Page 72
Story: The Source of Storms
“Because you don’t really look like this. He taught me to use glamour magic. And he cast it on you himself, still in my belly, before he… Before we parted. He wanted to help me keep you hidden. Keep you safe.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you don’t look like you think you do.” She turned to me. “When I look at you, I see through the illusion he cast on you. I see you as you are.”
“So you kept my face hidden, even from me. Gods above, Mother… Why didn’t he change my eyes?” I asked.
“I don’t really know. I guess it just felt wrong to hide them. I didn’t want to lose who you were, who I was, entirely. Where we came from. I think he felt the same way. Didn’t want me to forget him.” Her voice was heavy and she was quiet a moment, then said, “Would you like me to dispel it? See who you really are?”
I ran my hands over my face, smoothing back my wet hair. This was all too much. “How… how different will I be?”
“Not as different as you think. You’ve always been beautiful, Hal. But you look more like your father than you know.” She smiled sadly.
“Then show me,” I said.
She passed a hand over my face and I felt the familiar tingle of magic dissipating. Magic I had been born with, had been so accustomed to that I had never even known it was there but now felt the absence of. I realized I had no way to see my appearance.
“Well, how do I look?” I laughed halfheartedly.
“Just like you always have to me,” she said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She stood at the edge of the water and held a steady hand out over it. The wavelets on the surface smoothed into nothing, the water becoming glassy and reflective. It wasn’t a perfect mirror, but I could see my reflection somewhat. I leaned over to look and was immediately struck by my ears. Two long, pointed Archfae ears protruded from my wet hair.
All my features were a little more dramatic. My jawline was sharper, my nose more defined. The fae grace my mother had always had was amplified in my own looks now. Yet there was something more, something wild, a feral edge to it.
“The ears will be a lot to get used to.” I lifted a hand to touch them tentatively.
“I can hide them again. Hide it all again, if you want,” she offered.
“No. I’m tired of hiding. I want to be who I am. Fully.”
We were quiet as I studied my reflection.
“You do look so like him. You have my eyes, but his… unique beauty.”
“So Fenodyr, my father, was an Archfae. But he was also a king?”
“He is now, I assume. He was meant to be when we were together. He tried to avoid it, but his father had made a deal with the queen of a court on his behalf.”
“Why would an Archfae possibly need to make a deal with a queen? Aren’t they more powerful than most fae?”
“They are, yes. But the Archfae used to have no place in the courts. Had no use for them, either. Especially Fen. You see, the courts only existed here, not on the other side of the Veil. But after the wars, the fae who inhabited our plane––the Midjalend, we call it––fled to the Fiadhain and sealed the Veil behind them. And when they went, they took all their courts and politics with them. And so the Archfae and other fae who had been there all along had to assimilate.”
“So the Archfae wanted a way into the courts?” I asked.
“Most of them didn’t. But some, like Fen’s father, did. He saw an opportunity to gain more power, and volunteered Fenodyr for the role instead of himself, to maintain his own freedom. Most of the political influence with none of the sacrifice.”
“Wow, real nice grandfather I have.”
She chuckled. “Yes, Fen did not appreciate it. But a deal is a deal, and in the Fiadhain, a shirked deal can mean death. So Fen had to marry the queen, or his father would die.”
“So he did,” I said.
“I think he did,” she repeated, with far less emotion than the phrase must have inspired in her. “I always told him he should have just let his father die, let him suffer the consequences of his own plans. Freed himself from his father’s tyranny. But Fen was too kind.”
“Doesn’t seem like kindness to put you out on your own, though. Especially pregnant with me.”
“Kindness does not always lead to happiness, Halja. He loved me, and he loved you. He was terrified for me, for us. Thequeen’s assassins had been after me for months. He protected me with his power for a long time, and killed so many that she sent to hunt me. But it was too much, all the time. They were always after us, always found me wherever I hid, and it was terrifying, never knowing if I’d lose you. We were exhausted, so tired of fleeing, of hiding. Eventually the queen threatened to call the deal off, declare that Fen’s father had defaulted on his bargain because Fen was so clearly unfaithful to her. Unless he handed me over to her to be executed, you along with me, and committed to his marriage to her. So he sent us here to keep us safe.”
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