The Realm, Maeve’s Ballroom
Meanwhile
Emily avoided falling into the spell this time. It might have made the waiting more bearable, but she didn’t want to lose herself again. She hovered on the fringes of the party, feeling like a wallflower who couldn’t get a date to the prom. Time had lost all meaning for her. It seemed as though she had always been at this party and would spend the rest of eternity there.
She started to protest when a passing man swept her into his arms, then she realized it was Eamon, wearing a glamour that fit the room, even though she felt the rough tweed of his usual clothes when she placed her hand on his shoulder. “Is it my imagination, or are you warmer?” she asked as she fell into step with him..
“I have been in the outside world.”
“Did you find Sophie? Oh, gosh, I never told you how to find her, did I?”
“I found her. I went to the theater, and she was there, where all your friends were mourning your loss.”
“They don’t think I’m dead, do they?” she asked in alarm, forgetting to keep her voice low as they danced cheek-to-cheek.
“I believe it is what the newspapers call a candlelight vigil.”
“And Sophie was there? I guess she’d have to be, but she’d have hated every minute. Obviously, you survived the encounter. How did it go?”
“I warned her to stay away.”
Emily snorted. “Yeah, that’ll do a lot of good.” At his blank look, she explained, “When I was feeling lonely here in the city and missed my big sister, I got a bulldog to keep me company. Do you get the picture?” He obviously didn’t, so she clarified further, “Sophie can be stubborn.”
“But I didn’t tell her why she should stay away.”
“You think that’s a good thing?”
“If I’d told her she was the one Maeve really wanted, do you think she’d have stayed away?”
“Wow, you understand her pretty well.” They danced a few steps in silence, then she said, “While you were out and about, did you figure a way to get me out of here?”
“Maeve’s court seems to be enchanted so that no human may leave without permission.”
“So, I’m stuck. Do you want to know what I learned while you were out?”
“You learned something?”
“I did.” She glanced around the party. “Is there somewhere we can talk privately?” He steered her off the dance floor to a secluded corner, and after one more glance around, she got out her phone to show him the map. “Does this mean anything to you?”
He squinted at the image on the screen. “It’s the palace. She’s found it.” He sounded stunned, and his breathing became more rapid. “Where did you find this?”
“In Maeve’s room. But I thought you couldn’t map this place.”
“There are some markers … But if she knows where the palace is and she hasn’t acted, there must be more to it than that.”
“Like drawing a sword from a stone. But that still doesn’t explain why she needs Sophie.” Her stomach growled, and she winced in embarrassment. “I don’t suppose you brought me any food?”
He smiled. “I have cookies. And milk.”
“You spoil me.”
“Your sister gave me a cookie, and I liked it well enough to bring them to you.”
“If she’s giving you food, she likes you.”
“It was an emergency. Someone saw us together, and she thought that was bad. I was too weak for glamour without human food.”
“I wonder who that could have been,” she said as he handed her a cookie from his pocket. She devoured three cookies and half a small carton of milk before thinking to offer him a cookie. His reaction was a visual representation of sheer bliss. His eyes went heavy-lidded, and all the tension drained from his face as the corners of his mouth turned up. She tried to memorize his expression to use the next time she needed to portray that kind of ecstasy in a role.
“Perhaps I could go find this palace, and that would help me learn what more might be needed,” he mused after he’d finished the cookie. “Though I hate to leave you alone again.”
“No, go!” she urged. “It’s more useful than you hanging out here with me. Anything you learn could help.” She looked up at him, and the way he looked back at her made her shiver. “I know I’m not supposed to thank you directly,” she said, suddenly feeling shy with him, “but, well, I don’t know what I’d have done without you—other than not being here at all, I guess, but you know what I mean.”
He tilted his head and studied her before saying, “Do I?”
