When Magic Sleeps Page 5

  “Tell me,” she pleaded.

  “Because it is too late,” he said, his voice flat. Dead. “I should have approached you sooner. Should have sought another way. Before.”

  “Before what?”

  Winnie didn’t understand. She had felt his longing and his love in her dreams. Had felt her own feelings grown, wishing she could be more than a spectator watching from a painful distance. She never realized the longing had been for her. And now that they were together… She didn’t understand why this broke his heart.

  “What’s happened?” she demanded.

  His jaw clenched and he let out a long exhale.

  “I am betrothed. On the next new moon my marriage shall ally the Moraine with the Deachair, making us stronger and ensuring our survival.” He reached for Winnie, but pulled back at the last moment. “It is all but done.”

  11

  Cathair cursed himself a thousand times the fool for waiting this long to meet her. Of course he knew that a marriage would be arranged. But for all his watching and wishing, part of him believed his obsession with Winnie was nothing more than infatuation. He never thought he would truly love this girl.

  One evening with her and he knew that was a false hope.

  “It’s not too late,” she insisted. “You’re not married yet.”

  He wanted to laugh. She had so much faith, so much certainty. She believed things could change just because they wished it so. If only it were that easy.

  What bothered him most was how much she made him want to cast duty aside.

  The fault was not hers, but that made her dangerous. To him and to the future of his clan.

  There were dangers to her as well. Dreamers were a rare enough thing. That she was also a seer made her extremely valuable. One who can both see and interact with fae without special intercession and dreams of their world would be counted a powerful weapon. To know what enemies were planning, to hear private conversations, to see rival clan weaknesses. It would give whichever clan possessed her a distinct advantage.

  He allowed himself only a moment to consider how having Winnie in his palace might aid his clan. But that would mean breaking the betrothal, sending them into almost certain war with the Deachair.

  And her presence would make the Moraine a target of every other clan—not just those in North America. The dangers would far outweigh the advantages.

  Besides, she would be forever at risk.

  Any human in the veil was under constant threat. He would not subject Winnie to a life of fear and uncertainty.

  “There are traditions,” he replied, trying to convince her to abandon the idea of ever entering the veil, “rules you cannot possibly understand. You have no idea what my world is like. To bring a human into—”

  “I have no idea?” she echoed. “I have every idea. I have been living in your world every night for years. I know about the assassination attempt on the snow queen last year. I know about the solstice ritual when young fae maidens weave daisy chains and string them throughout the forest. I know about the rules of the court, the high council, the twelve kingdoms, the lost—”

  “Stop!” he shouted. “Stop,” he repeated, softer.

  He studied her for several long moments, his eyes tracing over the curve of her lips, the soft halo of her hair, the vibrant green of her eyes. This girl, this human, was more enchanting to him than any of the fae magics he had ever seen.

  That he wanted more than anything to bring her into his world only convinced him that he need to keep her far from it.

  Although Winnie knew how his world worked, she didn’t understand the truth at the heart of it. She needed to experience the magic that branded his clan as unseelie fae, to understand the darkness that ran in his blood.

  She had to see the veil.

  She would never wish to return.

  “I must show you something,” he said, helping her to her feet.

  With her hand in his, he led them farther into the forest. Over sprawling roots and past bubbling brooks. The magic of the natural world around him filled his spirit, while her gentle trepidation fed his magic. He led her deeper than most humans ever ventured. Only fae and other wild things dared seek out this corner of the woods. And not only because of the remoteness.

  The closer they moved, the more fear radiated from her.

  Fae magic protected the entire area and drove away all who would dare to enter. Created a wall of fear that both kept the veil safe and fed its magic with the artificial terror.

  Winnie’s hand trembled in his.

  “I’m not sure this is such a great idea,” she whispered, her voice shaking with fear.

  “Trust me,” he said, squeezing her tighter and pulling her forward. Ignoring how his magic thrived on her terror.

  When they were just yards from the veil, she tried to jerk away.

  “I can’t go any farther,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” he insisted, knowing that he had to make her go through this. He had to make her understand. “You’re with me and—”

  “No!” She struggled to pull her hand from his, yanking wildly. “No, I have to go! I can’t—”

  He spun her around and clamped a hand over her mouth before all the fae realm heard her shouts.

  His magic had not felt so strong in as long as he could remember.

  “Shhhh,” he soothed against her ear. “‘Tis the fae magic that builds your fears. That drives you away. It is one of our greatest protections.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as tears leaked from her eyes.

  “Your fear keeps us safe,” he whispered. “And it keeps us strong. You understand what it means to be unseelie? You understand that negative human emotions build our powers?”

  She managed a tiny nod.

  “Good,” he continued. “So you know this is magic. Feel it. Sense it. I know you can feel the magic.”

  She shook her head harder, fighting his request.

  “Try,” he insisted. “For me.”

