I glanced around furtively. Very few of the Fae even noticed me, and the ones who did barely spared me a glance before turning back to their drinking and laughing.

  Was it a party of some sort? I didn’t know what to do. Stand there like an idiot waiting to be peeled? Walk around and introduce myself? Start up an ice-breaker activity? Hiding seemed like a good idea, but there wasn’t even furniture to duck behind.

  “Do you refuse the Queen’s hospitality?” a rough voice demanded behind me. I spun around to find a short, squat Fae with a large nose and low forehead thrusting a tankard at me, its greasy apron covering hair that was thick and shiny, all over its body. There was one tusk sticking out of its left cheek. Just one. Two baleful, mud-colored eyes glared at me under what might have been bushy eyebrows, or might have just been more hair.

  “Uh, no, of course not! Th – of course not!” I mumbled quickly, taking the mug. The Fae grunted and moved along, pulling another mug out of the air and handing it to someone else. I watched, fascinated.

  “To the Queen’s health!” someone else said next to me.

  I spun quickly, sloshing liquid out of the mug. I didn’t want any of these Fae sneaking up behind me.

  But he didn’t look threatening at all. He was my height, with hair so blonde it was almost white, pulled back into three braids on each side, the high points of his ears peeking through them. He had the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Button blue. Sky blue. Forget-me-not blue.

  I bet a girl could cut herself on those cheekbones, I thought. Bet it would hurt so good.

  My shoulders twitched, but I ignored them and smiled dopily at him.

  He raised his mug and smiled back, showing perfectly straight, white teeth. He looked kind of like Legolas from The Lord of the Rings.

  Wait until I tell…what’s her name, I thought. Except Legolas was an elf. Who I thought were related to the Fae, somehow, but I couldn’t remember and it didn’t matter, because Pretty Boy was smiling at me.

  I lifted my mug to him and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, thinking how strong his neck looked and how pretty he was, with his shiny white-blonde hair and his bright blue eyes and his strong, white neck.

  “You do not drink to the Queen’s health?” He asked pointedly, indicating my untouched mug.

  “Oh!” I sniffed the drink. “I’m not much of a beer drinker,” I giggled. Giggled. And lied. I love beer.

  “Perhaps wine?” he asked politely, glancing back at my mug, which had turned into a wine glass with a deep red liquid in it. It smelled delicious – rich, but not sweet. My mouth felt dry. All that walking through the woods with the Irish-twin-mafia-rapper-thugs had worked up a thirst.

  I blinked at the glass. Better-than-Legolas watched expectantly, an inviting smile on his face. “’Tisn’t polite to refuse a toast to the Queen’s health,” he pointed out gently.

  Right! Manners! I didn’t want to insult anyone in the Unseelie court, no sirree. I batted my eyes at him and raised the glass to my nose, sniffing the bouquet.

  He waited. I put the glass to my lips. “You, uh, come here often?” I asked him coyly.

  His mouth tightened briefly. “Yes, I live here,” he answered with what sounded like extreme patience. “This is my mother’s court.”

  The Prince! Yikes! I brought the glass down and dropped into a fumbling curtsy. Not much call to curtsy, um – topside? Overhill? What was that other place called, anyway? I would have to practice so I didn’t make a fool of myself now that I was with the court.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Yes, rise, please.” Now he did sound impatient. “Surely you will join me in toasting my mother the Queen’s health.” It was no longer an invitation, but an expectation.

  He certainly seemed eager to get me drinking. It felt vaguely like the one and only frat party I’d gone to as an undergrad. Those frat boys had not had my best interests at heart. I scrutinized the wine glass.

  My shoulders twitched again. “Don’t ever eat or drink anything a Fae gives you, especially if you’re Underhill,” Aunt Katie’s voice echoed sharply in my head.

  I lowered the glass further from my face. “I, uh, I’m not thirsty.”

  The Prince frowned as if surprised by my refusal. I wanted to reach out and smooth the frown line between his eyebrows. Such a pretty, pretty face shouldn’t ever frown!

  “It is rude,” he hissed, “not to drink a toast to the Queen’s health!”

