23. The Seelie Court
T he Veil in the Seelie Thin Place felt less like a sticky, grasping cobweb and more like a smooth sheet of satin that slid over Aisling’s skin. They’d emerged between two hawthorn trees, identical to those they just left save for the leaves, which here were dense and green. Immediately, she had to shield her eyes from the bright sun that hung overhead. It was tinged the same angry red as it had been in the human realm. Over Brook Isle, though, it had since returned to normal as the shifting autumn winds pulled the smoke out of the sky. There was no smoke here, but the rays washed everything with a faint hue of dusty pink.
Before her eyes could fully adjust, Aisling felt Rodney’s grip on her hand tighten.
“Ash—” he choked out, voice low.
Something cold and harsh pressed against the side of her neck. A blade; she could tell without reaching up to feel it. Though she couldn’t see her captor, she could see Rodney’s. He, too, was held still by the edge of a dagger. The one against his neck was curved so that its pointed tip dug into his opposite cheek. A firm hand seized the back of Aisling’s jacket and Briar, growling, snapped his teeth at another that reached for his collar.
The guards that found them were tall and lean, with bronze skin and eyes as clear blue as the sky above. Their pale armor shone rose gold in this light; the way it conformed to their bodies made it appear less like metal and more like a second skin, delicate yet strong. There were four of them, expressions hard as they took in their catch.
The first to speak was the female holding Aisling. “A girl, a beast, and a…” She sniffed and her voice took on a tone of disdain. “A changeling. What cause have you for entering our realm?”
“We’re acquaintances of the dryads; they granted us passage to visit your court.” Rodney bowed his head, shooting Aisling a look wordlessly urging her to do the same.
Instead, Aisling straightened her posture as much as the guard’s tight grip would allow. “My name is Aisling, and I’m the Red Woman. I’ve come with the White Bear seeking an audience with your queen. The púca is my escort.”
She’d practiced saying those words out loud the night before, then again and again in her head as she and Rodney climbed up to the overlook. But she hadn’t planned to say them outright—she’d hoped to save them for the right time, the right audience. So when the words formed on her lips seemingly of their own volition, coming out even stronger and surer than she’d rehearsed, both she and Rodney were caught off-guard. He stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.
A tense silence fell over the guards for a brief moment, before they began speaking rapidly to each other in a language with a lyrical cadence that was both foreign and strangely captivating. Their words flowed together as melodically as birdsong. Though she couldn’t understand the meaning behind the sounds, the beauty of the language itself was undeniable. Rodney looked less than impressed.
By the deferential tone of the other three, Aisling guessed that the faerie still holding a dagger to her throat was in charge of the group. When they quieted, she lowered the dagger. The male behind Rodney followed suit, and he sucked in a ragged gasp as though he’d just been strangled. Aisling had to bite back a smirk; she’d been through far worse in the Unseelie Court, and she’d been alone then. Suddenly, she didn’t feel quite so afraid.
She tipped her chin upwards, looking to the sky. Two of the faeries followed her line of sight. “Aethar sent the red sun as one of your signs; the convergence has already come and gone. I’m here now, and I wish to speak with your queen.”
The other three stepped back, and the broad-shouldered female began walking away from the group. “Keep up,” she called over her shoulder.
The valley before them, lush and green, glowed golden just as Aisling’s mother had described. Wildflowers in soft pastels blanketed the ground nearly as thick as the grass, scenting the air with their sweet perfume. A warm breeze whispered across her cheeks and invited her deeper into the Seelie Court. It carried with it soft strains of a tune being played somewhere in the distance. The quiet song pulled at an invisible string woven between Aisling’s ribs, calling her to run. To play. To dance. It buoyed her spirit and she shed all of the pain she’d carried with her through the Veil like a sodden cloak. She let it drop to the ground and walked away from it lighter.
Rodney noticed the faraway look in her eyes and elbowed her sharply. “Watch yourself,” he cautioned. Aisling shrugged off his warning and glanced down at Briar, who had settled down and now seemed just as enthralled as she was. Had he not been leashed at her side, he would likely have raced off into the tall grass after one of the tiny faeries that rose up and fluttered away as they passed by.
