Heart of the Fae

Chapter One

I stood at the end of a long corridor—the path ahead did not pass stone walls with doors to bedrooms, as it would had have done were I in Gavin and Bonnie’s version of Blackmouth Castle—–but through crowds of fae creatures.

Instead of paintings, tartan carpet runner and old-fashioned lamps, this room had the feel of a great hall. Slender windows along the outer wall allowed beams of near-pearlescent sunlight to pour in, speckled not with motes of dust, but fairy lights and shimmers of something much smaller, swooping and congealing and breaking apart like tiny mystical flocks of swallows.

“Approach.”

The words echoed off the stone buttresses and silken flags. Queen Elphame was half reclined over the arm of a backless marble seat, wearing a flowing gown so bright it almost hurt to look at.

Feeling fae eyes on me, I took a steadying breath and released Fyfa’s hand.

“Speak plainly,” Fyfa whispered. “Be yourself.”

I couldn’t prevent a slight smirk from curling my upper lip. If I was supposed to be myself, then why had Fyfa dressed me in a gown of floating green silk? My hair was piled high on my head and festooned with enough blossoms to make my neck ache. Real ivy spiraled my arms from wrist to shoulder and curled across my collarbones and down my back. Broad leaves belted my waist and dripped from the belt with curling tendrils. My cheekbones and chin had been dusted with pearlescent powder and neroli oil warmed on my skin, filling my nose with its bright, green scent. The effect, once Fyfa had finished dolling me up, was enchanting, I had to admit. But now that I was standing here in Elphame’s court, I wished I was wearing jeans and a ponytail. The costume and hairstyle wasn’t making me feel at all like myself.

Fyfa’s hand rested on my lower back for a moment before she gave me a small push. My legs moved, bare feet on white warm stone, ivy tendrils brushed the floor as I walked. Time seemed to slow down as crowds of fae slipped by. Some stood and craned their necks to see who was next to make a request of the queen, other whispered behind long-nailed, elegant hands. Many sported gossamer wings, impossibly large eyes and hair creations that reminded me of wedding cakes and sculptures. Some sat around small tables playing games with live beetles and not paying much attention once they’d seen my outfit. Perhaps I wasn’t so impressive in Queen Elphame’s court with my ivy and neroli-blossomed hair after all.

Swallowing down my nerves, I told myself it didn’t matter what any of these fae thought, it only mattered that Queen Elphame offer her aid in stopping Daracha. Surely if the Queen of Elfland––as the history book had dubbed her—bent her will to halting the witch, this could all be over in a poof of fae magic that smelled of royalty.

As I approached the throne, Queen Elphame’s details came into focus. Light glared harshly off the curves of the smooth alabaster throne, finding no corners or square edges. She clearly favored white. The last time I had seen her, her hair was a white cloud on top of her head. This time, her locks were a shocking raven’s wing black and it was her body which was clad in white. A shimmering strapless gown clung to her long frame. White feathers draped over her shoulders, stretching down her arms and clinging to her skin so tightly they appeared to have grown from her own pores. Shimmery white makeup coated her eyelids and cheekbones and clung to her eyelashes. A teardrop of some sparkling white stone sat above and just to the right of her upper lip. And that hair, piles and piles of it, spirals of it lumped in an impossible updo of proportions that would put Nashville to shame. Long white fingernails glimmered with stark white gloss. She was breathtaking, not just in her beauty but with her presence. Looking at her made me forget to breathe.

The smell of green things, damp soil, flowers, and mulch filled the hall, with the added tang of smoke and soft fruity notes. This was the smell of fae magic, Fyfa had explained, which was strong here in the great hall where all kinds of species came together to mingle, see and be seen.

Stopping at the front edge of the crowd, I curtsied deeply the way Fyfa had instructed. I was to wait until I was invited to come any closer to the marble dais than this. I straightened but cast my eyes down.

“The Wise who tried to steal from me,” Queen Elphame murmured without moving or changing position. She looked supremely relaxed and uninterested. Though her eyes were half-hooded, they glittered sharply and I thought her cavalier display was artfully contrived to make me feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. It was working.

There were low tones of disapproval from the great hall at large, as fae talked and shared gossip quietly among themselves now that Elphame had identified me as a potential enemy. I hung my head further in a sign of what I hoped appeared to be true penitence. There was something dangerous and powerful about the queen, but there was also something alluring and even maternal. I didn’t get the feeling she was without compassion. Thinking of the night I’d tried to steal from her, I wondered what would have happened had Laec instructed me simply to ask.

“I would have said no.” Queen Elphame’s voice was gentle, sweet even.

