The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows across the floor when I finally took a break from attempting to sprout seeds. Tired, but needing something to do with my hands, I began palming the seeds. The familiarity of the motion was reassuring, and for a moment I could pretend that I was back with my brothers, practicing for a con job, not trapped in a strange faerie world.
See? Here’s the seed. Now it’s gone. Now it’s here again. If I challenged Valente to a sleight of hand contest, I might have a chance. However, he would probably use magic to make something actually disappear, and then where would I be? I sighed, letting the seeds fall to the bed. It was all about misdirection. Make them watch the spinning wheel as I slip straw up my sleeve, replacing it with gold. There had to be something from my past that I could use against Valente. Someone knocked on the wall outside my room.
“Yes?”
“I am here to take you to the Dusk Market,” came a tiny voice. Drusia stood in the hole that had been my doorway, waiting for me to allow her in. I beckoned her to enter, silently noting that I needed a new door.
The little green faerie fluttered in and skidded to a stop. “Are you ready? Lady Lorella and Corine are already at the market. They shall be cross if we don’t meet them soon. The market doesn’t stay open for long. Otherwise that would be a night market, and how silly would that be?” Words flowed out of Drusia like a rushing a river as she twirled around the room, radiating excitement. At a loss, I had to put a hand on her shoulder to slow her twirls and chatter.
“Drusia, you’re making me dizzy watching you and I only understood half of what you said.”
The small faerie stopped moving long enough to stare up at me with her large emerald eyes, the slitted pupils unblinking as she took me in. After a moment she burst out in a large grin, happy, sharp teeth splitting her tiny face. “Now come! My lady should not be kept waiting.” The faerie pulled at my hand, and I grabbed my cane before allowing her to lead me from the room.
“Shall we fly there? It would be much faster,” Drusia said, looking hopefully at my wings.
“Sadly, I have not quite mastered how to use these,” I said, self-consciously touching the dragonfly wings at my back. In truth, only the extra weight on my shoulders reminded me I even had them. Anytime I actively tried to engage the new muscles, my wings flopped back and forth haphazardly, nothing close to lifting me from the ground. “I’d feel better if we walk down the path.”
“Very well,” Drusia conceded, though she looked disappointed.
I had no coin for the Dusk Market but that had never stopped me in markets before. I took the descent slowly, careful not to stumble on upturned roots. My limbs ached more than I cared to admit, and I held tightly onto my cane, the moonstone head gripped tightly in my hand. My faerie guide was clearly frustrated at my sluggish pace, constantly fluttering up ahead before reluctantly walking back to me. This repeated until my feet finally hit the grass of the courtyard.
The clearing had been completely transformed. No longer sunny and open, the bruise-purple sky cast soft shadows on a new market that seemingly had appeared out of nowhere. Instead of wide-open fields, there were billowing silk tents in jewel hues, each with tables of curious wares. Stranger still were the fay that sold the wares, a vast collection of creatures with skin of scales, feathers, stone and more. I stood, transfixed, while Drusia scanned the crowd.
“There she is, come on,” Drusia said, interrupting my awe. The faerie led me past several tents, though I longed to examine each. A burnt orange tent containing tall sunflowers was guarded by a creature with tree bark for skin. A silver faerie stood under an iridescent, oil slick black tent selling a collection of the most ornate mirrors I had ever seen. Other tents had unusual foods with delicious aromas, trinkets made of glowing crystals, spider silk cloth that shimmered in the last of the evening light. Drusia pulled at my skirt every time I slowed to examine the variety of goods for sale until we reached a stall by the waterfall at the edge of the courtyard, the tent a blue silk the color of the pond during the day. There, Lorella stood, examining the merchant’s wares, Corine by her side.
“Sister,” Corine said to Drusia, “it took you long enough. Lady Lorella has been waiting since the market opened.”
“It’s not my fault, this one cannot fly,” Drusia pouted.
“It’s no matter,” Lorella said, looking up from the stall. She smiled when she saw the awed look on my face. “Do you like the market?”
“It’s unlike anything I have ever seen.” I remembered the market from the Spring Faire in Sterling. The merchants made their stalls out of wooden crates or the back of wagons, some with rough spun, beige tents. At the time, I had found the goods, coming from all over Reynallis, to be a vast selection. Looking back, everything at the market in Sterling was mundane, but also familiar, in a way that brought a pang of homesickness. It was difficult to believe it was only at the last Spring Faire where I met both Pel and Casper. It was at the faire where I convinced people that I could “transform” straw into gold, using the golden thread Pel had gifted me. Mindlessly, I tugged at the gold thread around my wrist.
“Nor?”
I snapped back to the present. Lorella was staring at me, and I realized I must have missed a question, as she clearly waited for an answer.
“What?”
