CHAPTER

3

Let’s go visit Faerie! Wait, I’m not allowed. Let’s do an astral projection spell to Faerie…because that totally won’t get us into trouble.

Heather!

I rolled over, trying to place the “voice” in my dream about riding Ehrwnmyr in a horse show for the Lord and Lady of Faerie. We were just about to finish our dressage round with a pirouette when he stopped. There was a strange padding sound that distracted us. The crowd was dead silent, and Lord Cadmus and Lady Fana narrowed their eyes at me. I’d done something terribly wrong, and I wasn’t sure what.

Swishpitpatswishpitpatswishpitpat!

What was that noise?

Heather!

Tom!

Tom was the fey cat who “lived” in the stables. We’d become friends trying to stop the kelpie, and Tom had brought me to see Sarah Beth in Faerie, where she’d been taken to keep her from getting killed. He could tell me what I’d done wrong…

Except the riding ring was fading as I blinked my eyes open and started to recognize the bedroom I normally shared with Lily—the small rocking chair with my teddy bear on it, the wing chair I sat in, my desk, the window, yellow-green eyes reflecting through a gap in my curtains—

I bolted upright, gasping.

HEATHER!

It was Tom. When he looked like a cat (because sometimes he could look mostly human), he spoke in my head, the way Ermie did. And I could tell he was distraught about something.

Glancing at my sister’s empty bed, half-wishing she were here and not at Jenna’s house, I went over to my window and opened it.

He meowed pitifully at me, balancing on the very edge of my windowsill.

“Well, come in!”

He meowed again. I would. He sneezed in the direction of a line of salt over my sill.

Dad must have come in while I was asleep. I frowned, hesitating half a second because I was obviously defying him by letting a fey cat in, and brushed the salt aside into a neat pile. Tom leapt over my arm and landed on my floor, breaking into a bathing fit around his paws.

What’s that all about?

“My dad. He’s been really nervous about anything fey. He doesn’t want anyone hurt.”

Tom paused in his cleaning to give a hiss towards my bedroom door and then took a few more good licks around his shoulders. When he was done, he walked over to the door, tail waving anxiously.

We must hurry. I didn‘t know this was happening tonight! I think they were trying to keep me from finding out. He looked over his shoulder at me, eyes full of the rare concern cats could show when they wanted. I don‘t think they wanted me to tell you, but you have a right to know as human liaison.

Oh yeah, in dealing with the kelpie, I kind of made myself the liaison for my family and all of humanity—it seems—to Faerie. Or at least the part of it that was on our land. I’m not exactly sure how that works, and they’re not exactly open to telling me.

I started to follow, then paused. “Wait, what? What are we doing?” If nothing else, I had learned to be extremely cautious when dealing with faerie. Even the ones whom I felt were friends.

You need to follow me to a council meeting. Now!

My mouth hung open for a second. “You mean, back to Faerie? To the castle?”

It’s not as far as the castle. One of the wooded sections—they’ve made it neutral ground for all to meet. Come quickly.

My feet didn’t move. Then my mind caught up with itself. “Let me get my parents.”

Tom froze now, eyes turning hard. WHAT?!

If nothing else, that confirmed how bad an idea it might be to do this alone. “I made a big mess of things with the kelpie. I’m not doing this alone again and making another big mess!”

You didn’t make a big mess. You saved your friend, and you even—in a sense—saved the kelpie. You are perfectly capable of attending a council meeting—

“No. I promised my parents that I wouldn’t go off and deal with anything faery-related by myself again. I gave them my word, and I broke it before, and I feel awful. Do you really want to have a friend and liaison who regularly breaks her word?”

Tom swished his tail, growling.

I folded my arms, scowling, hoping I looked somewhat imposing despite my pink, ruffled nightgown.

He looked away first, turning around tightly, tail whipping back and forth. What if we don’t leave the castle? If you stay here, would that be breaking your word? We must hurry if we are to do this! He paused. And if your father is salting the house for the sole purpose of keeping us out, he certainly should not attend this meeting!

I considered. “I’m telling them what happened in the morning.”

Fine, whatever! Where’s that book you use for spells? The one you tried to summon me with before?

“Mum’s office, I think.”

Let’s go there.

