Page 35 of The Courting of Bristol Keats
“We haven’t been able to locate the door so far,” Madame Chastain continued, “because the door, of course, is invisible, as most portals are.”
Bristol’s back pressed tighter against the chair slats.
Invisible?Like the one she leapt through to come here?Bristol didn’tdoinvisible.
The other recruits were nodding.
Their unique features now took on new meaning for her—the nubs of horns sprouting from Sashka’s black curls; her silky butterfly blue skin; Julia’s vertical pupils; Avery’s crown of twigs and moss that grew from her wheat-colored hair. Even the two recruits who had no telling fae features—Rose, the pianist, and Hollis, the teacher—nodded with the others. They all shared an understanding of who they were and what this world was.
Bristol’s toes curled in her shoes. Of course they were nodding. They belonged here. They didn’t balk at every mention of things like hidden talents and invisible doors.
She wished she had taken a seat at the back of the hall. She wasn’t a gymnast, a scholar, or a champion. When she wasn’t taking orders behind a counter, mopping up spilled beer, or settling the occasional bar fight, she delivered pizza on a bike in a small town, her life on perpetual hold, halfway between dreams and reality as she tried to keep her sisters afloat. Her connection to the fae world was loose at best—a father who had tumbled in as a toddler and hadn’t belonged there, either.
She hadn’t even been able to make it through the first portal into Elphame without fainting. Embarrassment clutched her. What wild notion ever made Eris, Tyghan, or even Madame Chastain think Bristol could find and close an invisible door that even they couldn’t find? And maybe most important—
Hollis, the teacher from Seattle, voiced the question forming in Bristol’s head. It reassured her that, maybe, these recruits were novices in this world, too. “What’s so terrible about this door that you need it closed? And why would we be able to do it?”
The High Witch stepped out from behind the lectern. “I’m glad you asked. First, we must go back to the beginning.”
And then the lesson began in earnest.
Her hand swept outward in a circular motion and, in the same instant, a cold churning mist crawled across the floor, swallowing up table legs, the recruits, and even most of Madame Chastain. It rolled up the walls and across the distant ceiling as she continued to speak. Bristol stilled, mesmerized as figures emerged from the mist. Gods, Madame Chastain called them, and as she spoke, they continued to fill the room, walking past Bristol and the others, their ancient story playing out around them.
“When the creator Danu sent her children into the world to gather knowledge, she first sent them to the four mystical islands of Fálias, Gorias, Murias, and Findias to be trained by the most brilliant poets, philosophers, crafters, and sorcerers. These mages schooled Danu’s children in the sciences, arts, magics, and the powerful wisdoms of the earth and stars.”
Bristol watched as a young god transformed another into a swan, and another god made a plain river rock in her palm explode with light, each spark becoming a star in the heavens.
“When Danu’s children were equal to their teachers, they were sent off with treasures to help them in their new lives. From Falias came the Stone of Destiny, to declare new queens and kings to govern their realm. From Gorias came the Spear of Lugh, which made the bearer prevail in battle. From Findias came the Sword of Light, which delivered only mortal blows. And from Murias came the Cauldron of Plenty, so Danu’s children would never go hungry.
“But there was a fifth treasure, created by the mother goddess herself, the only talisman of creation, the Eye of Danu, a golden needle Danu gave to her beloved daughter, Brigid, so she could thread a path from one world into another. A portal.”
Bristol watched the goddess lead the others through a gray mist to a rocky shore, where they set to work, plowing, gathering herbs, and building their new lives.
“But the world was also inhabited by sea gods, and war came. Battles were won, blood was shed, again and again, until the gods grew weary of fighting.”
Bristol watched, riveted as the gods gathered around a campfire, warming their hands. She felt the fire’s heat on her cheeks.
More come, Brigid said.Mortals, this time. I hear their oars strumming the water. They will be here soon.
We are ready, Dagda answered. He nodded at Brigid, for they had already set a plan.
I am weary of spilling blood, Nuada said.
We must fight this one last time, Dagda told him,or they will not think it an honorable victory and will hound us into the next world. Let the mortals’ eyes be veiled with victory this time, so they will not see our deception.
Bristol sat, fascinated, as she watched it unfold.A trick, a con.
“The battle went as planned,” Madame Chastain continued, “the mortals claiming victory, along with the land above the earth—then sentenced the gods to live beneath it. But the gods were not to be banished to rabbit holes. Brigid used the Eye of Danu to divide the worlds, the first reserved for them and other magical beings, and a portal to a second world for the mortals to dwell in. Peace would be found at last.
“The gods’ world grew in strength, beauty, and knowledge, no longer marred by the tides of war. Later, when they were called home to the Land of Promise by Danu, Brigid pricked her finger with Danu’s needle and held a drop of blood to the lips of three babies in the village.These daughters and their daughters to come will have the power as I do, to navigate between worlds, to create portals, and to close them. The power granted to me by my mother, Danu, I pass to them and to no others.
“When they departed, the gods only left behind the Cauldron of Plenty and the Stone of Destiny. Over the centuries, those bloodmarked by Brigid multiplied and spread throughout Elphame, creating portals for anyone who requested one, until finally, portals were so plentiful that mortals stumbled into the fae world as often as if it were their own. Troubles began anew. To solve the problem, the twelve kingdoms of Elphame gathered and agreed that all but one hundred portals should be closed, and no new ones opened for the well-being of all. Thus it remained for generations. There was no use for Brigid’s bloodmarked anymore, and their gift faded away.”
The mist receded. The walls, the floors, all as they were.
“So there are no bloodmarked left?” Sashka asked.
“There is definitely one,” Madame Chastain replied. “The Darkland monster is the last known bloodmarked, and though King Kormick denies it, he uses the monster to terrorize Elphame into submission, in anticipation of the upcoming Choosing Ceremony.”
