Chapter 8
eight
Silas showed up to collect me for the full moon event as evening descended over the island. He blinked when he saw me, then did a double take.
“I know,” I apologized. “It’s not exactly a party gown, but I wasn’t sure what to wear to a gnome full moon ceremony. Millie promised me it wasn’t formal. She told me I’d probably want an elastic waistband. Plus, if we’re going hunting later—”
“It’s perfect. You look incredible.” Silas tipped my chin up, gave me a kiss. He circled his arms around my waist and pulled me close. “Did you say hunting?”
After Millie’s lesson in the kitchen, it only seemed fair for me to spend time in a Hunter’s mind too. I’d decided I’d do it, and I could always back out if I got uncomfortable. I trusted Silas not to push me further than I wanted to go.
So I’d chosen a practical outfit for the night—black leggings and a tight black tank top.
I’d added a black cardigan to dress it up a little, but I’d stuck with sensible shoes.
Millie had reiterated a zillion times that half the gnomes showed up in their pajamas, and at least a handful of them lost most of their clothes by midnight.
She assured me I looked just fine. Silas didn’t seem to mind, which helped ease my mind.
“How are you feeling?” Silas asked as he took my hand and tugged me toward the path. “About hunting?”
“Nervous. But I think it’s important.”
“Just remember, at any time if it doesn’t feel right to you, we’ll stop.”
I squeezed his hand back as we made quick time toward the Grove of Gnomes, which was located just at the edge of The Forest.
“What’s in the bag?” Silas nodded toward the small rucksack I’d slung over my shoulders.
“A book,” I said after some hesitation. “Gus gave me a few old texts that have to do with Fae history, like I mentioned earlier. One of the books had something about a full moon in it. I can’t really read what it says yet, but I think it’s relevant to the history of the full moon stuff. I brought it along just in case.”
“I see.”
“Do you read whatever language the ancient Fae used? Would you be able to understand these texts?”
“No.”
“Do you know anyone who might have some sort of cypher that I could use to translate it? I think I found a spell, but I can’t say for sure. Gus didn’t think it looked like any spell he’d ever seen.”
“I’d trust your intuition. Gus might be one of the most knowledgeable men on this island, but nobody, Alessia, is going to be able to give you as much advice as you want about the Fae.
It’s very likely that Gus—and pretty much everyone else on this planet—have never seen Fae spells before.
If you think it’s worth checking out, it’s worth checking out.
But no, I don’t know anyone who could help you translate it. ”
As the stars sprinkled the sky above us, I wondered how I’d subsisted in so many loveless, lifeless relationships for so long in New York.
Especially with Simon, but also with my parents.
I’d never felt like my thoughts mattered.
On the contrary, my parents had tried to squash all original thoughts from my head.
Then they’d passed me off to Simon for him to do the same.
Here I was, just a few weeks in with Silas, and he believed in me more than I believed in myself. It was invigorating.
We heard the gnomes before we saw them. A live string quartet played music unlike anything that had ever entered my ears before.
“It’s gnomish.” Silas winced as the sounds grew louder. “It’s… grating.”
“How long does this part last?”
“Only until they get too drunk to hold their instruments.” Silas shrugged. “I give them about half an hour before they get some more tolerable music.”
“There she is!” Chuck scurried over to me, beaming. “The Queen!”
“I’m just here as a friend,” I said. “And to support the other gnomes. Nothing royal about me tonight.”
“Did you hear that?” Chuck’s red nose turned even redder, a tomato in the heat of the summer, looking around to make sure the other gnomes could hear him. “The Queen called me her friend.”
“Run with it,” Silas muttered into my hair. “You have plenty of people fighting you on the title. Accept the help where you can get it. Speaking of, Millie slipped me this.”
I suspected Silas to pull out a slice of bread or a parcel of food to share with the gnomes. Instead, he reached into the small sack he had slung over his shoulder and removed the small circlet that had been sitting by my bedside. Silas placed it on my head.
It took me a beat to notice the silence around us, the fact that even the odd music had come to a grinding halt. Eyes were turned on me. The ring where the circlet rested on my head felt warm.
I gave Silas a questioning look, but even he seemed speechless.
When I looked into his eyes, however, I could see the reflection of the crown.
The cerulean-blue crystals embedded in it were shimmering.