We went down to Mum and Dad’s office. I glanced over my shoulder at my parents’ bedroom door and Rowan’s door, feeling guilty. As if that guilt wasn’t bad enough, I got a good picture in my head of Joe when he found out I’d snuck out to Faerie. He’d chided me as badly as my dad had, and made me promise him I wouldn’t do something that thick ever again. Ever!

I wasn’t leaving the castle, though, I told myself. I would definitely tell my parents in the morning. Depending on what Tom wanted to show me, or the nature of the spell, I could even run back upstairs and wake them if I had to.

I kept quiet going down the stairs. I didn’t want to wake the twins, Ivy and Ash, either. Five-year-olds would be difficult to deal with at the moment.

I carefully put Mum’s desk lamp on the floor. No one else would be up at this hour, I thought, but I didn’t want to be interrupted if any of the McInnises, our nanny, or Ginny saw the light on. Mr. McInnis, our groundskeeper, loved this castle as much as my family did, so it wasn’t that unusual for him to walk around the grounds, making sure everything was secure, if he couldn’t sleep.

Fortunately, Isis wasn’t around anywhere, either. When my dad wasn’t doing well, she (and her brother Osiris, who’d been killed when we fought the kelpie) had always slept in my parents’ room. My stomach twisted, remembering it was my fault Osiris had been killed by the kelpie. Isis tolerated the two cats we owned, but who knew what she’d do to a fey cat.

The book Tom wanted was A Wicca Guide to Faerie, and it was well-used. Besides writing fiction about faery-anything, Mum also wrote research articles about folklore, history, magick, and the like. But I knew she’d used spells in here before.

One time, when Rowan had gotten scared by a movie with goblins, she had the family help her with a spell that would keep goblins away from him. It worked really well. So well, in fact, it worked on all faerie, not just goblins. Tom still didn’t like even going near Rowan. After seeing how Dad was with the salt, I counted my blessings he hadn’t made Mum do that spell on all of us!

The book was near the top of a precarious pile between my parents’ desks.

“What am I looking for?” I looked at Tom as I carefully leafed through it.

A projection spell of some sort. I know where we’re supposed to go.

I found a spell for a meditation that was supposed to take me on a walk through Faerie.

That’ll do.

I skimmed the description. “So, I need—”

No time. Just read over the incantation. He paused. And…let me give you a vision of where we need to be.

I frowned. “What exactly does that entail?”

Tom hesitated. You know how you and I speak? It’s like that, only…more.

“So, I need to let you into my head?” My lips tightened even more. It was bad enough Ehrwnmyr seemed to get in and out of my head easily enough. And I knew it was bad to let in any daoine síth, the “Folk of the Hills,” who seemed to be faery nobility.

Yes. He paused, as if sensing my discomfort. You have my word that I will not take advantage of your trust. I still hesitated.

Have I ever broken my word to you or left you in danger when I promised otherwise?

“No,” I said softly, then considered how much danger I could have been in if something had gone wrong when he’d brought me to the faery castle to visit Sarah Beth. Nothing did, but…

Tom paused. I’m letting you in my mind, too. I’m trusting that you won’t go poking around past what I invite you to see.

That made me feel a little better. “I promise. How do we do this?”

He nodded. Let me sit on your lap? It’s easier if we’re touching.

“Um, okay.” I sat cross-legged, and he crawled on my lap. For as big as he looked, he didn’t weigh much. His fur was very long, and I wondered how he kept it so smooth, living in the stables like he did. He circled between my legs and then settled in a curl, front paws draped over my folded shins, shimmying a bit to adjust himself. I was struck with a desire to scritch around his neck, like I’d do with one of our house cats. “Can I, um, pet you?”

That will help, actually. We should both be relaxed.

“Okay.” I carefully arranged myself so as not to put him out of place, and set the open book on the floor. Edging my left hand under his scruff, I started to scratch, while I adjusted the lamp so it shone on the book.

He was already starting to purr by the time I got situated.

Before I could ask him what was next, I felt…like an itch, in the front of my head. Between the cat and holding the book, I couldn’t scratch it. But I couldn’t ignore it. When I turned my full attention on it, I felt it spread into a warmth. I couldn’t focus my eyes, so I closed them. Immediately, all I could see were trees. I somewhat recognized the wooded area, which I knew was on the preserve behind the castle, but it looked different. The trees were bigger. The moss on them was greener. The purple azaleas were so bright they popped. Then, next to me, appeared an image of Tom in his person form— he’d made clear to me that he did not like me referring to that as his human form. And the image was wearing clothes. (I’d found out the hard way that when, in real life, he transforms from cat to person form, clothes don’t magically appear. Bleh! So embarrassing!) He looked about my sister Lily’s age, fourteen, though he’d told me he was seventy-something.