My gaze darted to her face in surprise before I could stop myself. She could read my thoughts? An apology surged behind my teeth but I bit it back, remembering Fyfa’s instructions to wait until I was given permission to speak.

“My elixirs are not to be given to lost Wise from without. But when one of my own Wise daughters asks a favor…” Queen Elphame gave an elegant shrug, a movement I caught in my periphery.

Surprise jolted through me like a second lightning strike. Fyfa had asked for the elixir, she’d not stolen it, as I had thought. Queen Elphame had given it to her daughter to give to me, in the end. I wished Fyfa had told me Queen Elphame had shown mercy.

“My daughter was instructed to keep her mouth shut on that score,” Queen Elphame said. “And payment was made in the end, wasn’t it, Laec?”

I swallowed down another lump of shock. I hadn’t known Laec was here. I hadn’t seen him since he’d agreed to deliver Lachlan’s vehicle back to Blackmouth from the forest glen where I’d had to abandon it. The urge to look up and find the fae male was nearly overpowering. What expression would I find on his face?

“Majesty.” Laec’s voice came from behind me on the right, near the wall. He sounded almost bored, in true Laec form.

Emotions churned in my chest like a dust storm. Shame for how I’d assumed Laec had purposefully led me into danger. Gratitude that he’d helped me so frequently, most times without being asked. Confusion about the queen. Queen Elphame had taken Laec’s thumb as payment. It seemed a barbaric thing for a fairy queen purported to have healed humans in the past to do to one of her own people, even if the thumb grew back. Painfully aware that Elphame knew I was having critical thoughts about her yet unable to stop it, I felt the muscles in my jaw tighten. My fingers ached to curl into fists.

“Look at me,” Queen Elphame instructed.

I raised my eyes, and hoped the steely defiance I felt was not overt on my face. Defiance would get me nowhere, as Fyfa had warned me more than once.

Queen Elphame stood and the room gave a little gasp of delight as they admired her gown. The queen lifted her hands and rested them on her hips. Quite the show-woman, she was. “Why do you trouble my court again, little Wise?”

I lifted my chin as my pulse quickened. My palms felt clammy and I pressed them against my thighs. “Majesty, an old dark witch has resurrected to life without. She is a threat not only to my world, but to yours. If she achieves her ends, the veil between our worlds might be destroyed, and she desires your throne, above all.”

The last of my statement echoed through the hall and thunderous silence descended. Even the game-playing fae had paused.

Queen Elphame’s amethyst eyes homed in on mine, cool and calculating and glittering with judgement. At first there was no visible or audible reaction, from the queen or her subjects. But when Queen Elphame gave a light scoff of dry laughter, the room behind me filled with titters and soft chuckles.

I felt like I’d swallowed a stone. Queen Elphame, if she could read minds, knew perfectly well what I came to ask for, and she knew I wasn’t lying. So why was she laughing? The hairs on my forearms lifted and the temperature felt as though it had dropped a few degrees. I suppressed a shiver and the urge to cross my arms protectively.

“The veil cannot be destroyed,” Queen Elphame replied with another feminine scoff. “Certainly not by some human witch from without. And if she ever did happen to cross over, she’ll find I deal with such creatures in my own merciful and generous manner.” Her nails pressed into the fabric of her gown, making dimples. “By destroying her the moment she takes a breath of our air, rather than allowing my subjects to torture her.”

“Queen Elphame.” I took a breath and prayed for the anxiety roiling in my gut to subside. I hoped the news I was about to share would not backfire. Stavarjak might have a ‘kill the messenger’ culture, for all I knew. I was taking a risk but trusted that Fyfa would have advised me not to mention Gilbarta if it was a bad idea. “This witch—Daracha Goithra—is responsible for the death of one of your own daughters.”

Queen Elphame’s eyes narrowed when I called the witch by name and I realized that she recognized it.

Embolded, I went on. “Daracha manipulated the people of Dundee so that they would burn Gilbarta at the stake. The witch used your daughter’s ashes in a spell and absorbed Gilbarta’s powers, the powers of a Wise. With this power, Daracha is able to return from the dead as long as her body is buried in the earth, as is the custom of the Highlands, ensuring a kind of immortality. She is presently alive and intends to find two more Wise whose ashes she’ll also use. The ashes of three Wise will enable her to cross the veil. If she gains enough power to cross over, she’ll arrive here more powerful than she’s ever been and with devious intentions for you and your people.”

It occurred to me to flatter Queen Elphame, I had a feeling she’d respond positively to it. I could say that surely the queen’s mighty power could prevent such a horrible thing from happening, surely her goodness and mercy and blah, blah, blah. But not only was the idea of lip-service to her nauseating, she’d know it was contrived. I closed my mouth and waited, opting to let her react instead.

