The Girl Who Never Was (15 page)

'What happens if you don't?'

'What always happens in the Otherworld when you do something the Seelies don't like?'

'Not good things?'I guess.

'One way of putting it,'agrees Safford. 'You came here by Green Line train.'

'Yes,'I say. 'Doesn't everyone?'

'Not many people crossing worlds these days. The borders are closed, you know.'

He is looking at me very sharply, studying me, and I don't want him to ask what's so special about me; I don't want to get into half-ogreness and fay-of-the-autumnalequinox- ness.

'Is it going to be a problem that I don't have any'fusel?'I blurt out to keep Safford from asking anything more about

my journey from the Thisworld. I wonder if any of the items

in my kangaroo pocket can qualify as fusel.

'Fusel?'he echoes blankly.

'That little girl asked me for seventeen fusel.'I indicate vaguely where I'd had the conversation with the little girl, who is no longer in sight.

'Oh,'says Safford. 'Dark hair, lots of bows?'

I nod.

'She's just an extortionist, that one. You can't blame her though. Her parents were named when she was just a little girl. That left her and her little brother, who's a tiny little thing, not much talent of his own. She's devoted to him, and it's up to her to keep food in their mouths.'Safford shrugs.

Now I feel terrible about not having any fusel to give to the little girl. 'What did her parents do?'I ask.

'Oh, you know.'Safford makes a vague gesture. 'A little bit of this, a little bit of that.'

'No, I mean to get named.'

Safford looks at me. 'You ask that as if there's a reason for being named.'

'There'Oh''I trail off stupidly, absorbing that. I guess I had been thinking that there would be a reason for being named, like Ben was in danger of it because he had helped me. And I was in danger of it because I was me. But I guess there doesn't have to be a reason; I guess it could just be something that'happens, like a car accident or a plane crash.

'Like me,'Safford continues, 'forced constantly to either ferry

faeries across to their namings or to provide my name to faeries who won't be named and can then use it against me. And what have I done? I have no idea. One day they just'came and got me and brought me here. I don't know. I guess what I did was exist.'He looks so bitter, and so extremely sad, that I shudder.

And at that moment, the hot air balloon lifts into the air and out over the canyon.

'Lovely view, isn't it?'says Safford dully.

I look at the ground a dizzying distance below me and silently disagree with him'strongly. I've never thought of myself as being afraid of heights, but I guess now I know that I should never go skydiving. Nice to know these things; self- discovery is good.

Feeling giddy and thinking maybe I'm on the verge of hysterics, I turn away from the lovely view and sink to the floor of the basket. 'This is my first time in one of these,'I say, trying to explain my sudden weak insanity.

'Really?'Safford looks shocked.

The basket is rocking gently as we waft over the canyon, and I wish it would stop swaying. I can't tell if the thing is actually making me motion sick or if finally the prospect of what I'm doing is making me nauseated. 'We don't really travel by these where I come from,'I tell him.

'What's it like, in that world?'He sounds genuinely curious.

'I don't know,'I say helplessly. I can't think of how to describe home. I am coming up utterly devoid of words. 'It doesn't have many hot air balloons.'

'I've always wanted to see it. I always wanted to be a traveler, bouncing between the worlds like that.'

I think of Ben, my dizzy nausea receding suddenly. I should have thought of this so much earlier. 'Did you ferry Ben across? Benedict Le Fay,'I clarify.

'No, he didn't come by Green Line train.'Safford's eyes are hooded and dark, and the tone of his voice matches them.

Bad topic, I think. Never mind. 'Lovely day,'I say like an idiot.

Safford looks at me and smiles sadly.

I swallow thickly and think that this might be the last normal conversation I have for a while, so I should maybe make the most of it. 'So you'll take me right to Tir na nOg?'

'Yes,'he responds. 'When we land, we'll be at the fortress where the Court receives its guests.'

'And the prison?'

'And the prison. And then, beyond that, is the Isle of Apples.'

'And what's that?'

'Oh, no one knows that. No one but the Seelies themselves.'

'Well, it sounds like an island of apple orchards,'I suggest feebly.

'Do you think so?'muses Safford. 'Huh.'

