Fairy Lies (6 page)

Tamisin’s heartbeat quickened and her breath caught in her throat. She ducked out of sight long enough to comb her hair with her fingers and straighten her rumpled shift. “I’ll be right down,” she called as she opened her wings. Noticing Dasras’s admiring gaze as she fluttered to the ground, she blushed, suddenly self-conscious.

“You have beautiful wings,” he told her, his gaze as warm as a caress.

“Thank you for saying so,” she said, feeling her face flush even redder. Twitching the muscles in her back, she folded her wings and tucked them into the creases between her shoulder blades, aware that Dasras was watching. She’d put them away in front of her parents and . . . someone else she couldn’t quite remember, but no one had ever watched her with such intensity before. “And thank you for the apple,” she added, taking it from his outstretched hand. Their fingers touched for an instant, and an electric tingle traveled through her arm.

Tamisin glanced up and their eyes met. She swayed toward him, as if drawn by an invisible string, then blinked, shook her head, and stepped back.
What was she doing?
she wondered. She’d just met Dasras the day before!

Dasras smiled and her heart seemed to flutter. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Tamisin nodded. “I did, although I had the strangest dreams. I dreamed that . . .” A sudden sharp pain in her foot made her wince and look down. She had shifted her feet when she was talking and stepped on a stone. Although many of the fairies had bare feet, Tamisin didn’t think she would be able to walk very far that way.

“Do you know where I can get some shoes?” she asked Dasras, gingerly setting her foot on a patch of bare ground.

“We’ll go see the cobbler,” said Dasras. “He’s only a brownie, but he’s very good at his trade.”

The look Dasras gave her made Tamisin’s cheeks flush again, and she turned away, not sure what to think. He was very attractive and she had the strangest feeling that he was the one for her, but she didn’t know why she would feel so strongly so quickly. After all, it hadn’t been until she’d gotten to know . . . Tamisin frowned. She was sure that she used to be crazy about someone, but she couldn’t remember whom.

“Aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” Dasras asked.

“Of course,” she said, and glanced down at the fruit in her hand. Humans had to eat more than just fruit, didn’t they? But if both of her parents were fairies, then she was a fairy, too. Tamisin shrugged and took a big bite of the apple. She was just used to eating more; she’d be fine once she’d been there some time.

“Is something wrong?” Dasras asked.

He looked worried about her, which Tamisin thought
was sweet. She gave him her brightest smile and said, “Not at all.”

“We should go see the cobbler now. I have a long list of places I want to show you, but you won’t get far if you’re used to wearing shoes.”

Tamisin’s eyes lit up. “Is he down by the shore? I’d like to see the ocean again.”

“Brownies don’t go to the shore,” said Dasras with a wave of his hand. “They live on the other side of the briars with the rest of the servants. That’s where we’re going now. It’s just down the hill from the glade where you talked to Oberon yesterday.”

“The brownies are servants?” she said, joining him as he began to walk.

“Of course.” Dasras gave her a quizzical look. “They aren’t fairies, are they?”

“You mean they’re servants simply because they aren’t fairies?”

“Fairies are the highest class of the fey. Anyone else should be honored to serve them. I know all this is new to you, but everyone . . . Oh, look. There’s Buttercup. Let me introduce you.”

Buttercup had bouncy blond curls and wore a short dress made of yellow flower petals. Pale green slippers with curved toes covered her tiny feet, and tights the same shade of green covered her legs. She was carrying a woven basket filled with buttercups and seemed to be in a hurry. When Dasras called to her, she turned, her curls bobbing around her shoulders, her blue eyes wide in surprise.

“Dasras! How are you today? And is this the princess? Imagine meeting you here!” Buttercup giggled. “I’m taking these buttercups to Narlayna. I picked them this morning after the dew settled. They’re still wet. See!” Plucking a handful of blossoms from the basket, she shook them in Tamisin’s face, showering her with droplets. “My gown is about to wilt and Narlayna is making me a new one. Don’t you just hate it when your gown wilts? It looks so bad, and everyone thinks you can’t take care of your flowers if the petals you’re actually wearing dry out.”

“Uh, sure,” said Tamisin. “That would be awful.” It occurred to her that she really didn’t know much about being a fairy. She certainly didn’t know anything about wilting clothes.

