Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Truthfully, despite all of Rowan's dour predictions and Mercy's panicked revelations, I had still been expecting that, when I got out into the woods, it would be a bunch of kids dressed up in glittering makeup and pretending they were being transported to the Far Realm.
And then I would come in and automatically destroy their secret rave by being an uncool adult in their space.
I would definitely go from being the cool mentor figure to the annoying slapstick side character in a comedy.
But at least the kids would be safe; no harm no foul.
We’d all get home in time for the winter holiday of our choice, and maybe I’d find out if my neighbor’s friendliness was a one-time-only experience, or if the Cold War we had going on was heating up.
Wait, was that a good thing?
The trail ahead of us darkened, the large oak trees blocking out city lights and the last lingering fingers of daylight in the sky. It was pitch-black, and I stumbled over a root, reaching forward, trying to brace myself for a fall, when Rowan grabbed my hand, holding it tightly in his.
He didn't seem to have a problem seeing as he tugged me forward. I followed behind him, stumbling until he slowed his pace, and his hand was warm, his skin so soft, and I could smell the scent again, earthy and rich.
“Do you think—”
Turning in the dark, he put a hand up, and I didn't stop in time, so his fingertips landed on my lips, lingering there, sending every nerve ending alight.
“You must be quiet,” he murmured, leaning forward to whisper the words into my ear.
I felt a shiver over my skin, and at first I thought it was just his closeness, the intimacy of his touch, but then I realized it was more than that. Magic trailed over me.
“What are you doing?” I kept my words quiet but felt his fingertips drag over my lips as I spoke.
“Keeping you safe,” he said. And that was confusing. More than confusing.
Why did I need to be kept safe? And how?
He turned, his hand pulling away from my mouth as he walked into the darkness, his other hand still pulling me along behind him. The first lights seemed accidental, small pricks of them hanging between the branches of trees, lit like fireflies, except I had never seen any fireflies in San Amaro.
Then there were more, clustering together and flowing in gentle patterns like a galaxy of pale yellow lights.
They lit the way in front of us, and we weren't in oak trees anymore.
Instead, strange trees surrounded us with brittle leaves that seemed as though they would break if we looked at them too hard.
We continued walking, and even though the path was now lit up well enough for me to see, Rowan didn't let go of my hand.
The trees themselves began to glow, the first few a bronze color, and when I reached over to touch one, it was made of pure metal. A silver group of trees followed, then gold. We exited with trees whose leaves were made of pure gemstones—rubies and amethysts, sapphires and emeralds.
The metal trees glowed brightly and grew around a large, open circle. The trees stood still; the only movement was the glittering people in front of us.
None of them were high school students, not even high school students dressed up in their fanciest party clothes.
All of these people had long pointed ears and wore reds and oranges, gold patterning on every cuff and seam.
The music seemed to echo from within the trees, as though they were wind chimes that joined together to make music you could actually dance to.
Rowan pulled me to the side, nearly in the shadow of an enormous silver tree, his breath coming quickly. It must have been a nightmare for him, to be back in the place that kidnapped him.
He wasn't looking at me, instead using his body to guard me, pressing me up against the tree and hiding me from view. He looked over his shoulder, and I could see from the tension in his body that something was very wrong.
Without thinking, I reached up, touching his cheek gently, trying to bring him back. We were in the Far Realm, and he might be my only chance of saving my students. More than that, my heart ached for him. Something in his frightened look was painfully familiar.
I had thought him so cool, so calm under pressure, when the reality was that he had no reason to be awkward in a very human social situation. He had faced nightmares worse than refusing to take an offered gift of cookies.
Reaching up, I kept his cheek in my hand, and that was the first time I saw my arm. I stilled, even as he turned to look at me.
Where my skin had been a very human shade of brown, now lines of glowing amber traced down my arm. My jacket had gone from something I picked up at a North Face sale to something made entirely from gossamer thread, as though a spider had spun its web around me.
Rowan was staring at me, and I was still touching his cheek, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on his jaw. I shook myself, fixing my eyes on his.
“It's okay. You can go back home. I'll figure out a way to save the kids on my own. You shouldn't put yourself through this again.” I tried to make myself certain it was true, tried to believe it.
He frowned at me but didn't pull back from my touch. After a long moment, I felt him inhale deeply, and then he shook his head.
“We need to blend in,” he said. “In order to find your students.”
I frowned, trying to find more words to reassure him, when he reached up, covering my hand with his and stepping back, drawing me with him. He stepped backward again, then pulled me close, his arm wrapped tight around me, hand pressed against my lower back.
