The knot tightening in my temples made me realize I was scowling and had been for some time. I forced the muscles in my face to loosen. I aimed for neutral, but clearly didn’t succeed because when Caleb glanced at me he shook his head.
“You’ll see,” he whispered before turning his attention back to the center of the clearing.
Rianna locked her arm with mine again. “He’s right. It’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t convinced. Leaving without taking any chances sounded like a better plan, even if I lost a day. But I waited obediently, watching as the Winter Queen stepped forward.
“Hail majesties of the plentiful harvest,” she said, and though she didn’t yell or raise her voice, I could hear her crisp words as if she stood feet from me instead of more than a dozen yards away.
“Hail queen of the long slumber,” the Harvest King said. It was a title I hadn’t heard before, but winter was a time when nature appeared to sleep, so I guessed it was apropos. The king continued. “The oak is still ablaze with color and it is not yet time for your cold touch.”
The Winter Queen inclined her head. “The time in which the oak’s boughs are weighted with snow will come soon enough, but I am content to wait.”
“Then for this day and night, join our revelry. Be welcome in our court and make merry with us as we celebrate the bountiful harvest of fall.”
The words—actually, the entire exchange—had all the formality of a ritual. Which was confirmed when the Winter Queen curtsied and said, “The winter court joins the fall, debts and grudges forgotten for the span of this festive occasion when night and day are equal.”
The gathered fae, of both courts as well as all the independents who had already joined the festival, cheered. Folk rushed forward, enticing the new revelers to join dances or lift overflowing flagons. But as the winter fae dispersed, attention turned to another group of newcomers.
“Did I understand that correctly,” I whispered to Rianna as a couple crowned in woven flowers stepped into the clearing followed by their own entourage. “Did the winter court just join the fall court?”
Rianna nodded. “Only for the equinox.” When I continued to stare at her, she went on, “Remember how Caleb said that all doors open to the fall court for the equinox? That means all the power from human belief is flowing into this court, making it the most powerful for the entirety of the festival.”
And the rest are at their weakest, I suppose. I turned my attention back to the center of the clearing. A very similar ritualistic greeting was being exchanged, only this time the bit about the oak was something about budding and new life. This must be the spring court.
“Will all the courts attend?”
Rianna shrugged. “Maybe. The equinox and solstice revelries are unmatched, but debts and grudges truly must be forgotten for the revelry, and not every monarch can make such a promise.”
That made sense.
As the sun continued to rise, the party around us grew livelier and more courts arrived to join the revelry. I watched as the summer monarchs and their court were greeted and invited to join, followed closely by my great-granduncle, the King of Shadows. His entourage was the smallest I’d seen, with only two Sleagh Maith attending him and a small group of nonroyals, most of whom were monstrous in appearance. Of course, until the High King decided to sever the Nightmare Realm from Faerie, my uncle had ruled that as well, so monstrous was to be expected.
I turned as yet another troupe of fae emerged from between the hawthorn bushes and my breath caught in my chest. I blinked, and then blinked again. All unglamoured Sleagh Maith had an ethereal glow, as if lit softly from within, but the woman making her way into the clearing went beyond an otherworldly shimmer to a radiance that brightened everything around her. An involuntary smile spread across my face as unbidden tears gathered in my eyes. She floated more than walked toward the dais, and had an ephemeral quality to her, as if she were a wisp of brilliance that a breeze would steal away.
“Who is that?” I asked, my voice coming out choked.
When I received no answer, I tore my gaze away from the apparition long enough to realize Rianna wasn’t watching the procession of courts anymore, but staring at something—or someone—to our left. I had to repeat my question before she turned to me.
“Oh, the Queen of Light,” she said, her attention wavering before she finished the short sentence.
Light? That fit her, and her court who shared that slightly out of reach ephemeral quality and radiance. From what I’d learned from Caleb and Rianna’s crash course in all things Faerie, I knew that just as each season had an opposing season that balanced it, the court of light balanced the court of shadows. Or at least it once had. When the nightmare realm was severed, the shadow court lost the fear and night terrors that supplied most of its power. The counterbalance for the nightmare realm was supposed to be the realm of daydreams, which fed the light court through human creativity and imagination. Now my uncle had the smallest court, while the court of light was by far the largest I’d seen tonight. The darkness fading while the light thrived. But isn’t Faerie supposed to be about balance?
