The Solstice Cup Page 4

  Mackenzie tried to fix the route they took in her mind, but after the sixth or seventh turn she knew she was lost. In the flickering light, every passage looked the same. Nuala stopped several times to speak with other faeries along the way, conversing in the strange language of hisses and clicks that Maigret had used when she’d first told them her name. Mackenzie could feel the faeries’ eyes on her as she turned her own gaze to the floor.

  The passages got narrower as they continued on, deeper and deeper underground. Mackenzie started having trouble breathing at the thought of so much earth above her. Nuala finally stopped in front of an open doorway and motioned Mackenzie to enter.

  “Go on—it’s a guest chamber, not a dungeon,” the faery said when Mackenzie hesitated. “No need to look so petrified.”

  Mackenzie’s breath came more easily once she was through the door. Aside from the absence of windows, there was nothing cave-like or subterranean about the room. It was spacious and brighter than the passage outside, thanks to two large candle chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Floral tapestries covered the walls. Brightly colored rugs hid most of the polished stone floor. There was a canopy bed in one corner of the room, and a large tub just visible behind a screen in the other corner.

  “See?” said Nuala, turning in the center of the room. “Isn’t it nice? Once you’ve had a bath and changed into something pretty, I’m sure you’ll feel more relaxed.”

  As if on cue, two silent girls appeared in the doorway, their faces half hidden under the gray hoods of their robes. One of them motioned for Mackenzie to remove her tunic so she could bathe in the tub peeking out from behind the screen. Mackenzie moved behind the screen before disrobing, taking care to keep the bundle of food she’d brought from Maigret’s shack hidden from view. The tub was already full of warm scented water, as if Mackenzie’s arrival had been anticipated. When her bath was finished, one of the girls produced a white gown of gauzy fabric that seemed to float just above Mackenzie’s skin when she slipped it on. As a finishing touch, the second girl wove tiny white flowers into her hair.

  Mackenzie stood in the center of the room and waited while Nuala appraised her attendants’ work. “Very good,” the faery said. She made a clicking noise with her tongue and waved her hand, and the girls curtsied and backed out of the room. “You look very pretty now that you’ve been cleaned up,” Nuala said when they were gone. She sounded pleased. “You may even be the prettiest guest at our banquet tonight.”

  “Is there a chance my sister will be there?” Mackenzie asked hesitantly.

  “Of course,” said the faery. “We always bring our guests to the solstice feasts. Our celebrations wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  Mackenzie held her breath as the faery moved closer. She tried not to flinch when Nuala raised a hand to touch one of the flowers in her hair. “You have beautiful skin,” Nuala said. “It’s almost as pale as mine. Promise you’ll stay close to me tonight. We wouldn’t want anyone else to steal you away, now would we?”

  The faery laughed at the color rising in Mackenzie’s cheeks. “You’re so young—I am going to have fun with you. But I need to leave you alone for a while,” she said, letting her hand fall again. “I have to get ready myself. I’ll have some food sent in while I’m gone.”

  “I-I’m not hungry,” Mackenzie lied, praying that her stomach would remain silent.

  “Really?” The faery tilted her head. “I’m always hungry. But suit yourself. Just as long as you have an appetite tonight.”

  Mackenzie listened as the bells on Nuala’s slippers got fainter and finally faded away altogether. When she was sure it was safe, she retrieved the bundle of food she’d hidden behind the screen. She took a few sips from the water jug and crammed a handful of dried fish and bread into her mouth.

  “I can’t believe you’re still eating that stuff.”

  Mackenzie almost choked as she spun toward the doorway. “Breanne! Where have you been?” she demanded when she could speak again. “How could you just take off on me like that?”

  Breanne undid the clasp of an iridescent cloak like the one Nuala had worn in the street, removing it from her shoulders as she entered the room. “Seriously— they must have better food on this side of the water. Why are you eating moldy fish?”

  “Don’t you remember the stories Mom used to read to us when we were little?” said Mackenzie. “It’s dangerous to eat faery food. Besides, the fish isn’t moldy.”

  “Whatever,” Breanne said as she collapsed across the canopied bed.

