Her mother didn’t answer but rummaged in her purse and pulled out a vial and a pack of Handi Wipes. “He hit the priest, didn’t he?”
“Yeah, but… What? Holy blood is dangerous?” She hated the scorn coming out of her, but the anger was easier to manage than fear.
“Perhaps. Wipe the blood off his hand.” Mom ripped the Handi Wipes pack open and handed it to Kim. “We don’t fully understand the way Catholic magic and Faerie magic interact. I don’t know what spells their priests are under, but I do know this is the sort of protective spell one would lay.” She lifted Dad’s head and held the vial to his lips.
Kim stared, fascinated, as Mom tried to get some of the amber liquid past his swollen lips.
Her mother said, “Kim, I asked you to do something for me and I need you to do it.”
“Sorry.” When she touched her dad’s hand, Kim flinched. The flesh was turgid with pressure but gave slightly under her hands, like a rotting pumpkin.
“How come this didn’t happen to me? I mean, I cast a spell and, you know, desecrated an altar.” She couldn’t tell if the blood was the priest’s or Dad’s from where the skin had broken on his knuckles. “Oh, and stole.”
“You didn’t steal. Fae don’t steal things. The Key belongs to us.”
“Still.” Kim passed the Handi Wipe between her father’s fingers. “Why Dad and not me?”
Mom capped the bottle of whatever and tucked it into her purse. “We had you baptized.”
“What?”
“Think of it as an inoculation against allergies.” Mom slid out of the car. “Ride up front with me.”
“What about Dad?”
Mom stood by the side of the car, her skirt flaring every time a car passed them. She bent down so Kim could see her face. “If we get the gate open fast enough, the Faerie Queen will heal him. He doesn’t have much time. I need you to start thinking.”
Kim swallowed. “Yes, ma’am.” She got out on the passenger side and closed the door as gently as possible to keep from jarring Dad.
Sitting in the front seat, as her mother drove, Kim replayed the events in St. Andrew’s. It wasn’t her fault touching the altar set off an alarm. And Dad should have known better than to hit that priest. Right?
She prodded her scraped knee. He shouldn’t have tried to protect her. And now he might die. The pain did nothing to distract her. Dad had to get better. Kim dug her nails into the raw flesh. The Faerie Queen had to fix him.
On a bluff overlooking the Columbia Gorge, the monument loomed out of the dark, silhouetted by moonlight. The water below caught the moon and tossed its silver light like a ball on the surface of the river. This replica of Stonehenge had been built as a World War I memorial by a railroad industrialist. He’d built it out of “modern” materials, concrete and rebar, but made it look like Stonehenge had when new. The monoliths ringed the center, none fallen on their sides. Even so, it had an air of being decrepit beyond its years. The concrete had its share of graffiti and had crumbled in places.
They’d left Kim’s father in the car because Kim’s mother was worried the spell would think he was an offering in addition to the Key.
Kim huddled against the side of a monolith and tried to stay out of the wind. She ran her fingers across the sculpted surface of the reliquary as if she could read its history in braille. The heavy cross embossed on its surface bumped under her fingers in a constant reminder of what Kim had to undo.
In the middle of the monument, her mother did something on the flat altar. Kim wanted to yell at Mom to hurry and, at the same time, tell her to slow down. As soon as Mom finished prepping the altar, it would be Kim’s turn. What if she didn’t get it right? Dad could die. She clutched the reliquary.
Mom gestured frantically. “Kim, quickly now.”
She joined her mother at the altar stone and put the reliquary in the middle of it. How many times had she pretended to do this while playing in her backyard? She felt split into two halves, the one which knew exactly what to do and the one which was sure she’d screw up. Inhaling to steady herself, Kim pressed her thumb against the catch holding the reliquary shut and let it prick her finger. She bit the inside of her lower lip as the blood welled up on her thumb.
This had been Bloody Mary’s genius; the reliquary would only open to one of pure Faerie blood, but it was made of iron and would burn all Fae who touched it. She had collaborated with the Unseelie Court to close the gate in order to prevent the Faerie Queen from aiding her enemies during the Wyatt Uprising. The Unseelie stooped to her aid, ironically, to keep mortals and their taint out of Faerie. The reliquary was a perfect blend of Catholic and Faerie magics.
Carefully, Kim slid the catch aside, exhaling in a rush of relief as the lock opened. Her thumb stung where the iron had cut her, but no more than with a sunburn. Kim could feel her mother, more than see her, shifting with impatience at her side.
Digging her fingernails into the crack between the covers, Kim pried the reliquary open.
She had expected a flash of magic like in the Lord of the Rings movies, but nothing even glowed. Inside the reliquary lay a mat of dried leaves. Kim held her breath for fear of disturbing the thing lying on them.
Curled in a fetal ball lay the tiniest skeleton Kim had ever seen. All her life she had heard of the other breeds of Fae but had never seen anyone besides her parents. With birdlike bones, this skeleton could only belong to a pixie, the most delicate of the Fae.
Kim slid her hand under the leaves and they disintegrated. Shaking, she picked up the pixie’s skull. Dried to almost nothing, it felt like papier-mâché and was no bigger than her thumb. She set the skeleton on the altar piece by careful piece. Most of the bones were still attached with mummified tendons and leathery skin. She did not like to think about how hard it would have been if she’d had to piece the hands together.
“Don’t miss a single bone.” Mom leaned forward, as if she could stick her own hand in the reliquary and fish around.
“I know.” Kim scowled. They’d spent enough time telling her bedtime tales about little changelings who didn’t follow the rules. Kim sifted the ashy remains of the leaves until she was confident she had all the bones.
Bowing her head over the remains, Kim held her hands over them in benediction and said the words she had been taught.
“Child of Faerie, blessed are ye in your innocence. Return ye to the state from which our ancestors preserved us, free from the knowledge of the tree of good and evil. I release ye from your bonds to the mortal world. Go in peace.”
Light, golden as sunset, bloomed out of the arch behind and cast her shadow across the altar. Now this was more like it. This was magic.
Her mother hissed, “Bow. The Faerie Queen is coming.”
Kim’s mother lowered herself into a deep curtsy. Kim tried to follow suit, but her legs gave way and dropped her on the ground. Her scraped knee sent a bright flash of pain up into her forebrain and snapped her attention to the fact that this was happening. She was about to meet the freakin’ Faerie Queen.
For the first time in five hundred years, faeries set foot on mortal soil without needing to take a human in exchange. A retinue of faerie men and women stepped through the gate. Kim’s heart sank as she looked from beautiful Fae to Fae. This was worse than high school; the disdain was apparent even on their inhumanly beautiful faces. Every one of them was beautiful and she… She looked like ass.
Her mother even looked panicky at the sight of these beautiful Fae.
The light frothed over, spreading to all the arches of the monument. The interior lit up like Kim was standing center stage in the auditorium at school. Trumpets sounded. If silver were a sound, then it bugled out of the arch. The light boiled within the confines of the stone.