Authors: Kaye Thornbrugh
Jason’s
eyes were
closed
,
his face touched by a strange, distant bliss. Wherever Jason was right now, it wasn’t
here
.
He was with his music,
surging
through it.
The reel ended, and the fey burst into
thunderous applause.
Swaying a bit, Jason
coaxed the first notes of “The Rocky Road to Dublin” from the guitar. The fiddler stepped aside, giving Jason the stage as the faeries began their dance. His singing—rough and
lively
—fed the energy of the gathered fey
, giving them a new enthusiasm
.
They could have been conjured into existence by the sheer power of Jason’s music.
Somewhere between the magic-heavy air and Jason’s otherworldly gift, Filo found himself entranced.
When the final notes faded and the
music finally released hi
m, Filo found that he had sunk
to his knees in the grass.
His heart
was pounding in his ears, his blood rushing through his veins
. He pulled his gaze away from the stage, shaking his head to clear effects of the music.
The air vibrated with the force of the faeries’ applause
.
They stomped and howled
with delight.
Filo
rose and watched carefully as Jason and the fiddler were ushered from the platform
. A
pair of
dazed-looking
pipers relieved them,
taking up their instruments as the gathered faeries clapped out another beat.
Filo weaved a quick glamour,
covering his clothes in a layer
of disguising magic
. The
glamour
turned
his jeans and T-shirt into an outfit similar to Jason’s, except that his vest and pants were violet
, the co
lor of actors and storytellers.
It was a simple illusion, but he doubted any faeries would see through it.
Dressed
this way
, if he was stopped by any faeries, he wouldn’t be asked to do something he couldn’t and blow his cover. In violet, Filo could spout some Shakespeare or
recite
a ballad and maybe coast through.
Trying
to
don
the same vacant expression Lee had worn when she first arrived at Flicker, he ducked after the faeries that had
led Jason and the fiddler away.
Finally, he came to a shady grove where more than
thirty
human
s, all garbed in different colors,
sat waiting to be collected by revel faeries
.
Unguarded, but why should they be? Humans in revels tended to stay put.
Filo picked his way along, stepping carefully over sleeping forms as he searched for Jason’s face.
Many were
dozing
on woven grass mats, or
gnawing numbly on pieces of bread or fruit
, or simply staring
at nothing
. Paint-spattered artists dragged muddy paint brushes through the grass. Actors mumbled their lines rapidly, like protective chants. Most were so m
agic-dazed that they didn’t
even glance up Filo as he passed.
These were not the pampered, closely-tended pets of the
Daoine Sidhe
, like Lee had been. These humans were tools, objects—fed only what scraps the faeries deigned to toss them, being
slowly
worked to death. If
one
collapsed
from exhaustion
in the middle of a performance
, it was no matter
, since replacements were
easily found
.
These humans would live and die and nobody would care.
Filo
pitied them. He really did. But
he was
here
to save
one person
—only one
.
He found Jason near the middle of the grove, half-asleep, curled around his guitar. Filo crouched beside him, shaking Jason’s shoulder. At first, the other boy didn’t respond, just blinked blearily at him.
“Jason,” Filo whispered
urgently
. He noticed with some alarm that Jason’s fingers were bleeding from hours of nonstop strumming.
His guitar strings were tinged red.
“Hey, Jason.”
But Jason only furrowed his brow, uncomprehending.
This, Filo knew, was what Jason risked every ti
me he cavorted with
half-breeds, or visited the small
traveling
revels around Bridgestone
—the only places he could find musicians worthy of playing with him
. Jason’s music was too beautiful
for the human world
. Music flowed
through
Jason from some other place. It was only a m
atter of time before some faery
grew enamored of his
talent and spirited him away
to spend forever
like this.
Not now. Not today. Not if Filo could help it.
“Jason,” Filo
urged
quietly. “It’s me. It’s Filo.”
Shrill
laughter reached
Filo’s ears as
a
trio
of female elves sauntered into the shadow of the grove.
They were whispering to one another, giggling behind their elegant hands as they surveyed the available humans.
“Shall we have a musician?” asked
the first elf
, bending to inspect a nearby harpist.
Slim, elegant antlers jutted
from
the elf’s temples
.
“No music,” sighed
the second
. Her
dark
hair swayed around her hips as she stepped lightly among the humans. “I’m tired of dancing.”
The third elf, a blonde with delicate gossamer wings, nudged a nearby human with her foot. “An artist? This one paints pretty pictures. I’ve seen him.”
“No paintings.
They
never turn out realistic enough,” complained the first elf.
“
Let us have a b
ard, to tell us stories we’ve never heard.”
As she passed Filo and Jason, the dark-haired elf paused. The moment Filo felt her gaze, he let his expression go slack and
he
stared at the ground
, like all the other humans
.
Don’t react. Don’t react.
