Page 14 of Wicked Things

“No, please. I can do that,” I said, but she simply smiled and kept on doing what she’d started out to do.

“Such lovely hair,” she said, and poured a bit more sweet-smelling oil in her hands. She was massaging that into my scalp and taming the curls I could see hanging down across my shoulders. Frankly, it simply felt way too good to keep asking her to stop. When she finished, she handed me a hand mirror and what I saw there was like something out of a dream.

My face was no longer my own. A complete stranger looked back out of the mirror at me, his mouth a round “O” of surprise. I touched the exquisite face of this stranger to see if I could feel it, and of course, I could. He was me. I pulled at my skin to see if it were some kind of mask but only hurt myself needlessly and stopped again.

Instantly, I remembered the looks of shock on the faces of the soldiers after we came through the portal and King Fionn saying, “The men are amazed by the way you look since you passed through the portal…you look different now.”

They had been amazed? It was nothing as to the way I was feeling. I stared into the mirror so long that the Faery woman eventually got up, said, “Good evening, sir,” and walked out the door.

I might have sat there all night, looking in the mirror, like poor Narcissus, cursed by a Roman goddess to be so entranced with his own reflection in a pool that he stared at himself until he died. Except the door to my room opened a few minutes later, startling me as male courtiers came in, carrying trays. They stood on either side of me as I put down the hand mirror, offering me food that smelled incredible, though I could see no meat at all, nor fish either. There were warm quiches with chunks of creamy yellow cheese, and slices of warm, fresh bread, dripping with butter. There were vegetables too, several kinds of them, prepared with skill and care—some were sauteed in oil, some were boiled in water and butter, and a few were prepared with a cream sauce that was beyond delicious. I ate so much of that sauce that it made my stomach hurt.

Perhaps I should have been too shocked and overwhelmed to eat, but I was young and starving, and I fell on the food right away. In fact, I ate way too much and drank an entire goblet of the most delicious wine I’d ever had. And then I filled my glass again. It was said that Faeries ate goblin fruit and made their wines from it. Once a human tasted goblin fruit, people said no other fruit or wine would ever do again. I began to believe it must be true.

There were plenty of old stories about humans taken by Faeries and making the mistake of eating or drinking something they were given, and then never being able to leave again. I wondered for a fleeting moment if I believed that, and if I did, should I refrain from eating any more food or drink offered to me.

But I was far too hungry for that. And after the day I’d had, and what I’d seen in the last few hours, I seriously needed to drink.

When I had eaten my fill and drank much more than was good for me, I decided I might as well take Fionn’s example and go to bed. There was nothing else to do anyway but sit and brood over my “misfortune.” But it was silly to consider that while I was sitting in this beautiful room, full of delicious food and wine. It was not a hardship. Avoiding the hand mirror again like it was a venomous snake, I climbed into bed, sunk into the soft mattress and pulled the padded, satin coverlet over me. The wine soon did its job, and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Chapter Six

I awoke the next morning as the servants came in bringing me breakfast in bed, which was so outside of anything I’d ever experienced before that I was absolutely speechless. The servants propped pillows behind me to help me sit up and spread my napkin across my lap so I wouldn’t spill anything on myself or on the beautiful, snowy white sheets.

I was too stunned to say much as they heaped the plate on my tray with spiced eggs and more goblin fruit and wine, along with something called “sop” which I’d heard of but had never tasted. It was crusty white bread soaked in the goblin wine. I made a little face at the consistency of it and pushed it aside. But I did ask for some of the white bread with some butter to eat along with my eggs. Again, I noticed that again no meat or fish was served. I didn’t miss it—my grandmother didn’t care for meat and rarely, if ever, ate it or even fish, so I had grown up mostly without it. They also offered me something they called “ambrosia,” that was quite delicious. I ate what I could of the enormous meal the servants had brought me and had just pushed my plate away as King Fionn came into my room.

I jumped to my feet and bowed. “Lord King…”

“I came to see how you were. I trust you slept well.”

“Yes, I did …thank you.”

“I’ll have the servants find you some clothes. The things you wore here aren’t suitable.”

“But I… Lord… I mean, Your Grace, won’t you please tell me why you brought me here? I-I really would like to go back home. In fact, I-I demand you take me.”

He had the nerve to look amused. “This is your home now, Braden.” He took a step toward me and put a finger under my chin to raise my eyes to look at him.

“You’re not in a position to make demands of me.” He continued to stare at me until I lowered my eyelashes over my eyes. He pulled his finger away then and smiled, patting me on the cheek.

“And besides, I have work to do. I’ve been away for several days with this business.” He hadn’t said the words unkindly, exactly, but I was still bothered.

“But what business? I have no idea why you’ve brought me here in the first place, sir. I don’t belong in this place. And won’t you please tell me what happened to my uncle Leofric?”

“So many questions. First of all, it’s not required of you to know why you’re here. At least not yet. Secondly, you were born in this realm, so I struggle to see how you ‘don’t belong here.’ And I have no idea what happened to your uncle. I didn’t know you had one until you brought him up. Now listen to me—later today, there will be a kind of reception or party that you’ll be attending. Until then, you can rest quietly here.”

“A party? But what kind of party?”

He totally ignored my question and simply turned on his heel to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and glanced back at me. “How much do you know about your natural father? Did your mother tell you anything about him at all?”

“No, not really. She once told my grandmother he was a Faery king, but no one believed her and that was about it. Do you know who my father was? Did he have something to do with you bringing me here?”

“Yes,” he replied, as he opened the door and walked through it, leaving me to seethe with frustration and anger.

“I have a right to know about my father!” I shouted after him. “Does he even know about me or where I am?” But he had closed the door firmly behind him, ignoring me.

The servants left me alone for a few hours after that, and when I tried the door, it was securely locked. They returned with the tub again later and more of the steaming buckets of scented water. Again, I was stripped and dunked and scrubbed until my skin was pink all over, and then they sat me down by the fire again, wrapped in a robe to wait for my hair to dry.

In a short while, a courtier came in with an assortment of clothing that he hung in a wardrobe or folded to put inside a chest at the foot of my bed. He came toward me with a stack of clothing in his arms and motioned for me to rise.