The troll entered, his eyes traveling from the small chairs to his mammoth frame. He crossed the room to stand next to the fireplace and swiveled to face them.
When Lysander broke his glamour, the troll grew much more presentable and much smaller. There were hardly any blemishes left on his face, compared to the wealth of warts on the glamour. His brown eyes were wide, his nose a small pug, his teeth even instead of jagged and fanged. If not for his still considerable size, he could be human. Why did he wear such a fierce, ugly glamour? Siofra would ask Lysander later.
“State your appellation and origin,” Lysander said.
“Call me Weivel. I’ve a bridge near the queen’s castle.”
“Why were you in the shop?”
His cheeks turned bright red against his greyish skin. “I…I was weighing in my gold for a new…glamour.”
“You look lovely,” Siofra said. “Why do you need a new glamour?”
“No one is afraid of a troll bridge what looks lovely.” As he muttered the words, his eyes remained on the floor.
Mystery solved. He needed to look ferocious in order to maintain fear. How had a plain-looking troll gotten such a job?
“You were the first to cry out when Daire was stabbed.” Lysander’s voice held no hint of censure. “Did you see what happened?”
“I didn’t see anything but dust, fairy dust everywhere. Do you know how difficult it is to get fairy dust out from under your nails?”
Siofra couldn’t help a glance at his long fingers. The nails were longer still, most cracked and broken. Was there a slight sparkle?
“Indeed, such a trial. Who knocked it over?” she asked.
“No idea. Couldha’ been me. I was minding my gold one second, wearing fairy dust, the next.”
“That will be all.” Lysander waved him out then strode to the fireplace himself. He walked back and forth before the mantle.
“What do you make of all the stories?” Siofra asked.
“If only we knew which was accurate. We should visit the queen’s court soon. At the very least, we could eliminate her secretary. If we delay, Daire’s signature will evaporate.”
“Are brownies usually good at recognizing the other races?”
“I wouldn’t have said so, but maybe that’s because it never comes up. They are attuned to their work, so they would recognize anything or anyone that affects it. She may be perfectly correct.”
“If she is, the bard is mostly definitely not a human, which means he was sent to the humans, not the other way around.” Siofra tapped her toe as she read her notes. “You say he might have brought back a piece of Lia Fal. What could he use it for? He has no claim to any crown.”
“You may recall I mentioned intrigue at court and that my father wishes to reunite the Sidhe.”
“Yes. His symbol is that broken crown.”
“Not just a symbol. He has half of Nuada’s crown. The crown is supposed to give the wearer the power to unite both courts and take the powers from the queen and the king, so the Lia Fal, or Stone of Destiny, would scream he’s a true king of Ireland when he stands on it.”
“Even just a piece of the stone?”
Lysander’s face twisted in a wince. “Hard to say. Perhaps Lìos believes that. Nuada’s crown was cleaved in two when he died. Half the crown was taken by the Fomorians, the other half is hidden in the Unseelie Tower. But my father is always changing the location of the Tower.”
“What if that’s what they were arguing about? The door that leads to the Unseelie Tower. If the brownie didn’t recognize the race of the bard, perhaps he’s Fomorian. Didn’t they have magic?”
“And if he has half the crown and the Lia Fal, he just needs my father’s half. My father is in danger.” Lysander rushed to the door.
“Wait! We don’t know that. We’re only guessing. The brownie said they argued about glamours.”
“Fomorians would need a powerful glamour to fool my father, but he would probably let one in, regardless. It’s not as if the Fomorians have been a threat for thousands of years.”
“Do we interrogate the queen’s servant or go to your father? It sounds like Lìos was lying about there being another person present. If he’s not fey, maybe he can lie. And what will you do with all those witnesses? If Lìos is Fomorian, will your magic keep him here?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t fought me yet because he thinks he’s fooled us.”
“If we rush off to the Unseelie Court, he’ll know you suspect, and he might get away.”
“And we need the other half of the crown.”
A loud pop brought them out of their seats. Lysander rushed into the other room. The gnome was lying on the floor, as was Greum. The brownie still sat in her chair, but she leaned to the side with her hands on her ears and her face pinched in pain. The troll stared into space like a man in a trance. There was no sign of Lìos.
