Fade

“You would never have been here in the first place without me,” I reminded him. “I’m the cause of all your trouble, right here.”

  He moved closer. “I can’t argue with that either,” he whispered.

  His breath felt warm on my still damp skin. The music grew in volume. We were close to the other side. We had to be.

  Fifteen minutes later, Drake grabbed my hand and told me to run. We ran from the marsh and onto solid ground. He lifted me and whirled me around in his arms.

  “We made it!” I yelled.

  “You did it!” he said at the same time.

  “Oh, my God,” I said, holding his face in my hands. “You really thought we were going to die out there.”

  He grinned and let me go, motioning to the others. They slapped me on the back with their thanks and congratulations. Even Sorcha gave me a nod.

  “Thank Bekind and Realtín, too,” I said. “They helped. And Drake.”

  The horses seemed more relieved than anyone to have left the soft marshes. I looked back, but the fog had thickened around the marsh, and I couldn’t even see where we had walked through.

  “It’s the weirdest place I’ve ever been,” I said as Realtín flew down to pinch my cheeks. My teeth started to chatter. Anya and Líle looked even colder than I was.

  “We have to find shelter and build a fire,” Arlen said, looking at Anya who was shaking uncontrollably.

  I glanced around and realised the music had stopped. “Where? I can’t see anything but stone and shadows.”

  “Hello there!” someone called.

  A dog barked. A shadowy figure waved at us from a few yards away. He had a bright torch in one hand and some kind of fiddle in the other. “Made it through, did you? You’ll need to come along now, I reckon. Most who make it die of exposure before they can finish celebrating.”

  “Who are you?” Drake demanded.

  “The Watcher,” the man said as if it was the stupidest question that had ever been asked. “The Watcher of the Hauntings. Don’t worry about that now. We’ve a nice fire going. You’re welcome to have a bite to eat. It’s my job, you see. I knew you were out there, but by rights, you shouldn’t have made it out. Too many of you.” He chuckled. “You took your time, though. Still, you’re here now. Let’s go!”

  “We might as well,” Drake said wearily. “We’ve nowhere else to go.”

  “What the hell are the Hauntings?” I asked.

  Drake shrugged. “I suppose we’ll soon find out. Come on, before the three of you freeze to death.”

  We headed toward the man. The darkness reminded me of my very first night with the fae, the way it had seemed alive and able to touch me. I glanced over my shoulder. The fog was chasing us. I shuddered at the idea that I had led everyone through it with my eyes closed. Maybe Sorcha was right. Maybe a goddess really was looking out for me. But why?

  I licked my lips. I was thirsty and could probably have fallen asleep standing up. “How long do you think we were in there?” I asked Drake.

  “The day and most of the night,” he said. “I have no idea where we go from here. I hope Bekind is a good guide from this point.”

  “Maybe the man will know.”

  “The Watcher,” he said in a teasing tone. “We’re touchy about our titles in the fae realm.”

  “Yes, King Drake.”

  He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I hate when you call me that.”

  We trailed behind the others, our arms wrapped around each other. I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed. This was the way it should have been all along. I had almost forgotten what our trip was about, and that pricked at my guilty conscience.

  I disengaged from him. “Sorry,” I whispered past the lump in my throat. “I know you don’t want…”

  But we had reached the Watcher, and I didn’t need to finish.

  “So many of you.” He tutted. “Don’t have beds for everyone, mind you, but I can get you clean and warm in any case. Some of you can sleep on the floor, I’d say.”

  We followed him down a path to a small building. Beside it was a small river with a kind of a mill churning the water.

  We all jumped when a scream sounded in the distance.

  “That won’t reach you here,” the Watcher said, sounding completely unconcerned.