Queen Elphame considered me in the silence that followed my little speech. The great hall was calm as her citizens took their lead from her. I shoved down the resentment I felt toward the fae who were so weak in themselves they were afraid to let their own honest reactions out before seeing what the queen would say. It sickened me. I didn’t know if there was a personality ‘type’ that went along with being fae, but the ones in this room had done little to impress me. Fyfa and Laec gave me hope that fae could be honorable and compassionate and brave.

Queen Elphame sank slowly to her alabaster seat again, moving her gown to the side where it draped across the floor in perfect fetching drifts of fabric.

“Gilbarta’s death was regretful,” she replied calmly.

I blinked at her, reacting from the gut. “Regretful? Your own daughter was murdered in one of the most painful ways possible for her ashes and you call it regretful?”

A low hiss swept the room at my defiant tone and I pressed my lips together.

Queen Elphame’s gaze froze on me for a moment before she tilted her head back, looking at me from under hooded eyes. “I’ve had hundreds of children, little Wise. I gave birth to Gilbarta, but I never knew her. The Wise were a gift from Stavarjak to your hopeless world. Thousands of years ago, our Wise were beloved by humans, appreciated and protected. They were allowed to do what they were born to do, heal the earth, heal animals and people, and give their light to a dark world. The Wise were a gift to give hope in black places. Do you think Gilbarta was the only Wise to be executed by humans without?”

I opened my mouth, rocked by what she was saying. I had wondered once if some of the poor victims of the witch trials had really been Wise. If I had doubted it, I didn’t anymore, and the witch trials wouldn’t have been the only time in history which would have resulted in the deaths of Wise.

“Your people and ours once held regular communion. I used to visit without regularly, carried Wise children in my own body, brought them to term and arranged safe places for them to grow up.” Queen Elphame leaned forward, her voice rising a little. “I arranged for those children to learn who and what they were, to find their place in the world, and to make life wherever they would give it. To spread joy and healing and beauty. And how were they repaid?”

Not a shoe stirred against the floor, nor a voice breathed a word or a sound in reply. Even the fairy lights and small shimmering flocks of what I assumed were tiny magical creatures seem to have stopped moving.

Queen Elphame slapped a hand on the stone at her hip and yelled, “How!?”

I jumped at the sound of her bark and of her hand slapping against the stone. It gave such a sharp retort it had to be magically amplified. I closed my eyes against the rage in those violet fae eyes. I dropped my head and chanced a look through my eyelashes.

The queen’s look of rage subsided a little. Her voice returned to normal. “No longer do I visit without to mate with human males. Never again will I give Wise to the human cause. They’re on a path of self-destruction they cannot be turned from. They can rot in their idea of hell for all I care. They’ll never hurt another of my Wise. They’ll never again take from me without gratitude or anything in return save for avarice. The days of our worlds mingling is long over.” She flicked a hand in my direction. “You are a remnant of a by-gone age. You do not belong in that place. None of your kin are there any longer.”

I swallowed down a sudden surge of fear that she’d command me never to return. Fyfa had warned me it was a possible consequence. I tensed, preparing myself to pass through the veil should Queen Elphame show any sign of taking away my choices. I knew the consequences of defying a direct order from the fae queen might be dire, but there was no way I’d allow her to keep me from going home.

“You would do well to make a home here,” Queen Elphame said gently, her rage appearing to be spent for the moment. “If you choose to return to that cesspool you grew up in and face a black witch to save the souls of the damned, that is your choice.”

My shoulders slumped with both relief and despair. My petition had gone horribly wrong, but at least I hadn’t been commanded one way or the other.

“You may go.” Queen Elphame waved a dismissive hand.

I gave an awkward curtsy on stiff limbs and backed up several metres before turning around and walking the long corridor between the fae crowd once more. I caught a glance of Laec before he passed out of my view and was amazed to see him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, chewing a piece of grass. His eyes were hooded, his posture lazy and disinterested, but a gleam of something alive flashed in his gaze as our eyes met. He took the grass from his mouth, moved away from the wall and became lost in the crowd.

I was surprised to see some fae drying tears with squares of filmy cloth and wondered why they were emotional. It had to have been Queen Elphame’s rousing speech about the injustice humans had inflicted upon my ‘kind’. I shook my head and picked up the pace, eager to be away from calculating eyes.

At the door, Fyfa opened her arms to me. I walked into her and she hugged me and whispered. “Now that that part is over, this way.”

Instead of returning to the large doors where we’d entered, she steered me to the entrance of a narrow hallway.

