Lucas bowed again. Elvis gave a yowl that had us all jumping.
“What now?” Eloise turned toward the window, paused, rubbed her eyes. “Um, anyone else see that?”
Isadora floated on the other side of the glass, knocking with a perfect tiny fist.
“Oh, right,” I said. “Everyone, meet Isadora. Let her in, would you? And make sure the cat doesn’t eat her.”
Jaz blew a breath, riffling her bangs. “There isn’t enough rose hip tea in the world,” she muttered.
• • •
“This totally sucks.” I was dangerously close to pouting. Hearing Eloise’s story and being used as a pincushion did nothing for my temper. And her aunt might be flaky, but I liked her. She’d been the one to introduce us to David Bowie and Kate Bush and the Pride and Prejudice miniseries when Jaz had been lending us the Sex Pistols and the Smiths. They’d had the best fight that night, until the neighbors complained about the loud music.
Isadora was currently perched on a lampshade, well out of reach of Elvis, who couldn’t be convinced to release his claws from the sofa. His ears were flat against his head. Lucas was watching her as well, eyes wide.
“Isadora,” he said. “I thought you were just a story to scare children.”
My fairy friend was a bogeyman? Cool. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud. She didn’t particularly look proud though, just thoroughly disgruntled.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” she said crossly. I nudged Devin to get his feet off the coffee table before Jaz freaked out when she got around to noticing. And she would notice eventually, Fae apocalypse notwithstanding.
“What’s going on with you two?” I asked.
Isadora gave a long-suffering sigh, folded her arms over her chest, and refused to elaborate. Fortunately, Lucas didn’t have any such compunctions.
“Isadora was Lady of her ancestral rath,” he explained. “Until she was transformed and could hold it no longer.”
“She was shrunk,” I explained for the others. She glared at me and I shrugged. “Well, you were. You said so yourself.”
“By who?” Devin asked. “Evil sorcerer? Troll king? Man, this is just like D&D.”
I snorted. “Not quite.”
“What then?”
“A poet.”
Silence.
“A poet?”
I nodded. “Apparently he ‘believed’ her into being wee.”
Devin wiped cookie crumbs off his shirt and sprawled back into his chair. “I told you English class was bad for my health.”
Lucas and Isadora were still staring at each other.
“There’s more to this, isn’t there?” Eloise asked. She’d changed into her favorite flannel pajama bottoms, but there was something else different about her. She seemed brighter somehow, more sure of herself. It was kind of nice to see. It wasn’t like she’d ever been a pushover, not the way people thought she was. But she was guarded and now the walls were cracking a little.
I had the opposite problem: no walls, no filter, and it didn’t feel as if fairy poison had magically changed that.
And I missed Eldric.
I knew I needed to tell the others about him but I couldn’t, not quite yet. I wanted to keep him untainted for just a little longer. They would never understand. They would hate him. And I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“No one’s even seen Isadora for nearly a century,” Lucas said.
“Well, I had to go away, didn’t I? Only milksop poets could see me or children inclined to pull off my wings for their butterfly collection. And the rath . . . well, I could hardly defend it, could I?” She kicked at the tassels on the lamp. “My own people turned on me, blamed me. Still blame me.” Her eyes were like bluebells shivering in a cold wind. “They’re the ones chased us out of the park.”
My mouth dropped. “Your own people did this to us? Harsh.”
She looked almost embarrassed. “They got caught by that old poet too. He refused to see a family hall, only some ridiculous forget-me-not queen in her bower with servants drinking from acorn cups.”
Lucas frowned. “One poet shouldn’t have been enough to change you for so long.”
“It’s not her fault,” I said. She might be on the cranky side but I considered her a friend, and when my friends were mad at someone, I was mad at them too. I couldn’t help myself. It was probably a good thing Eloise and Devin were so even-tempered. And that neither of them dated much.
