In an unmarked crypt in the most hidden depths of Faerie lay the remains of the greatest warrior known to have existed, the Great Berserker, once a god among the Fae, revered and feared across the realms. Laid to rest with his mythical Red Branch Knights, Cuchulainn was fabled to return when beseeched by a faerie warrior of his equal. Having determined the warrior’s worth, he would once again lead the legendary knights of the Ulster Cycle into battle.
A romantic and noble tale though it was, Cuchulainn himself doubted it would ever come to pass—which would explain the demi-god’s utter astonishment when millennia after being laid to rest, his warrior’s heart once again beat strong against his chest and his Red Branch Knights finally rose from their long, deep slumber.
The months following Mirabella’s death were the hardest in Clover’s young life. Not only had she never lost a friend before, she was also ridden with guilt. “I can take your place,” Mirabella had said when they’d escaped from Alistair in Brooklyn. She hadn’t realized at the time how literal her statement had been. She’d been willing to offer herself up to spare Clover.
The battle in the Otherworld had occurred so suddenly that Clover and many others hadn’t even been aware of it. While she sipped wine and ate pigeon pies at Anna’s, her friend was being offered up as a sacrifice and a war was brewing. When the queen received the message from Lir, she’d wasted no time in mobilizing whomever she could for the strike. Even Meara had no idea her own family and her father’s cavalry had mounted an attack on the Unseelies. Only when the realm was engulfed in a deafening roar did they get their first clue of the magnitude of what had transpired.
Later, Button had recounted everything to her—how she’d spotted Alistair, Iekika, and Mirabella crossing the Ninth Wave, the ensuing battle, and Mirabella’s tragic death. She’d described how even as Scobert’s deafening cry was drowned out by the roar of the portals, his utter anguish had been unmistakable. Soldiers from all sides had laid down their weapons out of respect. In the chaos that followed, the Unseelies collected their dead, went unseen, and made their exits. A handful of Seelie soldiers had sustained non-fatal injuries, including Kean.
Mirabella was laid to rest in the Seelie Court after a beautiful, yet somber service. Seemingly the entire realm had wept for the half-Fae girl who’d lived an unfinished and uncelebrated life spent mostly in the shadows. Those who had the privilege of knowing her, albeit briefly, suffered a more profound grief.
As an act of kindness, Helena had permitted Therese to attend the service, but the woman was so out of it, Clover doubted if she even realized what was happening. So thoroughly under Alistair’s thumb, Therese was akin to a dummy who’d lost its puppeteer. Deprived of constant instruction and tutelage from her captor, Mirabella’s mother seemed incapable of holding a coherent thought in her head. Clover’s heart went out to her. Therese was as much a victim of Alistair’s evildoing as Mirabella was.
Following the burial, everyone had been in a sort of daze—Momma Ruth, Nick, and Andie especially. All of them had basically followed Clover into another realm and now had no way to return to Earth. With Button’s fate as a cautionary tale, all the humans in the faerie realm were on edge. Clover couldn’t blame them. Even though she’d embraced her faerie side and found herself a home in this other world, she still couldn’t say she fully belonged there. Giving up her true home was not something she’d been prepared to do.
On top of the growing anxiety over being stuck in Faerie forever, Clover still had lingering questions about Finn and his involvement with the Unseelies. Had he known of Alistair’s plans to sacrifice Mirabella on Lughnasadh? It dawned on her that she didn’t know which was worse—discovering that Finn had known about it or that he’d done absolutely nothing to prevent it.
Days had turned into weeks and weeks into months, everyone seemingly existing in their own uncertain limbos. Queen Helena had assembled a council of knowledgeable faeries, witches, mages, and warlocks to puzzle through the portal situation affecting the entire realm. Not only were humans prevented passage back to Earth, but a sizeable group of Fae were now also trapped on the other side, separated indefinitely from their homes and families. With tales of betrayal being whispered about and Mirabella’s untimely death still fresh in every body’s mind, the Seelie Court was thrust into very troubling times.
A more somber version though it was, life went on, all of them falling into their own new norms. Scobert spent most of his time in court with the queen, heavily involved in the pursuit of re-opening the portals and the war effort. He rarely visited Mary or Anna, and even when he did, he seemed a shell of his former self. Completely hardened and deadened, it was as if he’d permanently closed off his heart.
