The small grove of trees surrounding the inn seemed so much bigger and eerier now. Even with their wrists bound together, Rhiannon clung to the back of Taliesin’s cloak for the extra comfort it provided. “This place is so much different now than during the day.”
Taliesin slowed and searched the growing fog. “It’s not so different,” he replied. “This is part of the wisp’s illusion. Seems it’s caught on to me being here too. It shouldn’t be a problem.” He led the way through a particularly dense patch away from the light.
“Shouldn’t we follow the light?”
“That’s what the wisp wants. The best way to catch up to them is to go the opposite direction.”
She squeezed through a gap between trees after him. Somehow, he didn’t have the same trouble she did. “What will we do when we catch up?”
“Ask which court they’re from. If it’s Seelie, we’ll want to speak to its ruler. If it’s Unseelie, we let it off with a warning and hightail it out of there.”
“Is the Unseelie Court so scary?” She had heard tales, of course, but many of the stories could have been told of Seelie courts as well. The former spirited folks away and left changelings in the open, but that didn’t mean the latter weren’t up to the same tricks. One simply didn’t interact with the Fae if one could help it, regardless of the court involved.
“They aren’t scary so much as troublesome. The Unseelie courts aren’t exactly fond of humans that can use magic, not that they’re fond of anyone.” There was something else, too—something that flitted across his face, though he didn’t give it voice. He guided her around a rather deep puddle that opened up just in front of him. “Judging by these harmless pranks, I’m guessing they’re Seelie or unaffiliated.”
A branch above them cracked and swung down, making Rhiannon jump. She stuck even closer to him after that.
No matter how far they traveled, they didn’t seem to put any distance between them and the light behind them. On the contrary, it crept closer. She glanced over her shoulder at it. Taliesin threaded his fingers with hers and gave her hand a light squeeze. “It’s a reflection,” he explained. “The fairy is casting a light that reflects on the fog. That’s why you never catch up if you follow it.”
“I would have thought the explanation more magical than an optical illusion.”
Taliesin chuckled. “Never underestimate a fairy, but don’t overestimate them either. It would require a lot more magic than the average wisp possesses to do more than mess with your perception.”
He stopped, and Rhiannon walked into his back. She glanced up at him only to find her wrist attached to a tree. “Taliesin?” She searched the mist. “Taliesin? Where are you?” He’d warned her this might happen, but being forewarned did nothing to assuage the panic bubbling up inside her. “Taliesin!”
Something slimy and scaly patted her head. She screamed. “It’s all right,” whispered a voice she couldn’t recognize. “Close your eyes.” Fear surged through her. Would this be the moment that separated her from her sanity? From Taliesin?
“Shh, it’s all right,” soothed the voice. Something familiarly musical crept in at the edges of its harsh grating. “I promised to protect you, didn’t I?”
Trembling, she did so. That something that had patted her head pulled her closer against the rough, gnarled bark of the tree. In the darkness, she heard a whistled tune as if from far away. The something stroked her hair, and slowly, the talons combing through her brown locks softened to human fingers. The scent of moss and damp leaves changed to soap as the bark became a linen shirt. The whistled tune grew closer and closer until it emanated just above her head.
“Can you see me now?”
Rhiannon lifted her tear-streaked face to find Taliesin’s smile in the darkness. “Yes.”
“Good.” He gave her head another pat. “I think that was the wisp’s last resort. It can’t have too much left to throw at us.”
It certainly seemed that way. The vast forest had shrunk, and the fog dissipated to a watery mist that settled in the grass and soaked into Rhiannon’s boots as they walked. She swore she heard crickets chirping around them, but that was absurd. “It’s too early for crickets,” she murmured.
“It means we’re getting close to the Court,” Taliesin explained. “The Fae lands don’t run on the same schedule as the human world.”
Unsettled, Rhiannon asked, “We’ve gone beyond the veil?”
“I think so.” He scanned the trees around them. “We’re not near an Unseelie Court at least. Things would be much more unsettling if we were.”
Ahead, the trees thinned and relinquished them to a clearing lit by beautiful glass sconces. Here, the leaves sparkled with a silver light all their own, and the full moon shone from above. Men and women in glittering costumes danced at the center while others hung back at the sides drinking and making merry. The ones that looked human were achingly beautiful while the less human were equal parts ethereal and terrifying. Smaller pixies zipped about on butterfly and dragonfly wings while gnomes dodged the taller revelers to reach tables laden with food and drink.
