. Gwybodaeth. Freuddwyth. I wanted so badly to cling to the threadbare hope that it had been Mum reaching out to me. My hands shook as I turned the pages.
Dreaming. Healing. Those had led to stumbling around in her territory and a life saved. Now i
t was time for knowledge. And if I ran into Mab again, well, I was ready.
I paused at the page for Gwybodaeth. Knowledge. My heart fluttered in my chest. Marshmallow scrambled onto the bed next to me, taking my sleeve.
“Missy. If you see the dark queen, you mustn’t let yourself fall into her traps,” the shadeling warned. “It’s the same rules as for the Faelands. Eat nothing. Drink nothing. And if they invite you to dance, you must run away. She tricked you once before.”
I rested my hand on the shadeling’s back.
“It’ll be fine. I promise.” I gave her a tight smile. “And I’ll feel better knowing you’re looking out for me. If it looks like I’m in trouble, wake me up.”
Marshmallow nodded and took a few small steps back, wringing her long fingers. I took a deep breath and leaned forward, staring down at the pages. The words came more easily this time. I almost didn’t even have to think or focus. It felt like they were just using me, blurting out entirely on their own …
And then I wasn’t in my room anymore.
* * *
These weren’t the Welsh woods. They had a distinctly American smell about them. Different trees. Different plants.
“Bryn.” An unfamiliar voice floated on the air.
I turned, leaves crunching under my feet. Dove-gray silk floated between the trees as a willowy form swam into view, her dark hair dancing behind her. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Gwen said I shouldn’t trust you,” I announced, clenching my fists. “But it’s time we talk.”
The figure raised one arm, her pale fingers stretching out between the dark trees. “You will lose,” she said, but her words came like a distant shout. I started back, heart in my throat.
“I can’t. I have people to protect. Tell me now. Are you Morgan le Fay? Or Morgause? Did you promise our family to Mab?”
Her lips moved, but the words seemed to come from the faint hiss of the breeze.
“I am Morgana, child, called Morgan. And I hate that trickster woman as much as anyone. I did not know what I’d done until it was too late. I wanted a throne for my children. Not chains.”
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