Siofra departed the tree shop. She didn’t even feel like exploring the different doors to see where they went.
“I want to go home,” she told Lysander when he followed behind her.
“Your village?”
What else could she mean?
“I’ve been gone a long while, and I don’t know how much time has passed for Lady Gretchen. She’ll worry.”
Siofra shifted so she could see the giant tree that wanted to become her pet. This close, she could see the shop was actually attached to the tree, rather, the shop was inside the tree, not just in front of it. “I appreciate the leaves,” she told it, “but I don’t know what you want me to do with them.”
Of course, there was no answer, but more leaves flew toward her. She sighed and opened her bag. In for a penny…
She refrained from looking at Lysander as they walked toward the bridge. “You know, in my world, a lady who spent this much time with a gentleman would be ruined or forced to marry him. Perhaps I should remain at home for a while.”
“You’re afraid.” He grabbed her satchel and placed it over his shoulder. “I understand how the things you’ve learned today could make you…hesitant…to further explore, but it’s not as if you’ll—”
“Die? Yes, it is.”
“I was going to say it’s not as if you’ll be trapped here forever. I can always return you.”
“Meantime, Lady Gretchen has been dead for a hundred years. The brownies have taken over my home or it’s been given to some laird. My inheritance will have crumbled to dust as well. There will be nothing to return to.” She rounded on him, flinging her arms about, narrowly avoiding a tiny creature that resembled a cat with very large ears and no tail. “I ask questions because I want to learn the truth of fey, but I have read the fairy tales. If I go off on a lark with you, my life at home will cease to exist. And have you considered the consequences of me going without food and water? Death, again.”
He captured her hands in his and held them against his chest. “Siofra Blàrach,” he whispered so quietly she wondered if she’d really heard it. “I will not let that happen to you.”
“There, you’ve done it. Don’t make vows you can’t keep.”
He dropped one hand to reach out and trace the hair falling into her face and tuck it behind one ear. “My life would be dreary indeed were I to lose you. Why not spend it on behalf of my greatest treasure?”
She could only gape at him. Did he realize what he was saying? For her, such language indicated more than friendship.
“So…” He took her hand again. “Where shall we venture?”
“You are completely disregarding the panic of Lady Gretchen when I do not return tonight.”
“On the contrary, I am trusting the brownies at your abode to render a glamour of your likeness for the duration of our travels.” He grinned at her, revealing a row of even white teeth. “She will probably be even more satisfied, as the brownie will not leave her company to go wandering.”
“You truly are a brute.” She tugged her hands loose. Too much of that, and she really would swoon at his feet. “Well, then, I demand a quest. To the Seelie court we go, to discover my parentage.”
“You are certain this is the course upon which you wish to embark.”
“It is.”
“Then I will indulge you. I only hope you aren’t disappointed.”
“Apparently, I will always have you.”
“Indeed.”
Within ten minutes, they stood before a door of especially golden hue.
“What does the Unseelie door look like?” Siofra asked the Keeper. “Is it midnight blue?”
“Call me Daire. Everyone does.” She pointed across the room. “Today, it is that sparkling silver door. Winter is not just about darkness. Are there not features that sparkle with allure?”
Another one of those vague truths. What could she divine from this one? Not everything at the Unseelie Court wanted to kill her?
“Are you ready?” Lysander beckoned her attention to himself. “We can always visit a nice waterfall.”
“What would be the mystery in that? Onward, sir. Adventure awaits.”
Lysander dropped something in Daire’s outstretched hand, and the door swung wide on silent hinges. Siofra would have been much happier if the open doorway afforded a view of what awaited on the other side, but she stepped forward, holding tightly to Lysander’s arm.
On the other side, she quickly dropped his arm. “It’s nothing but a forest, as if I never left the Forbidden Wood.”
“Maybe to you.” He waved a hand before her eyes, and Siofra suddenly saw a golden hind, feeding on the leaves of a mist-shrouded tree. “You didn’t think the queen would allow someone to slip through a door to the center of her court? She’s much more cautious than that, but I know of someone who might arrange an interview.”
“How long will we have to walk?”
“Tired already?”
“I may have been walking more of late, but that is not the normal pastime with ladies of the ton.”
“Come along. If we stay here too long, we will attract unwanted attention.”
Siofra followed Lysander, looking back to examine the door. It was no longer there, and she couldn’t tell where it had been. “Why are you able to see things I can’t…until you let me see them?”