Button, although having adjusted somewhat to her new physique, didn’t venture out as much to spend time with Clover and Andie. She mostly kept to the Otherworld, finding comfort and safety with Sinann. On the rare occasions when they did hang out, it seemed their old camaraderie was never quite rekindled. Clover felt responsible for what had happened to her and even though Button assured her nobody was to blame, she felt guilty, nonetheless.
Momma Ruth, ever the survivor, was taking everything in stride. Although the anxiety of never returning home plagued her, she didn’t let it control her life. Her days were spent with Anna and Mary, concocting recipes in the kitchen or out exploring the faerie realm. It seemed the three ladies had learned to lean on each other for support, each of them going through their own personal upheavals, but striving with each new day to carry on.
Nick divided his time between his werewolf friends, training with Kean, and occasionally going out with Meara. Truth to be told, compared to the alternative—which had been prison—her father was living his best life.
Clover couldn’t say the same for herself. Although she treasured every moment with her friends and family, Finn’s alleged betrayal and unexplained disappearance had created an ever-deepening fracture in her troubled heart.
She sensed the same disquiet in Garrett, who was withdrawing into the woods more often and for longer periods of time. Even when he was with Andie and Clover, a faraway look would often cross his face. Clover feared that despite his pledge to Queen Helena and his obvious attachment to Andie, their days with the powerful pooka were numbered. Garrett was a true free spirit; his friendship with Finn seemingly his only anchor to the realm of courts, armies, and civilizations.
Kean, on the other hand, had become a new constant in Clover’s life, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy his company. After the battle in the Otherworld, Kean’s right arm was almost ripped from its socket. While he recuperated from multiple healing sessions, Anna had insisted on having him stay at her house. During that vulnerable time in both their lives, they’d formed a fragile connection that soon morphed into real friendship.
On one brisk, late fall afternoon, Clover and Kean enjoyed a leisurely walk near Anna’s property. Autumn in Faerie was a sight to behold—the entire realm was blanketed in the crisp, vibrant colors that signaled the passing of another season, a harbinger of change; maybe even hope. She marveled at the beautiful sights and took in a breath of fresh, cool air. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she was actually feeling pretty good.
“Are you going to the queen’s dinner?” Kean asked as he caught a falling maple leaf in the palm of his hand.
It was Helena’s birthday, and after a long reprieve from any form of merry-making or celebration, she’d decided to host a small dinner party, a seemingly commonplace gesture that actually spoke volumes; an indication that the queen and perhaps the realm were ready to move on, despite their losses.
Clover shrugged. “I suppose so. Andie’s looking forward to it. She’s never been to the court.”
Kean kept on walking, shooting a sideways glance at Clover. “Is she going with Garrett?”
Clover hadn’t really considered it a date type of event, but now that she’d thought about it, realized she was being obtuse. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
Kean stopped at the top of a sloping mountain ridge and faced Clover, his unruly blond hair catching the sunlight in a way that made it almost sparkle. “Would you like to go with me?”
Clover opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. She had no idea what to say. As much as she’d enjoyed being with Kean, it wasn’t like she wanted to date him. Or at least, she hadn’t really considered it.
“Would a maple leaf do the trick?” Kean asked stone-faced as he extended a leaf in offering.
Not able to help herself, she burst out laughing. Kean always had a way of defusing potentially serious situations, and considering recent events, it was a most valuable talent.
He really looked at her then, his light blue eyes penetrating. “It’s not like I’m asking you to walk the plank here,” he said, then chuckled softly. “Would going out with me really be the most awful thing ever?”
Clover quickly looked away, feeling self-conscious. When her gaze nestled on the valley behind them, she realized with a start that she knew it well—Fall Valley. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed before. Since the rest of the world had also changed colors, her special place now seemed a lot less magical. Her heart twitched in pain as she took in a breath and faced Kean.
“No,” she said, poker-faced.
Kean shifted uncomfortably. “No?”
“No, it wouldn’t be awful at all. Kean, I’d love to.”
