Chapter 44
T he morning sunrise tinges the sky pink, fading up into a soft buttery yellow then blue.
The mountains are bluish-gray silhouettes against the sky, with low fog filling the valleys.
On a morning like this, it’s easy to see why they’re called the Smoky Mountains.
The vast swaths of green trees are almost jarring after my time in the Unseelie land. There’s just so much life here.
Maybe there can be life like this there again.
The hopeful thought comes unbidden, lifting my spirits as I adjust my posture in the driver’s seat and wiggle my fingers on the steering wheel.
I’ve been gripping it way too hard, a fact my body is well aware of.
An unfortunate side effect of driving too fast through mountainous roads in the predawn hours.
“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” I ask Matt as we come around another bend, only to be greeted with even more trees.
“Pretty sure,” he says.
“Pretty sure?” I echo, annoyed.
He shrugs from his place in the passenger seat as he stares at his phone. “The signal is a little spotty up here, but we should be there soon.”
God, I hope so.
“Nothing from the parents?” I ask.
“Nope.”
It’s only a matter of time before Mom and Dad wake up and realize we’re gone and we took their car like the reckless, rebellious children we apparently are.
We left a note. But they’ll still panic over Matt being out of the house. Healed or not, that’s going to be jarring. At least they’ll know we weren’t kidnapped and hopefully won’t call the cops.
Not that it will matter if we actually find this place soon. We’ll be in Faery. Out of reach.
I really hope they don’t have a heart attack over this. The rollercoaster of emotions is going to be a doozie.
Matt leans forward in the seat. “Slow down.” He points out the front windshield. “That might be it.”
A gravel drive appears ahead on the right. I slow the car, nearly bringing it to a stop in the road.
“545 Bent Pine. This is it!” Matt says.
Finally. But the relief I expect doesn’t come. If anything, the knot in my stomach grows tighter, my muscles tense as I turn into the long driveway, gravel crunching beneath the car tires.
A cabin looms ahead, probably an old one based on the design. But the paint looks new, as does the shiny metal roof. The front porch wraps around toward the back on one side, and there’s a man wearing a red plaid shirt sitting in a rocking chair and having what’s presumably his morning coffee.
The chair stills as he sets aside his cup and rises.
“That’s him? John Ashmore?” I whisper as I let the car continue to crawl forward.
“Looks like it,” Matt replies, chipper as ever. “Now we don’t even have to knock.”
Somehow, it feels like knocking would have been preferable.
Matt has unbuckled and is practically leaping from the car seconds after I’ve shifted it into park.
“Hey there,” he calls.
The man, John, leans on the porch railing, taking us in.
I blow out a deep breath and shut off the car. “Time to get this over with,” I mumble to myself.
“Are you John Ashmore?” Matt asks.
The man gives a brusque nod in return.
“Great. You see, my sister Aimee”—he gestures to me—“and I are here because we need your help.”
He shoves back from the railing. “We don’t do interviews.”
“Oh, no, we’re not here for that,” Matt continues.
But John has already picked up his mug and heads for the front door. We cannot lose his help.
I step forward and blurt, “We’re here to stop the war in Faery.”
He halts, glancing over at me.
“There’s a war brewing between the Seelie courts and the Unseelie,” I say. “We think we can stop it, if you’ll help us.”
He drops his head and gives it a shake, but it’s a look I’ve seen on southern men all my life—not a refusal but more of a resigned what the hell have I gotten myself into . Then he calls from the porch, “Guess you all better get on in here.”
The morning sun has fully risen as we climb the hill toward the Faery door. What is it with all the doors to Faery being in the absolute middle of nowhere in the woods?
“You were really in the Unseelie place?” John’s daughter, May, asks where she walks backward ahead of me.
“I was,” I reply.
May’s ability to traverse the woods with the ease of a deer is truly something. Matt keeps shooting her enviable glares as I help him along. She isn’t trying to show off. She doesn’t know that Matt could barely walk two days ago. And the sighs that follow his glares say he knows it too.
It’s weird seeing Matt envious. He’s always been so good at hiding that emotion, though I’m sure he’s felt it more than most.
Bringing a little kid along was not part of the plan. But apparently her mother is out of town on business, so we had no choice. It’s worked out all right so far though, so I really can’t complain.
“So cool!” She whips around in a flurry of pink and blonde. “I went there too,” she says proudly, as she marches on ahead. “Though I didn’t get to see any of it.”
May was taken captive by the Unseelie, Katiya specifically, as part of a ploy by the Court of the Forest gone very wrong.
Normally, children can’t enter Faery. Their gifts and their minds are not quite mature enough to handle it.
But May was kept asleep for days, and somehow that caused her gift to mature quickly beyond her years, making her able to handle it.