“You looked so far away. Where was your mind?” Lorella asked. She was fingering a smooth piece of turquoise sea glass. It glowed under her touch.
“The market from my home,” I said absently.
“Was it similar to here?”
I let my gaze travel down the table where the merchant was displaying his wares, all pieces of rounded sea glass, in shades of violets, dark blues, grass greens and pale grays. I looked up, glancing at the merchant, who was waiting patiently for Lorella, but kept sliding curious glances my way. His skin was seaweed green, scaled, like that of a fish. He stood like a human, but flapping gills protruded from his neck. His bulbous eyes never blinked.
“No, this market is rather different,” I admitted.
“Oh well, no worries, you’ll get used to the one here soon enough.” Lorella said. She was only half paying attention, her focus fixed on the piece of glass in her hand.
“How strong are your magics today, Peseltine?”
The green creature looked down at the turquoise glass in Lorella’s hands. “They are infused with solid Magia Acqueal spells, Lady Lorella, if that’s what you’re asking. I never bring less to market.”
Lorella smiled, picking up a piece of robin’s egg blue glass, weighing it in one hand and comparing it to the turquoise glass. “I would never accuse you of such, good Master Peseltine, but I need something that has been strongly infused with the pull of the tides. And I wouldn’t say that I was disappointed with the piece that my sister Rosertina purchased from you last month. It wasn’t your best work.”
The green creature, Peseltine, flapped the gills on his neck. “You wound me, milady. I would never sell a noble fay anything but the best.”
“You don’t need to play coy with me. I spend more time working than my sister. I won’t tell, but you need to do better.”
Peseltine sighed, small bubbles escaping his thick lips. “Fine, it wasn’t my best, but she didn’t notice or mind. Besides, the token she traded for it failed me during its first attempt at growing a seaweed bed, and now I have nothing but stunted things.”
Lorella smiled slyly and pulled out an acorn, like the one we had been working on before. No, I thought, looking closer at the seed, this one was somehow different than the acorns in the forest. This acorn pulsed with a faint gold light. Peseltine took the acorn from Lorella and held it up.
“And you infused this one? Personally?” Peseltine asked, before bringing the acorn close and smelling it. He inhaled deeply, and let out a small, contented sigh that sent his gills fluttering.
“Indeed. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to create my tokens,” Lorella said, giving the merchant a wink.
“A token from the royal family,” Peseltine said, still examining the acorn. I could tell he didn’t want to fully admit how much he desired it. I saw the same act from bartering human merchants back in Reynallis.
While Lorella and Peseltine bantered back and forth, sometimes complimenting each other’s work and other times negotiating prices, my attention turned to the sea glass on the table. The smooth glass was lovely, lustrous in the evening glow. My hand was already brushing over the pieces before I realized I was falling back into my old habit of petty theft. Unlike the years I had stolen to feed myself and my brothers, I didn’t need to steal a piece of glass, but the action felt so familiar that I suddenly wanted to. I slipped my hand over a purple piece, dark as the midnight sky, easily palming it. Lorella and Peseltine were still bantering and didn’t notice. I knew I should drop the glass back on the table. Rule one of a successful thief was not to con someone who knew you, and Peseltine now knew me clearly. I had no need of the trinket, but I wanted to know that I was still the person I was before being dragged to this strange world, even if that person was a thief.
“You know you need to buy that,” a voice whispered. I turned to see Corine, her wide, dark eyes staring at me, pointedly not looking at my hand.
I silently cursed myself for being so careless. “I was only looking at it,” I whispered back, dropping the purple glass on the table. Heat rushed to my face. Refusing to look at Corine, I deliberately began to inspect all the pieces of glass, trying to look like I had simply been examining each one, not trying to steal it. I picked up another piece, rubbing my fingers over the smooth surface and holding it up to the fading light to better see the color.
When I touched a piece of gray glass, I gasped. There was a tingling sensation that ran up my fingers and shot into my heart. It was faint, but undeniable. I felt a tug from it, some force that pulled at my own magic.
“What is this?” I asked.
Peseltine and Lorella stopped mid-conversation and turned to me. Peseltine gave me an appraising look, his buggy eyes intense.
“Ahh, so the broken princess does have a gift,” he said, a knowing smile splitting his scaly face. I squirmed, seeing his needle-sharp teeth.
“She isn’t broken,” Lorella hissed, her demeanor suddenly stern.
Peseltine took a long look at my cane before finally saying, “My apologies, Princess. I must have been misinformed.”
I couldn’t form words. Until he spoke, I had not considered myself a princess or broken. Lorella cut in on my behalf.
“You were. Princess Elenora is as whole and royal as any of my brothers or sisters.” Lorella’s words were a command.
“Again, my apologies,” Peseltine said, giving a short bow. I couldn’t tell if he was apologizing to Lorella or me.
“Understood and accepted,” Lorella said, but she sounded stiff.
