Soul

  I couldn’t imagine that, but I sat in the bath and let them hose me down. Anya was gentle, murmuring words of encouragement, but Líle taunted me constantly. The scent of soup filtered into the bathroom, and my stomach growled loudly.

  “She needs food,” Líle said. “Her hair doesn’t need to shine like the sun.”

  Anya kept scrubbing. “But it’ll smell so good when I—”

  “I’ll shave her head if that helps.”

  “Fine,” Anya snapped. “But she’d feel better with pretty hair.”

  “She’ll feel great once she actually eats something. She badly needs to keep her strength up to deal with all of the magic around her,” Líle argued. “I’ll lift her out while you get the dressing gown.”

  I had already begun to feel stupid, so when Grim began spoon-feeding me on my bed, I decided it was time to deal with everything.

  “I can feed myself,” I muttered, taking the spoon out of his hand. “And I can wash my own hair.”

  “Do it, and we won’t have to,” Líle said.

  “I will. I just…” I heaved a sigh and dropped the spoon. “I don’t know how to deal with this. He told me that the fae caused all of my family’s pain. That I caused them pain just by existing. My father’s not even my father.” I shook my head.

  “We’re sorry,” Grim said, his voice stilted. “If there was something we could do…”

  “But should I do something? Say something to my mother? How do I…? I mean, this ruined their lives. My brother’s dead because of me. If she hadn’t had me, their lives would be perfect.”

  “Nobody can know that,” Líle said, but her tone had softened. “Except the Mother.”

  “Hush,” Realtín said, eyeing Anya nervously. “Be careful what you say.”

  “She’s a daughter, too,” Líle said, pointing at Anya. “There are more of us than you think.”

  Anya nodded. “I can’t help it. The Mother sent me to Cara.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Realtín scoffed. “Why on earth would she send you to Cara?”

  “I don’t question her,” Anya said indignantly. “I know you look down on me because I’m a pixie, Realtín, but I’m more than that. We’re all more than a name. Look at Cara.”

  They all looked at me.

  “Well,” Anya added, “on her good days.”

  I giggled, and the others joined in wholeheartedly, as if I had finally given them permission to be happy.

  “I’m sorry I’m a pain in the arse,” I said. “Maybe I’m not as strong as I thought.”

  “Will you come somewhere with me?” Líle asked. “Right now?”

  “It’s not like I can go anywhere without you,” I said.

  “You need some air,” she said firmly. “You three, cover for us.”

  “We stay with Cara,” Realtín insisted. “We were her guardians first.”

  “I won’t let her come to any harm, little sprite,” Líle said. “Look at how pale her cheeks are. She needs air, and he will only hover if we all go. They’ll think she’s abed if you and Grim remain here with Anya.”

  Realtín pouted, but Grim nodded. “We trust you, warrior,” he said. “Don’t make us regret it.”

  Anya bundled me up, and Líle snuck me outside. I could hear Brendan shouting at someone inside his office.

  “You feel guilty about your brother,” Líle said when we had lost ourselves in the rose bushes. “And the rest of your family. I think I can give you comfort, if you’re willing to try.”

  “Why would you help me? Brendan said… is it because of what I can give you? This high or whatever?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t like to feed on misery, Cara. And while it’s true that being by your side gives us certain advantages, I would rather see you happy. I enjoy humans, but you… I watched you before he made me your bodyguard. I was part of a group who kept an eye on you from a distance. I saw the way you treated the sprite and the brownie, saw how the king reacted to you. And when I saw you with Anya, I knew. The Goddess wanted this. I think the humanity in you is good for us.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Cavorting with a body that contained two souls probably wasn’t the most human thing I’d ever done in my life.

  “We call the goddess Brighid the Mother because she looks over us all. Humans included. She saw us all as her children, and she entwined our lives. Things have changed, and the Mother has all but disappeared. Sometimes her servants grant favours on her behalf, but it’s said she disliked the way the fae treated humans, and that’s why she turned her back on us. Whatever the reason, I believe we were meant to co-exist peacefully and happily. I don’t think we were ever meant to feed on anger and pain. The emotions are stronger, but that’s only because we encourage them. Perhaps if we encouraged love and happiness, we would get the same rush as he gets with you.”

  “It’s not on purpose.”

  She gazed at me. “I envy you. You can feel the things we cannot. That night, at the king’s party, he made you appear more fae. He showed you off in ways you’ll never know. They all got a taste, and they all know you’re on his side. And then later…” She grinned. “I stood watch outside the door and had more of a taste.”

  My cheeks burned. “I hope you don’t think that I—”

  “There’s no shame in pleasure,” she said.

  “The rules back home are kind of different.”

  “Sometimes the rules are the wrong kind of prison. Never underestimate the power you have over the fae. You may have none of the magic and all of the weaknesses, but you have something they want to keep.”

  “I’d rather have nothing they want,” I said softly.

  “You’ve been faced with all of the negatives, but you could have a wonderful life with us. Consider it at the end, and if you stay, perhaps I can serve you, too. But whatever you do, don’t regret what you had here with the king, with Drake. He’s no warrior, not like the king, but he has… something.”

