Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1) Page 2

  Outside, the sound creeping through our open doors and into my consciousness, my neighbors were keening. The baby was gone. I had stopped nothing. All I’d done was occupy the leader for a few minutes and injured Mother in the process.

  “That was brave of you,” whispered Mother.

  I shook my head, my vision distorting as I thought of the baby. Selina would be devastated. So would her parents.

  Mother’s hand wrapped around mine, her grip stronger than I expected. “It’s okay, Bria. I’m fine.”

  I blinked and inhaled a deep breath. She wasn’t fine. Her leg was broken—I didn’t know how she’d stood on it to attack Xion with the knife—she had a gash from her shoulder to her elbow, an open and bloody wound on her opposite bicep, and blood streaming from her nose. But she didn’t seem to be dying, no matter what Xion Starguard had said.

  I could heal those scrapes and bruises. I was good at that and it would give me something to focus on, other than the baby. “I need to make a splint for your leg. Then we’ll get you into bed.” Once she was comfortable, I’d take a lamp into the woods to search for some yellow vine and swamp petal for her other injuries.

  Mother’s head dropped back against the coffee table and she closed her eyes. “Thank you, Bria.”

  The sun was already rising by the time I returned from the woods with the herbs I needed for Mother’s injuries and convinced her to take them. I lay down for a few minutes rest before starting on the chores for the day, which now included putting our cottage to rights after Xion Starguard’s furniture tornado, only to be woken by the pounding of a fist on the door. I dragged myself from my bed, my eyes scratchy, to find Mrs. Plimmer and her young son on the threshold. They lived at the other end of town—the rich end, with the publicans and store owners. We only ever saw them down this way when they needed a healer. “Good morning, madam.” I smiled, knowing it wouldn’t be returned.

  She looked past me into the cottage. “Get Aoife.” Her voice was crisp, and she pronounced Mother’s name O-fee.

  “It’s pronounced Ee-Faa, and my mother is unavailable today. Can I be of assistance?” I used the same haughty tone, too tired to ignore her rudeness the way I usually did. The entire village spoke to me this way. They had all my life. Recalling Mother’s wish that I overlook it, I plastered a smile on my face. She was here for help.

  The woman’s eyes moved between me and the mess our home was in. I pulled the door in behind me to block her view. “What do you mean unavailable? Aoife is never unavailable.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. Mother often took time out for herself, secure in the knowledge that I could look after her patients just as well as she could. It was just that usually she was available to take over should someone as difficult as Mrs. Plimmer call. “I’m afraid she is today.” I glanced at the little boy standing a step behind his mother. There were tear stains on his cheeks and he held his left arm pressed against his chest. “If you’re here about Jonty’s arm, I can help you.” I opened the door for them to come in, wondering if they’d believe the Wild Hunt had made the mess. Though if the town gossip mill was working, they likely already knew.

  Mrs. Plimmer turned on her heel. “No need. Jonty will be seen by a proper healer, not some half breed trying to pretend otherwise.” There were no other healers in Holbeck. Only Mother and me.

  I smiled through gritted teeth, wishing the insult didn’t hurt. I’d heard it so many times I should be used to it. Everyone in Holbeck knew Mother, and most of them remembered Father. No one actually believed I was part fae. They used those horrible words to comment on the deformity I’d had since birth that affected both my ears but not my hearing. The top half of each ear was folded in on itself, halving the length and making hard, fat, ugly rolls of the cartilage. My ears didn’t look fae. But they didn’t look human, either. Mother said people were wary of anything different, and I should be kind and never give them any reason to think I was something I wasn’t.

  I drew in a tight breath. “I’m just as human as you, Mrs. Plimmer. And Mother likely won’t be available to see any patients for a few days, so if you don’t want Jonty in unnecessary pain, bring him inside now.” My words fell on her back as she walked down the front path. She wouldn’t come inside. As she opened the front gate and stepped out onto the street, I called, “I’m available whenever Mother’s busy, Mrs. Plimmer. Come back any time.”

