Hush, the woods are darker still

by L. V Russell

  He pulled a knife from his belt, and, without a word, severed the binds holding Nefina, catching her as she fell into his arms. So very gently, he wrapped her in his cloak, and for a moment, she was lifeless. He sunk to the floor with her in his arms, murmuring words with his head buried in her hair. Then she was clinging to him, her sobs drowning out anything else as she fell apart in his embrace.

  I blinked my tears away and turned back to Luthien. “Where is Oonagh?”

  She said nothing.

  “Where is…”

  “She was taken to the cellars,” someone called from the cages.

  I looked to Fell, who stood back, face pale beneath the blood caked across it. “Please, go find my friend.”

  He hesitated, and for a moment I thought he would refuse me.

  “Please.”

  He gave a quick nod, eyes utterly black, and walked away.

  “You lose,” I breathed to Luthien. “These fey are mine.”

  I dragged her back up, baring her throat as I forced her to stand, forcing her to look at each one of the captive fey. Within the cages, the faeries hissed and clawed at their bars, desperate to get out so they could tear her to pieces. Teeth glistened, and blood lust seeped heavy in the air.

  “Will you follow me?” I called out, closing my eyes at the unified answer. I could sense every one of them as they accepted me, feel each heartbeat, taste the uniqueness of their Glamour.

  “All mine,” I hissed, tossing Luthien to the ground while the storm around me, newly awoken, growled. I felt her heartbeat too. It was quick, frightened, defeated. I pressed against it, and she gasped. I smiled.

  Pressing harder, I watched her squirm. I wanted to break her heart, I wanted to crush it, so I wrapped my Glamour around it and stopped it beating. I could have killed her with barely a thought.

  “Teya,” she gasped, her eyes wide, the beautiful chocolate dulling as I squeezed harder. “Don’t…”

  “Don’t what?” I snarled, seeing nothing but a yawning black. It would be easy to tumble into, wonderful. “You are misery, Luthien.”

  Luthien would not have granted me mercy. She would have pulled out my heart just as she pulled out Cole’s. She would have crushed Laphaniel’s windpipe without blinking and sent the trapped fey to their deaths. Luthien was cold and cruel, and I truly believed she deserved to die.

  But I wasn’t cruel.

  With the storm calming around me, I hesitated. The feel of her heart sickened me. I had never taken a life, I didn’t want to feel someone’s heart slow and stop in my hands, no matter how they deserved it. I would never be able to wash that away.

  “Exile,” I snarled the word, and it echoed around the room as if I had shouted. As did the cries of outrage. “I grant you exile, Luthien, not death.”

  “Where do you expect me to go?”

  “I don’t care,” I said each word slowly, and they hissed past my teeth. I barely recognised my voice. “Go rot somewhere.”

  Drawing upon the memory of the Unseelie King’s shadow dogs, I made my own out of mist and rain. They were barely corporal, just the faint idea of hounds, but I was sure their teeth would still be sharp. With a click of my fingers, they snarled, lunging forwards for Luthien.

  She scrambled to her feet, ripped gown billowing behind her as she tore from the room, and my hounds gave chase.

  The fey waiting within the gilded cages watched in silence, unmoved, unimpressed. Leaving me to wonder if I had just made my first mistake.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  We buried the dead under frigid earth, as far away from Luthien’s mansion as we could carry them. Flowers bloomed over the mounds, forcing their way up past the snow to flock over the gravesites, covering the ground with a bloom of colour and hope.

  The Unseelie took their own further away. Cole, Oliver, and Ferdia were each placed upon pyres, two black feathers upon their breasts, and set alight. The flames reached so high they seemed to lick the heavy clouds above us.

  There would be no drinking, no funerals lasting for days for the knights who had fallen. Faolan had given me a solemn nod from my place away from the rising smoke. Fell wouldn’t turn, his head bowed low beside his twin’s pyre. Out of the six knights who had chosen to help me, only two would be returning home.

