“This is awful,” I said. “Why does this place have to exist?”
Líle crumpled into a heap, slipping out of our arms. “There’s no point,” she said. “Kill me now. I’ll never be happy again. I’ll—”
Brendan swung her into his arms. She whimpered, but she stopped pleading with us to let her go back.
I stayed close to him, holding to his shirt. “I hope the others got out.”
“We’ll see them if they don’t,” he said. “I’m sure of that. This place is so strange.”
“It’s more than strange,” I said. “It’s horrible. Poor Líle.”
“She’s caught up in it,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“What if she stays like this? What if the Watcher can’t help her?”
He gave me a long hard look that told me everything. I sucked in a breath, feeling a stitch in my side.
“Stay close to me, Cara,” Brendan said, gasping against the wind battering us. “I’m afraid you’re the only thing stopping me from getting trapped in one of these memories.”
Thankfully, the dress vanished, making it easier for me to walk. But we stepped right into a thunderstorm. Despite knowing it wasn’t real, and that the effects would only last for as long as the memory, I shivered, drenched to the skin.
Then, I saw them. I froze, pulling on Brendan’s arm. “There’s a duel! You don’t feel like you’re being pulled into the memory, do you?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “But we can wait until the duel is over if it makes you feel better.”
I moved closer to him as two men attacked each other with swords. One was young and carefree, obviously inexperienced. The duel didn’t last long. The younger man soon lay on the ground, spitting up blood. He reached out, begging for something. Maybe mercy, maybe to be put out of his misery. His opponent simply walked away.
Brendan urged me on. We stepped over a bleeding body that vanished into smoke.
We caught up to the others. Dubh and Bekind were leading them right into a memory I recognised.
“This again,” I whispered, seeing a blond-haired little girl and a raven-haired boy run together around some black rose bushes. Nella stared at the children, her face aghast with horror.
“Get on Dubh,” Brendan told me. “I’ll carry Líle in case she runs again.”
I didn’t want to leave him, so I kept a hold of his arm as I reached for Dubh’s reins. I held on to the horse and walked next to Brendan.
The Hauntings seemed to have gone wild, throwing every possible memory at us. I wasn’t sure if the moisture on my face was from rain or tears. A fire blazed next to us, buildings burning down, screams echoing on the wind. We kept our heads down and concentrated on leaving before it was too late. Dubh moved faster, as if he knew we were close to the end. I let him lead.
The memories slowed. The power dissipated. The mist thinned.
In the distance, I saw a figure standing next to a dog.
“It’s the Watcher!” I shouted. “We’re almost there.”
Brendan and I ran alongside Dubh as the others galloped ahead of us.
When we reached him, the Watcher eyed Líle with concern. “Bring her to the house. I felt the Hauntings come with you. Get her in quick before anything escapes. Everyone else, go to the stables.”
Brendan hurried down the path to the Watcher’s home. I followed, unable to wait. The Wife and the pixies waited at the door.
“Carry her up the stairs,” the Wife said, removing her apron.
The pixies cooed over Brendan as he stepped over the threshold with a pale, shaking Líle.
“Cara, come with me,” he said.
I followed him up the stairs, constantly jostled and pinched by the pixies. I could have hit back, but that wouldn’t have made me feel any better.
There was already a bath ready. The water steamed, emitting a strange aroma. Brendan laid Líle on the bed. The pixies cowered at the door.
“Oh, get out of here, you useless pair!” the Wife screamed. “Go stir the pot. Sort out the guests before I get down there, or you’ll be sleeping with the horses for the rest of your life!”
The pixies fled.
“I’ll help,” I said, moving to the Wife’s side as she began to remove Líle’s clothing.
“Now, now,” the Wife murmured soothingly as Líle huddled in a ball. “We’re helping you.”
“Líle,” I whispered, “it’s me, Cara.”
She looked up at me, but her eyes were wide with terror. She stopped struggling, but the beautiful fire in her eyes was fading. What did that mean?
