by E. A. Copen
Foxglove finally looked away from the corrupted fae gathering at the edge of their circle to study Finn. For as much as Finn liked to talk, he rarely spoke about himself and his past. Since he’d been apprehended trying to steal one of the Speaking Stones, Foxglove had just assumed he’d probably lived his whole life as a thief. Why not? Finn had never acted like anything other than a vulgar low life.
Yet if he had lived behind enchanted walls, he had to be more than that. The average fae couldn’t afford such a luxury. Strong enchantments were reserved for castles and important wealthy lords. Perhaps he’d lived in the palace as one of the servants. How would a servant know where Queen Oonagh was buried? Better yet, how would someone outside the highest echelons of royalty even know about the Speaking Stones? It wasn’t like they were common knowledge. Perhaps there was more to this Shadow Fae than immediately met the eye.
“We should set a watch,” Gwen said. “To make sure the torches stay lit. Shifts of two.”
Finn nodded. “Good idea. I volunteer for the first shift.”
“As do I,” Foxglove said.
Gwen raised an eyebrow. “You want guard duty with Finn?”
He shrugged.
She sighed and looked back and forth between Foxglove and Finn. “All right, but you two get along. I don’t want to hear any arguing or I’m coming back out here.” Gwen went back inside with Declan, leaving Foxglove and Finn alone with the corrupted fae.
They stood in silence a good distance from each other for a long time. Finn seemed focused on the blighted fae, an expression of worry plastered on his face. Worry, or perhaps something deeper.
After a half hour or so, Foxglove moved a little closer and cleared his throat, drawing an irritated glance from Finn. “So, who are you really?”
“I told you already. My name is Finn O’Leary.”
“No, not that.” Foxglove peered out into the darkness where the blighted fae seemed to be gathering in a circle. “That’s a name. Names can be changed, and yours clearly was when you went to Earth. Finn O’Leary is an Earth name. It doesn’t follow any of the standard naming practices in any of the courts.” He glanced over at Finn. “And even you wouldn’t be stupid enough to give your full, real name to a potential enemy that easily.”
Finn smirked. “Good for you. You’re smarter than you look, Foxglove. That’s not your real name either, is it?”
“No,” said Foxglove with a sigh. “I changed it when I left the High Court to join Summer. But we were talking about you. Tell me, Finn, how exactly did you come to know of the Speaking Stones and where the Royal Stone was located? And what position exactly did you occupy in the Shadow Court?”
Finn’s shoulders stiffened and he hesitated, his smile fading.
Got you, Foxglove thought. He’d been right all along. Finn had been in the castle when the blight came.
One of the blighted fae—the one that used to be the father, Foxglove thought—darted too close to the circle of light and hissed like water dripping into flame before floating away again.
Finn sank to the ground where he stretched out, leaning against a large rock. “If I told you I was a nobody, that’d be a lie. I was less than nobody before all this started. You ever hear of Schrodinger’s Cat?”
“Cat in a box exposed to poison is assumed both alive and dead until one or the other is proven. Or something like that.”
“Close enough,” Finn said with a shrug. “I was whatever the fae version of that would be. I couldn’t be killed for obvious reasons, but I couldn’t be acknowledged either. If I was sent away, the Shadow Queen would be robbing herself of my skills as a Spellweaver and empowering whomever she sent me to. Yet she couldn’t make it known that I existed and therefore couldn’t make use of my powers. The obvious solution was for her to lock me in a tower and enchant the walls and floor to hold no shadows.”
Foxglove shook his head. “I don’t understand. You couldn’t be acknowledged?”
“My existence is proof of Her Majesty’s infidelity,” Finn said, pressing his fingers to his chest. “The living, breathing reminder of why the alliance between Summer and Shadow shattered and led to the first war.”
Foxglove nearly choked on his next breath. “You’re the bastard in the tower?”
It was an old story, old enough the truthfulness of it had been called into question by scholars more than once. Long ago, Titania had offered a nephew to Queen Nyx as a husband. The stories and songs called him the most beautiful lad of Summer, so beautiful it made the ladies at court jealous. For all his beauty, Queen Nyx couldn’t love him and took another lover, her own Knight, and by him conceived a child.
But the child was supposed to be a monster. It was widely reported that the Knight had deceived his queen and the blood of some ancient evil pumped through his veins. Blood that never should’ve been mixed with the royal blood of Shadow. Finn didn’t look monstrous, and besides, the stories said nothing about a sister. It couldn’t be true.
“I prefer to just be called a bastard,” Finn said with another shrug. “Anyway, when Nyx died and Kellas took over, he sent me to fight, hoping I’d get killed. Once he died though, I went to Earth for a while. People wanted me to come back. I didn’t really want to, but...”
Foxglove turned away from the creatures darting back and forth in the darkness. “You’re the last living heir to the Shadow throne.”
Finn slapped his knees and pushed himself up to stand. “See, that’s exactly why I don’t tell anyone. Everyone wants me to be something else. It doesn’t matter who my parents were. I don’t want any stupid crown, and I sure as hell don’t want any stuffy titles. The same assholes who left me locked in a tower for years on end were the same ones who practically kidnapped me and begged me to be their king. It was almost a relief when the Shadow Palace became ground zero for the blight. While everyone was still trying to figure out what was happening, I managed to get away.”