  Whoa. “And it is rude to drug people to get what you want from them.” Take that, pretty frat-elf. No way I was drinking this delicious smelling wine offered to me by this delicious looking Prince of the Unseelie court.

  Prince Not-Legolas (Legolas never would have tried such a trick) looked astonished, then he smiled at me ruefully and tipped his mug at me. “You are right,” he said in an aw-shucks kind of voice. “My apologies. Your beauty caused me to forget that you may be mortal, and to drink or eat with us might keep you here forever. Although I must admit, such a thing would bring me tremendous pleasure.” He shrugged, like: no big, whatevs. Geez, I could have been stuck here forever! But his forget-me-not eyes looked even bluer when he apologized.

  “Come, allow me to introduce you to my mother.” He held out an arm and even though the last thing I wanted to do was meet Queen Úna, I wrapped my hand around it and giggled again. Giggled. I never giggled.

  “Okay!” I held out my wineglass and the bartender with one tusk took it from me, muttering something about ungrateful wretches.

  We made our way through the crowd, or rather, the crowd made way for us, stepping back as the Prince and I walked by. I felt very special, clinging to his arm as all the abominable Fae bowed and curtsied us past. I hardly even noticed what they looked like, because after all, Prince Better-than-Legolas’s hand rested over mine where it on his forearm, which was as pretty a forearm as you can imagine, clad in dark blue velvet.

  I was so busy staring at the Prince’s profile I almost didn’t notice when the last of the Fae stepped out of our way and we stopped walking.

  “My Queen,” he said formally, bowing deeply.

  I whipped my head front and center but then, remembering I was in the Unseelie court and this was the Queen of the Unseelie Fae, I dropped immediately into a curtsy.

  47

  In a Yellow Wood

  And stayed in that curtsy for so long I started to wobble. The Queen said nothing. The Prince said nothing. The Fae behind us were quieter than mice (which some of them resembled). Should I straighten up? Should I even look up? Wait it out? Was this a test of some sort? My butt was starting to cramp.

  “Rise, witch,” a warm voice finally said.

  I straightened slowly, trying to unclench my butt cheeks.

  The Prince was pretty, oh, so pretty, but the Queen was stunning.

  Mounds of auburn hair were piled on top of her face, which was heart shaped but strong-boned. Her eyes were hazel, like a cool river running through a green forest, and I could just make out flecks of gold in them. Her skin was pale and flawless like she’d never had a pore in her life, and her lips a deep, dark, kissable red, perfectly bow-shaped and pouty. She was smiling beneficently at me, and it was like sunshine on a crisp autumn day. On her head was a crown of branches, with red and gold leaves and orange mums intertwined.She sat on a large throne shaped like a dragon’s head. In fact, she was sitting right in the mouth of the dragon.

  Next to her was a second throne, slightly larger, made of what looked like the ribcage of some enormous animal. It was empty.

  I frantically tried to remember more about Úna and Finnbheara. I was fairly certain he truly loved her, according to the stories, anyway. He just had a wandering eye. And she had a nasty temper.

  Which reminded me that I’d essentially been kidnapped and forced here by two slightly unbalanced ginger-haired changelings, and almost tricked into staying forever by a beautiful Fae prince. The Queen might be beautiful and the prince oh, so pretty, but this was the Unseelie court, and they were causing trouble topside, or – whatever that place was called. I wiped the awe off of my face.

  The Queen noticed. Her smile never faltered, but it became a little more imperious. “Little witch.” Her voice cooled. “You come to pay your respects at last.”

  “At Your Majesty’s insistence.”

  There was a slight intake of air from the crowd. The pretty prince stepped away from me, as if to disassociate himself from my fate. The pretty boys were always fickle.

  The Queen’s smile turned glacial. “Indeed. I understand you were sent an invitation from the court some time ago but failed to join us for the Mabon celebration.” She clicked her tongue. “I would have expected better from a daughter who has been so long awaited by our court.” She waved her hand elegantly around her. “Summer has gone to slumber and Autumn waxes, and still we waited. I thought perhaps an escort would help speed your safe communion among us. I bid you welcome, at long last. Have you enjoyed some wine?”