  She stilled in his arms and then—with one long exhale—she relaxed. He uncovered her mouth but kept his arm tight around her waist.

  She shivered, but he felt the fear leave her body. He knew she was starting to feel the calmness of the underlying fae magic—not just the darkness meant to feed fears and drive dangers away, but the deeper, ancient force that gave his people life and powers. That kept their realm invisible to human eyes.

  She gasped and opened her eyes. “Oh wow.”

  “That is true fae magic,” he explained, turning her in his arms to face her. “That is the source of my powers. And yours.”

  Her face beamed.

  “Where... where does it come from?” she asked. “I mean, why here? Why don’t I feel this at home?”

  He gestured at the invisible barrier, at the wall of magic that shimmered and fluctuated a few feet away. “This,” he said, crossing to the barrier, “is the edge of the fae veil.”

  She clung to his side.

  He watched her study the magic that divided his realm from hers. She shook still, but she was determined. He admired her courage.

  When she reached up, as if to touch it, he stopped her.

  “It is too dangerous,” he explained. “The fae guard do not take well to unexpected visitors, let alone a human.”

  Her eyes widened, but she lowered her hand.

  Cathair heard the crackle of magic, like static in the air, which traditionally announced a crossover from the other side. He didn’t stop to think, just dove forward, taking Winnie to the ground beneath him. She looked up at him, questioning, but he shook his head. Hoped she understood his plea for silence.

  Hoped she could sense the danger she was in.

  12

  Cathair sensed the two fae guards emerge from the veil. They had probably heard the voices and come to investigate.

  He was not usually this careless. Though Winnie was not in any immediate danger since she was with him—not even the boldest of fae guar
ds would dare defy their prince—he did not want her exposed. The last thing he wanted was some of his darker kin taking an interest in her. Knowing of his interest in her.

  If the missive his mother received was correct, if there truly was a traitor in their ranks, then that made the danger to her even greater. A traitor would not hesitate to turn the knowledge of a seer who dreams over to a rival clan.

  The pair remained there, still and silent against the soft earth, until he heard the guards return to the veil. And for several minutes after that, just to be certain. He didn’t want to take a chance they be perform a second perimeter check.

  When he felt it was clear, he pushed back to his feet and pulled Winnie up with him. Her hand held tightly in his, he turned to walk back through the forest.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Home.”

  “But I thought we—” she said. “This is your home. You said—”

  “We’re going back to your home,” he replied. “I should not have brought your here. It is too dangerous.”

  A raven screeched overhead, and a shiver ran down Cathair’s back. Somewhere to the east a coyote barked into the night. Threat surrounded them. He hoped it was not too late already. He had been so transfixed by her, by her magic, and the impossibility of a future together, that he had not stopped to think.

  He ran, her hand in his. Faster and faster. Winnie struggled to keep up. He made sure she did not fall behind.

  Not until they were miles from the veil, where the forest drew closer to town, did he begin to relax.

  “Cathair,” she said, panting as he finally slowed their pace, “what happened?”

  “It was a mistake,” he said. “You should forget you ever saw that place.”

  She should forget she ever saw him.

  “I don’t understand. Why are you—”

  “If the guards had seen us, they might have killed you.”

  She stared at him, perplexed. “You wouldn’t have let them.”

  “Did you see the raven overhead?” he asked. “And hear the yipping of the coyote?”

  “Yes but—”

  “Unseelie fae are dangerous.”

  She pulled him to a stop. “You aren’t.”

  “My clan is dying, Winnie,” he said. “Our magic is dying. Some will take drastic measures, do whatever it takes—even killing—to save the Moraine. You, your powers, your abilities, are too great a temptation. If any knew of you…”

  He trailed off, unwilling to voice the remainder of the thought.

  This had all been a mistake. The moment she saw him the night before, he should have never visited her again. Not even on la ainmhi. For her own protection he should have stayed as far from her as possible, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stay away. He’d had to be near her once more before the wedding. Because once the wedding took place he would never see her again.

  “I’m not afraid,” she said, reaching to his face.

  She was not lying. Cathair sensed no measure of fear or anger or any negative emotion within her. It awed him while, at the same time, frightened him. Without a healthy fear of his more unscrupulous kin, she was at even greater risk.

  “I am sorry.” He laid his hand over hers. “This is not your fault.”

  No, it was his mother’s fault for agreeing to the alliance. It was Ultan’s fault for securing the betrothal. It was his own fault for suggesting the betrothal in the first place.

  None of that could be changed now. He must do right by his clan. Duty first and foremost.

  “I must marry the Deachair princess,” he said quietly. “For the sake of my people and our future, it is a duty I cannot deny.”

  Without looking, he knew that tears filled her eyes. Felt the sadness, the heartache that filled her mind. No anger, no reproach, no accusation. Just… heartache.

