Chapter Eight
ABBY
SAMUEL LEADS ME down the street and around the corner.
It opens to a larger square, and I eye a white, rounded building that stands several stories taller than the ones surrounding it. Narrow, arched windows cover each surface, but it’s the pointed blue roof that captures my attention.
A bell tower. Cute.
Samuel leads me past it and around another corner, this one narrow like the one where we met. Stone and brick houses are on either side of me, and I hate how loud my footfalls are against the cobblestone.
The town is eerily quiet.
“Where is everybody?” I can’t help but ask.
Samuel peers at me over his shoulder. “It’s mealtime. I imagine most have retired to eat with their families, but the streets will be busy again soon enough.”
I hum. “Why were you out?”
“I lost track of time,” he admits. “I was leaving to get food, so this is convenient.”
Samuel stops before a pair of dark, wooden doors and pulls them open. Quiet piano music pours out from inside, and I’m relieved when Samuel enters first. I wasn’t going to volunteer to be the first to step inside the dim, spooky building.
The interior is dark, and it takes my eyes a brief moment to adjust. The magic swirling through the air stands out more in the dim lighting, the tiny specks reflecting the light pouring down from the ceiling.
Despite the many differences between our realms, I recognize this place as a restaurant. There’s a host desk directly in front of the doors, and beside it is a slim faerie with long, bushy eyebrows and gray, linen clothing. Behind him are several rows of booths. Tall privacy walls separate each eating area, so I can only make out the corners of tables and the occasional elbow.
The privacy, coupled with the dim lighting, gives this place an intimate feel.
My heart pounds, and I practically hide behind Samuel as he approaches the host. I want to stay out of sight until I have a better grasp of this world.
“Table for two,” Samuel says.
I look up, trying to pinpoint the lights, but the entire ceiling glows a deep-amber haze. It’s beautiful, and I want it for my bedroom.
The host steps out from behind his booth, and I nervously grab my backpack straps as I look him over. He’s got the same blond-white hair and violet eyes as Samuel, and I find myself holding my breath as his gaze falls on me.
His expression remains neutral, showing no emotion as he scans me from head to toe. I slide my hands behind my back, hiding them from view, and I relax only when he turns and walks down one of the aisles. Samuel and I follow, and it takes every bit of strength I have not to peek at the eating faeries we pass. I want to gawk at them so badly, but that’ll only invite them to look at me in return.
The host stops in front of a small, empty booth and steps aside, and Samuel and I quietly lower ourselves into the seats on opposite ends of the table.
I expect the host to say something, maybe that our server will be with us in a moment, but he simply spins around and walks away. I watch him disappear before turning back to Samuel.
He’s the first to speak. “You never told me your name.”
I know I haven’t, and I’ve been avoiding doing so.
Should I lie? I don’t know how much access the faeries have to the human realm, and I don’t want to give him my name and risk him looking me up. That could lead him to Lill, and that’s out of the question. I refuse to expose her.
“Abby,” I say, purposefully leaving out my last name.
There are millions of Abbys in the human realm, and he won’t be able to find anything with that—especially if he doesn’t know where I’m from.
Samuel nods, and I practically jolt out of my seat when the center of the table lifts. A circle the size of my head raises about a foot in the air, and it continues upward as another platform with menus appears from underneath and fills the gap.
Nothing connects the two platforms, and my jaw drops as the first one continues to the ceiling and smoothly slides away.
Samuel remains silent as he watches my outward shock, but he doesn’t say anything about it as he grabs a menu.
It’s a small slip of paper, and I force myself to relax and grab the second one. It’s in English, which makes me realize that Samuel speaks English. The faeries and I share a language. That doesn’t seem right.
We don’t speak as we read over our menus, but I spend the entire time thinking through the questions I want to ask. There’s so much I need to learn, and I don’t know where to start.
“Where is Farbay?” I eventually ask, setting the menu in front of me. “You said that’s where the break in the wall is.”
Samuel nods. “You’re currently in Callonton, and Farbay is the border city directly south of here. It’s a several hour ride away, as I’ve already explained.”