The Wife unbuttoned Líle’s shirt. “She’s probably seeing all sorts of things. Doesn’t know where she is, I bet. You keep talking to her, girl. Keep her calm.”
I did as I was told, but I wasn’t sure it was helping. Líle’s eyes kept glazing over as tremors rocked her body. Finally, the Wife was done. Brendan carried Líle into the bath.
“You’ll have to hold her down,” the Wife said. “The cold’s stuck in her, and it’ll hate the heat.”
When Brendan eased Líle into the water, she came to life and flipped out. We held her down, the three of us pressing her body beneath the water, no matter how much she begged and pleaded.
I stroked her hair, trying my best to keep her head above the water. We were all drenched from the splashing. Slowly, Líle calmed down, but she began to shake uncontrollably again. She stared at nothing, her lips trembling. I felt sick that the bedraggled girl was the same one who had told me to snap out of my own weakness. I stared up at Brendan to avoid looking at her. He held my gaze steadily.
“The first shock is over for her, so go on down and eat,” the Wife said. “I’ll watch her and call you when I need you.”
I hesitated, reluctant to leave Líle, but Brendan coaxed me out of the room. In the hallway, Brendan took my hand and stopped me from descending the stairs.
“What?” I asked.
He gathered me in his arms and hugged me.
I held on, comforted by his presence. “I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I know. But they’ll help her. They know what to do. You don’t dare doubt the Wife, surely?”
Laughing, I wiped the sudden tears from my eyes.
“Let’s eat. You’re looking as ill as Líle.”
We headed downstairs. Half the group was on the sitting room floor. We moved into the kitchen, where Drake was eating. He moved over to make room for us. It was a tight fit.
“Is she all right?” he asked.
Brendan shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Did anyone take care of Dubh?” I asked.
Drake gave me an odd look. “Of course. The horses need rest. The journey’s been hard on them. We’ve ridden them too hard since we set out.”
The Watcher returned with his dog. “Anything left in the pot?” He dished up a bowl.
Dymphna moved into the other room, and the Watcher took her place at the table. I could barely swallow the food. I had destroyed my friend because I had the great idea to go on some kind of stupid faery quest. I glanced at Brendan. Was it worth it?
“I blame myself,” the Watcher said. “I should have kept her here in the first place. She was too vulnerable to her fear of the place, and they clung to that. We’ll keep her here for a time, make sure she gets better.”
My head jerked up. “Keep her here? She has to come with us.”
“If she’s not better by the morning, then I’m certain it’ll be at least three weeks before she’s okay to travel,” he said. “I’m not new to this, missy.”
“I’m not…” I shook my head. “I’m not doubting you. I’m just… I’ll stay with her. If that’s okay?”
“A human this close to the Fade and everything else? I can’t in good conscience let you do that.”
“I can’t leave her here. I can’t just leave her alone.”
“She won’t be alone,” he said briskly. “She’s a strong woman, tougher than most. Her wa
rrior spirit will fight back, and the Hauntings will be gone from under her skin soon enough.”
“We can’t wait here for weeks,” Drake said.
“No, you can’t,” the Watcher said. “There’s something odd going on in the realm. You need to go back and face your duties.”
“But Líle…” I trailed off, not knowing how to argue.
“She might recover by morning,” Brendan said. “Don’t worry about it until then.”
I finished eating while they discussed their precious realm. Didn’t they realise that Líle was important? I couldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t let her try to recover without a friend to help her.
Chapter Twenty
I lay in front of the fire. The Wife had forced us to sit still while she stitched together our worst wounds, and my leg still throbbed from her work. Anya, Bekind, Grim, and Realtín were with me in the living room. We curled up together, listening to the whimpers from upstairs.
“I want to go up there,” I said.
“The Wife might not approve,” Anya said.
“I don’t give a shit. Líle needs us.” I got to my feet, feeling irrationally angry at the rest of the group for not caring more.
