Innocent Darkness (18 page)

Truth and Lies

Curled in the corner of the tree house, Noli clutched the medallion from V, feeling the coolness of the stone in the center of the wire design against her palm. Little faeries danced around her, trying to soothe her. They brought her small things: feathers, acorns, and such.

The tree house was cozy, with a chair and small table. It seemed perfect for someone with an earth affinity.

According to Kevighn, the four main kingdoms in the Otherworld each possessed an element. He still hadn’t told her what kingdom they dwelled in or where his talents lay.

Several faeries approached, carrying a large pink star bloom, which they offered to her. Taking it, she inhaled its sweet fragrance and smiled. She’d planted them all around the base of the tree, making the grove smell heavenly. “I appreciate the kind thought.” She couldn’t understand the tiny beings, but they seemed to understand her.

Darkness fell, the mauve sky darkening and the two moons rising in the distance. She wasn’t sure if she should stay until Kevighn came or return to the cabin. Somehow she needed to make him understand that she must return home immediately.

She’d make him come to her. Yes. Returning would be acquiescing. Her stomach rumbled and she foraged for the berries she’d picked earlier and left in a bowl. Sighing heavily, she ate them, absently sharing bites with the little faeries.

Full dark fell upon the grove. Having no candle, the only illumination came from the wood faeries, who cast soft, colored shadows on the wood walls, and the light of the moons through the window. The rustling of branches in a breeze startled her, as did the call of some unfamiliar animal. Perhaps she should go back.

She peered out the window into the stark darkness, the thick branches now hiding the moons. In the wilds no gas lamps illuminated the night. No, she’d get lost the moment she set foot outside the tree.

Her stomach rumbled and the air chilled. She hadn’t thought to bring a blanket here.

“Noli, Noli!” Kevighn’s voice rang through the night.

Much to her chagrin, his voice caused a little tingling feeling deep inside and her anger faded. No. She couldn’t allow him to charm her.

“Noli, please tell me you’re up here?” He stood at the bottom of the tree, a lantern with blue fire in one hand, a worried expression on his face.

He’d come to her. That meant she’d won, right?

Hopefully they’d go home tomorrow. She’d tolerate no more tales.

Several little faeries swarmed him, charging. One pulled on his dark hair.

“Let me pass, please? I only wish to speak with her. Please, call them off,” he called.

“Let him up,” she told the faeries. A moment later, he appeared, setting the lantern and a basket she hadn’t noticed on the table. “What do you want?” She made her voice tart, but she hoped the basket held something to eat. No. She needed to keep her mind on the task at hand.

Brazenly, the tiny faeries poked at the basket, one going as far as to lift the cover, grinning at Kevighn daringly. The faery leaned over too far in curiosity, disappearing under the cloth. When he surfaced, he triumphantly held a berry and presented it to Noli with a mock bow.

“You can keep it, if you’d like.” She laughed. With another bow, he went to devour his prize, but other faeries tried to take it away. “None of that, I’m sure there’s more.” Without looking at Kevighn, she took the basket and set it in her lap, warding off swarming faeries as she made sure everyone got a berry.

“They like you.” Taking the basket from her, Kevighn set things out on the table. “They liked my sister as well.”

“Why would they like me? I’m not one of you.” She watched as some good-natured warfare went on among the faeries as some finished their berries faster than others.

He set some sort of confection shaped like a bird on the table. “They’re wood faeries, and this is their faery tree. Creideamh took care of their tree and them, and they loved her for it, though being wood faeries they’re naturally drawn to those with an affinity for the earth. They now see you as tree-keeper. Even if they didn’t, they’d still love you. Your kind draws them, just as faery trees draw you.”

“Mortals?” Noli tried not to eye the feast on the table—stew, rolls, fruit, more berries …

“Special mortals.” He spooned some stew into a bowl and set it on the table before her. “You’re special.
That
is why I keep you here, to protect you. They may not have understood you in your world, but here, those such as yourself are valued by most, but some might seek to use you for their own devices. I wish to keep you safe.”

“You value hoydens?” She wasn’t special. Special girls were pretty.

