I could give her anything she wanted: riches, freedom, a beautiful face, an impossibly long life. Anything in my power, I would do for this lass, to make right what was done wrong, to restore her to the place she deserved.
Though it pained me to know, I could never restore her mother to life.
“If you are serious, if you truly mean it...” Bess faced me again, eyes unflinching. “I want to go back to the world of man. I wish to go home.”
She spoke plainly, with a weariness born of years spent in a place she did not belong. I knew that feeling.
“I want to be among people. Real people. Not you lot, with your false faces, and semblance of mortality, all your pretty lies.”
Faery gold that turns to dry leaves. Pretty kelpies who drown anyone attempting to ride them. Love talkers who seduce the unwary, leave them pregnant and pining forever more. My people lie with appearances as they never can with their words.
“Send me back to my own kind,” Bess pleaded. “It is where I belong.”
My eyes stung. I stepped towards her and placed both hands upon her head. “How brave you are, my dear.” I closed my eyes and remembered all Mairi Grieve had taught me. The herbs and flowers she used. How to prepare them into a tincture; how to wrap a cut and set a broken limb. All these things I brought to the forefront of my awareness, and slowly, like a benediction, I kissed Bess Grieve upon the forehead.
All this knowledge now belonged to her.
She stepped away, eyes wide, mouth open a little in shock.
“Your Majesty,” whispered the Fool, but I owed him no explanation.
I had no explanation to give.
The cottage door opened, and little Aggie came out, kerchief stuck in her nose.
“Tired of waiting for me, are ye?” Bess asked her softly, putting a hand on Aggie’s back. The little girl leaned against her, suddenly shy.
“If you wish to return to the mortal realm, go with my blessing,” I said. “There is an abandoned shepherd’s hut not far from the forest of Carterhaugh. You could take residence there if you like.” My voice caught. “I do not think the shepherd will ever return.”
But Aggie let out a whimpering protest, clinging to Bess’s skirts.
“Aggie, too?” Bess asked, her voice strained.
I inclined my head.
“And the others?”
Amadan fair seethed. “This is beyond reasonable—”
I cut him off. “Of course. Anyone who wants to go.” My eyes flew to the Fool, sharp as blades. I would not be gainsaid.
Bess watched me, like a mouse might a cat feigning sleep. “I will gather them up, then. Children!”
At her nearly frantic call, the bairns fell in around her, the littlest ones lagging behind.
“Who among you wishes to go home?” she asked.
Little voices peeped up. “Me! Oh, I would. I so want to be with you, Mistress Bess.”
Only Jamie stood apart, hanging back in the corner. Bess beckoned to him, but he shook his head and would not go.
I drew power from the ground beneath me. Lightning surged under my skin; all nature answered to my call. “By oak and ash, by thistle and thorn, I release you from this place, and return you home.”
There came a great gust of wind, scouring my face and making my gown flutter around me. I squinted beneath the fluttering wings of my sleeve, and the snow vanished.
So did the grass. And the sun.
The sky shone red again, and the trees were nothing but tangles of dead limbs. I turned to the Dark Fool, and his skin was gone, teeth gritted in a rictus grin. All around us, the ghostly minders keened, nothing but glowing eyes and gaping maws.
