Nobody in the entire clearing breathed as we waited for the King’s response. He stared at her for a long while before tipping his head toward Brogan with a frown.
The leader of the Chaun bowed low, his beard sweeping the ground. “My apologies, King of the Summer. We intended to release him to ye this day. I assure ye no iron is touching the creature. His cage is lined with a pelt. ‘Twas the oddest thing, it was. Last evenin’ the pixie attacked our dear Robyn and we had to put a stop to it. We meant no harm to the Princess’s pet.”
In a slow movement the King nodded his head then chuckled. Khalistah’s eyes grew wide. Near the forest and all around the field, brown and gray bunnies came out of hiding and hopped around like a fairy tale.
“Ah, dearest daughter. That pixie of yours has ever been a pesky thing. I cannot condone the torture of a Fae creature; however, you must keep a better watch over your pet.”
Her tiny lips pursed. Brogan cleared his throat and waved a hand at Keefe.
“Release the pixie,” Brogan told him then addressed the King. “He has not been harmed or tortured, King of the Summer. I swear it.”
“Fine, fine.” The King waved off Brogan’s assurances as if bored. “I have wished to cage the scoundrel myself more than a few times.”
He chuckled again, and all the Fae except Khalistah joined his merriment. Colorful songbirds swooped through the sky overhead.
Seconds later Pauli flew in a slow, depressing buzz, landing on the FFG’s shoulder and nuzzling her neck. He lifted his face long enough to send me a vicious show of teeth.
“There, there,” she said to it with no warmth in her voice.
With the pixie returned and the King seeming unfazed, Brogan motioned for his people to continue their dancing and get back to celebrating.
Khalistah stared at me so long it was beyond creepy. I could all but hear the crank in her mind deciding what to do next. Her attention finally turned to the Prince, who was pondering Cassidy from afar as if bewildered by his interest in such an ordinary creature. She clung to Dad’s arm, practically hiding behind him. I wanted to scream at her to run as fast and far as she could.
“See something you like, Prince?” Khalistah asked him.
His eyes slid from the Princess, back to Cassidy. The FFG’s lips turned up in a vile expression of happiness.
“I believe I do,” he answered. “The sister…”
The King and other Fae noted the Prince’s interest and I swallowed hard. McKale cleared his throat next to me as the Prince began to make his way slowly to Cassidy. She moved further behind Dad and his jaw set in a frown at the bronzed Fae. Khalistah gave a wickedly happy laugh.
Just as the Prince neared, causing Dad to walk backward, an angry voice hollered from a distance like a war cry. All heads turned toward the trees where the Clour showed themselves, looking fierce. Rock was sprinting toward us, iron dagger in hand, yelling, “Ye can’t have her!”
McKale and I met each other’s eyes with mutual shocked expressions.
Before Rock could make it the last ten feet to us his feet were suddenly halted and his upper body jolted forward. I watched in horror as grass shot up from the ground, long and wide, winding around his legs and up his torso. He struggled in anguish against it.
“No!” Cass yelled.
Dad held her back. Grass twined, squeezing his arms to his side, and then wound around his face to cover his mouth. His head thrashed, curls everywhere.
“Drop the weapon.” The cool voice came from the Summer King, causing an uproar of delighted bird chatter that contrasted the dismay of everyone in the field.
Rock’s eyes blazed at the Prince and he fought for short breaths through his nose. He had enough good sense to drop the dagger at his side. The other Clourichaun retreated a step back toward the tree line, as if frightened that their approach might make things worse for Rock. Their poor faces were filled with fear.
“The Clourichaun?” Summer King murmured. “How many of their kind remain?”
McKale cleared his throat and said, “Twelve, sir.”
“Only twelve…” He seemed to ponder this with something regret for what could have been, but it only lasted a moment before being replaced by disdain. “A pity.”
Martineth piped up next to him. “They deserve every moment of punishment they have received. Worthless pups. This one should die for coming near us with a weapon.”
The King lifted a hand toward Rock and the blade of grass peeled back from his mouth. “What is the meaning of this outburst, Clour boy?”
Rock attempted to suck air into his lungs, panting. “I meant no disrespect to ye, King o’ the Summer. But I cannot sit back an’ watch Cassidy Mason taken from her family.”
