Stolen Away Page 18

  I dug in my heels. “I don’t want to.” Crowds were bad enough, Fae crowds had my throat tightening up. Lucas and Meg exchanged a glance. Their hands gripped my elbows.

  “Come along, Eloise,” Meg said simply.

  My feet left trenches in the dust. “You two are bossier than Jo,” I complained.

  Meg was completely unruffled, as usual. “The quicker you do this, the quicker you can go home. Besides, we haven’t the time for nerves.”

  “Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You can let go, wardens,” I added. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  Meg half grinned. “You have Deer blood, Eloise. We’re fleet of foot. I ought to know.”

  They didn’t let go until we were in the marble foyer. Blown glass oil lamps caught the sheen of the sun through the windows. We could hear the murmur of voices in the ballroom. I wiped my hands on my jeans. “So what do I have to do exactly?”

  “Just stand on the dais and make a formal call for aid.” Lucas squeezed my hand.

  Conversations faded when we entered; I in my worn T-shirt, Meg in her russet dress, Lucas in a frock coat fit for a prince, which I suppose, in a way, he was. Ronan and Imogen were near the front. There were folks from every house: hawk, hound, deer, fox, wolf, bear, rabbit, horse, cat, mouse, horse people and mer-people, house hobs and winged sprites.

  All staring at me.

  If I could be undone by this, how could I hope to free my aunt and Strahan’s other captives? No one seemed to understand I was less scared when that crow pushed me off the roof than I was right now. That, at least, was quick. This moment, however, already felt like it stretched until next winter.

  My mouth was dry and I desperately wanted a sip from the water bottle in my knapsack. Instead, I took a step forward, and another, until I reached Ronan.

  Imogen looked at me disdainfully. “You don’t mean to wear that, do you?”

  “Mother.” Lucas sighed.

  Ronan motioned to the dais, which looked like a little stage, filled with huge potted ferns and rugs. I climbed the stairs slowly. From my new vantage point, I could see that in addition to the mahogany tables and fainting couches, there were spears, swords, and quivers of delicately carved arrows. Among the corsets and breeches, there were also bright armor, grim mouths, excited eyes. I couldn’t forget that although all I wanted to do was rescue my friends, these Fae courts wanted to depose Strahan once and for all. And with the faint whiff of hope provided by my offer, they meant to do just that.

  They were starving, their crops blighted, their numbers thinned as Strahan gathered captives for his exhibits. This was so much bigger than me and my family. Even a few members of the Unseelie courts had come and stood ready to hear my speech. I suddenly wished I’d taken debating class. Just a formality, I reminded myself. Ronan had already agreed to help me, and preparations were already under way.

  I didn’t even attempt to smile. My mouth was so dry my lips would have stuck to my teeth. The only sound was the rhythmic bang of the smithy’s hammer from somewhere beyond the back kitchen. I knew I was already bright red as I cleared my throat. Lucas nodded encouragingly.

  “I’m Antonia Hart’s niece,” I said. My voice wobbled a little. “You all know what Strahan is doing to this place and to your courts.” I spoke louder. I really hated this. “He’s been capturing your people and displaying them as curiosities.” My wrists were still bruised, and I held them up as proof. “And now he’s captured my aunt, and I mean to rescue her.”

  A short, grizzled man who looked just like what I imagined a dwarf would look like, spat on the ground. A house hob scowled and hurried in with a cleaning rag. “Why should we risk ourselves for Antonia? She’s been nothing but trouble.” There were shouts of agreement. My temper warmed, remembering Mother Hazel’s vision.

  “Antonia was just a girl when Strahan dragged her into your politics,” I shouted over the din. Anger made my voice strong. My mother would be proud. “And Strahan’s the one who refused to give up his crown, not her. She’s had to flee for half the year to keep herself safe and your court safe as well. How long do you think you’ll last as free houses if Strahan binds my aunt come tomorrow night?”

  Everyone assumed that Antonia had kept on the run during Strahan’s summer reign because she had to keep herself and the handfast ribbon out of his reach.

  But I had reason to believe my aunt was trickier than that.