  “He definitely has something,” I said. “But is any of it real? Where are we going, Líle?”

  “To the Goddess garden. It’s forbidden, and you may not have enough fae in your blood to step inside, but it’s worth a try. If the Goddess hears you, she may help. And it’s a place of peace. You might see things clearly, truly figure out how to move on from all of the darkness you’ve seen.”

  “I don’t know how. I regret so many things.”

  “That’s your problem,” she said. “Regret is pointless. Enjoy the moments because they can end. Why regret the things that made you happy, even for one moment?”

  “Because… because it’ll hurt more in the end.”

  “The end may be a long way off,” she said. “What was done to your family was not your fault. There is no other ending to that story. And if you regret the time you’ve spent with Brendan and Drake, then you are a complete fool.”

  “I can’t have them both,” I said. “I can’t have either of them.”

  “You have now. That’s all that matters. What will come will come. Live for now is my advice.”

  We stepped through a dark wood, thorns twining around my ankles and threatening to trip me until Líle cut through them with her sword.

  “You could teach me to fight,” I said. “It might make your job easier.”

  “Start with this.” She handed me her sword and pointed in front of us. “It gets worse ahead. Cut through them. If you can.”

  The dare in her words kept me going, despite how much my arms trembled. I slashed until sweat dripped down my back and blisters formed on my fingers.

  Then, I realized I felt no pain from it. “Oh, no. Poor Anya.”

  “This is nothing to someone like Anya, but we’ll stop. You did well. I’ll make a warrior out of you yet, given half the chance.”

  “Are there leylines here?” I asked.

  “Leylines? Of course. Can you sense them?”

  “How do I…? What do they feel like?”

  ??
?Like… power.” She pulled me a couple of steps to the left. “Now close your eyes and concentrate. Tell me when you feel something different underfoot.”

  I closed my eyes and felt stupid as she pushed me around the forest, barely keeping me on my feet. And then I felt it. That vibration that reminded me of the night I had first been led to the fae.

  I stopped moving. “I think I feel something.”

  “Good,” she whispered. “Keep going. Try to find your way. I’ll be right here.”

  She kept her hands on my hips as I walked, trying my best to follow the leyline. I fell off the path a number of times, but the longer we walked, the more obvious the sensation was. It was like a prickling on the soles of my feet, and by the time she bade me to stop, I could barely stand the sensation.

  “Here we are,” she said.

  I opened my eyes to see a clearing. We kept going until we came to a large arch covered in white flowers that gleamed in the moonlight. The archway blurred and shimmered, and I tasted magic in the air. I couldn’t see what was past it, as if my eyes weren’t capable of seeing.

  “I don’t know about this,” I said.

  “This is her garden, tended to by her daughters. The path is covered again every day to protect this place. Step inside. If you can’t, we’ll turn back, but Cara, if you can, the Goddess herself will look down on you. If we’re lucky, she’ll guide you to peace, at the very least.”

  “Brendan will freak,” I said.

  “Yes. That’s why he won’t be told about this.”

  “Even if it works?”

  “We don’t know how to help you with your grief. The grotto is the best place for you right now.” She shrugged. “I doubt even you could make the king listen. He closes his mind and ears to the Mother.”

  “But you still serve him.”

  “He’s the best hope we have. Understand this, Cara, war will come. He’s the only one strong enough to contain it. Go.”

  She pushed me, and I stumbled through the arch, feeling as though I had jumped through a wall of cold water. I went from a dark, cold wood to a beautiful, sunny garden.

  I looked up at a familiar sun and relished the atmosphere. Fae and peace combined. There was silence apart from a trickling fountain ahead, and the place was full of flowers and shrubs and trees.

  Taking a deep breath, I went to the fountain. Water poured from the hands of three sculpted women. A jewelled cushion sat at their feet, and I knelt on it, letting the water run over my fingers. I felt safe for the first time, maybe in my life. There was nothing around, nobody to hurt me or hate me or make me feel worthless. There was just me and the sound of running water, me and the feeling I could remain there forever.

  I wasn’t sure how long I knelt there, staring up at the stone women as if waiting for them to speak. I wished my brother could come back to me. He was the only one who didn’t expect anything from me, the only one who understood me and accepted me and didn’t blame me for anything else. Why had he been the one to leave? Why couldn’t he have stayed with me?

  I opened the locket and stared at the picture of us. I might have been a better person with him around. I might have cared what happened to me before it grew too late. He would have taught me more, and I would have listened.

  “I miss you,” I whispered past the lump in my throat.

  I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth as something flew past my face. A snow-white butterfly criss-crossed in front of me, deftly avoiding the streams of water and landing on top of the fountain. The water stopped running. Something gripped my heart and squeezed. I got to my feet and stretched out a hand. The butterfly flew onto my fingers, fluttering its wings.

  “Do we go to the Nether?” I whispered. “Can you see me, Darragh?”

  A feeling of peace overcame me, and I could have sworn I smelled his favourite aftershave. Maybe it was all in my head, but I didn’t care. I had found a place with good memories alone. I had found somewhere I could remember him without the images being tainted by my father.

