Soul

  Chapter Nine

  Downstairs, Brendan waited for us in a small ordinary-looking office. He sat behind a desk, leaving me a little disappointed. I had expected fae glitz and glam. The only oddity was the half-naked faery serving tea.

  Sorcha stood behind Brendan’s chair, her eyes shrewd and cruel. I shivered under the chill of her glare. Brendan gestured for me to take a seat. I obliged and, in turn, motioned for Grim and Realtín to sit next to me. Grinning, Realtín flew onto my shoulder and sat with her tiny arm around my neck. Grim hesitantly moved to my side, but he remained standing.

  Brendan kept his keen gaze on me, as if trying to work me out. I stared back at Drake’s face, knowing I could never trust him but still resisting the urge to just reach out and touch him.

  “First, I must apologise for the attempt on your life,” Brendan said. “I’ve been gone for a long time, and I have some catching up to do when it comes to political friends or foe. Still, it was a lesson. It was good to see who made the first move.” He sighed. “And not unexpected at all.”

  “So I’m bait now?”

  “You’re in danger now,” he said. “And I still need things from you. Help me willingly, and you’ll be rewarded. Have you seen the damage?”

  “You mean the crime wave? I heard about it. Doesn’t mean it’s fae influenced though.”

  His smile was cold. “You know the truth. It will only get worse. I can bring control back to the chaos, but it would be much simpler if you agreed to attend the ceremony on my behalf.”

  “Why me?”

  “You were the one at the solstice festival,” he said.

  “Yes, but why was I there? Why me?”

  He leaned forward, his palms together. “I may be addressed as a king, but even I have to adhere to tradition and ancient rules. On the night of my resurrection, certain rules were on hand. They were broken, which gave me the opportunity to return.”

  “What rules?” I asked.

  “The best way for the Irish fae to regain some control was to have one of their most precious rites threatened. If the blood of a true child of Ireland was forcibly spilled at the Irish fae’s own festival, it would have freed them to act against the queens. Trickery to call this child into the festival, perhaps, but the queens made their own choices. Nobody forced them to desire sacrificial blood, and they should have known better. Even blood can’t fight against the waning of power on one of the most important nights of the year. We could have let this play out, but when the queens turned on each other even before blood was spilled, the way was clear. We needed that child alive to bear witness to events—a pure, unbiased voice to clear any stains from my name over the events that occurred on that night.”

  “I hear you wouldn’t have a problem without me,” I blurted.

  He glowered. “You hear too much, it seems. We need to be sure. There can be no chances taken. It’s too important an opportunity to waste. Sorcha guided you to the festival that night, it is true, but you were safe. Your arrival merely helped the queens make a choice. Unfortunately for them, they made bad choices. Their tragic ends were of their own making. Now I have to claim the throne and restore my original power. There are pretenders, but I have blood on my side. And you, of course.”

  “Wait a minute. You’re saying I’m the true child? What’s a true child of Ireland? And why would I want to speak for you? Sorcha didn’t keep me safe, Drake did. And look what’s happening to him. If you think I’m unbiased, you’re sadly mistaken. You’ve done this. You—”

  “If you want Drake to win his body back, you’ll help me.”

  Sorcha flinched.

  Yet I still wanted to believe him. “You can do that?”

  “Only if my powers are fully restored. A fae king can do many things. You can help me, help Drake, help your own world. You don’t want the fae running around unchecked.”

  “You didn’t answer me about the ‘true child of Ireland’ bit. Or why I was the one led there.”

  “You were the closest one at the time,” he said as if that made any sense.

  “But what is it? What’s a true child?”

  He looked sad. “The old ways truly are long gone.”

  Sorcha nodded. “The humans no longer bow to us or even fear us. They believe us myth and legend. There are no longer tributes.”

  “Interesting,” he said. “Cara, have you ever heard of changelings?”

