Chapter 7
“ Where are they?” asked Richard explosively. “They should have returned hours ago.”
Eversleigh looked up from his book. “There is no reason to think they have come to any harm. Presumably something has delayed them, and they will be spending the night in Faerie.”
“Freddie does not simply decide to stay away overnight. She must know we would be concerned. Something is wrong.” Richard flung himself down in a chair, making it creak ominously.
“I agree,” Darcy said, struggling to keep his voice level. “I am concerned for them. Who could they turn to for assistance if a problem arose?” They would be helpless, and he could not stop it.
Eversleigh closed his book and set it aside. “Lady Aislinn is reliable, and they are with her. If nothing else, she would protect them because she knows I am involved with them, and she wants me to keep her role in this matter secret. There really is nothing to worry about.”
Darcy scowled. “Having spent a day and a night in a glamour trap designed to kill me, I am less certain that Faerie is a welcoming place.” The last time Elizabeth failed to return from Faerie, she would have died had he not come for her.
Richard nodded. “I should never have agreed to let Freddie go without someone to protect her.”
“How do you think you could have stopped her? You would have had to tie her up.” Darcy was in no mood to hear Richard blaming himself.
“I still believe they are perfectly safe, but if they do not return in the morning, I will go to Faerie myself to look for them. Simply to ease your minds, I might add,” said Eversleigh.
“I would like to accompany you if I may.” Darcy could not bear sitting around and waiting any longer, even if it meant returning to Faerie. The last trip had been nightmarish enough.
“A good idea,” said Eversleigh. “Perhaps you will see a different side of Faerie than you did last time.”
A HAND SHOOK ELIZABETH’S shoulder, rousing her from a deep sleep. “Libbet, love, wake up!”
Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. What was Bluebird doing here? The previous day came rushing back. Titania’s bower, that was where she was. Sprites tripped around the raised bank where Titania still slept. “What is it?”
“Prince Aelfric wishes to speak to you immediately,” said Bluebird. “He waits beyond the bower.”
Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbows. Who would have thought moss could make such a comfortable bed? “Perhaps I do not wish to speak to him.” Horrid man. Or horrid fay, in this case.
Bluebird hesitated. “I would not advise starting a conflict over a minor matter. If he were to claim his blood right, Titania would be placed in an unfortunate conflict with Oberon.”
“And I suppose the prince is more important to Oberon than I am to Titania.” Elizabeth made a face. “Very well, I will speak to him.” She stood up, wobbling on the springy moss. She must look a sight after sleeping in her dress, but she had no intention of wearing the scanty robes the fay favored. She tried to smooth her wrinkled skirt but it made no difference.
“I can do that for you.” Bluebird ran her hand down the skirt, and wherever she touched, the wrinkles disappeared.
As the dryad continued her magical pressing of the dress, Elizabeth said, “Oh, Bluebird, it is so good to see you again. I have missed you. I hope we will never have to be parted for so long again.”
“Indeed not!” said Bluebird with a warm smile. “It has been far too long.”
A thought crossed Elizabeth’s mind. “Why did you bring Pepper to me?”
Bluebird seemed unsurprised by this complete change of subject, but she would be accustomed to the Sidhe, who darted from topic to topic constantly. “She wanted to leave Faerie, and Titania asked her to look after you.”
Titania had been behind it? “Why did she want to leave Faerie?”
“White phoukas are considered unlucky. Female phoukas are rare and even worse luck because they do not have a human form. A female white phouka does not have an easy life here. She is much happier away from other fay.” Bluebird began working on the back of Elizabeth’s dress.
Poor Pepper. “If female phoukas are rare, how are more phoukas born?”
Bluebird laughed as she turned her attention to Elizabeth’s hair. “Oak and ash, child! Phoukas do not breed. When a brownie and a gnome have children, some are brownies, some are gnomes, and some are phoukas. Do you not remember?”
“These things are much less complicated in the mortal world, where all creatures look like their parents. When I was here as a child, I never thought to question such things.”
“Oberon should never have sent you away. The poor queen missed her Libbet so, and she could not visit you as I did.” Bluebird stepped back and admired her work. “There. Now you look lovely. ”
Elizabeth sighed. This was one time when she would have been happy to have her preparations take longer. “I suppose I should not keep Prince Aelfric waiting. Where is he?”
