Ever
The girl sleeps for hours. Secured in my arms and rocked by the roll of Jinn’s easy canter, she is a dead weight against my chest.
We’re currently passing through the Valley of Light, a thin track that twists between the Dún Mountains’ black cliffs. Opaque walls of flat stone rise on either side, hulking ever-upward until they become impenetrable battlements lining the purple sky. Even to my jaded eyes, it is a spectacular sight and a shame the human misses it as she slumbers on.
Come to think of it, why should she sleep like a babe while I suffer the journey in wakeful exhaustion?
I give her a quick, sharp squeeze, my forearm contracting against her ribs.
“What?” she says, jolting awake.
“We will be at the Emerald Keep before long. Do you wish to sleep through our arrival? This land is mine, the Land of Five. Look around you.”
Yawning, she stretches against me as if I’m a comfortable chair. I dislike being used this way and shift backward to avoid her touch. As I do so, it occurs to me I barely feel the black poison as it creeps through my veins. The pain in my chest is minimal, too. The Lake of Spirits is indeed a miraculous cure, and I should make a point of swimming there more often. But no, the pain disappeared well before then, around the time I found the human.
Her head tips back, tucking under my chin as her gaze scales the bold black cliffs.
“Oh, wow. What is this place?”
“The Valley of Light. When we are clear of the mountains, we will be in Talamh Cúig.”
She snorts. “Valley of Light? Are you sure? I see a lot of black stone, some gloomy shadows, and the usual gray sky above, but not so much in the way of light.”
“It wasn’t always like this. Once, when the sun used to shine on this path, it was a sight to behold.”
“And the sun not shining… that’s your fault, isn’t it?”
A torrent of rain erupts from clouds and falls on our heads. My fault? How dare she?
“Stop that,” she says, shielding her head under the woolen coat. Instantly, the rain disappears. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just a fact, isn’t it? You control the weather somehow.”
“It’s not so much that I control it, but that we are linked. I cannot be bothered trying to control anything. I am as I am, and the air currents follow accordingly.”
“So, does that mean you can make it warm if you want, push the clouds away and let the sun shine?”
“Of course.”
“You say that a lot, you know. Of course,” she says affecting a deep, haughty voice.
“That’s because you are forever questioning my abilities, and I can do most things I set my mind to. Therefore, there is no other answer I can give you.”
“So humble,” she whispers, not comprehending I hear her slightest breath. Air is mine. I am air.
She glances over her shoulder, green eyes flashing with amusement. “Well, go on then, Never. Give us a beautiful sunny day.”
“As usual, you misunderstand. I just told you the weather is tied to my feelings. I would need to be exceedingly happy in order to clear the skies, which is impossible. Many years ago, when this was a sunny place, I was a different creature.”
A miracle occurs—she stays silent, possibly pondering my meaning.
Then, “Something must have happened to make you so gloomy. Either you weren’t loved by your parents or you lost the love of your life? Which was it?”
Partially the first. Certainly not the other. Never the other. I don’t have a breakable heart, merely a rotten one.
Murder and mayhem come to mind, chased quickly by sorrow and pain.
“I don’t wish to dwell on it.” Other than throwing my younger brother a few morsels, so far, I’ve divulged my inner thoughts to no one at court. I’m not about to start sharing confidences now with an annoying human prattler.
“Can you at least try to think of something happy? A memory perhaps? It would be amazing to be warm even for a few minutes. My clothes are damp. My bones are frozen. Do happy thoughts work?”
The eagerness in her jade-colored eyes flicks a switch inside me. I wish to flick it back but cannot.
“Sometimes they do. I suppose I can try it,” I hear myself say. I’m the monster in the shadows, suddenly transformed into a player in her dream. A nightmare. A story I no longer control. Why do I do her bidding when she asks?
Immediately, my mind is flung back to Mount Cúig; the doe has died, and the girl is singing. This should not be a happy or a pleasant thought. At the time, I felt only anger and shame. Even so, I’m there again, my pulse thundering in my ears as she somehow sings calm into a moment polluted with the struggle of death.
I remember the warmth unfurling in my chest and spreading to my gut, my head dizzy like I’d drunk an entire jug of the sweetest wine. And, now as Jinn steps out beyond the cliffs of the valley and the wide sky spreads above us, I let the feeling overtake me. Like hot butter dripping over golden apple cake, my muscles melt into a childhood memory of warm dirt and wild roses. A feeling of purity. Innocence.
