Ash (23 page)

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I am not sure. It is tradition. I believe that the huntress was cal ed to the fairy court annual y—at least this is what the stories say—and that annual visit was shortly after Yule, near the first of the new year. Perhaps that is why the song is stil sung today at that time.”

“You speak of the fairy court as if you believe in it,” Ash said, taken aback.

“I wil not discount anything that has endured in our traditions for so long,” said Kaisa, with a small grin.

“Does the King share your views?”

“He . . . he does not hold much with the old ways,” Kaisa 195

Ash

said slowly. “But I am free to do as I must to tend the King’s Forest.” She paused, watching Ash finish the last of the venison, and then said, “On the subject of traditions . . . you have never told me your favorite fairy tale.”

Ash grimaced slightly. “I am not sure if it is my favorite anymore, but when I was younger I would read it over and over.”

She hesitated before she began the tale, wondering if it might reveal something about her that she wished to keep secret. But perhaps the wine had loosened her tongue, for it did not seem so unusual to sit there across from the King’s Huntress and tel her the tale of Kathleen, a girl who wandered into a fairy ring and longed so much to return to that world that she left this one behind.

Kaisa listened intently, and when Ash was finished she said,

“That was not a particularly happy tale.”

“No,” Ash agreed, “but I think that few of them are.”

“Why is that?”

“I think that they are meant to be lessons.”

“For children?”

“For life,” said Ash. “Do not be seduced by false glamour; do not shirk your duties; do not wander off alone into the Wood at night.” As she spoke she thought wryly,
not that I’ve
always followed those rules
.

“Do not fal in love with those who cannot love you,” added the huntress. “Did you learn from those lessons?”

“Not all of them,” Ash said. “Did you?”

“I believe,” said Kaisa, “that I am still learning.” This time when they fel into silence, Ash did not feel the need to fil it with questions. Somehow during the course of the evening 196

MALINDA LO

things had shifted, and it was just like it had been when they had ridden together in the hot summer. They could hear the sounds from the bonfire outside the laughter of men and women, snatches of conversations about hunting. Ash had been fingering the stem of her goblet, looking at its fine workmanship, when Kaisa asked, “Wil you come to the bal ?”

She raised her eyes, and there was a warmth, an invitation, in Kaisa’s face that she had not expected. She felt herself respond to it, a flush of heat rising inside her. “The Souls Night ball?”

she said, her mouth going dry.

Kaisa nodded. “Yes. Will you come?”

“I—I don’t know,” Ash stammered.

“I would like to see you there,” Kaisa said, and her voice was gentle.

Ash did not know what to say. She felt as though she had stepped into someone else’s shoes—for surely the King’s Huntress could not mean to invite
her
? But Kaisa did not seem confused, and she was waiting for an answer, so Ash said, “I will try.” And then she realized that it was late and she had to return home to wait for her stepmother, and she rose from the table so quickly that she banged her hip on it. “I am sorry; I have to go home,” she explained. “Thank you so much for the food, and for al owing me to interrupt your evening.”

Kaisa stood up as wel , and she stepped forward and took Ash’s hands in hers and kissed her on both cheeks. “Good evening, then,” Kaisa said.

Ash was momentarily astonished, for the huntress had never done that before, though it was the customary farewel practiced by the people in that country, and her cheeks burned.

197

Ash

“Good evening,” she managed to say, and Kaisa pul ed back the door for her politely, and Ash stepped out into the chil y night. Her legs felt slightly wobbly, but she told herself it was from the wine, and the cold air was welcome on her skin.

On the way home, Sidhean fel into step beside her, and for the first time in a long time, she was startled by his arrival. But when she saw him, his presence flooded into her; it was like ink being released into water, and it was a relief, for it was familiar. She put her hand on his arm and let him lead her off the path and toward the river, where the water rushed by with the half-moon wavering in the moving surface. They stood together for long moments without speaking, breathing in the cool night air. She felt him take her hand and press something into her palm, and when she looked down she saw a ring set with a moonstone.

“Why are you giving me this?” she asked.

“You are as deserving of fine jewels as any princess,” he said, and when she looked at him the moonlight skipped off his face as if it were a mirror, and she could not see his expression. She held the ring up to the pale light and it glimmered with a slow, white, fairy’s fire, and she knew that it was ful of magic. There was more to this ring than mere ornamentation.

He said, “I cannot al ow you to forget our agreement.”

“I would never forget,” she said, her voice strained, for she found it difficult to speak when he was so close to her.

198

MALINDA LO

“Put it on,” he said, and she could only obey him. When she slipped it on her finger, she had the disquieting sensation that she was being swal owed by him, that he was al around her, and though it was uncanny, it was not entirely unpleasant. In fact, in some ways it was strangely exhilarating, and she shivered. He caressed her cheek with his fingers, and she covered his hand with hers so that the ring was touching him, too.

“It is too much,” she managed to say, breathless.

He was rubbing her hands between his, and he said, “It is only an adjustment. Now, you see? It is easier.” Gradually, the sensation eased a bit—she no longer felt as though al she could see was Sidhean, and his features swam into focus before her. It felt, now, as though he made more sense to her, as if the ring were binding her to him. He smoothed her hair back from her face, cupping her chin in his hands, and she was forced to look up at him, his eyes like crystals glittering in the dark. “I do not trust human girls,” he said, and there was a cruel tone in his voice that she had not heard in years. He abruptly let go of her and she crumpled down to her knees, her breath rasping in her lungs.

“Did you trust my mother?” she demanded, for his words had awakened a smal flicker of anger in her, and she fought back her fear of him with it.

