Chapter 6
I rub my stiff back and neck, wincing as I wake up. At this rate, I’m going to get sciatica. I sit up, cursing under my breath.
“That’s a dirty mouth for a girl who doesn’t speak,” the deep voice from beyond the wall rumbles.
My eyes narrow as I press circles into my shoulder, trying to ease the knot of tension.
“I’m not one of them, if that’s what’s worrying you.” The voice dips lower, a gravelly baritone that seems to resonate in my bones.
“Why should I believe you?” I ask, my voice raspy from crying.
“Ahh, she speaks. I’m Obi.”
I remain silent, teeth nibbling on my lower lip, refusing to be drawn in by a trick.
“You know,” Obi says gently, his voice a soothing counterpoint to the rough stone walls, “you might want to make some friends here.”
“I’m not staying long,” I retort, my voice sharper than intended.
A deep belly laugh booms through the wall. A long laugh. A really long, actually quite rude, laugh.
“What?” I pout. “I said, what?”
“No, no, you don’t want to speak. And you’re not staying long, so there’s no need for us to speak.” He sounds amused, but there’s an edge to his voice I can’t quite place.
Maybe he really isn’t one of them. Then again, maybe he is.
“Good, then you can keep your mouth shut and stop annoying me,” I snap. Obi doesn’t reply. “Where am I? Oh, come on, please, I asked a question.” I’m guessing Faerie, but some confirmation would be good. If I’m trapped in Faerie, I just have to find my way to the Nori.
Silence.
“Fine, I’m sorry,” I mumble, not sounding very sorry at all. “Now, will you tell me where I am?”
“Sure, since that was clearly very hard for you,” Obi finally replies, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “We’re in Faerieland. If you’ve been stolen by the Fae, you end up in Faerieland. Or, you’ve been stolen by someone else and given to the Fae.”
Stolen. Great. No hiding from Dae’s piece-of-shitness now.
“What about the short green creature?” I ask.
“That’s a Coblynau, they’re harmless.” There is an almost imperceptible slur in his voice, a slight dragging of the “s“ that I wouldn’t have picked up on if it wasn’t for the fact that sound is all I have to work with right now.
“And how do I know you’re not a Faerie?”
“You’ll notice we’re both in cells. Or at least, you’ll notice very soon, when we leave them. Plus, I’m human, which you’ll also see very soon.”
Yeah, well, I’m only half. A good thing Obi can’t see that. A worrying thought occurs to me. “Obi?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been here?”
It’s a good while before he replies. “Two years,” he says, his voice flat and cold. My heart drops. Two years. I’ve got until Spring and not a second longer. “But I am one of the ones who’s been here the longest.”
“Why haven’t you escaped yet?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just,” I pause, “…scared.” And betrayed, and pissed off.
“It’s okay, I understand. Everyone deals with this differently. You’re going to be okay. You’re doing the right thing. Don’t be too vulnerable. Don’t trust too easily. But just point all of that mistrust towards the Fae. Don’t believe anything they say. It’ll be true, but in the most unexpected of ways.”
“Okay.” I hesitate. “I did almost make it out, though. So, maybe it’s possible?”
“Running is going to get you into more trouble than it’s worth, so, here goes…Where was out? Where is it you were planning to escape to? There are three suns in the sky. That means we’re not even in our own solar system. There is no out. There is only outside, until you’re caught and dragged back in.”
I start to say, “There’s a wall of mist?—.”
But I’m cut off by raucous laughter filling the hallway. Six footsteps echo outside.
“They’re coming. Don’t misbehave, or they’ll hurt you,” Obi whispers urgently through the wall.
I wonder what the Fae consider misbehaving, since I’d stabbed a Coblynau just last night and hadn’t even gotten so much as a telling off.
Knocking sounds, keys turn, doors creak open, and footsteps shuffle. Finally, it’s my turn. My door. I don’t move, my body tense with defiance.
The mouse-boy, his face pinched, sweeps his hand dramatically.
I weigh up the pros and cons of refusing before getting up and joining the long line of people stood in silence along the hallway. The mouse-boy narrows his eyes at me. “Are you going to run?” I shake my head. He moves on with a crisp nod, to the door next to mine. Obi’s door.
I glance behind myself beneath a veil of hair.
Whoa. My breath catches in my throat, hope quickly fizzling out. If this guy can’t escape, there’s no hope for me.