Helena held the magical shillelagh in her hand and allowed herself to dream. With her eyes closed and her hand wrapped tightly around the walking stick, once again she fantasized about leaving it all behind. A sound by the entrance to her private quarters broke her reverie.
Scobert cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to disturb you.” He paused awkwardly. “May I?”
“Of course. Come in,” Helena said as she motioned to the settee. She placed the walking stick in a corner, then took a seat.
Scobert sat beside her, looking uncomfortable in his ratty dinner jacket. Helena stifled a laugh; the man hated to dress up.
“What?” Scobert asked.
Helena evened out the lapels on his jacket and smiled. “Nothing. You look particularly refined tonight, that’s all.”
Scobert chuckled, his cheeks turning just a tad pink. “You always were an accomplished liar.”
“Tools of the trade,” Helena said with a resigned shrug.
When Scobert laughed heartily, she realized it was the first time she’d heard the sound in months. His eyes found the shillelagh. “Were you planning on going somewhere?”
She feigned shock. “And miss my dinner party? Not in a million years. In fact, I am told my guests are arriving as we speak. Shall we?” she said as she stood to go.
Scobert reached for her hand. “Wait. Could we stay and talk a moment longer?”
Taken aback by the seriousness in Scobert’s tone, Helena sat back down, her hand still in his. “What’s the matter?”
Scobert inhaled to speak. “I want to apologize for being a surly pain in the neck these past few months. You’ve been more than patient with me.”
“After what you’ve been through, I hardly think that—”
He took both of her hands in his. “Helena, please let me get this apology out before I lose my words.”
She simply nodded, the warmth of his touch fueling an avalanche of bottled-up emotions to stir anew.
“I haven’t been fair to you, yet you’ve never once let me down or left my side−throughout everything. I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate that. Turns out making a complete mess of things is something I’m profoundly good at, but I’d hate to ruin this. I know these are difficult times and that there are harder times ahead. I also know how much you long for a chance at a different life, a normal life. I see it when you look at the shillelagh and even now, I feel it in the quickening of your pulse.”
Helena’s breath hitched in her throat. Still not quite sure what Scobert was getting at, she stayed still, allowing him to finish.
Scobert released her hands and pulled something out of his breast pocket. “I made you something for your birthday.” He held a small ring made of wood, beautifully carved to depict two small hands clasping a crowned heart. “The hands represent friendship, the heart love, and the crown loyalty. The Irish Claddagh ring. I thought it described what you and I have shared through the years. What we still share.”
Helena teared up as he placed the ring on her finger. Friendship, love, and loyalty encapsulated their relationship perfectly. Admiring its intricate design, a thought popped to mind. Most of Scobert’s creations concealed some form of enchantment. “Is it magical?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“Nah,” Scobert said with a slight shake of his head. “The ring contains no magic. Just a promise,” he added sheepishly. “A promise that from this day onward, I will be there for you in any way you will have me, whether it be a friend, a loyal subject, or a partner. If I ever come to deserve it again, I hope to be all three. And if the day should ever come when you’d choose to leave all of this behind, I will follow you to the ends of the earth and back.”
She brought their clasped hands to her lips and planted a soft kiss on his knuckles. Looking into the eyes of her lifelong friend, all her burdens suddenly seemed easier to bear. Through ups and downs, and stops and starts, their partnership had certainly stood the test of time. She looked again at the ring that graced her finger. If what she and Scobert shared wasn’t magical, then she wasn’t sure what was.
The atrium in the Queen’s Court was elegantly decked out with the finest table settings, freshest flowers, and most enchanting twinkling lights seemingly powered by fireflies, if not pixie dust. Looking around her, Clover felt like she was in a dream. Subtle melodies from miniature floating harps wafted through the air, along with the sweet scents of freesia and the smells of baked delicacies. A gathering of about thirty of those closest to Queen Helena socialized and enjoyed cocktails and appetizers, while they waited for the guest of honor. Clover had only been to a handful of formal events in her life; prom at the gymnasium among them, so this one definitely took the cake.
She, Kean, Garrett, and Andie were raiding the cheese buffet when Meara and Nick approached. Her father was dressed elegantly in a three-piece suit, clearly channeling the Great Gatsby, while her mother glowed in a figure-hugging ecru beaded gown. Nick had the look of someone who’d been picked to dance by the most beautiful girl in the room. Seeing her parents dressed to the nines and on a date almost had Clover bawling in a sentimental meltdown.