He gave me a half-smile, shiny cat eyes still shimmering and ears pointed at me. “Okay, so, you’re here. Keep this place in mind, open your eyes, and read the incantation.”

I took a deep breath, which was weird because I smelled the office—old books, Dad’s cologne, coffee, tea—and not the woods. That smell made it easier to open my eyes and look at the book.

Still scritching Tom’s neck, I felt really relaxed—there’s just something about a purring, warm cat in your lap that makes you just want to sleep. (It could also have been because it was like midnight or 1 AM, late enough to be pitch dark outside.) In any case, it took me a few blinks to focus on the words in front of me and then make my mouth form them.

Funny thing was, I couldn’t tell you what a single word of that spell was. I’d know it if I looked in the book again. All I can recall is feeling my eyeballs adjust in the dim light, the texture of the words on my tongue, and then a breeze on my arms, ruffling Tom’s fur. Then the smell of the office slowly turned into the earthy, damp, and leafy scent of trees and dirt and stones.

I could feel Tom holding my hand now, and the rough ground beneath my slippered feet. The projected “me” blinked as the forest came into focus.

“With me?” he asked.

“Um.” I had to think about it, wiggling my feet, squeezing his hand, shaking my head so I could feel my braids tapping all the way down my back. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He gave me another smile, but I could feel, in my head, that he was anxious. “Let’s go then.”

I followed Tom through the woods. Every so often, I’d still get a smell of my parents’ office or the sensation of Cat-Tom purring on my lap. It was distracting, but also comforting, reminding me I hadn’t actually left my home.

In my world, there weren’t nearly this many trees in the reserve. It’s mostly sheep fields bordered by ocean and cliffs. There were a few places where my ancestors had planted trees, azaleas, and other flowering bushes not terribly long ago, maybe only a few hundred years. In this world, which I guess was the faery version of mine, or, well, Faerie, itself, I don’t really know. There were way more trees, and they were old trees, of types I didn’t recognize, with spidery leaves and pastel or metallic bark. They were all brighter, too, either almost-glowing or metallic in the moonlight. The moss was more like fur. I wanted to pause and look closer, but Tom hurried me on.

There was a light from between the trees ahead, and I heard what sounded like a mix of murmuring voices and birdsongs, even though it was so late at night. Tom swished his person-sized cat tail anxiously. It smacked me in the thighs.

“Ow!” I growled at him.

“If you kept up, it wouldn’t be a problem,” he growled back, but I saw more than impatience in his eyes. He was worried about something; he didn’t want me to know he was worried, though.

I sighed and picked up my pace. “What should I expect?” I whispered.

Tom’s lip twitched into almost a scowl, but it wasn’t directed at me. He spoke so quietly I had to concentrate. “I don’t know, and I don’t like that. I overheard that they were meeting but an hour or so ago. No one informed me of this, but I could smell how nervous some of the guards, and especially some of Lord Cadmus’s guards, were. They weren’t this anxious, nor trying to hide their anxiety, when the kelpie was being discussed, so I figured this is important.”

“Do you have any guesses?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “As I said, Lord Cadmus’s guards, especially, were concerned.”

I blinked. “And?”

He stopped for a moment and faced me with a glance towards where the flickering light, like a campfire’s, was becoming clearer. He still spoke barely above a whisper. A really exasperated whisper. “Really, Heather, if you’re going to be useful to your family, you need to pick up on subtlety!”

I put my hands on my hips and glared back. “Yeah, subtlety’s never been a huge trait in my family, even if I wasn’t, you know, eleven years old. If we’ve got something to say, we say it.”

“That’s not how the fey courts work, so clearly, if we want to keep good relations between the humans and fey, we should work on this with you.” He matched my stance and glare, though punctuated with an impatient frown in the direction we’d been walking. “So, before we make a mess of things tonight, quick lesson number one. What do you know about Lord Cadmus?”

“Um, he’s creepy and used to be Unseelie, like, a thousand years ago, and then changed courts or something like that?”