The King looked genuinely baffled. Khalistah glided to her father’s side with a sweet smile. “Do not listen to this fool, father. Unlike this Clourichaun, the Prince has been your good and loyal servant. If he seeks a simple gift I am certain you would agree that he has earned it.”
The King’s attention went to the Prince as it all came together. “Is it a human you fancy? I find that rather surprising, given your efforts the past few centuries for my daughter’s affections.”
Several of the Fae sniggered.
“I…” The Prince was still puzzled. His head swiveled toward Cassidy. “Such an urge is quite strange and unfamiliar to me, but I believe I would like to have this human.”
“Ne’er!” shouted Rock. “Take me instead! I will go!”
“Oh, my God.” Cassidy covered her mouth.
The Prince’s face contorted. “I do not want
you
!”
“Ye can’t take her! Ye—” The blade of grass slapped back over Rock’s mouth before he could finish and the King sighed at the trivial issue.
The FFG clapped her hands, elated. “What fun!”
“She is of magical blood,” the Summer King pointed out. “We do not have a wealth of magical humans to spare.”
“Oh, go on, Father. Do let the Prince have her!”
Martineth ran a slender finger up the King’s neck. “He has been such a good boy. And never asked for a thing.”
No! No, no, no, this could not be happening.
Rock thrashed against his bindings. I stepped closer to McKale until our arms were up against each other. I thought I might pass out from anxiety.
Brogan shifted uncomfortably and looked at the sky, which had darkened a bit as the sun dipped behind the trees.
“Er, Father,” McKale noticed it too. “Should we perhaps begin the pre-binding entertainment for our esteemed guests?”
“Fabulous idea, son!” He looked at the Summer King. “Aye, King o’ the Summer, we have prepared a video for ye to view using a sort of ‘human magic.’ Completely harmless, of course.”
“Entertainment!” said the King. “How lovely. It will give me time to think.”
Khalistah did not look pleased, but she didn’t complain. She shot me a glare that told me it wasn’t over, though.
Brogan beamed. “‘Twill only take a few minutes to prepare. Excuse us, please.” He motioned to his people. “Music!”
Brogan backed away from the group as a new round of music rose up. Cassidy never let go of Dad’s arm, and Mom took her other hand, sending a hostile glance at the Prince. He was too busy staring at Cass to notice. My parents came up behind McKale and me. Mom’s hands were cold and shaking when she removed my necklace. Dad unhooked McKale’s wires and pulled them from the backside of his shirt. The Fae, clueless about the nature of our doings, continued their conversations and watching the festivities. Rock remained in his confined place nearby while the other Clour kept to the trees, their demeanors void of any playfulness.
McKale and I turned our heads toward the technology table, watching Dad connect wires with Mom and Cass at his side. A maelstrom of emotion swirled inside me. I reached for McKale’s hand and we both held tight.
This was it.
Blue light suddenly flickered to life on the giant screen. Leprechauns gasped and clapped at the sight. Fae conversation halted as they turned toward the screen. The music stopped and the clearing was momentarily silent. My stomach tightened into a ball, pinging around inside me like an arcade game.
Please let this work!
“What a grand contraption,” the King murmured. “Quite peculiar.”
Brogan addressed the King. “We’ve recently found ourselves in a fearful bind. Please accept my apologies ahead of time for any offense occurred from this show, King of Summer. That is not our intention. Ye have ever been gracious to our kind, and I can only hope ye’ll understand when ye see it fer yerself.”
Once again, the King looked utterly confused. Brogan turned abruptly and strode away.
I held on to McKale’s hand for dear life. His eyes found mine and we shared a mingling of hope and love that clashed with fear and worry.
A loud, muffled sound burst from the speakers and everyone in the clearing jumped then laughed at themselves. Dad adjusted the volume as darkened images appeared on the screen—the back of the bronzed Prince as we followed him down the dim tunnel.
Yes!
I let go of McKale’s hand to hug his arm. His video and audio worked! He grinned at the screen. All around us Fae and Leprechaun speculated over what they were seeing.
“…appears to be the Prince,” a Fae girl said.