Bluebird guided her to the prince, who wore a doublet and hose that would have fit in perfectly at Queen Elizabeth’s court. “Good morning, my lord,” she said.
The prince did not even bother to nod. “I need you to take me to your father.”
“Oh, you do? Permit me to tell you how this conversation should go if you wish my cooperation. You would say ‘Good morning, sister; I hope you slept well.’ When I replied that I had, you might say, ‘I feel the need to speak to your father, but I do not know how to find him. It would be a considerable kindness if you would consider accompanying me.’”
He stared at her blankly. “That is a waste of time. How do mortals manage to accomplish anything when they have to use all those ridiculous words?”
“I shall not waste your time, then. I am certain Mr. Wickham is perfectly capable of guiding you to my father. Good day, my lord.”
“Wait!” He grimaced and spoke slowly through gritted teeth, as if each word pained him. “Would you be so kind as to take me to your father?”
His request still left a good deal to be desired in terms of proper address, but it had been a great concession on his part, and she felt an urge to oblige him. Of course she did – she remembered vaguely that fay kinship held magical bonds of obligation. Her throat tightened. Prince Aelfric was the last person in the world she wanted to feel compelled to obey.
Or perhaps she was doing it on her own behalf this time. After last night, she had a few things to say to her father as well. She had thought to have more time before she had to face him, but perhaps it was best to get it over with. “I will, but I would prefer not to be seen by the rest of my family.”
“Then be invisible.”
She sighed. “I am not fay. My skills are insufficient for me to maintain invisibility while I am moving.”
The prince wrinkled his nose. “I will make you invisible.”
“I than –” she caught herself just in time. “I would appreciate that. Bluebird, will you tell Lady – Marigold Meadowsweet where I have gone and that I shall return soon?” She certainly had no desire for a long conversation with her father.
“I will, but the queen spoke with her through much of the night, so she might not awaken for some time.”
What had Titania found to talk to Frederica about for hours? Whatever it was, Lord Matlock would be even more envious now.
“Why do you smile?” the prince asked suspiciously.
“Marigold’s father will be annoyed that she had that opportunity. Annoying him amuses me.” She waited for his reaction but he made none. Of course, the fay were always amused by playing tricks on mortals.
“We can use this circle,” he said.
“This one goes to Longbourn?”
“It goes wherever I tell it to go.” He sounded insulted she would think otherwise.
“So for lesser fay, a circle only goes to one place, but Sidhe can go anywhere?”
“Your education is sadly lacking if you did not already know that.” He stepped into the ring and waited for her.
“Yours is equally lacking about mortals if you believe they know they should not cut down faerie groves. You could save yourself a war by explaining it.” The familiar disorienting sensation was followed by the even more familiar earthy scent of the woods near Longbourn.
“They know. They are trying to harm us. ”
She felt the tingling of magic being applied to her. He must have made her invisible. “You are wrong. You know more about the fay than I do, but I know more about mortals than you do.”
He frowned ferociously, reminding her once more of Mr. Darcy, but said only, “Which way must we go?”
“This way.” She gestured down the path from the ring and set forth. When the path widened as they emerged into a pasture, permitting them to walk side-by-side, Elizabeth said, “You told me you wanted to see my father. What of my mother?”
He shook his head. “Not if she is under a spell. I will wait until she is herself again. You will have the spell removed.”
Stung, she said, “I have every intention of doing so, although not at your behest. I was already seeking a way to do so when I was interrupted by having to go to Faerie to tell Titania the truth about your foolish war. And then so much has happened that I have not had an opportunity to do even that much.”
He curled his lip. “Your truth being that mortals are ignorant of the groves.”
“More than that. We know people are falling ill and dying, and that it is because of the fay, but we do not know why they are hurting people. You, my lord, are fighting an enemy who barely knows your army is there, much less the reason for your war.”
He frowned. “I find that difficult to believe.”
“You ought to be able to tell I am not lying.”
He showed his teeth. “That particular skill only works in Faerie.”