“Oh, dear. Would you look at the time!” Buttercup said, peering through the branches at the sun. “I’m running late. I should have inspected two meadows by now. See you later!” The fairy ran off, leaving a trail of buttercups behind her.

“She seemed . . . nice,” said Tamisin.

“I thought you would like her,” said Dasras.

They were approaching a stream when a tall, orange-haired fairy wearing an orange gown dotted with black stepped between two thickets. Her expression was sour, and she didn’t seem nearly as lighthearted.

“Hello, Lily,” Dasras said without much enthusiasm.

“Dasras,” she said, acknowledging him with a curt nod. She glanced at Tamisin, and for a fraction of a second Tamisin thought she saw a flash of contempt in the fairy’s
eyes. “Princess,” said Lily before turning back to Dasras. “Are you going to the other side of the briars?”

The blue boy nodded. “We’re on our way to see Malcolm about shoes for the princess.”

“If you’re going there anyway, you can take these to Narlayna,” Lily said, holding up a small bouquet of orange tiger lilies. “Tell her to drop whatever she’s doing and start this right away. I need a new cap by tonight. I’ve been away, and my old cap was ruined in a thunderstorm.”

“Actually, we—” Dasras began.

“Lily!” called a voice, and a male fairy appeared behind her. “What’s taking so long? You know we have to . . . Well, well, what have we here?”

“Dasras seems to be giving the princess a tour,” Lily said in a tone that implied she had just tasted something bad. “They’re taking my flowers to Narlayna.”

“We never said—” Dasras began.

“The princess! We’ve heard so much about you!” The male fairy snatched the pointed green cap from his head and flourished it even as he bowed. “My friends have neglected to introduce me, so I’ll gladly claim the task. I’m Hawthorne,” he said, grinning up at Tamisin.

Lily thrust her bouquet at Dasras. “Here! We have to go.”

Dasras fumbled and nearly dropped the bouquet. Lily gave him a scornful glance before returning back through the thicket.

Tamisin watched until all she could see of the fairies
was the tip of Hawthorne’s cap bobbing above the greenery. “What was that all about?” she asked.

“Shh!” Dasras said softly, holding his finger in front of his lips.

“So,” they could hear Lily saying to Hawthorne, “what did you think of her?”

“She’s a bit chunky for a fairy, but who am I to say who’s a full-blood these days?” said Hawthorne. “There’s no denying she’s Titania’s brat, but as for the rest . . .”

“Oberon will believe what he wants to believe, and there’s nothing you or I can say to change that,” Lily said, her voice dwindling with distance. “Once he learned that Titania had a daughter, he was convinced that the girl was his child.”

Hawthorne’s reply was too faint to make out. Tamisin turned to Dasras, who was glaring at the lilies in his hand. “Why do I get the feeling that she doesn’t like me?” she asked. “We’ve never even met before.”

Dasras shrugged. “A lot of the fairies in Oberon’s court don’t think you belong here. Some don’t believe that you’re really his daughter; others think you might be, but that you’ve aligned yourself with Titania and have come here to spy for her. Fairies are a very distrustful lot, even of their own kind.”

“At least they aren’t all as rude as Lily.”

“I’d like to say that Lily is the worst of them, but she isn’t. At least she’s open about the way she feels. Fairies like Hawthorne, on the other hand, will be nice to your
face, then stab you in the back if they get a chance. Ah, here we are,” Dasras said as he stopped at the edge of a stream. “Let me help you.”

Tamisin took his hand and followed him across the water, setting her feet on the large, flat stones that made a path from one side to the other. His hand felt cool and dry, so unlike another hand she remembered holding. That other hand had warmed her own and felt so right that for a time she’d held it as often as she could. And the owner of the hand . . . If only she could remember!

When she looked up, Tamisin saw that they were in a large, well-kept meadow. A tall, thin nymph dressed in fluttering leaves tended to the aspen trees growing alongside the stream. Fairies sat in groups among the wildflowers, talking among themselves until Dasras and Tamisin came close. The fairies grew silent then, and Tamisin could feel their eyes on her as she passed by.

In the center of the meadow, small flower fairies were playing with a dandelion puff, tossing it back and forth between them so deftly that it maintained its fluffy shape no matter how hard they hit it. Dasras and Tamisin skirted the little group, heading for a massive hedge that defined the back of the meadow. As they drew closer, Tamisin saw that it was made completely of briars and was so tall that she couldn’t have reached the top even if she’d stood on tiptoe. The wall looked impenetrable from a distance, but Dasras led her directly to a narrow gap in the briars that she didn’t see until she was close enough to touch the prickly plants.