  “Where did you get that cape?” Mackenzie asked suspiciously.

  “I found it,” said her sister.

  “You found it? What, was it just lying in the street?”

  “Don’t get hysterical,” said Breanne. “Some faery chick was spinning it above her head, and when she let go, I caught it.”

  “You caught it? You mean you stole it!”

  “C’mon, I needed something to wear over this ugly potato sack. Besides, it’s the perfect disguise. With the hood up, I can go anywhere. Which is how I was able to trail you without being noticed.”

  Mackenzie took a deep breath to calm herself. “All right. You followed me, and you’re here now—so I’ll forgive you for taking off in the first place. Now let’s get out of here!”

  Breanne made herself more comfortable on the bed. “Why? You’ve got a good thing going here. A nice room, clean clothes, and didn’t I hear something about a banquet tonight? Let’s make this our base until the ‘ways open’ or whatever’s supposed to happen in a week. It sure beats that old woman’s smelly shack.”

  Mackenzie stared at her sister in disbelief. “We can’t stay here—that’s insane! It’s way too dangerous!”

  Breanne shrugged. “How dangerous can it be? It’s not like you’re locked up in here. You’re a guest—free to come and go.”

  “Oh, I’m a guest, am I?” Mackenzie rubbed her arm where Nuala had gripped her. “That faery stung me when I wanted to stay back and look for you! And then she said I’d better stick close to her at this banquet tonight so nobody tries to steal me away!”

  “Whatever,” Breanne said. “If this really is Faeryland, all we have to do to stay out of trouble is be polite. As long we say please and thank you, we’ll be fine. That’s what all the old faery stories say.”

  “Be polite?” said Mackenzie. “Be polite? You just stole a cloak from them! Who knows what they’ll do to us when they find out!”

  Breanne took the cloak and stuffed it under the nearest pillow. “There, no one will ever know. Now chill, before you hyperventilate.”

  The sound of a collision just outside the room prevented Mackenzie from responding.

  “Clumsy slattern!” a man cursed as Mackenzie peered anxiously around the open doorway. “Big-footed wench!”

  A redheaded girl, dressed in gray like the girls who had attended Mackenzie, was crouched on the ground beside a young bearded man in a velvet cape. The caped man was kneeling over a set of primitive-looking bagpipes.

  “You’ve broken the chanter,” he said angrily. “What do you say to that?”

  The trembling girl said nothing.

  “Damn it—a piece is missing. I’ll tell you what,” the man said. “If I can’t play tonight, it will be you that answers for it! Now where is that blessed thing?”

  Mackenzie teetered off balance as her sister pushed past. Breanne scanned the scene quickly and then bent down over a shallow crevice in the floor. When she stood up again, she was holding a hollow piece of wood in her fingers. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

  The young man’s head swiveled in Breanne’s direction. “That’s it,” he said curtly, reaching up for the piece of wood.

  Breanne pulled her hand away. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners? You owe her an apology.”

  The caped man looked as startled by Breanne’s words as Mackenzie felt. “What?”

  “You were a jerk to her,” said Breanne, nodding to the g
irl still crouched on the floor. “If you want this back, tell her you’re sorry.”

  The man shook his head. The surprise on his face melted into sour amusement. “If that’s the price to make my pipes whole again, I suppose I have no choice.”

  He rose to his feet. When he was standing, Mackenzie saw that one of the man’s shoulders was significantly higher than the other, and there was a small hump on his back that had been obscured by the folds of his cloak. He didn’t look the least bit repentant, but he made an elaborate flourish with his free arm and bowed toward the cowering servant. “If my temper has given any offense, I do hereby apologize. Is that satisfactory?” he asked, turning back to Breanne.

  “It’ll do,” said Breanne. She seemed less confident now that she’d noticed the man’s deformity. She handed him the piece of wood without meeting his eyes.

  “Thank you,” the caped man said with another bow.

  Mackenzie waited until the man’s attention was back on his damaged instrument before grabbing her sister by the arm. “I can’t believe you just did that!” she hissed as she tried to haul Breanne back through the doorway. “‘Be polite,’ you said. You can’t talk to people like that here!”

