Faith Fairchild #2
The creature reaches out with one of his eerily long fingers and snatches the brooch, then holds it up to the light, apparently
satisfied.
Rhion unrolls the object on his lap and sighs in disappointment as he reveals a kitchen knife.
One by one they come stand at our knees and one by one we give them the shiny objects we carried with us into the woods. In
exchange for an earring, I receive a paring knife. Marion ends up with a whittling knife, Emmett with a butter knife, Lydia
with a small hatchet.
But in the corner by the hearth rests a pile of more wrapped objects. We haven’t gotten anywhere close to revealing every
potential knife.
“We have nothing more to give,” Rhion says. “Please let me search through the remaining knives and we’ll leave you with our warmest wishes.”
The creatures glance between themselves, their clever eyes not quite human. This whole place gives me the creeps. I long to
take Marion by the hand and leave at once.
“No, no, you have more to give,” the one stirring the soup says.
“I assure you—” Rhion begins to say, but he’s interrupted.
“Your shadow, perhaps?” the one by the window says.
“A day of your life, but I pick which one!” the creature at the fire offers.
“Please—” Rhion holds up his hands, but he’s interrupted by the creature sitting at his feet.
“Kiss her!” He points to Lydia with his sharp fingernail. “A kiss for a knife!”
“No,” Rhion says forcefully, and at once, the easygoing, good-humored version of him disappears. It’s in the deepening of
his voice, or the squaring of his shoulders. I understand at once why Rhion is Bram’s best friend, his closest adviser. His
easy smile hides frightening strength beneath.
“But you love her!” the creature shouts, his voice sharp and dry.
Lydia blushes deeply and shifts in her seat. Rhion can’t even look at her, but he doesn’t deny it.
“You love her! You love her! You love her!” All of them are singing in chorus now. The creatures seem to be multiplying. A leg swings down from the rafters, grazing
my head, and Marion throws her weight protectively over me. Emmett stretches his long arms out over us both.
“That’s enough,” Rhion commands.
The one closest to Rhion stands on his tippy-toes and puts his hands on his hips.
“Fine, I’ll kiss her myself!” he declares, then scrambles up onto the chair and puckers his lips.
Lydia recoils and both Emmett and I stand to pull him off of her, but before we’ve even had the chance to stand from the couch, Rhion’s kitchen knife is through the creature’s chest. “You will not touch her,” he growls.
Blood drips off the hilt into the worn fabric of the sofa.
Rhion wrenches the knife out, the body thumps to the floor, and chaos erupts.
Immediately sharp nails dig into my back as the creatures behind the couch attempt to climb onto me. Marion wrenches them
off, then kicks to get them off her own leg, but hers won’t budge.
“Damn Redcaps!” Rhion yells as he drives his knife again and again through the throng, but they just seem to keep coming.
They spill from the side rooms, from the rafters, even wiggling down the chimney to bound over the fire toward Lydia. One’s
dirt-covered nails are primed to gouge her eyes out, but Rhion doesn’t let him get close enough. The Redcap is dead before
he hits the floor.
Lydia runs to the corner and crouches down at the pile of knives. She unwraps them as quickly as she can, kicking away the
Redcaps who come at her.
As we fight, their strange hats fall off, revealing they each wear an identical stocking cap of bloodred.
Marion is still shaking her leg wildly, but the Redcap holds on, digging his fingers into her flesh. The minute I see he has
drawn blood, my vision flashes red and I pick up Lydia’s small axe, discarded on the sofa beside me.
There’s nothing but instinct and thrumming fear as I hack and hack until the Redcap is in pieces and Marion is free.
“I’m going to kiss you about that later!” she calls as she grabs her own knife and goes to help Rhion, who has at least six Redcaps clinging to his back and screaming as they try to take him to the ground.
I smile and taste blood in my mouth.