  A knot twisted in my stomach, grief, and guilt taking root deep inside. I wanted to say something, anything. But there were no words to give, nothing I could do to give any sort of comfort, not when so many of their friends had perished on Seelie soil, for a Seelie Queen.

  They left before the embers had died down, silent and cold as shadows. Any bond that had begun to build between us vanished with the ashes eddying into the wind.

  The surviving fey, my fey, stood uncertain and lost, something deep within them broken. They gathered around me, too thin and dirty, all malice stripped from their lovely faces as they waited for me to do something. They looked to Laphaniel standing beside me, expectant. I was not a fool to believe they would ever follow me without him by my side.

  I was exhausted.

  Every part of me ached and burned, but I could still feel my Glamour at my hands, sparking in response to the faeries around me. I could taste their fear, their hunger, and beneath all that…a spark of hope. Just an ember at that moment, but a spark at least.

  Laphaniel stared out at the Court of Seelie, the streaks of crimson on his face, barely hiding the livid bruises on his cheek, around his neck. He leant forwards and pressed his lips softly to mine before dropping to his knees at my feet.

  “Long live the Queen.”

  Laphaniel’s words echoed through the fey, repeated with a fervour that betrayed their worn and weary faces. All knelt before me.

  Oonagh bowed her head, tears streaming through the filth on her face. She had been carried from the cellars by Fell, the fingers in each hand broken. The silver-haired faerie had barely whimpered while Laphaniel reset them, refusing outright to be coddled.

  Nefina knelt beside her, not meeting my gaze and still wearing her brother’s cloak. Others I recognised too, ones that had once sneered and mocked and threatened me. Others peered through matted hair, tentative smiles upon their faces.

  I caught the bronze eyes of Gabriel, the golden-haired fey who had danced with me at the New Moon ball so many months ago. The smirk was gone, the glint in his gaze less wicked, but he winked at me, and I couldn’t help the smile that bloomed at my mouth.

  Laphaniel took my outstretched hand and stood, and I wrapped my arms around him, resting my head on his chest.

  My words were only for him. “We made it.”

  I felt him swallow, his hand tightening. “We did.”

  The days flowed after that with surprising swiftness, with so much to rebuild and organise and attempt to set right. The abandoned Seelie Castle was the first on the list.

  Thousands of tiny elves descended upon the sprawling stone, transforming it into something of beauty and light. They worked endlessly, forest green skin slicked with sweat despite the winter’s chill. They spoke little, each baring jagged little teeth if anyone so much as stepped into the shadow of the castle.

  We camped nearby in splendid tents of gold and red, all of us together watching the home that had been denied to the Seelie for so very long, be brought back to life.

  Their excitement buzzed through me, their longing for home so strong that I found myself weeping with them. They reached for my hands when they passed by, lithe and graceful beings, holding onto me as their strength began to renew, and I embraced them back, slowly feeling like I was where I belonged. Not a word was spoken about Luthien’s exile. I heard no discontent at the decision I had made, but I knew it lingered there, beneath the relief.

  “Do you think I should have killed her?” I asked Laphaniel, finally voicing the question that had kept me awake at night. We stood at the threshold of the castle, the moon high above us, the elves waiting with strange little smiles to show us what they had created.

  Laphaniel ti
lted his head, looking up and up and up at the towers twisting into the skies, at the flags that beat proudly in the wind. “Only you can decide that, Teya.”

  Not an answer.

  “Would you have?” I pressed.

  “I don’t think I would have shown her the mercy you did,” he answered after a pause. “But you did show mercy, and I love you all the more for it. But I can’t tell you if it was the right thing to do or not. Time will tell, and we’ll deal with it together.”

  “The Seelie wanted blood.”

  He shrugged, “Faeries always want blood.”

  The elves insisted they show the two of us in first, chittering and snarling at anyone else who wanted to come and see. They took my hand, sharp claws wrapping around my finger to lead me through the maze of glittering white corridors. They had banished the shadows and the darkness completely, bathing everything in a wondrous light, covering every surface with plush rugs or pillowing drapes, in furs and cushions. It no longer felt like a nightmare.