“As the Steward, I have cancellation magic. It nullifies enchantments of those who wish to invade the boundary or do harm to those who live near it. I cannot cancel everything. When I’m in a situation that doesn’t concern the boundary, and I’m far from it, I can only cancel low-level magic, but I can lessen the effect of all magic.”
They walked along in near silence for several minutes until Siofra noted small twinkling lights hovering and darting amidst the trees and grasses. “You remember telling me not to leave the path? And those twinkling light things?”
“Will-o’-the-wisp. Very dangerous.”
“Not that I don’t think you haven’t noticed, but…they’re everywhere. Do we ignore them?”
“Just don’t follow them. Though you can’t see it, we’re still on the path.”
Siofra hastened her steps to get closer to Lysander.
“How are people expected to stay on an invisible path?”
“It’s not invisible to the fey.” He cocked his head enough to see her and grabbed her hand. “This passage is very much the point of the door not opening upon the court. Our ability to navigate this path and deal honorably with the challenges we face will determine whether or not we actually find the Seelie Court.”
When she didn’t comment, he squeezed her hand. “Grand adventure. Remember?”
“I don’t suppose I could reconsider?”
When he chuckled and continued walking, Siofra felt she’d gotten her answer.
This forest, that might not be a forest at all, was becoming less peaceful by the moment. Gloomy. Dark. Heavy. It may have been early morning when she left home, but what time of day was it here?
The will-o’-the-wisps grew bolder, flying so near her face she could see wings and bodies, though not facial features. They didn’t seem to bother Lysander as much, but he could be fairly terrifying himself. Could they feel his magic and her lack?
She needed Mrs. Sgot’s remedies.
“Wait. I have to get something.”
“Don’t—”
The moment she dropped Lysander’s hand, he disappeared, or did she disappear?
Swarms of the blinking creatures surrounded her like a living cloud. She felt nicks of pain on her arms, her neck, and when they pinched her face, she closed her eyes to protect them and dropped to the ground. She needed to open her satchel quickly.
She was grateful for one thing, with so many of the creatures flying around, she could see inside the satchel. She plunged her hand inside, rummaging through the different articles until she found the pixie cures. One by one, she waved them in front of her, primrose, rowan wood, marigold, the four-leaf clover, and the St. John’s wort, but the blasted pests merely lighted on her arm and continued to pinch her.
She yanked at a piece of straw and held it aloft. Instantly, the rampage around her ceased as the creatures focused on the straw. She waved it slightly, and the swarm moved with the straw.
She could have cried with relief.
With the straw raised in one hand, she used her other hand to gather the implements she’d dropped on the ground, casting anxious glances at the will-o’-the-wisps. She found the St. John’s wort, the marigold, and primrose, but not the piece of rowan wood or the four-leaf-clover.
She wasn’t leaving without them, so she lowered the straw, and wispies, to bring more light to the ground. Ah hah! The four-leaf-clover was under the edge of her boot with the rowan wood beside it.
But what was that! One of her Tree leaves had fallen, unnoticed. Around it, the ground was a different color and texture. Like a path!
She placed all her treasures back in the bag but withdrew all the leaves. No sooner had she placed another leaf to the ground than the area around it also changed color.
She dropped the entire bundle on the dark dirt, and the path emerged from the darkness. Had her leaves broken the spell? Where was Lysander?
With slow movements and straw held aloft, she lifted the leaves and replaced them inside the satchel. When she picked up the last leaf, she waited, breath held, but the path remained visible.
Thanks be to God!
Once Siofra felt certain the path wasn’t going to vanish, she continued with ever-quickening steps. The wispies remained right with the straw, effectively lighting her way, but the idea of losing Lysander unsettled her. Where was he? Had his touch on her hand prevented the magic from affecting her as much? He might even be able to see her this moment. Or hear her!
“Lysander, if you’re near, I’m going to follow this path until…I have no idea what comes next because…You. Didn’t. Tell. Me.” She huffed, hurrying onward to nothing. “When I find my mother, you can be certain I will tell her of this. Men! Why do they think women don’t need to know? I, for one, am certain women are much better navigators than men. My own father would get lost on the way to London…unless we took a driver.”
She slowed slightly to study either side of the path, but it was pitch darkness away from the wispies. A cold shiver traveled across her arms down the length of her sleeves. Why hadn’t she thought to bring a wrap? England was cold and misty enough, but this?
