He tells me he loves me. I know that the fae do not love in the way that we do, but he seems sincere. I do not know what this means.
Faye stalked through the village scowling. Lyr had treated her like an errant daughter, and it rankled. Yes, he was technically her father, but he hadn’t been a father in any of the important ways. He hadn’t helped her with her homework, or read her bedtime stories, or taken her to the park. He wasn’t there when she was ill, and he wasn’t there when Moddie died, leaving Faye to run the shop on her own. Lyr was a father in blood only, and clearly, blood was all he cared about.
She heard him behind her and increased her pace, but she was no match for him. Lyr strode past her easily and stopped her with one hand on her shoulder. She shook it off.
‘Leave me alone,’ she muttered.
‘No, Faye. I apologise for my anger. We do not know each other, and it was inappropriate,’ he rumbled. ‘Please. Come back and we will talk. I was angry. I did not expect it…to have gonethis far. I can get you into Murias to find your friend. I have no love for Finn or Levantiana, so it will be my pleasure to deny them a human follower. And…’ He broke off and looked away. ‘There is much magic to be learned here, too, child. As a daughter of Falias it is your birthright.’
‘Maybe I don’t want to learn your magic,’ she scoffed, but she was lying. Being back in the fae realm – even one as different to Murias as this – was intoxicating. The power of the fae ran in her veins, and this place shone with an immanent glow of power. The faerie part of her felt at home here; the faerie part of her wanted to know it intimately. Perhaps he’d read her mind just now. Perhaps he felt the sorrow she did when she thought about everything he could have taught her: all the power he could have helped her to gain, without her having to resort to dangerous bargains with the Queen of Murias.
‘That is your choice,’ Lyr said quietly.
Faye shrugged. ‘You haven’t told me what you want from me yet.’ She spoke clearly into the strange air, watching three fae children play a game, dropping sticks into a gurgling stream that wound between the houses. It could have been her; perhaps she could have lived half her life here in Falias, learning the crafts of the fae; listening to Lyr’s deep rumble as he laughed, as he showed her which crystals could be found where in the faerie forest. Half here, and half in Abercolme, like a truesidhe-leth.
But that had been denied her, by Lyr as well as Moddie and Grandmother, in their way.
‘Come back to the dwelling, and I will tell you what I require,’ Lyr answered testily.
‘No. Tell me now,’ she insisted, and stood her ground. The faerie king glared at her. ‘I told you my secret. Now, you know. You know everything. Tell me.’
‘And I rid you of the curse, do not forget.’ He breathed out and gave her a searching look. ‘Fine. Then what I require as yourside of the bargain is a human woman to bear my children and be my mate. You will know of someone, I’m sure. Fear not, they will not be mistreated, and I am a generous king to those who please me. In times past, I would go into your world and find my own lovers, find strong women to bear my children. But the war has weakened me. I need a mate to revive my ardour.’
‘No!’ Faye exclaimed, horrified. How could Lyr ask her to deceive another woman, to assign her to the same fate as herself?
‘You asked what my side of the bargain was. That is it.’
‘It’s intolerable. I won’t do it,’ she spat. ‘I can’t believe you’d ask me.’
‘It is what I want,’ he repeated. ‘Just bring me the woman.’
‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Faye replied. She felt exhausted; it was all too much. Her feelings about Lyr. Her childhood memories. The exhaustion of the curse. She hadn’t known Levantiana’s twisted intentions for her baby-yet-to-be when she’d made their bargain. She wouldn’t be sucked into such an agreement again.
‘The woman will be treated with every care and luxury my realm allows.’ Lyr shook his head. ‘I told you: of all the realms, mine is the one most intimately associated with your kind, and I am fond of humans beyond all the other faerie kings and queens.’ Lyr stepped aside to let the children run past, whooping and shouting excitedly in their game.
‘You have to tell me what you want the woman for,’ Faye insisted.
‘As you wish,’ he sighed. ‘A human woman will revive me. As the faerie magic enlivens humans when they are here, the balance between our races means that we also feed on human energy. And, I need a new heir. I have my full-blood faerie son, Luathas. He will soon command my faerie legions in battle. But it is too risky to have him in the field, so I would have a half-fae child, a boy, who I could substitute for him. If he is half human,he will have the physical endurance and strength of a human as well as his fae abilities. He just needs to be dark, like Luathas and me.’
‘No!’ Faye cried. ‘It’s just not right.’ She was disappointed – in Lyr and all of them. None of them had an honest reason for wanting any contact with humans; every time, it was to get something they wanted. And they seemed to have no conscience about it at all.
‘Then I cannot help you rescue your friend from Murias.’ Lyr frowned. ‘And you have seen what happens to the lovers of the fae there.’
‘Then I’ll find another way.’
‘You will do what you will, Faye Morgan,’ Lyr replied wearily. ‘Remember my offer. It is the only way you can return without acquiescing to Finn Beatha and undoing everything you have done so far.’ Lyr took a wooden wand from his leather belt and drew a circle on the dry earth floor. Inside it, he scratched a symbol, something Faye didn’t recognise. ‘Lest you forget your friend,’ he said, and blew on the dust.
The dirt made way for something else; for a moment, a hole tunnelled down through the earth. Faye glimpsed roots and stone and strata of old earth. Immediately, it was replaced with something like a mirror or a glass, though it seemed to grow within the space like a translucent mushroom. In it, it was hard to make out what she saw; the picture was distorted, as if she looked through a magnifying glass or circus mirror.
The room she was looking into was dark, the edge of the picture faded and rounded into blackness. Dim yellow light flickered against shapes in the shadow.
‘Aisha?’ Faye squatted down and peered into the magic mirror, if that was what it was. ‘Is that Aisha? Where is she? It’s dark. I can’t see anything.’
‘Look closer.’ Lyr’s voice was dispassionate.
Whatever the room was, she hadn’t seen anything like it when she’d been in Murias. Gone were the golden balustrades and luxurious, heavy tapestries; in this room, there were no faerie musicians playing a merry jig.
Four figures slumped against rough stone walls. A small fireplace of sorts in the corner illuminated rusty chains that shackled their wrists to the rock with a dim orange glow. One figure turned its face up, as if reaching for light or oxygen, and Faye recognised her friend.
