Dance with the Fae

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

‘W e should go,’ Kit said, dragging himself back to reality and away from the too-tempting prospect of kissing Valentine.

‘Of course.’ Valentine lowered her eyes and took her hand away from his cheek. They both picked up their bags and began the journey down the other side of the mountain.

‘Why did no one come to rescue you?’ Kit asked. Valentine’s story was like a scab he couldn’t resist picking. ‘The bard said you had brothers. Surely one of them should have come to rescue you?’

She kicked a small rock and sent it skittering ahead down the path. ‘The oldest was a drunkard from the age he could first raise a glass, and he could barely focus on what was ahead of him. The second was too cowardly to risk himself in the service of a sister.’

‘Was there a third?’ Kit asked. When her eyes widened, he explained, ‘I know in stories that threes are important. Isn’t it always the younger son who wins the day?’

He briefly thought of Alfred, who would no doubt have rushed straight to follow the fae if he’d been asked. Valentine clapped approvingly.

‘You do know some tales after all. Yes, there is usually a third and he succeeds where his brothers – or sisters – fail. My brother did try to free me. Often the prize is half a kingdom and the hand of the maiden. My brother wanted both. My master was not ever going to give him half a kingdom, and I emphatically did not consent to giving him my hand, much less the rest of my body with it.’

They’d reached the rock again, and she kicked it harder, sending it off the path and into the long grass that was growing at the side.

‘He tried to take it anyway, so I wept until my tears formed a pool, I carried the pool to the coldest place I knew and formed an icicle. I used that to pierce his heart. I preferred my slavery to a tolerant master than life as the plaything of a lecherous brother-husband.’

‘Yes, I imagine you would. As much as I love Addie, for most of our early lives we felt more like brother and sister.’

He turned away abruptly, finally giving words to his reluctance to marry Adelaide. The hesitancy when they kissed wasn’t due to any aversion to her sex: his tastes for men were seen as criminal and shameful, but he was not so unnatural that he didn’t find women equally appealing. He swallowed, feeling the hard thumping of his heart. Andrew’s much-loved and much-missed face swam before his eyes. He blinked it away, not wanting to dwell on that pain.

No, his reluctance to marry Adelaide was because there was no passion between them, only the deep affection of siblings. They were too close. If the older generation had wanted them to have a happy and full marriage, they’d have done better to keep the two cousins apart so that familiarity didn’t breed such awkward, incestuous feelings.

Kit had never considered that fairyland might have urban areas but just as he’d always been able to sense when he was growing nearer to a large city when on a train journey, he became aware they were approaching a town of some significance. The hamlets and villages got closer together, with more signs of businesses and industry and fewer single farms. The houses looked increasingly rundown, too. Paint was faded and gates often screwed together with mismatched planks of wood. The people, too, grew wearier looking and suspicious, stopping what they were doing to stare as Kit and Valentine passed, some narrowing their eyes, others bowing their heads.

Their clothing appeared to belong to earlier times –spanning centuries from medieval to the nineteenth century. Kit felt very conspicuous in his modern clothing and wished he’d thought to look for a cloak in the market instead of spending his time bartering for the bracelet.

Valentine was dressed in a long-sleeved tunic of subtly woven greys, with green braid at the sleeves and a purple scarf knotted about her neck. Dove colours. The realisation made him smile. With them, she wore a pair of closely cut fawn-coloured trousers and sturdy ankle boots. Her cap was pointed, making Kit think of illustrations of Robin Hood. All women should wear trousers, though of course Valentine wasn’t only a woman and he supposed she needed to wear clothes that would pass on a man. He tried not to stare at her striding athletically along, but she caught him looking and stopped to twirl around.

‘Do you like me in this garb? Your women don't wear trousers, do they. Unless they are riding a horse, of course. But I suppose a skirt would not be practical for that.’

‘I don't know,’ Kit said, relieved she had jumped to another subject before he’d had to admit he did like how she looked. ‘In the past, women wore skirts and rode side saddle.’

‘Very impractical,’ Valentine said. ‘Astride is much better. Have you ever tried side saddle? It's quite remarkably hard. All you have to grip between your legs is one small pommel. Can you imagine that? She burst into peals of laughter as he felt his cheeks colour.