  “At least one of you has some sense,” the man muttered as he continued to inspect his pipes. “She’d be one unhappy lassie now if I’d been one of the fair folk.”

  “I knew he wasn’t a faery,” Breanne said to Mackenzie, her cockiness returning. She threw off her sister’s hand. “He doesn’t have weird eyes or see-through skin like the rest of them. He’s human, like us.”

  “That I am,” said the man. He pointed his chin at the retreating back of the hooded serving girl. “So is she, for that matter. You want to take care that you don’t end up like her.”

  “What do you mean?” Mackenzie asked anxiously.

  The bearded man tucked his pipes under his arm and surveyed the sisters. “I suppose the end of my chanter is worth a bit of counsel. Fine. Here it is: Beware the solstice cup.”

  “The ‘solstice cup’?” said Breanne. “What’s that?”

  But the piper had already turned his back on them. He moved away in the direction the servant had taken and didn’t turn when Breanne called after him.

  “Shh,” said Mackenzie. “Listen—I hear bells. Nuala must be coming back.”

  “All right, already,” Breanne said angrily as Mackenzie tugged her out of the corridor. “You don’t have to pull my arm off.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The silver-eyed faery entered the room with two attendants behind her. Her shimmering cloak was gone. In its place she wore a long dress that seemed to consist entirely of white rose petals. Tiny glowing stones dangled from the brown curls piled up on her head. She halted at the sight of Breanne lounging at the end of the canopied bed beside Mackenzie.

  “My sister, Breanne,” Mackenzie said nervously, nudging Breanne to stand up.

  “Your sister!” the faery repeated, bringing her hands together in satisfaction. “Hasn’t anyone else claimed you yet? Then tell me your full name and I’ll be your protector,” she said when Breanne shook her head.

  Breanne surprised Mackenzie by making a small curtsy. “Breanne Caitlin Howell.”

  Nuala’s eyes shone as they went back and forth between the two girls. “You’re not just sisters, you’re twins! Come closer.” She beckoned to Breanne. “Let me see you in the light.”

  “Is there something wrong with your leg?” the faery asked as Breanne stepped under the nearest candle chandelier.

  Breanne’s cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s nothing. I twisted my ankle, and it hasn’t healed yet.”

  “Hmm. A pity.” Nuala looked Breanne up and down and then beckoned to her attendants. “Twins— it’s almost too good to be true. I definitely want them to match for the banquet tonight. You’ll have to work quickly to get this one ready in time.”

  Mackenzie expected her sister to protest as the nearest hooded girl approached to help her remove her coarse tunic. But for once, Breanne was as meek as a lamb.

  Mackenzie and Breanne had to hurry to keep up with Nuala as she led them away from their chamber a short while later. The two hooded attendants followed behind the sisters.

  Breanne ran her hands over her dress and shook her head. “This is a ridiculous outfit,” she mouthed behind the faery’s back. “They have no fashion sense.”

  Nuala turned a corner ahead of them while Mackenzie was frowning and holding her finger to her lips. Two turns later, they were in a wide hallway crowded with elaborately dressed faeries, all traveling in the same direction.

  “They sound like a bunch of crickets,” Breanne muttered to Mackenzie under cover of the din.

  “Honestly, Breanne!” Mackenzie hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re going to get us in trouble!”

  Nuala slowed to let the sisters catch up. “Stay close,” she told them. “I don’t want you to get swept away.”

  It was hard to be sure with so many bodies pressing in around them, but it seemed to Mackenzie that they had started to climb toward the surface. Her guess was confirmed when they passed through an ornately carved doorway the height of a two-story house and found themselves in a courtyard above ground. Tiny orbs of light floated above their heads. Beneath the lights, the banquet guests were taking their places at long tables set with jeweled cups and crystal dishes. Servants in gray hoods scurried between the tables, carrying large pitchers and platters of food.

  “Quickly,” Nuala said, taking Mackenzie and Breanne by the sleeves. “Our seats are waiting. I don’t want to miss the first course.”

