Chapter 7
Castle in the Air
T am’lin? Where are you?
Leo twitched and turned around. The name echoing inside his head wasn’t his own, but he knew he should answer it anyway. He had been deep in the mist of the Darkwood, but hearing that name was an anchor, drawing him in no matter how far adrift he wandered.
Sometimes, it seemed a welcome thing. A refuge in the chaotic and magical storm.
But after seeing the young woman named Tabitha, the name inside his head felt more like a chain keeping him bound.
Tam’lin, come to me.
Leo heard the name again along with the command; he knew the one who called him, but still he hesitated.
In the Fae Realm, Leo was often asked to tell stories of the human world, but every time he did, the less of his memories he seemed to keep for himself. It was as if the tales he told were truly being transferred from his lips into the minds and hearts of those who heard it. But he remembered Tabitha. He dreamed of her most every night. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and when she had spoken to him, when she tried to touch him, she almost seemed . . . real .
She hadn’t called him Tam’lin, Leo, or even Crown Prince Leopold.
She had called him Tom, connecting him to a life he could hardly remember. The old emotions drained away. The details lost. All he had left were a few scattered stories he repeated long after the magic of the tales had run out.
That was why he was late to answer the call of his mistress, waiting until he couldn’t wait anymore.
Leopold Tamias Lynister.
That time, the Fae Queen used his full name as a formal summoning, pulling him from the forest and back into her private rooms in her White Palace. Such summonings were a magic common to this place. Fae didn’t seem to mind moving instantly through the air with nothing but their true name to cling to. But Leo wasn’t fae. His body naturally resisted the process, and something inside him seemed especially resistant today.
So it hurt. A lot.
He appeared before his queen and collapsed onto the floor. His feet wouldn’t hold him.
The Queen stood from her dressing table—or at least, what appeared to be a blur of light and sound where her dressing table ought to be—and came over to him. “Tam’lin? Are you all right?”
Tam’lin might not be his proper name, just as his dream girl had said, but Leo certainly preferred it. At least when someone in the Fae Realm called him Tam’lin, Leo could choose when and how to respond. And right now, the best response seemed to be to not say anything at all.
If he had, he might have said something sarcastic—a reflex as it had once been in his nature.
Now, Leo had learned it was better to be silent rather than say something his queen wouldn’t understand and might take offense to.
He had forgotten a lot about the human world, but emerald eyes often flashed in his head, and he knew he had to be kind and eager to please the Fae Queen. He had to make her love him.
Even when it hurt.
She shook her head at him. A light scolding. An indulgent sigh. She was annoyed, but she still loved him. “You know I don’t like doing that, but I was worried. You usually answer right away, and the forest hasn’t been stable lately. Why didn’t you come when I first called you?”
Leo believed she had been worried. She never would have hurt him like that if she hadn’t been. She loved him. So why had he tried to stay away? “I . . .I don’t know.” Not a lie. After all the pain he just went through, he wasn’t sure what about his conversation with his dream girl had captured him so completely. Only that he should be sorry for it.
He was sorry for it.
He pulled himself to his feet, but he kept his head bowed. “Forgive me, my queen.”
The Queen turned her head dismissively. She was used to him being forgetful and in need of her direction. “Just don’t wander off again. We’ll have many guests tonight, and I’ll need your help to get ready.”
“Guests?” He must have forgotten something, and the room was still slowly coming into focus along with the Fae Queen.
She was a fair-haired and ageless beauty, wearing a delicate gossamer gown. Her ears were slightly pointed, and her words were precise. “For Spring’s Celebration. I told you.”
Leo nodded. If there was a celebration for the coming spring tonight, then it only made sense for lots of magical and exotic guests to come to the Queen’s palace.
But, if he had been given a choice, there was still only one person Leo wished to see.
Tabitha imagined a Fae Queen would live in a white palace crafted seamlessly from polished stone. She imagined the extravagant gardens, spiraled towers, and uniformed creatures ranging in size and shape—humanoid, animal, or even living plants. And, of course, she imagined the clothing—all the loose tunics and flowing skirts with their masterful designs that somehow still felt effortless, along with the enchanted fabrics of real flower petals or freshly spun gold.