Matt mentioned on the drive that the coven wants to try it with other children, but no one has yet volunteered their kid for such an experiment, nor can I see anyone wanting to.
Actually, I’d be pretty damn concerned if someone wanted to risk their child’s sanity in such a way.
“You were so brave,” Matt says from just behind me.
“I know,” May chirps in response.
He just shakes his head.
The moment we crest the hill, I know we’ve reached the doorway to Faery.
Large trees sit in a ring around a verdant clearing.
Small colorful wildflowers sprout up from the stretch of grass.
If the unnatural pattern of trees didn’t make it obvious enough, the tingling in the air that raises the hairs along the back of my neck would.
John halts at the edge of the clearing. His arm shoots out, blocking his daughter from prancing into the circle. “The concern you mentioned,” he says, turning to us as we join him. “The Forest is safe?”
“As far as we’re aware,” Matt confirms, between deep breaths.
For now , I add silently.
The short trek has taken it out of my brother, though I’m pretty sure that has everything to do with him being out of shape and unused to a lot of movement, not a regression. He gives me a thumbs-up, even though sweat beads his brow as he leans over with one palm on his thigh.
John nods and steps into the circle. “Think about wanting to be in Faery.”
It only takes a breath.
One moment, I’m on top of that hill. With the next step, the world around me has completely changed. The circle of trees has become one of monolithic stones. The forest that spreads out beyond is entirely different—lush and thick but alien all the same.
Some trunks spiral upwards. Some leaves bear hues across the rainbow instead of our usual green and brown.
Other trees appear almost upside down, branches digging into the earth like claws.
The soft hum of insects and bird calls has shifted to a new tune played by new creatures.
Even the smell is different, more floral, more… alive .
“We’re. In. Faery!” Matt cries with a delighted squeal, his discomfort from the short hike gone in an instant.
Someone jumps to attention where they’d been sitting on a rock just outside the doorway. “Oh!”
They wear the armor of a Forest guard in tones of greens and browns, a green tree emblazoned across their chest. The fae male hurries toward us, eyes wide. He appears young, even by fae standards. In our world, I’d peg him as a high school kid.
“Welcome,” he announces, appearing startled by our sudden arrival.
“I can’t believe it,” Matt says to himself, turning in place and looking at everything but the fae who’s just announced themself.
“We’re here to see my daughter Lia,” John says, “promised consort and soon-to-be Queen of the Forest.”
The fae’s eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh yes, of course.” They glance around, pale cheeks flushing a dusty rose. “Just wait here. I will send someone back for you as soon as I am able.”
He doesn’t wait for a reply before turning and darting off into the woods with blinding speed.
“Was that typical?” Matt asks after a few seconds when it becomes apparent that the fae is going to be a minute.
“No,” May answers with a deep frown. “Where are the normal ones?” she asks her father.
He rubs at the stubble on his chin, expression grim. He looks pointedly at Matt and me. “Busy, it seems.”
At war? My stomach drops.
Uncomfortable silence, broken only by May’s comments on a show about unicorns that she’s apparently obsessed with, lingers until magic shivers through the air and a pair of fae appear only a few feet away from us.
It’s so sudden that I stumble back, nearly knocking into Matt, who has been looking around at everything with wide eyes and clearly fighting the urge to wander off and discover everything about this world he’s always wanted to explore.
These two are still clothed as warriors, but their armor is much more intricate than the fae from before.
Golden trees are emblazoned upon their chests rather than green.
Neither wears a helm, giving us a view of their features, though both look ready for battle, with swords strapped to their backs.
One, a female, I believe, has long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail and is of slight stature.
I almost mistake her for a youth as well, but the sharp look on her face and confidence in her stance belie that.
The other, decidedly male fae, has more olive-toned skin in contrast to the paler blonde woman and wears his brown hair cut just past his ears, a golden leaf dangling from one of them.
“Sylvie,” John says, sounding relieved. “Galen. How is Lia?”
“Well and safe,” Sylvie says. “Who are—”
“You’re the Sylvie and Galen?” Matt interrupts, drawing closer and leaning in toward the two fae. To Galen, he says, “I’ve read all about how you were forced to betray the king and then betrayed another to get back to the woman you loved. And this is her?” He beams at Sylvie.
She smiles uncomfortably. Galen closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Oh, good grief. I grab Matt’s shoulder and pull him back.
“Not what we’re here for,” I remind him in a harsh whisper.
“Oh.” He catches himself, rocking back on his heels and waving his hands in front of himself. “Sorry, I got excited.” A broad smile still beams across his face.
John sighs. “These two say they have information that can help avoid a war. Can you take us to Lia and the king?”
Galen opens his eyes and drops his hand. “Lia, yes. But the king is not here.” He and Sylvie share a look. “War is already upon us.”