Page 21 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

The rest will be but wasted here

Nae final words will reach my ear

For I’m a’ goin’, gone

Toss yer thistleon the ground

Lift thy eyes and turn ye ‘round

From me ye’ll ne’er hear a sound

For I’m a’ goin’, gone

Oh, I’m a’ goin’, gone

Now kissmy lips and let me go

The time has come, dear, let me go

For I’ve a fairer place to go

I’m a’ goin’, goin’, gone

The guests puttheir hands over their hearts and pounded in an odd, muffled form of applause. Archer thanked them with a nod.

A wet-eyed Griffon handed me a handkerchief and pressed a kiss to the side of my head. I dabbed carefully at my face, trying to save as much of my makeup as possible. My tears hadn’t been for Daphne, but at least some of them had been for Archer, Griffon, and Bridie, who truly mourned her.

Archer led his weepy mother into the large living room, and Griffon and I followed. The stone fireplace was dark now, and the furniture had disappeared to make room for guests. The daylight was long gone. Nothing to filter through the leaves. Instead, dozens and dozens of small lights moved around on the low branches like lanterns being carried by little fairies trying to spy on the party.

And when the lights moved, so did the shadows below, which made me question my eyesight.

There, in the surreal clearing, we acted as a reception line so everyone could have a word with the family. Someone short caught my eye and I watched for another glimpse. It was Cré, the fairy in green, carrying a platter of food. Her gown was adorned with shiny strands of ivy, each hem and seam bracketed with the little green leaves.

Griffon followed my gaze and gave my arm a squeeze to let me know he was paying attention.

“They look like the fairies in Sleeping Beauty,” I said into his ear.

“Who do you think inspired Disney?”

I swatted his arm. “You’re so full of it.”

His chuckle was confession enough. As a distant clock chimed eight, we watched Blath carry a tray of empty glasses toward the kitchen. Her pink dress was trimmed with darker pink flowers that matched the patches on her cheeks. She glanced around and when our eyes met, her face flushed pinker still. Then she scurried away.

“Blath, Cré, Farrig, Goy. Odd names, aren’t they?”

“Just old ones.”

Murmurs and gasps ran from one end of the room to the other, and we turned toward the dining room to see what was going on. Two men walked beneath arched branches that delineated the spaces. One was Muddy, whose face was much darker than before my eyes had been opened. He also had a pair of horns on his head that lay flat along the sides of his skull, making his pale hair stand out even more.

He'd changed into dark robes—or maybe they’d been robes I’d been blind to. But Muddy was instantly forgotten when I realized who his taller friend was.

Golden curls hung against his head like short cornrows. Though the subdued light of the room left it no brighter than twilight, Orion’s face radiated with what I could only guess was life force. He was…beautiful. I hadn’t been able to see it before, but now that my eyes were open…

He hadBeauty, and he’d kept it for himself!

My heart staggered with relief. Wickham hadn’t killed the Fae King. Orion had!

7

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