Sirensong

seemed to have no problem with the words—but instinct told me that if the restriction applied to any creatures of Faerie, it would apply to the Green Lady.

My knees steadied, and the vines that held me snaked away. Then the circle around me receded, and the Green Lady reformed into her humanoid shape. People rushed in to help me, so I didn’t see the Green Lady disappear back into the forest.

Ethan was the first to reach me, wrapping me in his arms, practically smothering me. His magic tingled over me, and I knew he was healing the myriad pinprick wounds the Green Lady’s thorns had left. I put my arms around him and clung to him, burying my face against his chest, reveling in his warmth and comfort.

“That was one of the bravest, stupidest things you’ve ever done,” he said into my hair. “You just scared ten years off my life.”

I let out a little laugh, adrenaline still pumping through my system. “You’re immortal, dummy.”

“I was before I met you,” he quipped.

I would have loved to have stayed right where I was, oblivious to the outside world as I reveled in the glory of Ethan’s arms. Unfortunately, the outside world had other plans. Henry was barking out orders, trying to get us all mounted up and on the move again. I reluctantly let go of Ethan and found my dad practically on top of us, glowering.

“You’ll ride with me the rest of the way,” he informed me. The look on his face promised I would not have a fun ride.

“Um, maybe I should go back to the wagon,” I suggested. “I’m kind of sore…”

“Nice try,” he said with a strained smile as he gestured his horse over.

I sent Ethan a pleading look, but he held up his hands and backed away. “Not getting in the middle of this one.”

“Wise,” my dad agreed, giving Ethan a significant look that sent him scurrying.

I expected my dad’s lecture to start the moment I groaningly got on the horse behind him. The fact that it didn’t just heightened the anticipation—which I’m sure was exactly what my dad wanted.

With the Green Lady no longer blocking the way, our caravan mobilized once more, climbing the hill to the circle of standing stones. It was a tight fit to get all the horses and wagons within the circle, but we managed it, packing into the center, leaving about a foot or two between those of us on the outside of the circle—like my dad and me—and the stones.

Apparently, we were leaving that space so that Henry would have easy access to the stones. On foot, he walked from stone to stone, touching each one and whispering something under his breath. I felt the magic gathering, stronger with each stone Henry touched.

By the time Henry was halfway around the circle, there was enough magic in the air that I had trouble drawing in a full breath. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, knowing it was only going to get worse.

“Dana?” my dad asked, concern in his voice. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping I sounded convincing. “Just a bit of delayed reaction. And a little freak-out about whatever’s about to happen.” I sucked in a breath of air, wishing Henry would just get on with it and let go of the magic before I passed out. I had to act as normal as possible, unless I wanted everyone in the entire caravan to know I could sense the magic.

“There’s no need to ‘freak out,’” Dad assured me, the words sounding kind of awkward coming from him. “Using the standing stones requires a lot of magic, but you won’t feel anything except for a moment of disorientation.”

Yeah, right, I thought as I fought for air.

“Hold on,” my dad said. “He’s going to activate the stones in a second, and the vertigo can be a bit uncomfortable.”

I figured the magic overload was so uncomfortable already I wouldn’t even notice a little vertigo on top of it. I was wrong.

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when a roller coaster is whooshing down a really steep hill? Well imagine that, only ten times worse, and combine it with the feeling of that roller coaster going upside down and sideways at the same time. That would be about how I felt when Henry’s magic activated the standing stones.

Even sitting down and holding on to my dad wasn’t enough to quell the falling feeling, and if he hadn’t held my arms against his body, I might have tumbled off the horse.

The only good news was that the effect didn’t last very long. Oh, and that I didn’t hurl, though my stomach gave the possibility serious consideration.

When I opened my eyes, we were still in the middle of a circle of standing stones, but these were situated in a broad clearing rather than on the top of a hill. I had to admit, that was rather cool—if also terrifying. The caravan started forward again, following a road that was far broader and more busily trafficked than any we’d yet been on. (Not surprisingly, considering we were now only a couple hours’ travel from the Sunne Palace.)

It was once we’d taken our habitual place near the back of the caravan that Dad’s not unexpected lecture began.

I bit my tongue and didn’t argue with him, because I knew it would do me no good. I hoped I’d never again have to step up to the plate like I had today, but I wasn’t about to promise not to. Elizabeth, in her terror, would have been shredded by the Green Lady’s embrace, and I would have drowned in guilt if I’d let that happen. I had done the right thing, and nothing my dad said was going to change my mind.

Chapter Twelve

It was about one hour after we’d passed through the standing stones when we came upon the first real town we’d seen since we’d left Avalon. Of course, this being Faerie, the town was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The Fae—according to my dad—were much more connected to the land than humans. They didn’t do row houses or apartment buildings or stuff like that. Even small homes came with at least a couple acres of land.

The homes were designed to blend with the surrounding forest, and some of them did it so well they were almost invisible, walls thickly covered in ivy, rooftop gardens making the whole house look like nothing more than an unusually steep hill. If I didn’t look closely at my surroundings I might have thought we were still traveling through uninhabited forest.

The illusion of traveling through empty forest was somewhat lessened when doors and windows opened, and people popped their heads out to watch our procession. I half-expected people to come running out of their houses throwing garlands of flowers—isn’t that how pompous princes are supposed to be received when returning home? —but no one did more than stand there and stare.

I know the Fae are way more reserved than humans, so I wasn’t really expecting such an enthusiastic greeting; however, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a tinge of disapproval in our reception, like Henry wasn’t everyone’s favorite person. It didn’t help that we were traveling down the only major road, and Henry’s people were forcing other travelers off to the side, like they didn’t have as much right to be on the road as he did.

No one protested the unfair treatment—stupid Fae class values!—but I caught more than one person shooting irritated and impatient glances our way. Once the prince was far enough past not to see, of course.

I thought after passing those first few houses we might eventually come to some kind of business district, a place with stores or inns or other, more town-like buildings, but the landscape remained the same, small, unobtrusive houses, spaced widely apart. There were no farms, no pastures, no orchards—nothing other than residences.

“Where’s the downtown?” I asked my dad.

“You’re looking at it,” he responded, and I wondered at first if there was more to the houses than met the eye. My father soon clarified. “The Sidhe do not engage in commerce as humans do.”

“But they have to get food and supplies from somewhere, right?”

“Yes, but those transactions are considered unattractive and are kept out of sight.”