And I stay there on the mountain with the dead doe because it is good.
I stay there with her because it is also good.
I dwell in this calm state because I like it.
Eyes closed, I concentrate on the warmth in my chest until, like a flash of lightning, sunshine explodes around the lowlands and blazes over our skin.
The human squeaks like an excited mouse and pushes back her sleeves, thrusting her short arms into the air. Balor frolics, running circles as he chases his tail. Jinn prances like a foal and shakes his braided mane. And I focus on melting every fiber of my body to keep the golden warmth around us for as long as possible.
Sunshine rays into the Valley of Light, and it transforms the path into a river of liquid silver.
“Look behind,” I whisper against her ear.
Laughter bubbles from her throat. “Oh! That’s amazing. Now its name makes total sense. Look what you did. Well done, Never!”
I swivel in the saddle once more and smile at the shining spectacle. When I turn back, the tallest spire of the Emerald Castle glitters in the distance, and cold seeps back into my stomach.
The sunlight flickers.
Her fingers dig into my thigh, an unpleasant feeling. “No, Never! Keep it going. Please. The warmth’s wonderful.”
“Don’t speak, then. I must concentrate.”
Telling myself I do this not for her, but for Jinn and Balor who revel in the change in temperature, I let her song weave through my mind again. With its haunting melody come more memories of childhood—traipsing through the countryside with my brothers, dogs bounding around us while we fished in streams and ignored the wood nymphs who strove to tempt us from our games. Even then, my older brother, Rain, could not ignore them for long.
“Look,” she cries. “There’s someone galloping toward us.”
In the distance, a white horse with a dark-haired rider move at speed from the direction of the city. Oh hell. This is not good.
“It is my younger brother,” I say.
“Oh, and is he as is horrible as you are?”
“Worse.” I can practically see his face-splitting grin from here. “You will no doubt like him.” With that thought, the clouds sweep back across the sky, a dark curtain signaling the end to my blue-sky performance.
She grips my wrist. I wish she wouldn’t. “No. Bring back the sun.”
“I can’t.”
My brother’s horse, Flame, moves as fast as a wildfire. In moments, they are within shouting distance.
“Brother,” Raff calls with delight as if I have been gone a lifetime or returned from the grave.
The girl gasps. “What’s that thing on his shoulder?”
I roll my eyes at the creature gripping Raff’s hair, holding on for its life. “A mire fox. It is his constant companion and an insufferable troublemaker.”
“It looks more like a monkey than a fox, and it’s so cute. Your brother’s not bad either.”
I huff a sigh. I cannot wait to be rid of this girl.
“Greetings,” says Raff, nodding at my passenger, his tawny eyes round as saucers as he joins us.
“Brother. What brings you here?” I ask, drawing his fickle attention my way.
“The sunshine was glorious, Ever. I was with Kian at sword practice in the onyx courtyard, and we had to remove our doublets. All morning the weather was grim, so I knew you were returning from your hunt, but I couldn’t believe it when the skies cleared again with you so close to home. What were you doing to make it happen?”
Jinn sidles up to Flame, nickering with joy. As the horses move forward together, my eyes stay fixed ahead. I refuse to look at my brother and answer his irrelevant questions. If I choose to clear the skies, it is my business why I do so and none one else’s.
“Ever, why don’t you answer?” he says, his gaze flicking between me and the mortal.
“There’s no place like home,” I mutter to no one in particular.
Raff growls and pushes my shoulder. “Brother, I insist you at least tell me what this pretty, disheveled creature you’ve found is called.”
Pretty? Now that is a grievous stretch of the truth. Jinn is more beautiful than she.
“Are you losing your eyesight?” I ask.
The human’s muscles tighten beneath my hold.
“I suspect you are, if you can’t see she is as succulent as a ripe berry. What exactly is she, a human girl? We have not seen one of those in a long—”
“That’s right,” the wasp interrupts. “I’m human. My name is, Lara, and I can talk and everything. Hello.”
Delighted with her insolence, Raff laughs. “Pleased to meet you, Lara. I am Rafael. I ride the noble Flame who you see beneath me. And the ignoble creature riding my shoulders is Spark.”
He cuts her a half bow, grinning like he’s been introduced to a princess from the Shade Court and is about take her for a whirl in the Endless Dance at Beltane. I cannot see for myself if the human smiles at him, but I hear it in her voice when she reaches for the mire fox, and says, “Aren’t you adorable?”