  “I’m not a changeling,” I said through clenched teeth, although the reasons why my father couldn’t stand me kept coming back to that.

  Brendan smiled. “No, you’re not. We occasionally switched faery babies with human ones, for various reasons. We may have intended to keep young royal fae safe from others in line to their inheritance or to stop a particularly strong line from becoming more powerful. We even did it to keep powerful human families in check. Many of the ancient human royalty in Ireland had fae amongst their members, usually unbeknownst to them, but it became a point of pride. A claim of ties to the faeries.”

  “Did they stay with those families?” I asked, curious in spite of myself.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes we changed back, but often the child was forgotten about. And some of the changelings weren’t changelings at all, but hybrids sent away from the fae world to their human families. The descendents of these forgotten fae became known as true children of Ireland because they held the pure blood of the ancient families, which was strengthened by human blood over the years. One of your ancestors was fae. You have very little fae in your blood, just a drop, but it’s there. You come from true Irish blood, from an ancient bloodline of both human and fae. You are a true child of Ireland.”

  I stared at him. “Is that why my mother looks funny now? I keep seeing people who look a little fae. Underneath, their skin is a little like yours, and their eyes are weird colours. Is that why?”

  He gave me a curious look. “You see?” He glared at Grim and Realtín. “This doesn’t leave the room.”

  “Leave them alone,” I snapped. “Who cares what I can see? I drank your stupid wine, and it screwed me up is all.”

  Confusion dulled Brendan’s eyes, then they turned violet.

  “He’s right,” Drake said urgently. “Nobody can know this. Tell him nothing more about yourself, Cara. I’m already lost. Help him restore control and then get away before it’s too late. Don’t let him—”

  He groaned, and Brendan returned. “I hate when he does that,” Brendan said, rubbing his temples. “Whatever he says, Cara, the real problem is how much danger you’re already in. MacDearg wasn’t working alone, and Sadler has many friends and contacts right now. His claim to the throne is my biggest concern on the surface, but he would rather see me dead, and if he wins, he’ll get his wish regardless. Until I win, you’ll be safe here, with me.”

  “Ha! I’m not staying here. I have exams, a job, family, and friends. I have to go home.”

  He quirked a brow. “A family? Your brother died, didn’t he? And your parents… well, there isn’t much love for you at home, is there?”

  I clenched the chair arms. “You know nothing about me.”

  “We know more than you do,” Sorcha said. “Watch your tone when you speak to my king. Do you want to know the real reason you’re here? The real reason you, of everyone, were drawn to the festival?”

  “Sorcha.” Brendan’s voice held a warning tone.

  “Yes,” I said, my heart turning into a hummingbird. “Tell me the big secret then.”

  Realtín’s tiny fingers pinched the back of my neck, and Grim fidgeted as if he wanted to run.

  “There is no secret,” Sorcha scoffed. “But the true child of Ireland who was called had to be someone with nothing to lose. Someone who can’t be influenced by threats of death. Someone who has nothing to live for. Preferably someone with a death wish. You are hopeless. There’s nothing in your future, so why not do the noble thing for your race and achieve one act you can be proud of? One thing that leaves a mark before you give up
your pitiful existence and crawl away to die.”

  I sat back, open-mouthed. I wasn’t hopeless. I didn’t want to die. There had been dark days, but everyone hit low moments. That didn’t make me hopeless.

  Realtín flicked something that hit Sorcha right on the tip of her nose. Sorcha held out her palm and weaved some kind of smoking magic in the air. I watched, astounded, as Grim threw himself in front of Realtín and me like a hero.

  With a sigh, Brendan closed his hand over the magic before Sorcha could unleash it. “Leave us, Sorcha.”

  She spluttered something, but he silenced her with a glare. She sent one last hateful sneer my way before storming out of the room.

  “I would like to keep at least one servant loyal,” he said, sounding weary.

  “She started it,” I protested.