He does not look as if he is teasing me. I wonder if the words isle and apples mean something different in the Otherworld or if it's just that nothing makes much sense here.

The balloon lands gently on a patch of dead grass. In front of me, rising up to the sky, is an impossibly huge expanse of cliff face with regular windows carved into it. It is the least

welcoming thing I have ever seen. And everything is utterly silent and lifeless. Nothing moves.

Safford breaks the silence, making me jump. 'Here we are,'he announces needlessly. 'And now, your name, if you please.'

I look at him, feeling vaguely panicked by the idea. I have already internalized the Otherworld idea that my name should be a precious secret.

'It's required,'he informs me, not unkindly.

'Selkie,'I say.

He shakes his head. 'Not enough.'

'Selkie Stewart,'I respond.

He smiles at me almost pityingly. 'You can try to hide your full name. You'll never succeed. They'll pull it out of you. Anyway.'He clears his throat and raises his voice. 'Selkie Stewart,'he shouts to the cliff face, and it echoes back at us, up and down the canyon.

Nothing happens. I push my hands into my pocket and try not to shiver uncontrollably.

'That's it then. It was truly an honor to meet you.'

I look at the cliff face for a moment longer.

'You've got to get out of the basket now,'he prompts me. 'There isn't any going back, you know.'

'Oh.'I hadn't even realized I was still in the basket. I scramble my way out of it, trying to look dignified while I do it.

'See you,'Safford says to me. 'Maybe. I hope.'He looks

like he's about to say more, then seems to change his mind with a brisk little shake of his head.

The hot air balloon lifts up. I watch it dip and bob its way into the air over the canyon, and I wonder where it's going, and then there is a noise behind me, bolts being thrown, locks being unlocked.

I turn back to the cliff face, realizing that the bottom of it contains a pair of enormous doors. They are carved directly into the rock, and they swing open to reveal an entourage of strangely shaped creatures: some are tall, some are short, some are round, some are long, some walk on two legs, and some walk on four legs, but they are all covered in so much gleaming copper armor that I cannot even begin to guess at what they might be under all of that. Each of them has small, chiming bells lining its armor'they chime with every step they take.

Then the entourage parts, forming two lines. They all regard me, a few of them snuffling and snorting and some pawing the ground. I wonder what I am supposed to do and venture a step forward. Nobody makes a move to stop me, so I assume that this is permitted. I keep walking, gaining speed and confidence with each step. Nothing, so far, is happening. I realize at that moment that I expected Seelies to descend upon me immediately, furiously attempting to kill me. Or hug me. Or something, at least. Anything.

The rock doors slam shut behind me, not even waiting for my entourage to follow me in. It is very dark with them

closed, and I can feel some dust tumble from the ceiling at the force of their slamming. I wonder if this cliff face structure is safe. Of all the things to worry about, I am worried that an enchanted prison might collapse in on me.

I move forward hesitantly, hands out in front of me so that I don't bump into anything. It is terrifying not to be able to see. I could encounter anything. Anything could encounter me. I feel a panic rising within me, and I fight it down. It takes me six steps'I am counting, in case I need to find my way to the doors again quickly, although I doubt they will open for me'and then I cross a threshold I cannot see, and there is bright, fierce sunshine. I have never thought sunshine could be angry before, but this sunshine is.

I am in something that could be either a garden or a great hall. The floor beneath my feet is marble, but lush plants seem to be sprouting from it. There are gilded walls, but there is no ceiling, instead just the furious sunshine, so bright that the sky is washed white with it and I can barely keep my eyes open. There are fountains, water splashing through them, catching the light, reflecting it in such a way that it is painful to look in their direction.

I want to stop to get my bearings, but I feel I am being watched, so I keep moving instead, with the idea in my head that it is important to convey an aura of confidence. I continue to walk, my sneakers squeaking against the marble. The huge green leaves of the plants on either side of me brush against my face, tickling my cheeks.

