Take thee a bairn for the rest of its life –
Midsummer, Midsummer, Midsummer delight;
go to the faeries on Midsummer night.’
Finn sang the old song, and Faye shivered. She’d never even considered, as a child on the beach with Grandmother, that the song might have some truth in it.
‘That’s brutal. Who would give a baby away? Or go willingly themselves?’ she demanded, appalled.
Finn shrugged again and wiped the juice from his chin. ‘Different times take different meanings. The babies, sometimes people would leave us an ailing one in the woods. It would die if it stayed in your world. We could take it and raise it in the faerie kingdom, then use it to strengthen our stock when it was old enough.’
‘Stock?’ Faye wrapped herself in a silky throw from the end of the bed; an unconscious gesture to somehow protect herself from the truth. Because itwasthe truth; she knew it, instinctively.
‘Sometimes, the faerie realm sickens without good stock from the outside to make us strong. And we need to be strong, especially when we are at war.’
‘What is this war? You mentioned it before, but I…I was so tired that I fell asleep, and when I woke, we…’ She broke off, blushing.
‘There are four faerie realms: Murias, of which I am king, Falias, Gorias and Finias. We are the four elemental kingdoms: earth, air, fire and water. In the days when the balance was kept with the human world, we were at peace. The elements were in balance. But we have lost our balance with the human world – in the years since it has decided to rape and pillage and infect the land and the waters with its vile pollution, and in the years when the witches have forgotten their promises to make offerings, keep our sacred spaces and observe the seasonal rites – and the four kingdoms have come to conflict over one question.’
‘What is that question?’ she asked fearfully.
Finn regarded her solemnly for a moment. ‘The question of whether we still try to build bridges with humans, or whether we raze them to the ground, once and for all,’ he said finally. ‘Falias and Gorias believe that there is no hope left in humanity, and that the balance no longer deserves to be kept. They believe that a new age of faerie is upon us: one where the fae reign supreme, and all humans will become extinct.’
19
‘Extinct?’ Faye echoed him, in shock.
‘Destroyed,’ Finn said, expressionless.
‘But…you can’t do that. There are billions of humans on the planet. Nuclear weapons. Technology. Chemical weapons. You can’t just…exterminate everyone,’ she protested. The very idea was ridiculous.
‘If I wanted to, dear Faye, I could wipe out every single human with a snap of my fingers,’ Finn said, placing his finger under her chin and tilting her head up to meet his eyes, which gleamed. ‘I command the seas and the oceans. If I will it, tidal waves of such vast proportions you could not even imagine would rise up and flood the land. No one would be spared.’ He stared down into her wide eyes for a moment, then let go of her chin. ‘And, there would be no foe for humans to perceive or attack. The fae will not come to war on horseback or in tanks. We simply command the elements, and the elements are more deadly than you know.’
‘This can’t be true. I can’t believe…’ she began, trying to take in what he was saying, and failing.
‘Believe it, my sweet one. Any one of my fellow kings or queens could rain down fire and raise volcanoes, kill with tornadoes or break and decimate human populations with earthquakes. Do not doubt our power. Presently, the only thing preventing the realms of earth and air from enacting the utter destruction of the human race are the kingdoms of Murias and Finias. Water and fire.’
‘Why do you…why do you think we should be saved?’ Faye asked, terrified at what Finn had just told her. Humanity was unwittingly poised on a precipice of destruction, and it seemed that there was nothing she or anyone could do, if that was what the fae decided.
And she believed him. This wasn’t just some delusional, made-up fantasy belonging to some guy she’d met and had a one-night stand with. Faye knew now beyond doubt that she was in the faerie realm of Murias, and that Finn was the king.
If that was true, then she had to believe that what he was telling her was, too.
‘Finias and Murias believe that we need to maintain the balance with the human world. That is the old way, and the best way. If we lose humans altogether, we will also die: this is what Falias and Gorias fail to understand. They do not fully appreciate how much the fae realms have always needed humans for stock. Interbreeding. Humans may be a blight on our natural world, but we still need them. Our best bet is to re-educate humans about the balance. And if we cannot do that, enslave humans.’
Finn delivered this in such a matter-of-fact tone that it shocked Faye. ‘Enslave us?’ she repeated.
‘Yes,’ he said, standing up and walking to the window that overlooked the vast waterfall. ‘But not you, dear Faye. You have a different destiny. You need not worry about becoming a slave. Other than for pleasure.’ He gave her that slow, maddening smile.
‘Enslaving the human race is still a horrific idea, even if it doesn’t apply to me.’ She stood up and joined him at the window. ‘What would humans do, as slaves? Slavery is inhuman. Evil.’
‘You have no argument from me. But we are fae. We are not human. We do not operate with your…’ He snapped his fingers, as if he was trying to remember the word. ‘Yourmorality.’
He said it with such a sneering tone that she felt mortified she had ever kissed him, ever done the things that the fae creatures had watched and found pleasurable.
‘You would take them as lovers, like me?’ Her heart sank at the thought that Finn might have brought other women just like her to his bed. It was easy for him to enchant a human woman. They were weak and pliable, unresisting. Like she had been. Like she was.
She refused to meet his eyes. She wanted to cry. She was just the latest in a long line of women plucked from her world to please a bored king. No, not just a woman. Something else; a new identity that she would have to explore. She was half fae – a mongrel. A bitch. A whore.What am I? Who am I?
