A Thief of Nightshade (3 page)

She sat up, briefly noticing the glow of the moonlight as it bathed her window seat. “No,” she whispered. “I am not doing this.” She continued to try to talk

herself out of it as she got out of bed and turned her laptop back on. Taking a deep breath, she hit the download button and saved Dr. Sellars’ novel to her desktop.

She thought she remembered nightshade as a poisonous plant from an introductory biology class she’d taken, but looked it up to confirm it.

Such a shame, it’s a beautiful plant.

After turning off the computer one more time and trying yet again to fall asleep, she finally relented, made a fresh cup of coffee and settled into the window seat with a printed copy of Dr. Sellar’s work in hand.

They came like thieves in the night. Not so very long ago, when Man was busy hoarding his shares and plotting against his brothers, the Fae came and with an iron fist took Avalar–every man, child and beast. A great war was fought and many died trying to defeat them. Finally, in desperation, the royal court of Man made a binding covenant with the Faerie Queen.

Each generation, a son of Man—a prince —would be crowned the Faerie King and sacrifice his mortality so the Queen could retain her youthful reign. This in exchange for peace between the races. And so it was done. Every generation the eldest of the royal family came to the Queen’s Winter Court, forgetting everything of his life once he entered. He became King, only to wither at her side and wait for the moment when the next prince would take his place and let him die.

THE WATER FELT COLDER THAN SHE’D

anticipated and she immediately regretted jumping in. When she surfaced, she coughed up the water that had somehow filled her lungs, though she couldn’t recall having opened her mouth when she went under. She laughed at herself as she rubbed her eyes and hoped that her little brother

Harrington–Harry–hadn’t followed her to the cabin.

I have lost my mind.

That’s when she noticed that her eyes burned. Blinking, it took a few moments for her vision to clear. It also took a minute for the movement of the waves to register. She looked around, panicked to see that she was no longer at the lake. The ocean pushed her inland, where dense forests and high cliffs surrounded a black beach.

Oh, God. I’ve truly lost it.

She shook as she crawled to the shore.
Sand?
Sure enough, when she dug her fingers into it, it felt like sand.
Okay,
this is a little beyond hallucinating.

She heard the rumble of horses’

hooves like thunder in the distance. She’d spend too many years as a rider to mistake the sound for anything else. The shock proved too much and she couldn’t bring herself to move even as a dark mass of riders appeared at the crest of a nearby hill.

Where am I?

Before another thought could form, Aubrey was snatched up from behind and thrown onto the shoulders a giant furry beast. She cried out, which brought a giant paw to cover her mouth. She swore the creature shushed her. Once they had made it well past the wooded border, it dropped Aubrey onto the mossy forest floor.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” the creature asked.

She looked at it—
at him
—in mute disbelief.

It’s a bear, a talking bear. I don’t
remember taking any pills.

Another voice piped up to her left, quieter and quite small in comparison.

“Maybe she can’t talk. Do they all talk? It is a she, right? Maybe we should turn it over and look.”

Aubrey turned to find a reddish brown flying squirrel resting comfortably on its haunches beside her, its cheeks stuffed full of something, to the point that bits and pieces scattered about as it spoke.

It spoke, too! They’re speaking!?

The bear shook his huge head and walked to the tree nearest them, laughing, to rub his backside against the bark. “No, no. That’s not a good idea at all. It’s most definitely a she and unfortunately yes, most of
them
talk. Though, this one looks to be a little on the slow side.”

I’ve hit my head on the dock. I’m
dead. Harry will find me floating in the
water all bloated like a fish. My mother
will be horrified.

The squirrel came around and waved his little hand at her. “She doesn’t look so good. What if she’s a changeling?”

The bear answered with a low chuckle, “I doubt that my little friend—I found her too close to the ocean. Have you ever seen a changeling brave the waters?”

The bear’s words shook Aubrey from her stupor. She’d read of changelings in Jullian’s books—children stolen from the world of Man and raised in the Faerie court.

She looked up and managed to stutter, “I’m in Avalar?”

Both animals stopped their chatter and stared at her. The bear ambled closer to her. “Where else would you be?”

The squirrel laughed, more bits of food falling, but the bear’s dark eyes fell serious as he awaited her response.

Her gaze indeterminate, she chewed on her lower lip. “Jullian, why did you put this stuff into my head?”

The bear lowered to see her eye to eye. “Are you from the land of no magic?

Wake up and answer me!” An edge had crept into his tone; he sounded almost panicked.

She wanted to answer, but she shivered so much that she couldn’t speak.

All she could do was pray that Harry would wake her up soon and she vowed that she would get some professional help.

The squirrel had stopped laughing and had come to rest on the bear’s shoulder. “I’ve never heard of that world, where is Jullian?”

“It isn’t a world, little one,” the bear

said gravely. “It’s the Prince. He’s been brought back to Avalar.”