  We both halted at a patch of polished wall, the seams blended so perfectly, it was almost impossible to tell anything ever lingered behind. It had been our only request.

  I would never unsee the blood spreading out from Laphaniel, or the sound of his last heartbeat, the knife dripping red in my sister’s hand. Laphaniel still re-lived it, bore the scars both seen and unseen. We had asked for the tower where the curse had been broken to be destroyed.

  The elves led us up wide and open staircases, greenery already snaking up the banisters, blooming with little silver buds that caught the moonlight.

  The hallway we walked down had been beautifully restored. Jewelled lanterns hung from the ceiling, holding a dozen candles in each, and the white marble floors were adorned with thick red and gold rugs that were the softest things my feet had ever touched. Full-length windows looked out onto the grounds, dressed only in white gossamer so the light always shone through.

  It held none of the darkness it once did.

  Stepping past one of the elves, I squeezed Laphaniel’s hand before I walked into our rooms. Underfoot was polished marble, adorned with more sumptuous rugs so I could scarcely see the gleaming stone beneath. There were sofas and armchairs and plump floor cushions, all in velvets and silks. An enormous fire crackled over by one wall, filling the spacious room with warmth and light.

  I wandered through the double doors to the side, pushing them open to reveal our bedchamber, my heart thudding. Laphaniel held my hand tighter, and it shook within his.

  Home. We had finally found our way home.

  The four-poster bed dominated the space, and as I climbed on top of it and sat back, I could look out of the window and see six waterfalls cascade into a vast lake. Laphaniel climbed in next to me, waiting for me to say something.

  Tears ran down my cheeks instead, and he reached across to brush them away with his thumb, at a loss for words himself.

  The room was beautiful, simplistic and elegant. As well as the giant bed, there was a pretty dressing table, a writing desk with a gilded key, two more fat armchairs, and an overflowing bookcase. I had no idea where the elves had found so many books.

  Sliding off the bed, I knelt before one of the elves, taking its long green hands in my own. “Thank you.”

  The green of its face darkened, the others chittered beside it, teeth showing as they grinned.

  “For all of this,” I said. “Thank you.”

  They left in a bubble of excited noises, clapping each other on the back as they vanished into puffs of greenish smoke. I wanted to offer them payment but refrained after Laphaniel explained it would insult them greatly.

  “What next?” I said, re-joining Laphaniel on the bed. He had his eyes closed, one hand tucked behind his head.

  “Everything,” he replied, not moving. “But everything else can wait for a moment.”

  I pressed a soft kiss to the dip of his neck. “Even this?”

  He made a wonderful sound at the back of his throat, and pulled me closer, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that stole all other thoughts away.

  His quick fingers untied the stays of my dress, a flowing gown of heavy gold velvet, complete with fur tipped sleeves and collar. It wasn’t an easy dress to get into. The fabric tore beneath his hands, but he stopped when they brushed over the thick leggings I wore underneath.

  “It’s freezing outside,” I began, snorting at the look on his face. “Do you expect me to wear gauzy silk in this weather?”

  Laphaniel lifted the hem of one leg, shaking his head at the thick grey socks I wore. “Those are mine.”

  I grinned. “Ours.”

  His teeth nipped my lower lip. “I liked it when you wore my shirts, and they would graze just here.” His hand trailed over the top of my knee, moving higher. “And you would sleep in them, so they smelled like you. Everything did.”

  “Do you think I could wear just your shirts as Queen?” My breath caught as Laphaniel moved his mouth across to my ear, then down and down, to the soft skin just below my collar. “And nothing else, or do you think that would cause a scandal?”

  “I think,” Laphaniel began, a huskiness to his voice, “that you have far too many damned layers on right now.”

  “And she’d better keep them on,” a new voice said from our doorway. “I am sorry to disturb you…”

  Laphaniel dropped his hand with a soft groan. “What do you want, Oonagh?”

  Musical laughter rang around the room, and the bed dipped further as another body joined us. “You two have a Court of eager fey at your command. You have much more to do before you…” Oonagh paused with a wicked grin. “Retire for the night.”