“We call it the Spark. It’s that extra something some mortals have. Often it manifests in the arts, many of the great artists—painters, dancers, musicians, poets, writers, and sculptors in your world possess it.” He made himself a bowl.

Noli scrunched her nose. The stew smelled delicious, making her mouth water, but she didn’t reach for it. “I’m not gifted in any of those. Passable, in some, but not gifted.”

He took a bite. “It manifests in other ways—philosophers, scientists, bakers, your great designers and builders. I see it in your ability to fix things and your affinity for plants.”

“My talent is gardening?” She laughed. “Painting might make me more marriageable.”

“My sister’s element was earth,” he teased, yellow eyes sparkling, “don’t mock it. I really did have a sister named Creideamh who loved to garden and paint and hid in this very tree house when scared or angry, though she came here often.”

Noli looked away. “I shouldn’t have said that. Though, I don’t regret the other things.”

“I know you’re frustrated … ”

Scrunching her nose, she thought about what he’d just told her. “—Does sewing count?”

“What?” He handed her the bowl in front of her. “Eat.”

She took the bowl, but didn’t take a bite. Yet. “Sewing. Does it count as a gift?”

He pondered that for a moment. “I should think the Spark could manifest in sewing.”

“My mama sews amazing dresses. Could she have the Spark? Maybe I inherited it from her.” Noli took a bite of stew, savoring the complexity of the textures and flavors. “I suppose. Her dresses are lovely?” Scraping the last of the stew out of the bowl, he mopped up the remainder with a roll.

“Better than anyone else.” Even better than the dresses he brought her, both his sister’s and from wherever else he got things. Where did he get things? They probably had shops in the Otherworld. “I’m frustrated.” She brought the conversation back on track between hungry bites. “Los Angeles is my home. I miss my mother. Most importantly, after Papa disappeared my brother left to make his way in the world. I can’t disappear, too. It would devastate her.”

Kevighn nodded thoughtfully, finishing his roll. “Then why did she send you to that dreadful place? Crashing a flying car isn’t that bad.”

Noli looked away. “Because I’m a disobedient, willful, hoyden.”

“Who told you that? Your mother?”

“Of course not.” Putting the empty bowl on the table, she reached for one of the firm, green fruits, with sweet, pink flesh reminding her of a cross between figs and plums.

“But she sent you there.”

She bristled. “Mama had no choice. I told you that. Unfortunately, women still don’t have the choices men do.”

“You are none of those. I told you, they don’t understand you.” Kevighn touched her face, forcing her to look at him.

“And you do?” Her belly fluttered at his touch.

“Yes.”

Their faces hovered so close she could imagine him kissing her. But the face she pictured in her mind’s eye wasn’t Kevighn’s. It was V’s.

She shook her head, trying to shake the strange feelings away.

Kevighn misunderstood her gesture, pulling her close. “You’re safe here.”

The crack of the whip reverberated through her memory, making her flinched.

“What did they do to you?” He toyed with her hair like V often did.

“They … they beat us. Starved us. Gave us terrible punishments and treatments.” For a moment she struggled to breathe, recalling the water room.

“They did what?” He pulled her closer to him.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s how they fix us, turning us into the vapid, insipid piles of mush that pass for society ladies.”

“I never did like society ladies.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Instead you consort with fancy women and steal zeppelins?”

“Perhaps.” He chuckled. Kevighn twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. “I can’t believe they hurt you. It seems like they sought to beat the Spark right out of you.”

“Did we all have the Spark?” They weren’t hysterical, willful, or moody, just Sparky?

“I didn’t see many of you, but your redheaded friend had it.”

Charlotte. The forgotten piece of fruit in her hand fell to the floor with a soft thud. How badly had her uncle hurt her? “I miss Charlotte.”

“I know you desire to return home. Who can blame a girl for wanting to be with her mother—especially if she didn’t willingly send you to such a place?” Kevighn’s voice soothed as he continued to hold her close. “I promise no one will ever beat you here. You’ll be honored and treasured beyond your wildest dreams.”

“I just want to go home. If you can’t help me, please take me to someone who can.”