“But yes, that token is quite special,” Peseltine said, eager to change the topic.
“It feels,” I started, trying to put into the words the odd sensation I got from holding it. “I can feel it reaching out to me,” I finally said, uncomfortable talking about an inanimate object as though it were a living thing.
“Yes, that one was most strongly infused with tidal magic,” Peseltine said.
“May I?” asked Lorella, holding out her hand. I didn’t want to let go of the glass, the buzzing a pleasant reminder that there was magic inside of me, but I forced myself to let it slide out of my grip and into her waiting palm. The moment the glass left my hand I felt a hollow emptiness as my magic went silent.
“Oh,” she breathed, and I could tell that Lorella felt the pull as well. She held up the token, studying it. Between her fingers the glass looked so ordinary. All the other pieces were lovely colors, but this piece, while not ugly, was a dull, dove gray.
“It looks so plain,” Drusia blurted out. As everyone turned to look at her, she covered her mouth with her hands.
“Hush,” Corine scolded as Drusia fluttered around.
“Indeed,” Peseltine said. “It is often the plainest pieces that will pick up the most magic.”
“Very well, Master Peseltine. We will trade you my acorn for it,” Lorella said.
“But—” Peseltine started, but then he thought better. “Of course, milady.” He gave a stiff nod as he pocketed the acorn. Lorella turned to me and handed me back the gray glass. I immediately felt the pull of my power as soon as its smooth surface touched my skin.
Lorella bid farewell to Peseltine before taking my arm and leading me away from the blue tent. We passed an apple green tent manned by a willowy faerie wearing a wreath of buttercup blossoms and a midnight blue tent speckled with stars that displayed what looked like floating icicles, each illuminated with some light source I couldn’t see. I was so distracted by the wares in the tents and the pulsing feeling from the sea glass that Lorella had to drag me along; at one point, I nearly tripped when my cane hit a rock. I would have fallen, but both Corine and Drusia were standing next to me, quick green and purple hands holding me up.
“Careful, Princess,” Drusia scolded me. Like so many of the faeries, she and her sister were surprisingly strong despite their small size.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Lorella asked, as I took a moment to steady myself.
“Maybe I could use a brief rest,” I said, frustrated with my weak body. I wanted to see the strange and wonderful wares in the stalls, but all this walking was more than I had done since being poisoned, and it was taking a toll. I had to lean heavily on the cane for support as the burn reignited in my bones.
Lorella slowed her pace until we were on the edge of the courtyard, a good distance from the tents and near the wall of the great tree that made up the palace. There, we rested on a large stump. It was a relief to sit down, though I hated how much I needed a break after so short a walk. In my previous life as a thief and even as a lady betrothed to a future king, I could run and walk and ride all day without a problem.
“Thank you,” I said after I had taken a moment to catch my breath. Lorella wasn’t looking at me but staring out at the market. There was a faraway look in her eyes.
“Things aren’t going to be easy for you,” she said. There was a sadness in her voice I hadn’t heard before.
“I’ve been in difficult situations before,” I immediately said. I wasn’t sure why I wanted to reassure this faerie. Perhaps it was because even if I didn’t fully trust any fay, Lorella was the closest thing I had to a friend here.
Lorella turned and looked at me, her dark gray eyes searching my face. “I imagine you have. Pel said he met you when you were living in the woods, stealing to survive.”
There was no malice in her words, but I stiffened at the mention of Pel. I had thought him a friend, and that mistake had cost me everything. “I’m used to disasters,” I said, a sharp edge to my voice.
Lorella took in my tone. “You know, he asked me to look after you. Make sure you would recover.”
I went cold with resentment. “If he’s the real reason you are helping me, then don’t bother. I don’t want anything from him ever again.” I started to rise, but Lorella gripped my arm, her strong, slender fingers immobilizing me.
“Nor, stop. Pel was only doing his duty to my mother by reporting on Sterling.”
“He lied to me. He betrayed me,” I spat out. I remembered the moment when he turned from his battle with Casper, when he had Casper at sword point, the merest breath away from killing him. I felt the sick shock of it all over again.
“You know that’s not the only reason I want to help you,” Lorella insisted, changing tactics. “I told you, you’re kin now. And I know firsthand how cruel the court can be.”
I laughed, but it was a humorless sound. “You? A faerie? You’re one of them. You have no idea what it’s like.” I knew I was being cruel to the one person at court who had gone out of her way to be nice to me, but in that moment, I didn’t care. Thinking of Pel had me bitter.
“I may not know what it is to have been human, but I can tell you all about being thought of as inferior at court, and it’s not a position you will want. You must be stronger than that. As a bastard, it was a lesson I had to learn firsthand. Don’t let anyone, much less a simple water faerie merchant, talk down to you. Broken is not a nickname one can easily overcome.”