“Take this all the way to the end,” she said quietly before putting her hands on my shoulders and kissing me on the cheek. “I’m sorry I can’t go with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

She squeezed the muscles at my neck. “You’re about to have an audience with the queen, as I promised.”

I recoiled with surprise. “What did I just have, afternoon tea?”

Fyfa smiled. “That was a show. Now go.” She turned me and gave me a push down the hall.

Chapter Two

My footfalls padded on thick almost moss-like carpet leading to a dark doorway at the end of the hall. Distantly, the sounds of conversation from the great hall grew dim as I approached the open door. A fae male stepped into the arch and saw me coming. He beckoned impatiently. When I was close, he gestured to where a short set of stairs curved up and to the right. I climbed, catching glimpses of gardens and the forests beyond through the windows I passed. Two fae along the way directed me to continue up to the third level. Orienting myself by the view of the yard, I realized I was in the equivalent of Gavin’s library tower. Once again, Queen Elphame’s version was far nicer.

The circular room had a cushy seat running around the entire space with pillows and blankets waiting to offer comfort. Billowy fabric hid the ceiling entirely and moved dreamily as though touched by a soft wind, though the room was still. Torches bracketed each window, flickering with flames of various colors: purples, blues, greens, and the usual reds and oranges.

The room was vacant. After looking around, I headed for the door, wondering if I might have accidentally gone to the wrong place. Queen Elphame met me at the doorway and I backed up so fast I almost tripped.

“Already here,” the queen quipped casually as she lifted her hands to her hair. “Good. Have a seat anywhere.”

She removed several pins and clips and masses of black hair fell in a shining cascade around her shoulders. She put the pins on a sill above the seat to her right and shook her hair out, sighing. As her hair moved the black faded slowly to grey and then to silver and white.

I lowered weakly onto the nearest cushion, mute and staring.

Queen Elphame moved to a cluster of small circular pedestals near the wall where a break in the seating allowed. A silver water jug and stack of cups sat there, the jug dripping with condensation.

“I’m dying for a drink.” She looked over her shoulder. “Would you care for something?”

“Water,” I croaked.

She smiled and turned away. “A bit boring, but sometimes nothing else will do.” Pouring sparkling water from the jug into one glass, she moved it to the next and poured again, only this time the liquid was pale gold. It looked suspiciously like white wine. She set down the jug and carried the cups to where I sat.

She handed me the glass of water and I took it. “Thanks.”

She sighed again and sank gracefully beside me. “Enjoy it, my dear. Not many in my world—and certainly even less in yours—will ever be served by a fae queen.” She clinked her cup against mine. “What do they say without? Slánte?”

“Or cheers, if you’re from… uh, Canada.”

I took a drink of the water and gave my own sigh of pleasure. The water was cool and fresh and tasted alive, like it had been taken from an underground spring bubbling up through a crop of spearmint plants. I lowered the cup to see Queen Elphame watching me, a little smile on her lips. Her expression was full of curiosity and affection. She reached a hand to my hair, the long white nails shorter, blunter and no longer painted.

Queen Elphame removed a few of the vines and blossoms and the whole updo collapsed, spilling my blond hair over my shoulders and back. The relief my neck and scalp felt was immediate. I hadn’t realized how many little muscles were required to keep a pile of hair and decorations aloft. Made me wonder how showgirls in Vegas did it night after night, or monarchy for that matter, with their heavy crowns.

“Queen… Majesty.” I licked a drop of the sweet water off my bottom lip. “I’m confused.”

“Of course you are. You don’t know the first thing about how things are done here.” Queen Elphame leaned against the cushion and propped her glass against her thigh, running a finger around the rim of the goblet. A bright pink liquid ran down the inside of her goblet, following after her finger as it made contact. She swirled her glass, tasted the liquid, and gave a satisfied smile. “I like a hint of floral in my wine.”

She looked at me and leaned forward, extending a finger. “Would you like a touch in your water?”

Instinctively, I pulled back. “I’m good, thanks.”

She relaxed and chuckled. “My dear if I had intentions to poison you or otherwise harm you, I would have done it after you’d been caught stealing.”

“Queen… why am I here?”

She gestured graciously. “This is the audience after the audience. Sometimes I give them, when I’m interested. You happen to have caught my interest.”

I wracked my mind for why she would possibly want to give two audiences, one public and one private.  “The first audience is a show for your people? You have some reason to have them believe you don’t want to help me.”

“My dear, its not personal. It has nothing to do with not wanting to help you. It has more to do with discouraging my people from making their own Wise. I gave a decree, though not punishable only discouraged, that my fae are not to spend time with the humans without. My sentiments, though given with more vitriol than I really feel, were accurate. I don’t want any more Wise to perish. Our magic has been vilified and persecuted enough there.”

