The vulture alighted in front of the kappa and transformed into a tall man with impressive, gray wings. He set his burning eyes on the little fairy and smoke began to drift from his fingers.
The kappa let out a squeak and ran away; a hand protectively poised on the top of his cap. The vulture-man—who I determined to be a djinn—smoothed the lapels of his tailored suit and smiled with satisfaction. I looked away quickly; knowing better than to
Black furred pukas roamed freely about, sniffing for scraps around the tables, and when one passed by me, I jerked away. It paused to growl a warning in my direction before moving on. Then a nuckelavee sauntered by, and I forgot all about the pukas.
Outside the members of the Sluagh, the nuckelavee were the most horrifying things in the Fairy Realm. Technically, they were sea fairies and they were always a little wet, though not from water.
It was mostly horse-like in appearance. Although, its legs ended in flippers which smacked the stone floor like wet towels as it walked. It had one fiery eye in the center of its forehead, a mouth full of dagger sharp teeth, and no skin. That's right, it was skinless; its black blood showing clearly through custard-yellow veins which webbed over slick, crimson muscles and around snow-white sinews. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Rising from its back—
attached at the waist—was the torso of a man. It had a featureless face on its bulbous head; a head which was so big that it rolled side-to-side as if its neck were too weak to support it. It had no legs. As I said, it was just a torso attached to the horse's waist, but it had arms so long that they almost dragged the ground. The nuckelavee shifted its one eye in my direction, and I shivered.
I'd seen most of these fairies before but some, like the nuckelavee, I'd only read about. Seeing them in the flesh—some with more flesh than others—was disconcerting, to say the least. A shellycoat goblin, with his layers of shells worn like armor over his chest, clattered by; shooting me a wide smile.
“Come now.” Bress angled me through the mass of lesser fey and over to the throng of sidhe near the dais.
One of the benefits of being sidhe was a better seat at dinner and the tables closest to the dais were reserved for them. It was a perfect example of the elitism Torquil had displayed, and it made me realize that no such segregation was shown in the Twilight Court. There, the Fey—both lesser and sidhe—had
mingled together and, despite Torquil's attitude, that mingling gave me hope. Perhaps the Twilight Sidhe would be more receptive to change than their Unseelie cousins.
As we headed forward, I peered up at the ceiling, where beautiful women with porcelain skin sat on the wooden cross beams. They swung their legs like children; smiling down at me sweetly. I watched as one of them stroked her long, talon-tipped fingers through her shining, blonde hair; arranging the curls carefully over her slight breasts. Then I glanced at the nuckelavee.
So, that was why they were up in the rafters; the white women were afraid of horses. Although, honestly, who wouldn't be afraid of a nuckelavee?
The white women, also known as baobhan-sith, were the real inspiration behind tales of vampires. They lured men to them with their beauty and then attacked with those claws; puncturing a hole in the neck of their victims, which they would drink from. I knew about their fear of horses because I had studied the baobhan.
I'd studied every fairy the humans knew of, and I'd also studied their weaknesses. So, I wouldn't let them scare me. I was an extinguisher, and I'd been trained to kill them. They could smile at me all they wanted, and I would simply smile back.
“Bring my niece here,” Uisdean called from his gigantic throne.
The throne was carved from obsidian and polished to look like glass. Uisdean sat in it casually; one arm draped over the table in front of him while he sipped from a goblet of wine. At least, I hoped it was wine. The wall behind him was covered in black, thorny, thick vines and hanging from them was a banner with a device embroidered on it, just like the one in the Twilight Castle.
Except this device had a silver moon instead of a star and its background was completely black.
Bress led me up the steps to the long table, which only Uisdean and a woman were seated at. The woman set dark gray
eyes on me as if I were a mosquito to be slapped and brushed away. She was overly thin, almost to the point of emaciation, and her bone-white hair was piled in elaborate curls atop her head. Her skin was as pale as her hair and there was something about the shape of her eyes that reminded me of Keir. She held her hand out to Bress as we neared.
“Mother.” Bress bowed over the woman's hand and kissed the air above her claw-like fingers.
“My son.” She nodded as if pleased by the sight of him.
Her voice was the barest breath of sound, as if it was too much effort for her to speak. “Set the half-breed down and come sit by me.”
“Yes, Mother.” Bress pulled out a chair on Uisdean's right, and I slid into it. Then he crossed behind Uisdean and the woman to sit on his mother's left.
I gave a sigh of relief.
“You prefer me to your betrothed?” Uisdean asked with a wry grin. “How surprising.”