Obi’s wide muscles bulge out of the uniform dark green trousers and simple top I and everyone else in this hallway wears. Assorted patchwork tattoos cover his arms, a jumbled tapestry of pop culture references: a games console logo, cartoon character from a popular comedy show, and mid-2000s garage music band logos. Obi winks at me, tipping his chin down to meet my gaze.
A long, jagged scar curves all the way down his left cheek, a stark contrast to his playful expression. He quickly turns his face to the side, obscuring the scar from my view. With a shiver, I bite my lip and avert my gaze, trying to forget his happy hooded eyes, strong jaw, and large hands.
“Go!” The rat-man barks from the front of the line once all the cells are empty.
The long line shuffles outside, me along with it—I should have brought my rock. If Dae is wherever we’re going, I’ll need it.
The fresh air hits me like a wave, washing away the stifling atmosphere of the cells. The scent of pine needles and damp earth fills my lungs.
“It’s beautiful, right?” Obi whispers, his head leaning down, his breath tickling my ear as we walk the well-worn path. I scan the trees, searching for the shimmering wall of mist. His deep voice sends shivers down my spine. He chuckles as I narrow my eyes, catching me staring.
“Elysia,” I say. Obi arches an eyebrow. “That’s my name.” A soft smile flutters across his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
The forest opens up into a clearing surrounded by towering white pines. A massive, circular building made entirely of topaz rises from the ground, a million different shades of blues, oranges, and pale yellows reflecting and multiplying off its glimmering surface. My eyes dart around, searching for an escape route as the rat-man heaves open the wide, carved, oak door at the front of the topaz palace. Everyone hustles inside.
The inside opens up into a vast courtyard. Grass, moss, and wildflowers carpet the ground. Black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne’s lace, and chicory burst through the grass in a riot of whites, yellows, and blues. At the far end of the courtyard, a grand marble staircase sweeps upwards into the shadows.
Dad would love this castle and the forest it sits in. I wonder if he’s doing anything to get me back, or to save Mum.
“Get to work!” The mouse-boy screeches when he’s finally made it inside past the large crowd of humans. I furrow my brow.
Guiding me by the elbow, Obi steers me out of the way before hustling me inside a cramped cupboard and quickly slamming the door shut.
Inside the secluded cupboard, Obi says, “Okay, here’s the deal. First, we set up the evening, so just look around for anything you can do to stack items or bring furniture out. Then the Coblynau lay out fruit on the tables. We eat the fruit and dance, then clean up, and they take us back to our cells. If you don’t do what they say, they whip you. Don’t make bargains with the Fae, keep your head down, and eat the fruit. They don’t like it when you turn it down.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
Obi shakes his head. “The fruit is… an assault on your senses. Sweet, tart, bitter, and rotten all at once. It makes us do anything they want. Anything. The dancing… it’s like the air is getting sucked out of you, but you can’t stop laughing, and it’s starting to hurt, and people are watching, so you’re starting to get embarrassed, but you still can’t stop. And then after all of that, when your legs are burning and you’re ashamed and delirious, then we still have to clean up.” Obi reaches for the door to leave.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing his (massive) arm. “Why are they doing this?”
“I don’t know, but your best hope is to not draw attention to yourself. I think we don’t really matter to them that much, but when you do, that’s when things get bad. I’ve seen people think they can flirt, cajole, or persuade their way out. It always ends badly. Things go well for a few weeks, but these are fickle beings, and they grow to hate anything they start to view as a nuisance.”
I keep my mouth shut. Is that what happened with Dae? Did he view me as a nuisance?
A list builds up in my head of all the ways I’m going to torture him when I get my claws on him.
“Why are you helping me?” I ask.
“When I got here, someone helped me. Now that person’s gone, and I’m here to help you. If you keep your head down, one day, you’ll be here to help someone else.”
“Won’t you still be here then too, and then you can help that person as well?”
A banging sounds on the cupboard door. My eyes widen, and my arm jerks, crashing into Obi’s jaw.
He winces. “Time to go. Oh, and, Elysia…don’t look at the Jinn.”
Jinn. What the Hell is a Jinn? Dad never told me about a Jinn. I open and close my mouth, fear tightening its grip, but Obi’s already moved on.