Tom furrowed his brow and whooshed his tail even harder. “Close enough, but you’d do well to keep that ‘creepy’ opinion entirely to yourself. So, based on that, if his guards are especially nervous and anxious? What’s your best guess?”

“Oh.” The stupidity I felt was almost painful. “Something Unseelie, who might be related to him, is causing problems?”

“See, I knew you were capable of sentient thought on occasion.” Tom turned back towards the light and started walking again.

I skipped to catch up and avoid being “accidentally” whacked by his lashing tail again. “Wait. One more thing before we get there, please?” He managed to give me an even-more-impatient look, but he paused, arms folded.

“What do I do if they demand to know why I’m there or tell me I’m not supposed to be there?”

Tom blinked. “They won’t. That would be rude. They’ll tell you that they are pleased you were able to come and that they hadn’t expected you. The best thing for you to do is just play along as if you knew you were invited all along.”

I scowled. “So, more or less, lie. Got it. Why do faerie have to be so complicated?”

Tom hmphed at me, though I could see a half-smile even as he turned to go again. “Faerie are no more complicated than humans.”

Thing is, I knew he was probably right. I knew how complicated my own family was, and I liked my family.

As we approached the clearing, before I could quite make out any details, I heard Tom’s voice in my head. Be sure to keep your thoughts guarded at all times. And, for goodness sake, don’t thank anyone! Okay?

What’s with the whole thanking thing? Can you tell me?

Never mind. Later. Just, focus on keeping your thoughts guarded and paying attention to every little detail of what is said. And to me. I’ll try and help as much as I can.

I started to thank him in my mind, but he threw up the mental image of a wall before I finished. He smirked at me and winked just before we passed through the circle of trees and into the clearing.

I gasped upon seeing the crowd of faerie within the clearing. As dumb as it was, my eyes were drawn first to all the sparkling or shiny or bright or otherwise beautiful clothing.

Before I got too close to the crowd, I looked down at my almost-too-small-thanks-to-a-growth-spurt pink nightgown and bit back a curse.

It’s your image, came Tom’s voice in my head. Imagine yourself in something different. Like that dress you were wearing when the queen visited.

You were watching me that day?

Tom didn’t bother to put a response into words. Whatever. It was a good idea. My dad had gotten me the dress last Christmas, and it was too big then, but now it fit. It was a pretty robin’s-egg blue in the underdress, with a filmy, gauzy material of swirling blue and brown flowers with Swarovski crystal accents. It was definitely the most beautiful dress I owned. I also imagined myself in the little bit of lip gloss and mascara Mum had put on me, too, because, well, we were meeting Important Faery People, so why not?

I could feel the material and the make-up on me, and I smiled. That made me feel a little more confident in this meeting. Tom led me to a space not too far from the only two faerie I recognized for sure—Lady Fana and Lord Cadmus. Lady Fana had super-long blonde hair and a smile just about anyone in Hollywood would sell their soul for. She was quite petite, but one look from her huge—definitely-not-human huge—violet eyes let you know she was very dangerous.

It wasn’t quite a glare that she shot me, but her gaze shook me to the core. In response, I curtsied deeply, smiled, and engaged in the game per Tom’s suggestion. “Well met, Lady Fana. It’s a pleasure to be in your presence again.” I didn’t consume fantasy movies, comics, and books for nothing.

Her look softened some, and the slightest hint of genuineness touched her pink, pouty smile. “Well met, Heather MacArthur, human liaison to the MacArthur clan. I hadn’t expected to see you by yourself.”

“Tom made special arrangements so that I could be here to do my duty.”

“And has Tom briefed you on why we are meeting?” Her eyes flicked to the cat fey. I sensed that, if he still had fur on his body, his hackles would be up.

I actually had an answer for this! “Tom thought it would be best I hear everything from you, directly, to ensure the most accuracy.”

Dimly, in the back of my head, I heard a Yes! I did my best not to react.

Lady Fana nodded slightly, and then gave me a once-over. “You are still injured from your capture of the kelpie?” she asked softly.

I hadn’t realized I was rubbing my ribs. One would think since this was all in my head that the walking wouldn’t have made them sore…or maybe they were sore from how I was sitting in my parents’ office. “A little.”

“Would you permit me to heal you, then? As you are here and clearly willing to help, I would hate for you to go through this meeting in pain.”

“Um, I suppose?”

