“What are we going to do now?” Lily asked. She wasn’t sobbing, but her hands shook.
Troy came to stand before her and she felt his eyes on her, but refused to look up. She might tear up if she did. Silence stretched on for a long moment and then he knelt in front of her.
“You handled yourself well,” he said when he caught her attention.
“Fat lot of good that did me. She’s still missing.”
“It did. Look at me. A blunder might have ensnared you with more and more favors in exchange for meager portions of information. You did well guarding your words and ensuring there was no room for misrepresentation of hers. You even succeeded to shield part of your distress until we were out of her domain, and if part of your pain bled through, I cannot blame you. You did well, Lily.”
The words were a meager comfort, but they did make her feel better. Perhaps because Troy was so sparse with praise and so open about her many shortcomings, but it still sparked a spot of warmth in her. On impulse, she slumped forward and let her head rest against his chest.
He started and his body tensed, quivering like a bow strung too tight against her cheek, but he didn’t jerk away. She was grateful. She would have done a pretty amusing face-plant if he had. Instead, he brought his hand to her back, the ghost of a touch that screamed awkward and yet made her choke in emotion.
“I’m not supposed to say thank you,” she said, “but can I say I appreciate you doing this?”
She heard his chuckle and felt the tremor of his body at the same time. It was a good sensation, even if there was still tension lacing it.
“I suppose that would be acceptable.”
“I do, then. And I’m… Eh. I suppose I regret breaking down. Back then. And now. I haven’t really picked myself up yet and I’m making you uncomfortable, aren’t I?”
“Slightly.”
She sat back on her heels and straightened her spine, rubbing her palms over her eyes to dry the lingering wetness and to hide the high color of embarrassment. Strange, that she was embarrassed but not insulted.
“I’m—no, wait. I didn’t mean to.”
“I know. Do not fret over it.”
“It’s just I feel so lost right now. I thought we would know what to do by now. I thought we would be picking Grandma up by now. Instead, we have just been told, what? That this is some issue between people powerful enough to make what I’ve seen so far look like child’s play? There’s no way forward. You told me that I plunged on regardless of danger, but at this point I don’t even know in which direction to plunge.”
Troy shifted from his kneeling position to sit in front of her. He ran a hand through his hair, thoughtful, and Lily noted the way the movement caused small rivulets to run down his neck. It was always wet, his hair, most often than not wet enough to drip, and it didn’t matter if he ran his hands through the black locks like he just had or if he shook his head, not even if he was trapped underground with rocks falling all around him and dust swirling in the hot air. It never dried. It was most curious. She wondered if—
“There is one clear direction forward,” he said. She blinked, surprised, and found him staring at her with an intensity that made her blush. She hadn’t been that obvious while observing him, had she? “But you must be sure that you wish to pursue it before we plan any further,” he continued, purposefully ignoring her mortification.
“Of course I want to keep going,” she said, almost on autopilot. “I’ve come this far, haven’t I?”
“Listen carefully, Lily. Do try to think with your head before making a choice because what comes next is nothing like what you have faced up to now.”
“Nothing at all? Not even a little bit similar?”
“Do not make light of it,” he said even as he cracked a small smile. “The courts of faerie are sweeter and more ruthless than you imagine.”
“Okay. I won’t make fun. Still, fay are fay, aren’t they?”
“Yes and not quite. Here, we follow the rules as they please us and have only our tedium and pride to contend with. The courts make game of adhering to strict codes so that they may circumvent them and their battles for position and favor are never ending. There is no prize for winning and only humiliation for those not playing.”
“Which means I’ll make a fool of myself in five minutes flat.”
“Or worse. And time, since you mention it, might be another issue for you to consider. The courts lie much deeper into our side of the world than my territory goes. If the currents of time run different here, then the thrones of the Queens sit on the shore, untouched by such frivolities as hours or years.”
“How will it affect me?”
“I do not know, but it will affect you in some way. Your mind is not made to ignore time. Still, I believe we can return before that becomes an issue.”
“Where’s the issue then?”
“We can return, but I have no way of knowing or guaranteeing to when.”
“There’s no approximate ratio? Nothing to guide us?”
“No. We may spend a few days in court and return to find a few hours have passed on your side, or a few years.”
“My grandmother could be dead by the time we figure out where she is, who took her or why.”
“Your mother might be dead if luck does not favor us,” he said in quiet tones, driving the point home.
Lily twisted her fingers until her knuckles turned white. She had been ready to face the dangers of traitorous creatures, but time was different. It was inexorable. It didn’t give you a fighting chance. Up to now, everything had happened quickly and whatever trail the faeries left, it had caused people in town to avoid noticing her grandmother’s house lay empty and the both of them were gone. The relationship between her mother and grandmother was strained, so there wouldn’t have been phone calls. Things in Manchester would still be normal. If she chose to continue searching, she might never be able to return to Manchester, to see her mother, her father.
She could turn back now. She knew Troy would keep looking, if only to learn the truth of the matter, and she could go back to her parent’s and tell them… Tell them what? That the bogeyman had taken away Mackenna in the dead of the night? She would have to concoct some story. There would be cops and investigations and questions. Lots of questions she had no answer for. And it didn’t matter, really, because regardless of what she answered and how many times they looked, the authorities would never solve the case. They wouldn’t find her grandmother.
