Guinevere's Grail | ✓ [BOOK 2]

~ 8 ~

"I've got a pair," said Astyr, slipping a pair of long gloves from her satchel. She'd been prepared thus far, Kit shouldn't have been shocked when she had what they needed on hand once again.

The princess took them with a trembling hand and slid them on. This was a risk none of them wanted to take, but it was a necessary one. They had to take a lot of risks lately, this would be no different.

But why did it have to be Giselle?

"It'll be okay," she whispered, examining the gloves and their perfect fit. "We'll figure this out. We always do."

* * *

The Faerie Fever. That's what Astyr called it when she first arrived. It starts out as a mild illness--high temperature, sore throat, dry mouth. But the dry would never go away. Humans needed water to survive, but the Sídhe were closer to nature than that. They needed water even more, and the disease rejected it.

It started with sweat. They would sit there in pools of it until their body had no water left. Every time they drank more, it would come back out somehow. The next stage was tears. Rivers of tears to push out all the moisture. The Fever forced a faery's body to reject the thing needed to sustain life--their bodies killed themselves like prisoners refusing food.

At the worst of it, the skin cracked. For Morgana, he was left with scars. But for everyone else, it progressed too fast to stop, and it cracked them apart until they shattered completely.

Kit couldn't get it, and still, he was afraid. Clearly, so was everyone else.

The Vernal Palace was dreary. Plants were wilted and gates were shut and spiked, denying the entrance of any outsiders. The skies, once blue and sunny, were now overcast and sad. Rain was the sadder side of spring no one wanted to think about, but it was still there, and the Vernal Court was weeping.

"We have the Princess," Selene said as she approached the gates. "We request access."

"There are two outsider Sídhe among you," the guard replied. "The rest may enter, but the Unseelies must stay out."

Morgana motioned to his face. "I've had it before, I'm immune, as is my mother."

"We just got here from the human realm," Giselle continued. "Astyr is the only one who's been here since the start of this but she can't get it."

The guard considered this. "Very well," he murmured. "No one else may enter after this, no exceptions."

Giselle curtsied. "Thank you," she said when the gates opened, hinges groaning with the weight of the iron.

"You lot sure do enjoy iron considering you're allergic," Kit muttered, eyes scanning the tall gates as he passed. He heard Morgana laugh at his side, which took him by surprise.

The Queen was already rushing to greet her daughter, meeting them halfway across the bridge. She paid no mind to precautions, sweeping the princess up into her arms.

"I've been so worried," she murmured into Giselle's lilac curls. "Never go to war without my knowledge again, please. How did you survive?"

"Mab," Giselle told her.

The Queen stiffened and pulled back, brows knitting in disbelief. "The Unseelie Queen? She helped you?"

"She saved us, mother, I don't know how we would've made it out without her." Giselle took her hands. "How are things here? Are we alright?"

"No one here is sick," she said. "We're not letting anyone in or out, and we aren't accepting gifts or trades. This disease is vicious, child."

Her eyes settled on Morgana, and everyone else's followed. The Unseelie didn't cower under their gazes like Kit expected, he just looked sorrowful.