“You’ve brought me food and carried messages, and you’ve tried to help, and I—well, I’m glad, I guess.” That still sounded empty. She was a good Southern girl whose mother had forced her practically at gunpoint to write thank-you notes for every gift she received or party she attended, and expressing appreciation without direct thanks didn’t feel right. “Aw, hell,” she muttered as she placed her hands on either side of his face and kissed him. He froze for a moment before responding and pulling her against him.
“I didn’t realize this was how humans customarily expressed gratitude,” he whispered, his face still so close that his lips brushed hers as he spoke.
“Only when we’re dealing with people who’ll be insulted or think we’re obligated to them, or whatever your deal is, if we dare use the words ‘thank you,’” she said. “And only when—” She broke off when the front door opened and two fairy men limped into the lobby, followed by a few others who seemed relatively unscathed. The one with the slightest limp had red burns across his neck and on his cheek, while the other walked like he had a broken foot. “Something tells me you didn’t convince her to stay away,” Emily remarked.
He kept his arm around her waist as she turned to watch the proceedings. “Perhaps I underestimated her stubbornness.”
“They must have really pissed her off. Usually, she doesn’t have to get physical. They give up when she destroys them psychologically.”
Maeve soon appeared at the top of the stairs and forgot to look regal as she hurried down, demanding, “Where is she?”
“She declined our invitation to join us,” the one with the burned face said with a wince.
“She got away?”
“You might say that, your majesty. She had a message for you, though. She said that until you release her sister, she will do everything in her power to bring you down.”
“Empty threats,” Maeve said with a dismissive wave. “The two of you couldn’t overpower one small human within our own realm?”
“Forgive us, your majesty,” the limping one said, “but she does have power—magical power. She is an enchantress.”
Emily barely bit back her exclamation at that, but it wouldn’t have mattered because Maeve’s shriek was loud enough to drown it out. “She can’t be!”
“She broke every spell we used,” the one with the burned face said. “Her power isn’t controlled, but it is there. I would consider her threats to be real.”
Maeve spun, searching the room, then spotted Emily and came toward her. Emily slipped out of Eamon’s grasp and met Maeve halfway. “What do you know of this?” Maeve asked.
“It’s the first I’ve heard of it, but it doesn’t surprise me. It explains a lot. And I would take any threat my sister makes very, very seriously.”
Maeve grabbed Emily by the face, held her for a second, then released her, hurling her away with such force that she stumbled. “You’ve been touched by magic, but I don’t find it in you. How can that be? You are sisters!”
“I’m also about six inches taller than Sophie. Maybe I got the height and she got the magic. Or she could have learned something. I don’t know.”
Maeve turned back to her henchmen. “What else happened?”
While the two injured fairies told a long story about how helpless they’d been when confronted with a being of such magnificent power, Emily edged her way back to Eamon. “Is it true?” she asked him.
“I hadn’t considered it. Perhaps that was the power I sensed in her.”
“Well, if Sophie has magical powers, the world had better look out, that’s all I can say. Maeve may have bitten off more than she can chew.”
At the moment, Maeve was chewing out her henchmen. “Incompetent! That’s what you are! All of you!” Her beautiful face screwed up into an ugly red mask of fury. “I don’t care if she is an enchantress, you are fae! How many armies do I have to send after one small human girl?”
Eamon stepped forward. “I’ve found her.”
That got Maeve’s attention. “Where is she? Is she here?”
“I didn’t say I have her, just that I’ve found her. I might be able to do so again, and she trusts me now.”
Emily stared at him, open-mouthed. What was he up to? Sophie said you could never trust a fairy, but she’d thought he was different. He then gave her a sidelong glance that she interpreted to mean that he was up to something. She decided to play along. “No! You can’t!” she shouted, grabbing his arm.
Maeve ignored her, focusing on Eamon. “You know I would be most grateful if you brought her to me,” she purred.
“I’m sure you would, but I don’t need more books. I do need to know why you want her. You lied to me about Emily Drake. I will do nothing more for you until you tell me the truth so I may decide if I want to be a part of it.”
Okay, this was a pretty good plan, Emily thought, impressed. But would Maeve go for it?