  “I’m not particularly thirsty, although I salute your health,” I answered carefully.

  “What are you wearing?” she asked abruptly.

  Oops. “I, uh, wasn’t prepared ahead of time for this visit –”

  “Are those rabbits on your…pants?” she asked incredulously.

  “Bunnies, yeah. And they’re pajamas.” I shifted from one foot to the other, painfully aware that my bunny jammies were half-heartedly shoved into my snot-encrusted boots and my “Hello Sailor” t-shirt was probably not appropriate court attire. I clamped my mouth shut, trying not to apologize.

  “No matter.” The Queen flicked her fingers at me.

  And my bunny jammies, boots, and t-shirt were gone, replaced by a shimmering burgundy floor-length gown. It was cinched in so tightly around my ribs that it forced my breasts up to where they threatened to hit my chin. There was an underdress, too, dark green. You could see it through the slits in the elbow-length sleeves and under the hem when I swished around in a circle, which I did twice.

  I lifted the skirt a little to peek at my feet – gorgeous! Ankle-high leather boots in the same dark green, with a little heel, tied with burgundy ribbons. I felt like kicking them up and doing a jig, I was so pretty. I grinned over at the Prince, who bowed.

  “A vast improvement,” he offered gaily, toasting me with his tankard. I swished my skirt and preened. I even felt cleaner.

  So far, the Unseelie court wasn’t too bad!

  I turned back to the Queen and dipped into another curtsy rather than thank her.

  “I sense something about you…” she narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. Was she sniffing me? Oh, Goddess, did I still smell like boggart snot? “Let us walk,” she stood abruptly. “Cerne.” The Prince fell into place behind us.

  We strolled through the crowd, which parted for us silently, the other Fae bowing their heads (which was disappointing, since I looked so good in my new dress) and drawing back from us. Their whispers followed behind.

  One moment we were in the great hall, and the next we were back in the woods. My feet in their new cool boots scuffed through gold and crimson leaves rather than knocking on the marble floor of the hall. The Queen made no scuffing noises at all, moving smoothly a step in front of me. The sun slanted through the leaves, lighting the woods with blazing color, and my head swiveled around trying to see everything. I never realized how many shades of orange a tree could produce.

  “You are not as we expected,” the Queen commented as we strolled. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I kept my mouth shut. The Queen didn’t seem to notice, because she continued, “Our blood is faint in you, but we can still hear its call. Yet there is something else. Something older. Some…taint.”

  “I do believe I have several generations of human ancestors, Your Majesty. I’m quite proud of them.” It was stupid to antagonize the Queen of the Unseelie court, but seriously – taint? And I was proud of my ancestors.

  “Hm. It is not your human blood that we sense, witch. It is something…other.”

  Yeah, that was the boggart snot.

  “Your blood is ancient, yet you are young.”

  “I’m almost thirty!” I protested, then clamped my mouth shut. Úna slanted her eyes at me but didn’t break her stride.

  “As we say.” I glanced behind her to Cerne, who hadn’t said a thing.

  Oh, she was doing the royal “we” thing.

  “You refuse an invitation to the dance. Worse, you refuse an invitation to attend us for Mabon, and when you at last attend me as required, you do so in – rabbit pants.” She sniffed disdainfully.

  I squirmed in my pretty new dress – I mean, anything sounds bad if you put it that way – but the Queen wasn’t really expecting a response from me. She stopped and turned to me.

  “Worst offense of all, little sister, you seek to turn our husband’s eye.” And now she did wait.

  “Oh, no, Your Majesty! That’s all just a misunderstanding! I just happen to be named Fionnuala, it doesn’t really mean anything. Actually, usually I go by Lu. I’m sure your husband – er, the King – isn’t at all interested in me. It’s just a coincidence.” Was I babbling?

  Her face remained hard and cold. I felt a twinge of sympathy. It couldn’t be easy to have to deal with your husband constantly stealing other women, but that wasn’t my fault!