For a few seconds, Aubrey thought she heard Jullian’s voice. She opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light.

“She’s awake.” The bear came into view and her heart sank.

I’m still insane.

The space around her, though small, felt cozy and appeared to be the only room in what she guessed to be a cottage. A rich, savory scent filled her senses and she watched in amazement as a fox came to stand beside the bed, upright and fully clothed, with a cup in her hands.

“Here, dear, this will warm you up.

You’ve had quite a trip, I hear.” The fox’s voice sounded sweet and melodious. Her fur was a pretty shade of red, but had begun to gray a little around her snout and down her neck.

“You

wear

clothes,”

Aubrey

stammered.

The bear snorted, turning his back to them to fill his own cup with the soup.

“City folk. What’s the advantage of being a bear if you’ve still got to bother with buttons?”

“Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy because he hasn’t gotten much sleep these last few days. He never left your side but the once, you know.”

“Days? I’ve been out that long?” She took note of her clean clothing, brushed suede riding pants and ivory shirt. Her hair, soaked the last time she’d checked, hung dry past her shoulders.

The fox smiled. “You must have needed the rest and I didn’t think your health would fare too well if I left you in those wet things. Does everything fit all right? Your clothes are clean and dry now, if you fancy changing back into them.”

Aubrey tried to smile, but still reeled with disbelief. “Yes, it all seems to fit fine.”

“Oh dear,” the fox said, “where are our manners? We’ve not told you our names. I am Lilly and this woesome creature is Aislinn.”

The bear bowed his upper body in a strangely human gesture.

A little voice piped up to her left, “Lipsey, don’t forget me! My name is Lipsey.”

“Or you could just call him Lips, ’cause he never shuts up,” Aislinn grumbled.

Lilly frowned at him and offered the cup of soup to Aubrey. “What shall we call you, dear?”

“Aubrielle. Aubrey for short.” She’d only heard the name Aislinn once, it had come up in a late-night conversation with Jullian about what they would name their children. He’d wanted to name his firstborn son Aislinn—Ash for short.

“What a beautiful name,” Lilly said.

Aubrey, despite everything, was starving and lifted a spoonful of the soup to her lips then paused, the absurdity of it all sweeping over her. She gently dropped the spoon back into the cup.

“Problem, dear?” Lilly handed a smaller cup to Lipsey, her eyes trained on Aubrey.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,”

she said carefully. “But I have a mortgage.

I pay taxes. I have responsibilities. I am a grown-up and grown-ups don’t hallucinate that they are talking to animals. This can’t be real.”

Harry, where are you?

Aislinn came closer. “Aubrey, you said a name—Jullian. Do you remember that?”

She nodded. “Jullian is ... was ... my husband. I just left his funeral. He went missing and they found his clothes in the woods.
I’m still talking to a bear!”

“You asked if you were in Avalar.

Why?”

“Jullian’s books. He made this place up. He made all of you up. I did something really stupid, I jumped into the water at the lake and I’m dreaming about everything I read.” She looked up at the ceiling and added, “But I have to wake up now.”

“He wasn’t making it up, Aubrielle.

He was writing about his life before your world, about his life here. And I hate to break this to you, darlin’, but you aren’t dreaming.”

Aubrey laughed. That was, as Sam would say, beyond ridiculous.

“Did he ever mention me or Lipsey?”

“That’s the sedative I was apparently slipped. I’m kind of proud of myself for the additions really. I’m generally not the creative type. He did, however, mention the name Aislinn. It’s what he wanted to name our first child. That conversation must have made a bigger impression than I thought.”

Aislinn’s

features

remained

unreadable as he asked, “Have you ever met his family?”

The smile faded from her lips.

“And? You aren’t telling me anything that wouldn’t already be in my head.”

“Did he ever take you to where he was born or where he grew up?” Aislinn asked sternly. When Aubrey didn’t respond, he continued, “He only talks about his life from about the time he was twenty-five on? The Fae, the curse, all of it is real.”

“Okay ... I’ll be sure to make a mental note of all this so that when I meet with the shrink he can prescribe the right meds, because clearly I’m having issues.”

Aislinn growled and snatched a knife from the cutting board, then thrust it into Aubrey’s

hands.

“Here,

if

you’re

dreaming, then cut yourself and you’ll wake up. Go on, dig in deep ... see what happens.”

Irritated at his tone, she gripped the blade and had the tip a fraction of an inch from her skin when the bear snatched it away.

“Humans! Pinch yourself first. I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually use the knife.”

She clenched her jaw and did as he’d suggested–to her surprise, it really hurt.

“I wish I could tell you otherwise, Aubrey, sincerely I do, but you aren’t in your world anymore.”

“Then the prince in his books, Rowan ...” she trailed off.

“Prince Jullian Sellars of the Royal House of Rowan, the eldest son, fated to become the Faerie King.”