  Food smells filled the air, and I forgot to worry. We had survived another part of our journey.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Watcher’s home was warm and cosy and spotlessly clean. A clock hung above the fireplace, but the hands didn’t move. Open-mouthed ceramic birds decorated the walls. A plump, red-faced woman stood in a doorway, her hands on her hips. Twin pale-pink pixies peeked around her to ogle us. My companions and I piled into the front room, crowding together to take up as little space as possible.

  “Visitors,” the Watcher told the woman. “Wandered through the marsh.”

  “There are too many of them,” she replied.

  He looked at her reprovingly. “Wife, they’re guests.”

  Drake took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I am the king of this realm. Any help you give us now will be greatly rewarded when we safely return.”

  “Anyone can say they’re the king,” the Watcher said. “You’ll be showing us the proof, I think.”

  Drake removed his cloak and unbuttoned his shirt. I glanced at Grim in confusion, but his gaze was fixed on Drake. I looked back at Drake, who had removed his shirt and turned around. Some irregular horizontal lines ran across his shoulder blade, crossing over one vertical duo-chromed line that glistened oddly, branding him as king, apparently.

  The Watcher and his wife bowed and curtsied in front of Drake, whose cheeks flushed. He glanced at me, and I couldn’t resist a quick curtsy. He made a face before turning back to the Watcher.

  “No,” Drake said. “None of that, please. Take care of my companions before they get a chill, and I’ll be happy for your service.”

  “Well, settle yourselves down then,” the Watcher said. “The Wife’ll be looking after you all. May as well relax for the evening.”

  The Watcher rested the fiddle in a stand and sat on a cushy chair in front of the fire. His dog, some kind of lanky hound, lay at his feet with a heavy sigh. The woman known to us only as the Wife gave some orders, and the pixies took our cloaks. They flirted with Arlen and Drake until the Wife roared at them to get back to work.

  The Watcher smiled. “Made it through the marshes, they did. Didn’t lose one on the way.”

  “We’ll have to do this in batches,” the Wife said, ignoring him. “Only two baths and not enough hot food in the pot. Nor enough beds either.” She clapped her hands. “We’ll have to get busy.”

  “Three fell into the marsh,” Drake said. “They should bathe first.”

  “Of course,” she said. “I’ll feed the rest of you, put some leftovers on the boil, and sort out the beds. Have to do everything around here, I do. Watcher, you can wait for your food since you’ve already eaten today. I doubt these poor mites have.”

  The Watcher nodded good-humouredly. He didn’t seem to care what we did. The pixies took Líle, Anya, and me upstairs. Anya was in a foul mood, slapping the pixies’ hands away from her.

  “You two go first,” I said with a yawn.

  The pixies filled the baths and tried to help my companions, who firmly rejected the assistance. Anya actually slapped one of them across the face. I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. She seemed to despise the pixies, despite being one herself. After getting dressed in clean clothes, Anya and Líle went downstairs for food. The pixies turned to me.

  “A human,” one of them said gleefully. “It’s been so long. Use the best petals.”

  “Oh, and the shimmer,” the other said, rubbing her hands together.

  They prepared a fresh bath scented with petals and decorated with some kind of shimmery crap. The heat of the water drove all of the cold from the marsh away. The pixies washed my hair, and I gratefully let them.

  Lik
e Brendan’s pixies, they giggled about the fairy tattoo on my hip and sighed enviously at my lack of wings. Like Anya, they tutted over the missing chunks of hair. They refused to cut the rest of my hair short to match and plaited the shorter chunks instead.

  When I was clean, they reluctantly let me get dressed. They gave me a beautiful white dress that was a little loose in the waist but otherwise almost a perfect fit.

  “Why are you so good to me?” I asked them.

  One of the pixies grinned, displaying sharp little teeth. “We like to play with humans.”

  They were children playing with dolls. They dressed me up and wished for a back free of wings, but they would forget me as soon as I left. I wondered if Anya thought of me as a doll.

  When I walked back downstairs, almost everyone had already gone to bed, choosing to sleep instead of bathing. I didn’t blame them.