“He's my cousin, not my betrothed,” I hissed, “and if you think you can force me to speak vows to him, you are sorely mistaken.”
“We'll see.” Uisdean smiled brightly and poured some wine into a crystal goblet in front of me. “Drink, it'll help relax you.”
“No thanks.” I smiled back at him. “I'm good.”
“Not that good.” Uisdean's face went malicious for a moment. “Moire may have given you a reprieve from Bress but as soon as the evening's pleasantries are over, you will be reunited, and it looks as if he's already anticipating the reunion.” He cast a glance over at Bress, who was staring at me intensely.
“I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together.” I grinned brightly. “Hey, just for future reference, Bress isn't anyone's heir, is he?”
“What do you mean?” Uisdean narrowed his eyes on me.
“I just wanted to know if I could kill him without bringing the Sluagh down upon my head?” I twisted my lips into a smile.
“But then again, I've dealt with the Sluagh before... twice. They're not so bad.”
As if everyone had been listening to my conversation, the entire hall went quiet and all eyes turned toward me. Not at all creepy. And I wasn't quite sure what had got their attention. Was it the fact that I had threatened Bress or that I'd faced the Sluagh and lived? I mean, didn't they already know that last bit?
“You sent the Sluagh after her?” Moire's breathy voice was loud in the silence.
Hmm, maybe they didn't know.
“I had no knowledge of the Sluagh hunting Princess Seren,” Uisdean's tone made the statement into a lie.
“Twice?” Bress asked; his eyes glittering.
“I imagine that if someone were able to injure the Sluagh, the Cursed Ones would make a second attempt to kill her,”
Uisdean said airily.
“You injured the Sluagh?” Bress' eyes went wide as a slow smile spread across his face.
“And she lived,” Moire's voice went even softer; so soft that I had to strain to hear her. “Maybe she'll make you a good wife after all.”
“I told you she's lovely, Mother.” Bress looked at me as if I were a new toy he couldn't wait to play with.
“I'm not into incestuous relationships, but thanks for the compliment,” I said to Bress before refocusing on Uisdean. “So? Is he anyone's heir or not?”
“Not,” Uisdean finally answered. “But he is my favorite nephew and although you wouldn't be facing the Sluagh, you'd still have to deal with my wrath.”
“I think I already have to deal with that.” I shrugged, and he frowned.
“You will not be facing either Uncle Uisdean or the Sluagh, Princess Seren,” Bress leaned over to speak across his mother and his Uncle... our Uncle. “I am the only one you will be dealing with, and I welcome any challenge you may present me with, but I assure you; I will be the victor. By morning, you will be on your knees.”
“Only if I'm kneeling over your dead body.” I looked at Uisdean as I answered, and he frowned deeper.
The entertainments of the Unseelie Court would haunt me forever. Oh, they danced, drank, and made merry like they did in the Twilight Court, but in Unseelie, the merriment consisted of several rounds of rather inventive torture; inflicted on captured seelie fairies. Since the Fey were immortal, torture could continue almost endlessly; just so long as they gave their victims time to heal, and there were fairies there who had a blank, hopeless look to them that spoke of years of such treatment.
By the end of the night, I was staring into my lap, trying to drown out the sounds that seemed to echo in my ears, with the deep, tremulous breaths I was taking. My eyes were rapidly blinking back tears and my throat was constricted from holding down my screams. My skin ran hot and cold as if trying to decide whether to be terrified or furious. The smell of blood was an undertone to burnt flesh and hair, and I was a step away from throwing up all over their feast.
“There is no feast without cruelty,” Uisdean whispered into my ear.
“I don't think this was what Nietzsche meant when he said that,” I shot back; earning a surprised smile from him.
“Poetry.” He waved his hands expansively. “Just as I said in your dream; words can have so many meanings.”
“Nietzsche was a philosopher, not a poet,” I ground out.
“I think most philosophers have the souls of poets,” he countered, “but that is... what's the human expression? Next to the point?”
“Beside the point,” I ground out.
“Yes!” Uisdean smiled in delight. “Words again, so lovely.
It is beside the point because Nietzsche was a poet and also a composer.”
“What?” I blinked; totally unprepared for this fairy to know more than I did about a human.
“I don't believe Nietzsche would be as offended by our feast as you are,” Uisdean mused. “I think he would agree with me when I say; you're letting your slave morality cloud your reason.”
“My what?!” I gaped at him.
“I apologize.” He blinked. “I thought you'd read Nietzsche.”
“I have.” I frowned and then remembered what he was referring to. “The master slave morality,” I gave a huff. “Right, but again, this is a bit extreme for that. Just because I don't want people tortured, it doesn't make me a slave moralist.”