Emmett is trying to make his way to Rhion, but is too busy fighting his own battle. A Redcap has dropped down onto Emmett’s
head and is using his sharp nail to leave a long bloody scratch across Emmett’s cheekbone. He shouts and drives his dull butter
knife into the creature’s eye socket. Now without a weapon, he uses his fists to pummel the crowd trying to bring him to the
ground until I can’t tell if the blood on his knuckles is his own or the Redcaps’.
Lydia sprints for the door, hurtling over three who try to stop her. “I don’t think it’s here!” she calls.
“We won’t harm you!” one shouts from Rhion’s back. “You’re so pretty and so kind to all forest folk. All hail Queen Lydia!”
Lydia hesitates; it’s clear she has no desire to harm these creatures, which is almost funny considering how willing she was
to dump that unicorn’s body at Bram’s feet. But I understand Lydia even less than I understand Ivy.
The boys are both wearing chain mail, which helps a little, but their necks and limbs are still exposed. The creature sinks
his sharp teeth into the soft skin of Rhion’s hand, and Rhion lets out a cry of pain.
Lydia’s eyes darken, and with a swift kick to the Redcap nearing her feet, she wrenches the door open. The Redcaps recoil
against the light and hiss, their bloodthirst seemingly reaching a fever pitch.
Rhion tries to force his way to the bedroom, but there are simply too many of them. They cling to his arms and legs, slowing
him down like quicksand.
“We must go!” Lydia shouts over the din.
“We need the knife!” Rhion retorts in a strangled voice. There’s one hanging around his neck, choking off his airway. I don’t
know if faeries need to breathe the same way humans do, but his face is turning purple and that doesn’t seem good.
Marion and I keep hacking away against the endless stream of them as we make our way closer to the door. For each Redcap we
fight off, another appears to take his place. The once-brown floorboards run red with blood, but the Redcaps seem delighted
by it. They slip and slide and dip the tips of their caps in the mess with glee.
“You’ll never find it!” The one at Rhion’s back lets out a sharp giggle. “Never, ever, ever!”
“It’s not here?” Rhion chokes out in horror. Blood drips off his knife and onto the fabric of his breeches.
“We need to go!” Lydia shouts again. “Please, Rhion.”
And because it’s her who asked, he relents. I watch as the tension falls from his shoulders and the fire in his eyes dims
to embers.
He raises his arms above his head and brings his knife down with brutal power. In three stabs, he is free.
But another yell pierces the air and the air grows thicker as I notice Emmett, still trapped deep inside the chaos. A Redcap
jumps from the edge of the sofa, flying at Emmett, a blade poised to strike him right in the side of his neck. It’s as if
time slows. I can’t get there fast enough. “Emmett!” I scream.
His eyes meet mine. I’m so panicked, so agonizingly sad that my friend’s life is going to end like this after all he’s endured.
But right before the knife sinks into his jugular, the Redcap is struck with a flying dagger. It lands with a thwack in the center of his chest and he goes falling to the floor.
Emmett tosses the other one he’s fighting off his back and checks the small wound on his neck. “I had it!” he calls to Rhion,
who rolls his eyes across the room.
Lydia stands with the door wrenched open. “Now!” she screams.
Blood-slicked and panting, we tumble onto the front porch. The bright, clear day is jarring after the chaos inside.
Lydia leaps off into the grass and Marion and I soon follow, leaving Emmett and Rhion staring up at the house together. For
a moment, I’m terrified they’re about to go back inside, but Emmett whispers something to Rhion, who nods, then presses his
hands together. When he pulls them apart, there’s a small ball of fire balanced between his palms. He takes a breath, then
hurls it onto the thatched roof of the cottage.
The straw goes up like a match, immediately burning down to the rafters and filling the clearing with thick smoke.
The Redcaps shriek and wail, and it sets my teeth on edge.
“We need to go, now, before they come out and chase us,” Marion says.