“But if the Wise have the power to heal, to nurture and give hope to a world choked by pollution. Now is not the time to withdraw your gifts.” I started to relax into our conversation as I felt the queen herself relax. “If anything, you should be… doubling-down, so to speak.”

Elphame gave me a sympathetic look I didn’t like, as though I was a bit of an idiot for thinking the Wise might have the power to affect anything in the human world any more. “So idealistic, so hopeful.”

“It’s not too late, surely?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. Our bonds were cut long ago and I will not be reforming them.” Queen Elphame took a sip and watched me from over the edge of her goblet.

“Then why am I here? If you’re not going to help me, then why waste your time with an after audience?”

“I can see that you have no intention of staying here, where you’re safe and welcome,” she replied, her expression sly.

“You mean you can see it in my mind.”

She chuckled. “That is just a trick.” she lowered her voice. “I can pick the last thought before a pause out of the air. Questions are particularly easy to pick out. But I can’t actually read your thoughts as thoroughly as I might appear to.”

This admission jarred me. “It’s a kind of trick?”

“Yes, like a sleight of hand, a menial illusion. It requires a little concentration, but with practice it becomes quite easy.”

I was reminded that during my confrontation with Daracha, she had answered questions I had only been thinking.

“Can anyone learn this trick?”

“Anyone with some mastery over their magic, I suppose.” She gave an elegant shrug.

“Including a Wise?”

“It’s hard to say. The fae gifts differ greatly in Wise offspring, some of them never inherit their magic. They live and die never knowing their true heritage. Others discover their gifts late in life. The lucky ones discover Stavarjak and make their lives here permanently.”

“You said there are no Wise left in my world. Do you know that for a fact?”

The queen frowned. “I forbade my people to make Wise over a century ago, and stopped myself a century before that. Wise born during those times would be long dead, and the ones who are still alive must remain in Stavarjak to enjoy their full lifespan.”

I felt the warm liquid comfort of relief flood through me at her admission that it was a calculation and not a known fact, but that warmth turned cold when I thought of Daracha. “But if there are other Wise remaining–as I am,” I said, reminding her that I was clear proof that her assumption was faulty, “then Daracha could find them. She could take another victim, even if I did stay in Stavarjak and out of her reach.”

Queen Elphame took a long slow sip, still watching me.

“If you were willing to help me stop her, then neither of us would have to lose a night’s sleep over her ever again.”

“I don’t lose sleep, Georjayna. Georjie.” She smiled. “That’s what Fyfa calls you.” Her face softened with affection. “It’s cute.”

I jumped on the opportunity of the leverage presented. “You know that Fyfa believes Daracha cursed her?”

Queen Elphame stilled, her expression flickering with something unpleasant. She blinked slowly, her eyes reflecting the firelight of the torch across from us.

“You didn’t know?” I asked.

Queen Elphame’s tone was cool but she looked as though her gown had become itchy, rubbing at the skin under the fabric at her chest. “Fyfa suffers a blood illness she picked up without and has never fully shaken.”

“And if it’s not just an illness?”

The queen seemed to make up her mind about something. The muscles in her jaw flexed and her strange purple eyes hardened. “You have until the next full moon.”

My breath quickened, my heart lurched with surprise. Could my mention of Fyfa’s curse have worked? “What?”

Queen Elphame lifted a hand and made an elegant swirling motion with her fingers. A small bit of green light appeared in the air in front of her palm. More swirling and the light dimmed and solidified into a shape. As I watched the thing elongated, formed a fat teardrop with a little burst on the blunt end. Queen Elphame caught the rosehip with her fingertips and handed it to me.

Hesitant to touch it, I studied it. It looked like a normal rosehip, round and fat and bursting with seeds as they do in late fall. It caught the light and softly shone with good health.

“Take it,” she commanded.

I took the rosehip and held it in my palm.

“Lure this black witch to the garden maze behind your Blackmouth castle by the next full moon. Carry this rosehip with you at all times. If you do as I say, then I shall offer my aid at midnight. This rosehip will help conceal your presence from Daracha while you remain close to Blackmouth. The nearer you are to me, the weaker Daracha’s ability to find you.”

My breath constricted, feeling like a hot marble caught in my throat. “And should I fail to get her to the castle at midnight of the next full moon?”

She leaned back again, throwing her arm across the back of the bench casually. “In that case make sure you’ve said goodbye to the important people in your life.”

I stared at her.