  “There,” the Wife said, pointing at a chair at the kitchen table. “You look much better now. Warm and clean. Makes a difference to your mood, doesn’t it?”

  I nodded and took a seat.

  She patted my shoulder. “They call the marshlands the Black Marshes because they fill your heart and soul with despair. You were lucky to make it through. And you such a young thing. Some never recover. I hope your heart is light enough to bear it.”

  Drake came into the room and sat next to me. She served us each a bowl of thick casserole then left the room.

  “I waited,” he explained. “The beds are all taken, so we have to sleep in the living room in front of the fire. Grim and Realtín are already asleep there, I think. I didn’t want to leave you alone, so…”

  “Thanks.”

  We ate in comfortable silence. His knee pressed against mine under the table. He looked exhausted.

  “No keeping watch tonight,” I said.

  “I can’t sleep anyway,” he admitted. “That’s why I keep first watch. I just can’t seem to fall asleep.”

  “You sleep in the mornings.”

  “Barely. I wait until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. Then one of the others takes over, and I lie down. I fall asleep straight away, but then I wake up a while later, ready to move on again.”

  “That’s not healthy.”

  He shrugged. “Some things give me sleepless nights. That’s the price I pay.”

  The pixies came in and made a beeline for Drake. They nudged each other, pink-toned skin gleaming and wings beating mesmerisingly fast. I watched with fascination as they acted like cats in heat. Anya had never flirted with Drake, but I had seen her entranced by Brendan.

  “We’re good pixies,” one said, sidling over and brushing her wings against him.

  “Wasted in a place like this,” the other added, pushing her way between Drake and me. She reached out to stroke his wings.

  “Wife!” Drake shouted, making me jump.

  The woman rushed into the room, her ruddy cheeks almost purple. She glared at her pixies.

  “Take these two away from me and my companions,” he said. “And if anyone is harmed in the night, you will take the blame.”

  She nodded and ordered the pixies to sleep in the stable with the horses. They grumbled as they fled the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry,” the Wife said to Drake then threw a glance my way. “You know how they are, but she’ll be safe tonight. Don’t you worry. I’ll organise your bath myself. They won’t be back in this house tonight.”

  Drake nodded and finished his meal. When he left to bathe, the Wife returned to take me into the living room. Grim and Realtín were curled up on top of a dresser in the corner.

  “You’ll be warm in here at least,” she said apologetically.

  “Would the pixies have done something to me?” I asked. “Why?”

  “They’re pixies, aren’t they?” She patted my arm. “They’re born to do whatever it takes. If something’s in their way, they aren’t going to hesitate. They’re not the best little ones. We took them in as babes, but they never learned to be different.” She drew me toward the blankets. “I told the king I’d give him our bed, but he refused. He said he’d rather be down here. I don’t know what to make of him.” She pulled back the top blanket. “Well, I’m sure you’re tired after your journey. Settle down now and rest. There’s a good girl.”

  I crawled into the pallet on the floor. The heat knocked me out within minutes.

  ***

  I awoke, wondering where on earth I was. I was warm and comfortable for the first time in a while. I blinked a couple of times as I tried to focus. The ceiling was covered in birds. Over the crackling of a fire, I could hear a strange scraping noise. I sat up with a fright, gazing around the room. Grim and Realtín were gone. Drake sat in front of the fire, his violet eyes red-rimmed. He was holding something in his hands, working on it with a small knife.

  Intrigued, I crawled closer and looked at the carving. “It’s Dubh,” I whispered. “It’s amazing.”

  He peeled off another shaving. “If I finish it, perhaps it would do.”

  “Where are Grim and Realtín?”

  “Bekind made them move elsewhere. Said they would be more comfortable.”

  In my heart, I knew she wanted something else. I leaned my arms on his knees and rested my chin in my hand. “Can’t sleep?”

  He gazed at me with eyes so full of longing I could hardly breathe. “No,” he said in a low voice. “Sleep never comes easy.”