I strode upstairs, followed by Bekind. When I knocked on the bedroom door, the Wife opened it, looking exhausted.
“Did you need something?” she asked, peering over my shoulder.
I followed her gaze to see that the rest of my friends stood behind me. “We want to spend time with her,” I said. “We need her to know that we’re here for her.”
“I don’t think she knows much.” The Wife pursed her lips. “Come on in then. I’ll sort out blankets for you, and you can sleep on the floor. It’ll give me a chance to rest.”
We stepped into the room. Bekind immediately jumped onto the bed and curled up beside Líle, who was shaking violently. Her lips were purple, and the burning embers under her skin were muted to a pale glow.
“She looks worse,” Anya whispered.
“It always gets worse before it gets better,” the Wife said, then she left the room.
I moved closer to the bed and said Líle’s name. She didn’t respond at all. Realtín darted about the room, red and gold, but Líle showed no sign that she saw any of us.
“She’s in the right place,” Grim said, but he didn’t sound sure.
The Wife returned with blankets and mugs of hot tea. She patted my shoulder. “We’ll take good care of her. Don’t you worry.”
After she went back downstairs, we sat on the floor and leaned against the bed. Líle seemed to be asleep, but she kept tossing and turning, muttering under her breath.
“I’m so worried about her,” Anya said.
“It’s my fault,” I said. “She’s only here because of me.”
“You didn’t make her come,” Grim said.
“Didn’t I?” I stared into my cup. “Drake and Brendan, and probably Sorcha, think I compel people into wanting to make me happy. What if that’s true?”
“You haven’t forced any of us,” Grim said.
“The leanan sídhe—” I began.
“It’s nonsense,” Realtín said. “You’re not that little witch. We’ve all been compelled before. This isn’t it.”
“She’s right,” Anya said. “We’ve gone through everything there is. The problem with Líle right now is a loss of power. She felt weak and out of control. That just gave the Hauntings a chance to press in on her. She’ll get through this. I doubt she’ll regret a moment of the journey.” She hesitated. “When it’s all over.”
“I was really starting to believe Brighid was watching over us,” I admitted. “I fell for the whole thing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little faith,” Anya said. “I don’t think you realise exactly what we’ve done. We’ve made it through the most dangerous journey imaginable in an unstable land, and we brought back two souls to boot.”
“Yeah,” I said wryly. “That.”
“She’s pretty hateful,” Anya said. “Even for…” She gave me an apologetic look. “She’s on a higher tier than us. We’re not destined to get along with her in any case, but she’s worse than I even expected.”
“At least there’s no family resemblance,” Realtín said cheerily.
I laughed. “Always a plus. I can’t believe I came from something so… so…”
“You didn’t,” Grim said. “She has nothing to do with you. Don’t define yourself by this creature. You’ll probably never see her again after this.”
We lay down to sleep, but my mind was whirling. My fae descendent was back in the world. I was curious about her, despite her rudeness. More importantly, Brendan was back, and he didn’t have any plans to start a war. That had to count for something. I fell asleep with worries on my brain, so it was no wonder my dreams weren’t exactly pleasant.
Moaning woke me. I sat up to see Líle staring into space. I carefully got onto the bed and held her, feeling her shaking in my arms. We lay there together until I dozed off.
When I awoke again, Líle was staring at me intently.
“Cara,” she said. “You’re Cara.”
“That’s right. And you’re Líle.”
“I know Líle,” she said thoughtfully. “But I’m not sure that’s me. I see two lives, two sets of memories. How am I supposed to know which one is real?”
I cupped her cheek. “As long as you know I’m your real friend, it doesn’t matter which set of memories you’re attuned to.”
Tears leaked from eyes that I had once compared to a smouldering fire. Now they were ash. “I’m terrified. I can’t stop seeing things that I don’t want to see, feeling things that I never want to feel again.”