“You're responding to our treatment of enemies we have under our control.” Uisdean cocked his head at me; not even flinching when a woman screamed in the background. “This, according to the human Nietzsche, is a slave morality, propagated by Christianity, which is a religion of the slaves. Master morality values pride, nobility, strength, and power. Good or bad are determined by the consequences of your actions. The end result.
Slave morality values kindness, humility, and sympathy,” he said the words with a sneer. “Good and bad are determined by intention.”
“Yes, I know what you meant now.” I rolled my eyes. “No need for the philosophy lesson.”
“I merely point it out because I want to know why you seem to be aligning yourself with the slaves when you should
behave like a master.” Uisdean looked genuinely interested.
“I'm neither,” I growled. “I'm an American.”
“It wasn't so long ago that Americans owned slaves,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, all right, that's valid,” I said. “But we don't anymore.”
“Yes, because now America is a good Christian Nation”—
he chuckled—“valuing humility and justice against oppression.
Sacrifice for the greater good.”
“First of all”—I turned to face him fully so I could point my finger in his face because that's what you do when you're annoyed with a fairy king—“we are a nation founded on the right of religious freedom, not only the right to be Christian.”
“Freedom; another slave ideal.” He laughed and batted away my finger as if it were a fly
“Are you kidding me?” I gaped at him. “As if you'd want to be enslaved?”
“I can never be enslaved,” he said in a low, dangerous tone.
“I am a master. I'm powerful, and I value that power. I value the consequences actions have; like how the Seelie will fear us more when they hear how their people screamed beneath our blades.
How they will recoil from me and mine because of that fear. How my dark host and I will become the food of their nightmares. This, you naive child”—he waved a hand out at the torture—“is a king protecting his people, and you have no right to sit here and pass judgment on it.”
“Wow,” I whispered. “You actually believe this is justified.
You think this is noble.”
“Consequences.” Uisdean nodded. “Slaves worry about
intentions, but I am a king. I must weigh the costs and make the hard decisions so that I can get the result I want. If you thought less like a slave and more like a queen, you would see it too. As much as I despise your human blood, you are half sidhe and that half is from a powerful line. You'd do well to claim that power instead of sitting here; whimpering about the way I use mine.”
“I told you,” I snapped, “I'm neither slave nor master. I value strength as well as kindness, power as well as humility, and intention as well as consequence.”
“Impossible.” He shook his head. “You cannot have it both ways.”
“Is it impossible?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Aren't you telling me that you intend to protect your people? I admit that I see that as good, but if you're honest with yourself as well as with me, you'll admit that you also enjoy this. That those screams are music for you and the blood pooling on your pretty floor is turning you on. That is not so good.”
“Yes.” Uisdean was suddenly cheek-to-cheek with me; his hand holding my face still so he could whisper in my ear. “I am enjoying this. The blood. The pain. The screams. It makes my own blood surge with excitement. It makes me feel strong and victorious, and I will probably spend the rest of the evening between the legs of several women to release my excitement. This is our way; the master morality. We know that pleasure is always good, especially if you find it along the path to a happy consequence. Now”—he pulled back so he could look into my eyes—“stop teasing me, little girl, or the legs I spread tonight shall be yours, and we'll find out just who is the master and who is the slave.”
“You're sick,” I whispered as he released me, “and an evil bastard.”
“Words.” Uisdean shrugged and smiled; carefree once
“True words,” I muttered.
I was almost relieved when Bress came to escort me back to my room. I don't know how much more of Uisdean's witty repartee I could take.
As we left the hall, one of our goblin guards grabbed a tortured seelie woman from where she was cowering on the floor and dragged her along behind us. I was troubled and confused by her presence until I saw the large, wooden contraption that had been constructed in the middle of the bedroom while we were at dinner. Then I began to understand.
“What are you doing?” I asked as Bress took the fragile looking fairy from the goblin and lashed one of her wrists to each of the poles; poles which were set into a sturdy, bloodstained base.
Once the fairy was handed off, the goblins left; closing the door behind them with smug, backward glances.
The seelie woman was completely nude; her clothing had been ripped away much earlier in the evening. She had pale, golden skin which had already been cut in numerous places by razor-sharp, obsidian blades. Her thin arms dangled pitifully from the thick ropes and her legs buckled beneath her. On her back was a pair of delicate wings; translucently shimmering peony pink and pea pod green. There were dark brown veins running through them, like dragonfly wings but thicker. One wing was broken and hanging uselessly at her side but the other flopped frantically as if it could carry her away all by itself. She turned huge, chartreuse, frightened eyes toward me, her identically-colored hair falling lankly around her face.