Rhion nods, but just as he turns to leave, a Redcap sticks his little head through what’s left of the smoldering chimney and
lets out a laugh that cuts straight to my bones.
“You’ll never find it, you fools! We threw it in the Isern Caves!” He laughs and laughs until the smoke is so thick, it blocks
him from view completely. I think I still hear his giggle as the cottage collapses.
Emmett stomps through the clearing and runs a hand through his hair, which is now crusted with dirt and blood.
Our faces don’t look much better. My heart pounding, I turn to Marion and place my hands on her face, tipping and prodding until I’m satisfied she’s unharmed.
She leans down and gives me a quick peck on the cheek.
“I never thought I’d long for rainy England,” she whispers in my ear, making me laugh.
I love her so much it makes my chest hurt.
We follow the path out of the clearing, back to the footbridge.
“The caves—” Rhion starts, but Emmett marches ahead of him.
“I’m not discussing any of this until we find Ivy,” he says tightly.
Which leaves the rest of us trailing behind him, trying to keep up with his long legs. Emmett always walks too fast—it’s one
of the most annoying things about him, and there’s plenty I still find annoying about Emmett.
Rhion takes a position at the back of the pack, seemingly unwilling to let Lydia out of his sight. “Thank you,” she says quietly,
after we’ve been walking awhile.
“For what?” Rhion asks.
“Saving Emmett.”
I don’t turn back to look, but Rhion lets out a disappointed sigh. “Of course. Anything—” He stops himself. I’m fairly certain
he was just about to say for you.
“I didn’t need saving!” Emmett calls without turning around.
“You were about to be stabbed in the neck!” Rhion replies.
“Just say thank you, Em,” Lydia says.
“Thank you, Rhion,” Emmett groans, and Marion and I both stifle a laugh.
The spirit of the footbridge doesn’t demand payment for our return journey. I say thank you anyway, and that haunting voice
pops into my head, all huffy this time, and says, “I have a sense of honor, you know.”
Emmett lingers a little too long and I know he’s asking about Ivy. When he exits, some of the anxiety has left his face, but his shoulders are still tense. “It says it sent her back to the castle gardens.”
The woods turn from bright spring back to midnight autumn in a blink, leaving me shivering. I lost my cloak in the cottage,
so Marion and I huddle together for the rest of the journey.
“I understand the button and the jewelry,” I say as we walk through the trees, “but why the lock of hair?”
Rhion fishes into his pocket and pulls it out. At first, I think it’s a trick of the moonlight, so I lean closer. The hair
has gone white, completely leached of color.
I pull my own lock of hair from my pocket and it’s exactly the same.
“The forest likes to play tricks,” Rhion says. “My friend Lord Fernly’s hair is still white after a trip to the cabin in our
youth. It’s best to provide a decoy.”
I can’t wait to never set foot in this forest again.
We don’t hear the screams until the castle is back in view, a glowing opalescent beacon in the dark.
Emmett doesn’t say a word, he just takes off running, suddenly in a full sprint. His boots crash through dried leaves, and
he leaps over bushes and dodges trees until he’s gone from sight.
The rest of us follow, the high-pitched, terror-filled shrieks as our guide.
It isn’t difficult to find her. Emmett has beat us to it, but not by much.
Ivy is on the ground in the fetal position, rocking back and forth and whimpering. Emmett pulls her onto his lap and brushes
her tangled hair away from her face.
“Shh,” he whispers. “You’re safe, you’re safe,” he says soothingly.
Ivy gasps, as if waking up, then begins sobbing anew. She reaches up and grabs his face with both her hands. “I thought I lost you,” she chokes out. “I thought I missed it.”
“Missed what, sweetheart?” Emmett asks, his eyes so full of longing and agony and love I feel almost guilty witnessing this
moment.
“The life we’re supposed to have together.” Then she crushes her mouth to his. Emmett stiffens and then, as if giving up on
some internal battle, he melts and kisses her back.