She smiled and did… something…that made her look even more beautiful than usual. I bit my lip, but still kept from looking in her eyes.

“I give you my word that I will do nothing more than heal you. I know it is just your spirit here, but this should still reach your body.”

I nodded at her.

“Give me your hand, then, Heather.”

When she took my hand, I felt warm tingles go from my fingers to my torso, and then they stopped. The slightest frown touched her face. “I have your permission to do this, Heather?”

“Yes,” I said, not liking that “stop” sensation.

Once I said that, I could feel the healing magick again. It was odd, because I could feel the magick acting at the same time in this spirit body, as if it stood firmly on the woodland floor, and in my body-body, sitting in my parents’ office. It felt really weird.

After a moment, she released my hand and turned to Lord Cadmus, who had been speaking quietly to an amber-eyed, owl-faced fey who wore an owl-feathered cape. She touched Cadmus’s arm lightly. Like Lady Fana, Lord Cadmus was more petite than a human, and had pointy elf ears and long hair, though his hair was black and stopped just at his shoulder blades. Also like Lady Fana, he had deep, dangerous, violet eyes, which glanced at Tom and me for a moment. He nodded slightly, then attended to her. “Shall we begin, my love?”

Fana nodded and proceeded to greet everyone else there individually, which took a holy-crap-forever long time. I remembered a few. The owl-looking fey was actually an owl fey representing his owl clan, as well as being Lord Cadmus’s lead guard, and he was called something like “Hoo-ell-winn.” The head of the rabbit clan, Lady Ansa, was a ginger-haired young looking woman with big brown eyes full of mischief and pride and a nose that still wiggled in her person-form, who wore my favorite of all the outfits of the night—a dress/jumpsuit that layered different materials, in greens and browns. Several of the fancier-dressed faerie, including four who looked like daoine síth, were giving Lady Ansa looks, which made me like her even more. There was also another cat fey, a female, with pale blonde hair and possibly a haughtier look than that of the any daoine síth. She just went by “Marquesa.”

You’re not head of the cat fey? I asked Tom, since it seemed either only one person or a couple represented each of the animal-related fey.

No. His tone had a clear “I don’t want to talk about it, and I won’t answer if you ask” message, so I didn’t press.

The daoine síth, three men and one woman, all appeared related in some way to Lord Cadmus and Lady Fana, and they stood opposite us on the rough circle everyone had assembled in. For the life of me, though, I couldn’t remember their names. I wondered if there were magick to that.

Besides the animal fey and the daoine síth, there was an almost-but-not-quite human-looking woman, introduced as “Arooa,” representing the coastal selkies—glowing, face-shaped bubbles with a single unpronounceable name, representing the will-o’-the-wisps; a very short, angular man in a tattered coat, whose name sounded like clanking gears, for the brownies and gnomes; and two whom I recognized— Ehranthal and Melldadnium. The two flower pixies were also opposite me, and hard to make out beyond being tiny sparkling, winged persons, but my youngest sister, Ivy, had told me she and Ash, her twin brother, would speak to them in the really old gardens. I wondered what they thought about Dad’s “Let’s salt the castle!” plan.

After the “ridiculously long greetings” part of the meeting, where I was formally introduced as the human liaison to the MacArthur clan, things got underway. And by “underway,” I mean a whole lot of talking and phrasing that I seriously didn’t understand.

It sucked.

After maybe an hour of conversation among mostly the daoine síth, about the history and tradition of Seelie Stronghold Something and how those of opposing courts had yielded or were forced to yield some-other-thing, I thought my brain might explode. I pictured a secret tunnel, running to Tom, to channel my thoughts so no one else could read them, and shouted a mental Help! to him.

I heard his sigh in the back of my head. Historically, this part of Scotland, even before it was known as “Scotland,” has been held by the Seelie court. Unseelie who pass through must uphold the standing relationship with humans—-play nice, so to speak—or they can incur the wrath of the Seelie Court. There have been some battles, and this court has always won, maintaining their laws.

Okay, that made sense. And I had taken enough politics and social studies classes to suggest, So, the reason they’re bringing up tradition and history and all that is because someone wants to make a change?

Tom didn’t answer me in words, and the feeling of him in my head lessened even more, but I sensed, first, his agreement with my thought, and second, him “pointing” my attention back to the conversation, particularly at Lord Cadmus.