Lysander reached Greum first. He rolled him over and patted his shoulder. “Greum, are you alright? Greum!”
The dwarf blinked several times, then his eyes scrunched shut. “Owww, me head. It was Lìos. He was completely still then his head jerked to the room where you were talking. He jumped up and threw something on the floor. Did he get away?”
Siofra was already peering out the door. “He isn’t in the streets. I’ll check the shop.”
“You can’t get inside. It’s magicked with a barrier.”
“I’ll look through the window.”
There were a few fey in the street, so Siofra approached them. “Did anyone notice where the bard went?”
But no one had even seen him exit the building.
When she reached the shop, she tried the door anyway. It opened. Once inside, she found every realm door hanging open to darkness, and Daire’s body missing. Somehow, Lìos had broken the barrier and escaped through a door, but which one?
She related the results of her search to Lysander, and he returned to the shop with her. “You need not worry about Daire. The nymphs have taken her home. But this…” He waved a hand at the shop door. “This is alarming. No one should be able to break my barrier or wrest open the doors without a Keeper.”
“Apparently the Fomorians have a fair amount of magical ability. Lysander, if they start a war…”
“I will tell you something. There were four relics of power left by Tuatha Dé Danann—the stone to proclaim the true king, a sword that killed every time it struck, a slingshot that never missed, and a cauldron that never ran out of food.”
“No wonder they were difficult to defeat.”
“A sword can only be used by one man at a time, the same with a slingshot. The cauldron and the slingshot were lost, probably to decay. The stone was left in the human world when the Tuatha Dé Danann became the Sidhe. The sword…” Lysander took a deep breath. “The sword, I melted down and made into a knife.” He patted his waist where he always wore a silver knife. “And a ring.”
Siofra raised her hand, staring. “This ring? This ring once had the power to strike down anyone that opposed the holder of the sword? What about your knife? Does it still have that power?”
“It has never failed me, but I have a very good aim.”
Siofra stood and walked away from Lysander. “So…you made the knife and the ring?”
“Yes, then I asked your mother for your hand, in order to unite us before my father could put his plan into action to rule both courts.”
“That only makes your father’s case stronger.”
“No, Siofra. I don’t want to rule. My father can’t use me against your mother or any other fey. That’s why I live here. I steward the free fey and keep peace between all the realms.” He came up behind her and put his hands on her arms. “I thought we could do this together. Admittedly, I never anticipated the tree would choose you as the Keeper, but…”
“It would be ideal,” she said.
“Yes.” He dropped her arms. “But right now, we must act. I see no reason to question the queen’s servant, but we must inform my father.”
“Right. If what we think is true, why bother with the servant? Even if he’s the murderer and involved in this plot, your father should know immediately that someone intends to steal his half of the crown. Of course, I could go to the Seely Court and you could go to your father.”
“We will not separate. It’s too dangerous for you, and you don’t have the knowledge to inspect the servant for traces of the Keeper. But we could speak to my father through the mirror.”
“A mirror? Perhaps we could also speak to the queen.” Siofra still had a difficult time accepting the queen as her mother. She studied the open doorways. “Lysander, if we do find the bard, is there a way to bind a Fomorian? Iron?”
“Not iron. When the Milesians defeated the Tuatha Dé Danann, they used superior weapons, weapons of iron that brought the downfall of Tuatha Dé Danann and the curse of iron. What you fear grows until it overtakes you. Now, all the fey are afraid of iron and weakened by its presence.”
“And the Fomorians?”
“No one knows. Those who survived the battle settled near Connaught. In some instances, they intermarried with the Tuatha Dé Danann. It was thought they passed into legend in the human world.”
“Lysander, there has to be someone who knows how to defeat the Fomorians. We’ve got to speak with your father.”
“It might be possible to contact him through the door, since they’re all open.”
“Which one is it?”
“Only the Keeper knows. We have but one attempt. If we choose wrongly, all the doors will close.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “I suggest you select the door.”
Siofra looked at the five doors. Were there only five other realms in Faerie? “Are you saying there are only five places you can go in Faerie?”
“There are an infinite number of places to go, but there is only one Seelie door, one Unseelie door. Choose a door then tell it where you want to go. Only Daire knew which door was attached to which kingdoms, and she randomly varied their destinations so no ever knew but her.”