Isadora glanced at Lucas, at me. “It was my fault,” she said crossly. “I loved him, didn’t I? Told him my true name one night, even though I knew better. And that gave him the power to do this.” She motioned with disgust at her tiny figure. “And my people were angry that a poet bested me, leaving them undefended. It’s how Strahan was able to claim our rath as his own.” Isadora spat at the mention of his name. The cat spat back. “They’ve a right to be angry.”
Eloise leaned forward. “Wait, just wait . . . Strahan’s rath is actually yours?”
She nodded. “And lovely it was, before his mangy beasts fouled it up.”
“So can you get us in?”
Isadora nodded once, slowly. “I suppose so. There’s a secret door, under the pond, that he still hasn’t found.”
Eloise nearly clapped her hands, she was that excited. “That’s it, then!”
“No,” Jaz snapped suddenly from the hall. “Absolutely not.”
“We can’t just leave Aunt Antonia there!” Eloise exclaimed hotly. Isadora and Lucas watched them curiously. Devin and I, having more experience with this sort of thing, leaned back and tried to stay out of the way.
“She’ll be fine for a few days. I will find a way to get her out,” Jaz said between her teeth. “She’s my sister and you are my seventeen-year-old daughter. I can get in easily enough closer to Samhain.”
Lucas nodded. “The doors would open then for someone from Antonia’s bloodline.”
“She showed me how. No!” She cut off Eloise’s protests and questions, stared hard at both Devin and me. She looked even fiercer than usual. “You are all absolutely forbidden. Do you hear me?” She checked her watch, cursed. “Now, I have to go to work because I can’t afford to get fired on top of everything else. You will all stay safely inside this apartment. Do I make myself clear?” She paused. “I said, do I make myself clear?”
We nodded. We were lying. She stalked off, the front door shutting firmly behind her. Eloise stared after her for a long time before turning back to us, looking every bit as unyielding as her mother.
“We need a plan,” she said. “Because we’re going. Tonight if we have to.”
She marched into the kitchen, wiping at her eyes. Lucas and Devin both watched her go, twitching to follow. I darted after her before either of them could move.
She was staring unseeingly into the fridge. I linked my arm through hers.
“Okay, so forget about boys for a minute,” I said.
She pretended to recoil in shock, forced a watery smile. “Did you just say forget about boys?”
“Ha-ha. Seriously.” I reached in the fridge for cheese and lettuce to make sandwiches since we were standing there anyway.
“It is serious,” she agreed. “I’ve never known you to pass up a good flirt.”
“I do have some self-control, you know.” I thought about Eldric. Maybe self-control wasn’t the right word. “You’re really okay, right?” I asked. “I’m a little tired to beat up Fae lords, but I could give it a try.”
“I’m okay. You?”
I lifted one shoulder, let it fall. “Sure. Mad as a March hare but fine.”
“I feel like I got you all messed up into this.”
“Oh please, that’s what best friends do.” I poked through the cupboards. “Where’s your mother’s stash of PMS chocolate?”
“Behind the dried lentils. But it’s for emergencies.”
“Hello?” I pointed at her. “Kidnapped.” Then at myself.
“Shot.”
“Goo
d point. Give me a piece of that.”
I rolled my neck. “I hurt all over. Elf darts, my ass. I’m getting myself a water gun full of holy water.”
“We’re not after vampires.”
We stared at each other in horror.
“Oh God,” she groaned. “You don’t think they could be real too, do you?”
I shuddered. “Eat another pickle and let’s forget we ever had this discussion.”
“Deal.” She chewed enthusiastically.
“I changed my mind. I want to talk boys.” She didn’t look remotely surprised. “Lucas is into you.” She was nearly as red as the tomato she was slicing. I poked her. Hard. “You’re blushing.”
“I was kidnapped, remember? I’m just tired.”
“No deal. Tired does not equal embarrassed blushing. Spill.”
“We nearly kissed.” She opened a jar of pickles. “I’m sure it was just the stress.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You know, adrenaline. Or Fae magic.”
“Wow.” I grinned. “You’re really bad at this.”
