Page 24 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

Rhoswyn

Luck is on my side. The moment the bath is delivered, the two men disappear, leaving me in privacy for the first time. The door clicks shut, then there’s a pause.

The lock snicks loudly in the silence.

They’ve locked me in the room.

Did they do that to protect me, or to keep me isolated?

I unfasten the cloak and let it drop to the floor, then hurry to shed the rest of my clothes. Whatever their reasons are, I’m not going to pass up the steaming bronze tub full of water and the soft fluffy towels beside it.

Of course, the second my shift comes off, I become aware of the lightest of pressures against my back. I crane my neck, trying to see my shoulder blades. Something glimmers at the edge of my vision.

Wings. They weren’t lying. I really do have wings.

They’re lying flat against my spine right now—and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to move them—but there’s no denying they’re there.

Pearlescent, and gossamer fine, they fall to the backs of my knees. There are six of them in total, three on each side of my spine, and they flutter weakly against my back.

Can I get them wet? Can I fly? They don’t look strong enough to support my weight.

Damn it, why can’t I make them move properly?

At least that ever present itch is finally, blessedly, gone.

I give up trying to move them after a few seconds and return my attention to the bath.

The water scalds my toes, but I don’t care. I embrace the feeling after hours of riding hard. I check my thighs, then frown and check again. For as long as I can remember, I’ve had delicate skin and bruised easily. After the chafing and scraping of being on horseback for an entire day, I expected blood. Or at the very least, a small abrasion of some kind.

The skin is smooth, if a little pink. Nothing like what I’d expect.

I shrug it off as I sink into the water. My wings don’t react to getting wet, and it’s a shock to realise that I can feel the heat through them. The veins and membranes have sensation, just like any other part of my body.

I grab a washcloth and start scrubbing the dirt from my skin. The goat-legged girl who drew the water has perfumed it with nice smelling oils, and for a second I allow myself to relax and indulge.

Then I pull myself together and remember what I’ve got to do.

“Mab? Maeve? Titania?”

All three of them pop into being as if they were never gone, and I want to sigh in relief.

“Miss us?” Maeve asks, plopping down on top of the table. Or rather, she hovers just above it, in the way she always does.

Perhaps it’s just my enhanced senses, but they seem more vibrant here. Their voices are clearer and their outlines less fuzzy.

“I have questions for you three,” I begin, biting the inside of my cheek. “And I need you to answer them. Properly this time.”

Mab draws closer, settling herself against the fireplace, staring into the cheerful flames with a solemn expression.

“We can’t give you all the answers,” she mumbles. “But we’ll do our best.”

“How can you be here when you were in the human realm? Did you follow me through the portal?”

Mab shakes her head. “I have no idea. Danu gifted us to you. We go where you go.”

“Danu? Their goddess?”

Titania tuts. “Your Goddess. The one who created you. Your spiritual mother.”

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