Page 9 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

The stranger coughs. “My lady, we really have to correct some of your assertions before you go home.”

“Home?” My jaw drops.

“To Faerie,” he confirms.

“You want to take me back? But you left me here for twenty-five years!”

“For reasons I promise to explain once we are away from here. You have my oath, as a knight of Elfhame, that it was not by choice.”

Now that he says the words, he does remind me a bit of a knight. It’s in the strong cut of his jaw and the noble way he holds himself.

“What if I don’t want to go? I don’t know you, or who you are.”

“If I tell you my name, will you come down?” he asks.

Maybe. Now that Tom is here, I feel a little bolder. Although, I don’t think my brother could really stand up against this man—err, male.

“Once again, I give you my word you will not come to harm.”

“Fairies can’t lie,” Tom adds, sullenly. “That part of the stories is true. He’s good for his word. Even if he could, you always know when someone’s lying to you.”

Damn my brother for being right. I’d always put the talent down to a woman's intuition, but is it something more?

The stranger inclines his head toward my brother in silent thanks, moving aside to let him into the cottage.

As soon as Tom’s over the threshold, I bite my lip, push to my feet, and reach for the stair rail to make sure I don’t fall on the way down.

When I’m standing at ground level, I realise just how tall the fae truly is. My eyes are level with his chest as I slowly cross the room and hesitate beside the chair he pulls out for me. He’s given me our father’s seat, at the head of the table, but I don’t want to be rude and refuse him, so I take it.

“I’m Jaro,” he begins, fetching the plate of food he prepared and placing it in front of me.

As his hand withdraws, I catch sight of a strange, dark mark on his palm, like a birthmark. He clenches his fist before I can see it properly, and his next words chase away all thoughts of it.

“I’m here because your Lady Mother, Danu Bless her Soul, ordered us to leave you in this realm for your own safety, then return you to Faerie once you were of age.” At my confused look, he adds, “Fae don’t come of age until they’re a quarter of a century.”

“My birth mother?” Dear Lord, I have a fairy—er, fae—mother.

“Nicnevin Diana. A great seer, and an amazing female.” Jaro bows his head in respect. “She left specific instructions.”

Nicnevin… what a strange name. The reverence with which he says it is almost religious.

“Is she…” I swallow the lump of emotion clogging my throat. “Is she still alive?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady. She… died at your birth.”

It’s surprisingly hard to gain and lose a parent all in the space of a few seconds. I’ve never met the woman, but loss still hits me hard.

“But she wanted me to return?”

Jaro nods. “If I may be blunt? Whatever your brother has said, there is no future for you here. You will outlive him—and everyone else in this place. You’re surrounded by iron, and only the Goddess’s glamour is keeping you from feeling the full effects. It will wear off in a few hours, and you will get sicker. The metal will burn you whenever you touch it. People won’t recognise your true form, and it’s likely they’ll react with fear.”

Oh God, I have a true form? “Am I some kind of troll?”

He coughs, then snorts. “No, my lady. You’re high fae, like me. But you have wings. I’m surprised you haven’t been able to sense them.”

My hand flies back to that ever-present itch between my shoulder blades. Is that them? Have I been able to feel them all along, trapped beneath this… glamour?

God. Wings.

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