The Shadowed Path

4. Reine-1

4

Reine

The path turned upward, and I found myself using my wings to give me forward momentum. This of course was interesting, because I couldn't actually see my wings. Yet they were there, supporting and pushing me along. At least something in my life did.

John continued to walk in front of us, and Kestrel caught up to me.

"My dad is sulking, but I know he and I have the same question. What can we expect from the dark Fae city?"

"I don't know. I've never been there."

"But aren't you a princess? Haven't you visited all the parts of your kingdom?"

"The parts belonging to the light Fae, yes. This is like a different country." But her question made me wonder. Who had made the rules that Fae couldn't visit each other's regions? Wouldn't it make more sense? We could learn from each other and perhaps even come to some sort of peace rather than the cold war we'd been in for centuries, possibly millennia.

Or was I thinking like a human still? Or something else? Most people didn't seem to desire peace and mutual learning.

"So, you don't know what we're walking into. How well do you know him?" Kestrel nodded toward Ellerin, who stalked ahead. I could almost feel the tension between him and John. Both men were used to getting their way and having their authority respected.

"Not very, but this was my only way in, at least without my mother knowing."

"Do you trust him?"

Ellerin glanced over his shoulder and put a finger to his lips. My cheeks warmed, and Kestrel's turned pink.

I touched her arm to emphasize the point. "One thing to always remember—Fae have excellent hearing."

No one said anything until we reached the tall obsidian walls of the city. Rather than having a smooth facade, they rose from the landscape in jagged layers that would tempt enemies to try to scale them. Anyone foolish enough to climb them would meet their death on the slippery slopes and shark-tooth edges.

John looked at the walls, and his face betrayed his uncertainty. "There's a gate around here somewhere, right?"

Ellerin chuckled. "Yes, although not everyone knows how to find it."

We followed him through another copse of trees, which felt like we were walking away from the wall, but I could feel illusion thick in the air.

"The Shadowed Path leads here as well as many other places. Only a few have the keys to make it lead where they like."

Kestrel and I exchanged smiles again.

Ellerin paused and held up his hand, and we all stopped. "Everyone be quiet. This is where I summon the gatekeeper."

Kestrel mimed working a video game controller. I snorted and nudged her with my elbow.

Ellerin closed his eyes and held up his staff. The crystal at the end glowed red, like blood, and a chill slithered down my spine.

A small, blue creature appeared and sat on a large toadstool about ten feet away from us. It had humanoid features, pointed ears, and wore a witch's hat, which was not white, thank goodness. I didn't know what I would do if Kestrel started singing the theme to The Smurfs. Or was she old enough to remember them?

The creature pulled a checklist and pencil from its cloak, crossed its legs, and squinted up at Ellerin. It challenged him in a squeaky voice, "You're not on my list."

Ellerin spoke with more deference than I had heard him use to this point. "We had to take an unexpected detour, Gatekeeper."

The creature shook his head. At least, I think it was a he. The chaos of the dark Fae lands defied or resisted all attempts at categorization—gender among them. "Ah, yes, the forces of chaos abound, no matter how much one tries to avoid them." They added with a sinister grin, "Especially if one has a debt to it."

Ellerin made a sweeping motion with his hand—don't talk about that here.

"I request entrance to the dark Fae city of Cruaidh."

"Hmmm." The gatekeeper tapped its pencil on its list. "Looks like there's four of you, five with the grimalkin. I can get you in next Tuesday."

"Told you we should've gone around," John grumbled and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Ellerin frowned over his shoulder at John, then turned his attention back to the gatekeeper. "This is an urgent matter. We need entry to the city today."

"Fae cities require reservations?" Kestrel asked me.

"Sometimes, yes. Although this is a land of chaos, we try to be careful to make sure the magic is balanced and not concentrated too much in any one place."

"Yes, young lady, and I cannot allow a party of two Fae, one witch, a grimalkin, and one…" This time Kestrel was the object of the blue creature's squint. "What are you, miss?"

Kestrel sighed. "I wish I knew."

Ellerin motioned for us to walk a distance away, and we complied.

John kept looking back at Ellerin. "What is he doing? Is there a problem? Should we just go the other way?"

"No, it's the custom. There needs to be a bribe, haggling over it, and finally a reluctant resolution." I was relieved to find how easily the customs of Faerie came back to me.

"So, there's not a problem with there being too much magic?" Kestrel's body was ninety-nine percent still, but I could see her jaw muscles moving, and I guessed she had a nervous habit, something to do with her tongue.

"Unlikely."

John looked at his daughter, and back at me. "You're sure? What if she has more magic than any of us realize? Even the gatekeeper didn't seem to know what to do about her."

