by Hal Emerson
I woke once in the Weaving Room of the Caelyr. I was somewhere far to the side, and could just barely see the giant loom. The room was different – the walls were coated in layer after layer of thick web, and hundreds of bodies hung there in silk cocoons.
There were voices talking above me. My eyes wouldn’t turn to look at them – they seemed frozen, staring straight ahead.
“Traces of the iron are bound to her – she cannot remain here. The Fae side of her has to be submerged if she has any chance at recovery.”
“What will that do to her?”
“She’ll become mostly human.”
“Mostly?”
“Yes – after seeing what she’s capable of, it’s impossible to say how much will be lost in the transition, but I suspect very highly the madness will remain in part. How powerful it will be … that I cannot say.”
“If it remains then there is hope.”
“Yes – where there is a spark there can be a flame.”
“But there’s a chance it will die?”
“More than a chance – it is likely she will remember nothing, and if she goes too long without touching the madness, it will be extinguished forever.”
“Then what can we do?”
“Nothing, save get her out. The sooner we do, the better her chances.”
I came to more consciousness and found I couldn’t move. I was wrapped head to toe in silk. I tried to push against it and it gave a very small amount, but otherwise held firm.
“Bring Arandil,” said the voice I recognized. “She’s awake.”
The owner of the voice knelt next to me, and I realized it was Robin.
He was completely changed. I cannot fully express to you how different he was because his physical features were unaltered, but it was clear that he was an entirely different person. He still carried that wink of mischief in his eye, but it was no longer tempered with anger and hate – that part had gone out of him when the compulsions had been removed. He was no longer torn between two worlds, no longer forced to obey anyone. Despite all his protestations that he was not a changeling, he had gone through a changing as surely as I had.
“Hello,” I said, not knowing what else was possible to say after all we’d been through together.
“Hello,” he replied, looking me over with pain and concern. I tried to grimace, but the motion pulled at my face and I found I couldn’t move half of it. I tried to blink and realized the reason my vision was so poor was that one of my eyes was swollen shut and bandaged – the silk wrapping covered the whole right side of my head.
“Don’t try to move,” he said sternly. “You’re wrapped pretty tight, but the Caelyr are still acting like you’re made of porcelain, which is never a good sign.”
I swallowed, trying to work moisture into my mouth, and tried to force my thoughts into a cohesive whole. I blinked once, hard, and realized who was actually with me and what that really meant.
“You’re … still here?”
His face tightened, and I saw all of what had happened go rushing back through his mind. It was fascinating, in my drugged and dying state, to realize that this man who been so much a puzzle was now so transparent.
“Oberon told the truth,” I said, before he could speak. I wasn’t thinking clearly about what to say; I was simply speaking, putting forward the information that seemed important. “He told you the truth.”
Robin looked away for a brief second, just a quick flick of his eyes down to my neck and back. He made no motion of agreement, but his non-denial was all I needed.
“What about … her?” I shivered violently in my wrappings when I thought of Titania, and felt like a rain of hail was pelting the skin over my spine. I gasped and cried out – and then the sensation was gone, but I was fading again.
“By the blood,” Robin hissed. “Ionmar – find out where they went! We need Arandil now!”
I heard movement, the scrape of clawed feet on the hard Bower floor, and then I was alone in a strange half-wood half-web room with Robin, who was looking back over his shoulder and cursing under his breath.
“Robin,” I said, trying to draw him back to me, needing to know what had happened. My mind felt numb around the edges, but I pushed forward, tripping over my tongue. “R-r-robin.”
He wouldn’t turn around.
“Puck!”
The name came unbidden, but as soon as it left my mouth his head jerked around to me. I couldn’t see his expression from where he was standing, but I felt a tension enter the room that hadn’t been there before.
“Puck,” I repeated. “Puck – come back. You need … you have to …”
My vision went dark, but then I felt a hand on my shoulder, radiating warmth, and I opened my eye again to see him.
“Tell me what happened after … ?”
“You nearly killed her,” he said softly. “The explosion wasn’t nearly as intense as the one the night you … chased that other nestling. The moonstone you used was dying, there was barely any fire left in it. But there was enough. Something about the way you were holding the dagger made the stone explode downward. It blew both you and the Queen into the air and sent you flying. Ai’Ilyn caught you – she said she ran for you after you confronted … us … at the entrance to the Bower, but she wasn’t fast enough to do anything but catch you.”
Ai’Ilyn had saved my life. Again.
“The Queen was in agony,” he said, grimacing.
“Your mother,” I said quietly.
He shot me a look as if trying to determine whether or not I was mocking him, but softened when he caught my eye.
“The Queen,” he repeated firmly. “The dagger exploded into a number of shards, and at least a dozen of them struck her. Iron is poison to the Fae – you know that – but there’s a window in which the poison can be drawn out and neutralized. As soon as she was down, the sunlight disappeared from the sky and the Bower night returned, pushing back the sky. The Elves stood fast, but the lesser Fae, the Halflings and the others, even the Dragons, fled immediately. Oberon stood up and called for the battle to stop … I’ve never seen him like that. He was glowing, like the moon was inside of him, and none of the Sunlight Fae could stand before him – he gestured in their direction and they were sent flying backwards. When Gwyn joined him, able to fight in earnest once the sunlight was gone, there was no stopping the rout. The Elves managed to pick up the Queen and take her – and Oberon told us not to follow. They made it to the forest and that’s all I know. Ai’Ilyn called the Caelyr while we were fighting, and I … I don’t know why I’m here to see you, but I am. I … owe you.”
He fell silent. I found myself trying to shake my head to tell him he didn’t owe me anything, but of course I was unable. I tried to remember why I was tied up like this, but I couldn’t – the reason was stuck somewhere in my head and wouldn’t come out.
I heard the scuttling sound of clawed feet scratching the wood.
“Finally!” Robin said, standing and turning to the Caelyr. He gestured toward me as if to hurry them along. As if reminded by their presence, my body began to convulse once more, shaking me inside the confines of the Caelyr-silk wrapping. My neck spasmed, pulling my head up and then slamming it back down into the solid wood of whatever I had been laid on.
“By the blood, bite her!”
I felt hands on both arms, and one pair cupping my head. I opened my eye and saw through a red haze the kind face of Ionmar, watching me with fear. Her head descended, her lips loving kissed my neck, and then her sharp teeth bit into my skin. I gasped at the pain, but then the numbing came and I couldn’t feel it anymore. Two more spots of pain – in the crook of both elbows – and then numbness covered my whole body, and I was floating up and away.
“Wait,” I said as the darkness nudged me toward the door of unconsciousness. “Wait … Puck –”
“What?”
I looked up into his golden eyes, forcing my own to focus though the muscles that controlled them had gone numb. His eyes were the sa
me shape as Oberon’s – his chin was Titania’s. How had I never seen it? I saw his mouth, the way it turned down just at the end in a frown, and realized why it had always felt so familiar.
“I’m glad you stayed,” I said. “You belong here. Like me.”
His eyes widened, and then I passed into the darkness.