Page 61 of Samhain

Shivers went down my spine as I imagined a terrible winged beast with claws and fangs and evil red eyes, hell-bent on devouring me and my beloveds. I wouldn’t let that happen, no matter what I had to do to stop it.

“Or worse yet, if she decides she does like you, you can never leave.” Smythe winced, perhaps remembering something terrible. “She’ll keep you and feed you ambrosia, so you stay as young as you are now.”

“Siobhan’s not the queen?” I asked. “Not Ashley?”

“Gods, no.” Smythe shook his head. “They’re pawns. Players. Ambassadors to the humans. At least, they used to be. I haven’t seen Siobhan in a long time. Ashley sold the pub and her house to go home after the king left.”

Lex and I exchanged hesitant looks. Ivy had mentioned a fairy king and queen, ancient beings capable of terrible power.

“Tell me about the king and queen,” Lex said. “Who are they? What are they like?”

Smythe bit his bottom lip. “Please, enough. I’ve already said too much. If they find out it was me, if they find out I said this?—”

“They won’t,” Lex said. “You have my word.”

I ignored my impulse to gawk at him because I didn’t see how he could promise that. We couldn’t even guarantee our own safety. There was a good chance this wild goose chase was going to lead us right into those woods, and once it did, I feared Smythe might be right. We may never come out again.

Smythe curled into himself as the weight of his confession brewed on his tongue, seemingly defeated by our arguments and show of force. “The queen looks favorably on the humans that live in Faerie. The king does not. They quarreled about it before the king left. But they’re dual spirits. One cannot exist without the other. The queen called her fae back to her kingdom to console her, all that weren’t banished.”

My heart ached for Smythe. It was quite obvious he missed his home, missed living among his fairy relatives. The fact that they had kicked him out made my stomach twist with what they might do to us, relative strangers compared to him. “Why’d they banish you?”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he dabbed them away, clearing his throat before saying, “I loved the wrong woman. The queen’s favorite.” He stole a heartbroken glance between Lex and me before dropping his gaze to the floor. “When the queen found out, she killed my beloved and cast me from the realm.” He cleared his throat and swallowed back a sob. “No one can touch her ladies without her permission. She might have allowed it had we asked, but we didn’t, and that is unforgivable.”

“That’s horrible,” I said, my heart twisting for him. “I’m sorry you went through that.”

He nodded and pulled himself together. “You both are marked, so I know you won’t heed what I’m about to tell you. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t say it anyway.” He darted his tearful, bloodshot eyes back and forth between us again. “If you go into those woods on Samhain, you are looking for trouble. If the king finds you, he’ll kill you. And if the queen finds you, she might keep you forever, even if you don’t like it.” He gave us one grim smile before sighing and turning to stuff his books in his leather messenger bag, muttering, “Whatever gift Siobhan gave you, you should learn to live with it. Leave the past in the past.”

“Thank you.” I nodded toward the door as if to suggest we leave, but Lex kept his suspicious gaze on Smythe.

“You know more,” Lex said. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Lex.” I grabbed his arm, trying to give Smythe a break. “C’mon. He’s already a mess.”

“Tell me,” Lex snarled, the power in his words almost bringing me to my knees.

Smythe balked and took a step back.

“Prepare yourself for what you might see there, Alexei,” he said. “The fairies aren’t happy pixies or glittery Disney princesses. These fairies will gut you and string up your insides for kabobs. They think of humans as thralls, something for entertainment. Humans and fae have a long, complicated history, and you’ve barely scratched the surface.”

This time, I managed to drag Lex from the room, shouting, “Thank you, Dr. Smythe,” over my shoulder as we went.

Smythe pressed his knuckles onto the table and hung his head between his shoulders, the weight of his regret nearly a tangible, visible thing. He shouldn’t have told us, and walking out of that room, part of me prickled for making him. I didn’t like it. But if it meant getting to the bottom of what was going on with us, how much of my conscience was I willing to risk?

18

Carter

Ivy and I asked around the pub, but no one had seen Ashley since she sold the place a year ago. Some said she disappeared into the woods and never came out. Others said they saw her drive away in her truck with all her stuff piled in the back. If no one had seen Ashley, they definitely hadn’t seen Siobhan.

“Three days ago, you say?” one of the locals asked, shaking his gray head. “Well, if you find her, you tell her ole Bertie’s looking for her, yeah? She still owes me a pint for that Manchester bet she lost.”

We went by the local library, but that was a hole in the wall compared to the one at the university. When that failed, we grabbed a coffee to help with the jet lag.

“If we don’t find anything else,” Ivy said, sitting at the circular table outside a cafe, “we’ll go by the university library tomorrow.”

I slumped into the seat next to her and sighed. For someone who’d been gifted with luck, it certainly didn’t seem like the odds were in my favor that afternoon, not until the waitress came over to take our order.

“Oh my God,” she said, her eyes widening. “You’re Carter Scott.”

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