The little demon twitches its long, pointy ears and chatters innocently as it plays with the mortal’s hand.
“Be careful, it bites,” I say sourly, twisting my garnet ring around my finger.
“You must excuse my brother’s discourtesy, Lara. For some of our kind—I speak of my mother and the brother who holds you in his arms—royal blood goes to their heads, and they think themselves superior to all others.”
She looks over her shoulder and squints at me. “Royal? What do you mean?”
Raff’s grin turns rhapsodic. “Oh, he didn’t tell you? He is no humble huntsman, Lara. You are being transported about the land by none other than the thirteenth Black Blood Prince of Air, he who is destined to reign over—”
“Raff,” I warn in a low voice.
He ignores me and continues revealing secrets. “Our mother, the queen, thinks thirteen is a lucky number—and that Ever shall survive the curse, unlike our brother Rain and our fath—”
“Raff!” I bark. “Shut your jaw or I shall shut it for you.”
Lara leans and tugs his crimson sleeve.
Why, by the Elements, must Raff use her given name? Now it runs through my mind like an irritating rhyme.
“He’s a prince?” she asks, voice full of doubt. “This huntsman sitting behind me is fae royalty? I don’t believe that—”
“Oh, yes, Everend Calidore Fionbharr here is our future king. The heir to the Throne of Five. Did he tell you nothing?”
She mustn’t be impressed by royalty because she creates space between us, wriggling forward in the saddle as though she cannot bear to touch me. Well, it is far too late for that.
Over the duration of our journey, our bodies have melded into one. I know the chill of her skin, the scent of her sweat, the precise depth and breadth her ribcage expands with every breath she takes. She is known to me, and it cannot be undone.
A high-pitched whistling comes from overhead, and I look to the sky. Seven sets of silver and gold wings circle above us. The órga falcons have arrived.
“Ah, brother, your creatures have come to welcome you home.”
I delve into a saddle pack, locating the trout I’d saved for this moment, and then with a flick of my wrist, I produce an updraft, sending the fish spiraling into the air. The girl yelps in fright, and Raff and I laugh as we watch the birds devour their meal mid-air.
“Raff,” she starts, already taking liberties and using his familiar name. I don’t like the way it sounds from her lips. Soft and gentle. “What’s this thing about the Black Blood prince? What does it mean?”
“All our heirs are cursed with the black poison running through their blood, and unless he finds his queen by—”
My hand shoots out and cuffs Raff over the head. “What is wrong with you? I do not give you leave to tell this human these things. She is our prisoner, found trespassing in our land. What do you hope to achieve by giving her this knowledge? Where the court will soon be sending her, she will not require it.”
The wind whips her rust-colored locks against my face, and my brother laughs as I tear it away.
We round a bend in the trail, and the city and castle set high atop Stone Hill come into view.
The wasp says, “I see why it’s called the Emerald Keep. It’s like a beautiful jewel, something from a fairy tale.”
Neither Raff nor I can argue with her assessment.
The path winding up toward the city gates is like a bright ribbon of green tourmaline wrapping around the hill. It’s enchanting to look at, but I would take a different pathway if I could. One that leads in the opposite direction.
“So,” says Raff as we commence our ascent, the órga falcons screeching hoarsely above us. “You won’t tell me how you cleared the clouds earlier?”
I sigh into the girl’s hair. “Another time perhaps.”
With the steep incline, her weight sinks back against me, the friction between our bodies an unwelcome distraction.
Most likely realizing I am not one to impart information, she directs another question to Raff. “When we arrive, if anyone bothers to feed me, should I accept it? Would it be safe?”
Raff throws back his tawny head and laughs. It’s a kind sound. A friendly sound. “What do you think will happen if you do?”
Twisting poppy-stained locks around her fingers, she smiles back at him. “I’ve heard eating your food will trap me here in Faery forever.”
“That would be exciting.” He leans close, bumping shoulders with her on purpose. Spark shrieks and tugs the girl’s hair. “It would be a pleasure to have you with us forever, Lara. But, unfortunately, that particular rumor isn’t true. But food can be enchanted as a means to trick you or change you, so take care who you accept it from.”
As my anger flares, the sky shakes, and I say, “If you’re worried, you could choose to eat nothing and starve to death. That might be a neat solution to the problem of your presence here.”