I am slowly growing used to the brightness of the light, enough so that I can tell that I am approaching the end of the garden room, whatever it is. A large number of things shaped like people are waiting there, all of them looking at me. They grow more distinct as I reach them. They are taller than regular humans, slender and lithe, with a grace that strikes me as lethal. If you encountered them, you might call them beautiful'just before they slit your throat. Their coloring is so washed-out as to be practically nonexistent. They look so pale they could be dead, their eyes seem disconcertingly colorless, and their hair is white, bright, gleaming. I draw to a slow halt in front of them.

'So,'says one of them coldly. This particular one is a woman, and she is dressed in a green that matches the plants of the garden room. Her white hair is tightly pulled back except for a few ringlets that are intricately arranged around the delicate gold circle sitting atop her head. 'The fay of the autumnal equinox comes to the Seelie Court. Welcome, Selkie Stewart,'she hisses at me.

I am unprepared for how that feels. It is almost like someone has reached out and punched me in the stomach. I try not to let it show, but it is a huge effort not to double over with the sudden, breath-stealing pain of it. I don't know how well I conceal my reaction, but it is surely not well enough. I had hopes for a friendly welcome. This is not it.

'Now, now,'says another voice. 'Naming already. Where's the sport in that?'Another faerie is moving toward us, from

the left, and I blink through the dazed spots that the naming caused to dance in front of my eyes. This one has left her hair loose, and it floats about her like a cloud as she moves, as if she is moving through a body of water that the rest of us can't see. The golden circle on her head is a bit thicker and not quite as pretty, and her dress is a deep, dark rose color. As she moves, bells chime, and I realize that they are sewn into every crevice of her long, bell sleeves and her trailing skirt. She moves forward, directly upon me, and gazes down at me.

I can never decide what color Ben's eyes are. They are blue or green or gray or all three or none of the three, but Ben's eyes are not at all like this. This woman's eyes are completely translucent. It is as if looking into her irises will show you the back of her head. It is unsettling, but I force myself to meet her gaze.

Her mouth'pale, colorless lips'twists into a smile that is the opposite of a smile. And then she says sweetly, 'Selkie. Is this any way to greet your mother?'

She doesn't wait for a response from me, which is a good thing because I don't know how to respond. She turns in a graceful whirl, skirt and hair flying about her and bells bouncing in a merry jingle. 'I shall take care of this,'she proclaims, and just like that, we are alone in the garden room. 'Excellent. Now.'She turns back to me. 'I imagine that you, half ogre, are not enjoying the sunlight.'

'It's fine,'I lie, but really, it is giving me the most terrible headache. But I don't like the way she said ogre. I honestly don't like any of this.

'Ah, you are a natural liar.'My mother smiles. 'Strong faerie blood in you. Stronger than most changelings. That was predicted. I should have expected it. Come. I can show you to your room.'She whirls again. She moves as if she is not moving at all, and I wonder if that's how she is moving or if the naming and sunlight have made me confused. She seems to be moving impossibly quickly. I feel like I am running just to keep up, and I cannot tell what we are passing. I am going to be hopelessly lost, I realize, which must be the point.

'My room?'I echo, trying not to sound like I'm panting for breath.

'Well, of course. What did you expect? We are extremely courteous to our guests here. In fact.'She stops abruptly, and I almost tumble right into her, catching myself at the last minute. She turns to me, and her eyes are glowing with excitement, and this makes me uneasy. 'We have a guest who I suspect you are most interested in.'

I know immediately she is referring to Ben. 'Who?'I ask breezily.

Her smile grows wider. 'Such a faerie,'she murmurs. 'I really wasn't prepared for''And then, 'Perhaps you would like to see him first? Before your room? Indeed, yes, I think so.'

Just like that, she turns again, whirling in a completely different direction this time, and I am back to running to keep up, and then she draws to another abrupt halt. We are standing in an open doorway. There is no door, no lock and key, but I realize immediately why there isn't: because there is a smallish circle of stone on which Ben is lazily lounging, and it is completely surrounded by a small moat, the water tossing about in a tempest of rapids. Ben is in the very middle of the circle of stone, and I can see why, because the outer edges of it are wet with water that has been thrown up by the current of the moat. He is still dressed in the layers he'd been wearing when we got separated, and I wonder that they have given him this protection from the water. Then again, if Will