“School play,” Jo explained quickly before the woman could call the police. “You need to be less conspicuous,” she told Lucas.
His sword suddenly shimmered out of sight. I could only see it if I concentrated really hard. It gave me a headache.
When we stepped outside, the heat folded us in its fist and squeezed. Jo lifted her thick hair off her neck. “How’s Strahan doing this again?”
“He’s holding on to summer tightly,” Lucas replied.
“I hope that makes sense later,” Jo said, sighing as the air-conditioned air of the diner slapped away the muggy humidity. It was mostly empty, with only an old man at the counter drinking a lemonade. It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner. We piled into the back booth, like any group of students skipping class. The red vinyl of the seats stuck to the back of my arms. Isadora perched on the old table jukebox. It didn’t work, but it was the perfect size for her. The waitress didn’t even glance her way. I found it hard not to stare. She was so different from the others.
“I vote we eat first and plan nefarious deeds later,” Jo said, scanning the menu.
I was all for that. Not only did I need to eat at least two cheeseburgers and a root beer float, but I needed to clear my head. Too much had happened and I hadn’t had a minute to myself to process it. Food made everything better. I ate all of my French fries and half of Jo’s. She let me because she knew I was still mad about Eldric.
We ordered slices of chocolate cake for each of us and then finally it was time.
“Okay, so we need a plan,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Lucas raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t your mam forbid you to go?”
I made a face. “What, where you come from you always do what your parents tell you to?”
“Where do you come from anyway?” Jo asked.
“The Richelieu belong to the Seelie courts,” he said. “And Talia’s court under that.”
“ ’Cause that’s clear. What the bollocks is a Seelie court? Or a Talia for that matter?”
“The Fae are divided into raths and halls, mostly held by clans with familial associations. A hall is just part of a rath. There are the Seelie—who can be kind, the Unseelie—who can also be kind, but always at a price. And it’s never one you can pay. And then there are the solitaries, and the rogues and hermits, with no particular affiliation. Talia is the Bird queen.”
“So Strahan is Unseelie?”
“Not exactly,” Lucas said.
Isadora snorted. “He’s a git.”
“Maybe so, but he didn’t used to be Unseelie. The crown changed him and then the Unseelie pledged to him.”
“And where does my aunt fit in?” I wondered aloud. “Since she’s not Fae?”
“She isn’t Fae-born, but she was a king’s consort. Fae-human matches are fairly common, actually. Most of us aren’t pureblood, since Fae can’t reproduce,” he explained. “My own Da had me with a human. And Antonia has treaties with the Seelie. They have no love for Strahan; even Talia exiled him, much good it did.”
“Treaties?” Jo said dubiously. “I knew I should have taken government classes this year.”
“I expect they’ll help,” Lucas continued. “If you ask them,” he added to me.
“What, like make a formal speech or something? No way.”
Jo patted my knee. “Breathe, El.”
“You know I hate public speaking.” My voice squeaked. It was ridiculous to be nervous about being the center of attention when we’d just fought off a Redcap who wanted my blood for his fashion accessories, but try telling my heart rate that.
“Can I do it for her?” Jo asked.
“I’m afraid not. Since this matter involves Antonia, the request must be made by a member of the Hart family.”
“Of course it does,” I muttered. “So, what, I just waltz in there and ask for help?”
“More or less. I ought to warn you though, not all will look fondly on you.”
“Why not?” Jo was clearly offended. “She’s fab.”
“She’s mortal. They will dislike you on principle.”
I flopped back onto the cushions. “Well, great.”
“Dude.” Devin shook his head. “Chill. Do you even know how to talk to girls?”
Lucas cleared his throat. “They dislike Strahan even more than your aunt, and that is to your advantage.”
I nodded slowly. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or whatever that saying is.” I tapped my fingers on my knees, trying to get my brain to work properly again. I looked at Isadora, who scowled back at me suspiciously.
“What?”
“What about your people?” I asked. “They hate Strahan too, right?”