“At what?” she asked, confused.
“Crushing on boys.”
“I bow to the master.”
“As well you should.” I leaned my hip against the counter. “He’s nice enough, I guess, since this isn’t his fault, after all.” And if anything, Eldric probably carried more blame. “He’s just a little too perfect. Wholesome.”
“Oh right.” Eloise snorted, sounding like her old self. “ ’Cause you only date outlaw bikers,” she added sarcastically. “I forgot.” She passed me another piece of chocolate. We chewed contentedly for a while, pretending everything was normal.
Finally, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. “I have something to tell you.” I couldn’t quite look at her. “You know Hot Guy? From the party in the woods?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“We’re sort of . . . I don’t know, together? Or we were. Are. It’s complicated.”
“That was fast.”
I shifted uncomfortably. “I guess so.” I shifted again. “The thing is . . . his name is Eldric.”
She blinked. “That’s not funny.”
“I know.”
“Jo,” she burst out. “He was in the rath. He’s Strahan’s son.”
“I know that too. Well, now I do.” The chocolate suddenly tasted like dust in my mouth. “I just found out. I know it’s freaky, but he did save Devin and me. How else do you think we got on the roof?”
“Do you have any idea what they do to people in that rath? To other Fae even?”
“He’s not all bad,” I insisted stubbornly.
“He watched them chain me to a wall.”
“Well, he’s not all good either,” I admitted. “But I know him better than you do. He’s had a rough go. He hates his dad as much as you hate yours. He needs to see there’s another way.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“He just needs a chance.”
“There’s too much at stake, Jo.”
“I know that,” I said stiffly. “I’m not talking with my hormones here. I l—”
“Don’t.” She stared at me as if I’d grown a second head right there in her kitchen. “Don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”
“I was just going to say I like him.” Maybe I loved him too, but it had been only three days. She’d never get it.
She took a deep breath, released it carefully. “I’m not sure I can talk about this right now.”
“But—” We always told each other everything. There were dark circles under her eyes, so I snapped my jaws shut.
“Jo. Seriously. Drop it.” She shook herself, as if she were covered in spiders. “I need a minute.” She ignored the others and went straight to her bedroom.
I ate the rest of the chocolate and felt like the worst friend in the world.
Chapter 11
Eloise
I felt betrayed.
Maybe it was stupid. Jo had tried so hard to rescue me that she’d nearly been killed. I felt horrible about the bloody pinpricks all over her, about the way Devin slumped on the couch as if he’d just recovered from the plague. I should forgive them anything instantly.
But Eldric? Seriously?
So now I felt betrayed and guilty.
I changed out of my pajamas, because despite what Mom said, I was going to rescue Antonia. Tonight. I knew the only reason Mom wasn’t trying to find a way in right this second was because she was worried about me, and because she needed backup and she wasn’t sure where to find it. If something happened to Aunt Antonia, she’d never get over it. I couldn’t help but picture Nicodemus’s oozing broken antler and hear Cala’s pain-racked moaning. And Strahan didn’t even hate them, not the way he hated Antonia.
Going back to the rath was demented. I was fully aware of that.
It was also my only option.
I couldn’t be passive anymore. I had to stand up. Mom said it herself: I had a voice. Even if this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. And I, at least, had backup.
I put on dark jeans and a T-shirt with a decal of an angry punk-haired fairy on it because it seemed appropriate. I clipped my lucky red flower behind my ear, the one painted with glitter, and added a coat of matching red lipstick. I might not have a sword like Lucas’s or chain mail, but this was my personal armor. And it helped me feel less vulnerable than petticoats or flannel.
Until I glanced in the mirror that hung inside my closet door. My bed was unmade, the covers bunched around the shape of a sleeping girl. Not just any sleeping girl.
Me.
It was my face, my freckles, my exact hairstyle.
But my eyes, when they snapped open, were all wrong. They were entirely black from lid to lid.
When I whirled around to look directly, I wasn’t looking at myself anymore.