“We’re going to get you better,” I whispered. “No matter what. The Watcher and his wife know how to help you.”
“You can’t stay with me,” she said. “You’re leaving soon.”
“I’ll stay with you for as long as it takes. Don’t you worry about that.”
She shook her head. “I heard them talking. The pixies. They said you wanted to stay. The kings won’t allow that. Not after everything. You need to get back to the human realm before it’s too late. Don’t be their summer wife, Cara. Don’t do that.”
“I won’t. Try to sleep. I’ll be right here.”
“Don’t leave me tonight,” she begged. “There are so many things in here. I see them all of the time. They won’t go away, won’t leave me alone. They’re haunting me, Cara, and I don’t know what’s real. I can’t take it. I’d rather die.”
“You would not rather die,” I said sharply. “You warned me before about self-pity.”
“Did I?”
“Don’t you remember? You threatened to throw me in a shower if I didn’t get on my own two feet. You made me snap out of my misery. I’m going to do the same for you, Líle, even if it takes kicking your arse up and down these stairs every day for a month.”
She favoured me with a weak smile. “I think I love you, little human.” Then her face creased with pain, and she began to cry again.
I held her in the dark, stroking her hair while I cradled her like a child. I kept talking to her, reminding her I was there. I filled her head with stories from my childhood, and finally, she slept.
***
The next morning, Líle was clearly not better. I helped the Wife bathe her again, then I fed her, mocking her until she swallowed some spoonfuls of porridge. I talked as though we were all leaving together, but we both knew she was staying put. She had no other choice. We couldn’t risk that tough journey with such a fragile mind. Besides that, the Watcher wasn’t going to let her leave until he was sure she was clean of the Hauntings.
Líle napped after her breakfast. The Wife came into the room and ushered me downstairs to eat. Brendan, Drake, Grim, and the Watcher joined me. Arlen and Anya were outside giving the horses rub downs, while the rest were taking turns bathing.
“We have to leave,” Brendan said.
I
lifted my tea and sipped it. “Have a good trip.”
“Cara,” Drake said gently, “you have to come with us.”
“Nope. I really don’t. Líle can’t be left alone.” I looked at the Watcher. “I get that you know what you’re doing, but I know my friend. She needs somebody who cares about her to stay with her. She needs someone to remind her of her memories, of what’s real.”
The Watcher smiled. “How did you know that?”
“She told me she sees two whole sets of memories and that it’s hard for her to focus on what’s real and what’s just a stolen memory. She was better last night because she had me there.”
“And if you lose your mind?” Grim asked. “What will keep her on the right path then?”
I felt hurt. “Grim, you’re against me on this?”
“I listened to you both last night,” he said, looking at me steadily. “Even she knows it’s dangerous for you to stay here. She’ll understand.”
“But I brought her here.”
He tapped the table. “You didn’t. We all had our reasons for coming for Brendan. You have no power over us, no matter what our idiot kings like to say to make themselves feel better.”
My mouth dropped open. “Holy shit, Grim.”
He looked at the kings and shrugged. “It’s true. If either of you were honest with yourselves for a moment, you would both know it as surely as you know you have hands and feet.”
“I love you, Grim,” I said, amused beyond belief. They had totally been told off by a brownie. “But I’m still staying.”
“Realtín and I have discussed it already.” He picked up his fork to continue eating. “We’re staying. You’re going with the kings.”
“No way. You two are like my family now. I can’t leave you here, too.”
“We’ll be fine.”
“But I… I need you.”
“Cara, you don’t need anyone but yourself.” He reached across the table to pat my hand. “You can’t be a martyr to your feelings. You have to do what’s best for you. The truth is, you’ve been ill, more than you’ve let on. I don’t know if it’s an effect of the fae realm or not, but I would feel a lot better if I knew you were safe. I have too much else to worry about. Realtín and I are staying with Líle, no matter what. I’m begging you to go to safety.”