“No, I cannot confirm that my cousin will uphold Seelie law,” he said, his lips a thin line across his face, “but you know what we risk by directly opposing his claim.”

That caused an uproar. Everyone started talking and shouting all at once.

“Enough.” Lady Fana spoke in what sounded like a normal tone, but somehow everyone heard her above all the rowing. Everyone did, in fact, shut it at her word. “We already have an Unseelie that lives on our lands but must bend to the Seelie rule.” She looked at me, and everyone’s eyes followed hers. It was all I could do not to duck behind Tom.

“You’re talking about Ehrwnmyr?” I asked. The kelpie was definitely evil; he’d told me so himself. “He has to do what I say.”

“And you command him to abide by Seelie law.” That wasn’t a question, but her tone made it clear that I should agree.

However, I had rubbish for a clue of what exactly “Seelie law” was, and I had a feeling it was in my best interest to be careful exactly what I agreed to. The tiniest sense of Tom in my head seemed to support that idea, too. “I command him to harm no one, faerie or human.”

More approval from Tom gave me the strength to stand a little straighter.

“And would you command him to do whatever is necessary to protect the Seelie stronghold?” Lord Cadmus fixed me with one of his stares, which gave me yucky goosebumps all over.

I didn’t exactly like the wording on that, either, and everyone was still staring at me. In a part of my brain used to a totally different reality, I remembered having to stand up to Danicia, the ringleader of all the girls who would pick on my best girlfriend, Joli, and me. Or standing in front of the teachers after they broke up a fight I was in, or when I was in the office for fighting to defend my friend and me. I hated the way I felt at those times, but I got through it all.

“I would command him to be protective as necessary, to the extent that was necessary.”

I felt Tom’s approval in my head again, but also a sense of caution. As if I couldn’t guess the caution bit from how Lord Cadmus narrowed his eyes at me. “And how would you define what is necessary and to what extent?”

My heart was hammering all the way up to my throat. I had to swallow several times, words spinning in my head, the hum of ideas from Tom in my head, everything I’d read in my mum’s books on faerie in my head. After I swallowed enough spit so I wouldn’t choke, I put the words together to make a question. “How would you define what you’re asking m-me to command him to do t-to protect the Seelie stronghold?”

Lord Cadmus and Lady Fana looked at each other, then at me. Lady Fana said, “To the extent of being our sworn ally, should our stronghold come under attack from one who would seek to harm all of us, human and faerie.”

“And what does that mean?” I was quite proud of myself for not rolling my eyes at the utter lack of definition that was going on.

“It means you would vow allegiance on behalf of your family to aid us if we go into battle, and in return, we would share our resources to protect you from harm from this same enemy. Are you willing to do so?”

Um, I don’t think so was my first thought, but I was already working to keep my thoughts hidden and avoiding eye contact with, well, any of the daoine síth. They could really mess with your head—way worse than Tom or Ehrwnmyr could—if you looked them in the eye. I didn’t know what else to say, though, and I felt like…pillows were in my brain, keeping me from thinking. Tom’s voice in my head “sounded” too far away to hear clearly anymore.

I glanced back at him, but only sensed him looking at me sidelong. Every muscle was tense, still, even in his tail, which bristled.

And I could feel how hard Lady Fana and Lord Cadmus were staring at me.

This was a very important answer for me to furnish, and it would have a whole lot of weight for both of us. I could feel that, too.

There was no way, no way at all, that I was ready to answer this kind of question.

I took a deep breath and did my best to buy time to talk to people more qualified to answer this—my parents. “Lady Fana, Lord Cadmus.” I made a respectful inclination to each as I said their name. “I’m honored that you’d ask me to strengthen the ties between my family and the faerie, but while I’ve been chosen to be the liaison, I’m still…underage by human standards. I need to consult with my parents on something this important for all of us. Would you permit me the time to do that?”

“Will Lord Calbraith await our answer any further?” asked a sour-voiced daoine síth, a male dressed in myrtle green and summer yellow. “Or will he simply act against us if we do not respond to his request for what he claims to be his entitled lands?”

Lord Cadmus sneered at him. “That would be a poorly played move on his part, to take action out of turn like that…” As much as I wasn’t fond of Lord Cadmus, I couldn’t help but mentally cheer his burn of the other daoine síth, who, for his part, withered just a little. “If he dares do so, we would be assured support from higher courts and,” he glanced at me, “likely our neighbors. Calbraith is Unseelie, hot-headed, and yes, very dangerous, but he is not stupid.”