‘Kit, you are so demure, you make me feel quite evil, as if I was a villain in a mummer’s tale trying to seduce the village maiden.’

She wheeled around, stopping directly in front of him so that he almost walked straight into her.

‘You aren’t a maiden, are you Kit?’ she asked flirtatiously.

‘Mind your own business,’ he snapped. ‘I'll take so much teasing, but there is a limit.’

Her expression of amusement dropped. ‘I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m just teasing, as you say. Be friends with me. I don’t want to draw attention to us.’

Her eyes darted around, and Kit realised they were being watched.

‘Do they know you?’ he asked her as a woman drew her children back.

‘Some will,’ Valentine said quietly. ‘Some will never love me but will not recognise why. Others will know whose woman I am by the bond I wear. It’s better if they don’t know who I am or what my purpose is. There are always some who embrace their servitude, even if they are barely aware of being in it and wouldn’t hesitate to inform him, I’m close to his stronghold. And while we’re thinking such things…’

She stuck out her hand and a passing cart stopped. She spoke briefly to the driver – a small man who came the closest to Kit’s view of what a storybook dwarf might look like – to ask if he was going to Fythcaster, and when he answered that he was, she paid him and clambered into the covered wagon he was towing, motioning to Kit to join her. They found space between boxes that contained glass baubles that looked to be filled with smoke and glitter. Kit reached his hand out, fascinated by the swirling contents.

‘Shake one and see your future,’ Valentine said darkly. ‘But beware, they’ll only tell you a half-truth and I’m not sure I want to know mine.’

He drew his hand back, certain that he didn’t want to know his.

Kit settled back. Valentine had mentioned people being unaware of their servitude, but she clearly knew and resented hers. He should have told her that it was not only to free Adelaide that made him determined to confront Silas Wilde, but to liberate her, too. Whatever he threatened, he knew inside him that Valentine would never become his enemy. The thing that bothered him was that he was growing increasingly certain that the place that occupied such knowledge was his heart.

By the time the sun was dipping down, Valentine called out to the driver, and they clambered out of the cart. It continued and Kit looked around, expecting them to be in the town Valentine had mentioned. Instead, they were at a fork in the road and the cart had turned right towards the red stone walls of the town, while Valentine started down the left, leading away from it.

‘I thought we were going to the city.’

‘I never said that. We’re going to find Silas. We’re nearly at his camp.’

Valentine hugged herself, whether from cold or for comfort, he wasn’t sure, but Kit suppressed the urge to wrap his arm around her. She had grown more serious the longer they had sat in the cart.

‘Do you need to stop?’ he asked. ‘If you’re tired or scared, you can compose yourself a little.’

‘No, but thank you.’

She drank from her water flask and handed it to Kit. He put his lips to the rim with no hesitation then saw her looking, with an odd expression in her eyes.

‘What’s wrong? Do I still need to ask if this is unconditional?’ he asked.

‘No, you don’t. It just made me think how easy it would be for someone to bewilder you but then you caught yourself and asked.’

‘I wouldn’t forget to ask if it was anyone else who offered,’ he said. ‘It’s only because it’s you that I almost didn’t.’

She drew a sharp breath and blinked.

‘How long before we reach his camp?’ he asked.

She looked at the sun, which had a slight green hue now that the distant hills had almost bisected it.

‘Another hour at most. It won’t be long till you get Adelaide back.’

She sounded solemn. It rubbed off on Kit. He would’ve expected to feel more joy at the thought of seeing her and his quest being at an end, but the enormity of his task ahead was daunting. He had no idea how hard it might be to confront Silas and win her back.

As if she could read his mind, Valentine frowned. ‘It’s possible that Adelaide is enraptured with Silas you know. I should warn you of that. I don’t mean enchanted or bewildered into thinking she cares for him. It’s very important to his code that every lover of his comes of his or her own free will.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean he wanted her to love him. He is very vain. Quite insecure, really. Don’t worry, though, you’re twice the man that he is.’