“If I tell you again in Faerie, will you believe me then?”
“I will believe that you believe it. Are you always this argumentative?”
She gave him a patently false smile. “Only to those who deserve it. Look, there is Longbourn across the field. That is where you were born.”
He studied it, his expression shuttered .
How absurd this situation suddenly seemed! Not only was she magically at Longbourn without having traveled from Rosings, but she was here with a man who was clearly not human, one of a sort almost never seen in the mortal world. Her own sentiments on seeing Longbourn were decidedly mixed, the usual pleasure at viewing her home after time away mingled with the knowledge that so much of her life there had been based on falsehoods.
Better not to think too much of that, not when she had her father to face. She set off across the last field at a brisk pace, not looking to see if the prince followed her.
She stopped at the garden gate. “He will most likely be in his library, but if he is not alone, I prefer not to reveal myself to him.”
“As you wish.” He sounded less confident now.
“You are certain no one can see us?” Oh, how she wanted to run away! Anything but to face her father.
“Yes, but they could hear us, so we must be quiet.”
“We will be less likely to be heard if we go in through the back.” She squared her shoulders. It was time to finish this.
Fortunately there were no servants to notice the opening and closing of the door, and then it was just a matter of tiptoeing through the empty dining room to reach the library. She nodded to Aelfric and gestured to her body, and the cloak of illusion slipped away from her. Should she knock on the library door? No, someone might notice. She opened the door and stepped inside.
Her father looked up and his face lit with pleasure. “Lizzy! I did not hear you arrive. I am glad you are back. Is Jane with you?”
“Jane is still in London. This is a private visit just to speak to you.” In the familiar warmth of the library, the scene of so many happy memories, it was hard to maintain her anger with her father. “Or rather I brought someone who wishes to speak with you.”
“Who is it?” Mr. Bennet’s eyes widened as the prince dropped the illusion that hid him.
“Father, this is Prince Aelfric of the Sidhe.” A rude introduction, but it avoided the possibility of her father refusing to acknowledge him.
Mr. Bennet’s mouth settled into a straight line. “Fay folk are not welcome in my house, regardless of rank. I must ask you to leave.”
Prince Aelfric moved forward faster than any mortal could and stabbed his long forefinger on Mr. Bennet’s desk. “The last time you ejected me from this house, I was an infant, and I had no recourse. This time I will not leave until my questions have been answered.”
“You!” hissed Mr. Bennet. “Ask your questions, then, and be gone!”
The Prince raised his chin. “Who left me in the faerie ring?”
Mr. Bennet crossed his arms. “I did.”
“Did my mother know?”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes slid to Elizabeth. “No.”
“Did you tell her I was dead?”
A long hesitation this time. “Yes.”
The prince’s eyes narrowed. “Did you cast a spell on her to prevent her from going to Faerie?”
Elizabeth held her breath as she waited for his answer. When he finally spoke, Mr. Bennet sounded defeated. “Yes.”
Prince Aelfric’s eyes flashed. “That is all.” He spun on his heel.
“Wait! I have a question for you as well,” called Mr. Bennet.
“I owe you no answers.”
“Then you need not answer. But here is the question. Beautiful young mortal women seek out Faerie, where they are admired and treated as pets. What happens to them a few years later, when the bloom begins to fade from their cheeks, lines appear on their forehead, and their flesh begins to sag? Have you ever seen a mortal woman like that in Faerie? Or are they cast away like old rubbish?”
“Since there are no longer mortal women in Faerie, I cannot say.” He cloaked himself once more in illusion and left the room, leaving Elizabeth alone with her father.
Mr. Bennet removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I suppose you know who that creature is.”
Elizabeth could hardly speak for the nausea roiling her stomach. “I found out when I met him last night.”
“I am sorry you had to discover it. I had hoped none of you would ever know about your mother’s infidelity.”
He thought she would blame her mother? Now she wanted to cry. “Do you know what my greatest fear has always been?”
He sighed. “No, but I assume you are about to tell me.”
“I am terrified of being put under a binding spell and having my mind no longer be my own. You placed my mother under just such a spell. Now I must leave before anyone discovers my presence here.” She could not bear being in the same room with him any longer.