  I stood there for a long time, whispering to the butterfly and praying it was a sign from my brother. It didn’t even matter. The words fell from my lips without pause, and each one lifted a weight from my shoulders.

  “I’m so sorry for what happened to you. You’re the only person who made life bearable for me, but it wasn’t bearable for you, and that was my fault. I’m sorry I blamed you for leaving. I’m just… I love you, and I miss you, and I don’t know how to fix this. You didn’t deserve this. Please forgive me.”

  The butterfly left my fingers, brushed against my cheek, and flew upward until I could no longer see it. The water from the fountain ran again, and I knew it was time to leave. Whatever Brendan said, I was certain Brighid had gifted me to help me carry on. And I knew that Darragh wasn’t suffering anymore.

  I trailed my hand along the white flowers that grew all over the garden as I made my way to the arch. The scent of them made me drowsy, and when I finally stepped through the arch, I fell into darkness.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I woke up in my fae bed to see Brendan standing over me, a deep frown marring Drake’s features. Arlen stood behind him, his stern face impassive.

  “What did you do?” Brendan asked. “They say you haven’t left this bed for days, and yet you smell like… another place.”

  I sat up and stretched. “I’m hungry.”

  Realtín flew over to me. “I thought you would die!” She pulled my hair and kissed my cheek.

  I yawned and lay back down. “I thought you felt my pain.”

  “At first,” Brendan said, “and then it disappeared. Anya weakened, but she didn’t suffer. You didn’t suffer. We felt nothing at all for the last day. I thought… we were concerned that we had broken your mind.”

  “Not yet,” I said, giving Grim a weak smile. His eyes were red-rimmed, and Líle was fidgeting anxiously by the doorway. “Why are you all so worried?”

  “If you die, so do they,” Brendan said coldly.

  “That’s not why!” Realtín screeched in my ear. “You know we worried for her.”

  He narrowed his eyes at the sprite until she hid behind me.

  “Don’t bully her,” I said, yawning again.

  “Here’s your breakfast,” he said as Anya ran in, followed by Sorcha. “I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Wait!” I said. “What day is it?”

  “Friday,” he said.

  “Great. We’re going on that human night you promised me tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” he exclaimed. “You almost wasted away this week. What are you talking about?”

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Whether I like it or not, I’m bound to be used up by the fae, and I want to see my friends one more time. I want to celebrate the last birthday I might ever see. I’m allowed to be drunk and weepy, but if I act like I’ll never see my friends again during the day, they’ll know something is up. Besides, all of this… faeness isn’t good for me. Obviously. Maybe I overdosed on being around so many fae.”

  He glared at Grim. “Is that possible?”

  Grim nodded, surprising me. “She’s just a human, and she’s been thrown in with us like one of the summer wives. They don’t last very long because they aren’t used to us. It’s been a lot to take, even for someone with a trace of fae in her.”

  “And you promised,” I said. “We made a deal. Fae don’t break deals.”

  “No.” Brendan sighed. “But we do our best to worm our way out of them.”

  “I thought you wanted to know what a human night out would be like.”

  He hesitated. “I do, but there’s so much to do. Arlen’s reorganising everything, and we don’t have long left. It seems like a risk.”

  “So you’re scared,” I said.

  “I am not scared.”

  “Whatever you say. All I know is that if I were you, being attacked and all, being disrespected in my own home, I’d want to show the world I wasn’t afraid. I’d want the world
to see me out there, enjoying life and daring my enemies to come get me.”

  He smiled. “Compelling reason, I admit. There would need to be rules enforced. You would have to—”

  “I will be so good, you’ll think my soul has been swapped out. Maybe I need to have some fun, Brendan. Isn’t that what the fae are all about? Fun, excess, and debauchery? And after everything you told me, I need to get out of my head for a while.” And I needed to be away from so much concentrated fae magic to figure out what I really felt and thought.

  “It would send a message,” Líle said. “Their attack meant nothing to us.”

  Brendan looked at Arlen and Sorcha.

  “It would give us a chance to see a different view of the fae and humans,” Arlen said. “It might be telling.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Sorcha said. “Now is not the time.”

  “People are afraid he’s weak,” I said. “Let him show them his strength.”

  “And perhaps it will show you what the world is really like without a fae leading the way,” Brendan said, raising a brow.

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  “I’m inclined to agree to this,” Brendan said. “Arlen, have you tracked down Sadler?”

  “No,” Arlen replied. “But there are rumours that his son is on the move.”

  “It looks like we’ll face each other at the ceremony then. Is the daoine sídhe still alive?”

  “Barely. She refuses to admit why she’s working for the likes of Sadler.”

  Brendan rubbed his jaw. “She won’t break. Forget to feed her.”

  I swallowed my protest. Yeah, she had tried to kill us, but letting her starve seemed beyond cold. I kept my eyes on the food Anya had served until Brendan, Arlen, and Sorcha left the room.

  When I heard their footsteps go down the stairs, I looked at my friends. “How the hell did I get back here?”

  “You passed out,” Líle said, rushing over to me and wringing her hands in agitation. “I thought I had killed you, thought I…” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry you were hurt.”

  Realtín flung a grape. It hit Líle in the eye, but she didn’t react.