In one sweeping motion, we began to dance, and I realized that we had stepped onto the dance floor. We spun in circles, the glittering party around us turning into streaks of color and light.
A man with the horns of a deer dipped his partner, whose dress spilled like water over her shoulder.
In the corner, an orchestra made of chipmunks and badgers played a jaunty tune, one of the squirrels running from tree to tree, each footfall causing the musical notes I had heard when we first entered the glade.
“What are we doing?” I asked, trying to focus on Rowan, even as my eyes caught on a woman with bird wings who floated above the party as though it was an updraft.
“Your students are the biggest prize at this party. Stealing them away from the human realm will be enough to earn even the Autumn King's favor,” Rowan said. Someone turned to look at us, and Rowan reached forward, dragging his hand across my face.
I blinked, feeling a mask cover my skin and seeing another on him. We spun around and around, following the flow of dancers through the woods as they dodged in between trees, finally coming back to the glade.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, keeping the question quiet enough that I was pretty sure the people around us couldn't hear.
Through his mask, I watched his eyes as Rowan considered me. For a moment, I was afraid he was going to ice me out again, ignore my question entirely, but then he answered.
“You offer me your name, August Bright, as though it is not a gift. But I see it for what it is. It is a treasure beyond measure.” His words were low, and they made something shiver inside of me.
“I wondered if you thought to trap me with your gifts of name and sustenance, but then I realized that you value yourself so little that you do not see your offerings for what they are.”
I gaped at him. It was the most he’d ever said to me, and the strange formality of it made it hard for me to breathe. I swallowed.
“And what are they?” I asked.
“They are an opportunity for me to change. They are a gift, freely given, even if you do not know the words to say it.” Rowan's eyes burned into me, and I felt heat pool in my stomach, felt my whole body shiver in anticipation.
I looked away. Whatever the outcome was would have to wait until we found my students.
Biting my lip, I worried. I didn't see them anywhere. With all the sparkling strangeness, the glittering, gossamer beauty of this place, I didn't see any human children.
All at once, the music stopped, and a murmur went through the crowd, each of the dancers turning to face an arch that hadn't been there moments earlier. It was made of thin branches that looked brittle and dry, small clusters of red berries delicately placed along it.
The rest of the party seemed to fade to darkness, only the arch glowing, and then I saw my students. They walked through, one at a time, their human clothing abandoned in favor of thick dresses and suits made from red and brown velvet, gemstones creating swirling patterns in the fabric.
Beside me, Rowan was still, and I wasn't even sure he was breathing. Was this bringing back memories for him? Was he remembering a time when he had been presented like this before all of these fae?
Each of my students ascended stairs made from polished wood to sit on thrones in front of the crowd. Six on one side, six on another, and in the center, one enormous throne that wasn't filled.
Beside me, one of the fae inhaled sharply, the sound like wind passing through a pile of fallen leaves. Ahead, with the sound of branches cracking, another fae grew in height, her hair turning to bats and fluttering away as her body became a thin, leafless tree.
Then, a man strode through the arch. His hair was dark, his eyes glinting gold, and a crown of dried leaves decorated his brow.
He walked up the steps, settling himself into the last empty seat, and as soon as he sat, he began to glow, and light returned to the party. Around me, I could hear the murmurs of the fae and feel Rowan tense.
I didn't need his help to understand what was going on. That was the king of the fae, and he had claimed my students as his.
I took a step forward, feeling Rowan tighten his fingers on mine, his nails digging in like claws. I turned to him, but before I could say anything, another voice rang out.
“You have no right to them. Free them.” I spun, searching through the crowd, but I didn’t have to look hard. The fae parted around Bastian where he stood in front of the chairs.
He was trembling, shaking.
The man on the throne smiled, and it was a horrible expression, his lips parting to reveal sharpened fangs.
“Who are you to tell me what to do, little halfling? Little changeling? Abandoned by your mother and father, abandoned by your human parents as well. I can see the fear in you. Come.” The king opened his hand, gesturing.
And, impossibly, another chair opened next to him.
“Come and sit at my side, and you will be welcomed. You will belong.”
Bastian wrapped his arms around himself, as though trying to quiet the tremors that shook him. I dragged myself free of Rowan, pushing through the crowd.
“Unwanted, unliked, unloved. Come, changeling, sit at my side and belong again to your own kind.” The fae king's voice rustled the tree leaves, the gemstones clinking together like laughter around us.
Bastian's shoulders hunched. I stepped in front of him.
“I don't understand what you've done here,” I said to the king. “But you don't have any claim over these children. They're mine. They're my students. They're my pups. And that means you can't touch them.”