Once the court of light was invited to join the revelry, I turned toward the entrance. All four seasons were now present, as well as light and shadow. “So all that’s left is the high court,” I said, waiting, watching. Out of all the courts, the high court was the one I was most curious about. Both Rianna and Caleb dodged my questions about the high court, so I knew the least about it. I was more than a little curious to see the High King, who ruled over all the other courts.
But no one appeared.
“The high court won’t be here. They never attend,” Rianna said, her voice more than a little distracted. She dropped my arm, taking a step away before stopping and saying, “Al, I have to go.”
I started to protest, to stop her, or at least ask what was wrong. But when she turned to face me, the smile she wore was real, radiant. She grabbed my hands and beamed at me.
“Oh, Al, don’t look like that. Today, tonight, Faerie is transformed and dedicated to making merry. Until dawn tomorrow many taboos are lifted and bonds broken.” She tugged at the fingers of my right glove, pulling it up, almost off.
I jerked back, trying to stop her, but only ended up with a bare hand, my glove in Rianna’s grip. Her smile widened and I stared in wonder at my pale, unbloodied palm. I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Pulled off my other glove. That hand was clean too.
“Make merry, Al,” she said. Then, catching me off guard, she lifted onto her toes and kissed my cheek.
I gaped as she turned, and without another word, she wove through the throng of fae around us. My gaze moved past her, to where her beeline was headed, and her actions made more sense. Weaving toward her was Desmond, not in his familiar dog form, but in that of a man.
His smile matched hers as they met in the middle and he lifted her in his arms, kissing her. I looked away as that very deep kiss reached the point I was sure one of them would pass out if they didn’t break for air. While their public display of desire might have made me uncomfortable, it didn’t phase the revelers around them. In fact, I noticed more than a couple of fae pairing off.
“Please tell me a Faerie party isn’t code for an orgy,” I muttered, turning.
And found that I was alone.
Okay, I wasn’t actually alone as I was in the middle of a crowd of fae who, now that all the courts had entered, were talking animatedly or passing around drinks in cups made of trumpet flowers. But Caleb and Holly were gone. I looked around, searching, which was harder to do than normal. Unlike in the mortal realm, I wasn’t exactly tall in this crowd as it boasted plenty of Sleagh Maith, not to mention giants, trolls, and other larger-than-human fae. I turned back to see where Rianna and Desmond had gone, but the crowd had swallowed them, blocking them from sight.
Great. Abandoned. Now what was I supposed to do?
“What I wouldn’t give for a Dummies Guide to Faerie.” I’d said the thought out loud, which earned me odd looks from the revelers around me. I gave a fae with too few eyes and too many heads a tight-lipped smile. Only one head smiled back. Another fae, with legs like a goat but a very female—and completely naked—torso held out a buttercup filled with golden liquid. I waved a hand in refusal and slipped past her. Weaving my way through the crowd, I tried to look like I knew where I was going, but I was wandering aimlessly, hoping to run into someone I knew.
I should have been more specific in my hopes.
“Lexi,” a chimelike female voice said from behind me.
Crap. I turned, finding myself face-to-face with the delicate and perfect features of the Winter Queen.
“I have to go,” I said, pointing in the direction I’d been headed before she’d stopped me. I didn’t know where it would take me, but almost anywhere was better than here, with her. “Some other time, maybe.”
“Are you looking for someone? Should I guess who?” She tilted her head slightly, giving me a coy smile. “Could he be among my entourage?” She took a step back and swept a hand, indicating the circle of Sleagh Maith behind her.
I couldn’t have stopped my gaze from searching for Falin had I wanted to. But he wasn’t there. Without a word, I turned, intending to walk away.
“Dear Lexi, don’t be that way,” the queen said. “Perhaps one of these gentlemen are who you’re looking for.”
I didn’t want to turn. If she really was presenting Falin this time there would be a price. There was always a price and I didn’t want to face the temptation. I might fail. And yet, I found myself turning, looking to where her hand gestured.
“Falin.” The whisper escaped me before I was aware I’d spoken.
“Oh, poor Ryese,” the queen said, her voice dramatically pouty. But amusement danced under that act.
I honestly hadn’t noticed that Ryese was standing next to Falin. Ryese wasn’t looking at me, his pretty features shut down, but I could see the muscle above his jaw bulging as if he gritted his teeth. Hard.