Soft murmurs broke out among the other fae in the clearing. Lord Cadmus and Lady Fana allowed them to continue for a few moments.

After a glance at his wife, who nodded, Lord Cadmus looked at me and continued, “Go to your parents, tell them everything you’ve seen and heard here, and return to us with your family’s response by tomorrow sundown. Tom can lead you back to us.”

Lady Fana scanned the circle of faerie around us. “We will meet again tomorrow evening and make our decision. Until that time, go in peace to your respective clans, but be prepared if we must defend our lands.”

My heart was still hammering, trying to take in all this information, when I felt Tom take my hand. He nodded for me to follow him. When it was clear to Tom, who could hear better than I, that we were out of earshot, he said, “Well done. For anyone, not just for a human who supposedly finds subtle cues confusing.”

When I saw the smirk on his face, I couldn’t quite muster a glare at him, but I did take my hand away. “Explain something to me…”

“That depends what it is.” The smirk fell off his face, and he eyed me warily.

“I’m not gonna ask about that other cat, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He said nothing, but I saw relief creep over his face. I continued, “If they weren’t expecting I was going to come, why did it seem like they had been, there at the end? That they needed me to be there? I mean, they were including Ermie in their plans.”

Tom frowned. “I noticed that, too, but I haven’t an answer for you.” He sighed. “Had it been something else, I might consider they were trying to catch my interest by hiding things. But my job, my only job, for them is to be a contact for you.” He scowled. I picked up a hint of hurt in his voice and felt him become more guarded, even as he adjusted the topic. “So, I don’t know why they may or may not have wanted you there and what game they are playing with that. Obviously, they want you to swear allegiance so they can use the kelpie, which would be a formidable foe against an Unseelie daoine síth lord.”

I paused, considering. “If I hadn’t been there, would they have found a way to take Ermie and use him anyway?”

Tom thought a moment. “If there were a blatant attack, you’d be pushed into the conflict and not have time to think upon the parameters of joining forces with them.”

“That makes sense, then.” I glared behind us.

“Who was the sweet little human who said faerie were too complicated for her to understand?”

I answered with the only appropriate response I could think of—I stuck my tongue out at the cat fey with a pththt.

He chuckled.

“What’s with them wanting to use Ermie, anyway? I mean, yeah, he’s big and scary, but he eats humans, not faerie, right? And what’s the big deal about this one Unseelie in the first place?”

“First, no Unseelie lord would travel alone. I’m sure he has a contingent with him who would fight. Second, Lord Cadmus is nervous, so he knows what we’re up against, and if he’s nervous, there’s probably good reason for us to be outright frightened. Lastly, a kelpie is a powerful ally against other faerie; they are immune to nearly all fey magick.”

“Ooooh!” That explained a lot. “Why can’t you answer all my questions that simply?”

Tom smirked again and mimicked my plththt. “I’m a cat.”

“You’re a big pain in the butt is what you are.” As we walked, the scenery around me seemed to be blurring, and the ground seemed less solid beneath my feet. I could smell Mum’s coffee and old books more strongly than the earth and trees.

Before the vision disappeared, I saw Tom nod, but I only heard him in my head. As I said, I am a cat.

I looked down in my lap as he stood and stretched his way to the floor, shaking each of his back paws. I picked Mum’s book up and brushed off the stray cat hair that had landed on it.

I’ll come by tomorrow, sundown, and we will move on from there. I felt his sigh more than I saw or heard it as he led me back upstairs. I suppose we’ll have to bring your parents. Hopefully your father can contain himself.

I glared at Tom. Don’t talk like that about my dad! He’s just worried for us, and obviously, after the meeting tonight, he’s got good reason to be!

The cat chuffed a hmph as he padded back to my window, tail swishing impatiently as he waited for me to open it.

Still glaring, because he was refusing to apologize—yes, I knew he was a cat, but still!—I opened the window and watched him balance along the sill until he reached an azalea bush that grew between my window and my parent’s window, where I saw the shaking of branches as he climbed down.

I shivered from the night air, so I closed my window quickly. Seeing the pile of salt I’d brushed aside, I bit my lip, but then re-spread it back along my sill, making sure there were no breaks in the line.