  It was watching her give my mom the Fae pendant that had made me think of it. She and Antonia shared everything, and had always been immensely protective of each other. And we had that locked hope chest in our living room, a storage room in the basement of the apartment building full of Antonia’s stuff, as well as her van, which was parked in our parking spot since we didn’t have a car of our own.

  I kept Lucas’s gaze to steady me. “I’m going to free her,” I said. “My friends and I, young as we are, are going in. Are you going to run away and leave it all to us?”

  Ronan held up a hand. “She speaks true,” he said. “And the House of Talia has already pledged to her.” He turned to me. “You must understand, Eloise, that we swore fealty to Strahan as the high king many years ago. We are still bound by that and may do him no lasting harm.”

  “Oh.” Why hadn’t anyone told me that before?

  Wait.

  They didn’t think I was going to kill him, did they?

  That seemed a little extreme. Not to mention totally gross and illegal.

  “We will give you warriors to meet Strahan’s warriors, but the rest has to be by your hand or Antonia’s.”

  Shields were beaten with sword hilts, and there was so much shouting it reverberated in my skull. Skin shimmered, teeth grew too sharp. In the lamplight, I couldn’t tell if Meg’s dress was wool or fur.

  I didn’t like where this was going. There was nothing I could do about it though. The facts were facts, and we needed the court’s help if we were going to succeed.

  I nodded.

  “Agreed.”

  • • •

  The journey back through the mushroom ring was less disconcerting now that I knew what to expect. It was just as hot as when we’d left, even so close to dusk. The leaves hung listless, the flowers didn’t stir. The air was heavy, dead. It was all too easy to imagine bloodstained hobs wandering in the woods.

  There were seventeen messages on my phone, all from Mom except one. That one was from Jo, telling me that my mom was also calling her. She’d told her I was fine and would call her back. She didn’t mention our plan, of course.

  So if I survived, I was dead anyway.

  We walked the dry fields in silence, heading out to the road where Jo’s car was parked. Meg had been the first to pledge herself to the journey—well, after Lucas. She stared all around her curiously. Her eyes were black, deer eyes.

  “Your eyes,” I murmured. She blinked, and when she looked up again, her eyes were normal.

  The streets were quiet in town, and it was clear where the Host had roamed. Trees had fallen through roofs, thick branches lay across the road, wires were down. The trees in the park had lost most of their leaves overnight; the grass was buried in drifts of yellow and orange, making it look as if it were on fire.

  “I need to go home first,” I said. Lucas nodded grimly, eyes suddenly hawklike.

  I let us in the side door of the building, and we took the back stairs down to the basement. It was damp and dark, rows of locked doors under weak lighting. Our footsteps echoed and the door clanged loudly when it shut behind us. The only light inside was from a bare bulb hanging on a chain.

  “It’s like a horror movie in here.” I looked distastefully at the stacks of cardboard boxes and wavering shadows.

  “What are we looking for?” Lucas asked. “You haven’t said yet.”

  “The handfasting ribbon. It’s red velvet, an inch or so thick.”

  Meg raised her eyebrows. “Antonia would have it on her person, wouldn’t she?”

  I shook my
head, opening the first box. It was full of newwave records from the eighties. “That’s what we’ve all been assuming. But I remember seeing it when I was little. I found it in a music box in my mom’s closet. She freaked out and took it away, and I never saw it again. She said it was a family heirloom. Antonia told Strahan she’d lost it, but he didn’t believe her. And now I don’t think she even could have done that without his knowing it. In the vision, it tied them together, bound the magic or whatever.”

  “Aye, we’ve always thought the crowns were the link, but the ribbon makes sense. He’d want it to control her.”

  “Well, screw that.”

  We searched all the boxes, found tarnished silver lockets, books on fairy lore nibbled by mildew, old hats, a teddy bear, a painted jean jacket, and the remains of an unfortunate mouse behind a broken juicer machine.

  No ribbon.

  “Let’s try the van,” I suggested. It was in the back corner, where the overhead lights flickered annoyingly. It was an extended VW van, the original lime green since painted over in blue. In the back, the single shelf was empty except for a few candles and a box of matches. The bed was made, but also empty. We found a box under the driver’s seat, and I got excited until we opened it and found only photographs and an old diary, the pages yellowed.