"If anything, the mystery around her will make the gatekeeper more likely to let us in. It was a rookie mistake for them to betray their curiosity."

Ellerin returned. "We're in. Follow me."

The gatekeeper gave us a cheery wave as we walked past, and I noticed their eyes lingered on Kestrel. I wondered if there was something in the bribe Ellerin had given the gatekeeper having to do with her. He wouldn't do something like that without asking me first, would he?

We walked straight toward a particularly jagged-looking piece of the wall. In fact, it appeared as though we were about to voluntarily impale ourselves on a shard. We stopped just short of it.

"The gatekeeper said you have to go first," Ellerin gestured to Kestrel. "Remember, much of the Fae lands are an illusion, especially to humans."

John stepped in front of his daughter. "No! I will not allow it. Are you trying to kill us?"

Kestrel c****d her head and narrowed her eyes at the spike. "It's okay, Dad. It's not real."

"Are you sure?" John asked at the same time Ellerin queried, "What do you see?"

"It's flickering, like a bad hologram."

I turned my Fae sight on it, which I had to remember to do, as I had gotten out of practice using my Fae senses in the human world. I saw what she meant. Rather than glittering black stone, the shard appeared like projected gray glass.

Kestrel moved around John and walked straight toward the spike. John lunged as though to stop her, and I held him back.

"You have to let her go and grow up sometime. That means allowing her to make her own decisions."

"Don't tell me how to parent." He wrenched his arm from my hand with surprising strength. Kestrel disappeared with no blood or screams. John relaxed for an instant, then became antsy again as his overprotective tendencies, highlighted by his wife’s recent death, reasserted themselves.

Ellerin frowned again but didn't say anything to John. "You're up next, Reine."

I walked toward the spike and deliberately relaxed as the illusion touched my breastbone. The magic of the dark Fae did not reward fear. Rather, they fed on it, and I was not going to allow them to leech any more of my power than I could help.

As soon as it would have stabbed me fatally, the spike disappeared in a puff of smoke, and I found myself on a sidewalk in a modern-looking city.

Kestrel stood to one side, watching wide-eyed. I joined her, careful to be out of the way of whoever came through the gates next. When I looked back at it, I saw not an intimidating wall, but a large, decorated stone arch, like the Arc de Triomphe in Paris.

"What do you think about your first look at a real Fae city?"

Kestrel rubbed her right temple. "This is going to sound crazy, but it looks familiar."

"Familiar how?"

"Like I've been here before."

I took a deep breath and took in the scene. I'd visited many of the major Earth cities during my time there, but none of them compared to Faerie with its senses of magic and otherness. Part of that came from the jumble of architectural styles, which kept me from feeling a true sense of time or place. Tall buildings of stone—no metal—and glass mixed eras from squat medieval stone, to medium-height Victorian, to towering crystalline structures that defied categorization with their multi-faceted planes. The inhabitants also presented an interesting mix. A wide assortment of dark Fae creatures ambled, strolled, stalked, and otherwise made their way along the concrete sidewalk. While vehicles drove along the street, they were more of the wagon and coach variety, and cobblestones replaced pavement.

In other words, it was like the human world mixed up. The absence of the typical city odors of gasoline and tobacco smoke disoriented me. Instead, the smells of wet dirt and stone hung in the air, like an exposed hillside after a rainstorm, although the surfaces didn't appear to have been rained on recently.

I pulled Kestrel out of the way of a small, brown, wrinkled creature who rode a two-wheeled wooden conveyance powered by nature magic, which explained the smell. The rider of the wooden bike almost ran over another of its kind, who shook its fist.

"Thank you, idiot."

"No, thank you." The first one retorted and shook its fist back over its shoulder.

Kestrel watched the one on the bike roll away. "What was that about? Were they being sarcastic?"

"Brownies," I explained. "It's an insult to thank them."

"I'll…keep that in mind."

I suspected she'd forget. She appeared to be awed at the spectacle around us. Truth be told, I, too, found myself a bit overwhelmed. As I'd told her, I hadn't been to Cruaidh, or indeed any of the dark Fae lands, and I didn't know where danger would come from. For the threat was there, a dark shadow just outside of my peripheral vision, both Fae and mundane. I extended my extra Fae senses, and dark alleys became visible between the buildings. They reminded me that no matter where we walked, something could reach out and snatch any of us. Sir Raleigh, again in his less threatening cat form, twined around my ankles.

"Reine, where's my dad?" Kestrel looked back at the gate. "Shouldn't they have come through by now?"

"I suspect Ellerin is taking the opportunity to speak with him outside of our hearing. Plus, here would be the worst place for your father to dig in his heels and argue."