Troy might, but he might also turn from the search once his curiosity over the events was sated. He had never made a secret of the fact that he believed the doctor to be dead or about to die and his motivation, more than saving her, seemed to be understanding what had happened.
So, in fact, she couldn’t turn back. Not really. Not if she wanted to be able to look into a mirror and meet her own eyes. She couldn’t buy a safe life at such a price.
“Warning noted. Also noted that you didn’t really have to give it.” She smiled, a tiny little thing that, she hoped, would tell him thank you when her words shouldn’t. “I’m still going to try. I need to do it. So, what’s this next clear step? I gathered we’re going for the courts… Winter?”
“Winter might have been attempting to help the doctor, but I would not take you to them. It is but the name one mortal poet gave them, but it was bestowed because winter is a time of darkness, of culling, of death. In far older times, it was called the Unseelie, which incidentally is the name the Queen prefers. In modern English, it would translate loosely as ‘unblessed’ and it is a name well earned. We should turn to the Seelie. Heat and fire kill as surely as a blizzard, but I like the chances better.”
“I’m not sure it’s smart to turn to the bad guys. If the redcaps were the good ones…”
“Do not oversimplify, Lily. We do not know the truth yet. How can you pass judgment on whose side was in the wrong? The answer, most likely, is both.”
“Just saying. If winter… the Unseelie court sided with Grandma, won’t they assume we did too?”
“Ah, the Unseelie court sided with the doctor, yes, but who did the doctor side with?”
“This is another mumbo-jumbo of word usage and twisted meaning, isn’t it? Like, you can choose who you ally yourself with but you can’t choose who will ally with yourself?”
“Of course. In short, simple terms, it means that since the doctor is still alive, it is reasonable to assume the Seelie are not quite as sure as you about her being their enemy, so they may consider you a potential asset. Even if they do not, their uses for pretty little mortals include entertainment, pleasure and servitude… They would hardly feed on you.”
Lily felt a wave of nausea at his off-hand comment and, given the way his eyes darted to her and widened, she guessed she must have paled quite a bit.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Really. I just wasn’t expecting to hear the possible bad outcomes spelled out in so many words.”
“Was my choice of words too crass for the lady?” he said with a teasing smirk.
“To be honest, I think you couldn’t be crass if you tried.” When she smiled back, she was surprised to feel the gesture natural in spite of the topic.
Troy’s smirk turned mischievous and his eyes darkened to the murky green of moss and still waters untouched by the sun. “Oh, I assure you I could,” he said.
She blushed. How could she not? In that moment, he wasn’t looking at her as if she were a clueless little mortal girl.
Then, his expression shifted into something more open, less dangerous, and the effect was gone as quick as it had come over her.
“There is another reason that inclines me to think you will find help among the Seelie court,” he continued as if they had never abandoned the topic. “There was a time when one of the knights courted the doctor, and he might feel honor-bound to assist you now.”
Lily opened her mouth and closed it when no words came. An image of her frail-looking, white-haired, wrinkled grandmother being wooed by Legolas was playing over and over in her mind.
“I didn’t need to know that,” she said, closing her eyes to escape the idea and finding the scene burned in the inside of her eyelids.
“On the contrary, you did. It will be one of the few hands you will be able to play at court and it is important that you prepare to win it.”
“Do you know how wrong it is to talk about the romantic interests of your grandmother?”
He gave her a look of genuine innocence. “No?”
“Of course you wouldn’t.” She sighed, rubbing her eyes to try and clear her thoughts again. “Well, it is. Just so you know for future reference.”
“Would it help to know it was sixty-six years ago?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Another sigh. “If it was that long ago, I don’t think he’ll even remember.”
“Such length of time is nothing for a knight of faerie. He will remember and you must make it so that refusing to assist you is not an option. He did claim to love her, so perhaps you should remind him that a love that fades is no true love at all.”
“If he does love her, he should want to help, shouldn’t he?”
Troy gave her a rueful smile and stood up. “Lily, whether he loved her or not is not the question. I doubt he still pines after a mortal woman, and even if his love still held firm, there would be great dishonor in admitting to such longing. The game, for that is what it is, is to make it seem like belying an oath of love would be an even greater dishonor, even if such an oath was given in a moment of passion and to a lesser being.” He reached out a hand to help Lily up. “Now come. Let us make for the clearing. It is more comfortable there, and in the morrow, we will make for the Seelie court.”
Lily didn’t take his hand. She stared at him.
“Lesser being?”
“Do not take offense in truth, Lily,” he said, not dropping his hand. “Humans live fleeting lives, are blind to the reality around them, fail to remember their past, and cannot even foresee the consequences of striking poor bargains in their future. That there are a few bright, extraordinary individuals does not change the fact.”
Finally, Lily closed her fingers over his and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She didn’t reply, though, because she found she didn’t know what to say. Longevity was a point, she supposed. Immortality had always been a mark of the divine. With that much experience behind them, it was logical they would find it easy to twist words and situations like expert politicians and chess players all wrapped in one sharp, quicksilver mind. To such a mind, a human must seem almost like a child. He was right, she guessed.
Still, when she followed him to the clearing she had come to think of as his home, she did feel less like a child and more like dirt.