Tamani didn't like the slight rise at the corner of her lips; anything that made Mischa de Lila happy was worth worrying about.
"I have indeed," she said, not expounding on the foretelling. "Please, come inside."
Tamani glanced around the circle of older fae, feeling much like an insect invited to dine on the leaves of a flytrap. "Can't we talk here?"
She waved her hand as if the other faeries didn't matter at all. "We'll have a meeting later. You come with me now." She started up a dark earthen path and paused when Tamani didn't follow. "Scared?"
"Absolutely."
She held his gaze for a long moment, lips pursed in a disconcertingly mothering fashion. "I suspect you can help me as much as I can help you. So I wouldn't want you harmed in any way. Come, now."
It wasn't Mischa's words that goaded him into following his old friend's exiled mother into her home, but the way the other Unseelie were regarding him—their expressions unmistakably communicating that he'd have to be a half-wit to miss the chance in front of him. They were probably right. He grumbled under his breath, but he followed.
Mischa's house was bright and spartan, clean with a few colorful decorations to draw the eye. She gestured him to a wicker chair, and the soil beneath his feet was rich and fragrant. It was odd to feel so comfortable in this traitor's presence. But when she offered him a carved wooden cup of Goddess-knew-what, he held up a hand and shook his head.
"I believe there's an old human rule about being trapped in a faerie ream if you eat or drink the food. It doesn't apply to Avalon and the Seelie court, but I don't trust your magic. And this," he gestured at the enclosure, visible through the ceiling of Mischa's house, "is not a realm in which I have any interest in remaining."
"We have that in common," Mischa said, taking the offered cup as her own and sipping before setting it on a low table.
"The saltwater fae?" Tamani asked.
That enigmatic smile again. "I hear talk. What do you hear?"
"I hear nothing." He tilted his head, leaning forward. "But I've seen things."
Her eyes brightened. "Have you, now?"
Tamani shook his head. He'd given the first morsel; it was Mischa's turn to reciprocate.
"There are whispers, that when Avalon was created—and isn't that a trick we're sorry to have lost!—some were left behind. For what reason, I doubt we'll ever know. A feud? A mistake? No room on the ark?" She chuckled. "Some stories say it happened before the Glamour came upon us, others think it was later, but either way, we changed, and they changed. We adapted. They ... fled."
"Fled? From what?"
"Our enemies, of course! Silly sapling. From what else does one flee—sunsets? Of course it was our enemies. We've been shaped by them since they learned to walk upright."
"Trolls."
Mischa fixed Tamani with a contemptuous scowl. "Those grasping, misbegotten lumps? Don't make me laugh. Trolls we kept as pets, leashed to our purposes. Pets they would still be but for their unstable breeding. Thank you for culling that herd, by the by—arranging their extermination from here was an enjoyable challenge, kept me busy for years, and I was afraid it would all come to naught when they took my son. A shame they got the seedling, too. I had such plans for her! But I suppose the might of the Benders isn't what it used to be."
The way she flitted from past to present, then spoke of Yuki and Shar—her son!—as if they were pawns on a gameboard left anger and confusion warring for control of Tamani's tongue. Best, perhaps, to focus on the task at hand; no sense getting drawn too far into the tangled root bed of Mischa's mind. "So the enemies—"
"The humans, of course. Never has a human population encountered the fae but that they try to kill us."
"I have human friends."
"As a whole, Tamani de Rhoslyn. Do keep up."
After further charged silence Tamani said, "So the fae left behind fled to the sea? That makes no sense."
"Plants do live in the sea."
Tamani cringed, remembering almost those exact words coming from Laurel's lips. "The faeries I saw were—they weren't like us."
"Oh, they wouldn't be. No Glamour, child, now I know Shar taught you these things. When someone teaches you an arcane mystery, you must take care that it doesn't fall right back out of your head!"
"They were nothing like us," Tamani pressed, failing to keep the frustration out of his voice.
But Mischa was as placid as a lagoon, sitting very still and sipping occasionally from her cup. "Weren't they?"
"Well for starters they were ... green."
"Because skin color has ever mattered in Avalon?"
"They had ..." He raised his arms and gestured vaguely. "Things hanging off of them. I'm quite certain they were attached."
"Fronds? I see. And are they so different from our own stems, all things considered?"
Tamani snapped his mouth shut. Was it really so difficult to imagine that sea fae would resemble other ocean flora? "They're taking humans," he said, forcing himself to pursue the most salient point. "Killing them."