Beads of sweat were beginning to form beneath Aisling’s hair; both she and Rodney had to strip off several layers as they walked. The faerie ahead of them was wholly unbothered by the heat, even laden with armor as she was. Her helmet must have been stifling. Aisling wondered about the distance between the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. It had appeared vast on the map in Kael’s study, but it must have been even greater than she’d thought for the climates to be so strikingly varied.
The guard’s path cut down a low hill toward a small lake. The crystalline blue of the water, only a few shades deeper than the sky, glittered in the sunlight where ripples spread from things darting unseen beneath its surface. Tall, swaying cattails bordered the shoreline. Sprites, similar to the one Aisling had rescued all those weeks ago, clung to the stalks at different heights. They cackled as their perches danced back and forth. The scene made her wish she could draw, or paint, or otherwise capture it in some way as her mother had. Her memory wouldn’t do it justice.
There was a figure in the lake, submerged save for the very top of their head. Long tendrils of ebony hair floated in a halo around them, drifting lazily with the currents stirred by their movements through the water. The guard increased her pace to reach the lakeside before Aisling and Rodney. Rodney caught Aisling’s wrist and urged her to wait. She was impatient; she had hoped they would be taken straight to the queen.
When the guard removed her helmet, a long auburn braid unfurled and fell down her back. She called out to the figure in the water in their singsong language. Aisling thought she heard her name and listened more closely. The figure hardly acknowledged her words, lifting one hand out of the water to beckon dismissively. The guard shook her head, then twisted up her braid and repositioned her helmet. She turned and gave a sharp nod before retreating in the direction the group had just come from. Aisling watched, confused.
“Should we—” she began, looking over at Rodney and turning to follow the guard. She halted when she noticed his face. Rodney was gazing slack-jawed at the water, eyes wide and glassy, with a vivid blush creeping up into his cheeks.
The figure in the lake had risen to stand, the waterline now just reaching her bare stomach. She pushed her dark hair back from her face, which had all the sharp angles and upturned features Aisling had come to expect in the Fae. She moved languidly towards the shore, each step revealing more of her body. Two gossamer wings followed, trailing behind her like the train of a gown. Droplets of water slid down every curve of her immaculate porcelain skin. They caught the sunlight as they moved: tiny, glittering diamonds that made her luminous complexion even more radiant.
“Stay here.” Aisling tapped her fingers under Rodney’s chin to close his mouth then led Briar down to the edge of the lake. Wholly unashamed of her nude body, the faerie crossed the last few yards entirely exposed. Aisling remained spellbound by her ethereal features: the elegant curve of her neck, the slender lines of her limbs, the shimmering strands of dark hair that clung to her form like liquid silk. Absolute, unrivaled beauty in its purest form—the kind that inspired songwriters and artists, a muse to their craft.
“The Red Woman,” the female marveled. “We’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”
“You knew I was coming?” As the faerie stood nude before her, Aisling cast her eyes downward. She didn’t possess the countenance of a warrior, as Kael did, but of a royal. This was the queen—Aisling could feel it. She wondered briefly whether she should curtsy or bow.
The faerie stopped once they were standing nearly toe-to-toe, then cupped Aisling’s cheek with a damp hand to tilt her face upwards. Aisling let her, lifting her gaze along with it to meet the queen’s eyes. They were a deep shade of purple, like two flawless amethysts. They stared straight into Aisling—straight into her mind, her soul. If the queen had been able to see all of her deepest, innermost secrets, she wouldn’t have been at all surprised. As it was, the queen’s violet eyes seemed to hold just as much awe as her own.
“My sweet girl, from the moment our sun rose red, I knew it was only a matter of time before we’d meet. Aisling, is it?” When Aisling nodded, still held captive by those eyes, she smiled. “I’m Laure. Welcome to my court.”
Aisling couldn’t help feeling moved by the benevolence in Laure’s tone. It carried an almost maternal tenderness, as if she were soothing a wounded fawn. It was enough to make her regret ever setting foot in the Unseelie Court in the first place. Here, she was welcomed. Loved, even. There…she couldn’t imagine what Kael must think about her now without bile forcing its way up her throat.