My features melted away as I watched, my nose turning bulbous, my teeth sharp and rotted. A raspy laugh made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. A glance in the mirror showed two of me again. It was disorienting.
The creature scrambled out of the bed, my hair turning into a red hat, faded to pink at the edges. He smelled like old vegetable peelings and roses. I staggered out of reach, knocking my lamp off my desk. It fell with a clatter.
“Um, guys?” I backed out of the doorway, tripped over Elvis, and crashed into the wall. “We have a problem!”
The thing leaped at me. I kicked out, landing a glancing blow. It was enough to knock him back slightly so I could scuttle out of the way again. Lucas was already leaping over the back of the couch, drawing his sword. Devin grabbed my mom’s brass statue of a pig, hefting it like a weapon. Jo threw one of her shoes.
“What is it?” I asked, kicking again.
“A bogan,” Lucas replied grimly, swinging his sword. The bogan gnashed its teeth.
“And a Redcap at that,” Isadora said, shooting up to hover near the ceiling. “They like to pull the wings off butterflies.” She fluttered her pretty wings, well out of reach. “Nasty things.”
“Little bite,” the Redcap whined, scrabbling for me. “I was promised blood to fix my cap; it’s ever so faded.”
“And they like to dye their caps with human blood,” Isadora added helpfully.
I looked at his stained cap in horror. Jo gagged. Lucas sliced at him until he howled.
“Use your own blood,” Devin muttered, smashing the statue down.
The Redcap slumped dizzily and then began to weep. “Just an old bogan, I am. Fast asleep, not hurting anyone.” His tears were fat and glittered like diamonds. He looked sad and pitiful.
“Don’t fall for his tricks,” Lucas warned.
“Wasn’t going to,” Jo snorted. She threw her other shoe. It left a black scuff on the wall. The Redcap snarled at her. When Lucas’s sword came down toward his head, he faded away. We were silent except for the rasping of our breaths and Elvis’s hysterical hissing.
“Why did that thing look like
me in the mirror?” I asked. “And how long was it in my room?”
“All night probably,” Lucas said. “It’s a changeling, meant to buy Strahan some time. He was supposed to fool your mother so she wouldn’t know you were missing and come searching.”
“Like Jaz would ever think that gross goblin thing was Eloise,” Jo said incredulously. “And anyway, she told me there was a note.”
“Another trick,” Isadora said. “The note’s long turned to leaves and acorns I’m sure.”
“Its reflection in the mirror looked just like me.” I shuddered. “And it was in my bed.” I shuddered again. “I’m sleeping on the floor from now on.”
Lucas reached down to help me to my feet. His hand stayed protectively on my elbow.
“We can’t stay here,” he said, his sword still in his hand. He looked just like a boy who could turn into a fierce hawk now. “Antonia sent you here and Isadora’s folk followed your friends. There’s too much magic. And with the changeling, it’s a trail a drunk cluricaun could follow.”
I took that to mean we were too easy to find. I didn’t ask what a cluricaun was. I honestly didn’t want to know.
“Eloise needs to eat,” Devin said quietly. He knew me so well. I couldn’t function if I was hungry. Which contributed to my pathetic lack of self-control in the rath.
“And sleep, I reckon,” Lucas added.
“We can’t stay here, and we can’t go home,” Jo said. “Mine and Dev’s parents wouldn’t know what to do if Isadora showed up, never mind a Redcap. So let’s go to the diner and grab some food and come up with a plan.”
The elevator smelled like wet dog, as usual. I could never figure that out. Dogs weren’t even allowed in the building. The muscle in Lucas’s jaw clenched spasmodically.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Are you claustrophobic?”
“Iron,” he said, his skin suddenly a sickly gray. “It’s worse in confined spaces, without a view of the sky.” He nearly shoved an old woman to the ground in his rush to get out when we reached the ground floor. He steadied her, muttering embarrassed apologies. She blinked at his sword. She didn’t even see Isadora darting like a hummingbird out the revolving doors.