“I asked you what you're doing with that fairy?” I strode forward, and Bress backhanded me.
The attack took me by surprise so I ended up on the floor, but I wasn't there for long. I kicked out at his knee and then
jumped to my feet to face him.
Thunder rumbled through the room—shaking the stone beneath my feet—and I shot a surprised look around me as dark clouds gathered above us. Damn weather magic; I scowled up at the clouds. It was unpredictable and vicious. Which meant I needed to be the same to combat it.
I charged Bress before he could do anything with that burgeoning storm; knocking him to the ground. With my knees digging into his thighs, I began to punch him over and over. It was going pretty well until a lightning bolt hit me in the chest and sent me reeling back.
While my body stiffened and shook through the jolts of electricity coursing through it, Bress picked me up and threw me on the bed. I was helpless to stop him as he closed the manacles around my wrists and when I did recover, I was locked up tight. He undid his belt and then pulled off his beautiful blue tunic so that he stood there clad only in pants. His chest was perfect, as well-muscled as any model's, but it disgusted me. He disgusted me.
That disgust increased as I watched him pull a whip from the chest at the foot of the bed. He began to use it expertly on the poor fairy woman.
“Stop!” I screamed at him. “What do you want? Just tell me what you want and stop hurting her.”
“Oh, sweet Seren.” Bress smiled and wiped the blood from his lips. “You'd best get used to this. This is the only way to arouse me enough to perform. I normally torture my lovers first but since you're heir to a fairy throne, and I can't kill you, I'd rather not take the chance. So, this fairy will take your place, and you will be spared most of my brutality. You should be grateful.”
“Grateful?” I gaped at him.
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at the fairy again. “Grateful.
Good little children are grateful.” He lifted the whip and brought it
down on the fairy's back. Another lash and he paused to close his eyes and shiver. “Good sons do what their mothers tell them to and ask no questions. Isn't that right, Mother?!” He shouted suddenly.
“I have to be strong and cruel and devious and GRATEFUL!” He brought the whip down hard, and the fairy screamed.
I watched Bress spiral out of control and his magic followed suit; condensing into a distressing mass of thunderclouds which roiled across the ceiling, sparking and rumbling like an angry beast. Bress shouted more insanity about his mother, his voice melding with that of the swelling storm, and I prayed silently for help. Tell me what to do. Please, God... Goddess, anyone, help me stop him. Help me save us. Then, suddenly, it came to me; an understanding as if I'd known Bress for all of my life. I knew why he was so angry, what had created the madness and violence in him... and what would quiet the storm.
“My son,” I called in a breathy whisper, and Bress froze; the whip dropping from his startled grip as his whole body tensed.
“Come here.”
“Mother,” he whispered and closed his eyes tightly. “I hate you so much.”
“Why do you hate me?” I asked as the beaten fairy looked over her shoulder at me in shock... and hope.
“You made me like this!” He turned and yelled at me; thunder punctuating his words. “You made me into a monster who has to taste blood before he can taste pleasure. Do you think I wanted to be this way? Why did you make me do those things?
Why couldn't you just love me as I was? I'm your son. Not just his but also yours. I am not my father.”
“I do love you, Bress,” I whispered. “You don't have to do this anymore. Come here and let me hold you.”
“Mother?” He looked straight into my eyes, but I knew he saw her; Moire. I could feel magic shimmering along my skin. I
wondered if I really did look like Moire in that moment.
Dismal, charcoal-black clouds paled to kitten gray and then trailed off into misty fingers. Thunder echoed its last cries as lightning sizzled out like a snuffed candle. The scent of moisture and electricity was blown away by a fresh breeze.
“What have I done?” Bress rushed over and undid the manacles. “Forgive me, Mother. I don't know why I chained you.”
“No, Bress.” I held my arms out to him. “Forgive me, my sweet boy. I've made so many mistakes. I wanted to make you strong enough to survive our family but now I see that I hurt you; crushed the real you beneath my feet. No mother should do that to her child.”
“Mother,” he cried and fell into my lap. “Mother, I didn't mean it. I don't hate you; I love you.”
“I love you too,” I crooned and stroked the hair back from his abused face.
Bress' jaw and the corner of his eye was bruised from my earlier attack and there was still a hint of blood on his lips. It gave me a very satisfied feeling, but I pushed that aside so I could continue impersonating Moire.
