I lean back in my seat knowing there is only one place my parents could arrange for us to be taken. Only one place where we’d both be safe from Agent Donovan and others like him: Devashire. And when we arrive, I’ll have a price to pay, one that might make Donovan’s table appealing.
* * *
We land in a private airport,and the pilot directs us to transfer to a personal jet. I cringe when I notice the four-leaf clover painted on the tail of the plane. Lucky Enterprises. My parents can’t afford this. I hate to think what they must have done to get the money. I’ll owe them big time. Considering how long I’ve been gone and how little contact we’ve had over the years, I wouldn’t blame them for leaving me to rot in that rehabilitation center. I’m both grateful and dreading what this all means.
As I exit the helicopter, Arden shoves a carry-on in my direction. My brilliant daughter had the forethought to pack me a bag. I kiss her on the cheek, thankful for an option to the smoke-scented orange jumpsuit I’m wearing. We board the plane, and a few hours later, I’ve changed into a pair of jeans, a cami, and a dark cardigan in time to land in Asheville, North Carolina. A human in a Jeep picks us up on the tarmac.
Forty minutes later, we wind our way into the mountains, my heart jackhammering harder with every mile closer to Dragonfly. When I recognize the route the driver is taking, I slap her shoulder. “Hey, the front gate is that direction.” I point at the access road we should have taken.
“My orders are to bring you the back way,” she states, never taking her eyes off the road. Her platinum hair swings just under her ears and I notice a bulge I’m sure is a gun under her vest.
“Orders?” I shake my head. Who was giving her orders?Fuck.Whoever was helping my parents must not know our situation. “Arden is human,” I tell her. “She can’t get through the moon gate. You need to take us to the front entrance.”
The driver presses her finger to her earpiece and relays what I’ve told her. A few uh-huhs later and she addresses me again. “Someone will meet you. It’s taken care of, ma’am.”
“Taken care of?” I don’t understand. A human can’t find or enter the fairy portal to Devashire. I shake my head, panic growing and sending my stomach tumbling. “I won’t leave her behind!” I warn. “I’ll die before I let them separate us.”
“Ma’am,” the driver says sternly. “Relax. No one is leaving anyone behind, and absolutely no one is dying. If the boss says it’s taken care of, it’s taken care of.”
“But the only one with the power to let her through is—” My breath catches in my throat. Oh no. I thought my parents might have leveraged their business to pay for my rescue. I hadn’t considered they might’ve gone to Godmother.
My pulse accelerates, and I hyperventilate until I have no choice but to put my head between my knees to keep from being ill. This is a disaster.
“Mom? Are you okay?” Arden asks from the back seat. She pats my back and hands me her water bottle. “Drink something.”
Just like Arden to be worried about me when her entire world has been turned upside down. She’s always been precocious. I suppose she’s had to be, considering our circumstances. I sip the water and nod to her as I hand it back. I need to stay strong… for her.
Godmother is our most powerful ruler. Humans always assume it’s the king—a mistake made by creatures who’ve been conditioned toward patriarchy. Fae have a king, but he’s a recluse. He hasn’t been involved in Devashire’s politics since the Civil War when he botched things royally. Godmother, on the other hand, plays an active role in leading the seelie. She’s the real power. But she’s not a queen or anything like it. The closest human equivalent is the Godfather, like the character from the movie. A mob boss. A power no one would ever mess with.
Godmother runs Devashire with magic and might. Unlike all other seelie, Godmother is so saturated with luck that she’s capable of true magic. Some say she’s a mage. Others that she learned her powers from a secret society of fae lost to time. One thing I know is that she is positively ancient. My grandmother tells me that her mother’s grandmother remembered her looking exactly the same as she does today. Fae live long lives: three hundred years on average. Godmother is older—some say thousands of years old—and more powerful than any creature I’ve ever heard of. She can make things happen. She’s also scary as fuck and deals in favors and bargains. If my parents went to her for help getting me back, I will owe a debt, one far greater than money could ever settle.
By the time the Jeep reaches the end of the dirt road and the driver parks at the edge of a dark forest, I’m a ball of nerves thinking about it.
“Where are we supposed to go?” Arden asks. She grabs the bags out of the back and jumps down from the Jeep. She hands me mine. The driver looks at me and touches the brim of her cap as she nods, then she backs up and pulls away.
“Mom?” For the first time, Arden seems genuinely afraid. The Jeep’s headlights fade, and we’re alone. I have a fleeting thought that we could run, but where would we go? There isn’t another place on earth that’s safe for us right now.
“We have to go through the woods,” I say. “You’ll be okay. Just follow me.” I lift my suitcase and start walking. The wheels are useless where we are going. There is no path here.
“Follow you? I can’t even see you!” Arden’s anxiety makes her voice tremble, and it breaks my heart.
I set down my suitcase and remove my cardigan, tying the arms around my waist. It’s cold, even for a fae, but it can’t be helped. “I know this is scary for you. You’ve only ever been in the city and the desert. I’m sure the forest feels ominous. But this is where I’m from. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I grunt in pain as I spread my wings. My back is still sore from Donovan’s torture. But with a little luck, I make myself glow.
“Oh… Mom.” Her voice is full of wonder. She’s seen my wings before but never at night. Never when my light was so clearly visible. The moment grabs me by the lapels and shakes. Pulling back this curtain for her, showing her what I am, it reminds me of our differences and the implications. Arden isn’t fae, and where we have no choice but to go things might not be easy for her.
My voice is thick as I say, “Let’s go.” I lead her into the woods, thankful that she remembered her coat. We travel at a snail’s pace so that she can pick her way through the underbrush at human speed. It’s positively frustrating.
The forest is a pixie’s natural habitat. I could fly through these trees and make it to the portal in minutes, but Arden doesn’t have the benefit of my sixth sense. She has to see where she’s walking before she takes a step, and the luggage slows both of us down. It takes over an hour to travel a mile.
“How much farther?” she whines, head tipped back. Arden never complains. I can count how many times we’ve argued about anything on one hand. She’s always been a ray of sunshine and a real trooper. Not now. Now in her exhaustion, she reminds me of when she was six and would hold her hands skyward, wanting to be picked up. Only she’s much too big to carry anymore, and there’s nowhere to carry her to. I can see she’s exhausted. I’ve asked too much of her tonight. But the truth is we should have been there by now. Either I’ve forgotten the way or the portal has been moved in my absence. The only other possibility, and this is what I’d been afraid of, is that Arden’s human presence is keeping me from finding it.
“Let’s rest for a moment,” I say in a strained voice. I sit on my suitcase and watch her do the same. My glow flickers and burns out.
“Mom? What’s wrong? What happened to your light?”
“Tired. I just need to rest.” True but not the entire truth. The entire truth is I’m not sure where to go next and I need to preserve my luck. I take a few deep breaths. Worst-case scenario, we can wait here until the sun comes up, then make our way back to the main gate. At least we’re in the woods. I always feel better in the woods. Well, except for the one time that changed everything. Being here again, I remember it like it was yesterday.
ChapterFour
