Sirensong

Chapter Two

It would have been nice if Dad and I could have slipped away from the dinner party now that Prince Henry had completely ruined it for both of us. Unfortunately, my dad wasn’t going to let a little thing like a summons from the Seelie Queen interfere with his political campaign, and he carried on as if nothing had happened. Me, I just fumed. Making polite conversation with self-important assholes was even harder now, and I didn’t exactly make a whole lot of friends. I kept expecting Dad to give me hell about it, but he seemed to understand.

The worst part was we couldn’t talk about what we were going to do until we were out of the public eye. I was under no illusion that saying no to the Queen’s invitation was going to be easy, and I wouldn’t have been particularly surprised if Prince Henry planned to kidnap me if I didn’t go voluntarily. He wouldn’t be the first who’d tried.

The state dinner itself was torture, as expected. I’m sure the food was fantastic, but I was too anxious to have much of an appetite. And the speeches! Honestly, I don’t know how anyone managed to stay awake.

It was after midnight when we finally got away. Even then, we didn’t talk much. At first, it was because there were too many people around. Avalon didn’t have much of a night life, but some parts of the city were more lively than others, and the Consul’s mansion was in one of the hot spots.

Because I had such powerful enemies, I didn’t live in the city proper with my dad. Instead, I lived in a safe house, hidden deep inside the mountain on which Avalon is built. There’s an extensive tunnel system under the city, some of it populated and some of it not. My safe house was in a very definitely unpopulated section, although my dad had somehow arranged for me to have all the modern conveniences like electricity and water and Internet.

I had a kind of love/hate relationship with that safe house. On the one hand, I did feel pretty safe there, which was nice when people were constantly trying to kill me. On the other hand, I felt horribly isolated and longed for a normal house, one with windows I could look out of, or with a convenient little grocery store right around the corner.

It didn’t matter where in Avalon we were—getting to my safe house was always a hike. Tiresome at the best of times, but much worse when my high heels were killing my feet and my dad was ignoring the conversational elephant in the room.

I waited a while to see if he was going to say anything, but as far as I could tell, he was lost in his own thoughts. When we made our way into the unpopulated section of the tunnel system, and my dad switched on the flashlight he carried, I slipped off my shoes with a sigh of relief. The floor of the tunnel was cold and dusty, but I didn’t care as long as I didn’t have to wear the heels anymore.

“Okay, Dad,” I said, “it’s time you clue me in on what we’re going to do about this invitation.”

Dad shook his head, the corners of his mouth tight with displeasure. “There isn’t much we can do about it. As I’m sure you figured out, it wasn’t so much an invitation as a summons.”

“So? I’m not a member of the Seelie Court.” Despite everyone’s assumption that because my dad was Seelie, I was Seelie. “And you’re a citizen of Avalon,” I reminded him, though I didn’t expect it to do much good. My dad was Seelie to the bone, and no amount of time living in Avalon was going to change that.

“You wouldn’t be in danger,” Dad said, ignoring my argument completely. “If you’re appearing in Court in answer to the Queen’s summons, you’d be protected by the laws of courtesy. It wouldn’t matter if you were her worst enemy—she’d make sure you were safe until you returned to Avalon.”

“Hold on,” I said, stopping in my tracks, because I really didn’t like the sound of that. “You’re not seriously considering going, are you?”

Dad looked at me grimly. “We’re going,” he told me, making no attempt to sugarcoat the truth that I had no say in the matter. “If Titania has chosen to honor you with a presentation at Court, you have to go.”

“But she wants to kill me!” She’d let me know that when she’d sent a couple of her Knights into Avalon to jump me, only it hadn’t been me who ended up getting hurt. To get her message across, the Knights had beaten my bodyguard, Finn, to within an inch of his life, and he hadn’t defended himself because they’d threatened to kill me if he did. They’d then pinned him to the floor by driving a knife through his shoulder and warned that I would be next if I didn’t get out of Avalon and stay out. The knife had had a white rose—the symbol of the Seelie Court—inlaid on its handle.