  With a deep sigh, I dumped boiling water into the kitchen sink. In the week since Xion Starguard injured Mother, she’d come down with a fever that wouldn’t break. The wound on her bicep was red and angry in a way I’d never seen before, and no matter which herbs I used, I couldn’t heal the wound or bring down the fever. I’d tried everything, even purchasing a stick of begio root from a passing traveler, which cost more coin than we made in a month, but to no avail. I was almost out of options.

  I eased my hands into the hot water, trying not to think about the wood that needed chopping, or the garden that needed tending, or the fact that in two days, we’d be out of meat and I’d have to go out hunting. Plus, Mother’s patients needed to be seen.

  But ignoring one thing led to thinking about another, and an image of Father flashed through my mind. I tried never to think of him, but since it was the Unseelie King’s hunter’s who’d taken his life, he hadn’t been far from my mind since Xion Starguard rode his mount through our back door.

  The hounds came first that night. Back then, I hadn’t known they were the hounds of the Wild Hunt. I hadn’t even known that the hounds warned us to get inside and lock the doors. Mother knew. She rushed me inside, screaming Father’s name as she ran.

  He was hunting in the woods behind our cottage and not yet home. We thought he must have made a big kill because he was late. He heard our shouts and yelled back, telling us to get inside and hide, that he was almost there. Mother and I crawled into the tiny space beneath the cottage—the dirt cold against my skin—and waited. She wrapped one arm around me and, with a finger to her lips, instructed me not to make a sound.

  I was so scared. All I wanted to do was press my head against Mother’s chest and have her wrap me in the safety of her arms, but terror held me still. I couldn’t even squeeze my eyes shut.

  Father’s running footsteps were fast and heavy against our dirt path. The back door opened, then closed again, and I heard his heavy breathing. I remember letting out my breath and smiling at Mother. And wondering why she didn’t smile back. Father was okay. He’d made it. Metal screeched on metal as he slipped the bolt into place, and I waited for him to lift the hatch hidden beneath the dining table and join us in our hiding place. Once Father was here, nothing would be scary anymore.

  There was a tremendous crash as both the front and back doors shattered at the same moment. Mother and I jumped, and she placed a hand over my mouth in case I screamed. I didn’t. Not because I was brave. Because I was so terrified that any sound I wanted to make died in my throat.

  “Myles Ridgewing!” A loud and otherworldly voice boomed. “We’ve been searching for you.”

  “You’ve got the wrong person.” Father’s voice, though not as loud, was strong and sure. “There’s no one here by that name.”

  I nodded, my blanket of fear lifting a little. It wasn’t Father they were after. Yes, his name was Myles, but our family name was Tremaine. They had the wrong man.

  The intruder made a noise I thought was supposed to be laughter, but sounded nothing like it. “And yet, you’re the one for whom we search.”

  Father’s feet sounded on the wooden floor. Just one single step. I imagined him moving forward, but in hindsight, and after facing Xion from the Wild Hunt, I’m sure he was stepping back. “I’ll not go with you. Not alive, anyway.”

  Another laugh. “Dead it is, then. My instructions are to return you any way possible.”

  Father’s footfall sounded again, another pace back.

  “And Aoife. And—”

  This time, it was Fath
er who laughed. It was as hard as the laughter of the intruder, and a sound I’d never before heard from him. “Aoife died years ago. But I’m sure you know that already.” That was a lie—Mother was still very much alive. “And even if she hadn’t, you have no jurisdiction over either of us.”

  “Perhaps not. But I have orders. And you know I always follow my orders. Come with us.”

  “Never.”

  There was movement in the room above, scraping and crashing like our furniture was being tossed around the room. Wind passed through the gaps in the floorboards and across my face, making me shiver. There was a thud. Then another.

  I shifted, finding a gap in the floorboards to peek through. Father lay curled in a ball on the ground with not one, but five fae, standing in a wide berth around his body.