His bitter smile told her he knew she wanted to leave. “Very well. If you see your so-called prince, tell him he is fortunate I left him in a faerie ring. Any other man would simply have strangled him in his cradle.”
Elizabeth shrugged. She would tell him if she saw him. He was most likely back in Faerie by now, and she would have to skulk back to the ring to avoid being seen.
At the end of the garden, Elizabeth paused to look back at Longbourn. Familiar, beloved Longbourn where she and Jane had pretended to be princesses and pirates, the forbidden chestnut tree she had climbed, her bedroom window, the panes glinting in the sunlight, behind which she had shared so many confidences with Jane. Would she ever see it again? If she did, it would only be for a brief visit. It could never again be her home.
She gritted her teeth, trying to hold back tears. Her father’s role could no longer be denied. In some deep part of her, Elizabeth had nursed a hope that somehow he might have had an explanation for his behavior. Now she no longer had even that tiny consolation.
She trudged back to the faerie ring, not bothering to try to avoid the brambles on each side of the trail. At first she thought Aelfric must have left because she did not see his tall form in the glade, but as she pushed past the last bushes, she saw him crouching by an old oak, his long fingers scratching under the ears of a tabby cat with white paws.
“Gus!” she exclaimed, hurrying to the cat’s side. “I am so glad to see you.” Her voice caught.
“He came looking for you,” said Aelfric. “He followed your scent.”
She scooped Gus up in her arms and hugged him, a tear or two leaking into his thick fur. “He is a cat, not a phouka.”
“That is obvious.” He sounded insulted.
“Oh, Gus, I wish I could take you with me. Pepper misses you, too. But you would hate the long carriage ride so much,” she whispered to the cat.
“You could take him through Faerie.” Aelfric’s hearing was apparently acute.
She blinked hard to keep the tears back. “I thought only mortals with magic could travel to Faerie.”
“He is a cat,” said Aelfric, as if that explained everything.
Had they not already been through this discussion? “Yes, I know.”
“All cats have magic. Phoukas can only take the shape of animals with magic – horses, cats, dogs, ravens, and foxes.”
“Then I want to take him.” No one would miss him at Longbourn. “It was kind of you to wait for me. I did not expect it.”
He reached out a long, slender finger, and rubbed the fur under Gus’s chin. “I did not know if you had your talisman stone to allow you to use the ring. ”
She could not bear it if Aelfric was kind to her right now. “I do, but it was thoughtful of you to consider it.”
He scowled. “I do not abandon people.”
That had to have been one of the shortest truces on record.
JUST AS EVERSLEIGH was about to step into the faerie ring at Rosings, Darcy asked suspiciously, “Where will it take us?”
“To Oberon’s court. We will start our search there.”
“Because your father is an adherent of his?”
The corners of Eversleigh’s mouth turned up impishly. “No. Because Oberon is my father.” And the ground dropped out from under them.
This time the landing was gentle. They stood at the entrance to a long colonnade in the now familiar flower-scented air.
“Your father?” Darcy asked. “Are you serious?”
“Quite. Oberon is one of the few Sidhe who still regularly seek out mortal lovers. There are probably dozens of his children scattered around England. Well, perhaps not dozens, but quite a few.”
“Oberon’s son.” Darcy shook his head. “This is already different than my last visit. When I was here before, a gnome told me I should not pollute the ground of Faerie with my human footsteps, so I had to ride to the lord’s estate. Is it acceptable for me to walk here?”
Eversleigh grinned. “My friend, you have been the subject of a fay prank. The gnome could have sent you anywhere in Faerie using the rings. You may walk wherever you please.”
That long, precarious, blissfully torturous ride with Elizabeth in his arms had been a prank?
His stupefaction must have shown, for Eversleigh added, “The lesser fay love to play jokes on mortals, and they are very good at it. Come; we do not have far to go.”
“But Pepper must have known it was a prank, and she still took part in it.”
“Did you think your phouka friend does not also enjoy pranks?”
They set off down the colonnade. After a short distance it intersected a wide path leading to a living arch of trees. Eversleigh strode through it without hesitation, so Darcy did as well.