Kevighn sighed. Something about his expression, his posture, seemed apprehensive. “Selfishly, I wish to keep you to myself. There is someone who has the knowledge you seek. I’m unsure if she’ll help, she can be … difficult, but I’ll take you to her if you desire.”

“I’d like that very much.” Finally, progress. By supper tomorrow, she’d be home.

Wanting

Steven stood in the doorway of the library, hovering, too afraid to go inside, but unwilling to leave. Quinn might have the answers he needed. He only looked young. Once, Quinn had been a noted scholar.

Quinn sat curled in a leather armchair by the unlit hearth. Finally, he looked up from his tome. “Are you going to stand there all evening?”

“Perhaps.”

“Sit.” 

Sitting up, Quinn put down the old book. “What’s been bothering you?”

Entering the library, Steven slumped into a facing chair. He loved this place, so cozy and full of books. “What makes you think something’s bothering me?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Because I know you.” “Good help is so hard to find.” He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated gesture.

The silver-haired man chuckled. Quinn was hardly the help. “Hmm, let me see. You spend all your time either brooding in your room, outside brooding, or at Mrs. Braddock’s working while you brood. I’ve also caught you reading some very odd spell books.”

“There are no off-limits books in this house,” he snapped. But he’d been looking for things beyond the usual, things that might raise eyebrows if he asked.

Like how to dream-search.

“True. Does it have to do with Magnolia?”

“How did you … ” He shook his head. “I know, you know me.”

“Also true. I’ve observed that you’re coming into some rather remarkable abilities. I’ve noticed you’re extraordinarily worried about the state of the magic. I’m aware that you fear the queen’s huntsman has Magnolia.” Quinn met his gaze. “I also know how you feel about her. Don’t worry; your father hasn’t noticed any of these things.”

He sucked in a breath. “You know what she is? I didn’t realize you could do that.”

“Not the way you do. I don’t have that gift, Bright Lady bless.” Quinn frowned in concern. “If Queen Tiana knows, she’ll call for your help. She’s already sending out others, since Kevighn’s gone missing with whoever he found on midsummer.”

Missing?

“She’d like it if I became one of her men,” Steven muttered, not hiding his bitterness.

“You know she would.”

A request from the high queen was a command. She’d find great pleasure in forcing him to do her bidding— mostly because it would infuriate his father.

“I won’t do it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. She was the reason they were in exile. She was the reason his father became a mess, a king without a kingdom.

Most of all, she took away their mother.

“She could make you; after all, she is the high queen. Our queen.” Quinn’s tone remained emotionless.

“She won’t.” He knew she’d try, but if it came down to it, she wouldn’t. But the price would be painful; she’d ensure it.

“Why
are
you lurking in doorways instead of moping in a tree or something?” Quinn shot him a pointed look.

Steven fiddled with his replacement sigil. “Noli has my sigil. Can I use it to find her?”

“Yes. In theory she could also find you—or anyone in your family wearing a corresponding one.” Quinn held his gaze. “That is why they are rare and protected.”

And enchanted. Steven had a feeling Quinn gave him his, so his father wouldn’t ask why he needed a replacement.

“Um.” He fidgeted in his seat. “Could you show me how?”

“Of course. It’s relatively easy. You hold it, speak the word of power associated with it, and think of her. It’ll act as a compass of sorts. But it doesn’t work well in this world,” Quinn warned. “Too much interference.”

He wasn’t going to track her in the mortal realm anyway. “Can I … ” Steven bit his lip, looking away. “Can I feel her? I think I do. Last night she seemed so sad … and once, not long after midsummer, I felt pain in my arm, and a deep sense of shock and hurt that wasn’t mine.”

That night he’d attempted to dream search for the first time. He felt other things, too, especially after his various failed attempts. They might be tied together. Last night the magic also seemed to shift ever so slightly, but to what end he didn’t know.

“Bright Lady bless.” Quinn sat ramrod straight in his chair, visibly startled.

Steven tried not to squirm in his seat. “We’re not supposed to?”

“You’re
not supposed to.” His eyes narrowed.

Oops. Not impossible then. Good. “Oh. Why?”

Quinn rubbed his temples, for a moment looking
tired.
“What possessed you to give it to her in the first place?”