“The servants live on the other side of this hedge,” Dasras said, stepping into the gap. “Some of them do their work there, and the others have to go back after their work is completed in the fairy side of the forest. There’s a curfew at night; they can get in real trouble if they aren’t on their side after the curfew.”

The hedge was about ten feet thick. Here and there Tamisin could see scraps of fabric and broken twigs where passersby had been unable to avoid the thorns. “Why didn’t we fly over this?” she asked, pushing aside a twig.

Dasras glanced back at her. “You could have, but I don’t have wings,” he said as if it wasn’t important. There was an almost imperceptible catch in his voice, however, and suddenly Tamisin understood why he’d looked at her wings the way he had earlier that morning. He hadn’t been admiring them as much as wishing he had some of his own.

It hadn’t occurred to her that he wasn’t a fairy. He was blue, which meant that he wasn’t a human, so she’d just assumed that he was a fairy, too. “I didn’t mean . . .”

“Narlayna’s cave is just through those trees,” he said as she stepped out of the briars.

Tamisin stopped to look around, surprised at the differences between this forest and the one on the fairies’ side. The other forest had been well groomed, whereas this one had been left in its natural state. Trees grew closer together here, their branches interlaced as they competed for sunlight. Ferns peeped between broken branches that lay uncollected on the ground. Vines grew up the trunks,
wrapping themselves around the branches and weighing down the smaller ones. Instead of smelling like masses of flowers, this forest smelled of damp earth and old tree trunks crumbling into decay on the forest floor. It was wild. It was messy. It was exactly the way a forest should be.

“We’ll drop Lily’s flowers off with Narlayna first,” Dasras explained, “then go see Malcolm about your shoes. Don’t be afraid when you see Narlayna. She’s an ogress, but she won’t hurt you.”

“I’ve met ogresses before,” said Tamisin. “There are some at Titania’s court.”

“Hunh” was all Dasras said, but from the look he gave her, Tamisin had the feeling that he didn’t want to hear about the fairy queen or her court.

Although the paths weren’t lined with smooth pebbles or soft moss as on the other side, enough people had passed through the forest that they had trodden well-defined paths into the forest floor. Tamisin followed Dasras down one such path through a grove of pine trees to a cave set in the side of a hill.

Two large pine trees guarded the path to Narlayna’s cave, and they had to go around them to see into the entrance itself. The tall trees cast wide shadows, but just beyond the cool shade the front of the cave was bathed in sunlight, making a cozy spot for the ogress to do her work. They found Narlayna sitting on a stump, her hands flying as she plucked cherry blossoms from a basket to assemble a delicate skirt that looked like flowers floating on a breeze.

Narlayna rubbed her nose with the back of her fingers before raising her head, revealing red eyes and puffy lids. Tamisin thought that she wasn’t the least bit frightening. The ogress had brown shoulder-length hair that was blond at the ends, and dark brown eyes that might have looked friendly if she hadn’t been so obviously upset. She did have one eyebrow that extended over both eyes, and a few long hairs sprouting from a mole on her cheek, but they weren’t anything a good pair of tweezers couldn’t fix. If the ogress hadn’t been one and a half times the size of a human woman, she might have looked like someone Tamisin could have run across at the mall.

“Lily wants you to make these into a cap for her. She says you’re to drop everything and have it ready by tonight,” said Dasras, tossing the flowers onto the ogress’s lap.

Narlayna’s gaze grew hard and cold. “She says that, does she?” she snarled. “Well, you tell her that I’ll get to it in my own sweet time! I have two dozen orders before hers, and everyone says theirs is important.”

Dasras looked horrified. “I’m not telling her that!”

The ogress sighed. “ ’Course you aren’t. Though it’s about time someone did. I’ll get to the cap when I can. Just tell her . . . Never mind. No need to tell her anything. She’ll get it when she gets it, that’s all.”

Dasras stomped away, his back rigid with anger, but Tamisin lingered behind. She felt as if she should apologize for Dasras’s rude behavior, and for the unthinking demands of the fairy, and for the way they both seemed to treat the ogress. But she didn’t know how to begin, so when
Narlayna looked up and snapped, “What do you want?” Tamisin said, “I just wanted to say that you do lovely work,” and ran off.