  He rubbed his eyes. “What she says is true. I know your sorrows, Cara. I know your despair. I could feed on it for a thousand years if I wished. Your pain is our nourishment. But I also know you want to help me.”

  “I don’t,” I whispered.

  “I could make you,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I could threaten everything you hold dear.”

  “See? Sentences like that put people off,” I said. “You would get more loyalty by being, you know, nice.”

  He laughed loudly. “I don’t remember humans being this brave when I ruled.”

  “You killed them back then,” Realtín said.

  “It’s true,” he said. “I used them up. But that was a long time ago.” He frowned. “That doesn’t mean I won’t do what I have to.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, and I might have to make this whole witness thing a lot more uncomfortable for you, so don’t push it. You’re not in my good books right now.”

  His smile widened. He was enjoying himself way too much. “You don’t seem worse for the wear after your scare today.”

  “We’re not scared of fae anymore, remember?” I stood, but my knees shook. “And I have to go home. I’ve already missed work because of you. If I get the sack…” I shook my head. As if I could do anything to him.

  “At least let me send bodyguards with you.”

  “Your creepy servants aren’t allowed in my house,” I warned. “Only Grim and Realtín. And I can talk to them whenever I want.”

  “And will you help me on Imbolc?”

  I frowned.

  “The first of February,” he said. “The festival will be held that week, and the trials and ceremony, too. I’ll do what I can for Drake, and I’ll keep you safe, but you have to help me.”

  “As long as you don’t bother me, we’re cool,” I said. Being part of something made me feel good, but he didn’t need to know that.

  He got to his feet. “Grim, Realtín, don’t let her out of your sight. Keep her out of trouble. The bodyguards will keep their distance. Send a signal if something out of the ordinary happens. Cara, I’ll see you home.”

  “There’s no need for that,” I told him.

  He waved his hand. “I want the world to see I’m prepared to protect you, that I’m not afraid of an attack on my own life.”

  He walked me out of the house, the others trailing behind at his direction. Amongst the rose bushes, I saw a large black cat. It sat there and stared at me until shivers ran down my spine.

  “Is something wrong?” Brendan asked.

  I glanced at him then back to the cat, but it was gone. “It’s nothing. You mentioned trials before. What’s that about? Because I’m not sure I like the sound of them.”

  “They’re mostly for contenders. They’ll make a big event of the process for entertainment. There will be deaths, but we’ll win in the end.” He hesitated. “I need to be strong, Cara. What is it about you that’s keeping Drake bound here? Is there some promise or agreement that’s tied him to you? Did you promise him your soul or your body to help free you that night? I haven’t found anyone who has seen you two together, and that’s what makes me curious.”

  “Not your business,” I said sharply.

  Our strange procession left the fae magic behind and moved back into the land of humans. People looked at their feet when they passed us as if afraid to look directly at us.

  “I’ve been able to watch some of the world,” Brendan said. “Human women in particular had little place in the world when I first ruled, unless they acted like men. Families would give their daughters to the fae as tributes and sacrifices—pretty little virgins who were used until they lost their minds or their hearts. Now, women are educated and aggressive, almost as good as men.”

  I choked on my reply. “Almost as good? If you have much contact with human women in future, I’d recommend against using that kind of phrase.”

  He laughed. “I’ll try to remember that.”

  I realised I was staring at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “You may ask. I may not reply.”

  “Fair enough. If this true child of Ireland thing is true, then do you know who it was in my family? A hybrid or changeling or whatever? And if they were switched back? If anyone knew about it?”

  “I could possibly find out. As long as the change happened in the last couple of centuries, somebody must know. Are you interested in learning about them?”

  “I’m curious. Was it his choice? Did he know he was different? What happened to him? My grandfather loved telling me faery stories. I knew all of the legends, and still, I got caught.” I smiled wryly. “That must sound completely lame to you, but it wasn’t real before. Now though… now it is.”