  “Nothing.” I pulled the door shut and leaned against it, defeated. “I was so sure it would be here.”

  Lucas ran a hand through his hair, equally frustrated. “Samhain is in mere hours now.”

  “I know.” There was a lump in my throat.

  Meg pinched Lucas, hard. “You’re not helping,” she chided him. To me she asked, “Did your aunt not have a home of her own?”

  I shook my head. “Not as long as I’ve been alive.”

  Meg tapped her lips, thinking. “It would be in a place where she could get to it with some ease, if necessary.”

  I thought so hard I nearly went cross-eyed.

  “She doesn’t even have a bank account, never mind a safety-deposit box. I always thought it was just because she didn’t trust the government or something. When I was ten, I decided she was on the run from the police.” I thought harder. “In the movies, it’s always in a locker at the bus depot.” Lucas waited patiently, his hair the color of antique wood. Something clicked, slowly. “That’s it,” I whispered. I bounced on my heels. “The old hope chest. Come on.”

  We hurried up to the apartment. “Mom’ll be at work.”

  We crept inside. Meg was still as a deer in the woods. I was glad for the area rugs, which muffled the sound of our footsteps. The living room was stuffy, windows locked tight. The sun was fully out now, burning the barren field of sky.

  The hope chest, of course, was locked.

  And I’d been looking for the keys for years, with no success. We didn’t have time for a repeat search. “We’ll need to pick the lock,” I whispered.

  Meg smiled. “Let me,” she murmured, soft as breath. Even Elvis didn’t move from where he was curled up on the couch. She pulled a long straight pin out of her leather satchel. It didn’t take her very long at all, a few jiggles, a soft snick, and it was done. I took the candles and the bowl of jelly beans off the top and lifted the lid. Lucas muffled the creak of the hinges with his hands.

  The hope chest held jars of rowan berries, dried ivy vines, iron nails, and, in the center, a small pouch. It was soft velvet, like the ones you got at jewelry stores, and it was bound with red thread.

  Inside, the velvet handfasting ribbon.

  Chapter 18

  Jo

  “They should be here by now.”

  I was pacing in the field by the pond, where I could keep an eye on the hidden entrance while we waited for Eloise and Lucas. Isadora was perched on a tree branch making hand signals to the Fae hidden in the pines on the opposite side of the water. The sun was sinking behind the park, leaving a thick humidity that made it feel as if we were wearing woolen coats.

  “Something’s happened,” I insisted, pacing faster. “Something’s wrong. Oh my God, they ate her liver.”

  “Ew.” Isadora grimaced. “We eat berries, you nutter, not human organs.”

  “Jo, if you don’t chill out, I’m going to poke you with an elf dart.” Devin waggled a handful at me to prove his point.

  I slowed my pacing but I didn’t stop altogether. I rubbed my arms, chilled despite the heat. “Aren’t you worried?”

  “Of course I am. But she’ll be here.” He went back to opening and closing his pocket knife. His nervous tic was just as irritating as mine.

  “Will you both calm down?” Isadora snapped. “Honestly, amateurs.”

  The sun sank lower and lower. Twilight rose like smoke, suddenly, maliciously. I could hear Eldric’s warnings echoing in my ears.

  “There,” Devon said just as Eloise came racing between the willows, with Lucas and a girl I didn’t know. Eloise’s face was red, excited.

  I hugged her hard. “You’re late.”

  She hugged me back. “Sorry.” She introduced us. “This is Meg.”

  We smiled at each other. “Well?” I asked. “Did you get help?” She nodded, breathless. “Brill,” I said. “I knew you would.”

  “You?”

  “Isadora’s lot will protect the pond. Because apparently come Halloween night, this park is just crawling with beasties.”

  “Great,” she said drily. “The courts will meet us in there. They can’t take Strahan on personally though. That’s up to us.”

  Meg shivered suddenly. She was graceful as a doe. “Samhain’s unfurling,” she said quietly. “We’d best get going, before we’re caught out.”

  “Strahan will have patrols,” Lucas agreed. His eyes glittered suddenly. “Down!”

