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HALLIE KICKED A STONE down the wooded path. Arrogant jerks.
“Hey, calm down,” Wyn said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal. We’ll figure it out.”
Hallie shook off her hand. “It is a big deal. Everything depends on this, Wyn. Everything!”
“Whoa, hold on there.” Wyn took her arm and pulled her to a stop. “What do you mean? I said I’d help you, but you know I think this is a bad idea. And just knowing about resurrection doesn’t mean you’ll convince one of the Spring Court to actually do it for you.”
Hallie could feel the rage bubbling under her skin. Aside from Vesque, most of the Fae at breakfast had done nothing but offer her polite smiles and decline to answer any questions, including their names.
Well, that at least made sense. Names were power. But they couldn’t even give her a nickname to call them? Obviously they didn’t want to talk. Didn’t want to risk the Fae boy’s wrath.
Hallie closed her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths before she turned back to Wyn.
“So he’s a ‘sir.’ And he’s powerful enough to make the subjects of the Court fear him,” she said.
“True,” Wyn answered, watching her carefully.
“He’s probably part of the royal family.”
“Also true.”
“But how do we prove that?” Hallie hesitated, knowing what she wanted to say, but almost afraid to say it. “I know it’s a long shot,” she said through tight teeth. “But I have to try. Kat...” She blinked back tears. “Kat is what kept us together.”
Wyn’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”
Hallie just watched her for a moment, then Wyn drew her aside, out of the path of nobles streaming back to whatever rooms they occupied during the days.
Wyn lowered her voice. “What do you mean, Kat kept us together?”
Hallie swiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “Haven’t you felt it? The distance growing between us? We hardly ever talk anymore. If you hadn’t planned this trip, I probably wouldn’t have seen you until the next holiday.”
Anger crept into Wyn’s face now. “You think that makes her the glue that held us together? Let me clue you in on something, Hal. I’ve been calling and texting you at least once a week since we graduated two years ago. If we’re drifting apart, it’s because you have been isolating yourself, building walls so that no one can see your pain. Well, guess what? You’re not the only one who was hurt in that accident, and you’re not the only one who lost someone special!”
Hallie glanced at Wyn’s broken antler, and her friend’s face grew darker.
“But don’t you see?” Hallie said, ignoring the pointed glare from her friend. “If I can bring her back, then everything goes back to normal. We have her. We spend more time together. It would be like none of it ever happened.”
Wyn rolled her eyes. “Not everything is so easy. Humans! You always think magic will solve every problem. Hallie, magic will bring its own problems. Haven’t you learned anything from these stupid bargains?”
Hallie’s nose flared at the human comment, but she forged ahead anyway. “You said it yourself. You miss her.”
“Loss is part of life, Hallie. Kat’s moved on. We should, too.”
Hallie caught her breath. How could Wyn say that?
She spun on her heel and stalked off, leaving Wyn blinking at her in surprise.
***
AFTER WYN WAS OUT OF sight, Hallie hurried to a small clearing in the trees, huddling there for at least ten minutes. Tears blurred her vision. Anxiety chewed at her like a disobedient puppy, telling her that she’d just ruined her last friendship, that Wyn would likely never talk to her again. And without Wyn’s help, she’d never figure out who the Fae boy was, never get to keep the knowledge of resurrection, never bring Kat back.
For the millionth time in the last two years, Hallie felt totally alone, and it sank into her bones with the chill of the mist swirling about her. She squeezed her eyes closed.
“Are you quite all right?” came a familiar voice next to her.
She jumped, eyes snapping open, and turned to face the Fae boy. “You really know how to scare a girl, you know that?”
He half smiled. “Apologies.” He gestured behind her at a misty corridor. Must be another demesne. “Can I offer you a cup of tea? Don’t worry, it will form no addiction. It is my fault you’re here, after all. This is the least I can do.”
She nodded mutely, taking the arm he offered her.
Then they were stepping through the mist and...back into the library. She smiled. At least something good was happening this morning.
The table in the center was already set with tea, and the boy led her to one of the comfortable chairs.
Hadn’t she already checked this area for the library? She looked around at the shelves, and the confusion must have been evident on her face judging from the look the boy gave her.
She returned her gaze to him. “How...I searched for this room yesterday for so long. How did I miss it?”
He smiled and picked up the tea pot, nodding as he poured. “Yes, that’s because I’ve made it impossible to find without me.”
“You can do that?”
The fragrant, sweet smell of herbs and flowers drifted toward Hallie’s nose, carrying lavender, rose, chamomile.