"Yeah, my dad can be kind of overbearing. My mom knew how to handle him."

I didn't know what to say to that. Her mother had been killed in front of her the week before, and I could feel her grief simmering below the surface. "Can you…handle him?"

"Maybe? He seems to think I'm still twelve or something. Honestly, that's when he got super busy with work and basically ignored my existence until I got that internship at the center. Not that it did a lot of good." She sighed. "Do Fae parents act differently?"

"To a point. Once we get to a certain age, we're on our own."

"So, you raised yourselves?"

"Again, not exactly. I did, and I looked after Rhys long after he became an 'adult' at the request of my mother. That led us both to be exiled through his stupid actions. So yeah, Fae are horrible parents."

John came through the gate, his face pale, and he rushed over to Kestrel and enveloped her in a hug.

"Are you okay?" He held her by her shoulders away from him. "Did it hurt you when you came through?"

She batted his hands away. "I'm fine. I told you it would be no big deal. Why don't you listen to me?"

"Watch your tone, young lady. I've had enough browbeating for one day."

"John," Ellerin warned. "Later."

John pressed his lips together and nodded. Poor guy. No one liked to be scolded, especially someone used to being in charge. He turned away, and his mouth softened into an "o" of wonder as he took in the city around him.

I grinned and turned my attention to Ellerin. "Where to? Can we get transportation across the city?"

"This way. As part of my bargain to get us in, I had to promise that you and I would meet with someone. I'm going to stash the humans in a safe place where we can stay the night in case our meeting runs long."

"Stay the night?" I asked. John's face turned purple with his unspoken objections, but he held them in.

"It's highly unlikely." He started walking away from the gate, and we had no choice but to follow him.

Kestrel moved into step beside me. "You Fae like that word, unlikely."

"We technically can't lie, so we speak in non-absolutes. It makes life easier. Now, no more questions, please. I need to remain alert to any threat."

Ellerin led us along a series of gradually narrowing streets until we found ourselves in a neighborhood that wasn't shabby so much as old and dark. The gloom thickened at street level and I sensed eyes watching us from alleys and the shadowed alcoves of doorways. The crowds had thinned such that the nearest inhabitants walked a good ten feet in front of and behind us. Keeping their distance? Or respecting ours? Ellerin certainly looked like he could take on more than one or two dark Fae, either physically or magically. My own powers continued their gradual awakening, and they practically itched to be tested in a fight.

Where did that come from? Light Fae didn't sully themselves with direct conflict. They hired others to do their dirty work for them.

Kestrel walked closer to me. Seeking protection? Her wide-eyed gaze had turned anxious.

"This is more like I pictured. Like in fairy tales."

"Me, too." I had to admit I'd considered the dark Fae to be less civilized and advanced than the light Fae, so the modernity of the rest of the city had taken me by surprise. What did it say about me that I was relieved that my lower expectations were fulfilled? Buildings in a variety of stone colors and textures clustered together in a hard rainbow that curved around the narrow streets. The mismatch felt like a rebellion against the city of the light Fae, where everything glowed in shades of white, cream, and the occasional gold. Away from the magic that powered the vehicles, more odors filled the air, some pleasant and some not so. Kestrel wrinkled her nose as a plume of sulfur smoke came from a residence above us, and the yellow particles drifted down toward us.

"What was that?"

"Some sort of spell, I suppose. This is the type of place travelers come and pay dearly for favors, enchantments, and other ways to make their lives easier, or so they think."

Ellerin glanced over his shoulder. "Almost there. Are you all right?"

"Yes," Kestrel and I answered in unison. John didn't say anything. Ellerin either didn't notice his lack of response or didn't care.

The next bend brought us in sight of a large white building with accents that looked like wrought iron. But that couldn't be—all Fae were intolerant of the stuff. The ground floor housed a restaurant, from which savory smells of tomatoes and spices wafted toward us. My stomach growled and reminded me we hadn't eaten in several hours.

We followed Ellerin straight to the building, and I braced myself against the repelling force of the iron. But as we got closer, I didn't find the resistance I thought I would. I caught up to Ellerin and asked him, "Is the iron an illusion?"

"Mostly. This building exists both here and in New Orleans, and the iron is mostly there. It keeps the riffraff out."

I didn't ask how. Some places had a mystical connection that allowed such things to happen, and rules got bent in Faerie. As much as I wanted to believe in consistency, it didn't mean there was any. That's why I needed to get to my grandmother sooner rather than later—I believed she would take care of me if I could plead my case, but being in Faerie, in this alternate reality, meant that every day longer away from her made for erosion of my memory and favor with her. I hoped she hadn't forgotten about me already.