Rubbing his jaw with one hand, Obi uses the other to grab two velvet armchairs, his biceps flexing with the effort. He gently places one in my hand, and keeps the other for himself. Obi makes up an excuse about tripping as he opens the door and apologises to the scowling mouse-boy. Keeping my head down, I follow his shadow, depositing the chair beside his.
My arms ache and burn as we go back and forth for an hour, laying out chairs until the hall is full. Obi carries the heavier load, picking up two or three chairs at a time, dragging my chair along with him whenever I pause for breath. I trail behind him, pink lamps and the purple and blue moon illuminating our way.
We enter kitchens filled with the mouthwatering smells of exotic spices and fruits, help deliver watermelon, pistachio, and mint salads, lychees and mangos laced with basil, cherries atop a bed of watercress drizzled with peach puree, to the tables that are now covering the courtyard. By the time everyone has finished decorating, the courtyard has been transformed into a scene from a fairy tale.
Blood-red paint catches my eye. A giant, bright red canvas hangs above a large throne. Long and velvety purple, the throne spreads far enough to seat three people. An invisible line no one wants to cross circles it. I edge closer, eyes squinting.
That’s my painting.
Well, it’s Dae’s, I suppose. He paid a thousand pounds for it—bought my Mum two weeks holiday with it, after Mum spent almost as long trying and failing to track down the money’s original owner.
God, it’s ugly. I was sure it wasn’t that ugly when I painted it.
I’d thought it was a masterpiece—this is just a bunch of crude red paint splashed around, possibly in the shape of a snake. Yes, I remember now, I’d definitely meant it to be a snake.
There’s no denying it now. If there was any room for doubt, that painting’s just squashed it—Dae kidnapped me and dumped me with the rest of his human pets.
Fury courses through me.
Some of my fellow prisoners shuffle over to a small podium and pick up instruments. Drums and serene singing fill the hall, creating a hypnotic tribal rhythm. Edging back toward the party, I trace a path to the door—if I can get out of this courtyard, maybe I can find the mist. I’ll come back and get Obi and take him with me, too. Once I know the correct way out.
All thought evaporates when a group of Coblynau enter the room, depositing fruit on a table in the centre.
Raspberries, plums, pomegranates.
Red, red, red. And purple. Such a deep, enticing purple.
I follow my feet towards the table, drawn to the fruit like a moth to a flame. What mad person would ever choose to turn down this perfect, delicious fruit?
I gorge myself, all thoughts of Dae and Mum vanishing in a haze of sweet and tart flavour. My own name becomes a distant echo.
Grab. Rip. Chew.
A wave of nausea rises in my throat. I bite down on the bile, licking my lips. They curve upwards into a smile as warmth floods my body, a drumbeat pulsing inside my racing heart. I stroke my veins against my face—they feel like they’re going to explode. My fingers reach up as I try to yank the corners of my lips back down. They won’t budge.
Laughter, tears, screams. I bottle up my breaths and hug myself against the cold. Or is it heat? I can’t tell anymore.
Where’s the table gone?
Straightening, I hold my palm against the cool topaz wall and wince as I move away from the pool of vomit at my feet.
Red, purple, red.
Grab. Rip. Chew.
A Faerie stuffs nuts up its snout, licking up fruit juice with a scratchy purple papillae-covered tongue. Maybe it’ll let me lick the fruit off its snout. It does. I suck and suck and suck. Giggling, I pull my tongue away and lick my lips.
A hand grabs my hair, invading my mouth with long, pointed jabs while fur tickles my chin. I dig my tongue deeper—there is fruit on its tonsils.
“Oink, oink, oink,” a Faerie laughs, pushing me to the floor. I frown. Is someone calling me a pig? Strong, tattooed hands lift me, wiping drool, sick, spit, and juice from my face. My eyes scan the room, searching for the table.
There it is.
Invisible fingers dance along my skin. Don’t look at the Jinn .
More fruit. More fruit. More fruit.
Swirling bright-coloured cone-shaped tornadoes writhe beneath human torsos. Don’t look at the Jinn .
Cats and dogs dash from one corner to the other, eyes too intelligent for their bodies. A dog shakes its fur off, melting into a grey, translucent form. Its bright white eyes devour me, and it smiles, a chilling, knowing smile. Shit, don’t look at the Jinn . My brain goes cold as it creeps inside me and steals a secret. Which one? I don’t know.