“I’m no longer so sure about that,” Dad said.

I shook my head. “Those Knights left that dagger behind for a reason,” I argued. “I think the message was loud and clear.”

“Yes, but there’s no guarantee they were sent by Titania. Certainly they meant to imply it, but that doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

None of this was making a whole lot of sense to me. “Let me get this straight: just a few hours ago, you were completely convinced Titania wanted me dead, and now a few words from Prince Henry has you convinced it was all a big misunderstanding?”

“Convinced? No. But I’m willing to entertain the possibility. And even if she was behind it, this summons suggests she’s changed her mind.”

“And you’re willing to risk my life based on what could be wishful thinking.” My dad was so overprotective I lived underground and had a bodyguard. It made no sense that he’d suddenly be okay with the idea of me waltzing into Faerie.

Dad put his hands on my shoulders, focusing his intense blue gaze on me. “I’m afraid you don’t understand, Dana. We don’t have a choice. Henry insinuated that we might have been involved in Grace’s plot and that he has orders to arrest us if we decline the invitation.”

I blinked in surprise. “Where was I when this happened?” I asked, although I’d been at Dad’s side all night.

“‘One would not want to foster the impression that there is bad blood between your family and the Queen after your sister’s unfortunate actions,’” Dad quoted in a fair imitation of Henry’s pompous tone.

I shook my head. “And that meant he was threatening to arrest us?”

“He went out of his way to bring it up, and he made sure to remind us she was a member of our family. It might not have been an overt threat, but he knew I’d understand exactly what he meant.”

Something told me that the Fae had no problem with “cruel and unusual” punishment, and that I didn’t want to find myself a prisoner in Faerie. “But he couldn’t really arrest us, could he? He doesn’t have any authority in Avalon.”

“Authority, no. But he has influence aplenty. If he requested extradition, I doubt the Council would find grounds to deny him.” He smiled gently at me. “It is not only the Fae who feel threatened by you.”

That was a reminder I could have done without.

“You see now why we have to accept,” my dad said. “Our choices are to go as honored guests or reviled prisoners. I prefer the former, don’t you?”

“I still think going is a bad idea,” I said, though with considerably less conviction than before.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” he said, then urged me to start walking again.

I barely slept that night, my mind spinning as I tried to figure out how to convince my dad to see things my way—without having us both dragged off to Faerie in chains. There was a part of me that wanted to go to Faerie, to see the world that no other human being could ever see. That part of me said that maybe my dad was right, and maybe a trip to the heart of the Seelie Court would be perfectly safe and lead to getting my enemies off my back. But living with my mom and her alcoholism had given me a heavy streak of realism—or pessimism, depending on your point of view—and I felt little hope that things would go that well.

I finally fell asleep at some ungodly hour and was awakened the next morning by the ringing of my phone. Barely conscious, I reached for the phone and hit a few buttons until I got the right one.

“Hello?” I said in my lovely, too-early-in-the-morning croak.

“I heard the news!” Kimber said in a voice that was just short of a squeal.

Kimber is my best friend, and really the closest friend I’ve ever had. When I was growing up, my mom kept us constantly moving, because she didn’t want my dad to find us. (Not that Dad could have come into the mortal world, but if he’d known I was out there, I don’t doubt he’d have sent humans to track me down.) Moving so often made it hard enough to make friends, but when you add in my mom’s alcoholism and my desperate need to keep it hidden, you have a dedicated loner on your hands. In a lot of ways, Kimber was the best thing that had happened to me since I’d come to Avalon. Ethan, her older brother and my sort-of boyfriend, might object to me saying that, but my relationship with him was a whole lot more complicated.

“Heard what news?” I yawned and wished I could get a coffee IV. A glance at the clock showed me it wasn’t all that early, but I’d been deeply asleep and my body wanted to get back to it.

