Now she understood.
“Can you walk faster?” Liam asked without turning around to look at them. “As long as we are out in neutral territory, we are at risk.”
Winnie and Mel exchanged a nervous look.
“Of course,” Winnie told him.
They did pick up their pace. As they hurried through the forest, Mel couldn’t take her eyes off his back. Imagining, wondering if Winnie’s description was accurate. And wondering if she would ever get the chance to see for herself.
The trek seemed to take forever. And Liam was obviously on high alert the entire way. Every little noise in the forest around them sent him either reaching for his blade or shifting into his ainmhi. Each time, Mel’s heart raced a little faster. Partly from fear, but also from the little thrill she got each time he reacted in order to protect them.
Mel had spent her whole life protecting others. Protecting her mom from herself, protecting Winnie from the mean girls at school. She had never had someone so steadfastly devoted to protecting her.
She didn’t usually like to think of herself as the kind of girl who needed—or wanted—protection. But still, she couldn’t stop the shiver of thrill that tickled over her skin.
Liam slowed his pace as they finally reached what had to be the very deepest heart of the forest.
“What’s wrong?” Mel asked.
“Nothing,” Winnie said, stepping forward to stand next to Liam. “This is the veil.”
Winnie’s hands shook a little.
“It’s protected by dark magic,” she was explaining. “You’ll feel an overwhelming amount of fear, but it’s only—”
But Mel stopped listening. Something like the sensation she’d felt when she touched Liam, a kind of sparkling light, was pulling at her. Tugging her closer and closer to the veil Winnie was talking about.
This must be what a siren’s call feels like.
Without another thought, Mel crossed through the veil.
Chapter 6
Winnie turned her big green eyes on Liam, raising her eyebrows in question. She whispered, “She didn’t even hesitate.”
No, she had not. Melania had crossed through the barrier without a moment’s thought. He had seen humans approach the edge of the veil. The dark magic of fear that surrounded the fae realm sent most running the other way long before they were even close.
Most humans, even Winnie, could never fully overcome the fear—even with the help of spells and talismans.
“She has the blood of a fae god,” he said.
“But, but—” Winnie turned to face her friend. “You walked right through.”
Melania shrugged, as if she didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.
“Certain rules of magic may not apply to her,” Liam suggested.
Winnie lifted the pendant that hung around her neck, a fox stamped into a small silver disc. The enchanted charm that allowed friends of the clan to pass through more easily.
“Even with this, I’m still shaking like a leaf.” She held out her hand to show her friend the truth of the statement. “That is so not fair.”
“Yay, perks,” Melania said with a tone that contradicted her words.
He studied her for a moment. There was something unusual about her—more than just the fact that she was a fae demigoddess. Perhaps it was her attitude. After the numerous shocking revelations and threats she had faced this day, none would have faulted her for turning tail and fleeing from the entire situation.
Instead, she agreed to come with them, to go further into a world of mystery and danger.
That kind of bravery was extraordinary. It was…refreshing.
“So how much farther to this palace?” Mel asked. “We’re approaching my maximum exercise tolerance for an entire year here.”
“Not far,” Winnie said.
Liam felt her worry fading into relief as they, too, crossed into the veil.
Though Liam’s magic had appreciated the boost he received from Winnie’s concern, the guilt far outweighed the charge. The guilt of benefiting from his future queen’s distress. The guilt of what he had once done to benefit from another human’s negative emotions. That night weighed heavy on his conscience. The memory of it kept him from ever seeking out the magical boost that so many others entered the human realm to find.
He would rather his magic dry up altogether than experience that again.
They followed the meandering path toward the palace. As they moved deeper into Moraine territory, the tension in his shoulders eased, along with his guilt. He knew that nowhere was truly safe from Ultan’s clutches. But being within his home territory made him feel as though he had the advantage.
At that palace entrance, he parted ways with the girls. Winnie set out to show Melania to the chamber that would be hers for the duration, and he made his way to the prince’s office.
Cathair would want a report on what had happened, and Liam wanted to hear about the operation to rescue the younger prince.
He knocked twice on the door and was immediately invited in.
The prince sat behind a massive stone desk the size of a small bed. The surface was covered with stacks of yellowed maps and dusty volumes flipped open to pages about ancient rituals and information about the Dark Clan.
Tearloch Donne, Captain of the Royal Guard, stood at one end of the desk, leaning over a map of the wasteland between the Deachair and the Urthail where Ultan had been holding Prince Aedan hostage.
When Liam and Winnie left to find Melania, the younger prince had just been located and the rescue operation was underway.
Both men, fae whom Liam counted among his closest friends, looked up at his entrance.
“Is the Aedan safe?” he asked without preamble.
The look of relief on Prince Cathair’s face said it all. “Yes. My mother is with him now.”
Liam felt something loosen around his chest. Since the moment they discovered that Aedan was missing, he had been worried. As they all had been. Being older than him, Liam, Cathair and Tearloch often looked after the younger prince. They never said the words, but his was their responsibility.
