Page 11 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

“Not—” he started, and Aisling finished the sentence with him: “specifically enough.”

When Rodney dropped her back off at her apartment, they both agreed to think about how best to approach the problem. But Rodney was cunning and tricky, whereas Aisling was not. Though his years in the human realm had degraded much of his knowledge, he still knew far more about the workings of the Wild than she did—and probably more than he was letting on.

The Brook Isle Public Library was a brick building, one of the island’s oldest. It had been a hospital once, then a school, but when both of those outgrew the space, it became a library. Pony walls had been installed to separate it into sections: fiction on the left,non-fiction on the right, and children’s books in the back. Two of the island’s three computers were set up on a table off to the side.

From the check-out desk in the center, Aisling could see all four corners of the room if she spun around in her chair. It smelled of bookbinder’s glue and old, yellowed pages. The tall, narrow windows that ran all the way up to the high ceiling let slants of light filter in that caught eddies of dust swirling lazily through the air.

It wasn’t a demanding job, nor was it terribly mentally stimulating, but she loved it all the same. It gave her time to read. To think. Sometimes, to sit still and quiet and do absolutely nothing at all. Briar loved it, too. He lay under the desk at her feet for most of the day and would occasionally walk a lap or two through the shelves to stretch his legs before returning to his post. He was a favorite fixture for the kids who visited during story time when she had a weekend shift.

Today, the library was quiet. An older couple browsed the mystery section and a young boy sat at one of the computers, but she hadn’t seen anyone else for several hours. When Rodney came in, he brought a blast of cool air with him. The front doors were large and unwieldy, and it took him a moment to wrestle one closed against the brisk autumn breeze. His eyes were shining with excitement as he approached.

“I have a plan,” he announced loudly. Aisling shushed him harshly and eyed the other patrons, but none of them had glanced over. “I have a plan,” he repeated in a whisper once he’d reachedthe desk.

Aisling stood and nodded for him to follow. She led him to the far corner of the non-fiction section. Briar ambled behind them. “What is it?”

“Nocturne.” Rodney was smug, obviously pleased with himself.

“Keep your voice down,” Aisling hissed. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Our talk about ceremonies and parties got me thinking about it. It’s a sort of holiday in the Unseelie Court, a big one. They host a celebration every year, open to all of their dominions. Usually it’s big enough that they don’t mind a well-meaning Solitary or two slipping in.”

“Solitary?” Her head was reeling. She’d heard the word before, from her mother, but couldn’t recall its meaning.

“Like me. Fae who aren’t aligned or ruled by one court or another. The Shadowwood Mother is a Solitary Fae as well. But that’s not the point.” He was speaking quickly. “The point is: the Nocturne celebration is our way in.”

“That’syourway in. They might not care about the Solitary, but I’m sure they won’t welcome a human.” They were using more Fae terms than Aisling was comfortable with throwing around in public. She poked her head around the side of the bookshelf they were positioned behind. The couple had left, and the boy was still distracted by the computer.

“I’ll glamour you. You’ll be one of us. A pixie, I was thinking.”

She almost laughed out loud before she shook her head. “That’s too risky, Rodney. For both of us.”

“It isn’t,” he insisted. “I’m good; my glamours are stronger than most. And it’s a few weeks away, so I’ll have time to practice.

“Weeks?That’s too long.” Though she would have balked if he’d said he’d take her tomorrow, the thought of sitting with this anxiety that had sunken into her gut like a stone in a river was almost just as bad.

He huffed a short breath through his nose. “That prophecy has been around for at least a century, Aisling. I think a few more weeks will be fine.”

“Say you’ve managed to weave me a flawless glamour and we’ve made it through the Thin Place. We’re at the celebration—now what?”

He cringed. “That’s the part you’re not going to like.”

“Rodney,” she said, her tone one of warning.

“We’ll need to get you in front of the king.” The pair jumped when the electronic shriek of the computer’s dial-up internet connecting pierced the quiet library. The boy in front of the screen ducked his head, embarrassed by his sudden disruption. Aisling rolled her eyes and the two settled back down between the shelves.

“And?” There was more to his plan; she could tell by the way he seemed to be preparing himself to deliver the rest.

“And bedding him will be the easiest way to work yourself into the Court.”

This time she did laugh. But he’d meant it, his delivery sharp and pragmatic. Clinical, even. Her face fell when he didn’t so much as crack a smile. “You can’t be serious.”

“Think about it Ash: no one just walks into the Unseelie Court, human or pixie or otherwise. The celebration will get you in the door, but from there you have to capture his attention. This will be the quickest way to do that.” His thin fingers picked absentmindedly at the frayed edges of a hole in his jeans as he spoke.

“Jesus, Rodney, do you hear what you’re saying?” she hissed, cheeks burning with a deep red blush. “I’m not going to fuck the Fae king!”

“I’ve seen him at these parties. At almost every single one, he gets drunk and leaves with one of the females there. This time, we make sure it’s you.”

Aisling’s blood boiled with rage and shame. In the span of just several days, she’d lost all control over her future. And now, her best friend was telling her to sleep her way into a Fae court. If they hadn’t been in the library, she’d be on her feet yelling at him. The best she could do here was to take a few deep breaths before speaking again in the same harsh whisper. “I won’t do it.”

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