Page 58 of Fae Trials

“There’s no inner with them,” Helen replied with a chuckle.

Several horses grazed at the rapunzel growing around the tree trunk. We rode around them to the other side of the tree, which seemed to stretch forever. I chalked the experience up to some kind of intricate ward I probably wouldn’t understand.

“You used to be friends with the Fated,” I said.

She ran a hand through her orange hair. “Back before their wings glowed, we all sat together because our fathers were dukes.”

“What?” I stared at the side of her face. “For some reason, I thought those girls had been fated since birth.”

“Their wings glowed on Samhain.”

“When did you lose your magic?” I asked.

“The day before,” she replied.

A series of knots appeared on the tree’s bark, along with intricate swirls and patterns that seemed to be some sort of code. I didn’t ask, as I couldn’t help thinking about Helen’s former friends each becoming fated to the princes the same time she lost her magic.

Sucking in a deep breath, I asked, “Do you ever think—”

“All the time,” she said, her voice cracking with pain. “King Oberon wanted the princes to rule together with a single queen, and he was in talks with all the dukes about it. After Samhain, when fate supposedly assigned each prince a mate, the king and queen decided they would each rule the courts instead.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, wondering if whatever happened to Helen had a counter-curse. “Did you tell anyone?”

“My father,” she spat. “But he dismissed my suspicion as nonsense.”

We continued cantering around the tree, reaching the grazing horses I was sure we had seen from our approach from the poppy field. Maybe this ward required us to circle the tree a specific number of times.

“Is there such a thing as a faerie doctor?” I asked.

She slowed down to a trot. “My father sent for a healer who couldn’t find anything wrong with me and recommended me to the remedial class.”

“Oh.” It seemed fishy that the Duke of Medietas hadn’t done more to help his daughter. “Have you tried asking a hag?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Whatever for?”

“They seem to know everything or at least a way to start,” I said with a shrug.

Hags were virtually indistinguishable from old ladies until they demonstrated their power. While they didn’t have the magic or the majesty of high faeries, they could be just as effective in getting things done.

I trotted at Helen’s side, wondering how long it would take to enter the mound. When Dad went missing, the hag we paid to search for him had said she could find him, but she wanted a slice of my destiny. Sicily forbade me to make such a terrible deal, saying that Dad had probably snuck onto a UN vessel and would send for us when he had settled in the outside world. I used to think she was naive and overly optimistic, but now I wonder if that had just been a front to protect me from making a terrible sacrifice.

“Here we are.” Helen pulled on the reins, and her horse stopped.

A bark knot expanded into an archway that led into darkness. Helen turned to me and grinned. “Keep your eyes closed until you feel sunlight on your face.”

“Alright.”

The archway stretched large enough to accommodate us side-by-side on horseback, and we rode in. I tensed my muscles, ready for an attack in case the Mound had a ward as powerful and vindictive as the Royal Fae Academy’s.

“What happens if I open my eyes?” I whispered.

“It feels like falling,” she said. “The Mound is larger than the Isle of Fae because its levels stretch far beneath the sea.”

My insides trembled. Elijah once told me that if the inhabitants of the Mound ever left, there wouldn’t be enough land on the surface to accommodate them all. It made sense, considering that creatures like drakes and fire sprites lived in its depths.

Images of those bat-winged faeries filled my mind. They probably dwelled in the level of evil. “Are we going to a specific area?”

“You can open your eyes, now.”