  I silently urged him to stand and fight back. He was the strongest person I knew. He had to get up.

  With impossibly slow movements, he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. “Take me. Or kill me. Just get it over with.”

  I shook my head. No. Neither of those were options. He should fight. He should do everything he could to stay with us. This wasn’t how Father behaved. He loved us. He’d do anything to be here.

  Mother moved enough to catch my eye. She put her finger to her lips. She was right, of course. If I screamed at Father to fight back, we’d all die.

  There was another thud, and I peeked through the gap to find Father on his knees with his arms up in front of him, palms out, as if that would stop the fae from attacking. None of the men around him moved, but Father’s body convulsed. He fell backward, his head hitting the wooden floor with a horrible cracking sound. As I watched, he blew out a last breath of air.

  I put my hand over my mouth to stop from crying out. Father was dead!

  The leader laughed, like he enjoyed watching the life ebb from Father. “Bring him with us.”

  Footsteps crossed the floor of our cabin, boots echoing on the wood. A fae male, tall and gangly legged, bent and picked up Father’s lifeless body, throwing it over one shoulder. As he bent, I glimpsed long black hair and a skeleton mask. The mask worn by the current leader of the Wild Hunt, Xion Starguard. To this day, I still despised what I thought next. I was only a child, but the way the muscles in his arms flexed mesmerized me. He was unnaturally graceful, his movements fluid in a way I’d never before seen. I couldn’t look away and it made me sick.

  I shook my head, pushing the memories away. When I let them take over like that—and I rarely did—I felt like I was eleven years old again and trapped beneath the cottage. A fine sweat broke out on my skin and anger pulsed through my veins. The Wild Hunt were murderers, but Father should have fought harder. Or fought at all. Then maybe he’d still be here. I’d faced Xion Starguard and lived. He might have too, had he tried.

  I took some deep breaths to calm myself, my hands gripping the kitchen bench so tightly that my knuckles were white. One day, I’d pay the Wild Hunt back for the pain they’d caused my family. But first, I would make Mother well. And to do so, I’d use every weapon at my disposal.

  “Bria?”

  I looked up to find the back door cracked, and Selina’s pale face watching me through the gap. She still looked dazed and broken—a week wasn’t nearly long enough to get over losing the baby brother she’d wished for all her life. I’d apologized a million times, and every time she told me it wasn’t my fault. She could tell me a million times more, and it still wouldn’t ease my guilt. I would never utter another word in song again. I should never have done it that day.

  “Are you all right, Bria? I knocked, but you must not have heard.”

  I sucked down a deep breath and nodded, offering my best friend a smile. The past week had been much worse for her than it had for me, but to fix any of it, I needed her help.

  “Want to come outside with me?” She beckoned with her head.

  “Of course.” I smiled in her direction. We’d been there for each other for the past eleven years. My pile of dishes could wait a little longer.

  I wiped my hands on a towel and followed her out to the twin swings in our shared backyard. Father had hung them from the oak between our cottages not long after Selina moved in when we were both six years old. The same oak I’d tried to hide beneath when the Wild Hunt came a week ago.

  She sat in silence, as she did so often lately, the swing swaying softly around her planted feet, her long auburn hair falling over her shoulders.

  “How are you doing?” I asked, spreading my dress around me as I sat. I needed to work up to asking for her help to save Mother’s life, which felt cruel since she was still dealing with her brother’s death.

  She lifted a shoulder, tears pooling on her lashes. I already knew she didn’t want to talk about herself. She’d come to me for distraction. “How’s Aoife today?” Not that talking about Mother would distract her much.

  I shook my head. “No better.” She was worse than she’d been the day after it happened. Worse than yesterday, even. I took a deep breath, crossing my fingers like a child and hoping I could count on Selina. “I need to go to Faery.”

  Selina’s watery eyes widened. She shook her head. “Bria, no! You can’t.”

  Those who went to Faery most often never returned. The magic of the land made them forget where they came from and made them a perfect target for the High Fae that ruled the magical realm to take them as slaves.