“You’re going to be presented at Court!”

The memory woke me up in a hurry. Too bad I couldn’t have at least a few minutes of sleep-addled amnesia before I had to think about going to Faerie. “Why do you sound so excited about it?” I asked. She sounded like she was going to start jumping up and down and clapping with glee at any moment.

Kimber hesitated, like she wasn’t expecting my surly response. “Um, well, it’s a big honor. You get to go to Faerie and meet the Queen and you’ll be a guest in the palace.”

I guess it did sound rather exciting, if you left out the part about potentially getting killed in the process—or the part about being arrested on some trumped-up charge if you didn’t go. I didn’t suppose Kimber knew about that, and I didn’t see any reason to rain on her parade with the grim truth.

“But the best part,” Kimber continued enthusiastically, “is you get to wear a court dress!”

I stifled a groan. Kimber is an incredible girly-girl when it comes to clothes. She loves to dress up, and the fancier and frillier the outfit, the more she likes it. Me, I’m more a jeans-and-hoodie sort of girl.

“I don’t know what a court dress is,” I said, “but if you’re this excited about it, I bet I’m going to hate it.”

She sighed happily. “You’re going to be absolutely stunning! But if you’re leaving in two days, we need to get you in with the dressmaker, like, now.”

“Dressmaker?” That sounded worse than I’d imagined.

“Of course, silly. You don’t wear something off the rack to be presented at Court. As if you could even find a court dress off the rack. Has your dad set up an appointment yet?”

“How should I know? I didn’t even know I was going to need some fancy dress for this thing.” I instantly regretted being so snappish about it. “Sorry. I’m not exactly down with this whole plan, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“It’ll be all right,” Kimber assured me. “No one would dare attack you when you’re a guest of the Queen. They take matters of etiquette very seriously in Faerie. You’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, that’s what my dad said. I just have a bad feeling about the whole thing.”

“You always have a bad feeling about something, so you should be used to it by now.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!”

I snorted. “No, someone hasn’t gotten out of bed at all yet. And some other people should know better than to call at oh-dark-thirty in the morning.”

Kimber laughed. “I don’t think ten o’clock counts as oh-dark-thirty. Besides, you have to get your butt in gear. You’ve got a lot to do before you leave. Now get out of bed and go see if your dad’s set up an appointment for you.”

“Let me guess, you want to come with me.”

“Well, you need someone with at least some fashion sense to help you out.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted,” I said, though her teasing had put a reluctant smile on my face. “I need some coffee in my system first.”

“Call me back when you know the when and where. This is going to be so much fun!”

I suspected that in this instance, Kimber’s idea of fun and mine weren’t going to be quite the same.

It wasn’t until I met Kimber outside the dressmaker’s shop—with Finn trailing in my wake, because I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without a bodyguard hanging over my shoulder—that I realized the potential problem. You see, there was this mark on the back of my shoulder … A stylized blue stag that looked like a tattoo, but wasn’t. It was the Erlking’s mark, and he tricked me into triggering a spell that put it on me. The mark allowed the Erlking to find me wherever I was—kind of like one of those microchips you put in your pet dog.

I hadn’t told anyone—not even Ethan—about the mark, and the last thing I wanted was for Kimber to see the mark while I was trying on clothes. I gnawed my lip with worry as Kimber and I stepped into the shop together with Finn bringing up the rear. There were a lot of things about my encounters with the Erlking that I’d failed to tell Kimber. In fact, I’d out-and-out lied about some of them. I was the worst best friend ever. But guilty as I felt about the deception, I just wasn’t ready to tell her the truth yet.

The dressmaker’s shop was unlike anything I’d ever seen. The front of the shop was a cozy-looking sitting room with overstuffed blue velvet chairs and a side table with cups, an electric kettle, and about twelve million different varieties of tea. There were a handful of magazines on another side table, but otherwise the room was empty and not like a shop at all.

