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HALLIE SLAMMED THE genealogy book closed. Urthar was apparently only a fictional figure, his genealogy also fictional. At least it was judging from the author’s notes at the end of the book.
She sighed and stood to replace the book on the shelf.
“Not what you were looking for?” Nathan smirked from his leather armchair. He pulled the bow across the strings of his shining violin, letting out a long, wavering note.
She returned a tight smile in his direction. While she’d been studiously going through what she thought would be her first lead, he’d been sitting in the room, watching her, plucking and bowing on his violin, occasionally laughing at something she picked up.
Though she had to admit it was gorgeous music. Was it Fae? Or was he simply making it up as he went?
Hallie faced the shelves as he continued to weave a spell with the music. His presence was distracting. Was that his plan? Distract her too much to focus? Or just keep her from seeing whatever she wasn’t meant to see?
And she couldn’t figure him out. One minute, he seemed determined to see her fail, to find out nothing more about him. And in the next minute, he was telling her things one might tell a friend, as if trying to forge a connection to her. It was like he couldn’t decide if he wanted her to win or lose.
And he had made many of the same insinuations as Wyn had: magic wouldn’t fix everything.
She blinked back the thought and stared at the bookshelf before her. She needed to come at this more strategically. Perhaps if she started at shelf one and worked her way around the room? She could examine each of the artifacts and the titles of the books, then select the ones that seemed most illuminating to examine further.
Decision made, she grabbed the notepad from its place on the table and strode to the first shelf, letting her gaze move from top to bottom without missing a single item. It appeared to hold a number of informational texts, mostly on the human world. An entire set of encyclopedias. Ancient maritime navigational instruments that gleamed brassy in the light.
Not a single Fae item, unless she counted the winding ivy. Those white flowers seemed to follow her every move.
She returned her attention to the shelf, hoping she’d missed something small, any clue. But there was nothing her eye could spot out of place in this tribute to humanity’s knowledge.
“Finding anything interesting?” Nathan said. She could still hear that smirk in his voice, even though she didn’t turn to look at him.
Instead, she ran a finger over the spine of one of the encyclopedias. “So you really do like humans, don’t you? Why?”
The music stopped, and she heard the soft thud of him resting the bottom of the instrument on the ground. He didn’t answer for so long, she thought he didn’t intend to.
Finally, he spoke, his words thoughtful, filled with respect, almost awe. “Do you know much human history, Hallie?”
Now she did turn from the shelf, interested. Her history schooling had stopped after World War II, her school’s curriculum deciding that any more modern history would be taught in more advanced history classes. The ones only the history geeks took.
She hadn’t been a history geek.
“Some. Not as much as I should,” she admitted.
“What about the Fae?”
That one she knew. After all, she’d been studying it for the past two years, intensively, from myth to folk tale to the few texts the Fae had provided about themselves.
“As much as a human learning about the Fae could know.” There was far too much the Fae didn’t share with humans.
He nodded, his eyes distant. “Then you should know enough to understand that the Fae are...harsh. For centuries we squabbled among ourselves, much like you humans. But we have always been sensitive to things humans can tolerate, like iron, certain varieties of wood. Where we had magic to make our lives easier, better, humans did not.”
Hallie nodded. “Where are you going with this?”
Nathan looked at her, his eyes shining. “Humans are some of the most fascinating species. Without magic, look at all you have created!” He stood and began gesturing to bits of his collection. “You used the stars just like us, but instead of speaking to them, you observed them. Charted them. You developed technology after technology to pull yourselves out of the dirt. All while the Fae continued to fight among themselves and hate anything that wasn’t magical.”
He took a few steps toward her. “But it’s not just that. Fae are cold. They care only about their families. Their bloodlines. Or at least they used to. Our interactions with you...they’re changing us, little by little. You care for each other even though you could look out only for yourselves. You build on each other in order to make yourselves stronger as a whole. You have...compassion.”
Had humans really had that much effect on the Fae? Hallie’s thoughts drifted to the words Nathan himself had said about his father, about the older Fae who were still rooted in their traditional ways.
And she thought of all the humans who didn’t think of each other. The ones who stepped on the backs of the weak or those with fewer resources to climb to the top. The ones who cared more about their wallets than another life.
The ones who would get behind the wheel of a car, inebriated. Who endangered the lives of everyone they encountered rather than call a ride.
She looked back at him, wondering how many of her thoughts were visible in her eyes.
Enough.
“I can see you don’t agree,” he said, turning back to his chair. He gathered up his violin and turned toward the door. “Think about it, though. I know not all humans are like that. But the same can be said for any species.”
She bit her lip, unsure how to respond. “I suppose.”
He nodded, taking the first step into the mist. “I’ll leave you to it.”
And then he was gone, leaving her alone in his sanctuary.
Hallie glanced back at the rest of the shelves, sighing. She had a long way to go.
***
HALLIE DIDN’T LEAVE the library until the light of day dimmed and Wyn appeared at the door with Nathan and Vesque. Wyn didn’t mention the fight after breakfast, acting as if it had never happened.
“Have you even eaten today?” Wyn demanded as soon as she entered, the Fae close on her heels. Relief flooded Hallie at the simple words. Were they talking again?
Before she could respond, Hallie’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t even given food a thought, too consumed with reading books. All of them dead ends.
“I’ll take that as a no,” Nathan said. “I can walk you ladies to the dining room.”
“Does that mean you’re finally going to join us for a meal?” Wyn said.
Nathan laughed. “Not this time. I’m afraid I’ve given quite enough of myself away already. Any more, and I might lose my bargain.”
Darn.
Nathan turned, and the girls followed behind him in the direction of the same glade where they’d had breakfast.
Each step brought back the words Hallie had exchanged with her friend. Wyn didn’t bring it up, but the comments sat like weights on Hallie’s shoulders. And truthfully, Hallie was still angry. How could her best, last friend accuse her of being the reason they were drifting apart? Hadn’t she tried to contact Wyn as well?
She pulled her phone out of her pocket, pulling up the messaging app as they walked and checking the dates and timestamps on their most recent messages.
The last ones were all centered around this disastrous trip, a flurry of messages for planning, but before that?
Lines of texts from Wyn over the last few months. And Hallie had only responded three times.
Maybe Wyn was right.
Irritated, Hallie hit the power button and shoved the phone back in her pocket. The battery was low, but she’d just throw it on the night table when they got back to the demesne. She didn’t understand how, but when she’d left it on the table between their beds, she’d woken to a full battery. Weird Fae magic.
Suddenly they were at the door to the dining room...demesne...glade thing. And then Nathan and Vesque were gone, and it was just the two of them.
Without looking at her, Wyn led the way inside.
Okay, so neither of them was over that fight.