  “Your Majesty,” I tried again, “I’m sure if your husband is here somewhere, we can clear this whole thing up.”

  “He is not with us at court,” she informed me coolly.

  “Oh. When he returns, then,” I offered weakly.

  “He is not with us because he has been seeking you.”

  “What? No! I haven’t seen him, I swear,” I protested.

  “Do not lie to us.”

  I gasped. Rude!

  The Queen merely gazed at me. She had really mastered haughty.

  “I assure you,” I said stiffly, “I have no interest in stealing your husband.”

  “Lies,” she said in a bored voice.

  “Look,” I said, putting my hands on my hips and giving up on tact. “I’ve never even met your husband, and I’m sor – er, disappointed I missed the Mabon celebration. And as for the endless dance, really? You’re blaming me for not wanting to dance forever? I’ve heard the stories about that one, Your Majesty.”

  “You are impertinent,” she said, her voice unimaginably colder.

  “And you kidnapped me and forced me to come here, and set booger-snots loose on my campus, and killed my colleague!”

  She cocked an eyebrow. Damn it, even fairies?

  “Who is this colleague?” I noticed she didn’t bother to deny anything else.

  “Jane Wilson. She’s – she was – an English professor, like me.”

  “An English professor.” She said flatly, clearly unimpressed. “This is…?”

  “Er…a teacher of sorts. We read stuff. And write about it.”

  “A scholar?”

  “Yes, a scholar!” That sounded fancy.

  “Did this Jane Wilson have knowledge that would be useful to my enemies?”

  “I don’t know, but I doubt it. I’m not sure she even knew about you or your…enemies.” Actually, she did study Renaissance literature. She had probably known more about the Fae than I did.

  “Then why would I kill her?”

  I was stumped. “I don’t know. You mean you didn’t?”

  She turned to Cerne. “Did we kill this scholar?”

  “No, my Queen. We did not,” he replied gravely.

  She turned back to me and waved her hand dismissively. “I know nothing about this scholar, or her death.”

  “But – there were roses,” I stammered, feeling desperate to pin this on her. Scary as she was, she was still better than some amorphous wild magic out to get me. “Don’t you Fae love roses?”

  The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “Roses, you say?”

  I started to nod but caught myself. What if she thinks Finnbheara sent them?

  “These roses were left with your dead scholar?” I nodded cautiously. The Queen’s eyes narrowed. “Have there been other roses?” she demanded.

  Gods, so many roses. I nodded again.

  “Growing wild?” She leaned toward me, her eyes flashing.

  I thought of the elevator’s journey to the wild rose garden. The wild vines twining up my legs and unfurling a blanket of red down Horsebarn Hill. I said nothing, but the Queen’s lips smiled a fraction.

  “Oh, little lamb,” she said condescendingly, using one of the meanings of my name. “It has indeed begun.”

  “What has begun?” I glanced nervously between her and Cerne. Did she mean the Gate opening?

  She laughed, managing to sound both gleeful and malevolent. “At last!” She danced in a circle, her arms out, her skirts twirling around her.

  I looked at Cerne. “What is she talking about?”

  The Queen stopped in mid-twirl. “The wild magic is returning to your realm,” she replied coldly. “Where it was always meant to be.”

  “I heard something about that, but…I thought…” my voice faded as a white film slid across the Queen’s eyes and turned them opaque. Everything around us stilled except my shoulders, which started twitching.

  “She shall set free Her kind upon the world, and it shall be wasted in the order of things, or it shall be saved in the chaos.”

  She was quoting the prophecy. Cerne watched her hungrily, but I took a step back. Her white eyes whipped to me, following my movement. I watched uneasily as the color came back and they blazed green and gold again.

  “Now, on to important matters,” the Queen went on, as if nothing had happened. “You will cease seeking our husband’s attention immediately.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” I bobbed my head.

  Had it gotten colder out here? And darker? I glanced around as the wind picked up and blew golden leaves off of the trees.

  I needed to get out of there, get back to…back to…that place I’d come from, hadn’t I been somewhere else? What was that place called?

  “Choose.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38