For a moment I wanted to argue with Lorella, tell her that I was broken, so it did not matter who knew about it. My cane was all the proof one needed. And beyond my physical weakness, there was the part of me inside that was broken, the missing piece of me that used to be human.
And yet. I was touched by her kindness, even more so when she reached out and clasped my hands in hers. I expected many terrible things in the court of the fay, but I never expected a friend. And maybe there was something to what she said.
“People love to believe what they want to be true,” I finally said, thinking back to my days of schemes and cons. “I used to convince people all sorts of things were true.” And in a moment of honesty, I told Lorella a bit about my past, about who I was before I met Casper and went to the palace. Instead of disapproving, Lorella seemed impressed. In a strange way, her reaction made me feel proud.
“You already know the importance of a good story. That will be a good skill for you to have here.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I suppose you’re right. This whole time I’ve been so convinced about what I can’t do, I’ve forgotten what I can,” I admitted. A small fire reignited in me, one that had gone out the moment I had drank the sitano. Elrik might have poisoned me, but he hadn’t killed me.
“It seems my niece was a master of disguise even before coming to court,” Lorella added.
“Niece? Right. I keep forgetting that you’re my aunt, you don’t look much older than me.”
“I was born much later than my siblings.”
“Do you have many?” I asked. “It feels strange to think I have family I don’t know about.” I recalled the cluster of white-haired, blue-eyed faeries that had stood near the queen during my audience with her.
“Five,” Lorella told me. “Two girls, the twins Rosertina and Fabritsa, and my brothers Cosimo, Pietrael, and Valente.” Lorella frowned. “It was six, of course, before Soren died. And I am sure they will want to get to know you.”
I let out a short laugh. “You are the only one here who has been at all interested in getting to know me.” I didn’t mention my evening with Marasina.
Drusia snorted. “What about me?”
I smiled. “My apologies. You, Corine, and Drusia,” I amended.
A slight golden blush rose to Lorella’s cheeks. “My brothers and sisters will come around . . .” She stared at the ground, uncomfortable. “I believe they are waiting to see if you make it through the challenge first.”
“Ah, so they are waiting to see if I am worthy of knowing?”
Lorella gave a helpless shrug. “I can see if they could be convinced to meet sooner. Though to be honest, as the youngest and a bastard, they really prefer not to have much to do with me either.”
I shook my head. “Don’t bother.” I reached out for her hand. “True family is there for you no matter what. They don’t make you prove yourself worthy of their love.”
Lorella smiled at that. “Come, let us look at the rest of the market,” she said, rising. I followed, feeling slightly better from the short rest.
“You still haven’t told me what this does,” I said, pulling out the gray sea glass. “Or why it feels so . . .” I searched for the right words but couldn’t find anything adequate, “strange.”
“Sorry, I forget you are unfamiliar with tokens,” Lorella said as we headed back to the tents. The night was growing darker, and I noticed small floating lights moving around the courtyard overhead, adding a soft illumination to the creatures below. The smell of jasmine permeated the evening air. It felt like something out of a dream.
“That glass is infused with tidal magic. It will help you to summon your magic. Tidal magic calls to other magic.”
“What do you mean infused?”
“Princess doesn’t even know of infusing? But how does she pay for things?” Drusia, who had been walking behind us with her sister, interjected, and started tittering till Lorella gave her a sharp look which silenced her.
“We use such tokens as our currency.”
“Your money?”
“I guess you could say that. I’ve heard humans trade metal coins because they don’t have magic,” Lorella said, sounding incredulous at the concept. “But in the fay realms, we trade tokens that are infused with magic; they can be traded for goods or services or other tokens. As part of the Magia Viveralis, you and I can infuse tokens with life magic.”
I was intrigued with the system, my desire to summon my magic even stronger knowing I would practically be able to create my own money. I could see why Lorella would think it strange that humans traded coins, but almost immediately I saw a problem. “But what about fay without magic?” I asked, darting a look back at Drusia and Corine behind us. “You said only noble fay have magic, or at least they have the most of it.”
“That’s true, and we can make the most powerful tokens. But a lot of lesser fay have some level of magic, and even those that have none can earn boons of their own.”
“Boons?”
“If a fay does a job for the higher fay, works in the palace or goes on a quest, they will be given boons, or favors. Many take the form of infused tokens.” Lorella glanced up. “We need to hurry. The market will be closed soon.”
I followed her gaze to see that the evening sky had darkened significantly, only a pale lightness in the west remained of the sunset. “And then what happens?”
“Evening dances. If there is a revel, it will begin at sundown.”
I thought about the upcoming revel and grew quiet. That was when Valente would challenge me for a throne I didn’t even want. I was about to ask Lorella for details about what happens during such festivities when she grew still, staring at someone in the crowd of bustling fay.