“In the old days,” Kimber told me, “this is where the gentlemen would sit while waiting for their ladies.” She gave Finn a saucy look. “Are you a gentleman?”

Finn is actually a really nice guy, even if he isn’t a big talker. But he’s a completely different person when he’s in bodyguard mode. He wears suits that would look just right on James Bond and wears Men in Black sunglasses even when it’s raining. And he rarely, if ever, cracks a smile.

“I’ll wait here while you girls meet with the dressmaker,” he said, dead serious though he had to know Kimber was teasing him, “but I’m going to check out the back before I let you out of my sight.”

Just then, the dressmaker herself emerged from the curtained doorway at the back of the shop. She was a drop-dead gorgeous Fae woman wearing a powder blue silk suit and killer heels. Both the suit and the shoes screamed haute couture, even to someone like me who generally wouldn’t know haute couture if it bit me on the nose.

“Good afternoon,” she said, in what sounded suspiciously like a fake French accent. “I am Madame Françoise.”

I blinked at her stupidly for a moment. There was no such thing as a French Fae. Not to mention that I could probably do a better fake French accent than “Madame Françoise” was doing.

“Bonjour, Madame,” Kimber answered for me, then rattled off something quick and much more genuinely French-sounding. My foreign language was Spanish, so I had no idea what she was saying.

Madame Françoise laughed lightly and said something in response, her accent still sounding phony as hell.

“Show off,” I muttered to Kimber, who winked at me.

“If you don’t mind,” Finn broke in before we were subjected to any more French, “I need to take a look around back before I allow the young ladies to proceed.”

“Why, of course,” Madame Françoise said cheerfully, holding the curtain open and inviting him back with a sweep of her arm. “I will show you.”

As soon as the curtain closed behind them, I turned to Kimber. “If her name is really Madame Françoise, then my name is Jack the Ripper. What gives?”

“This shop has been here for at least three hundred years. There was a time when high society thought having a French dressmaker was a status symbol. Madame Françoise is hardly the only person to have faked being French to lure in clientele.”

Sometimes, the Fae are just freaking weird. “Yeah, but no one would actually believe she’s French. And hello, it’s the twenty-first century. Who even goes to dressmakers anymore, much less cares if the dressmaker is French?”

Kimber shrugged. “From what I’ve heard, some of the English women who took on French names were just as blatantly fake. And I suppose once she’d been talking like that for a century or so, it became habit.”

Finn and Madame Françoise emerged from the back before I could come up with a witty response. Finn declared the shop safe, and then I was swept into the back with Kimber and Madame, and if it weren’t for Madame’s modern outfit and the electric lights, I might have thought I’d been swept back in time.

It turned out Madame Françoise specialized in making clothes for Avalon Fae who were traveling to Faerie. Apparently, Prince Henry’s ridiculous outfit at the dinner was the height of “modern” fashion in Faerie, and there was nowhere else in the city you could buy appropriate attire.

Madame sat me down at a table with Kimber and plonked a couple of heavy books down in front of us.

“Zeez are pattern books,” Madame said, opening the first one to a line drawing of a woman wearing something that looked vaguely Victorian, with a long train running behind it and a hat that was about half again as tall as she was. Madame turned the page, displaying two more drawings, both of similarly ornate dresses. “Look through. Tell Madame what you like.”

Kimber drew the book to her and began flipping through, not at all fazed at the idea of me wearing one of those ridiculous dresses. Madame smiled approvingly, then moved away, giving us time to look without hovering over our shoulders.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I said, keeping my voice down so Madame wouldn’t hear. “I’m not wearing a freaking bridal gown!”

“I like this one,” Kimber said, pointing at a frilly monstrosity, “and it won’t be white like a bridal gown. One does not wear all white to Court unless one is royalty.”

“I don’t care about the color,” I said through gritted teeth.