Not fizzing with magic, but just glimmering gently as the moonlight touched them, like the very crown was soaking up the silver rays.
“You were right,” Silas finally managed. “It was a good idea to come tonight.”
When I finally broke away from his gaze, I found a sea of small gnomes staring up at me. Noses red, eyes hopeful, starlight reflected on their ruddy faces. I realized they were looking at me, waiting for me to do something—say something?
Silas gave me a subtle nod, then a wink. “You’ve got this.”
“Thank you all for hosting me tonight,” I said.
“Thanks, especially, to Chuck for explaining the meaning behind the full moon celebration. As you all know, I’m new here.
I’m trying my hardest to learn about magic.
Not just my own Fae powers, but all magic that exists on this island.
Gnomish magic, your culture, is important, and I appreciate this glimpse into your world. ”
Applause, whistles, hooting and hollering followed. One by one, the gnomes all bowed to me. They bowed so low, their noses almost swept the ground. A rush of gratitude ran through my very bones as I returned the gesture with a bowed head of my own.
When we all straightened, the music resumed. Gnomes approached me one by one, pumping my hand, offering me drinks and food. Several of them had tears in their eyes, salty rivulets streaming down their cheeks, as they thanked me for returning to The Isle, as if I had any control over the matter.
“A Fae Queen,” one woman managed to squeak out as she wrapped me in a hug. “There’s hope yet.”
“The Court of Isles,” another said. “We thought it was lost forever.”
“A long and happy reign for you, My Queen.”
When the gnomes had returned to the general celebrations, and the mood had settled between giddy and raucous, I took a deep breath.
“Something to eat?” Silas asked.
“Nah,” I said. “Millie fed me today. Would you believe she taught me how to make a loaf of bread?”
“Did it turn out?”
I frowned. “I don’t actually know yet. Supposedly it’s got to puff up on the counter all night long.”
“Huh.” Silas ran a hand through his hair. “Seems like a lot of work for some bread.”
“Tell me about it. Her starter is practically alive. You have to feed it like a child. She has a name for it. Doughlores.”
“The what?”
“Never mind. I’m going to take a few minutes of quiet to look through my book, if you don’t mind. I just need to decompress after all the chatting.”
“Of course.” Silas glanced up, squinting at the night sky. “I’m about due for a perimeter check. Do you mind staying put so I don’t have to worry about you while I head out on patrol? It won’t take long. The grove’s not that big.”
In answer I slid onto an old wooden picnic bench tucked discreetly into the shadows. By now, the moon had risen high in the sky. The horrid gnomish music had been replaced by something that sounded significantly more contemporary.
Gnomes were dancing, or something that looked kind of like dancing, out on a cobblestone patch in the center of the party. Bonfires raged in pits around the dance floor. Wine and mead flowed, food was grilled, warmed, baked, and set out on long, buffet-style tables.
I smiled, then cracked my book open, relieved to have a moment to myself. The attention from the gnomes had been wholeheartedly positive, but it had still been attention. I wasn’t used to so much conversation in general, let alone directed at me.
I pored over the book, gingerly flipped through its ancient pages. Slowly, I became absorbed in the book, to the point where the music faded to an ambient thrum in the background, and the dancers became a blurred whir out of the corner of one eye.
I became so absorbed in the book I could smell the pages of it—the musk and dust and papyrus preserved for ages—over the smell of barbecued meat and baked goods.
When I finally reached the page about the full moon, I paused on the passage that looked like a spell. I pressed the spine of the book gently so the pages unfolded to open more, and as I did, the most peculiar thing began to happen.
As moonlight flooded onto the page, the illegible symbols suddenly became legible. I wasn’t sure if it was that the symbols on the page were actually changing, or if it was me that was changing—seeing the words in a new light, quite literally.
I blinked at the page and saw what was very much a spell. It said so, right in the title.
A Spell for the Full Moon
Moon of silver, lantern high,
Unlace the seams of midnight sky.
Spirits shimmer, spirits sing—
Draw them near on quiet wing.
By petal, breath, and newborn light,
Bind our courts through velvet night.
Fae crown of leaf and ancient ley,
Walk the bridges, show the way.
I read the spell through in my head first, then I whispered it aloud the second time. As I completed the second round, my entire body started to tingle. A jolt of electricity shot through me, making the hairs on my arm stand on end and my scalp prickle.