Page 115 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Finally, Sedge gestured at me, seeming also to unbind himself from some invisible weight. “As to your earlier questions, lady—yes. Werewolves exist, though if you ever cross one’s path, be assured you’re in mortal danger. Run.”
“I’ll remember that,” I said. “Thanks.”
“There are monsters akin to Frankenstein’s, though they aren’t as gruesome as the book describes. Wonderful read, by the by.”
“A bit macabre for my tastes.”
Sedge and Pete perked, shared a glance. Impressed that I’d read the book, maybe?
“And Santa Claus,” Pete said. “Unfortunately, Shorty, good ole Saint Nick passed well before even my time. You won’t find him climbing down your chimney in this world. Although, I’m certain he’s a right craic to be around at Yuletide in the Isle of Apples.”
“What’s the Isle of Apples?” I asked, bringing things once again to a hush. “Olea mentioned it earlier. I just thought it was a turn of phrase.”
“My Goddess,” Tansy breathed. “You really knownothingof faekind.”
I huffed. “Well, I—”
“It’s not her fault,” Pete, the same person always bitching about my ignorance, defended me. “She was raised to think she was human.”
“Even so,” Olea said, “she should’ve been taught the true religion.”
“I was.” At least, I thought so. “But I’ve never heard of that place.”
“Of course, you have, Shorty.” Pete angled toward me, his eyes warming. “It’s heaven.”
“Oh, I didn’t know it had a different name here.”
Ox clicked his tongue. “It’s not precisely heaven,” he corrected his friend, louder than necessary. “Heaven’s for humans. The Isle of Apples—called T?r na nÓg in auld Faence—is where the deities reside. It’s where the fae who Danu deems worthy live in eternal harmony—a much finer place than heaven.”
Pete’s dark brows drew together. “You ken well humans have passed into the Isle, Oxalis.”
“So few it hardly bears mentioning.”
Pete rolled his eyes.
“Ox and Pete like to argue over which is the superior species,” Olea informed me between sips of stew. “Mostly for fun.” She shrugged. “Sometimes they quarrel.”
“More than a few humans have passed to the Isle,” Sedge confirmed Pete’s assertion.
Pete turned a smug look on Ox, who waved him off.
“But they must’ve led impossibly heroic or extraordinary lives,” Sedge added.
“Or be soulmates,” Tansy said.
My hopeless romantic heart did a cartwheel. “Soulmates exist?”
Pete shrugged. “Aye.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. No wonder his clothes got so dirty. “Though they’re rare nowadays.”
“Why?”
He glanced over at the urgency in my voice, interested. “Several reasons. First, only crystal magic fae can mate souls, and they’re not being born as frequently as they once were. Second, with the portals closed, it’s difficult for those fae to find humans with the proper bond for mating—and only humans can be mated. And third—” He sighed. “As with anything in this place, politics muddles the proper way of things. Thanks to complaints from many void fae, any crystal fae wishing to mate a pair of humans must petition the Divine Cadre first, to ensure a proper mating and a proper balance of power. In the past twenty years, those stuffy old Cadre members—all affluent Danann males, mind you—have approved precisely zero petitions.”
How dare they!
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would people complain about soulmates? Too much love in the air or something?”
Pete smiled. “Truly, yes.”