“They hate me more.”
I chewed on my lower lip. “Could you convince them to work with us against him?”
“Perhaps,” she said doubtfully.
“You could reclaim your rath,” I suggested. “You know, once we depose Strahan.”
Her eyes glittered. Lucas winced, touched my arm. “Rath politics are notoriously vicious, Eloise. You don’t want to get involved.”
“Probably not, but I already am involved. And I’ll do what I have to do to make sure Antonia’s okay. She might not have a few days, despite what my mom wants to think.”
“She has two days, until Samhain.”
Devin stared at him. “Until who-what?”
“The New Year. It’s when Strahan has to cede to Antonia.”
“Halloween,” I added for Devin’s benefit.
“Figures,” he said tiredly. “This is straight out of some Halloween movie anyway.”
“But Antonia will be okay until then?” I wanted Lucas to repeat that part. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. She’ll not be comfortable, but they can’t do each other any real harm except on Samhain and Beltane. The first of May,” he explained before I could ask.
Isadora was pacing the rim of the jukebox now, her skirts shimmering.
“Will you show us the secret door into the rath?” I asked her. She stared at me for a long time before nodding once, sharply. Lucas sighed. “Jo will go with you and Lucas will take me to the Seelie courts.”
Jo bared her teeth. “I am so going to flick one of those fairies right in the head.”
“Maybe not the best negotiation tactic,” I pointed out.
“You’re not going alone,” Devin said, rolling his eyes. “Please, like I’d leave you two on your own. That’s how catastrophes happen. You know, plagues, locusts, floods.”
Jo made a face, but neither of us could actually contradict him. Especially not now. “Thanks,” she said finally.
“But maybe we should go with Eloise first,” Devin added. “Then sneak in through the pond. I don’t like that you’ll be alone in some other realm. You don’t even read fantasy novels. How will you get by? I have training.” He winked, trying to lighten the tension.
“Playing Dungeons and Dragons is not training,” Jo teased.
“And she won’t be alone,” Lucas said, affronted. “I’ll be her guard and guide. Besides, if I brought two other mortals, they’d never listen to us. Half of them would want to dance you to death.”
We stared at him. “Sorry?” I asked.
He shrugged, almost looking embarrassed. “It’s what we do.”
“And you want to go off with him?” Devin asked me.
“I trust him,” I said apologetically.
“Some Fae are trustworthy,” Jo agreed pointedly. Very, very pointedly. I ignored her and jerked my hand through my hair, making it stick up. “You guys, are you sure about this? It could be dangerous.”
“Blah, blah, blah,” she said.
I tossed an olive from Lucas’s plate at Jo. She ducked and it hit Devin in the eye. “Hey!”
“We’ll need rest first,” Lucas suggested.
“I don’t want to sleep. I want to save my aunt.”
“It’s no use going in ragged. You haven’t slept and your friends were just dosed with Fae
poison.”
Unfortunately, he was right. I hadn’t slept properly since Sunday. I slipped my phone out of my pocket when it vibrated. “Text message from my mom,” I told the others, as I sent a quick text back. “I’m now supposed to text her every hour so she knows I’m all right.” I grimaced. “She’s so going to kill me.”
“Look on the bright side.” Isadora shrugged. “You might not survive this rescue anyway.” We all stared at her until she blinked. “What now?”
“Ignore her,” Jo said. “She’s cranky.”
“We need supplies too, right?” I suggested. “Food and water for sure.” Lucas smiled at me approvingly. It was nice, but a little distracting. Jo might have thought him too wholesome, but he was handsome, in a chiseled, knightly kind of way. “Believe me when I tell you, you do not want to eat food from the Fae. You were right about that, Jo.”
“And salt,” she added. “Lots of it.”
“And iron too. Nails and whatever else we can find.”
“Weapons,” Devin suggested quietly.
“I’ll protect Eloise with my life,” Lucas protested.
Jo waggled her eyebrows at me and I felt my cheeks go pink. “Still,” I agreed with Devin, “better safe than sorry. I have a Swiss Army Knife; that’s about it.”