“It’s an honor, Your Highness.” Aisling dipped her head, careful to look away from the queen’s body.
Laure looked down at herself, as if realizing for the first time that she was still nude. She laughed and reached for a light, backless cotton gown that hung from the tip of a cattail. “I suppose this was not the welcome you expected. I’m afraid I’ve grown rather accustomed to doing as I please here; we all have. Even our visitors tend to embrace it once the shock wears off.” She winked at Aisling as she carefully arranged the dress around her wings.
A brief electric thrill zipped up Aisling’s spine when she realized for the first time how constricting her own clothes felt against her skin.
“It’s beautiful here,” Aisling said sincerely.
Laure smiled, smoothing her hands over her bodice. “It is, isn’t it?” She looked down then, at Briar. “And am I correct to assume that this is the White Bear?”
Aisling nodded and nudged him to sit. “Briar. White, though not exactly a bear.”
A warm laugh again escaped Laure’s lips, and Aisling felt a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that she was the one who had brought forth that musical sound.
“Fae prophecies aren’t so rigid as they seem; they’re quite open to interpretation. In fact, I’m rather glad you didn’t show up here with a bear at your side. Come.” Reaching out, Laure took Aisling’s hand in her own. Her palm was cool and soft; a hand that had never known labor of any kind.
“Go find Rodney,” Aisling told Briar. She dropped the leash, and he bounded up the hill to where Rodney was waiting uncomfortably. Aisling gestured to him to wait there, then let Laure lead her to walk around the edge of the lake.
“So, who was it that found you?” Laure asked. Her strides were leisurely. Graceful. Aisling snuck a look back at her wings that swept through the grass behind them.
For what felt like the hundredth time, Aisling recounted her meeting with the Shadowwood Mother.
Laure hummed, the barest hint of irritation underlying her tone. “She chose not to share that with us, last we visited. And you began your search for answers in the Unseelie Court, did you not?”
Aisling’s steps faltered momentarily before she regained her composure. “Do you have spies there?”
“Nothing like that.” Laure smiled down at her, then shifted her attention back to the meadow of wildflowers that stretched on ahead. “But I had heard rumors of the king’s taking a human prisoner. About a sort of…influence you may have possessed. Is it true?”
Aisling remained quiet, choosing not to answer Laure’s question. Her connection with Kael’s magic, whatever it may have been, had little to do with her being the Red Woman.
Seeming to understand Aisling’s silence, Laure nodded knowingly. “Kael Ardhen is a terribly powerful creature. A true monster, the likes of which I’ve not encountered elsewhere in my lifetime. You would do well to remember that.”
Kael Ardhen . Laure had pronounced each syllable slowly. Deliberately. She wanted Aisling to understand the weight of the gift she was giving her—the gift of Kael’s full name. The gift of control. Though if Laure had known it for any amount of time, Aisling wondered why she hadn’t yet used it to her own advantage.
“And I hope,” Laure added, “that the prophecy rings true. That you are the key to his downfall. His subjects deserve to know peace as mine do.”
Aisling thought of the Solitary Fae she’d seen in the battle at Nyctara, clad in too-large armor with swords that hadn’t seen a whetstone in an age. There was certainly no peace in the Seelie Court for them, either. She kept this opinion to herself, instead lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and casting her gaze towards the mountains.
“What’s that place?” High on the mountainside, tucked between sharp peaks, Aisling noticed a large structure, white even under the rays of the red sun. It looked like it was carved from a type of stone; its tall spires glittered in the afternoon light .
“That is Solanthis, our temple of worship.” Laure smiled at the image of the temple in the distance, maybe imagining herself inside its sacred walls.
“Is Aethar your god?” Aisling asked. Laure stopped to look up at it as well. They were atop a low rolling hill now, with the lake just below. “The one that was said to have sent the red sun?”
“She is. She has been good to us since the birth of our court. I’d like to take you to see the temple if you’re interested; very few humans have ever set foot inside.”