  We dropped into the tall grass like we were marionettes whose strings had suddenly been cut. There was a rock digging into my hip. Devin was behind Eloise, his hand on her calf. Lucas had swung himself up into an oak tree.

  A woman wearing hard, shiny leather, like a beetle’s shell, emerged from a circle of mushrooms. She was armed to the teeth with wickedly curved swords. Beetles crawled over the grass, dust clinging to their pincers. Beetles didn’t usually bother me; they were kind of pretty, actually, the way the last of the light caught them in swirls of iridescent blues and greens.

  Except when there were hundreds of them.

  I had to bite my tongue when one of them walked over my thumb. Did Fae beetles attack? Were they poisonous? If that one got any closer to my face, I was going to bite my tongue clean off.

  She walked slowly, confidently, barely looking around. She had no reason to believe we’d be here by the pond. But she was close enough that I couldn’t cry out, not even when a beetle got tangled in my hair. Another one followed, falling into the collar of my shirt. I swallowed a scream.

  When she’d finally gone and Isadora and Lucas gave the signal to come out of hiding, I leaped to my feet and shuddered about like a lunatic. I shook my hair out, and my shirt, moaning. “I did not like that.”

  “If you’re done dancing,” Isadora said drily. “Let’s go, before any of the others come. They have to pass by the pond to get to the ring.”

  The swan was making its rounds on the pond. The last of the lilies sweetened the still air. “Could be a sentry,” Meg said. “Strahan’s from Swan folk, after all, before Talia exiled him.”

  “I got it,” Lucas said, dropping out of the tree and turning into a hawk. His huge wings flapped by my face. It was so unexpected that I tumbled backward and landed on my butt.

  “You do that a lot.” Isadora shook her head at me.

  “Oh, shut up,” I muttered, gathering up the wounded bits of my dignity. Lucas circled the pond, then dive-bombed. The swan honked, insulted. Lucas pecked again, going for its eyes. The swan eventually flew off, honking madly. Lucas waited for us on the banks, shimmering back into a medieval prince.

  “Just a bird.” He shrugged.

  I gaped at him. “Warn a body, would you, birdbr
ain?”

  Eloise grinned at me. “Just wait.”

  I groaned. “It makes me nervous when you’re that cheerful.”

  “Please, you’re the troublemaker. I’m the quiet, polite one.”

  I snorted so hard I sounded like a dyspeptic pig. “Right.”

  “You’re both brats,” Devin said soothingly. “Now, move it.”

  Isadora made a last signal to her brethren, who gleamed briefly like fireflies in response. She floated over the middle of the pond and dropped like a stone. Ripples made concentric circles. She popped back up briefly. “Will you come on? You’ve got to swim to get to the door, don’t you?”

  “This is such a bad idea,” I muttered as Meg dove in, then Devin.

  Lucas waited for me, keeping guard. “Go on,” he urged.

  I walked into the warm water, feeling a little too much like Ophelia for my liking. My skirt twisted heavily around my legs. I took a deep breath and went under, struggling to open my eyes. Everything went gray-green and hazy. We swam down toward the bottom, batting weeds out of the way. I followed Devin’s wildly kicking feet.

  Until he stopped kicking.

  I couldn’t tell what was going on, only that he’d stopped swimming and had decided to float instead. Water filled his clothes so that he swayed gently. I swam closer and tugged on his sleeve. My lungs were already starting to protest the lack of air. He ignored me.

  I tugged harder.

  He was too busy staring at the watery shadow of a girl under the water. Her hair was long and pale. She was innocently naked; her long hair glistened like opals. She beckoned at Devin. He followed.

  Isadora flew past my nose, startling me. She pointed up and then burst through the surface of the pond. I followed, gasping for breath.

  “That’s a kelpie,” Isadora snapped. “She’ll kill him.” She slapped her small hand on my forehead. “See for yourself.”

  I dove back down, searching for Devin. The hauntingly beautiful girl wasn’t a girl at all. She wasn’t even a mermaid.

  She was a horse.

  A big, black, angry horse was drowning Devin because he couldn’t be bothered to fight back. I kicked forward frantically, just as Lucas shot past me. He swung his sword at the kelpie. She nearly clamped her teeth over his arm, eyes rolling.