The elf knelt beside
Filo
on the grass, her
eyes
dark and
curious.
“This one is pretty,” she called, beckoning the
other elves
with a wave of her hand.
“He could almost be one of ours
, if it weren’t for these scars
.”
When they joined her, the
winged elf laughed. “Has someone been rough with him? A shame,” she cooed, stroking his cheek. Filo had to concentrate hard not to flinch at her touch.
Don’t react.
“
Such pretty eyes, blue as
a deep dream
.
I bet he has a pretty voice, too.”
The antlered
elf
shook her head bemusedly. “The pretty ones are for kissi
ng, not for listening,” she chided
, even as she ran her fingers lightly through Filo’s hair
. “
And I truly am in the mood for a story. Let us save this one for later, and have the gray-eyed girl for now.” She nodded toward another human in a rumpled
purple
skirt who was dozing nearby.
Nodding, the other elves rose and collected the befuddled girl. Pulling her along behind them, they left the little grove and disappeared into the revel.
As soon as they were gone, Filo let out a long breath
. His heart was pounding. That was much too close. He needed to get out of here.
He coaxed Jason into sitting up, but the other boy’s eyes were still dull and blank. He was just like Lee had been that first day:
silent, dazed and almost entirely unresponsive. She’d only improved after
Neman
worked that
counter-spell on her
.
Inside Filo’s head, something clicked. Drawing upon his memories of Lee’s first night in the apartment, he placed his hands on Jason’s shoulders, squeezing gent
ly. As Jason’s hazy eyes widened
, Filo released a rush of his own energy, channeling it into Jason. He focused on the revel magic, forcing it out of Jason’s system, dissolving it.
He’d been in this revel for a comparatively short time; there was less magic clinging to Jason than there had been with Lee, making it easier to disperse.
Still, by
the time he drew back from Jason, Filo was light-headed from the swift and large release of energy.
Jason, on the other hand, appeared quite clear-headed, if a little surprised.
Even some of the nearby humans were stirring slightly, looking around with a bit more life in their eyes.
“Filo?”
Jason
asked, blinking like someon
e just woken from a deep sleep. He was staring at the other humans strewn about in the semidarkness, groping for words. “Filo—where are we?”
“The Summerhill revel.”
“What happened?”
But a
sinking feeling came over Filo. A pair of knights strode into the grove, glowering down at them—no doubt drawn here by the large burst of magic Filo had just released.
“I hate to break it to you,”
he
said, clapping Jason on
the shoulder
as he let the glamour over his clothes dissolve away
. “But we’re in
trouble.”
* * *
The place for “undesirables and intruders” turned
out to be
on the far western side of the
revel
, sepa
rated
by a ring of seven-feet-tall mushrooms with thick stalks and wide caps that cast sinister shadows. Thick, tough grass grew around and between the mushrooms, closing any gaps. As Nasser and Lee were marched up to a pair of grim-looking armed knights guarding the area, Nasser couldn’t help but think it resembled an animal pen.
“We found these two in the woods,” Marcan announced. “Byrony apprehended the girl.”
“Very well,” said the first knight. “We’ll take care of this.”
“Actually,” Byrony said, “they are rather valuable. Marcan and I will be going to see the Queens to announce
their
capture. B
e careful with them.”
Marcan nodded. “It’s true, Loman,” he assured the knight. “I expect we’ll return soon enough to collect her. Just keep an eye on them.”
Both knights dipped their heads to Marcan, then stepped aside. The mushrooms parted, creating a small opening. Nasser grimaced as he felt Marcan’s sword dig into his back again, but he trudged forward without complaint,
with
Lee
just
a step behind him.
“I wouldn’t touch those mushrooms if I were you,” the second knight warned them. “They release a deadly toxin if they’re tampered with.”
“
Terrific
,” Nasser
muttered
. Behind him, the mushrooms moved back in
to place. The moment the entrance
closed, the pen beca
me entirely and eerily silent.
But unnatural as the silence was, neither of them was keen to break it. There wasn’t much to say.
They sat there for a long time on the spongy grass, their hands entwined. Waiting. There was no way to escape this pen, not with guards posted at the only entrance and deadly mushrooms on all sides. But if they were moved to another location, then maybe they could
…
Nasser’s gaze snapped up and around as the mushrooms parted again. Two people were shoved through the opening. His insides turned to water as he recognized them: Filo and Jason.
For a long, quiet minute, the four of them stared at one another. Lee spoke first.
“So how’d they bust you?” she asked bluntly.
Filo shrugged. “I was fixing Jason,” he said. “He was magic-sick, like you were that first day. And
…
it sort of attracted attention. You?”
“We got caught in the woods,” Nasser said. “By Byrony and a knight. She must’ve been on the lookout for us. She knew we’d come.”
Filo groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Th
is just gets better and better,” he muttered. “
What now?”