Chapter 48

We follow her up a narrow staircase and down a narrow hallway. She walks to the end of the hall and unlocks the last door on the right.
As we step inside, I cover my mouth with my hand because the room looks strangely familiar. A four-poster bed sits pushed against the far wall, looking out of a set of patio doors at the glorious view. White voile hangs gracefully from the bed’s canopy, giving the impression of a bed fit for a princess. A large fireplace piled high with logs sits inside a cream marble surround with flowers engraved throughout. An alcove separates the bedroom from a cozy little living room, which consists of a two-piece gray fabric sofa and an overly large chair, positioned so it looks out of another set of patio doors where the white voile curtains with silvery flowers sway gently in the breeze from the open doors.
"I will leave you two alone to get settled," she says as she backs out of the door. My vision unexpectedly begins to fade, and my legs become unsteady. A faint electric shock runs down both my arms.
"Hope, you can no longer stay here." A younger version of Daisy says her hair a brighter pink and her cheeks flushed.
Hope answers in a soft tone and her head bowed. "I know, and I am truly sorry for the inconvenience I have caused."
"Inconvenience! Six of our people died today. You lied to us about your visit—those people are dead because they were protecting our home. Leave now and take the devil’s spawn with you."
Hope’s head whips up, her blue eyes spark with anger. "Do not ever call my daughter the devil’s spawn," she says as the young child cowers behind her mother.
"Leave now. But be warned, the Fae will come for you someday. Someone must be punished for the loss of our people."
I open my eyes slowly and sit up to find myself on the bed. Chris sits in a wooden chair, looking at me with a strange expression. "What happened?" he asks, his voice sounds strained.
"I don't know," I whisper, trying to make sense of the weird scene I’d just witnessed.
"You were muttering gibberish, and your temperature hit the roof. You are lucky I did not throw you in a bath of ice." With that, he starts pacing the room.
"I think I had another memory,” I whisper, “or perhaps it was a dream? I’m not sure.” I can’t tell what are memories and what are dreams anymore.
With concern, he takes both my hands in his. “What did you see?"
I tell him. Afterward, he looks lost in thought for a while.
"Well,” he says finally, “one thing is certain, we need to find answers."
I fully agree. I need answers.
"Why did you tell them we were married?"
"Ah that, yes, sorry. The Fae are proud people and do not interact much with the other realms apart from Earth. If I told them we were trying to discover what the king’s plans where they would have reacted badly." His words made no sense and left me even more confused. It must have shown on my face.
“Some time ago now, a woman came here seeking shelter and to hide. An army of Dark Ones followed her through and began to attack the…” he trailed off as the realization hit us both.
“My dream,” I whisper, and he nods.
"How do you feel? Would you be up to a little trip into the town?" He changes the subject—we both have a silent agreement not to mention my dream again.
"Yes, I feel fine, just a slight headache. Why do you want us to go there?" I say, jumping off the bed.
He guides towards the door. “The Fae love to gossip and know everything. The town will be the best place to pick up some information."
“Hmm, sounds like my old town. People loved gossip there too.”
We walk down many walkways and past many wooden houses until we come to a big open glass circle the size of a large village green. It is kind of strange to look down and see how high up in the trees I am.
Stalls of assorted sizes fill the space. Fae bustle around chattering in their squeaky tones. The smell of freshly baked goods sends my stomach into growls of hunger. I didn’t eat much while being locked up in the castle, nor did I eat anything at the Michaels, apart from a few spoonsful of soup.
We casually walk around, looking at the various items on offer. I stop at one of the stalls and see a teardrop necklace like the one my grandmother gave me. As I reach out to pick it up, a stocky green haired Fae slaps my hand away.
"Ooch!" I rub at my now red marked hand.
"If you had touched that necklace you would have had a lot worse, my girl," the man chastises in a deathly tone.
Chris, who had been looking at something on a neighboring stall, heard the commotion and came over. His eyes glow with rage. I take his hand, and we look at the fae, waiting for his explanation.
"Please explain why you slapped her?" Chris asks in a tone that nearly has me shaking, never mind the fae.
The man holds his head high. "I was trying to protect her, great one. The necklace shocks and fries anyone who touches it. Ask Pebble. He’s in the infirmary badly fried like an egg." Small giggles escape me on hearing the words ‘great one.’ Chris looks at me and raises his brows, which makes me laugh even more.
The necklace seems to be pulling me towards it. My body can’t deny the pull. I snatch it up off the table. The familiar burning sensation in my palm disappears. The stone lights up a bright blue. Without a doubt, I know this was the necklace the king confiscated on my first day at the castle.
"This is mine. Where did you get it?" I demand rather more sharply than I intended.
The man gulps and steps back, looking terrified. “Willow brought it to me."
"I see. Where can we find this Willow?" Chris asks as I fasten the pendant around my neck.
"At the enchanted items stall," the man answers as he backs away.
"Why did he saythependant fried his friend?" I ask curiously and doubtfully. I can’t see the pendant doing any such a thing.
"The pendant is made for the Grace bloodline. It belonged to the Meredith, and if he tells anyone, we are screwed. If anyone here knows that Hope was a Grace witch that is.”
Should I push him for more information now, or just drop it? He’s been very forthcoming with answers today. This Meredith seems to becoming up a lot lately.
We approach another stall covered with a mix of antique jewelry and old junk.
"What is this please?" I ask the slender young female fae with purple hair tied into pigtails high on her head. She looks like a punk rocker.