Page 18 of The Fae’s Treasure

I have no handy place to lay Lady Deanna, so I make do and drape her over a tall counter in the center of the kitchen. “Do not roll off,” I command, hoping some of my powers work in the situation of commanding unconscious people.

“Bonwit!” I hiss, rushing to retrieve Rory and snapping my fingers to remove the spreading puddle under the puppy.

At least some of my skills work, but it’s hard, like pulling a hurricane off of a coastline—something I strive to avoid doing. My magical skills are usually simple and confined to my areas of expertise.

Every little action in this realm is an exertion.

Bonwit appears at my elbow. “You got him!” he cheers. Then, he takes in the woman on the counter, and his eyes go wide. “You killed her!”

“I didn’t! She’s very tired—and you look very bruised, still, so perhaps you’d better make yourself scarce before she puts two-and-two together,” I snap, struggling to unleash my child from the strange harness he’s in.

“You called for me, remember, m’lord?”

“I—yes! I’ve introduced myself as the neighbor,” I whisper, one eye on the sleeping form, “but I cannot get into her house. Saz must have warded me from it in some fashion. I’ll need the woman’s permission, but I daren’t wake her just yet. I need furnishings. Quickly! Human ones.”

Bonwit shakes his head in confusion. “Why don’t we simply take the child and go?”

“I promised I wouldn’t—”

“You what?” he shrieks (but it is a manly shriek).

“I had to! She made me.”

“Well, she didn’t say that I couldn’t take him! Give him to me.” Bonwit holds out his arms.

Instinctively, I do. Or at least, I begin to. I hold Rory in my arms, and my heart swells and thuds in a way that blots out the rest of the world. “I... I don’t want to take him from Deanna like this, but... Well, if he’s safe in our realm, then Saz can’t harm him. I’ll have to explain things to her,” I murmur, holding Rory close, kissing his fair forehead. One of his tiny hands wraps around my little finger, and the same level of vicious protectiveness I witnessed in Deanna grows in me at once.

This will break her heart. If she wakes up and finds us all gone, her child, her new neighbor—I suppose I could leave the dog... “It seems so wrong not to explain things. I could explain things. I’d have to, or she’d be so miserable, and that would hurt her. I promised no harm would come to her.”

Bonwit gives me a look that I’ve never seen before, a blend of such exasperation and disappointment. “You are talking yourself into corners. Look, if she really loves the babe, you will explain that this saves his life and protects him from Saz, and you’ll offer to let him visit—once Saz’s power is on the wane.” Bonwit firmly takes hold of Rory, eyes locked on mine. “You see?” he murmurs, throwing a glance at the sleeping Deanna. “How hard it is to be amongst them? Their emotions are so much bigger and stronger than ours.”

I suppose that’s true. I felt more fire and desperation, more pure power coming from Deanna in a few moments than I have felt from most of my fae brethren in eons. “Why is that?” I whisper, wings flexing, finally letting Rory fully go from my grasp, nestling him in Bonwit’s arms.

“They have so little time to live. They must feel everything as hard and fast as they can. Being with them is addictive, m’lord. I know how much you love your realm, but even you might be tempted to stay here after a time.” Bonwit gives me a sad chuckle, and then coos nonsense at Rory. “All right, wee man. Let’s get you home to your father’s castle. It’s a mess, you know, and you’ll have to have a nursery. I imagine your grandparents will sort that right out.” Bonwit winks at me.

I groan. Yes, my parents will descend upon me with equal measures of jubilation and disappointment, and then try to take over raising the child. They certainly won’t want him visiting his adoptive mother. “Go. I’ll be right behind. I will write a note and explain what’s happened. And put her on the floor,” I say as an afterthought, truly worried about the unconscious, deeply sleeping human rolling off the counter and breaking a bone.

“Right. Here we go, Rory.” Bonwit’s hand glides down the air, as if finding an invisible seam—parting the veil. Not all fae can do it, and you certainly can’t do it just anywhere. It seems to work well in Pine Ridge, and naturally it will work here, as I’ve purchased this house. That makes it fae territory.

Only Bonwit only disappears up to the shoulder, one arm leading through into a place of golden light and cool, damp air.

The rest of his body stays on a polished hardwood floor beside me, standing in an empty townhouse in the human realm. “Go,” I urge.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” he snaps. “Look, I... This is ridiculous. It’s like I’m bound to this plane. Give us a shove.”

“While you’re holding the baby?” I yelp. “No!”

“While I’m... Oh, that devil. That actual devil!” Bonwit cries, and suddenly hands Rory back to me. I barely press him to my chest, one hand under his frail head, when Bonwit winks out of sight, practically catapulted through the tear between realms.

“Oh, no,” I breathe.

Bonwit reappears, a grim look on his face. “Here. You try. I know you promised you wouldn’t ‘take’ him, so just plan on coming straight back. It’s a test.”

“Right,” I say, my tone matching his expression.

Not to boast, but by birth and practice, I am more powerful than Bonwit. I surge ahead and the veil parts easily, but won’t let more than the toe of my boot step through. “Hold him,” I grunt, and the second Rory is handed off, I glide home effortlessly, into a world of unfettered nature, light, wind, and rain. Beautiful. A feeling of instant peace. Truly, I know why some people have named it Tír na nÓg, Land of Youth.

And my son cannot enter it.