Kimber shrugged. “This is what a court dress looks like.” She flipped a couple more pages. “What about this one?” she asked, pointing at a dress that was mercifully free of feathers or ruffles, but just as ornate, with short puffed sleeves, tons of lace, and yet another incredibly long train.

“I’ll look like I’m trying out for a part in The Tudors,” I grumped. “And do not tell me I have to wear a corset, because all those dresses sure look like the kind that have corsets under them.”

Kimber let out a huff of irritation. “You’d never get a part in The Tudors wearing one of these—they’re more Regency and Victorian style. That’s later than the Tudors, in case you don’t know.”

I glared at her. Kimber’s an intellectual prodigy—she’s only seventeen, but she was going to be a sophomore in college in the fall. Her specialty is math and science, but I guess she actually paid attention in history class, too.

“I think this would be perfect for you, as long as we choose the right colors,” she continued, ignoring my death glare.

I looked more closely at the drawing. “It has a freaking bow at the back.” I could see Kimber wearing something like that and being totally stunning. Me, I’d just look silly.

“We can ask Madame to skip the bow,” Kimber said. “And I’m sure she can alter the design enough so it fits without a corset.”

I sighed, knowing I was fighting a losing battle. “What about the train? Can we lose the train?”

Kimber shook her head. “Nope. That’s a requirement.” There was a sudden glint in her eyes. “In fact, you’ll need someone to help you with that train. I’m sure the Queen would be happy to lend you one of her ladies, but maybe you’d be better off bringing your own. Like, say, me.”

There was a suspicious tightening in my chest as I looked at my best friend’s excited face. The idea of having a friend with me for the trip to Faerie made the prospect a lot less daunting. I wanted Kimber to come so badly I could taste it. And yet …

“I don’t care what anybody says,” I said. “I think this trip is going to be dangerous, and I don’t want anyone else to be dragged down with me.” Of course, I knew better than to expect Kimber to give in.

“If it’s going to be dangerous, then all the more reason to have friends at your side. Not that the prince’s entourage isn’t plenty of protection, but their main focus will be on protecting him.” She slung a companionable arm around my shoulders. “You need someone whose main focus is protecting you.”

“My dad’ll be with me,” I reminded her. I hoped I was keeping a good poker face, because Kimber wasn’t exactly bodyguard material. She pretty much sucks at magic, which is usually a Fae’s primary weapon. I’d seen her kill a Spriggan with a knife, so she wasn’t completely incapable of defending herself, but I surely wouldn’t drag her into Faerie as some kind of protection for myself.

Kimber nodded. “Your dad, and probably Finn, too. But having a couple of extras couldn’t hurt.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “A couple of extras?”

“Well, if I go, you know Ethan’s going to want to go, too. And Ethan generally gets what he wants.”

There was a touch of jealousy in Kimber’s voice. She loved her brother, but there was some serious sibling rivalry between them. Ethan is a magical whiz-kid, and magic trumps brains in the Fae hierarchy, so Kimber always felt like second best.

I didn’t know how I felt about Ethan coming with us. Yeah, he was sort of my boyfriend, but our relationship was so complicated … You see, Ethan had been captured by the Wild Hunt, and I’d been determined to save him. I made a devil’s bargain with the Erlking, and now I had to live with it. The Erlking had offered to release Ethan if I promised to give him my virginity.

I’d known from the moment the Erlking made the offer that there was something more to it than just a desire to get me into bed. However, making the promise—enforced by magic—was the only way I could save Ethan, and the Erlking would let me pick the time to fulfill my promise. As a bonus, he would release Connor, my brother, if and when I ever did the deed. Later, I’d found out that the Erlking wanted my virginity because he had the secret ability to steal power from virgins. If I ever slept with him, he’d steal my powers as a Faeriewalker, and ride out into the mortal world on a killing spree. Obviously, I couldn’t let that happen, which meant I couldn’t give him my virginity. But if I slept with anyone else, Ethan would be drawn back into the Wild Hunt.