Aisling nodded vigorously. There was something about Laure that made Aisling desperately eager to please her. The air she carried about her, maybe, or the way light seemed to be drawn to her like it was caught in some sort of gravitational pull.
“Excellent. You and I will ride out to the temple tomorrow at dawn. It’s not nearly as far a journey as it looks, I promise.” Laure squeezed her hand. “And I believe I will order a feast in your honor tomorrow evening.” She said it thoughtfully, already planning and beginning preparations in her mind.
For just a moment, before Aisling let herself be swept away by the queen’s promises, she hesitated. She knew that she might remain there for some time, but she hadn’t fully considered it when Rodney had picked her up from her apartment that morning. She hadn’t even packed an overnight bag.
Laure left Aisling to explore and promised to send a messenger to take her to the palace once she’d had her fill. She didn’t think she ever would; she could stare at that wide open valley for hours and hours and never tire of it .
Careful to walk only on the trodden path to avoid stepping on the flowers or any other manner of living thing, Aisling returned to where Rodney and Briar were sitting in the grass. Rodney cut a harsh contrast against the landscape in his black torn jeans and oil-stained T-shirt. Despite the beauty around them, he wore a scowl on his face. Briar’s expression was one of pure bliss, his tongue lolling from his mouth as two sky blue nymphs wove flowers into his fur with nimble fingers. Even standing on their toes, they only just reached his mid-back.
“So?” he asked.
“So, I’m staying. At least for a couple nights.” Aisling lowered herself into the grass beside him and plucked a piece to wind around her fingers. The nymphs scampered off, twittering to each other.
“ We ,” he corrected, just as she had the day before. Anticipating her protest, he added, “I know you can handle it fine on your own. But I’m not leaving you this time.”
Feeling selfish over just how grateful she was for him in that moment, Aisling wordlessly leaned her head against her friend’s shoulder. They stayed there for some time, eventually falling onto their backs to watch the clouds drift by overhead.
As the afternoon light shifted into evening, the guard returned for them. Her expression as she beckoned them to follow was as unyielding as before, though she no longer wore her helmet or carried her dagger unsheathed.
“There’s something down in that lake.” Rodney paused to glance at it warily as they passed by.
Aisling examined its surface, still now without Laure treading water. “What, like fish?”
“I don’t think so. Bigger.” He shook his head and barely suppressed a shiver. “I don’t like it.”
“Well no one is making you swim in it. Come on.” Aisling took his arm and hauled him away from the shore.
By the time they reached the palace, it was too dark to make out many of its features beyond its general shape silhouetted against the dusky sky. Bright torches illuminated two great stone creatures flanking the large door as sentries. Though they were unmoving, she was almost sure their eyes followed as they passed.
“ Manticores,” Rodney hissed. “Don’t speak to them.” The edge of fear in his voice drew a chill down Aisling’s arms, raising goosebumps. She drew them tightly across her chest in an effort to give the creatures a wide berth as they walked between their motionless forms.
“The queen is unavailable tonight, but dinner will be sent to your chambers.” The guard said the words coolly without glancing back at the trio. “We do not keep the palace lit at night, so do not wander.”
Indeed, the interior of the palace was quiet and dark. The guard carried a single candle to light their way, which she left in a candlestick on a table between two steaming plates of food before leaving Aisling, Rodney, and Briar alone.
They dined together quietly in the small room. Rodney had sniffed Aisling’s food, peering at it from all angles, looking for any hint of enchantment. Even once he’d deemed it safe, she could do little more than push it around her plate. Briar ate most of it .
Aisling was afraid, the false bravado she’d so skillfully projected having disappeared along with the warmth and the sunlight of the afternoon.
So she didn’t bother to argue when Rodney later crept through the door between their adjoined rooms, a pillow tucked under his arm. Didn’t tell him to leave when he nudged Briar over and settled in on the far side of the bed, his head by Aisling’s feet. Though she knew she should have forced him back through the Veil when she’d decided to stay, as she laid there listening to the sounds of his slow breathing and Briar’s soft snores, Aisling could hardly imagine facing this alone.