The Honoured Guest (8 page)

She fell silent and ignored when the prince tried to speak to her, mind whirling over things.

A few minutes later, Bogles came out with more golden pallets of food and set them down before Chelsea. She stared at the succulent food, but didn’t feel like eating. She was far too upset by what had happened with the girl.

“Eat more food, Chelsea,” the prince prompted. He reached for more fruits and nuts and placed them onto her golden plate.

“I’m pretty full, but thank you,” she replied in a disinterested tone, looking away. She wanted to go home.

“You will offend me, and my people, if you do not,” Finvara replied icily, his expression hardening.

Chelsea slowly reached for an apple and bit into it, her stomach protesting. Why was he making her eat so much? The taste hit her and she was suddenly ravenous, devouring the apple and then reaching for more food on the plate.

“Is it delicious?”

“It really is,” she told him, shoving more food into her mouth.

His laugher was her reply, golden eyes watching darkly until she ate most of the platter.

Finvara’s smile was strangely sinister.

***

About a half hour later, a group of women and girls gathered near the table and began to dance. Somewhere, hidden musicians were playing drums and pipes and conversation ceased as all heads turned to listen to the music. Slender bodies dipped and swayed and there was the tinkle of jewels and gold, the swish of silks and other cloths.

Chelsea was enthralled as she watched, feeling hypnotised, almost as if she wanted to dance herself.

The tune was almost irresistible, her feet tapping on the ground under the table.

One of the dancers approached and reached out a hand to her, quickly snagging the red-head’s own. She found herself drawn up and across the grass in her slippers, before she even knew what was happening. The wine made her head spin as she joined the circle of dancers and another girl took her free hand.

I can’t dance to save my life!
She thought in panic, knowing that she was going to fall on her face in front of these gorgeous, graceful people, or something similarly humiliating.

She slowed her pace uncertainly, looking at the others to see what she was supposed to be doing, but they giggled and drew her in, hands showing her how she should move.

Chelsea was drawn around with them, feet stumbling. She laughed, and others joined in amusement and she struggled to match their graceful steps as they moved over the forest floor. She moved her arms up when they did, fingers still joined to those on either side; the music beat going faster and faster until her head was spinning madly.

She caught sight of the queen sitting on her throne, face still covered by the veil, yet the girl could feel the hidden eyes upon her. It was rather unnerving.

The beat died off, and the women stopped, all with joyous smiles on their faces. She laughed and bent over with hands on knees to catch her breath. That had been fun!

“Did you enjoy the dance?” Finvara asked from above.

Chelsea glanced up from under her wildly tangled red hair and grinned. “It was so much fun!”

He offered his hand and she took it, his iciness seeping into her skin and waking her up from the spell she'd fallen under. This was all so wonderful, but it still felt
wrong
. “Prince Finvara, I think I need to go home.”

His smile faded rapidly. “Not yet.”

“But I – “

“It's almost time, Chelsea.” The prince looked up at the night sky, eyes gleaming an unearthly gold in the moonlight. “Midnight is almost upon us.”

Chelsea was curious as she was taken back to the long table and pressed firmly into her seat. “What happens at midnight?”

Finvara gave her a disconcertingly slow smile, a hunger in his golden eyes. “We are permitted to eat.”

Oh right, he'd said that they could all eat at midnight. They must all be starving by now, she'd been there for hours and no-one had taken even one bite.

Why did I just get a chill when he said that? Half the time I wonder if he’s saying one thing and thinking another…

“Alright, but then I really need to go home. It's been amazing here and I loved it, but I have to go back to my family.”

His hand went to her cheek and he chuckled when she shivered. “You would not wish to offend myself, or my queen, would you, Maiden?” The prince asked sharply.

Chelsea’s eyes went wide and she shook her head frantically, rather dazed by his touch. He was so beautiful. She felt drawn into his eyes irresistibly. She flicked a quick look at the queen at the end of the table, feeling her eyes on her again. “Of course not!” He drew back, and she turned to the table and slumped into her chair. Was Finvara keeping her here? They did mean to send her home after midnight, right?

She glanced up uncertainly and saw several people staring at her with their strange luminous golden and silver eyes. Their expressions were remote, as if staring at something distasteful; something utterly beneath them. It was far from the welcoming smiles and greetings of earlier. She began to tense up, heart beating faster in her chest. Something was
wrong
. Her skin was practically crawling and she felt stares boring into her back.

There was something else too, that she had just noticed. Not once had she been bitten by an insect or seen one about, and there appeared to be no birds. It was night, but with this much fire and noises, surely the birds would be awake and chirping?

Was there something wrong with this forest?

Chapter 8

Time passed again and Chelsea was practically vibrating with nervous fear. There were now more eyes upon her, the conversations at the table and in the clearing practically dying down to nothing. She swallowed hard and glanced around, seeing that many eyes were still watching her. She saw expressions on their faces that deepened her fear and made her heart still beat too fast in her chest. No longer was there amusement and laughter, but something more like hunger and a fierce anticipation.

It was as if the whole feast, with the dancing and food and laughter and the cheerful atmosphere, had been nothing but a façade; one that they no longer cared to keep up.

“Prince Finvara…” she began, looking to him desperately.

He grinned at her wolfishly and she swore that she saw tiny whirls of red light in the gold of his eyes. “Yes, Maiden?”

“I would like to leave now. Please.” Chelsea whispered under her breath, leaning closer to him.

His grin widened and he merely stared hard at her, fingers tracing over a knot in the wood of the table. “You cannot leave, you are the guest of honour at our feast.” His eyes went to the sky to see the position of the moon. “Midnight is almost upon us.”