“It was a relief?” Foxglove asked, incredulous, and took a step toward Finn. “You were right there, Finn! You had the power to stop this before it ever spread, and you ran away!” He clenched his fists and ground his teeth. It was the only thing keeping him from choking Finn unconscious.
“Of course I ran away! You would’ve run too if you had seen what I saw, heard what I heard.”
“Never. I have never fled a battle, and I certainly wouldn’t leave people in need to suffer when I could help.” Foxglove gestured to the figures of the corrupted fae. “Look at what your cowardice has bought you.”
Finn glanced out over the fields. For a moment, Foxglove thought he’d gotten through to him, but Finn’s expression hardened. “I don’t owe them anything. Why should I care about anyone in the Shadowlands? They turned their backs on me, would’ve let me rot and die if I could’ve.”
Foxglove grabbed Finn by his shirt. “You selfish bastard, can’t you think about anyone else for one second? You can save these people! You can save all of Faerie and it costs you nothing!”
“It costs me everything!” Finn pushed Foxglove away. “You should know that better than anyone. Look at your queen. When was the last time you saw her happy? When was the last time she was ever free to do what she wanted? To live for herself?”
“Queen Remy understands that her own wants and desires must be sacrificed for the greater good,” Foxglove shot back.
“If she has to give up everything she wants, is she really alive? What about passion? What about happiness? Doesn’t she deserve that too?” He put a hand to his chest. “Don’t I? Nobody can live their entire life for other people. It kills you inside, Foxglove. A servant can only serve if he’s free to walk away. Otherwise, it’s just slavery. Put a crown on a slave and he’s still a slave.”
“You have a responsibility!”
“I have a life! People I care about.”
“You mean Auryn?”
Finn jerked when Foxglove mentioned his sister.
“She’s not even your real sister, is she?” Foxglov
e pushed.
Finn stood up straighter, hands clenched into fists. “She’s the closest thing to family I’ve ever had, and I’m the only family she’s got. It doesn’t matter if we don’t share blood. She’s my sister in every way that matters. If you can’t understand that, then we have nothing more to talk about.” He turned his back to Foxglove and paced halfway around the building to keep watch.
Foxglove stared after him. How could Finn be so selfish? How many other families had suffered in the blight because he’d turned his back and run away?
I suppose it really doesn’t matter now. Foxglove rubbed his aching head. Can’t change the past. So long as he doesn’t run away a second time...
At least he’d gotten some good news out of Finn. He’d let slip that the Shadow palace was ground zero for the blight. If it had gotten started there, then perhaps that was where they needed to go to end it. And once the blight was lifted, Foxglove would have to tell Remy who Finn really was. Shadow would need a new ruler, and though Finn was selfish, the crown was his by right of blood.
Chapter Thirteen
The torches stayed lit all through Finn’s shift. He changed places with Declan just as the sky began to brighten from midnight blue to steel blue. Once inside, he curled up in a corner as far away from Foxglove as he could manage and fell asleep.
He dreamt of his days in the tower, his world little more than a series of brick-lined rooms. It hadn’t seemed like a prison then, but that was only because he didn’t know what he was missing. There was a world beyond his tower. Even as a child, he knew that. He just didn’t understand it.
After so many years, his memory of his mother’s face had faded. She existed in Finn’s dreams as a shapeless shadow. He would spend all day smearing paint over a canvas with his fingers and show it to her when she came to visit, but she would never smile. She would just pick him up, carry him to his bed and explain over and over again how he had to stay in his tower. The world outside wasn’t safe. There were people who would want to hurt him.
“But why? What did I do?” he asked.
Then the shadow of a smile would touch her lips and she’d brush some of his hair aside. “Nothing, and that’s the tragedy of it all, isn’t it? We can’t hide from who we are, no matter how much we wish we could.”
He looked at her, blinking sleepy eyes. “What am I supposed to be, mamma?”
She planted a kiss on his forehead, but Foxglove shook him awake before she could answer.
“It’s light,” Foxglove said. “Everyone else is saddled and ready to go.”
Finn inhaled deeply and wished he hadn’t. The farmhouse smelled like death. “I’m up.”
Foxglove nodded and stood.
“Hey, Foxglove? You didn’t tell anyone, did you? What we talked about last night, I mean.”
“Not yet,” said the knight, “but the truth will come out eventually, Finn. It would be better if it came from you and not me. I will tell the queen when we return if you don’t.” He left Finn to get ready.
As Finn secured his pack and finished readying the saddle, he reflected on his dream and tried to determine if it was more memory than a dream. He didn’t recall having that particular conversation with his mother. In fact, he didn’t recall having many conversations with her at all. She wasn’t usually that motherly. If anything, she’d always been distant, some nebulous person he’d never known well. How could he from his room atop the castle’s highest tower?