  Nuala led the sisters to a table across the courtyard. Most of the seats were already occupied. Mackenzie couldn’t help staring at a faery wearing a small birdcage on a chain around her neck, with a tiny live bird inside. The faery sitting beside her had fluttering butterflies all over her hair, while one of the male faeries had a subdued fox reclining over his shoulder.

  A servant waiting on the other side of the table curtsied and pulled out a throne-like chair for Nuala. She pulled out two slightly simpler ones near the end of the table for Mackenzie and Breanne.

  “Aren’t my guests beautiful,” Nuala said proudly to the others at the table before taking her seat. She had the sisters each turn around so they could be admired.

  “I’m having trouble breathing,” Mackenzie whispered after Nuala had abandoned them to have a conversation in her own language. “They’re still staring at us. It’s creepy!”

  “Relax,” said Breanne. “I’m sure they’ll lose interest in us once the food comes. Hey, look—another girl dressed like an underage bride.”

  Four tables away, there was a girl dressed in the same type of gauzy white gown that Mackenzie and Breanne were wearing.

  “She looks human,” said Breanne. “And there’s another one. And a guy in a white tunic over there.”

  “Nuala said there would be other guests like us,” said Mackenzie. “I wonder if they got here the same way we did.”

  “Let’s go ask,” Breanne said, pushing her chair out.

  Mackenzie grabbed her sister’s arm. “Breanne—you can’t just take off. Nuala specifically told us to stay with her!” She glanced anxiously at the silver-eyed faery, who was still turned away from them, engaged in conversation with a creature who had curled ram’s horns growing out of his temples.

  “You’re such a baby.” Breanne shrugged her arm free. “All right, I’ll wait. The food’s here anyway.”

  Mackenzie clenched her hands in her lap and tried not to look at the puddings, jellies and tiny pastries that were being set down on the table.

  “This is going to be good.” Breanne picked up a serving spoon and began filling her plate with food.

  “You’re not going to eat that, are you?” Mackenzie whispered in dismay.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you can’t eat faery food! Weren’t you paying any attention? Just wait, and you can have some of the stuff I brought fro
m Maigret’s shack.”

  Breanne rolled her eyes. “I’m not eating any of that crap.” She raised a spoonful of soup to her mouth and swallowed. “Mmm, delicious. And oh, look! I’m still breathing.”

  Mackenzie stared straight in front of her, too frustrated to speak.

  “I don’t know what your problem is,” Breanne said.

  “Look, all the other human guests are eating too. No one’s keeled over yet.”

  “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” said Mackenzie. “Why do you always have to ignore everything I say?”

  “Because you’re a paranoid Goody Two-shoes.”

  Mackenzie dug her nails into her palms. “Fine. Just wait until you wake up tomorrow and you’re paralyzed—or a lizard or something.”

  Mackenzie still hadn’t tasted any of the faery food by the time dessert was brought out.

  “You have no idea what you’re missing,” Breanne said, her mouth full of pastry. “This is so good. Come on, try a bite.” She lifted her fork toward Mackenzie’s mouth. “You know you want to.”

  Mackenzie turned her head away quickly. “Stop it!”

  Breanne giggled as the piece of pastry fell into Mackenzie’s lap. She reloaded her fork and tried again. “C’mon, just a little nibble, a teeny-weeny nibbly.”

  “You’re acting like you’re drunk!” Mackenzie hissed.

  “I’m not drunk,” Breanne said indignantly. “I’m just having a good time. You should try it. Hey, look. There’s that hunchbacked piper guy.”

  The bearded man they’d met outside their chamber had just appeared in the center of the courtyard with his pipes nestled under one arm. “Oh goody—he’s going to play for us,” Breanne said. “Guess his chanter-thingy is fixed.”

  Mackenzie tried to tune her sister out as she focused on the piper. He settled himself on a stool and brought the chanter to his mouth. At the sound of the first notes, the noise level around the courtyard dropped dramatically. A few servants moved between the tables, removing dishes and refilling cups, while the piper adjusted the instrument under his arm. They slipped away as soon as he was ready to play, and the hall fell completely silent.