If the mission to bring the fae god’s daughter into the realm had not been so urgent, Liam would have insisted on leading the rescue operation himself.
And likely would have had to fight the other two fae for the position.
“Is he well?” Liam asked.
Cathair’s eyes darkened. “He is…whole.”
The prince left something unsaid.
But before Liam could ask further, Tearloch asked, “And the daughter of Belemus?”
Liam nodded. “Within the palace walls.”
The other two exchanged a look of relief. Tearloch moved around the desk and collapsed into one of the chairs. Liam well understood their relief. For the first time since learning of Ultan’s treachery—when he tried to kill Prince Cathair and ignite a war between the Moraine and the Deachair—it felt like they might actually be ahead of the traitor.
Unfortunately, Ultan had more tricks up his evil sleeve.
“There was an incident,” Liam said, crossing to stand behind the other chair that faced the desk.
Cathair frowned. “What kind of incident?”
“Ultan.”
Cathair speared him with an fiery look. The prince rarely showed signs of violent emotion, but at this mention of the traitor’s name he looked ready to kill. Not that Liam blamed him.
“He was there?” Tearloch asked.
“Yes,” Liam replied. “In Melania’s home.”
“And you did not capture him?” Cathair demanded.
Tearloch scoffed. “You did not kill him?”
Liam did not take offense at the accusatory tone. Had their positions been reversed, he would have demanded the same.
“His magic…” Liam began. “He has magics I have never seen before.”
“Like what?” Cathair asked, his tone uneasy.
“He attacked in ainmhi form. And yet my sword c
ould not penetrate his flesh.”
Tearloch shook his head. “How is that possible?”
“I know not,” Liam replied. “But his presence at Melania’s home does not bode well.”
“This means that he has already discovered the key to resurrecting the Dark Clan,” Tearloch said.
Cathair winced. “Which means he will come for Mel again.”
“And again and again,” Liam added. “I believe he only backed down today because he was outnumbered. He was unprepared to face more than Melania herself. He will not stop until he has what he wants.”
Tearloch clenched his hands into fists. “We will not allow him to succeed.”
“No,” Liam agreed.
Whatever it took, Ultan had to be stopped. He could not be allowed to succeed. Liam would do whatever necessary, as would the other two fae.
“We need to plan for his return,” Tearloch said. “It could come at any time.”
Cathair nodded. “We should consult the queen on this matter.”
“Should we call the council?” Tearloch asked.
Liam tensed. The Morainian Royal Council was highly contentious and often unpredictable. And for all they knew, had been infiltrated by one or more of Ultan’s operatives.
“I think not,” Cathair replied, looking as troubled as Liam felt about the council. “Let me go check on Winnie and Mel, then I will see if my mother is up to a meeting.”
The prince pushed to his feet.
“My prince, I promised Melania we would send a security detail to her home.” Liam could not quite meet Cathair’s gaze. “She is quite concerned for her mother’s safety.”
“Tearloch can see to that,” the prince told him. “I imagine you require some rest after your long journey.”
He didn’t dare tell the prince that Winnie’s worry had charged his magic so fully that he felt as if he wouldn’t sleep for a week.
“Actually,” Liam replied. “I would like to check in on Aedan.”
Cathair did not hide his smile. “Of course. Why don’t you come with me to check on the girls, and then we can all meet in Aedan’s chamber in half an hour.”
All agreed, and the three went their separate ways.
Chapter 7
Since the moment they crossed into what Winnie called the veil, Mel felt like she’d walked into a static electricity storm. Every hair on her body tingled. Her skin prickled like someone had just run their fingernails down her neck.
And the strangest thing was, she somehow knew exactly what was going on.
Magic.
It floated in the air within the veil, patiently waiting for someone to come by and call it into action. And though Mel couldn’t explain why or how, for some reason the magic seemed to collect around her. Drawn to her like iron filings to a magnet.
The idea both terrified and thrilled her.
If she hadn’t believed Winnie before, now she really couldn’t deny the truth that the fae realm actually existed. And that she was somehow part of it.
“So, tell me again how you found out your stories were true?” Mel asked her best friend. “Oh right, you haven’t told me yet. How long have you known?”
Winnie winced and for a second Mel felt bad for taking the jab at her best friend. She supposed if she was in Winnie’s position, she would find it hard to tell anyone about all of this.
Heck, if she was in Winnie’s position, she would probably want to keep every last bit of this magic world to herself. She understood why Winnie hadn’t told her.
Until Winnie said, “A few weeks.”
Mel didn’t feel bad anymore.
“ A few weeks? And you didn’t tell me?”
“I…” Winnie shook her head. “I didn’t know how.”
“Maybe, Hey, guess what? My stories aren’t made up.” Mel suggested. “Or even, I just found out that magic is real.”
“I wanted to, I just—”
“In situations like this,” Mel continued as if Winnie hadn’t spoken, “I think straightforward really is the best option.”
“I wanted to,” Winnie repeated. “You have no idea how much I wanted to.”
