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Authors: Emma L. Adams
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disarmed.
It was only when I reached Alain’s flat that I realised I’d just had a civilised conversation with two half-blooded faeries. This is so weird.
I braced myself to have to face her enraged half-troll boyfriend again, but when I rang the doorbell, nobody answered for a good five minutes. I fidgeted, catching glimpses of my reflection in the small window above the door. Every time, I had to remind myself the spell wasn’t permanent. I’d rather be mortal than half a faerie.
After I rang the doorbell for the third time, a voice said thickly, “Who is it?”
“Alain?” I asked uncertainly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I have something really important I need to talk to you about.”
A pause. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping that bloody half-troll wouldn’t answer the door. Instead, a golden haired young woman did. Alain. Like last time, she looked like she’d been crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hands trembling as she opened the door.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m really sorry about this, but I had to speak to—”
“Come in.”
I blinked. “Uh. Your boyfriend isn’t in there, is he?”
She burst into tears.
Whoa. I froze up. Call me insensitive, but I never have a clue how to deal with the waterworks. Especially coming from a half-faerie.
“What’s wrong?”
Alain sobbed into her hands. “He’s—he killed someone. I don’t want them to take me away.”
Oh. Shit. “He’s the murderer they caught?”
Between sobs, she nodded, backing into the hall. I’d followed her in before I could stop and question what I was doing. The hallway looked normal enough, but rather than unlocking the door to her flat, she pressed a finger to it and the door melted away. The sound of birdsong rang out, and I stopped to stare.
Her flat looked, in short, like an imitation of Summer Faerie territory grown into one room. Wild grass took the place of a carpet. Bright pink and purple flowers grew in every corner, while several drooping blooms formed a cage around three toadstools. She threw herself down on one of them, sobbing.
I’d have made her a cup of tea—well, that was Isabel’s way of dealing with a crisis—but the forested area covering the rest of her flat might hide anything. Hesitantly, I walked over and sat down on another of the toadstools. It was about as comfortable as it looked.
“Tell me what happened,” I said, as gently as possible.
“He—he went to the Trials. Then he came back and he was different. Angry. He went out, and I didn’t see him for days. Then… then I heard he’d been arrested for killing someone. I’m scared—they’ll blame me. Nobody’s talking to me. I—”
But that’s not true. I saw Alain in the vision. She’d known what he’d done. Sure, he was her boyfriend, so she might jump to his defence, but still.
“So he… wait. Where did you say he went before he came back changed?” I asked.
“The Trials,” she said.
“The Trials… I’ve not heard of them.”
Alain’s bloodshot eyes stared at me. “Who hasn’t heard of the Trials?”
“I’ve led a sheltered life,” I said.
She wiped her eyes. “Everyone knows. The winner of the Trials gets free passage into the Faerie Realm. They take place every night at twilight. I thought you were from there…” She squinted at me. “Weren’t you there on the first night?”
Whoa. Not legal. Or possible. Who the hell was making these promises?
An image flashed through my mind of a faerie warrior wearing Avakis’s armour. One who could walk through the worlds at will.
No. Velkas is dead.
Unless someone had decided to follow in his footsteps. He’d had help on this side of the veil. Maybe even from the half-faeries…
“Wait,” I said. “Where in the Faerie Realms?”
“Does it matter? All the realms are the same. You didn’t answer my question.”
No. They’re not the same . Half-blood territory played homage to Summer and Winter. They’d even thought Velkas was
It was only when I reached Alain’s flat that I realised I’d just had a civilised conversation with two half-blooded faeries. This is so weird.
I braced myself to have to face her enraged half-troll boyfriend again, but when I rang the doorbell, nobody answered for a good five minutes. I fidgeted, catching glimpses of my reflection in the small window above the door. Every time, I had to remind myself the spell wasn’t permanent. I’d rather be mortal than half a faerie.
After I rang the doorbell for the third time, a voice said thickly, “Who is it?”
“Alain?” I asked uncertainly. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I have something really important I need to talk to you about.”
A pause. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping that bloody half-troll wouldn’t answer the door. Instead, a golden haired young woman did. Alain. Like last time, she looked like she’d been crying. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hands trembling as she opened the door.
“Hey,” I said. “I’m really sorry about this, but I had to speak to—”
“Come in.”
I blinked. “Uh. Your boyfriend isn’t in there, is he?”
She burst into tears.
Whoa. I froze up. Call me insensitive, but I never have a clue how to deal with the waterworks. Especially coming from a half-faerie.
“What’s wrong?”
Alain sobbed into her hands. “He’s—he killed someone. I don’t want them to take me away.”
Oh. Shit. “He’s the murderer they caught?”
Between sobs, she nodded, backing into the hall. I’d followed her in before I could stop and question what I was doing. The hallway looked normal enough, but rather than unlocking the door to her flat, she pressed a finger to it and the door melted away. The sound of birdsong rang out, and I stopped to stare.
Her flat looked, in short, like an imitation of Summer Faerie territory grown into one room. Wild grass took the place of a carpet. Bright pink and purple flowers grew in every corner, while several drooping blooms formed a cage around three toadstools. She threw herself down on one of them, sobbing.
I’d have made her a cup of tea—well, that was Isabel’s way of dealing with a crisis—but the forested area covering the rest of her flat might hide anything. Hesitantly, I walked over and sat down on another of the toadstools. It was about as comfortable as it looked.
“Tell me what happened,” I said, as gently as possible.
“He—he went to the Trials. Then he came back and he was different. Angry. He went out, and I didn’t see him for days. Then… then I heard he’d been arrested for killing someone. I’m scared—they’ll blame me. Nobody’s talking to me. I—”
But that’s not true. I saw Alain in the vision. She’d known what he’d done. Sure, he was her boyfriend, so she might jump to his defence, but still.
“So he… wait. Where did you say he went before he came back changed?” I asked.
“The Trials,” she said.
“The Trials… I’ve not heard of them.”
Alain’s bloodshot eyes stared at me. “Who hasn’t heard of the Trials?”
“I’ve led a sheltered life,” I said.
She wiped her eyes. “Everyone knows. The winner of the Trials gets free passage into the Faerie Realm. They take place every night at twilight. I thought you were from there…” She squinted at me. “Weren’t you there on the first night?”
Whoa. Not legal. Or possible. Who the hell was making these promises?
An image flashed through my mind of a faerie warrior wearing Avakis’s armour. One who could walk through the worlds at will.
No. Velkas is dead.
Unless someone had decided to follow in his footsteps. He’d had help on this side of the veil. Maybe even from the half-faeries…
“Wait,” I said. “Where in the Faerie Realms?”
“Does it matter? All the realms are the same. You didn’t answer my question.”
No. They’re not the same . Half-blood territory played homage to Summer and Winter. They’d even thought Velkas was
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