She blushed deeply as the words left her mouth, and Kit’s heart flickered. It hadn’t occurred to him in the slightest that Adelaide might feel anything other than hatred for Silas. Valentine clearly liked him, too, despite everything he’d done to her. It was troubling.

‘Valentine, I find myself liking you, though I never thought I would.’

Her face melted into a smile and the sight was so poignant that Kit had to force out his next words.

‘Don’t think for a moment, however, that I will put up with you helping Silas against me when we meet. If you try standing in my way, then you will become my enemy.’

‘That won’t have to happen,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ll see soon enough.’

Kit had expected the city. When that had not been the case, he had expected a castle or fortress – possibly something resembling the fairy-tale palaces that graced the Rhine built by the German king. What he found was a series of small walls that might once have been a medieval village, and inside that, a camp of shabby tents and caravans that had been erected higgledy-piggledy with no rhyme or reason to the positioning. The commanding officer from the training camp outside Harrogate would have taken one look before bawling every man out and making them start again neatly pitching in rows. There were people – and Kit had grown used to that description encompassing all kinds – milling around or sitting by various fires cooking food that made his belly rumble. He hadn’t eaten properly since the previous night at the Safe House.

Valentine took him by the hand, weaving her way deeper into the camp until they arrived at a large tent, slightly grander than the others.

‘Here we are,’ she said to Kit, joy in her voice. She raised her voice and shouted, ‘Silas, come out! We’re here.’

Kit tensed. He released Valentine’s hands, instinctively balling his fists. Silas appeared not from inside the tent, but from a smaller one to their left. He was carrying a green glass wine bottle in one hand and a wooden bowl in the other.

‘Valentine!’ He broke into a wide smile. ‘At last, my dearest, you’ve arrived. And Mr Arton-Price! How wonderful to see you here.’

He spread his arms wide in greeting, his face as delighted as if he was greeting his closest brother. Kit walked up to him, swung his fist back and punched the fae square in the belly.

‘Where’s my fiancée, you treacherous bastard!’

Silas dropped what he was carrying as he doubled over. He muttered something beneath his breath and waved a hand in a flourish. Kit flinched, anticipating a counterstrike, but the bottle and bowl simply floated to the ground and landed softly without breaking or spilling their contents.

Silas stood up. His expression grew serious, eyes and mouth narrowing into dangerous slits. Kit became aware that the familiar background hum of camp life had become muted and that he’d just been very foolish. He’d been in situations in the trenches where a single act or word could change the mood of the camp. He was deep in a world he didn’t understand, surrounded by friends and followers of the man he’d just assaulted. Tension congealed around him. Nevertheless, he readied himself, fists raised in his best-approved manner, weight settled evenly.

Silas blinked slowly and his good nature asserted itself on his face.

‘Yes, I rather thought you might want to do that. I’ll give you that one strike for free, though you’ll pay dearly for any more.’ He spread his hands graciously and raised his voice. ‘Let it be known that Christopher Arton-Price is welcome in my camp and is to be accorded every courtesy and civility, every freedom.’

The tension ebbed away and people began to go about their own business once more.

‘Where is Adelaide?’ Kit repeated trying to keep his tone more level. ‘I want to see her. Don’t make me ask a third time.’

‘She’s in her chamber,’ Silas said. ‘Are you sure you want to see her? She has changed somewhat.’

‘Of course I want to see her. She’s the reason I came here. Take me to her now.’

Silas bowed. ‘As you demand.’

He walked to the doorway of the grand tent. Kit followed but Valentine caught him by the sleeve.

‘Do you want me to come with you? You don’t know what you’re going to find in there.’

His senses fizzled. ‘You’re worried. Why? What has he told you?’

She shook her head. ‘Nothing that you haven’t heard.’

Kit’s throat tightened. ‘Thank you, but I think this is something I should do alone.’

He pushed back the curtains covering the doorway and walked into the tent, whereupon he was immediately overcome by a sense of disorientation that made his stomach churn. What had appeared small on the outside defied the laws of science, because the walls ascended upwards almost beyond view, spiralling away much further than the height of the tent should allow. The furnishings were reminiscent of a scene from a pantomime of The Arabian Nights that Kit had seen at school. Everywhere was plush and opulent, swags of burgundy and claret velvet and silks decorating the walls. In the centre was a large, double chaise longue, dressed in myriad shades of red. In the centre of it lay Adelaide.