She ignored my expression. “If you do well, you’ll find yourself with the assistance of the most powerful fae in Stavarjak. If you do not do well, the witch will certainly get the better of you, for no Wise can compete with the power Daracha possesses. You cannot say I am not both generous and sporting.”

All the moisture seemed to evaporate from my mouth as I gaped at the queen. I had to bait Daracha to the castle on a very rigid deadline in order to win the queen’s aid? The only way I could do that was to present myself as bait. Daracha had already proven it was easy for her to take control over me. No. There had to be some other way. I held the rosehip out to Elphame. “Take it back, I don’t agree.”

“Too late, you’ve already touched it. The deal is made.”

I glared at her. “You tricked me.”

She winked. “I’m fae.”

Chapter Three

Voices leaked through the cracks around my bedroom door and nudged me into wakefulness. The distant bell of Blackmouth’s Town Hall clock reached my ears. I counted nine bongs as I lay there, groaning after the last one. It was the day before Easter, and I’d overslept. Blinking, I yawned and sat up. Cool air traced its fingers over my neck, and I shivered and fought the urge to dive beneath the covers again. Instead, I forced one bare foot onto the cold floor and—wincing—the other. I identified Maisie’s sweet voice and Ainslie’s commanding one coming from down the hall. I’d slept late.

The rosehip Elphame had given me sat on the nightstand beside the clock. I made a face at it.

Shivering and wondering why my room was more chilly than usual, I got out of bed and dressed. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth before tucking the rosehip into my pocket and emerging to an even colder hallway. Another  degree cooler, and I would see my breath.

Jasher’s bedroom door was closed, but the rest of the doors down the hall were propped open. Ainslie and Maisie’s voices echoed from one of the empty guest rooms.

I returned to my wardrobe to fetch a sweater and wrap a scarf around my neck. Toeing on a pair of indoor sneakers, I made my way down the hall, rubbing my arms to circulate blood. Passing by the open double doors of the upstairs parlor revealed the source of the cold air. All of the windows were open.

“Georjie is up,” I heard Maisie say. “Finally.”

“Excellent.” Ainslie’s voice was muffled, and she sounded a little out of breath. “Saves us having to wake her. Would you mind asking her to close the parlor windows? That’s enough fresh air for now.”

I peeked into the room to see Maisie drop a dust-cloth on the floor and kick it, cheeks pink and fine hair drifting around her head. She’d clearly slept on her ponytail, and the effect was adorable. She looked up to see me and came over, stopping very close to me. She tilted her head all the way back to talk to me.

“Morning, Georjie. Ainslie requests …”

I smiled at the little girl and touched her nose. “I heard, and I’m on it. It’s chilly in here. Smells fresh, though.”

It wasn’t raining now, but it had rained in the night. The scent of damp earth filled the parlor.

Maisie followed me to the parlour and observed thoughtfully from the doorway, chewing the end of her thumb, as I methodically closed and locked all the windows. There were a lot of them. The girl watched me, concerned.

“Something on your mind?” I pulled the last window closed and latched it.

“Don’t you like us anymore?” Maisie blurted, and I was startled to see the sparkle of a tear in the corner of one eye.

I crossed the room and knelt in front of her. “Of course I do! I like you very much. Why?”

Her expression was broken, and her voice wavered. “You hardly ever sleep here anymore. You haven’t read to me in a long time.”

“Oh, honey.” I took Maisie’s hand. “I’ve just been busy.”

Ainslie appeared behind Maisie, an apologetic expression on her face. “Maisie, one day you’ll understand what it’s like to be in love.”

The housekeeper put her hands on the little girl’s shoulders and steered her back down the hall. I hoped no one noticed the furious blush heating my cheeks. The redheaded child lobbed another heart-rending look at me. I swallowed, waging a silent interior battle against the onslaught of guilt and lost.

“I daresay she’ll be around a little more for Easter.” Ainslie gently guided Maisie to the guest room. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do. Dust never sleeps.”

Curious, I followed and saw when I looked inside the room that they were tidying the space for use and dressing the king-size bed with fresh sheets.

“Tuck that side like I showed you, Maisie.” Ainslie bent and wrangled her side of the bed with the deft hands and swift movements born of many years of bed making. “That a girl.”

“Getting ready for the tourist season a little early?” I picked up a pillow and clean pillowcase from a laundry basket full of folded linens. Working the pillow into its case, I watched Maisie cram the edges of the bottom sheet under the mattress. I resisted the urge to correct her. I’d actually never seen Maisie helping Ainslie with housework before. Typically, Ainslie would come to me if she needed help with something.

Ainslie flashed me a sly look from the head of the bed where she worked at covering a lamp with a shade that matched the bedspread. “Something like that.”