He replaced the pot and took a seat, adding a generous spoonful of honey and cream before offering both to Hallie. “I can. This is my own special haven. Those who wish to enter must do so while I am here and be granted entrance or be accompanied by me.”
“But I found it last time.” Hallie added her own heaps of honey and cream to her cup and stirred with a silver spoon topped with a sparkling crystal.
“Yes, because I was here. You would never have made it through the door had I not allowed it. Didn’t you feel the pull of the mist?”
She nodded, and for a few moments, they sat in silence. Hallie’s thoughts drifted between Wyn and Kat and the bargains. The boy simply watched her.
Hallie set her teacup back on the saucer. “What is your name?”
He smiled and almost laughed, replacing his own cup. “You know I can’t tell you that, Hallie.”
“But I need something to call you. I’ve never known your name. But you know mine.”
This time he did laugh. “You have a point. How about a nickname? You can call me Nathan.”
Nathan?
She blinked at him. “A human name?”
“Yes.” He picked his cup back up and continued drinking.
“Why Nathan?”
He waved one hand in the air, and a familiar looking science fiction spaceship appeared to hover over the table, its stern aglow with yellow light. “Are you a science fiction fan? I’m a huge fan of one particular actor.”
Despite her anxiety, despite her nerves and anger and sadness over her argument with Wyn, Hallie found herself laughing. So he was a fan of human science fiction. And a cult classic at that.
“I love that show,” she responded.
“It died too soon,” he said solemnly.
Her breath hitched, and she looked away, cradling her teacup between cold hands. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, simply sipping at the floral tea. Even without magic, it soothed Hallie’s soul. If she did fail and have to stay here, at least the tea would be good.
“So. Nathan,” she finally said, looking back up at him. “Just how am I supposed to figure out who you are?”
He shrugged. “That’s not really my problem, now is it?”
She sighed. “I suppose not.”
Hallie looked around the library again, and Nathan seemed content to just let her sit and look around. He almost looked...proud.
If she had a library like this, she’d be proud too.
As she’d noticed last time she was here, the bookshelves lined the spaces between trees, the wood dark and gleaming, ivy dotted with white flowers climbing over the tops and edges of the shelves. The books gleamed in aesthetic arrangements complemented by sculptures, crystals, and antique human artifacts.
“You really like human things, don’t you?” she said, eyes on an old baseball, yellowed with age and possibly the dust of a baseball diamond.
The mischief faded from his eyes. “I do. But not all Fae are like me.”
“What do you mean?”
He snorted. “If you ever meet my father, just pretend you’re not human. Let me put it that way.”
Hallie remembered Wyn talking about such Fae, the oldest souls who refused to join the rest of their people in relationships with the humans. Those Fae honestly scared her; they were the ones who would kidnap a girl or steal a child to leave a changeling.
“I’ll pass, thanks.” She took a sip from her cup, letting the lavender comfort her.
They sat in silence for a few moments again, this time a strained silence heavy with the weight of reality. The Fae weren’t all as wonderful as the ones public in her world, and she was in their domain.
Wyn had been right to keep her from this. For the first time, she felt the danger prickling the back of her neck.
Then another thought occurred to her, drowning out everything else as her eyes landed on a book bearing the words Genealogy of Urthar. She had no idea who Urthar was.
But perhaps Urthar’s genealogy had an idea who Nathan really was.
“Nathan,” she began tentatively.
“Yes?”
“Can I use this library for research?”
He set his teacup, now empty, on the tray sitting in the middle of the table. She could see the caution in his eyes, the indecision.
“You mean for your end of the bargain, don’t you?” he finally said.
Hallie nodded, holding her breath, afraid to hope.
He rose to his feet. “I suppose I should offer you somewhere to look. Or at least a quiet place to gather your thoughts. Heavens know you won’t find what you’re looking for in here anyway. And whatever you do find...perhaps you will understand why I can’t let you win.”
Her heart sank at that, but she couldn’t quite believe it. After all, he wouldn’t tell her directly if she was on the right track, would he?
“Thank you,” she said. “So how do I find you when I want to be here?”
He reached under his sweater, pulling a chain from where it had been hidden draped around his neck. Two rings hung from the silver. He removed the necklace and the smaller of the two rings, handing it to her. She studied it, admiring the rose gold entwined with silver, the small shining opal, emerald, and some kind of pink stones that all sparkled in the morning sun.
“Wear that ring. When you require admission to the library, simply rub the opal, and this ring”—he held up the ring on the chain—“will alert me.”
She nodded and slipped the ring on her finger, smiling with more joy than she’d felt all day. She finally had a place to start.