She was not sleeping as Kit had feared but was as alive and awake as ever. His eyes swept over her looking for a sign of shackles of any kind or ill treatment, but there was none. In fact, she was reading a book and lazily plucking grapes from a bunch in a copper bowl at her side.

She had gone stiff when he entered, and her eyes had taken on that strange fuzziness that he remembered from when she’d spent time in Silas Wilde’s company back home. Then she smiled widely and leapt from the bed crying Kit’s name and flinging her arms about his neck.

‘Oh, Kit, darling, you came. I knew you would. Have you seen Silas? He’s been so keen for you to arrive.’

She kissed his cheek. She smelled of violet and almonds.

‘You were eating,’ Kit murmured.

‘Of course. I was hungry. Would you like some grapes? They are simply divine.’

‘Do you know what that means?’ Kit asked, his stomach twisting with consternation. He doubted Silas had taken the care to explain the nature of obligations and enchantments to her. Like Persephone, she may have been trapped by her need for sustenance.

‘It means that whatever they do to grow them here is something we need to learn. Papa’s hot house never produces anything like this,’ she said.

‘Adelaide, look at me. You’re not thinking straight.’ Kit took her by the shoulders and jerked her round to face him. Her eyes widened, then she pouted.

‘What’s wrong? Why aren’t you happy to see me? You’ve come all this way, and I missed you. I’ve been waiting for years to catch up with you. I thought you’d never get here.’

His legs went hollow, blood draining in horror at the implications of what she’d said.

‘Years? Addie, it’s only been three days since you went to sleep. Four at the most.’

‘For you, perhaps.’ She stroked his good cheek, letting her hand linger on his jaw and looked up at him. ‘Look at you. Still as handsome as the day we danced at our engagement party.’

He took her hand from his face and held it tightly. Her touch was disturbingly seductive, and he was struck by how little he wanted that. Had he ever craved it?

‘That’s less than a week ago.’

‘Look at me, Kit. I’m older than I was when we last saw each other.’

He studied her face. She looked healthier, which given that the last time he’d seen her she’d been lying comatose in her bed, was hardly a surprise. But her hair was longer and there were the slightest lines around her lips and eyes. Her figure looked fuller, too, in a way he couldn’t quite define. Time had indeed passed for her.

‘Wilde,’ he bellowed. ‘Get in here and tell me what you’ve done to Adelaide!’

‘Keep your voice down,’ she admonished in a low whisper.

She left his side and hurried to the chaise longue. Her gown was long and loose, silks and chiffons in purples and blues, gracefully falling and swaying as she walked, making him think of a moth. Her hair fell loose to her waist. He tried to remember how long it really was, but his brain refused to work. Silas walked through the curtains. Valentine followed him in, looking worried.

Kit grabbed Silas by the throat with one hand, and raised the other back in a fist.

‘What have you done to her? You told me she was unharmed, but she’s talking of being here for years.’

‘Kit, let him go!’ Adelaide shouted. A piercing wail rang out.

‘Now look what you’ve done,’ she snapped, her eyes accusing. She stalked to a rocking cradle on a wooden stand. The canopy over it appeared to be made from tulip petals held together by silver threads. From the cradle came the angry cry of a baby whose sleep had been interrupted. Adelaide picked up the bundle.

‘He’s only been asleep for an hour.’

She held the shrieking child tightly. It – he – had thick white hair and an indignant red face.

Kit’s hand, still on Silas’s throat, grew limp.

‘Whose child…’ he managed to blurt out.

‘Give him to me,’ Silas said. He shook Kit’s hand from his neck as if swatting an irritating fly, then walked to Adelaide, took the child from her and jiggled it over his shoulder.

‘Hush, Caelwen, my pup, Dada’s here.’

Adelaide was gazing at the fae and the child with a look of adoration that could only mean one thing. The fullness of her figure made sense. Her belly hadn’t yet shrunk back after childbirth and her breasts were those of a nursing mother.