  Which made him respect her even more.

  She whispered, “I understand.”

  “I should not have come to you,” he said, though the words broke his heart. “By my selfish actions I have put you in danger.”

  “You haven’t,” she insisted.

  “If my clan’s enemies knew of my feelings for you,” he forced himself to say, “they would use you to hurt me. I will not allow that to happen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After tonight,” he clenched his jaw, “you will not see me again.”

  She was silent for long, tense moments. Their eyes met, her mossy green ones full of confusion and pain. If she had railed at him, yelled and screamed and called him vile names, he would have understood. He would have preferred that to her silence.

  Finally, she turned from him and resumed walking.

  She had accepted defeat.

  Cathair fell into step beside her, not saying a word until they had reached her home. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. The end of the night. The end of … everything.

  “I feel as if I’ve been waiting half my life for you to show up,” she said, not looking at him. “And now you’re leaving.”

  “I—” He wanted to reassure her, to tell her that this wasn’t what he wanted. That if he had his choice he would tell the kingdom to go to the Everdark, and he would visit her every night and every day.

  But that wasn’t practical. That wasn’t possible.

  He had duties and responsibilities, and one of those was keeping Winnie safe. The only way to do that was to walk way.

  “If there was anything I could do,” he said. “I—”

  Her lips were on his before he could finish. He crushed her to him, cradling her head in his hand and tasting every possible inch of her. Their magics mingled, like lightning flashing between them. He dove deeper, sought more. Wanted everything he was giving up.

  And he was giving up everything. She called to him, elevated him, nourished him. Yet he had to walk away.

  When she pulled away he let her go. Her lips were red, as were her cheeks and her eyes. Without another word, she turned and climbed over the fence around her yard. He watched through a gap in the boards as she ascended the trellis and made it safely into her room.

  Time passed, he knew not how long, and dawn broke. When he finally turned away from the fence the sun streaked high in the morning sky. He leaned his head against the weathered wood. Walking away was the hardest thing he would ever do, but it was also the best.

  He did not sense the wolf’s presence until the animal leaped through the air. The razor-sharp teeth that sank into the flesh of his neck. His last thought was that he hoped Winnie didn’t find his body.

  13

  Winnie sat at her desk, staring blankly at the wall. She should have been exhausted, should have fallen on her bed and drifted right to sleep. Instead, she felt more awake that she ever had.

  And more adrift than she had since her mom died.

  No, that wasn’t fair. Losing her mom was infinitely worse than losing the dark prince she barely knew. But when the fae realm, when her dream world had been a way to escape the pain of grief, losing that was like losing her mom all over again. It made all the old pain raw.

  Her phone started vibrating on her desk. She’d left it on silent so Maureen wouldn’t get suspicious if Mel called and Winnie didn’t answer.

  Mel’s face stared back at her.

  For a moment she considered letting it go to voicemail. Mel would just keep calling.

  “Hey,” Winnie said.

  “Omigod,” Mel cried as soon as Winnie spoke. “That last chapter. So. Good!”

  Winnie closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. The fae stories were the last thing she wanted to talk about right now.

  “If you don’t put this up on Wattpad,” Mel warned, “I will.”

  “No!” Winnie bolted upright. “No, Mel, you can’t.”

  Mel sighed dramatically. “I wouldn’t. But, omigod, you need to. They are so amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Winnie answered automatically.

  “Seriously, I don’t know
how you come up with this stuff.”

  Winnie couldn’t hold back the sob.

  “Whoa, Win, are you okay?” Mel demanded.

  She took a few breaths to settle herself. “Yes,” she said, her voice shaky. “I’m fine. I just…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I don’t think I want to write these stories anymore.”

  “Are you joking?”

  She wished she was. “No, I have some…” She searched for something else to say. “Other ideas. I’m going to start writing those.”

  It was only half lie. She did have other ideas, but she didn’t know if she wanted to start writing them. The very thought of writing—even something she actually made up—left a heavy pit in her stomach.

  “Just promise me there will be another hunky prince,” Mel begged.

  “There will be someone,” Winnie offered.

  And she hoped that would be true in real life too.

  After hanging up with Mel, Winnie changed into her soccer shorts and a t-shirt, then laced up her sneakers and jogged downstairs. She needed to burn off some of her frustrated energy.

  “I’m going for a run,” she shouted to Aunt Maureen, who was frosting yet another set of cupcakes in the kitchen.

  “Be careful,” she called back. “You have your phone?”

  “And my safety whistle.”

  Winnie slammed the front door behind her. This would clear her mind. The run, the exercise, the adrenaline and the endorphins would help her figure things out. She had to accept the fact that if Cathair didn’t want to see her again, there was nothing she could do about it. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

  She took a left turn and headed off down the sidewalk, inserting her bright green earbuds. Couldn’t run without—

  “Cathair!”