  I took a deep breath. I’d thought of all the reasons not to do this, but I always came back to one thing. I was a human healer—and a beginner, at that. My skills were good, but I was no match for fae magic. If I wanted Mother to live, I had to reach out to those who had other—better—methods of healing. “I have to go. Magic made that wound on her arm, and probably the fever, and the same magic is preventing her from getting better.”

  Selina shook her head again. More slowly this time. She knew me well enough to realize this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. It didn’t mean she wouldn’t attempt to talk me out of it. “True, but at what price?”

  I leaned forward, catching her eye. “Does it matter? What would you give to get Tobias back? What would you give for the Wild Hunt never to have taken him?”

  “Everything. Anything.” Selina let out a deep sigh and ran her hands down her face. “But if Mother’s magic couldn’t keep Tobias safe, what chance do you have against the Unseelie King?”

  Little, probably. And when Selina put it like that, I began to doubt the sense of my plan. Selina’s mother was one-sixteenth fae. Her great-great-grandmother had been fae, sent to live in exile in the human world. The family had no contacts in Faery, and Selina’s mother had only just enough magic to hide her children if the Wild Hunt came calling—at least, she thought she had. Last week had proven otherwise. Selina, to her disappointment, had received none of that magic passed through the family line.

  Still, maybe there was hope. Maybe I had a weapon the Unseelie King would never suspect. “What if the king didn’t recognize me as human?”

  Selina stopped swinging, her eyes narrowing. “You have a plan.” Somehow, she laced both hope and despair into those few words.

  I nodded, twisting the swing to face her. I was almost smiling, relieved to talk about this the plan that had been forming in my mind all week. Hopefully the two of us could iron out any bumps I might not have considered. And there was always the slight chance I might even have time to search for Tobias while I was in Faery. I reached into the pocket of my white apron and pulled out an envelope, passing it to Selina.

  She stared at the thick textured paper a moment before taking it in her hand and running her fingers over the gold embossed letters on the front.

  Briony

  25 Hardbrook Lane

  Holbeck

  The envelope was unopened, but we both knew what it contained. The same envelope had been arriving for years, always five days before All Hallows Eve. It was addressed to the previous owner of our cottage
using only her first name. Briony No-Last-Name had left no forwarding address. Every year, Mother threw the letter in the bin the day it arrived. Every year, I asked her about it and she told me she didn’t know how to forward it on.

  Two years ago, filled with curiosity, I took the letter from the bin and brought it out to the swings beneath the oak where Selina and I sat now, and we opened it together. The card inside had been just as glamorous as the envelope that carried it, with a flowing script embossed in gold.

  By decree of the Unseelie King, you are invited to the

  Masquerade Ball

  All Hallows Eve

  at the Unseelie Court

  Dress Formal

  The Unseelie King’s masquerade ball was the party everyone wanted to go to. The guests were fae from the three Unseelie Courts that he ruled over—Winter, Autumn, and Darkness. Each year, he granted one favor to a person picked at random from his guests on All Hallows Eve. Two years ago, Selina and I had stared at the card with open mouths, before stuffing it back inside the envelope, pushing down the seal and running inside to throw it back into the rubbish bin I’d rescued it from. Neither of us had ever spoken another word about it. Until now, when I was holding this year’s invitation in my hand.

  “But the ball is tonight.” She stared at the unopened envelope between her fingers, her voice uncertain.

  I nodded, trying to look confident. If Selina believed I thought I could do this, there was more chance she’d agree to help.

  “And you will pretend you’re Briony No-Last-Name.” It wasn’t a question. One look at the envelope and Selina knew what I was planning. “He’ll know you’re not her. You don’t even know if you resemble her.” She shook her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. At least she’d forgotten about Tobias for the moment. “This is a bad idea.”

  “Would it still be a bad idea if I could bring Tobias home when I came back?” Low blow, but I really needed her help. There were things only she could offer which would give me a better chance of succeeding.