Page 66 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Like savages?I wanted to snark, knowing that was the term often imposed upon those the aristocracy—in any time in history—sought to subdue and oppress for their own benefit.
“Which is why your Seelie subjects are leery of allowing them into the higher ranks at Court,” Briar continued. “Your father thought he could change that by bringing Unseelie fae into his inner circle, giving them public service positions, but his efforts were wasted. Mostly thanks to Gentian.”
Teeth in my leg—membranous wings—bloody last breaths—
I shook myself from spiraling into another depressive funk, wishing Briar would just stop usingthatname.
“What are Dananns then? The upper class? The Brahmins of the fairy caste system?”
“That’s a great comparison.” Briar peered over his shoulder. “That might change one day, but for now—I’m afraid there’s a major culture shock coming your way.”
He seemed content to accept the order of things, but I’d already be making plans to dismantle such an unfair system. Wasn’t that the one virtue of an absolute monarchy? No red tape to prevent immediate change. A decree from me—or Briar—would become instant law.
Surely, Briar wouldn’t allow discrimination like that to stand unchecked if he were king.
Briar paused as we rounded a curve, wiping a trickle of sweat off his cheek. Peering around him, I spied distant vines of smoke. Smoke meant chimneys, which meant houses, which meant a town. And food.
“It’s up to you,” Briar said, spitting. “We could soldier on, eat off the land later. Or we could take a small break in that borough, buy something warm to eat, and rest our feet.”
“Is that really a question?” I hadn’t had a semi-decent meal in days. Survival in the fae realm still wasn’t as easy as conjuring a turkey dinner with a snap of the fingers. Magic had limits, which ended just before conjuring biological or agricultural substance. Briar said those gifts were Danu’s alone, sustenance only attainable through traditional means.
Dust outlined the slant of Briar’s grin. “I’m asking because it’s risky. There’s a chance the villagers might notice we’re different, that we’ll stick in their memory.”
I frowned down at my dirty dress. If it wasn’t enough to fool the masses, then why couldn’t I just wear my shorts and tee-shirt? They’d be much less cumbersome.
“It’s your accent.” Briar rested his filthy hands atop his walking stick. “America was still in its heyday when the portals closed, so your dialect hasn’t taken root in this realm yet.”
“Hate to break it to you, bud, but you sound exactly like me.”
He scratched the space above his lip—whiskerless, despite him not shaving. “I had to learn that way of speaking, lass.” I reeled at his perfect Scottish burr. Briar shrugged. “Bet you wouldn’t have guessed that most Germanic and Celtic languages originated from auld fae dialects.”
I guessed that made sense if I believed my insufficient history lesson three days before. “Well, I need a rest, so we’ll have to chance it.” I lifted my chin. “Besides, I can mimic you well enough.”
“Okay. Let’s hear it.”
My lips slanted down. “You just did. That was it.”
His eyes widening, he swung his walking stick forward again. “Okay, then—let’s pretend you’re mute.”
Avenshire—what Briar named the borough—was a veritable half-mile long metropolis straight from aBerenstain Bearsbook. I’d never seen a place so picturesque.
Thick trunked trees as tall as redwoods served as buildings, rope-strung bridges connecting the upper stories. All were trimmed with windows, doors, and identifying signage. Most looked residential, like apartments. Businesses occupied the rest—quaint but thriving if their foot traffic were any indication.
An assortment of fae flitted around us as we hobbled the main promenade. All shapes, all sizes, all ages, all colors. I marveled at their differences—some subtle, some glaring.
Many had arched ears like me, some more elongated than others. Several had animalistic ears reminiscent of foxes, hounds, or fauns. Some ears were notched, others pierced, and more than a few were humanesque.
Ears weren’t the only attention-snagging features to blink at. Uncle Neel hadn’t lied about the flying. The number of ethereal beings shouldering wings amazed me. Some wings were robust and substantial, others diminutive, adorable. Yet, big, small, leathery, moth-like, feathered, or shimmering, holographic extremities grown through magic, they all served the same function—lifting one skyward.
I envied the multiple fae fluttering past us. According to Briar, our journey to the palace would take three weeks at our sluggish pace, and I could’ve killed for a set of wings to spare myself the radiating pain in my heels. Plus, having wings looked hella cool.
When I nearly stumbled into a female cyclops with plaited green hair, too busy ogling someone’s iridescent butterfly wings, Briar whisked me out of harm’s way. “Blending in means not looking like you just stepped off the goddamn boat.”
“I don’t.”I look like I just walked through a goddamn tree!
“Just stop gawking.”
I glowered, figuring I had a right to give as good as I was getting. Regardless of how my new brown hair dulled my features, I’d become the butt of many a rude and curious stare. Especially from faelets.
