Page 27 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

“You were never human,” Mab corrects. “It was an unfortunate necessity that you had to be raised away from our people, but you have us and your Guard to help you.”

I grab a washcloth and start scrubbing at my shoulders. “Can I wash my wings with this?” I ask, holding it up after a second’s deliberation.

Maeve nods, “Just be gentle. Wings are sensitive as shit.”

I open my mouth to ask how she knows, but she just sighs and turns around.

One second, she has no wings, the next, a shimmering pair almost identical to my own is there.

“Keeping them glamoured becomes second nature after a while,” she explains. “Easier that way.”

I nod along, trying to focus and reach behind me to wash the base of my wings at the same time.

“So I can fly?” I still can’t figure out how that’s supposed to work. “They look too… delicate.”

“Of course you can fly. What would be the point of Danu giving you wings if you couldn’t use them?” Maeve groans.

“Once you get used to them, your wings will become an extension of your personality,” Titania adds. “An easy way for anyone to tell how you really feel about something or someone is just to watch your wings. Some fae learn to control the instinct, but glamour makes it a non-issue.”

“Unless you’re so distracted that you lose hold of the glamour,” Maeve mutters. “But once you master glamour properly, that almost never happens.”

“And glamour is…”

“Goddess, she knows nothing,” Maeve laments, flopping onto the bed.

I finally reach my wing and gasp as sensation shoots through me from just the gentlest brush of the cloth.

“Sweet Jesu—Danu.” I catch myself at the last moment, and Titania giggles.

“That’s why letting someone care for your wings is a big deal,” she helpfully adds.

They’re so sensitive that just one brush with the cloth lit up my spine like fireworks. To make matters worse, they’re covered in a kind of strange, shimmering powder which has already turned the water sparkly.

“What is this stuff?” I ask, pulling the wash cloth away. It’s coated in it.

Maeve snorts. “Dust.”

“Dust doesn’t sparkle.”

“It’s fae dust.” Titania rolls her eyes. “High fae with wings produce it when they feel strong emotions.”

“Especially lust,” Maeve pipes in helpfully.

I’m pretty sure my whole body blushes at that new information, and I busy myself with cleaning as much of the stuff from my wings as possible, almost flinching with every stroke of the cloth.

How on earth did I manage riding for an entire day with them belted down across my back? I take the rest of the cleaning process as slowly and carefully as possible. My mind is working overtime for the rest of my bath, but I don’t say anything until I’m out and wrapped in a fluffy towel.

“Should I trust them?” I ask.

Titania coughs, Maeve just snorts.

It’s Mab who answers. “Those males have sworn a vow to protect you. They are members of your Guard. They are probably the only people you can trust with your safety.”

“And there are more of them?”

“You have five,” she confirms. “Other Nicnevins before you have had more, and some have had less. You’re the first Nicnevin to call under fae to your Guard, and the first to be assigned an under fae High Priestess. They’re connected to you, and now that you’re in this realm, you should be able to feel them.”

I’m just about to ask her how to do that when the key turns in the lock.

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