“I must pay my respects to Oberon before proceeding. It would be a slight if I did not,” said Eversleigh apologetically.
“I can wait outside while you do so.” It was not mere politeness. Meeting Lord Cathael had been terrifying enough. Darcy had no desire to be face-to-face with the Sidhe king who wished to wage war on all mortals.
“Sorry, my friend. You cannot escape that easily. I cannot have it said that I brought a mortal here without Oberon’s knowledge. Besides, it will do him good to be reminded that not all mortals are monsters.” Eversleigh clapped his arm. “Don’t worry. Faerie royalty requires far less ceremony than their mortal cousins do.”
Darcy was beginning to regret not waiting at Rosings while Eversleigh searched for Elizabeth and Frederica. “Very well.”
“One moment.” A flower appeared in Eversleigh’s extended hand and he offered it to Darcy. “Wear this in your lapel. It will permit you to understand the language of the Sidhe. No need to gape at me – fay spells are very simple. I wished for a flower to allow you to speak this language, and it appeared. Had I wished for a flower to kill you with slow poison, that would have appeared.”
Darcy gingerly tucked the small white flower into his lapel. Elizabeth had wished for an apple, and it had appeared. “I will be cautious from whom I accept gifts.”
“A good idea, although it would be considered poor form to give you a harmful gift. ”
The trees in the colonnade began to be more frequent until their trunks were close enough together to become a wall of sorts. When they came to a door guarded by two elves armored in heavy leather holding crossed halberds to block entry, Eversleigh nodded to each of them in turn without breaking step. They uncrossed the halberds and stood them upright. One reached behind him to open the door.
For a moment Darcy thought the door had led them outside again. Unlike Lord Cathael’s hall of silver filigree, the walls of this room were alive. Branches heavy with leaves grew out of the walls made of tree trunks. Vines and ivy grew upward covering much of the bark. By some magic, the branches arched up at equal intervals, joining together in the center like the peak of a fine pavilion. Beyond them something twinkled.
A Sidhe scribe sat to one side, working at a burlwood desk covered with ancient parchments. A map hung from the wall in front of him.
Eversleigh swept a full court bow to the scribe, so Darcy did the same.
The scribe carefully set his quill in an inkstand before rising to hold out his hands to Eversleigh. “Evlan, my boy. You have returned.” He grasped wrists with Eversleigh.
My boy? Surely this simple Sidhe dressed in a nondescript tunic could not be Oberon!
“It is a pleasure to see you once again,” said Eversleigh.
“Your brother misses you,” the king said.
“I have missed him as well. I have brought a friend with me today, a mage known among mortals as Darcy. He has been meeting with our mortal leaders in the hope of persuading them to protect the sacred groves.”
Silver eyes turned to assess Darcy. “Why?”
Darcy’s mouth went dry. What had Cathael said? “Because our two worlds are bound together like twins in the same womb, and anything that interferes with that binding harms both of our worlds. We mortals have been too busy in our short lives and have forgotten our ancient responsibilities. It is time for us to remember them.” The magic flower must be granting him eloquence as well as a new language.
“Your efforts do you honor.” Oberon stepped forward in that unnaturally quick fay movement and laid two tapering inhuman fingers on the side of Darcy’s neck just above his cravat. His cold fingertips tingled with magic. “I grant you the freedom of Faerie, Darcy.” He said the name with an odd accent, as if it had three syllables.
“You honor me,” said Darcy, his newfound eloquence abandoning him.
Oberon turned back to Eversleigh. “You will see your brother?”
“I will.” Eversleigh bowed again.
Oberon shuffled back to his desk. Apparently they were dismissed.
Darcy let out a long breath as he followed Eversleigh past the halberd-bearing elves and further down the long colonnade.
“Well done,” said Eversleigh. “It is a great honor to be named by the king.”
“What do you mean?”
“He gave you a fay name. Most mortals who come to Faerie are renamed here, just as I am Evlan here and Eversleigh in our world. To all fay you will be Diarcey. It is a traditional fay name that means dark. Not a very imaginative choice in your case, I grant you, but easy to recall.”
“I thought he was simply mispronouncing my name.” A fay name? He was not certain he liked that idea.