Kit’s legs wobbled. A growl rose in his throat and somehow he turned it into speech.

‘Wilde, get out. Valentine, go with him please, I need to talk to my fiancée alone.’

‘About that,’ Adelaide said. She looked meaningfully at Silas, who coughed and jiggled the crying baby a little more gently.

‘I’m afraid I must refuse your request for privacy,’ Silas said. Until I know your intentions, I’m not prepared to leave my wife and child unprotected.’

‘Your wife ?’

Kit looked at Adelaide in disbelief.

‘We’ve been married a year and a half,’ she said happily.

‘No, Addie,’ Kit protested. ‘We’ve only been here a matter of days, and even if we hadn’t, he abducted you. If you’ve been forced into marriage, nothing can uphold it.’

‘There was no force,’ she said, only half meeting Kit’s gaze. ‘And perhaps you’ve only been here for three days, but I’ve been here much longer, I told you. It took us two years to cross through the forest but when we came out only three days had passed here.’

Silas gazed at her. ‘It gave us time together that has been the most precious I could imagine. I would not wish back an hour of my life.’

The shock of realisation, coupled with a staggering sense of betrayal, made Kit’s legs tremble. Adelaide had spent her extra time in a way he could never have contemplated. He took a deep breath, but the tent was stifling and the air tasted stale. The room began to spin. He felt himself losing control of his limbs and was suddenly very tired.

‘I came for you, Adelaide, and you didn’t wait,’ he mumbled before he fell sideways and into blackness.

* * *

Valentine caught Kit before he hit the ground and lowered him gently onto the deerskin rug. Adelaide took the baby from Silas and rocked it over her shoulder.

‘Silas, dear, go and help Miss Dove carry Kit to the bed,’ she instructed.

Silas walked over and knelt beside Valentine. The sight of a lord of the Fae obeying a human woman without question was the most disconcerting thing Valentine had seen for days.

She hitched one of Kit’s arms about her neck and motioned for Silas to do the same. Together they pulled him upright and settled him onto the chaise. Adelaide had put the now-sleeping baby back in his cradle and sat on the edge of the chaise looking at Kit with concern. It gave Valentine an odd feeling to see. Possessiveness. It wasn’t nice and made her feel slightly like a dog protecting a bone.

‘He’s fainted. Nothing more,’ she said then bit her lip. ‘Let him sleep a little longer. He’s had a hard couple of days.’

She cast a hand above his brow, murmuring a charm, and his eyes, which had begun to flutter open, closed once more. She was halfway to smoothing back the locks of hair that had fallen over his forehead but caught herself in time. Silas would surely spot an affectionate gesture such as that. She stood upright and folded her arms across her chest.

‘Let us leave Mr Arton-Price in the capable hands of Adelaide and go and talk over there,’ Silas said, pointing to the doorway and causing her to wonder if he’d spotted some sign of her affection for Kit. Never mind; she had plenty to say to Silas, in any case.

‘What in Mab’s name were you thinking, begetting a child on a mortal woman?’ she demanded as soon as they reached the relative privacy of the doorway. She could barely contain her exasperation. ‘Another half-fae?’

‘Where did you get such a voice?’ Silas looked taken aback at her vehemence. ‘When I left you in their world you were the meekest, most compliant woman I know. Are you sure it hasn’t been two years for you, too, for you to change so much?’

‘For me it’s been less than a twelve-night since you walked back to our realm and left me to fend for myself but if you thought I was always meek that’s only because you’ve forgotten what I am, or you didn’t bother to notice.’

‘I don’t like it.’

‘Well, you’ll learn to.’ She tilted her chin up defiantly.

‘Go back to how you were before,’ Silas said petulantly, folding his arms.

‘I most certainly won’t! I was all alone. I was scared and lonely at first and I had to grow into myself. I like me now.’

She felt an unfamiliar throbbing in her chest, the sound of drumming in her ears. She hadn’t been alone, Kit had been with her, and she had no doubt that it was his influence that had given her the confidence to use her voice. Though they had sparred and parried many times, his challenges had never been unfounded or unjustified.

‘You brought Kit with you, I see. Well done. Is he making you happy?’