  I sat up, adjusting my gown, calling back the glittering Glamour that had begun to snake its way around Laphaniel, who made no attempt to reorder the buttons on his clothing.

  “Is there a rule forbidding anyone entering the royal bedchamber unannounced,” I asked, “let alone their actual bed?”

  “Perhaps you should make one?” the willowy faerie sang.

  “Oh, I think I will.”

  Oonagh opened her arms to me, and I fell into her embrace. She still felt too thin in my arms, but the bruises had gone, the cuts healed, and the light in her strange eyes was finally back. She pulled away, eyes glistening, and without warning, threw herself onto Laphaniel and squeezed him tight. He embraced her for a moment before dumping her onto the bed beside him.

  “I know you are both exhausted,” Oonagh said. “But the Seelie have been without proper rule for so long, no one knows what they’re supposed to do. Laphaniel, you need to organise your knights, name a captain, figure out the Queen’s guards.” She turned to me. “You, my beautiful girl, need to organise your council, start discussing new laws, a new order of things. I have a few girls for you to interview for your maid…”

  “I don’t need a maid.”

  Oonagh scoffed. “And who will tie your corsets, Teya, when your husband is otherwise engaged?”

  “Perhaps I won’t wear a corset. I am the Queen, so I can damn well wear what I want.”

  Oonagh stood, lifting a slender pale eyebrow, her glare icy. I knew, without doubt, she would be standing as my chief council, just as I knew I would likely be wearing a corset for the rest of my life.

  “I’ll interview them later.”

  Oonagh curtsied, the fluid movement sweeping her silvery gown across the floor like water. There was a smile to her lips, warmth against her mouth, and I returned it in kind, forever grateful to her.

  “Your Majesties.” Oonagh curtsied again, her parting words sounding strange and utterly unbelievable. We were the Queen and King of the Seelie Court, our castle rebuilt, our fey waiting for us.

  “Will it always be so busy?” I asked, swinging my legs off the bed, the reality of everything not quite sinking in.

  “You’ll always have more to do than you have time for, Teya, but it will get easier.” He slipped from the bed, outstretching a hand to me. “and I will always be right b
eside you.”

  I placed my hand to his chest, right over his heart, my fingers splayed to catch every thump, every song beat. “We’ll get it back.” He knew what I meant. “Even if I have to travel the ends of the world, I will get it back for you, I’ll bargain...”

  “No.” The word was quick, final. “No more bargaining, promise me.”

  “I will pay any price, Laphaniel.”

  “But I don’t want you to,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to get something back only to lose something worse.”

  “The wraiths…” The word caught in my throat, the memory of them raw. The hunger, the emptiness, the utter void of anything good or whole. “I can’t make that promise to you. I’m sorry but I won’t.”

  “Teya…”

  “Don’t argue with me.”

  He bristled, eyes flashing. “Is that a command?”

  I didn’t want to fight, not on our first night, but it was not something I was willing to back down over. “Yes, it is.”

  Hurt flickered over his face, and he opened his mouth to bite back, but just shook his head instead. With a mocking bow, he turned on his heel and walked out.

  Fey filled the throne room, and they all wanted something from me.

  Laphaniel was absent, his throne beside mine empty while he sparred with knights in some courtyard away from me. He had chosen Gabriel as his captain, the golden-haired faerie I had once danced with so long ago in Luthien’s ballroom. Gabriel had healed slowly from the wounds Luthien had dealt him, his bones splintered in places. He still had little memory of his time spent in the dangling gold cages.

  Laphaniel had not hesitated in choosing him.

  The two thrones stood high upon a dais of glittering stone, both made from smooth wood that wound around each other, before splaying across the floor. Winter had stripped it bare, save the ivy snaking around it, but in spring, I had been promised, it would come alive with blossom.

  The throne room ceiling towered high above, the beams all green with winter foliage. Balls of curved wood hung low, each holding a bright blue flame that filled the entire room with wondrous light. Pillars rose from the floor, carved with deer and hares and towering oaks.