A Thief of Nightshade(72)
“Actually, I think he’s right. I won’t be there with you. Ian will be. He should hold onto the Oran.”
Even Ian seemed taken aback by Aislinn’s sudden congeniality.
Aubrey
fingered
the
necklace
thoughtfully before reaching reluctantly for the clasp. If Oberon and Aislinn trusted him, she supposed she ought to as well.
“Please be careful with it. It’s all I have left of him.” She handed it to Ian.
He dropped it into a pouch at his belt. “It’ll be safe. Trust me.”
Aubrey swallowed hard and forced herself to smile back at the Fae.
“Once Jullian is crowned,” Aislinn began, “the former King will die. Then, little by little, Jullian’s life will drain away and fuel the Queen’s immortality.
You remember what the Madame said about waking him up ... we either have to find a way to snap Jullian out of his trance, or ... sway the Lyr from doing Saralia’s bidding. Maybe when he sees you, touches you, it’ll be enough to wake him.”
The reality of Jullian not recognizing Aubrey hadn’t sunken in until that moment.
She knew that he didn’t know who he was, but to word it in such a way and to think about it in such an intimate context was almost too much to bear.
Oberon wasn’t in the habit of traveling without his Griffin attendants, nor was he accustomed to the kind of travel magic afforded him, but this was different. This required his vulnerability, whether he liked it or not. And so, the moment Aubrey, Ian and Aislinn had departed for the Winter Court, Oberon had left on a brief journey of his own, the second in as many days. This time, he journeyed to the court of Man in the city of Rheavon.
There, he would meet with King Alexander and Tabor, who had been summoned to join them. Oberon felt it, the upcoming shift in their alliances, and whether they knew it or not, Man was about to find himself at yet another crossroads. Oberon prayed they would make the right choice this time and help him make amends for the sins he had committed in the past.
The Winter Court in the Valley of Neath, with its glasslike spires and iridescent framework, was beautiful beyond words.
Ian seemed untouched by its splendor and as soon as they’d stopped, he got right to the business of telling Aislinn where to go to await their return, but Aubrey couldn’t stop staring.
“You get used to it,” Ian said.
Aislinn pulled Aubrey into a literal bear hug and whispered into her ear, “I won’t be far behind you, no matter what that airbag says. Be safe. I’ll be watching.” Then, wordlessly, he left them alone.
“Used to ... all of this? How? It’s...”
Ian looked off, something unreadable in his expression. “It’s not what it appears.”
“I’ve been hearing that a lot these days.” She took out the potion and after taking a deep breath, she drank what remained in the bottle. Seconds later, she was enveloped in warmth and light. When the light faded, she looked down to see that she was clothed in a gorgeous purple ball gown, complete with feathered headdress and purple gloves. When she reached to feel her face, she realized that she wore a partial mask.
“You have wings,” Ian breathed.
“Sidhe wings.”
“I’ll blend in, won’t I?”
Ian didn’t say anything at first, his eyes roaming over her shoulders, where she assumed he could see her newly acquired appendages. “Yes. They’ll wonder why I’m with you, but yes.”
“Why would they wonder ... is it because you look different? I think it’s a gift.”
Ian didn’t seem to have any idea what she was talking about.
“You can shape-shift, while the others can’t. Are they jealous?”
Ian laughed at this, and Aubrey got the feeling that perhaps it was the other way around. The Fae confirmed it with his next sentence. “No, the Sidhe look down on us because we aren’t as ... beautiful as they are.”
“In my world, beings with wings like yours are adored. They’re called angels and some humans believe they each have what they call a guardian angel who stands watch over them throughout their life ... an unseen protector.”
“If they knew of the Sidhe, they would have chosen them instead.”
“Faeries are depicted in our world, but they’re considered nothing more than children’s imaginings ... make-believe.
Despite the fact that neither angels nor faeries truly exist in my world, a handful of adults believe in faeries. But countless others believe in angels. You can’t go anywhere, practically, where there isn’t a painting or sculpture of an angel. In the faith I grew up in, we said prayers to some of the angels. They had rank, like you, and led armies, like you.”
She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to tell him all of this, but it tumbled out and as she saw the expression lighten on his face, she was grateful that she had.
“Children’s tales?” he asked.
“Yes.
Archangel
Michael
and
Archangel Gabriel are leaders of God’s divine forces, while the most famous faerie is merely a child’s plaything that only grants wishes and makes people fly with faerie dust. Michael and Gabriel were sainted by the church. My brother...”
She was about to say that her brother wore a necklace with Saint Michael on it, but drew a blank on everything else about him, including his name.