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“Wait!” Aiden told the soldiers. Their lustrous hair falling around faer shoulders as they drew their swords. “We, ah...claim right of the dance.”
The soldier barely blinked. “You can dance all you like. It won’t do you much good.” But he stood aside and let them continue on their way, albeit with two silver-armoured guards and two enormous butterflies following in their wake.
The clearing was brighter than the deep forest they’d left behind. It glittered with lanterns and giant glow worms. Threads of lights, like clear Christmas tree decorations, dangled from the branches.
A red-headed beauty in a stunning pomegranate evening dress sat on a high-backed throne of elaborate living wood and draped in blousy roses. Aiden hardly needed to see her crown of silver and sparkling jewels to be confident that this was the famous Queen Persephone.
The throne next to hers was empty.
Queen Persephone rose, elegant and terrifying. Eyes blazing, she roared, “Thou dare to enter my kingdom? Thou dare to barge into my court? Thine wretched kind is not wanted here.” She waved her hand. In the distance was Brocéliande, and the charred remains of New Avalon.
Wyrden drifted in. “What a lovely surprise seeing you here. I think you’ll find there’s a human saying that fits this occasion: you can check out any time you like, but only fae can leave.”
At least Hades isn’t here. Without his power, and his demons, we still have a chance.
Ruby was clutching the giant ribcage of bones that surrounded her—like a museum exhibit of a long-extinct creature—or an evil witch’s idea of a playpen. Her hair was tussled, her face grimy, but the gossamer dress she was wearing rivalled those of the fae swirling around. Keera raced toward Ruby, and almost barrelled into a giant three-headed dog—Cerberus. Its snake-tail swayed from side to side as if to get a better view. The cobra-like tail then hissed and spat venom at them over Cerberus’ head. The toxic mess spattering to the ground at their feet.
Behind the terrifying three-headed dog was a human figure with fiery hair. Hades! He laughed and pulled on the creature’s leash. “Later.”
Aiden’s heart sank as the King of the Underworld sauntered over to the fae throne.
“Mama,” Ruby called, her little hand reaching through the ivory bones. “Mama!”
The fae stopped, glancing to their king and queen.
Keera and Aiden used the distraction to rush over. “Ruby!” Keera called and held the sword up to her daughter. Ruby’s fingers brushed its hilt and the red stone flared. One of the enormous butterflies swooped over Ruby’s cage, its evening coat tails brushing the ivory bones.
“Thou made it after all,” Queen Persephone said. “Soldiers, what did I say? And you again, Alice. Why, the pleasure is all mine. Or at least it shall be.”
A soldier whispered in her ear. “They claimed the right of the dance.”
Her lips curled upward. “Well then, thou may dance. Then thou shall pay the price.”
The book had said nothing about a price.
Aiden swallowed. What have I done?
Wyrden waved his white cane, his lips curled in a triumphant smile. “I can’t wait to see you both dance.”
“Musicians!” Queen Persephone called.
“Wait. I shall tell you a story first,” Aiden said, picturing the words he’d read in the tome. Treatise On Fae. It was taking everything he had not to try to see what Keera and Alice were doing while he distracted the fae. “A story of a bargain between you and Myrddin Wyllt, signed in the year five hundred and seventy—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Queen Persephone replied. “The child is ours. A child for a child. That is our way. And now the dance.” She clapped her hands and a discordant cacophony of wind instruments began.
“A child for a child,” Keera shouted over the rapid music, sidestepping the fae who tried to pull her into the dance. “Now take her.”
Aiden pushed Changeling Ruby toward Queen Persephone.
Queen Persephone held out a green-tinged hand. “No.”
Aiden raised an eyebrow. “That’s against the terms of Myrddin’s Pact.”
“The pact be no more. Wake up. Myrddin be long gone, while we fae continue on longer than any mortal pact.”
“Surely, your word is binding?” Keera demanded over her shoulder even as she and Alice were whirled away into the dance.
Persephone clapped. “Lawyers, where be my lawyers? They should be here when I’m dealing with Earthsiders. Fetch them immediately, Wyrden.”
Wyrden bowed. “Very well, my lady. At once.”
“In the meantime, musicians, louder! We shall have some fun. Dance. Dance.”
The musicians’ cacophony reached a crescendo. Ruby wailed again, and they matched her wails with harmony and syncopation.
The woods were filled with swirling dancers. Aiden was thrown from one to the next, his hiking clothes out of place in all the finery. He angled his way back toward the cage.
“Ruby!”
“Dada.” Ruby hiccoughed and wiped the tears from her face. “Dada! Dada! Dada! Maaaamaaaa...”
Where is Keera?
He couldn’t see her in the mass of dancing—the chaotic music crashing through the sparkling woody grove, as he whirled around and around. He thought he caught sight of Alice’s brown dress as she danced with a blue Edwardian waistcoated fae with long hair. There. An electric-blue butterfly caught his eye, its wings edged with darkness. Aiden wasn’t even sure how he knew the butterfly was the changeling. but something about faer was familiar. And faer was dancing above Keera’s head as fae pushed her from partner to partner with wild abandon.
“Run, little changeling,” Aiden called. But the changeling didn’t run, or fly away. Swirling over the celebrations, the changeling dipped toward a familiar fae, transforming into a dozen different creatures as if in sheer excitement. A fae in a blue dress so grubby she looked as if she’d been buried in a dungeon...
“Lettie!” the changeling cried out.
The blue-capped fae stood, enraptured, her mouth moving—but Aiden couldn’t hear her over the music. The delight on her face dropped as Wyrden strode toward her, his white cane swinging jauntily. He clapped his hands. “Oh, Burcham, would you be a dear and bring out the dancing shoes? This is going to be fun.”
Burcham?!
Burcham appeared holding a pair of sparkling red dancing shoes awkwardly by the straps in one hand and his briefcase in the other.
What in all the worlds is Burcham doing here?