Golden eyes shoot me an unwanted message, one full of brotherly disappointment. “What is this nonsense you speak?” Raff asks. “Once, you were kind to those less fortunate than you. If your will of late is to enhance the suffering of others, then I know little of you anymore, brother.”
That is true—he no longer knows me. It is an impossible task. Because how does one understand the cruelty of the night sky, unfathomable in its limitless blackness?
Such is my mind. Such is my life.
“He wasn’t always like this,” Raff says to the human. “He used to play with wolf pups and banter with the kitchen servants before begging a plate of marigold cookies.”
“And since we are reminiscing, don’t forget the time I skinned that bwagnod alive when I caught him standing over your bed about to slice you into pieces. That was fun.”
The human stiffens, and Raff’s face falls. “But you were sixteen then, and it was after the black poison had set in.”
“Was it?” I ask, curious to know the answer.
“Yes, when Rain died. Remember?”
I’d prefer not to.
“Who’s Rain?” the girl asks.
As anger flares again in my chest, I bark, “Be quiet now. Don’t speak. It is time to stay silent.”
Raff glares at me. “You gave the order three times. Once would probably have sufficed.”
“Not with this human it wouldn’t. If you had endured her company for even one full day, you would be violating your own rules of decorum and shouting and snarling at her. Wait and see. It won’t be long, and you too shall be treating her thusly.”
The girl digs an elbow into the leather wrapping my side. “I can’t wait to be rid of you either. I don’t care what your court does to me as long as it means my time with you ends.”
She looks to Raff. “I have another question about faeries. Is saying thank you dangerous?”
I roll my eyes, and Raff answers. “It’s fine, but probably not wise to indulge in the practice too often. The Folk tend to take advantage of excessive gratitude.”
Spark makes a flying leap into the wasp’s lap, and they chatter together like old friends, stroking each other’s red pelts.
When we’re on the bridge in sight of the city gates, Raff brings his horse close and speaks in a whisper so soft the girl most likely cannot hear it. “Brother, shouldn’t you make her walk? If the guards see her held so securely in your arms, they may take the wrong impression from the sight.”
Of course. What am I thinking? I’ve become so accustomed to her weight cradled against my thighs, she feels like part of my body, albeit a useless and unnecessary limb.
“Perhaps you left your powers of intellect on a log back in the forest?” says Raff, grinning.
I fake a smile. “I must have.”
Pulling Jinn to a halt, I pry Spark off the girl and pass the animal back to Raff. “You must dismount and walk behind us,” I tell her.
“What? Why?” she says, clinging to my leather bracer as though I am her greatest protector. Hardly. Does she not realize I am the exact opposite?
Beaming, Raff says in a secretive tone, “The dedicated way he guards you, close and tight in his arms, the court may take you for a bride rather than a captive. There may be a riot. The queen will expire from shock. And where will the Court of Five be then?”
A whirlwind of my making tears at Raff’s hair as I dismount and pull Lara from the saddle. “Walk a few paces away,” I instruct. “And no matter what happens when we enter the city, keep your head down and try not to do anything stupid.”
As I swing back onto Jinn, Balor trots to the human’s side and walks alongside her.
“Your hound is smitten,” says Raff, a host of devils laughing in his golden gaze.
I huff. “She seems to have a way with animals. You will not believe what happened this morning when I felled a doe.”
“Try me.”
“Appalled and saddened by the creature’s death, she sang to mark its passing. Sang to a dead doe! I couldn’t believe it.”
“And her voice, what was it like?”
I look at him and open my mouth, but no words come out.
He laughs at me again. “That good, was it?”
“I grow weary of your laughter.” He finds this situation with the mortal funny, but I do not. Unless it’s at another’s misfortune, I’ve forgotten how to laugh.
Raff glances back at her shuffling along, her eyes agog at the sparkling spires above us, and he asks, “Shouldn’t you bind her hands and tie the bonds to the saddle, so she doesn’t flee?”
“No need. She’s made a bargain to stay by my side until the morrow.”
Raff’s brow hikes skyward. “Oh? You will have an interesting evening in your chambers then.”
“Don’t be foolish. If she’s still alive, she will sleep this night in the dungeon or with the servants. Mother will make sure of it.”
At least I hope she will.
Cunning deceivers every last one of them, humans are worse than I remembered. This girl may have beguiled my brother, but I do not like her chances of charming the Queen of Five.
No one fools my mother.