“You look gorgeous, sweetie,” Nick said as he kissed her cheek.
Suddenly feeling bashful, she silently wished Cordelia hadn’t convinced her to wear the red dress. It was just a little too look at me for her taste. It was made of some kind of shimmering fabric she’d never seen before and was cut pretty short. She’d worn heels, too, completing the sultry look and making her feel like she was at a costume party.
“You two look great together,” she whispered while she hugged her dad.
“Ditto,” Nick replied with a wink and a quick glance in Kean’s direction.
Kean obviously overheard and excused himself to get drinks, looking equal parts pleased and embarrassed.
Clover rolled her eyes. Everybody seemed to be making a big deal of the fact that she’d come to the dinner with Kean. Momma Ruth had shed tears—of joy or remorse, she wasn’t sure—and ordered her to have a good time. Anna had given her a knowing look and said there was no shame in moving on and Kean was a good lad, winning the award for the most awkward words ever spoken by an ex-boyfriend’s mother. Andie had been psyched, but she’d also understood Clover’s apprehension. She’d counselled that it wasn’t about Finn; it was simply about being eighteen and enjoying herself. Only Garrett seemed to have strong opinions about the whole thing, but despite the fact that he’d threatened to rip Kean’s heart out of his chest and feed it to him on a skewer, he’d eventually calmed down. Even now, Garrett and Kean were laughing it up by the bar, no doubt over one of Garrett’s signature wisecracks.
That was one of the most endearing yet slightly infuriating things about Kean. Everybody just loved him. Deep inside, she hoped more people would be up in arms about the fact that she was letting Finn go, but in reality, it seemed she was the only one.
Kean and Garrett returned with drinks, looking like a couple of male models. Briefly, she wondered what she’d been stressing about. A girl could do worse. Garrett put a finger to his lips as he walked toward Andie, who had her back turned. Quiet as a mouse and quick as viper, he crept up behind her and mock-bit her neck, causing Andie to shriek like a banshee and amusing Garrett to no end. She punched him in the gut and brought her lips to his in a slow, passionate kiss, oblivious to everyone.
Now awkward spectators to this fiery little display of affection, Kean and Clover stood quietly side by side like suspects at a lineup.
Kean shrugged. “Hey. I’ll take a happy Garrett over a homicidal one every time. At least he’s not trying to kill me.”
Clover giggled. “Well, there’s that.”
Kean raised his drink in a toast. “To not getting my heart ripped out of my chest.”
Laughing unreservedly, Clover clicked her glass with his. In such a beautiful place, with awesome company, and the promise of an enchanting evening ahead, she’d run out of reasons not to enjoy herself.
Helena arrived, looking resplendent in a simple silver gown. She donned a small tiara on her pale blonde pixie cut and a genuine smile on her face. Anna remarked to Mary and Ruth that she couldn’t recall ever seeing the queen so happy. A glance in Clover’s direction found her sharing a giggle with Kean, their heads bent low. Anna smiled. She would never deny the girl a chance at happiness; the gods knew she deserved it. Seemingly everyone was bent on moving on; if only she had it in her to do the same.
Scobert took the empty seat at their table, breaking Anna’s reverie. He was dressed as elegantly as Anna had ever seen him, which was to say he had a jacket on.
Mary took one look at her son and gushed. “Aren’t you Mr. Dapper!”
Scobert blushed slightly. “Sure—about as dapper as a dime-store dunce.”
“It’s good to see you, son,” Mary replied, turning serious. “You really do look good.”
Anna couldn’t have agreed more. After the past few months of abject sorrow, it really did seem like Scobert had turned a corner. She reached over and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, which Scobert reciprocated. He smiled self-consciously at Anna. Though no words were spoken, Anna could tell he was at peace. When he looked away, his gaze found Helena and suddenly it was clear to Anna that they’d inevitably found their way back to each other again. If she had the queen to thank for putting a smile back on Scobert’s face, then so be it. She was eternally beholden.