“Your mother!” he roared, and she felt the blast of his frustration radiating out from him like a bonfire. She raised her arm as if to defend herself, but as quickly as his fury had erupted it was choked off, and he was holding himself up against a nearby tree as if he could not stand without it. “Your mother,” he said in a calmer voice, “has nothing to do with 199

Ash

our agreement.”

Though he seemed weakened, she stood as if pul ed by him, and he straightened up and drew her into his arms. She felt her chest heave; she was afraid she was going to cry. She felt the pulse of his body beneath her cheek, pressed against the fastenings of his cloak, and she realized for the first time that he wore a cloak that night—it was nearing winter, and the thought that he might need the warmth as much as she did made her feel grounded, relieved. It gave her the courage to say, “I have another wish,” though she knew that if one wish were foolish, a second was far more dangerous.

She felt the rumble of his voice beneath her cheek as he asked, “What do you wish for, Aisling?”

“I wish to go to the masquerade on Souls Night,” she said in a small voice.

He reached up and stroked her hair, and said, “You have stil not paid for your first wish.”

“I will pay,” she insisted. “But please, I beg you, grant me this second wish.”

With a sigh, he stepped back from her and held her at arm’s length. “So be it,” he said.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“The enchantment wil be weaker, this time, for you wil be farther from the Wood,” he said. “It wil end at midnight, so you must return home before then.” He bowed his head. “You must go home. It is time.”

“Sidhean,” she began, but he was gone before she even finished saying his name. Just as it always had, his sudden departure left an ache inside her: Every time, it felt like he took a 200

MALINDA LO

part of her with him.

201

Ash

Chapter XVII

he morning of the Souls
Night masquerade dawned with an unusual fog, and when Ash went out into the garden to T pump water for her stepsisters’ baths, the King’s Forest was invisible behind the cool white mist. It burned off during the course of the morning, and each time she went back outside to empty dirtied bathwater into the meadow, she could see a bit farther, until at last, by noon, the sun was clear and cold above. After lunch, Ash helped Ana into her gown, a green-and-blue velvet dress with a high collar and a feather-trimmed skirt. When Ana held the feathered mask over her eyes, she looked like a peacock. Clara wore a dress of brown and cream velvet, and her feathered mask, in comparison, made her look like a sparrow. Ash spent longer than she should have braiding smal pearls into Clara’s hair, so that when Jonas drove into the courtyard with their carriage, they were late. Just before sunset, they left to dine with their cousins in the City before continu-202

MALINDA LO

ing on to the masquerade at the palace.

Ash closed the door behind them and went back into the kitchen, rubbing her hands over her face. She had just begun washing the dishes that were stacked in the sink when there was a knock on the back door. She dried her hands off, took a deep breath, and went to open it. Once again, there was a satchel sitting on the doorstep. This time, it was made of blue velvet tied shut with a fine silver chain; on the ends of the chain dangled sapphire baubles. She picked it up and brought it into her room, where she poured the contents out onto her bed. An ice-blue silk dress flooded out over her patchwork coverlet like a rush of cool water. The bodice was embroidered with hundreds of tiny crystal beads in a complex pattern of flowers, and in the dusky light that came through the window, the bodice shimmered like the scales of a fish.

She took off her faded brown dress and put on the new one, and it felt like wearing the weight of spring: soft and warm, with the breath of an evening breeze over her skin. There were shoes, as wel satin slippers in the same ice blue and a mask shaped like a butterfly, embedded with what seemed to be hundreds of tiny diamonds and sapphires. There was a shimmering silver rope studded with diamonds that she braided into her hair, and there were diamond pins to fasten her hair in place. At the bottom of the satchel was a black wooden box, and inside on a bed of velvet was a necklace in the shape of a diamond cobweb with a great sapphire at its center. She put it on and looked at herself in the smal mirror on the back of her door, and the jewels blazed with an unearthly light, shedding a pale, cold glow over her face. She put on the mask, which was 203

Ash

tied with a silken cord so thin she could barely see it, and at last she took out her moonstone ring and slipped it on her right hand. She had a fleeting sensation of eyes on her—

Sidhean’s eyes—but when she blinked the feeling was gone, and the ring was only a ring.

She was ready when she heard the knock on the front door.

She opened it to find a slender, short man who came barely to her shoulder. He was dressed al in white, and in the light of the lantern he held, his eyes glittered gold. He said to her in a strangely accented voice, “We are here to bring to you to the ball.” Behind him in the courtyard stood an elegant carriage drawn by a pair of matched white horses. A footman stood waiting near the carriage door, dressed like the man in front of her. She knew that they were no more human than the woman she had seen in her kitchen on the day of the hunt, but this time, she did not have any desire to ask questions.

She came outside and closed the door behind her, al owing the footman to help her into the carriage. She felt the carriage shift slightly as the driver and the footman stepped onto the driver’s seat, and then they were off, moving more smoothly than any carriage she had ever ridden in before. The seat was upholstered in white satin, and though it was a cool night, the interior of the carriage was warm as summer. She looked out the window, but she could see nothing; even when she pressed her face to the glass there was only dark outside, and she could hear no passing sounds. They traveled quickly, for it seemed to be scarcely a quarter of an hour before the carriage pul ed to a stop and the footman leapt off his perch to open the door for her. She stepped out into the palace courtyard, which was fil ed 204

MALINDA LO

with a great many carriages and lit by hundreds of globe-shaped lanterns hanging high overhead. The palace doors were open, and light and sound came at her in a great torrent after the silence of the carriage ride. The masquerade had already begun.