“I have a baseball bat,” Jo said. I blinked at her. Jo enjoyed sports the way Elvis enjoyed a cold bath. “It’s Cole’s,” she admitted. “He won’t miss it. It’s in his locker at school. Where do we sleep?” she added. “If none of us can go home?”
“Bus station?” Devin suggested. “My uncle works the ticket booth. He’ll pretend not to notice us, if we’re quiet.”
“Good idea,” I said. “We’ll meet at the bus station tonight, and in the morning, Lucas and I will go to the courts. And Jo and Dev and Isadora and her people will meet us at the pond. Deal?”
“Before dusk,” Lucas warned. “We count our days beginning at sundown, Samhain particularly. And we’re stronger during the in-between times—dusk, midnight, and dawn.”
We hung around, not really wanting to leave, until the waitress needed our booth for another group. I looked at Jo and Devin, bickering over the last bite of cake.
I was afraid for them, afraid enough to understand a little of what my mom was feeling.
Chapter 12
Jo
We were completely knackered, but it made sense to split up and get supplies before meeting at the bus station to sleep on the benches. Devin called his sister and had her meet us the café. I ordered a latte and turned my back on the table where Eldric and I had bumped into each other. While we waited for Devin’s sister, Aysha, I left a message for my parents, telling them I’d be spending the week at the farm, and one for my grandparents telling them I was home. Isadora sat on the dashboard of the car and muttered complaints.
Aysha drove up in Devin’s car. “He promised to lend me his car for the rest of the month if I did this,” she said to me. She was wearing her full Goth gear, down to black velvet, even in the heat. “I want witnesses.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Devin said, pulling a bulky green garbage bag out of the backseat.
Aysha shook her head. “You’re such a geek.”
“Thanks, Twilight.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not into vampires?” She sped off, tires squealing.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Shields.” He showed me a corner of painted plywood before stashing the bag in the trunk of the Buick. “You know, for elf arrows.”
“Dev, that’s brilliant.”
He shrugged. “They’re the practice ones from that medieval fair you dragged us to this summer. And I got something for you too,” he told Isadora. He handed her a sword about the length of my finger through the open window. Her face brightened, as if he’d given her a hundred red roses.
“A sword,” she said breathlessly.
“It’s not really sharp, but we can probably fix that.” He shrugged at my questioning glance. “I took it off one of my old D&D figurines.”
“I’ll never make fun of you for those again,” I vowed solemnly.
“I want that in writing.”
“You’re brilliant, Dev, really.”
“We’re not just your eye candy, you know.” He winked at me.
Isadora was doing some sort of intricate dance with the sword, ignoring us completely. She was looking at the sword as if she might like to kiss it.
Our next stop was the grocery store for salt. I popped into the toy store next door as well. The fashion dolls were in the back, with an entire wall of clothes and accessories. Maybe it was silly, but I wanted to do something nice for Isadora. She was trying to help us, after all, and I felt bad for her, forced into a skirt like a limp tutu. I picked out miniature combat boots from an army figurine and a plaid mini-kilt. And if she complained, I’d come back and buy her the Little Bo-Peep milkmaid costume, complete with clogs and wooden pails.
When I gave them to her she grinned. “You might make up for that ijit poet, after all.” She dipped down behind the seats, and when she emerged, she looked more like the type of person she was: tough, confident, and arrogant. Then she did a somersault and ruined the image. “Well?” She hooked her sword on her belt. “Best get this over with.”
• • •
It didn’t go well.
Devin and I huddled behind one of his makeshift shields. Elf arrows bit into the wood with alarming frequency. Isadora hovered over my shoulder, muttering under her breath. An unwary sparrow caught a dart to the wing and tumbled sluggishly into the grass.
We were getting nowhere.
“I told you this wouldn’t work,” Isadora said as Devin lobbed rocks at the bushes where the furious flower Fae were hiding. One of them squeaked, tumbling heels over head. The volley paused, then resumed with increasing ferocity.