“You’re right. I have no idea.”
“Until yesterday, until we found out that you’re the daughter of a fae god,” Winnie explained, “I thought you’d think I was crazy.”
“I already think you’re crazy,” Mel argued.
Winnie gave her a small smile. “Okay, so maybe I was too embarrassed to tell you.”
“Too embarrassed?” Mel jerked back. “Why?”
Winnie shrugged. Right then, she looked so much like the scared little girl who had walked into Mrs. Cohen’s second grade class. Wide-eyed, with dirt on her cheek and a tear in the hem of her yellow dress. Even at seven years old, Mel’s protective instinct had been strong. She had gone up to Winnie at recess and promised to be her friend for life. She hadn’t said it out loud, but she had also promised herself to do whatever it took to keep Winnie from looking so scared ever again.
“You know I love you no matter what.” When Winnie still didn’t answer, Mel prodded, “Win?”
“Because my stories aren’t mine,” Winnie finally blurted.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m an aislingeach. It translates as the dreaming. When I go to sleep, I see the fae realm.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s like I’m watching a live stream of what’s going on in their world.” Winnie shifted uncomfortably. “All those stories I wrote…they were things I saw in my dreams.”
“So what?”
“So what?” Winnie echoed. “It means I didn’t make them up. I’m a fraud.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. Of course you’re not a fraud. You wrote them down, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you decided what parts to include and what to ignore?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“And you had to come up with the words,” Mel continued. “You had to string them all together in a way that made me and all your other readers see what you saw. Right?”
Winnie just kind of stared at her, like Mel was speaking a foreign language. Unless being the daughter of a fae god came with some previously-unknown linguistic skills, Mel’s only foreign language was a pre-school level Spanglish that helped her order at the Taco Hut, but not much else.
“Honestly, Win. Dreamed-up stories or not, you have gift. Don’t be so dismissive just because you had a little help.”
Winnie nodded and her cheeks flushed a dark pink. “I never thought of it like that.”
“See, that’s why you keep me around,” Mel said with a grin. “Now tell me how you found out. You seem to keep avoiding that particular part of the story…”
If Mel had one skill, it was being able to tell when someone was keeping something from her. Whether it was her mom hiding the latest divorce or a teacher trying to be sly about a pop quiz, it was like a sixth sense. And it was definitely sensing something with Winnie.
“Oh. Well, yeah. It’s kind of a funny story…”
Mel raised her eyebrows. “Stories are only funny if you actually tell them.”
Winnie took a deep breath. “So, there was this owl that came to my window once a month. Like clockwork. One night every month, he flew to the branch outside my window and just kind of hung out.
An owl? Mel had no clue where Win was going with this, but didn’t want to derail her with questions.
“It turns out, that was Cathair.”
Mel’s attention perked up. “Cathair?”
If possible, Winnie’s blush deepened and spread.
“He’s… I’m…”
She started rambling so fast that Mel only caught a few words. Owl. Midsummer. Magic. Kiss.
Finally, unable to process her thoughts into more words, Winnie shook her head and her mouth exploded into the biggest smile Mel had ever seen on her face. “We’re in love!”
“In
love?”
Of all the things she had learned since Winnie showed up at her door this morning, this was possibly the most shocking. Winnie had never been the boy crazy type. She had always been the book boyfriend type—as in the boys in the books she wrote. Mel had never seen her gaga over a real guy.
Although, to be exact, this was Winnie going gaga over a real fae.
“He is the kindest, strongest, most loyal guy I’ve ever known.” She practically vibrated with excitement. “You’ll get to meet him soon and—”
“How about now?” a male voice called out from the doorway.
Mel watched as her best friend rushed across the room and threw herself into the arms of a guy. He was tall—though not as tall as Liam, who stood in the doorway behind them—with dark hair streaked with silver and brown and glittering golden eyes. And he had the exact same explosively dopey smile on his face as Winnie did.
They kissed as if they’d been separated for centuries.
Mel felt like an intruder. She shifted her attention away, and it landed on the tall blond in the doorway.
Apparently Liam couldn’t stand to watch either. His blue gaze was trained straight forward, over the heads of the reuniting couple, and unfocused, as though he was concentrating on not actually seeing anything.
When Mel couldn’t stand it anymore, she cleared her throat. Loudly.
The couple finally pulled apart.
“Oh, right!” Winnie said, her face still beaming with pure joy. “Cathair,” she said to the guy, “this is my best friend, Mel Ackerman.”
Tall, dark and magical crossed the room, hand extended for Mel to shake. She started to reach for him until the words Winnie said actually registered.
“Cathair?” Mel echoed. “As in Prince Cathair?”
Winnie gave her a nervous smile.
Mel had read the stories about him, about the silver-haired prince who was pining over some girl he could never have. Holy bananacakes. Now it all made sense. Winnie was the girl the prince could never have—but now obviously could, because here they were.
Mel was starting to think that her brain was not equipped to deal with all of this. One more shock and it might spontaneously combust.