The sound of metal clinking from down the hall drew me out of the room. Gavin was at the very end, on his knees and working on something I couldn’t see. I approached to find him wearing an electrician’s belt and tinkering inside the open panel of an elevator not quite big enough for three people.

“Morning, Gavin.”

“Morning, Georjie.” Gavin shot me a shrewd grin. His hair was sleep-mussed, the flannel shirt he wore was mis-buttoned, the tail wrinkled and hanging out. Not only did things seem out of their normal rhythm this morning, people appeared to have tumbled straight from their bed and into household chores. I also got the distinct feeling from Ainslie and Gavin that they knew something I didn’t.

I watched him fiddle with an electronic panel containing a mass of wiring and hoped he didn’t electrocute himself. “I didn’t know Blackmouth Castle had an elevator.”

“Aye. I shut it down over the winter so the kids aren’t tempted to play wi’ it.” Gavin made a few more adjustments, replaced the metal cover and began to screw it down. His wrist twisted the screwdriver deftly and soon the snarl of colorful wires was hidden away once more.

“It’s still another month and a half until the castle opens for guests, isn’t it?” I closed my cardigan more tightly around my body.

“Aye.” Gavin grunted as he got up from his knees. “But this Easter we’ve decided to open a few rooms for some folks who’ve made a special request.”

“Ah. Well that explains all the futzing. Who is special enough that you’ve changed your seasonal routine?”

The distant sound of an engine made Gavin pause before answering.

“You’ll find out in short order, I should think.” He touched the end of the screwdriver to his forehead in a casual salute. “I hope you’re as happy about this as we think you’ll be. Family can be tricky.”

I did a double-take, thinking I’d heard him wrong. “Family? My family?”

In answer, Gavin just laughed.

I ran down the hall, returning to the parlor. Arriving at the window in time to see a car pull up in front of the castle, I pressed against the glass for a better look. The car came to a stop and the driver killed the engine. Bonnie got out of the driver’s side door, smiling and chatting to whoever was still inside.

The pale-haired woman who got out of the passenger side brought a smile spread to my face. I hadn’t seen Aunt Faith since Ireland. I could hear Bonnie and Faith chatting and laughing as they headed for the boot.

Leaving the window and crossing the parlor nearly at a run, I went to Jasher’s door and knocked on it. “Jasher, you’ll never believe who just pulled up.” I waited for him to come to the door but there was no reply or sound that he was even awake.

“Jasher?” I knocked again before kicking myself internally. Of course he wasn’t here; he would be at Lachlan’s place, which was where we’d all agreed they’d stay until Daracha had been dealt with. Well, all except for me from now on. I needed to stay as close to the castle as I reasonably could. I wondered just how far from the castle I could wander before the witch would be able to detect me. Mentally, I cursed the fae queen for being so vague. I still wasn’t sure if going to her had been a good idea or not.

Just to be sure, I opened Jasher’s bedroom door and confirmed that his bed hadn’t been slept in. Leaving the door open, I went down the hall to the large staircase leading down into the front hall. Taking the steps two at a time, I heard people approaching the large front doors.

I hit the stone floor of the front entrance as one of the huge wooden doors swung open. Bonnie came inside pushing a piece of rolling luggage, another bag tucked under her arm. Aunt Faith came in behind her, curly hair wild and a smile dimpling her cheek. Faith pulled a larger piece of luggage over the threshold and into the hall.

“Aunt Faith!” I felt out of breath as I crossed to the door, already opening my arms for a hug. I froze as I caught sight of a third woman walking in behind my aunt. Aunt Faith had her arms around me, so I hugged her back, but I was unable to prevent myself from gaping over her shoulder at my …

“Mom?”

Liz Sutherland swept into the foyer, chin lifted like royalty. Her perfect blonde updo was smooth and totally unaffected by the wind and humidity of the Highlands. Her makeup, sprayed with a fixative every morning, was perfection itself. A subtle cat’s-eye line highlighted her eyes, and lipstick the color of an overripe raspberry stained her mouth. It wouldn’t smudge or fade or even move until she wiped it off tonight with an organic cotton pad. A smile spread across her face as we made eye contact. She carried no luggage, only a tan handbag, which matched her shoes. A perfectly fitted double-breasted coat complemented her frame and matched the blue of her eyes. She opened her gloved hands out, her elbows pinned tight to her sides. “Poppet!”

Bonnie shut the front door and faced the reunion, looking as pleased and relaxed as a cat in a beam of sunlight. I realized with some species of relief that this was the Lady of Blackmouth’s happy place: playing hostess. At least I didn’t have to worry that she’d see them as an imposition.