“This is daft.” I huddled closer to the shield. The sun was hot on my head, making me sweaty and cranky. “Don’t you lot have some sort of truce symbol? Like the white flag?” I fished a crumpled tissue out of my pocket hopefully.
“How is that disgusting thing supposed to help us? Honestly, humans.”
“Oh, shut up, Tinkerbell.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. I narrowed mine right back. “Do something,” I insisted.
She huffed out a breath, clearly put out at having to ask for anything, including help. “Fine,” she snapped. “For all the good it will do us.”
I’d have maybe had more sympathy for her if there weren’t poisoned arrows aimed at my head. “Just do it,” I hissed.
“This is embarrassing,” she muttered, digging in the grass. It was so long in spots, she disappeared altogether. Devin blinked sweat out of his eyes and lobbed another rock. Isadora finally emerged just as I was about to threaten to step on her. She was holding small white flowers, like daisies; and she was scowling.
“Bleedin’ poets and their pretty stories,” she was saying to herself before she called to the others in another language entirely and tossed the feathery stemmed flowers over the top of the shield. “Chamomile,” she explained to us. “Meant to promote peace. We used to drink the tea during treaty negotiations, but that ijit poet was all about the pretty blossoms, wasn’t he?”
It took only a moment before the bows were lowered, albeit slowly and suspiciously. A Fae clad entirely in ivy hovered above the lilac bushes.
“We will hear your plea,” he said arrogantly.
“Sod off,” Isadora called out, perched on top of the shield and looking annoyed. “I’ve no intention of begging. And to think we were lovers once,” she added under her breath.
I took the chamomile, brown and wilted as it was, and waved it around before peeking over the plywood. Devin was tense beside me, pocket knife in his hand. “We have a proposition,” I offered.
The ivy-man sneered. “We don’t make deals with mortals. We know better than to trust such a thing.”
“Yeah, yeah, you don’t like u
s. I get it,” I said, standing slowly.
“Jo,” Devin said warningly. He angled himself to try and shield me.
I stumbled. “Quit shoving me.”
“I’m trying to help you,” he argued.
Isadora rolled her eyes. “You two mind?”
I faced the Fae who were perched on the branches like exotic flowers. I held Devin’s hand behind the shield for courage. There were a lot of needles glittering among them, and I remembered the sluggish burn of that Fae drug in my blood. I wasn’t eager to experience it again. “We’re taking Strahan down.”
There was a pause and then disbelieving laughter. “You’re mad as a box of frogs.”
“We’re going to do it,” I insisted. “And Isadora is going to reclaim the rath.”
It was kind of eerie having that many candy-colored eyes staring at us. Isadora lifted her chin defiantly. “That’s right,” she said. “Now, would you rather pout like ill-tempered brats or are you ready to go home?”
He drifted closer. “What makes you think you can defeat him now, after all this time?”
“We’ve allies now,” she replied. “And Antonia’s niece on our side.”
He was joined by the rest, fairies clad in rose petals, violets, brambles, and clovers. They were armed to the teeth; angry, wary, but clearly interested.
“The Samhain ball is in less than two days. We’ve the tides on our side.” She motioned to the brittle grass, the wilting flowers. “The land herself would have us succeed. King of Summer, isn’t he? And summer is grand, but it’s only one of many seasons.”
I thought of the dried-up wells in the parched fields and the heat baking the streets and my grandparents worrying over bills and lost crops.
Isadora and the others were speaking in their own language, shaking their heads and shouting but eventually gripping forearms the way warriors always do in medieval movies. She turned toward me, nodded once. “It’s done.”
The Fae from her clan drifted away on their hornet-steeds and Devin and I sprawled in the grass, catching our breath. Tiny, angry Fae were exhausting.
Isadora hopped from grass tip to grass tip. “It’s not time for sleep yet, you two. Lazy sods, come on. We’ve blood to spill!” She waved her sword around.