Her green eyes darted around, she saw the warriors who had been guarding the tree portal had moved closer to her, their hands resting over the swords at their belts. Other creatures had also drawn closer, and the threat in the air was implicit.

Chelsea bit back a sound of fear and settled into her chair, the hairs on the back of her neck rising. She couldn’t leave. She had fallen into some sort of trap like an idiot and now it was too late! Her underarms were sweating in the silk from her nervousness, even though the air itself felt colder. It was like all of the warmth was being sucked from the clearing. She wanted to run, but knew that they would catch her.

As if a bucket of water had been thrown over everyone, the music stopped abruptly and all movement stopped. There was no sound at all. Not even insects or creatures of the woodland.

The table fell silent as several people, walking slow and stately in their robes, came through the crowds. She saw a large golden platter on their shoulders, and with such serious expressions on their faces, it somehow reminded her of bearers in a funeral march.

She watched with bated breath, wondering what sort of food was now being brought to them. It had to be almost midnight. Perhaps it was a deer, or a pig, or something? It was quite big, needing eight Fae to bring it in.

The men came right up to the table near the queen and some smaller creatures darted in to clear a spot on the wooden surface.

They lowered it, and she was surprised to see that the platter was
empty
. She looked around in confusion and saw that no one else was stunned that there was no food on it. In fact, they all looked rather excited and hungry.

“Why is it empty?” she asked Prince Finvara in a hushed tone. When his golden eyes gazed at her, she shuddered back at the emotion in their depths.

“Will you honour our feast with words in our language, Maiden?” The Fae prince asked her softly, extending his hand. When she hesitantly placed hers in his, he raised her to her feet.

Chelsea looked at him and bit her lip. “I don’t know your language!” she said fiercely. Why had she accepted his hand? She hadn’t intended to, because she was still frightened by the tension of the people around her. It was as if she had been compelled by his eyes.

“Repeat these words,” Finvara intoned in a louder voice, so that he could be heard. He then spoke words to her, and as if Chelsea had sunken into the glowing gold of his eyes, she could hear her voice repeating what he said so that everyone there could hear her. The Fae, and all the other creatures, were dead silent, heads bowed in respect. Her tongue didn’t even stumble over the musical and intricate words and she spoke them as if she had done so her entire life.

When Chelsea’s eyes cleared, she saw that everyone was still staring right at her. The prince let go of her hand and watched her with a cold expression on his face.

A deep chime abruptly broke over the clearing then.

Chelsea’s eyes went wide as she slowly looked around and saw every creature was still staring right at her. Their eyes were predatory. She swallowed in growing fear. “W-what’s going on?” she asked, voice thready. “What did I just say?”

Queen Mab spoke for the first time, her voice like the purest of chimes. And yet it hurt the human’s ears like shards of glass, leaving an echo inside her head. Chelsea did not understand the words as she screamed and clamped her hands over her ears, but everyone there listened and bowed towards the throne, and then their gaze went back to her.

Her hands drew back from her ears where she'd tried to block the sound of the queen’s voice and saw with shock that there was blood. “Oh my god,” she gasped. Fear like poison began to crawl through her veins.

Suddenly everything began to change, and the air about the creatures and the clearing began to warp. The gold and silver faded, and the whites and pure brilliant colours leaked from clothing like ink draining out, changing into tones of black, onyx, grey and darkness. The beauty stripped from the Fae, and other creatures, to reveal hideous visages with hooked noses, sharp deadly teeth and gnarled hands. Their eyes were terrifying and hungry, glowing eerily in the moonlight.

Their silky silver hair turned to tones of obsidian and darker dull greys, the mercurial eyes to a frightening vermillion with small fixed black pupils, the white robes dulled, and the coloured cloth that had been the hues of a rainbow now turned dark, as if all the light had been pulled from it.

She was frozen in place, as the very trees lost their leaves and the branches became twisted and dark, the grass and flowers dying to reveal hard cold dirt covered in crawling things. The fruits, nuts and blooms on the tables perished and withered in their bowls, red wine took on the appearance of blood.

No, it
was
blood.

She had been fed blood in her goblet, made to taste like wine!

Chelsea finally broke out of her frozen state with a gasp of terror, heart thundering in her chest, as she shoved her chair back with a thud to the ground and backed off. But they were all around her and she cried out as hideous, deformed, nightmarish faces closed in, hands reaching for her.

The very trees themselves appeared to stretch down with their branches to grab at her.

A scream of pure terror broke from the red-haired girl’s mouth, echoing around the clearing. It seemed to give them pause and then they broke into words, chanting in that musical language that had so enchanted her before, that now only leant to her dread. She tried to speak, but her throat had become dry, her vision wavered, as the stress and fear threatened to overwhelm her. “Please,” she finally whispered, gaze pleading as it went to Finvara. “Let me go
home
! I don't want to be here anymore.”

Prince Finvara moved gracefully towards her, his golden eyes becoming cold as ice. “You cannot leave, Maiden, this is all in your honour.” He stopped before her and raised a hand, his nails becoming long, black and sharp. He touched her throat and she felt the agony of ice searing her flesh and then sharp talons bite in. “You can never leave.”

Chelsea looked desperately around for escape, for someone who had kind eyes and might help her, but she found none. Her eyes fell upon the table and widened with complete horror, when she saw what was on the platters that she’d been eating from; bloody chunks of meat. Rivulets of crimson ran down the sides of the gold and onto the table. Her hand flew to her mouth as she retched.