I blink.
Samuel continues. “There are rumors that the princes will be traveling to the portal of the gods, though. If that’s true, the area will be heavily monitored.”
I’m already exhausted. “And what’s the portal of the gods?”
Samuel peers at me over the top of his menu before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a shard of dark glass. It’s about the size of his palm, and I cock my head to the side as he sets it on the table between us.
The magic flecks around us begin to swirl and funnel into the glass, and I blink several times to ensure I’m not hallucinating as it glazes over and turns black. The blackness spreads, continuing until it takes up a decent portion of the table, and then it shifts upward to form a three-dimensional, detailed map.
I’ve never seen anything like this.
“I need to get one of those,” I mumble.
Samuel lets out a quiet laugh. “Humans can’t yield magic. This would be of no use to you.”
I hope that’s not going to be a common theme here. It makes sense that faeries would have most of their technology centered around magic, but that doesn’t bode well for me.
“This is Bellmere,” Samuel says, pointing to a spot near the left of the map. “Our capital.”
The map is split into three sections. On the left is a large stretch of land covered in rolling hills and dense cities. Bellmere is the largest one.
Samuel slides his finger east, pointing to a spot nestled between two long mountain ranges and a large river.
“This is Callonton, where we are now,” he explains. He slides slightly south, toward the edge of a natural forest barrier. “And this is Farbay, where you need to go.”
The entire bottom half of the map is covered in forest, and I already know what he’s going to say as he taps his finger against the area. “And this is the Redstall Forest. Faeries don’t go there.”
“Why?” I blurt out.
Samuel shoots me a look. “We’re getting there.” The entire right side of the map is one large, empty section of land. “These are the shifter deadlands. Alpha Caspian angered the gods when he kidnapped and tortured Lyra, and they turned the shifter kingdom into ash as punishment. The shifters retreated into the Redstall Forest, where they now live. It’s been generations since we’ve had eyes inside.”
Who the fuck is Lyra? And who the fuck are the shifters?
Lill’s told me before that most mythical human stories were written by people who had knowledge of the faerie realm, so while the details may have been changed, the general premise is usually correct.
I’m going to assume shifters are similar to the human equivalent of the title, then. They’re werewolves. Beasts. Giant animals that shift between man and animal.
I clear my throat. “So shifters live in the forest?”
Samuel nods. “Yes, so I will ask again: What are you looking for in there, little human?”
I shake my head, refusing to answer. This knowledge does not change my plan. Delysum grows in the forest, and I need to collect it.
“Are the shifters friendly?” I take the risk of asking.
Samuel shrugs. “To humans, maybe.”
“But not to faeries?”
“Not in the slightest.” He lets out a short, cruel laugh. “Dirty fucking animals trespassed into our lands and claimed them as their own, and it’s like they expect us to thank them for it.”
Well, that’s a strong opinion.
I wish I had my phone so I could take a photo of the map. This will be impossible to remember.
“What’s the portal of the gods?” I ask. “You said the princes will be heading there.”
A large river cuts down the center of the map, separating the shifter deadlands from the faerie lands and Redstall Forest. Callonton and Farbay are relatively close to it, and I chew at my bottom lip as Samuel points to a spot near the tail, well into the Redstall Forest.
“Here,” he says, “is the portal of the gods.”
“Why are they heading there?”
Samuel hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain. Let’s order our food first. Do you know what you want?”
I’m unfamiliar with the food on the menu, and I don’t bother trying to pronounce it as I point to the first item listed. Samuel peers over to see, and with a curt nod, he taps the floating center of the table twice and speaks our orders out loud. He also asks for two glasses of water.
I stare, shocked, as the floating section rises into the air and is replaced with a new one holding two tall glasses of water.
“Have they been listening the whole time?”
Samuel shakes his head. “No.”
That’s a relief. The fewer people who know about me and my mission to enter the Redstall Forest, the better. I grab one of the glasses of water and gulp it down.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
Samuel purses his lips and sips his water, avoiding eye contact.