She didn’t answer immediately. There were too many conflicting memories. She walked to the firebox that glowed gently in the centre of the tent and sat cross-legged on one of the large cushions in front of it, looking into the shadows that the glowing coals cast through the cut-out holes in the lid. Silas sat on his haunches by her side.

‘We weren’t talking about me,’ she said firmly. ‘We were talking about you getting Adelaide with child and how you had the time to do it. How did it take you two years to arrive here when it took us a matter of days? Was that your plan from the outset? How do you think another half-mortal will help matters?’

He looked embarrassed. ‘It wasn’t intentional. We got caught in a snicklegate as we came through Whenlock’s Wood.’

Despite the complications caused by the new situation, Valentine threw back her head and laughed. Snicklegates were patches of land where time moved differently. It could take days, weeks or, as Silas had discovered, years to pass through them while no time passed outside. Or, of course, one second inside while the decades spanned. The Silas Wilde she had known for years would never have been clumsy enough to fall through one.

‘You’re losing your touch.’

He smiled ruefully. ‘It was Adelaide’s fault. She ran after a lightmare and I couldn’t leave her to go alone. I’m glad I did, however, because it has given me two delightful years with her. As to how the child happened, in the usual way of things or course.’

His eyes glowed, the irises pulsing with mauve, as he looked over his shoulder at Adelaide. She smiled back at him with what looked like genuine affection.

‘I can prove it, if you doubt me.’ Silas held out his hand and she put her fingers on his wrist, feeling for a pulse. She gasped and tightened her hand.

‘It beats! Oh, Silas! A heart? You? The being who has caused women and men to pine away with love sickness! The marble-hearted lord of a thousand yearning souls.’

Silas shivered and closed his eyes.

‘For my great grief, yes.’

Valentine took her hand away. How odd that she’d been expecting to have to comfort Kit’s injured feelings, but had never suspected that Silas might be afflicted.

‘You know Kit is determined to take her back with him, don’t you?’ she cautioned quietly.

He opened his eyes again. ‘I do, and it will break the heart I have so recently grown. I just hope he will join our cause now he’s here, and not try to take her before we have freed our land. I would hate to have to kill him.’

‘I won’t let you do that,’ Valentine warned.

Silas raised his eyes. ‘It appears I’m not the only one to have become enraptured by a mortal.’

‘I’m not enraptured.’ She frowned. ‘He trapped me in iron. I didn’t expect that, and you didn’t warn me it could happen.’

Silas reached for her hand and stroked it soothingly. ‘Poor dear Valentine. Would you like me to inflict sores upon him? The inability to speak his esses? Breath that smells like dogs’ farts?’

She smiled at the indignation Silas displayed. ‘No. He was desperate to find out what was happening to Adelaide, so I don’t blame him. And when he saw the effects, he freed me, so I don’t think he understood the power of it at first.’

She stared over at the bed where Kit was lying. He looked so vulnerable that it was as if the string that had bound them as they crossed through the maze was drawing her towards him. When he woke, what would he think?

‘He understands about iron now, though. Good. You’ve done better than I had hoped. We just need to convince him to help us and I’m sure he will, now that he’s seen what our homeland is like,’ Silas continued. ‘When Adelaide adds her entreaties to ours, how can he fail to oblige?’

Valentine nodded doubtfully. Silas had a childlike mind at times. Now that Kit had seen that his fiancée had borne a child, he was less likely to want to help rather than more, but Silas appeared not to have considered that. He clapped his hands together.

‘Let’s put our minds to that and see what we can do. Adelaide, my love, you know him better than anyone.’

Adelaide stood gracefully and walked to them. She sat on the cushions, leaning against Silas, but with one arm pointing backwards towards the sleeping Kit in a way that made Valentine bristle. She hadn’t cared a fig for the relationship between the two humans before, but now, seeing them together was painful in a way she disliked. The woman seemed to want a claim on Kit, even though she had chosen Silas.

‘Tell me about your journey,’ Silas prompted.

Valentine drew herself taller. There was plenty that she could share and much of it would send a clear message to Adelaide that she had passed up a man who was better than she deserved.