“I’m cold, Lysander. You might have warned me. Cold is not an adventure.”
Now that the wispies were occupied with the straw, she appreciated their proximity for their light and the hum of their wings. Without Lysander to talk to, her world would have been silent.
“I hope we’re headed somewhere. I’m hungry. I brought my own food and water, but I’m afraid to stop. Not without you. If those will-o’-the-wisps lose interest in this piece of straw, I’m done for.”
Her sense of isolation was increasing as was her level of anxiety.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to keep talking so I won’t feel so alone. I wondered why you wear a glamour. Is it because you’re so beautiful? I’ve heard all the Sidhe are exceptionally beautiful, so I suppose you don’t even care. Is it because you’re hiding? Or is it because you don’t want all the fey around the boundary to know who you really are, or that you’re not just fey, you’re Sidhe.” She took several quick steps, considering that. “But I don’t really know you’re high Sidhe. I’m guessing because of your looks. You’ll have to forgive me for that. It’s an appalling fixture in the ton. One’s appearance means everything. So, I don’t mean to natter on about it, but it was unexpected. Truth be told, you took my breath away.” What was she thinking? Never spill your heart to an invisible man. “Could you forget I said that?”
“And why would I do that? I am completely beautiful,” a smooth deep voice spoke from the shadows. Definitely not Lysander.
Utter terror struck Siofra, and she started to run until she realized she would overrun her wispies and could inadvertently veer from the path.
“Where are we running?” asked the voice, from much closer.
“The…the Seelie Court.” Maybe her destination would lend some weight to her journey.
“To dance? I dearly love to dance. What were you saying about my beauty?”
Something rubbed against her leg, and Siofra jerked to look. There was nothing on either side.
“Pardon me, but we haven’t been introduced. Who are you?”
The voice chuckled, like the sound of music and silk. “That would be telling.”
She felt something brush against her arm and yanked away. “We can’t have a proper conversation if you don’t tell me.”
“Why would anyone want to have a proper conversation when improper dialogue is much more entertaining. Don’t you agree?”
“I cannot. I find it important to be able to identify one’s companions…so I don’t forget their beauty.”
He chuckled again. “A nice attempt, but you will never forget my beauty.”
A Satyr joined the path beside Siofra, flicking his tail around her as if to herd her toward him.
She pulled away then remembered the path. It was still in front of her, and the wispies were still engaged with the straw. But how did she get rid of a giant horse with the torso of a man? He towered beside her and could easily overpower and run away with her.
The satyr reached for her satchel. “Let me carry that for you.”
“You are most kind, but I prefer to accomplish my tasks with my own strength.” She switched the bag to her other shoulder and slipped her hand inside. “A quest, you see.”
“Ah, a quest. No quest is complete without a dance in the forest with friends. You would dearly love my friends.”
Siofra could not imagine that she would. Already, the satyr’s hot breath against her cheek made her extremely uncomfortable, as did his continuous efforts to corral her in a different direction.
“My own friends are waiting for me, and you know it’s impolite not to keep your word.” He reached out, and she ducked from under his arm. “If you won’t tell me your name, I’ll have to give you one. How about Duane?”
“An insult! Do I truly look small to you?”
Siofra pretended to consider. “Donagh.”
“Better. I would rather be a warrior than small, but you lack imagination.”
“Baoithín, then.”
“It’s true. I’m often reckless, and who wouldn’t be vain with a countenance such as mine?”
Siofra grinned. She had won. “We are in agreement, Baoithín. Now that I have your name, you can tell me where this path is going.”
“I did not agree to aid your quest.”
“Really? You said I had spoken truly when I named you, so you owe me a boon.”
He snorted angrily and flicked his tail against her face. Siofra ducked but grabbed the end of his tail and snipped it off with her scissors.
“What have you done?” He roared but it came out as more of a goat bleating. “You treacherous fiend!”
Siofra gaped at him, now shorter than her shoulder and in a goat’s body. Even his head and face had shrunk. He bleated at her again and tried to ram her.
She held up the scissors. “I will cut off the remainder of your tail if you don’t leave right now. We agreed on a name. I have named you, Baoithín, and I offered you the opportunity to serve me by giving direction. You have refused, so you will leave…or suffer the consequences.”
His arm snaked out and grabbed her straw. Siofra shrieked, but the will-o’-the-wisps were gone. She was in total darkness.
The clop of his hooves signaled the departure of the satyr-turned-faun.