“I wish to find my mate.” He blows out a long breath. “Magic is the life of our world. We intrinsically know how to manipulate it, but there are limits to what we can do. Those limits vary from faerie to faerie. I have a low tolerance for magic, and the other faeries can sense it.”
Okay? Samuel being a weak faerie outcast doesn’t explain why he’s helping me.
“Women don’t want to risk being my mate, so I’m not often given permission to touch them,” he continues. “I suspect my mate will be a woman with a low magic tolerance. Maybe even one without, like a human.”
Oh . Well, that’s sad.
“Aren’t mates supposed to be super special?” I ask.
That’s how it’s always perceived in my books.
“They are,” Samuel admits. “But the mate bond isn’t triggered until skin-to-skin contact is made, and many feel that being mateless and settling for a partner with status is better than being trapped with a mate who can’t provide.”
Things grow quiet between Samuel and me, and I fight back an audible moan as the center of the table lifts and another with food emerges. They’re both in bowls, and one looks to be a stir fry while the other is a soup.
Samuel takes the soup, and I snatch up the stir fry. I don’t know when my next meal will come, and I need to fill up while I can. My body needs these calories.
I’m also happy to have a distraction from our conversation on Samuel’s failed love life.
I take a bite of food, my eyes rolling back. This is amazing. The sauce is sweet, and the flavor is unlike anything I’ve ever had. Truly delicious.
Samuel eats slower than me, and after scarfing down a few bites, I force myself to match his pace. I don’t want him to know I’m hungry. It’s none of his business that I’ve spent the past day and a half tromping through a giant prairie.
The map he created is still up, and I take this time to try to memorize it.
The walk to Farbay will be a bitch, but it’s right up along the forest. I’ll have to find a way to sneak in, but I’m sure I can manage that.
I just have to hope I don’t become shifter chow.
I repeat my earlier question. “Why are the princes heading to the portal of the gods?”
I have no idea who the princes are, but I don’t really care. It doesn’t matter to me.
Samuel finishes chewing before answering. “It’s the only portal that leads to the gods’ realm.”
“The princes can’t just create one?”
“No,” he says. “The only way to see the gods is through the preexisting portal.”
“But why do they want to go there?”
Samuel shrugs. “Can’t say I know for sure, considering I’m not privy to the inner workings of the royal court, but there are rumors that Prince Kieran wishes to speak to Zaha before his coronation.”
I tap my fingers against the table before finishing up the rest of my meal. Every answer Samuel gives only brings about more questions. Who is Zaha? And what would Prince Kieran wish to speak to them about? I suppose it doesn’t really matter.
Samuel lets out an exaggerated sigh before continuing. “It’s believed the shifters are again cultivating and harvesting the delysum that grows wild in the forest. They’re turning it into weapons, and Zaha is the only god powerful enough to stop it.” He shakes his head. “I don’t believe she can, though. I think she weakened herself when she destroyed the shifter kingdom, and now she’s powerless to help us defend ourselves against the shifters.”
Samuel continues speaking, going on about how Zaha meddled in the faerie and shifter affairs and ruined everything for everybody, but I’m not paying attention. I stopped paying attention the second the word delysum slipped from his mouth.
The shifters are growing and harvesting it into weapons? Against whom? The faeries? I don’t understand how it could be used as a weapon, considering it’s what’s keeping Lill alive.
Samuel trails off, eyeing my empty bowl.
“We need to get a move on if you want to get your gloves,” he says. “The stores will be closing soon.”
I completely forgot about the gloves. Samuel grabs our bowls, sets them on the platform, and then closes the map he created. The landscape shrinks until it’s replaced with the small, dark shard of glass it started as. It looks so unsuspecting, and I drag my fingers through my hair as he shoves it back into his pocket.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, standing.
Did he pay? I don’t really care.
I need these gloves, and then I need to get to Farbay. Nothing I learned today will change my mind or deter my plans. I’m going to find my way into the Redstall Forest, and then I’m going to discover where the shifters are growing delysum and steal or purchase as much as I can physically fit on my person.