Mischa didn't so much as twitch. "Are they?"
"Yes. They come out of the sea, snatch humans, and throw them back later, their throats torn out." He realized he was nearly shouting, his left hand gripping the key in his pocket painfully tight. He forced himself to draw a deep breath.
"How do they take them?"
"What do you mean?"
She shrugged like she didn't care, but there was a crackle of anticipation in the air. "I don't imagine them walking out of the ocean and taking them at gunpoint."
Tamani opened his mouth to ask how she even knew about guns, then realized he didn't actually know when humans invented the things. "They sing."
Mischa smiled. "Do they?"
"It's Enticement, somehow. I felt it."
She simply raised an eyebrow. "Anything else?"
He tried to figure out how in the world she could find this information useful, then finally just said, "There was one that ... changed. He became more humanoid, and handsome. Tall and attractive. He's the one the woman went for. He took her hand, the others sang, and she walked into the sea of her own accord."
"Hmm, sounds like Illusion to me. Enticement and Illusion, tell me again how vastly different these faeries are from us?"
Tamani frowned. She was right. Songs that Enticed, illusions that took time to shape but had physical heft, rather than being only visual. "I wonder if they have Mixers, too. And what in the cradle of Gaia could a Bender of the sea do?"
"What indeed?" Mischa said, eyes gazing into her cup as if it held fathomless depth.
Then she chuckled, reminding him that Mischa never did anything without a reason. Usually, two or three.
"How does this help you?" Tamani asked.
She blinked rapidly. "Nothing can help me, Tamani. Not in here."
Right. "Then why are you so pleased?"
"You've brought me welcome news, child. How many centuries has it been since a faerie last killed a human? Surely that sort of chaos and destruction is reason enough for rejoicing."
"No, it's not. That's a shallow sentiment. And whatever else you may be, you're not shallow."
"That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It wasn't."
"I was always proud of my son, you know."
Tamani clenched his teeth. He didn't want to talk about Shar. He definitely didn't want Mischa to talk about Shar.
"He was so very talented. Most parents think their child is exceptional, and most parents are wrong. But not me. Shar's Enticement, well, if Avalon wasn't sequestered from the humans, he'd have been a military hero."
"He was a hero."
She lifted one shoulder, dismissing Shar's sacrifice for the second time in their brief conversation, and Tamani found himself wanting to strike an old woman for the first time in his life. He gripped the edge of his chair instead, but it was a close thing.
"It's a family trait, you know."
"What?"
"High-level Enticement. Being able to control so many animals at such great distances. Why do you think they sent me away so fast?" She bent forward, her glittering eyes just inches from his. He wanted to pull back, but refused to show weakness. "The things I could do, Tamani de Rhoslyn. The things I had planned."
Tamani's fingers were shaking by the time she pulled her face away and settled back in her chair, a demure smile curling her lips.
"What do you want with these new sea faeries—to protect them, or to annihilate them?" she asked.
Tamani hadn't thought in terms of the faeries—he'd been thinking of the humans. That realization made him feel guilty. Especially now that he was pretty sure they were the same species, simply altered by centuries of divergent evolution. "I'm not certain," he hedged.
"It doesn't matter which outcome you want, actually. When you have two races who can weaponize human beings, the winner will be whoever can do it better."
"We're not going to weaponize humans."
"You will if you want to win, sprout, make no mistake. After all, they will. You already said so."
"I said they kidnap them—not turn them into weapons."
"Why else would one lure humans into the sea but to discover the best way to use them?"
Tamani closed his eyes. Of course, of course that was why they were abducting people! Predicting villainy was much easier if you could think like a villain—something Tamani had never been very good at doing. Apparently Mischa was happy to do it for him, and her explanation seemed to fit the puzzle. The sea faeries took the humans one at a time and, after the first few, tossed them back with their throats ripped open. A creature living in the ocean might not understand that humans need to breathe air, and a drowning human trying to communicate their distress might very well clutch at their throat. Tamani had simply never considered that tearing open their necks might not be to kill them, but a sad attempt to keep them alive. The sea fae were studying humans, and with no apparent concern for their lives.
Mischa was right.
Charlotte had been right.
Tamani just hadn't seen it.
How in the hell had Mischa? Tamani leaned forward, scrutinizing her. "How did you know I was coming?"
Mischa said nothing. He didn't really think she would, but it was worth a try. He shook his head at her stubbornness and started to rise. He had work to do.
"Has my granddaughter inherited the gift?" Mischa asked, stopping him.