  He looked away for a few minutes. “You might not want to know about this fae. He might be… dark. There are many fae who like to trick humans into sleeping with them, and others who do things that make the humans sign away their souls. There are many things you’ll never know. Be glad of that, Cara.”

  “What happens to the fae who aren’t taken back home, though?” I asked. “You and Drake both said the fae can’t be free, but what’s freer than a creature who doesn’t know what they are?”

  “They might never wake up,” he said. “They’re so convinced they’re human that they can’t physically manifest in their true form. Others have to be removed because they become so violent. It’s not their fault. They don’t know what’s happening to them, why they feel like they want to burst out of their own skins. Those kinds are noticed. The others fall under the radar. Most are watched throughout their lives by lesser fae.”

  That didn’t make me feel any better. “Do people like me have magic?”

  “Magic?” He thought about it. “Rarely. If the blood is strong enough, royalty or a particularly strong variation of fae, then there may be things that pass though the bloodline, mostly passive abilities like good luck, but the true children are pure because the fae is just a trace.”

  “What about the human babies? The ones the fae take away.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “We either keep them or send them back. They tend to suffer mental disorders when they return to their human world. It’s kinder if they die first.” He said it simply and without drama, but for some reason, that was the most horrifying thing I had ever heard.

  “That’s disgusting,” I whispered.

  “That’s our way. Humans can do ugly things, too. We have to be strong, Cara. Only the strongest survive. This body helped you at the festival. Why?”

  “Because he’s decent?”

  “In your terms. In ours, it was because he’s weak. That’s why we’re in so much trouble. They see me as weak. If they learn of how I’m tied to you, they’ll come at us harder and faster. And you can’t help me if you die, so watch out for yourself. It would be embarrassing if I couldn’t even keep one human alive.”

  “I’m not helping you,” I said as we reached my front gate. “I’m helping Drake.”

  He followed me to my door. I couldn’t see his procession of followers anymore.

  He held my hand to stop me and turned me to face him. “Why?” The way he looked at me made me feel as
though he could read my mind.

  “You look so much like him,” I whispered, reaching up to touch his face. I grazed his cheek with my fingertips, confused by the things I felt. I saw Drake’s face but Brendan’s eyes, so I closed my eyes and pretended. “He helped me. I owe him, and I care what happens. A good person, even a fae, doesn’t deserve what you’ve done. I know he’s—”

  He pressed his lips against mine, and my arms automatically wrapped around his shoulders. I leaned into his cool lips, and his fingers brushed the back of my neck. I felt dizzy and out of control, as if I could fly away at any second. A warning bell went off in my head, and I pushed him away, holding my fingers to my mouth in shock.

  He was watching me carefully. “Curious. Explains a lot.” His eyes changed from green to violet.

  Drake looked so angry that I automatically stepped back. “Don’t ever let a faery do that to you.” A flush of colour rose on his pale cheeks. “Don’t let him use you. He’s a cat with a broken mouse, Cara. Be more careful. Look at Grim and Realtín if you need convincing. They made deals. Look at them now.”

  He gripped my shoulders and shook me. Not hard, but his teeth had clenched, and I thought I should have felt fear, but the longing kept clouding my thoughts.

  Sorcha barged through the front gate, her anger spitting off her in visible sparks. “Get away,” she hissed. “Before anyone realises. Let him have it, Solitary. It’s for the greater good.”

  Drake stood between us, his wings bristling. “Back off, harpy. You did this to us. You alone. I won’t forget it, and I’ll make sure you don’t either.”

  She retreated in a hurry, making me wonder what she saw in his face. She threw me one more hateful look before rejoining the others who had come in to view outside the gate. My two tiny fae friends were staring at me, and I felt shamed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “I know,” Drake said, turning to face me. “It’s not your fault. It’s all of the magic.” He touched my cheek. “You don’t really care, Cara. Not about me. Not about him. The magic just makes you think you do.”