So I’m doomed to die a virgin, and no matter how much Ethan tells me he doesn’t care that I can never put out, I have trouble believing him. I couldn’t find it in myself to say no when he asked me out, and I wanted to be with him so badly it hurt, but always in the back of my mind, I was searching for signs that he was getting restless. Which doesn’t make for a very comfortable relationship at all.

I frowned as I thought about Ethan and Kimber coming with me to Faerie. “Would you two even be allowed to come with me to the Seelie Court?” Ethan and Kimber were Unseelie, and usually the two didn’t mix well.

“I don’t see why not,” she answered. “Our Courts are not at war. We might not be received with the same enthusiasm you are, but it’s not like we’re not allowed to travel in Seelie territory.”

So much for that objection. “What about your dad? Would he let you put yourself in that kind of danger?”

Kimber put on a wan smile. “For the chance to help you? In a heartbeat.”

I looked away, hating the reminder that both my dad and Kimber and Ethan’s dad, Alistair, considered me a pawn in their political chess game. Alistair would do anything possible to encourage my relationships with his children, and if they could win my gratitude by helping me, that was even better in his book. I guess he hoped that if I was grateful enough to his kids, I’d be willing to support him if he became Consul.

Kimber sighed. “Sorry. That came out wrong. He wouldn’t send us with you if we didn’t want to go. And remember, theoretically at least, there’s no reason you or anyone with you should be in danger during this trip.”

I wished I could believe that. “All right. If you guys can convince my dad and yours to let you come along, you can come.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kimber said with a droll look. “Your enthusiasm’s overwhelming.”

I opened my mouth to protest that it wasn’t lack of enthusiasm, it was fear for their safety, but Kimber didn’t give me a chance.

“Now, let’s show Madame the dress you’ve chosen and we can start picking fabrics.”

I would have argued that I hadn’t actually chosen anything, but Kimber was already waving Madame over.

In the end, we spent almost three hours at the dressmaker’s shop. If I never see a bolt of cloth again it’ll be too soon. Kimber, of course, loved every minute of it. I tried my best to keep the dress as simple as possible, but Kimber would have none of it and Madame always agreed with her. Two against one just wasn’t fair!

The bodice was going to be white silk with gold embroidery, with a red taffeta train about a mile long. The train, too, would be decorated with gold embroidery. I absolutely put my foot down about the big gold bow they wanted to put at the back. The dress was outrageously girly and froufrou enough already. Kimber and Madame finally backed down, but I put the odds at about fifty/fifty that when the dress was ready, there’d be a honkin’ shiny bow on it after all.

There was an uncomfortable moment when Madame wanted me to undress so she could take precise measurements. To keep from having to reveal the Erlking’s mark, I pretended to be painfully modest, stammering and looking pathetic. Madame took pity on me and agreed the fit would be close enough if I kept my clothes on while she measured.

I couldn’t imagine how Madame could create a dress that ornate in time, but she didn’t seem concerned, and I suspected there’d be copious amounts of magic involved. I didn’t even want to think about how much the dress was going to cost. When I’d lived with my mom, we’d always had to pinch pennies, because alcoholics aren’t the best at getting and holding high-paying jobs. But my dad was loaded, and he’d arranged for Madame to put everything on his tab with no spending limit. Too bad the dress wasn’t for Kimber—she’d have appreciated it a lot more than I did.

Kimber wanted to do some more shopping afterward, telling me I needed a fancier wardrobe to travel in Faerie. Only for the presentation at Court—the ceremony during which I would be formally introduced to the Queen—would I need to dress like a native, but Kimber was certain I wanted a whole new wardrobe, just because hey, what girl wouldn’t?

I was saved from the ordeal of being bullied by my personal fashion consultant when my cell phone rang. Unfortunately, an even bigger ordeal was in store for me: my mother had just found out I was going to Faerie.