They rode out in lower spirits than before. The events of the night had worn all of them down. Finn couldn’t stop thinking about what Foxglove had said, that he’d run away when he could’ve saved everyone. Maybe Foxglove was right in principle, but Finn hadn’t known at the time how his powers worked, or that they could even affect the invading creatures. He’d stumbled out of the palace lost and confused just like everyone else, and like everyone else, he wandered until his feet bled and he passed out from thirst. At that moment, Finn had been sure the blight would overtake him and lost his will to go on.
It was dark when he woke to the sound of a baby crying. For a long time, he lay in that field, waiting for the baby to quiet, but she never did. Somehow, she only got louder. She’ll attract the Nightclaws, he remembered thinking.
Though his limbs protested, and his body ached, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered through the field to the edge of a forest where he thought the source of the crying might be. There, tucked in a hollowed-out tree trunk covered in black vines, he found the child. Gripped by some fear he couldn’t explain, Finn tore the vines away from the tree trunk and lifted the baby. She was a scrawny thing, smelly and loud. Surely her mother had to be around somewhere. Maybe she’d just gone to get help. Finn looked around, his frown deepening. There was no help. Wherever the mother had gone, she wasn’t coming back.
“Guess it’s just you and me, stinker,” Finn said, adjusting how he held the child. “If you promise to stop crying, you can hang out with me, at least until we get somewhere safe.”
So began his relationship with Auryn. He’d never found out what happened to her family, or who she was, but that farmer’s family could’ve easily been them. What would Auryn say if she knew the truth? That he could’ve saved her family and chose not to? She’d never look at him again.
Gwen’s horse let out a loud whinny, pulling Finn from his thoughts. He blinked and looked up, realizing he’d nearly crested another hill. Gwen, Foxglove, and Declan had already made it to the top, so he nudged his horse to climb faster.
“What’s the hold up?” Finn asked and looked down.
A large valley stretched out below them, the fields covered in black vines. Unlike the rest of Shadow, a village stood in the middle of the valley. A mote of fire burned around the town, casting orange shadows on the wooden walls. They had passed towns and villages on their journey before, but this one had something the others didn’t: people. Living, sentient, normal looking fae. They scurried back and forth along the town wall, tugging on ropes and moving barrels as if it the world around them hadn’t gone to shit.
Foxglove’s horse shifted nervously. “Is that what I think it is?”
“If you think it’s a town untouched by the blight, then yes, I think so,” Declan said. “At least, that’s what it looks like.”
Gwen shook her head. “Not untouched. Their fields are barren, and they probably can’t venture out, but it does look like they’ve found some way to stop it.”
Finn nudged his horse down the steep incline toward the valley floor.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” Gwen called after him.
He didn’t slow his horse down. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather spend tonight behind that wall than out in the open. I’m going to go see if we can get in.”
At the bottom of the incline, his horse settled into a faster pace. It was as if he were as eager as Finn to get behind the city walls. Maybe he was. Sleeping tied out in the open as the horses did the night before had to have been unnerving.
Finn rode within shouting distance, raised both hands and cupped them around his mouth. “Hello! Hello, friends!”
A dozen crossbows immediately shifted, pointed at him.
He tugged on the reins of his horse, pulling him to a stop and raising his hands in surrender. “Easy there. I don’t want any trouble, though I’d settle for a bed if you’ve got a spare one of those.”
“Who’re you?” shouted down one of the guards on the wall.
“We are emissaries from the Summer queen,” Gwen announced as her horse stopped next to his. “We’ve been sent on a quest to find the source of the blight and stop it from spreading. Go and tell your leader that we ask his humble hospitality for the night.”
The men on the wall jabbed each other and snickered before the man from before shouted down, “I’ll ask, but I don’t think he’ll be very keen to let you in, m’lady, you being from Summer and all.”
“Next thing you know, he’ll be telling you that your moth
er was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries,” Finn mused with a smile.
Gwen gave him a piercing stare.
“Oh, come on! You haven’t ever had a hot dog and you haven’t seen Monty Python and the Holy Grail? What kind of crazy place is this?”
“We’re not all from Summer,” Foxglove shouted and gestured to Finn.
The fae on the wall squinted down at them. “Who’s he then?”
It was Finn’s turn to stare at Foxglove. The last thing he wanted was for someone to out him, especially after all he’d gone through to make a normal life for Auryn. I’d better answer before he does.
The loud groan of the gate opening interrupted Finn’s thoughts and a single elderly woman wandered out, her head covered in a dark scarf.
“Who’s that?” shouted the man on the wall. “I didn’t authorize the gate opening!”
The woman approached the four on horseback, stopping directly in front of Finn and tugging back the scarf, revealing a head full of snowy white hair. Her gray eyes sparkled as she smiled up at them. “Prince Finnegan?”
Declan, Gwen, and Foxglove’s eyes snapped to Finn.
Finn flashed them a nervous smile. “She’s crazy. Never met her before in my life.”
“No, it is you,” insisted the old woman. “Pardon my not kneeling or curtseying, My Prince. The back and knees aren’t what they used to be. You don’t remember me? It’s Hadley. Hadley Poole? I worked in the kitchen. Sent you up an extra scrap of pie on occasion, I did. Didn’t see much of you, not with you being locked in that tower, but I’d know that handsome face anywhere, even after so many years.”