Crumpling to the ground, my hands blindly trace the floor, hunting. “Give me back my secret,” I whisper. Strong arms lift me again—warm, dancing arms. “Let it go,” the arms say, sending joyful giggles pouring from my blistered lips as we dance.
Fire. Burning flesh fills my nose. A swirling, purple base. I keep my eyes trained on the games console. A scream cuts through the haze. A girl with wide, terrified eyes begs.
“Stop hurting her. Please, Abnehor, leave her alone,” the girl with wide eyes screams, falling to the floor.
Dancing, dancing, dancing. They’re watching. A mound of bones. Laughter. My cheeks burn. Orange light blazes. Happy, hooded eyes dance with me.
Dark green shadows scuttle from corner to corner, covering burning grass, cleaning up fluids, and hiding flesh and bones. The moons creep beyond the edge of the high topaz wall until cold light warms the space. Shivering, I trace my fingers down angry goosebumps as my eyes adjust to the light.
A clatter and a whimper. Something small and frail falls to the ground with a bang. A girl. Jeers echo through the hall, and my eyes are drawn to the table as a hard thump and a wail fill the plaza. I tear my eyes away from the fruit and creep closer to the cries, my heart pounding.
I blink, clearing away the fog. Daylight is peeking through the open ceiling.
“Get up, little worm.” A slim Faerie kicks a small girl in the ribs, eliciting another whimper. The frail girl’s fingers dig into the grass as she crawls away from the Fae’s looming smirk, tears tracking down her cheeks and falling onto the crushed wildflowers beneath her. Yanking her up by the hair, the Faerie shoves his face close to hers, his expression cruel.
I dash forward, the lingering haze in my brain clearing as I shove the Faerie aside. He loses his grip on the girl’s hair and stumbles, collapsing to the floor. Wide, startled eyes meet mine, then dart away. His hair, a vibrant green just moments ago, flashes white, then orange, then settles on a fiery red. For a heartbeat, nothing happens.
Then he leaps to his feet and lunges at me, grabbing my shoulder and shoving with all his might. My ears ring as my head cracks against the hard-packed soil.
I clutch my side as he kicks me in the hip, again and again, until I’m sure something is about to break. He leans down, his face contorted with rage. “Clearly, you’re new here,” he snarls. “Enjoy your stay. I’m sure it won’t be long.” He stalks off with a mocking laugh and a wink.
The rest of the Faeries disperse, their footsteps receding into the distance, disappointment across their faces.
“Thank you,” a small voice whispers. It takes me a moment to make out the girl through my blurry vision. I blink, trying to get my head to stop spinning. “I don’t know what I did to anger him.”
White-hot pain lances down my neck and back as I try to nod.
The frenzied dancing subsides, the last of the fruit disappears, and the courtyard gradually empties as light from the three suns fully streams in. Exhausted Faeries drift away in groups until no one is left in the vast space but us humans.
“Come on,” Obi says, gently lifting me to my feet. “You have to get up.”
Fire shoots through my legs as I slowly, painfully help clear up the mess the Fae have left, collapsing to my knees twice under the weight of the heavy chairs. Each time, Obi swiftly picks them, and me, up, setting me down gently by a wall to catch my breath.
Later, back in our cells, Obi’s voice comes through the wall. “Elysia?”
“Yes, Obi?” I reply, my throat raw and sore.
“That was really brave, what you did for that girl.” He pauses, then adds, his voice low, “I miss being that brave.”
My eyes slide shut. I squeeze them tightly, trying to block out the images of my mum flashing before my eyes. Red, orange, and black dots dance before my eyelids. I think of all the times I’ve waved at Dad as he walked through the forest to the Nori.
I think of the time he danced with Mum in our tiny kitchen, his wide smile revealing perfect teeth. His forehead, covered in the intricate red and black markings that separate him so starkly from our species. I remember Mum tracing her fingers along those markings, a look of love in her eyes. I remember her laughing while covering them with foundation so we could all go outside together. I’d always thought, maybe, once I died, they’d have another child and keep living their strange, half-together, half-apart life, with a new baby.
“You know,” Obi says, breaking the silence, “you’ve got lovely beautiful hair.”
My eyes snap open, and a laugh escapes me, a raw, surprised sound that chases away the ghosts of my memories. My hair is my most unruly, troublesome feature. If Obi can find beauty in the worst part of me, maybe we can be friends.