  My gaze flicked to the wooden horse. “So it was you before? You left the butterfly in my room back home? And the… other one at Brendan’s?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do with them.”

  “They’re so beautiful.”

  He touched my cheek. “It’s you.” He held up the horse. “You make this better somehow.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not magic, Drake.”

  “Then you’re inspiration.” He laid down the knife and carving. “But you don’t need to use up the people you inspire in order to feed. You’re not the leanan sídhe.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything before? Why just leave them there for me?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted you to have them. I wanted… I needed you to see them and not think about the person who gave them to you.”

  “You made me.”

  He smiled. “I refused to fall back asleep because I knew he would take over again. Maybe recreating a small part of that night helped me feel like it would last forever.”

  My insides did a little twist. Every time I made up my mind about him, something else was revealed to turn back time for my heart.

  “If I had stayed in the human realm, I probably would have been a carpenter.” He ran a hand through my hair. “Sculpting wasn’t a way to earn money in Ireland in those days. It probably still isn’t. I didn’t try, though. Not in either realm. Sometimes, I would carve something without meaning to, not even realising it. Anger blocked the creativity. When I met you, I felt inspired again. I know now it’s because you’re the descendant of a leanan sídhe, that there must be something in your blood, but I was convinced that just knowing you was something special for me. But I get in my own way a lot. I’ve spent a very long time with one goal in mind, and you’ve been the first true distraction to come along. There’s something in you that changes us, Cara. Sorcha is terrified of it. Maybe it’s the humanity, but maybe we really do want to make you happy.”

  I stared at him, unsure of what to say.

  “I don’t care, you know,” he said. “Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t make a difference to me.”

  “But me growing old does?”

  He dropped his hand, agitation in his eyes. “If I didn’t care, I’d let you think this has a happy ending,” he whispered, leaning closer to me. “It can’t be. I’m not destined to rule as king. I’m destined to die bloody and satisfied that I did what I could to avenge what was done to my family. You deserve to have a normal, fulfilling life. It’s something I, of all people, have no chance of providing for you.”

  ??
?Maybe I make my own happiness. Maybe I don’t need to rely on somebody else to give me anything.”

  “If I kept you here, you would resent me in time.” He stroked my cheek. “Or worse, we would drive you mad. I’ve seen the shells of summer wives. I wouldn’t be able to stand that for you.”

  “I’m not going mad.”

  “Some would say entering the Fade is the very definition of madness.”

  “Then you’re all mad, too.”

  “We’re fae,” he said. “There is no sanity here. This is a wonderland with the blackest shadows tainting the edges. There’s a pretty blanket, but hidden underneath is something rotten and depraved. You don’t belong with us.”

  “What’s changed? When you thought you were going to die…”

  “I have the title of king over my head,” he said. “Brendan could want to war with me. Sadler surely will. There is no safe place by my side. My favour would kill you.”

  “I didn’t ask you for anything. Stop rejecting me.”

  “This isn’t rejection! This is protection. I have to protect you because you have no sense of danger when you’re around us.”

  “Or I just don’t care,” I whispered. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  A hitch in his voice gave me courage. He might be king, but he was still Drake. We had been through too much to forget what was at the heart of us both.

  I leaned over and kissed him. He pulled me onto his lap, his hands twining in my hair. I had forgotten how it felt to lose myself to a faery, the true oblivion that I had been seeking for a long time. I thought of nothing but his kiss and his touch.

  When Drake pulled away, his eyes were glazed over, and I knew that he was drunk on me. We had an effect on each other, something neither of us could quite explain.

  He lifted my skirt to run his hands up my legs, and I mentally thanked the pixies for being so thorough in my bath. I sank down to get closer to him. He pulled on my lower lip with his teeth then let go of my mouth to kiss my neck. Soon, I was covered in goosebumps.

  “You should sleep,” he breathed, still kissing my neck.

  “I know.”