“Why, it’s Faerie!” another exclaimed. “However is this possible?”
“What is this?” asked the FFG, her voice thick with suspicion.
The King raised a hand to shush his entourage, his rapt attention on the screen.
Dad gave me a discreet thumbs-up and I beamed at him. But it wasn’t over yet. Not by far. We’d made our way over a giant hurdle, but more were in our path. Our fate rested on the King and his daughter’s reactions to the video.
The Leprechaun were silent as images of human pets filled the screen. The Fae were fascinated; all except the FFG, who wore a mask of dread as realization began to dawn. If we’d somehow captured all of this, then that meant we’d captured the events to come as well. Her head swiveled to McKale and me, eyes flashing an arctic white. The patch of grass beneath her feet shriveled in a miniature version of the effect her Father had. I clutched McKale’s arm harder.
When it got to the part where we followed Khalistah away from her court, she cried out.
“Make them stop this nonsense at once, Father! This is unseemly. They wish to make a fool of me!”
He gave her a withered expression as if she were a child interrupting his nightly program.
“They have managed to capture things exactly how they are, dearest Princess. Do you find the truth so unseemly?”
“I question their intentions, Father. Make it stop!” she demanded. She moved to stand in front of him with her hands on her hips.
The King sat up straighter and the sun was covered over by a momentary storm cloud. “I will not. Stand down and mind yourself.”
The Princess appeared taken aback, as if not used to being scolded. But the King’s word was final and she shot me one last hate-filled glance.
“It is not utterly—” Khalistah mumbled, but her words, her attempted lies, died on her lips. “They have somehow—”
Her father ignored her.
It didn’t take long until we came to the part of the video where Khalistah lost her temper, revealing her ultimate plan and then altering the Prince’s memory. She lifted her head and squared her petite shoulders, even as those around her sucked in breaths of admonishment and a few Fae laughed at her desire to have McKale. But their reactions did not matter. It was the King I watched. His face had gone hard and his back was rigid. By the end of the video the entire field of grass crackled dry beneath us. The tall grasses of the field tipped back, lying dead as if blown by a lethal wind.
Dad turned off the video and every eye settled on the Summer King.
“Father,” the FFG began. “It is not…” Again her tongue seemed to swell at the attempted lie and she brought a creamy hand to her throat.
The King stood with grace and his light blue robes swirled around him as if tiny tornadoes flanked his body.
He looked directly at McKale and I. “Have you somehow altered reality and replicated Faerie and its occupants?”
“Nay, King o’ the Summer.” McKale stepped forward. “The human device records things exactly as they happen. What ye saw was real and true. I swear it.”
His head slowly swiveled to his daughter in disbelief. She shrank back.
“There is more, Father. This—” she waved her hand at the screen, “—
contraption
, does not reveal all. What I did was necessary. I can explain.”
“You are born of me, Princess Khalistah, however you are as bound to my laws as all others.”
“But of course, King Father.”
“You would interfere with my plans to continue my race of cobblers?”
“I had a plan which would ensure—”
“Silence!” The ground and trees shuddered at the King’s booming voice.
The FFG pressed her lips together.
“You would use forbidden magic against a brother Fae?”
We all looked at the Prince for the first time and found his disdainful stare pointed at the Princess.
“I admit it was wrong,” Khalistah said to her father. “I was overcome by a rare fit of temper when I discovered the two humans were attempting to trick me and harm my reputation. We had an agreement.”
“An agreement that you would take a
human
consort?” her father bellowed.
A Fae girl made a gagging sound and the FFG’s cheekbones filled with a rosy blush.
“He has ever wanted to please me,” Khalistah explained. “He would be my pet, just as other Fae have.”
“That is not how it appears. This is a disgraceful moment, daughter of mine.”
She stepped toward him, pleading with her eyes and words. “Please, Father. Erase the memories of these witnesses so they will not know my shame. I had a weakness for the boy. Even
you
cannot help but feel affection toward the wee folk!”
The Prince let a sound of disgust escape and the Fae took steps back. Their faces were filled with fear at the prospect of having their memories taken, and aversion to the idea of affection toward humans.
“I am displeased, Daughter. You have left me no choice but to do that which I abhor.”