Aunt Faith released me and my mother gathered me in for a scented hug. She smelled of Chanel No 5, the perfume I’d forever associate with the justice system. She sighed into my ear. “Surprise.”

She pulled back and looked at me, holding me at arm’s length. Her hands trailed from my shoulders to my hands, and she held them up for inspection. “You look lovely. You need a haircut and a manicure, but you look healthy, and dare I say happy?”

My heart had decelerated enough for me to find my manners. I worked at transforming the shock I knew was all over my face into surprised joy.

Aunt Faith stood at my elbow sounding a little doubtful as she studied my face. “I hope this is a pleasant interruption, Georjie. I wanted to give you a bit of warning, but your mother wanted to surprise you.” She glanced around the front hall and up the stairs. “Where is Jasher?”

“He’s not here at the minute.” I gently extricated my hands from my mother’s grasp. “I guess this was a surprise for him too.”

Bonnie helped Liz out of her coat and stood there waiting as Mom worked her hands out of her gloves. Bonnie said: “I actually did have to tell Jasher, I’m sorry. I needed his help with … something.”

Aunt Faith looked surprised but not upset. She avoided my gaze as she shed her own winter things. “Right.”

Something else was going on around here. I narrowed my eyes at Bonnie, but she just gave me a serene smile. She gathered up Liz and Faith’s things and tucked their gloves and scarves into the coat pockets, making sure to fold the scarves so they wouldn’t wrinkle.

Mom moved across the floor for a closer look at a portrait of a handsome man in a kilt standing next to a black stallion. “This place is simply spectacular. I haven’t stayed in a castle since my university days.”

“I didn’t know you’d ever stayed in a castle, Mom.” I watched her closely as she gazed up at the art, looking for some revelation in her expression, some deeper layer behind her reasons for being here. It wasn’t like hot-shot lawyer-Liz to drop her work for a last minute, trans-Atlantic journey. She was allergic to being impulsive.

I found myself caught in a thicket of emotions. As the initial shock of their visit dissolved, seeing my mother in person provoked feelings about the recent discovery of my true heritage to rush to the surface. I was half fae. Liz had hidden this remarkable fact from me for my entire life. Aunt Faith might have been in on the secret too, but I doubted it. I knew Aunt Faith to default to honesty, but then again, this was my mother’s secret, not hers.

The thought of getting my mother alone for a private talk was both terrifying and exhilarating. I’d never known until now that it was possible to look forward to and dread something at the same time.

“How long have you been planning this?” I took the coats from Bonnie and delivered them to the elaborate wooden wardrobe beside the stairs.

“A few weeks.” Aunt Faith watched my face closely. Jasher’s adopted mother was incredibly astute. She put a hand on my arm as I returned to where they stood. Her brow wrinkled. “Did we do wrong, Georjie?”

My mother flapped a hand. “Of course we didn’t do wrong. I told you Georjie would be thrilled to have us pop in for Easter. Aren’t you, Poppet?”

“Of course I’m thrilled.” My voice came out only a little flinty. In truth, it was really nice to see people who loved me, even if one of them had been lying to me my entire life. But I had less than two weeks to neutralize Daracha, and I had no idea how to lure her into the trap without ending up as a pile of ashes. I cleared my throat and forced my tone to brighten. “We’ll have a great time. How long are you staying?”

I braced myself for the answer and hoped they couldn’t see the muscles jumping in my jaw.

Bonnie chuckled and shared a knowing look with Aunt Faith. She tried to share that same knowing look with my mother, but Liz was busy examining an expensive looking stained glass lamp on the ornate table at the base of the stairs.

Aunt Faith caught my eye, and her questioning look pleaded that whatever was wrong, couldn’t it wait? “Gavin and Bonnie have kindly allowed us to book two rooms over the long weekend and one extra day for good measure. We couldn’t come to Scotland and not make the trip worthwhile. Especially for your mother, who came from so far away.”

Faith had flown here from Ireland, less than half a day’s journey. But my mother had flown from Canada and managed to free herself from the monstrous hydra that was her career in order to spend Easter with her daughter. I needed to focus on dealing with Daracha, but I supposed I should be grateful that Liz and Faith would only be staying for five days.

On the plus side, this was Liz’s way of making an effort, of showing me she loved and missed me. My mother was here. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, when we were face to face, she’d be honest with me, and I could get some straight answers about my true nature.

I crossed the foyer to where Liz stood and gave her another hug. “Thanks for coming, Mom.”

When we pulled apart, she looked uncomfortable but pleased. “Oh.” She flapped a hand again and dabbed the corner of one eye. “Let’s have a good time, shall we?”

I gave a wobbly grin. “Carpé diem.”