Just as dinner was about to be served, Helena stood before her throne on the raised dais, and everybody raised their glasses in a toast. Liz handed her a glass flute of champagne. “Thank you, dear friends,” Helena said as she raised her own glass. She took a sip and addressed her guests again, turning somber. “The Seelie Court has experienced several losses of late and we continue to face obstacles, still.” She paused and scanned the room. “In our grand and extensive history, this is not the first time we’ve seen troubled times. Nor will it be the last. As your queen, I guarantee we’ll see this through. Years from now, these brief, dark times will be but a smudge on the history of our people and of the Seelie Court, and no matter what happens, we will thrive.”
Her statement was greeted by thunderous applause. Helena raised and lowered her hands, drawing the ovation to a close. “The half a millennium I’ve served as your queen and the many victories we’ve shared, big and small, will forever be my greatest of treasures—ones that I will take with me wherever I go, and ultimately to my grave. No greater honor exists than to lead, protect, and serve my people, and I thank you, my friends, and each and every subject in my court for that privilege.” Helena caught her breath and uncharacteristically fidgeted with a ring on her finger. “I think the time for that privilege to pass on to somebody else has come. I have decided to step down at year’s end. Seeing that I have no heirs, according to Seelie Law, I have the right to nominate my successor. If my choice is deemed acceptable by my people, then come January of next year, a new monarch will sit the throne.”
Anna instinctively grabbed Scobert’s hand. “Did you know about this?”
Scobert simply shook his head while a small smile played on his lips, his eyes still trained on Queen Helena.
A hush cut through the crowd like a scythe, Helena’s guests seemingly stunned into silence. She raised her glass again in a toast. “Thank you for coming to my party, and bon appetite!”
“Wow,” Clover said as Kean walked her back to Anna’s house later that evening. “I did not see that coming at all.”
Kean shook his head. “I can’t even imagine having somebody else sit on the throne. It’s always been Queen Helena.”
“Who do you think she’ll pick?” Clover asked.
“Absolutely no idea. I mean, hers are pretty tough shoes to fill. I don’t see anybody being up to the task, to be honest.” Kean shrugged. “I guess I never imagined serving under a different monarch in my lifetime. It never even crossed my mind.”
Clover tried to put herself in Helena’s shoes and guessed at her reasons. “I think it’s romantic. After all, she’s really just a girl who probably wants to live a normal life.” She imagined what her whole life must have been like—always having to put duty before anything else. “I’m happy for her,” she declared before wobbling and almost falling over. High heels and expensive champagne were a dangerous mix.
Kean placed a steadying hand on the small of her back. “You okay?”
“Uh-huh. I’ll be fine,” she assured, delightfully buzzed.
Kean laughed. “Maybe you should take those shoes off.”
“I’d love nothing more,” Clover conceded as she removed the dreadfully uncomfortable things. “Ah. Much better.”
“Did you have a good time?” Kean asked, as he took her hand and resumed walking.
A jolt went through Clover at the feel of Kean’s hand intertwined with hers, not quite sure if it was from delight or self-reproach. Her worries on the verge of a total tailspin, Clover bit her lip and looked away.
“Yes, no, maybe?” Kean teased.
It was admittedly a simple question, and Clover already knew the answer. She felt silly for being so evasive. “Yes. Absolutely. I had a wonderful time.”
“Cool,” Kean replied simply. They walked hand in hand in silence, the luminescent glow from a giant Faerie moon lighting their way, a perfect close to a magical evening. Before she knew it, they were at Anna’s door. She’d decided to crash there instead of heading back beneath the waves. Drunken deep-sea diving didn’t seem like a bright idea.
“Drink a glass of water and eat a banana before going to bed,” Kean said.
“Excuse me?”
“All-natural hangover remedy,” he answered with a smile.
Clover giggled. “Yes, doc.” His hand still in hers, she realized she wasn’t ready to let go just yet.
Kean’s pale-blue eyes were mesmerizing as he leaned in closer. “I want to kiss you so badly,” he breathed, then looked down. “Only if you don’t mind.”
Clover paled as he looked up at him, her heart hammering against her chest. “No.”
Kean straightened, a hurt look in his eyes. “I understand.”
“No. I don’t mind,” she clarified.
A smile formed on Kean’s lips. “Cool,” he said simply, before bringing his mouth down to hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.