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It had been years since Cassandra had been to Elwenhal. The first time she visited the realm of the fae, she was a child, having been lured there by the fairy queen. The queen of the fae took children for many reasons: boredom, hunger, to decorate her great tree-palace, to give as a reward to some minion who’d been promised payment. When Cassandra was stolen, it was because Queen Anindel was bored and sought a pretty child to entertain her court. She had chosen Cassandra because she’d heard her singing near the birdbath in one of the courtyards of Ravenhold.
Of course, Melvalda hadn’t hesitated to enter Elwenhal and threaten the fairy queen to her face that if ever she touched Cassandra again, she would split her in halves with her mind. From that day onward, it was said that Melvalda was the only sorceress in all of Vallinwir who the queen of the fae had ever feared. It was Cassandra’s only leverage now, as she walked through the great trees of Elwenhal, her hand on the sword at her hip.
The fae hated steel and metal. Cassandra could see them down in the undergrowth, watching with glowing eyes as she came. Some were tall as she and some were small, naked little men and women, wearing nutshells and bird beaks as hats, covered in moss and leaves and mud. They hissed when they saw the gleam of Cassandra’s sword and the silver armor that encased her, hissed and retreated into the shadows.
Here in this world, it was always twilight. The orange and purple light of dusk reached long through the towering trees, stars winking on the dark edge of the sky, the distant moon hovering just above the ever-setting sun. Birds sang softly, trapped forever between day and night, and creatures growled and stirred, hunting in the dusk-light for prey that kept to the shadows.
Cassandra walked serenely forward, though her heart was racing in her chest. She called Aereth’s name a few times and received no answer, though she was certain she was getting close. Aereth was a child born of magick, and as a result, she left a magick residue wherever she went that made it easy for a sorceress to follow her.
The third time Cassandra called Aereth’s name, she heard a giggle. Cassandra turned her head, listening. Another giggle. “Aereth?” she called, and her voice seemed to echo through the still trees.
The giggling grew louder. A second later, and Aereth appeared, chasing a butterfly that kept landing on her nose. The child was happy and unhurt and wearing the same tunic, breeches, and bonnet that she wore back in the other world, where she was lying in pain in a bed, in Neserie’s hut, in Eldaris.
Aereth rose up on her mud-stained knees and clapped her hands, attempting and failing yet another time to catch the butterfly. But she was having fun. She giggled and chased it again on all fours. The butterfly drifted on and landed on Cassandra’s shoulder, opening and closing its orange wings slowly, and when Aereth laid eyes on Cassandra, she squealed in delight and clapped her hands.
Smiling, Cassandra leaned down and lifted the girl onto her hip. She was shocked by how big Aereth had grown. The girl was now roughly the size of a five-year-old but still could not walk.
“Sandra!” said Aereth, smiling through a gap in her teeth. She reached for Cassandra’s face and giggled shrilly.
“Talking now, are we? And look at how big you are!” Cassandra said in wonder, holding the child in a tight arm. “Your mother will be amazed to see you . . . If we ever find our way out of here.”
Cassandra glanced hopelessly around at the trees and curling vines and flowers. Neserie had warned her that she would have to find her own way out once she was in Elwenhal. At the time, Cassandra was confident that she would find her way back through a pool of water, since that was one certain way to enter the land of Elwenhal from Vallinwir, but looking around now, she realized she hadn’t seen a pool of water since she’d been there. Not a pond, not a stream, not a lake.
The butterfly on Cassandra’s shoulder lifted away suddenly, and Aereth let out a shriek of laughter and made a grab for it. As Cassandra watched, the butterfly hovered before them, and in a twinkle, took the shape of Queen Anindel, the fairy queen of Elwenhal.
Queen Anindel was just as Cassandra remembered her: quite tall and beautiful, with long pointed ears reaching from curtains of waist-length, blonde hair, and eyes that were as deeply green as her forests. Her eyes had always reminded Cassandra of Melvalda, for they were calculating and sometimes cruel. But she looked at Cassandra fondly now, her pink lips turning in a small smile.
“Cassandra,” said Queen Anindel pleasantly, “you have returned to me.”
“Not to you, my lady,” Cassandra corrected. “I have come for the child.”
“And shall you give yourself to me in her stead?” said the queen curiously.
“No, my lady,” Cassandra answered. “I shall give you nothing.”
Sudden giggling and twittering from the trees. The nearby fairies found that amusing. So did Queen Anindel, whose smile slowly widened.
“But you know the laws of this land,” said Queen Anindel. “If you take something from Elwenhal, you must leave something in its place.”
“Except the child is not truly here,” Cassandra pointed out.
Anindel’s eyes snapped irritably at this. “True,” she admitted. “But the child will be here eventually, body and soul. Her mother will arrive for her too late. And you know what shall happen to you if you linger here. You, also, shall be trapped body and soul. Then you both shall be mine.” She smiled. “As it should have been years ago.”
Cassandra was once again reminded of Melvalda and hated to admit it, for she saw Anindel as an evil woman, stealing children from their cribs and giving them to her minions to toy with. She knew the only reason Aereth hadn’t been tormented and harmed was because she wasn’t truly present in the dimension yet. The fruit was still taking time to draw her over.
Cassandra closed a protective arm around Aereth, who had dropped her forehead against Cassandra and was watching Anindel quietly from behind wisps of auburn hair.
“Zelda will come in time,” Cassandra said confidently. “And even if she doesn’t, she would never allow you to keep her child! She will come here, and she is a sorceress mightier even than Melvalda.”
More twittering from the trees. Cassandra’s eyes moved back and forth, glaring at the unseen watchers.
Anindel had also laughed, her smile widening to reveal pin-point fangs at each corner. “Do you know why Melvalda is more powerful than I? Because she is half-fae and half-elf. A rare breed of halfling, for our kind do seldom lay with elven. But as a result, she is one of the most powerful mages in all of Vallinwir. It comes solely from her blood. She owes nothing to skill. This Zelda you speak of could not hope to match Melvalda’s power. You are lying to unnerve me.” She tilted her head. “Or perhaps to comfort yourself.”
More giggling from the trees.
“Zelda will never let you keep her child,” insisted Cassandra somberly. “That is the truth. Which you shall learn if you continue this foolhardy game.”
Queen Anindel only smiled, her green eyes bright. “We shall see.”