But she still hadn’t quite prepared herself for the crowd of bodies coming in and out of the open gates. “What is going on?” Tabitha asked the faerie cat, trying to focus on her and the cat in her arms as her anxiety spiked.
The faerie cat walked lazily ahead—still on all fours. She seemed to only stand on occasion, like when she wanted to do something with her front paws or make a point. “Well, we are at the palace of the Fae Queen, just as you wished. And it looks like they are preparing for some sort of party. Fae celebrate the change of the seasons, just like the humans do. And it’s a good thing too.”
“Why is it good?” Warily, Tabitha dodged a pig-faced man bringing in carts of wine barrels. A goblin?
“Because most of the creatures here will soon be drunk, and we won’t be as noticed. We can blend in with the Queen’s invited guests. Or at least I can. You . . . ” Her sapphire eyes narrowed in on Tabitha’s patchwork dress. “Tell me, if you can make gowns like mine even in the human world, why are you wearing such a ratty dress yourself?”
Tabitha ducked her head as her cheeks warmed. But she was still barely more than a street urchin. She had no reason to put on airs. “It wouldn’t be fitting for me to dress above my station.”
The faerie cat seemed to accept that easily, comfortable in the idea that everyone else was beneath her in station. “I suppose so. But if that is still the ‘station’ you wish to carry, even in the Fae Realm, then you’d be better off letting me handle this.”
The faerie cat went up to a small faerie man who seemed to be in charge of the main door, consulting a scroll longer than his four-foot frame.
“I’d like to be shown to some refreshments, if you please,” she said, sounding bored and put upon. “I’ve only just arrived.”
The faerie man sneered without even bothering to look at his list. He wore a suit coat that somehow had the same texture as tree bark and matched the rich brown of his hair. Brownie? “Do you expect me to believe that you have been invited? The spirit of such a lowly and unpleasant beast?”
The cat flicked her tail with the same care that a human might shrug their shoulders. “No, not me personally, but I often attach myself to more powerful fae, and surely you have seen that not all of those that the Queen invited have been able to make the trip. I have come here on another’s behalf.”
The man’s beady eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“Someone who hails from the Borderlands and wishes to present this human to the queen, along with her regrets.” Finally, both sets of eyes rested on Tabitha, and she found herself taking a step back from their scrutiny, though neither the faerie man nor the cat reached past her chest.
The brownie finally looked at his list. “From the Borderlands? Inside the Mortal Realm? You speak of the Summer Princess?”
“Well, not many fae live in the Mortal Realm. Is there anyone else I could be speaking of?”
The brownie scowled. “That is not an answer, but if you truly came here only to present a rare gift to our Queen, then I can’t see the harm in it.”
The cat nodded. “The only harm would be if you turn us away and the Queen learns of it. She will want to meet this human. I can assure you of that.”
“Perhaps. But she’s still a bit wild, isn’t she?” The brownie looked at Tabitha as if he were afraid the human girl was a dog that might bite or soil the carpet. “I will summon one of the other thralls to stay with her until the Queen has time to inspect her. Then you may go and mingle with the other beasts.” He nodded them both through the door to a grand hallway, past another disordered clump of waiting guests, and the cat seemed rather pleased with herself.
“So, the Summer Princess is in the Mortal Realm? That is interesting. Seems I have spent far too much time away from court. I am dreadfully behind on all the latest gossip.” She scanned the room as if looking for one of the other well-dressed fae and faerie creatures to quench her curiosity.
But the chaos of the palace was quickly becoming too much for Tabitha. She was still staring back at the brownie doorman, puzzling over the conversation she had just witnessed. “You lied to him?” She did not think fae or faerie creatures were supposed to do that.
The cat scowled. “Of course I did not. Every word I said was true.”
Tabitha frowned, going over all the words again. “You didn’t lie, but you led him to believe a lie.”
The cat’s eyes were back on the crowd of guests with only mild interest. “Of course I did, and you should be thanking me. I do believe that our bargain has been fulfilled.”
Tabitha’s heart lurched. She didn’t want to be abandoned in this crowd. “You said you would stay and answer my questions until I found . . .” She stopped.
There, effortlessly striding through the swarm of unfamiliar fae, was a man she had only seen in her dreams.
Tom.