“I see.” Siofra walked up and down the line of doors. She supposed she could ask the tree to show her, but she wasn’t yet sure she wanted that attachment, so she asked the Lord to guide her, then she stopped at the next to last door. “It’s this one, or I’m completely useless at this.”
“Tell the door we want to see the throne room of the Unseelie Tower.”
Siofra spoke the words, and immediately, she and Lysander could see the room where she’d met the king. There were all manner of fey and creatures wandering past, but the moment the king noted the presence of Lysander and Siofra, he held up his hands and the room froze, even those who had been in motion.
“Lysander, what is the meaning of this?” He left his throne and walked closer.
Would Lysander take Siofra through the door? How would they get back?
“Don’t touch the door, Siofra, we will merely speak with my father.”
“Lysander!” the king yelled.
“Father, I regret to inform you that the Keeper has been murdered. You likely have already come by that information. What you may not know is that the bard Lìos Lothian who traveled the lands, was not the human he claimed to be nor the elf he appeared in a glamour.” Lysander took a breath, watching the king. “I believe he is the murderer. I also believe he is Fomorian and using magic to infiltrate your court and steal the crown. Father, he says he went to Tara as a changeling. I’m sure you can see the danger.”
The king’s hand rose to his mouth, and he turned to the side. When he looked back up, he nodded. “Have you told the queen?”
“We have not. Though, it is imperative that all kingdoms be on their guard. If the Fomorians are once again challenging us for our lands…”
“Lìos Lothian must be found. I will speak with the queen and the shadow court.”
“We need information,” Siofra said. “Do you have a library that chronicles the old lineages and events? Perhaps we could find a weakness of the Fomorians.”
As usual, the king glared at her, then turned his face to Lysander. “The queen has such a library of annals in the southern duchy. For now, I’m moving the Tower and locking the door. If you need to speak with me, use the mirror.”
Lysander bowed, and the door went dark. Siofra closed the door and looked at the others. “Would it be easier for us to visit the southern duchy? We don’t know exactly which annals we’ll need.”
“Siofra, I hesitate to leave the border with the Keeper gone.”
“But we’ve got to read the annals. Surely, someone wrote something about the Fomorians.” Siofra crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s no wonder Lìos made such a good bard. He’s probably been gathering information for…for however long he’s been here.”
“What if we had the origin annals brought here? The queen would do it for you.”
“That would be easier.”
As it was, the queen’s most trusted servant traveled through a door, magically depositing pile after pile of books and manuscripts.
Siofra sighed. How would she ever know which to read? Worse, they were written in ancient dialects and fey languages she’d never seen.
The servant set the last pile beside her chair, and bowed. “These records have been magicked to allow you to read, regardless the language. Her majesty wishes you the best of luck and continued well-being.”
“Offer her my hope for her happiness and long rule.” Siofra smiled at him, hoping she’d said something adequate. “Before you go, I wanted to let you know that Lìos accused you of leaving the queen’s court to come and speak with the Keeper. It seemed ridiculous to me because you were with us in the Queen’s court when Greum told Lysander about Daire’s death. But I also know you’re more than capable of using magic to whisk yourselves around. So…did you have anything to do with the death of Daire, the Keeper?”
“I did not, Your Highness,” he said with a perfectly straight face.
She never expected him to address her with a royal title, but she’d consider that later. “I know you can’t lie, so I had to ask. Just to be certain, did you at any time visit Daire today?”
“I did not leave the Seelie Court, your highness.”
“You relieve my mind a great deal. If the queen had been involved in this…”
“Your mother is not involved in the death of the Keeper or in a plot to overthrow the Unseelie king.”
“Your help is greatly appreciated.” Siofra stared at his solemn face. “I’d like to have a long talk with my mother someday. Do you…do you think she would be amenable to such an endeavor?”
At last, he smiled. “She has looked forward to spending time with you for a long time. All your life, in fact.”
A huge weight fell off Siofra’s mind. Somehow, she could get to know the queen as a mother. She smiled at the servant. “You know, it would be much easier if I could call you something.”
“The queen calls me Guaire.”
“Guaire, please call me Siofra.”
He smiled, dipping his head, then he vanished.