Surveying all this on the crystalline throne was a young child dressed in a splendor of silks awash in the hues of the setting sun. Her rose-colored hair cascaded loose from beneath a spray of gold and silver flowers arranged into a crown atop her head. The girl beckoned them closer. “Taliesin,” she purred, “it’s been too long. We hope our wisp didn’t get you too lost on your way?”
He bowed deeply to the girl. “Not at all, Your Majesty, although I do find it curious how it tried to lure my companion into the fog.”
“Ah yes, we were curious about her,” said the Seelie Queen. Though she spoke the common tongue, the accent of ancient Fae magic rang through every word. “It’s not often a human woman catches the eye of one such as yourself. We wished to see if you would notice her missing sooner than when we had borrowed your violin.”
Taliesin sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t tease my companion so,” he admonished. “She isn’t an instrument.”
The child’s lips curved into a smile. “We can see that, but that still does not answer our question. We wish to know if she is but a companion or something more.”
“Then I will save you the effort. She is but a companion. I’ve promised to escort her safely to meet her lover.”
“That saddens us. We think you are rather cute together.”
Taliesin coughed. Pink tinged his cheeks. “Please do not tease, Your Majesty.”
“We are not teasing,” she corrected. “We are merely stating the truth.” The Seelie Queen turned to her court and switched to the fairy language. “Is that not so, friends?” Polite applause joined the whoops and hollers of the less refined creatures.
Taliesin straightened. “If that is all, then we shall take our leave—”
The queen held up a hand. “Stay,” she implored. “Play for us. Sing for us. We have missed your music.”
“I’m afraid we must decline. I need to escort my companion back to the inn.”
She tutted. “Any companion of yours is more than welcome to join us. In fact, we would love to play with her and dress her in jewels and silks fit for a queen.” The Seelie Queen stood. “Yes, she must join us. We want to enjoy her company.”
Rhiannon dipped into a deep curtsy at Taliesin’s side. “I couldn’t possibly accept,” Rhiannon said. “I wouldn’t want to put you through so much trouble on my account.”
“It would be no trouble at all,” the queen said with a giggle. She stepped down from the dais and took Rhiannon’s hand. She had seemed so small in the chair, but now Rhiannon had to crane her neck to look the stately figure in the face. “You forget who you stand before. Spin for us.”
The Seelie Queen twirled Rhiannon then, and a shower of sparks rained over the princess’s head. Everywhere the glittering lights touched glowed and changed until she no longer wore a cloak over her nightgown. She now wore a gown finer than any she’d ever laid eyes upon, seemingly woven from starlight and rose petals. Gloves of luxurious silk wrapped her arms. A tiara of pearls crowned her head, and slippers of pure silver glittered on her feet. Her hair, too, had been wound with dozens of dazzling gemstones. A choker of diamonds hugged her throat and sprays of gems dangled from her ears.
The queen nodded to herself. “You look lovely,” she declared. “Fitting for our Taliesin.”
“Your Majesty...” Taliesin began, only for the queen to ignore him and lead Rhiannon to tables laden with a feast.
“Might we bring you a beverage?” cooed the queen. Rhiannon blinked. One moment, the queen was taller than her. The next, she was a little girl again. “Or some cake? I know! How about some spiced cider?”
“Your Majesty...” repeated Taliesin behind them.
The girl continued to ignore him. She poured a goblet and held it out to Rhiannon. “Here! Have some!”
Rhiannon accepted the goblet and took a tentative sip. The sweet and cinnamony taste filled her mouth as she expected, but there was more to it. A floral flavor, and something more she couldn’t describe that melted on her tongue. She pressed her hand to her lips. The queen grinned. “I take it that you find it acceptable?”
“It’s delicious. Thank you.”
“Would you care to join us for more?” Rhiannon nodded. “Wonderful.” Finally, the queen paid the bard some attention. “See? Your companion would like to join us for the festivities. Perhaps you will play for us now?”
Taliesin shook his head. “You are a tricky one, Your Highness. Very well, I shall play my best for all of you.” He gave a deep bow and opened the case Rhiannon only now realized he’d lugged all this way.
Around them became a flurry of colorful flowers as the Fair Folk danced and sang to the tune of Taliesin’s violin. He picked up the tempo, his bow practically sawing at the strings as the fairies whirled about. Rhiannon clapped along, smiling and laughing with the beautiful creatures eating and drinking at her side. A few of the smaller Fae poured a goblet, and two held the beverage up to her. She knelt to take it, but another hand snatched it before she could accept the offering.