"The gift?"
"You have the most deplorable listening comprehension, sprout. High-level Enticement. Like her father. Like me. Does she have it?"
Like her father. It took a moment before Tamani realized what such a thing could mean for him. For the humans. For Lenore. For the sea fae.
And he knew it showed on his face because Mischa let out a low chuckle. "I think your work here is done. Off with you."
Tamani rose wordlessly; he'd seen the trap too late. This was what Mischa wanted him to know—that her granddaughter might be of great use to him, securing her family legacy of carnage and death. Tamani hated the thought of doing anything that made Mischa happy, but given the stakes, how could he not use the weapon she'd just put in his hand? He cursed under his breath as he ducked through her doorway.
Behind him, Mischa laughed and spoke once more, scarcely loud enough to hear. "Well, well, well, what has it got in its pockets?"
Terror sliced through Tamani and he squeezed the key in his left pocket, assuring himself that it was still there. Still safe. Just Mischa playing her games. But how had she known? And what might she one day do with that knowledge? Tamani hadn't run away from an encounter in years, but he fled from this Unseelie faerie who always knew too much and cared too little.
With his hand still clenched around the key, Tamani jogged back down the path toward the base of the steep incline that would let him leave this awful place, feeling even more naked than he was.
"Sir?"
A soft voice stopped him, but when he turned, he didn't see anyone.
"Over here." He spotted the old woman sitting on a stool outside the nearest bubble house, beckoning him near.
Indecision churned within him, but finally, with a muttered curse, he walked over and stooped down so he could hear her.
"Can you tell me of Avalon?" she asked.
Tamani shifted his weight from foot to foot. He wanted so badly to leave—to get away from Mischa—but this faerie asked intently and her eyes had a softness around them that was conspicuously absent from Mischa's. So after a quick glance toward Mischa's house he said, "What do you want to know?"
The wrinkles on her cheeks grew deeper as she smiled. "I hear there's a new queen and that she has destroyed the boundaries between the seasons. That everyone is considered equal. Tell me it's true."
"It's true," he said warily.
She sighed contentedly, puzzling Tamani all the more. "Then it is as I always hoped. That was my crime, you know."
"How so?" Tamani found himself drawing near, resting one knee on the soft ground to crouch close to her.
She lifted her chin and met his eyes. Hers, though wrinkled at the edges, their light green irises a touch cloudy, were nonetheless earnest—bold, even. "I fought for a revolution. I tried to rally the Ticers to demand more rights. I knew of our worth far better than they did. I wanted them to fight for it."
"Violently?" Tamani asked.
"If we'd gotten that far, I suppose. Do you not think it would be worth it?"
"We did it peacefully."
"Easy to say now, little spring blossom. But you made the rest of us wait. You were able to pick up peacefully what I wanted at any price. Does that make me wrong?"
Tamani weighed her words, the urgency of his errand temporarily forgotten. Fifteen years ago he'd brought Laurel to her first Avalonian festival. He remembered the way she watched him bow and trail along behind her. He thought nothing of it. She'd been appalled. Change hadn't come quickly, and it hadn't come easily, but it had come for him as surely as it had come for all of Avalon.
"Would you ... talk to that new queen? The pretty young one?" The old faerie's hand was on his arm, as wrinkled as her face. He couldn't imagine she was long for the Earth. "I should like to see Avalon once more before I die. Inciting rebellion was my only crime. I was fierce, and I refused to cease or to recant. But I was never accused of anything else. Tell me, now that the revolution is over, what is my crime except that I did not win?"
He met her eyes, a devastating spark of injustice flaring to life within him. He couldn't know yet if she was being entirely truthful, but if she was ...
"What's your name?" he asked in a whisper.
"Tera. Tera de Salina. Yours?"
"Tamani de Rhoslyn."
"Tamani," she repeated. "I've been here a long time, Tamani. And I wasn't young when I arrived. Seventy years trying to exist peacefully and on my own, not letting myself be poisoned by the lot they send in here. I've done it as best I can. But I'm tired. I just want to go home."
Tamani swallowed hard. "I'll talk to her. I swear it." He stood and looked down at her. "Perhaps some good can come out of my visit today."
"Thank you," she said, and she took his hand in hers and pressed it to her dry lips. "The only thing that could please me more than ending my days in Avalon would be ending them in the Avalon of my dreams."
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Only one chapter this week as I had a sick hubby and kids.:( I'll have two chapters again next week! Crazy stuff coming!!! Don't forget to vote!!!!