“Just relax, sweetheart.” I drew my fingers across his eyes instinctively and felt my magic gather. Stardust fell from my fingertips and drifted over his tumultuous eyes. The lavender dust sank into his irises—sparking once as they settled the storm—and then faded away.
“Seren?” Bress blinked, sat up, and then stared at me calmly. Sanely.
“Bress?” I asked carefully.
“What is this feeling?” He frowned and rubbed his temples.
“He's fairy-struck,” the seelie woman called over to me.
“You have him in thrall, Princess. He will obey you; just speak your commands.”
“He will?” I looked back at Bress, who was staring at me with a peaceful expression. “You will?”
“Will what, Seren?” He smiled softly.
“You will help us escape the Unseelie Court,” I ordered.
“Her and me.” I waved a hand at the tortured fairy. “And you will see us safely to the Twilight Court.”
“Of course, I will.” Bress got to his feet immediately and held a hand out to me. “We must get you two free of this place.
Come!” He threw open the chest and pulled out two cloaks. “Put this on.” He handed me one and then went to the seelie woman.
Bress carefully undid her bonds and caught her when she nearly fell. Gently, he wrapped the cloak around her; angling her wings down her back. Then he lifted her over his shoulder. She whimpered even with his careful movements but then settled against him. I just gaped at Bress as he went to the door, peered out into the hall, and then motioned me forward.
Holy fairy cow, it was working!
“Now, Your Highness!” Bress urged me forward, and I hurried after him.
Bress took us swiftly down a few hallways, pulling back into the shadows every so often when another fairy would walk by.
Then we slunk down some stairs and emerged in a stone room. I peered around it nervously. It seemed to be carved from the mountain itself, with corridors branching off in three directions; one to either side of us and one directly across. I could hear muted conversations coming from the side corridors as well as other
sounds I didn't want to interpret, but Bress led us forward.
The corridor soon became a tunnel and it branched off in several places, but Bress seemed sure of his path, and I continued to follow him through the maze of passages until he eventually led me out onto a moonlit field. I stepped out into the thick grass, took a deep breath of the fresh air, and sighed in relief.
“Wait here, and I'll fetch us a carriage.” Bress put the seelie woman down carefully and then ran off.
“Should we trust him or run?” I asked the woman.
“Oh, he'll return as promised.” She smiled with her swollen lips as I helped her sit up and then leaned her against my chest.
“You're the Twilight Princess aren't you? Only the Twilight King has the ability to render another fairy fairy-struck.”
“You're talking about how fairies can cast an enchantment over humans and make them behave like idiots?” I asked.
“Among other things.” She nodded. “Any sidhe can work that kind of magic on a human but to cast it on a fellow fairy is impossible for all but King Keir. So, you must be the new princess, his half-human daughter.”
“I am.” I waved it aside. “Tell me more about this magic.
You're sure that we can trust it to keep Bress on our side?”
“Yes,” she said gravely. “He will stay under your enchantment until you release him. The magic is called star-crossing and those under its sway are the starry-eyed. It's one of the few magics which can only be undone by the caster.”
“Very witty; starry-eyed.” I chuckled, and she moaned as I accidentally shifted her. “Oh, crap; I'm sorry. What's your name, anyway? I'm Seren.”
“I know who you are, Your Highness.” She smiled bravely
at me. “All of the courts have heard about your homecoming. I am Nighean of the Seelie, and I'm in your debt.”
“Nah, I'm an extinguisher,” I said casually. “We're supposed to protect the peace and save the innocent. It's literally in my job description.”
And I suddenly knew how I'd help the Council... by helping the Fey right there in Fairy. If the Fey were safe here, they wouldn't venture into the Human Realm to cause mischief. Torquil hadn't left in centuries so if all the Fey were as content as he, wouldn't it be the same for them?
“So, that's true as well.” Her eyes fluttered closed. “I'm in good hands then.”
“Nighean?” I felt for the pulse at her neck and it was steady so I relaxed.
She'd be okay, we just had to get her somewhere safe so she could heal. The pounding of hooves vibrating through the earth brought my head up. Then I shook it in amazement when I saw Bress—still bare-chested—driving a carriage straight toward us.
“Thank you,” I whispered into the air and a shiver coasted over my skin; a sign that I was starting to recognize as the presence of something divine. “Thank you, Danu,” I said more firmly, and the feeling intensified; rising inside me until it burst free in a wave of laughter. Who would have thought? When God finally answered my prayers, it was because he was a woman.
Bress pulled the horses to a stop right before us and then jumped down to help Nighean into the carriage. I stood up and put my hands on my hips; watching it all with a smirk.
“Well, damn,” I huffed, “I really am a fairy.”