The Honoured Guest (4 page)

Why had they taken her?

When she tried to question the women, who were leading her carefully into a small clearing, where there was a gorgeous waterfall of crystal clear water surrounded by ferns and flowers of all kinds, they laughed softly and didn’t answer.

“Please remove your garb, Maiden,” one woman requested, while hands plucked at her thin red shirt, and others tugged at her white shorts. They seemed rather bewildered by her skimpy nightwear and Chelsea found herself blushing.

“Off?” she questioned, staring at them and then at the waterfall. Did they seriously want her to take a bath or something? Although the air was warm, and fragrant with flowers and the smell of the trees, she really didn’t want to be naked around complete strangers. “You must cleanse yourself.” another stated briefly.

Chelsea was bewildered and didn’t feel at all in her element. “But why?” she asked, even as she allowed cold hands to tug the top up over her long red hair. Nails caught at her locks, using a little too much vigour, making her wince.
I can undress myself!
She thought rebelliously, but allowed them to continue.

She turned her head and just caught sight of one of the Fae sliding some strands of her fiery hair into a small silken pouch resting against the side of her gown. “What are you doing with my hair?” she demanded in surprise.

The woman froze and then looked up, wide silver eyes meeting her own. “Forgive me, we have no hair of such a colour amongst our kind. I wanted a keepsake.”

Chelsea thought this rather bizarre, but then her gaze went to the silvery locks on the Fae womens’ heads and she slowly nodded.
I guess that makes some sort of sense? But it’s still weird.

“Umm, sure, you can keep it.”

More hands slid her shorts and underwear down, and she huddled there on the cool rocks at the edge of the waterfall, feeling sheepish and rather like an idiot.

These women were so damn beautiful! And she was only fifteen years old, barely surviving puberty. If one would compare her to one of the Fae, she’d be nothing but flawed. Not one of these Fae had a freckle to their face and she had many, to go with her red hair, which her dad had told her was from Irish ancestors.

Whereas, the Fae women were ethereal, with their slightly slanted silver or gold eyes, their gently pointed ears, and hair like spun silk. Chelsea would have killed to have their high cheekbones and sensuous lips, pink and perfect. She couldn't see one freckle on them, as if the very sun had deemed it a crime to defile such gorgeous creatures. They stood tall, with shoulders back, postures that she rarely saw these days, except on models in magazines, pride was evident in every line of the bodies of the Fae women. Their hands were small and delicate, with long slender fingers. She had a feeling that their feet were equally as tiny, but was unable to see under their gowns.

“This is a special night, Maiden,” she was told firmly, as she was pushed towards the water. A small jug was thrust into her hand, as she inched down a smooth rock and tumbled into the water. She gave a small scream as she staggered and fell onto her knees, water splashing up to her waist.

The women laughed and said something in that musical language of theirs that Chelsea really wished she could understand. They watched with intent eyes as she used the unpleasantly cold water and the sweet-smelling liquid in the ornate jug, to wash herself all over. She was told to even wash her hair.

Chelsea stared down at her rippling reflection in the clear water, seeing the moon above haloing her curly red hair, as if she were something unearthly. Her hair looked almost like blood, or fire. She looked at her thin, yet sensual lips, high cheekbones, and pale skin that seemed almost ghostly white. Her long throat led down to smallish breasts that she’d always wished were bigger, then down to her flat stomach and gentle-flared hips.

She sighed and splashed her reflection with her hand till it was unrecognisable.

What am I doing here?

***

Having no other choice, Chelsea did as they wanted, and emerged a while later from the water, dripping wet from head to toe, cautiously taking the slender hands extended down towards her. She was wary after having touched the Fae before and how their very touch hurt her skin, like it was freezing from the pure chill of ice.

She noticed that her foot no longer hurt and quickly looked at it. She was stunned to see that the cut was healed. A quick glance over her body and she found that all of her bruises and scrapes from the run-in with the giant were gone.

One of the Fae women smiled at her when she looked at them in amazement. “The water has healing properties,” she explained.

Cold, chilling hands were lain onto her skin the moment she climbed up over the bigger rocks surrounding the pool and Chelsea was stunned to feel a wave of icy power go through her. She watched with wide stunned green eyes as the water vanished from her skin, and her hair fluffed up and dried in mere seconds, leaving it silky, as if it had just been furiously brushed for an hour or so.

“Whoa!” She breathed out, still staring at the women as their impatient hands snatched some clothing from a creature’s curious hands. Chelsea thought that it might perhaps be a female fawn—the hooved feet and pointed deer ears were a real giveaway. But then again, it could’ve been any sort of creature in these woods.

The women had fun dressing her up then, speaking in their own language and keeping her under their watchful eyes, watching her closely, which was admittedly quite disconcerting. What exactly were they looking for?

A magnificent robe was slid down her young, teenage body as she held her arms high letting the Fae women dressed her. It clung to her like a second skin and felt soft and smooth, like silk. The robe was an unknown shimmering colour, like moonlight and when she moved, the cloth glittered like stars, revealing delicate flowers and other embroidered patterns. As she lowered her arms, Chelsea noted that the top left her shoulders bare, and the bodice accentuated curves she didn't know existed, making her appear more adult and gorgeous than she ever felt before.

She had never seen any material like it before and she couldn’t help but stare at it in a mesmerised fashion.

Soft slippers of matching silver cloth were guided onto her feet. Jewels, flowers, and gold chains were draped about her waist and neck, and even woven into her loose wavy red hair.

“It's beautiful,” she breathed in awe.
This is for me?

She had absolutely no say in what went where, as the Fae women moved their hands about Chelsea’s body skilfully, their eyes focused on the task before them. They had done this many times before, she knew that with a certainty. But to themselves, or others?

Once the Fae women finished, they led her back through the towering trees of the forest. She was pressed into their midst as if they feared she would run away. She asked again what had been preying on her mind. “How many people have you brought here?”

One of the women, who seemed older than the others, although they all appeared rather ageless with their smooth skin, answered her. “Ah, many have been honoured here, little one.”

“Many? How many?”

“We pay no mind to such things,” came the rather uncaring tone. “But our celebrations are held once a year. It has been so for centuries.”

Centuries? So, possibly
hundreds of people
had been brought here just like her? The numbers fairly staggered Chelsea.

“They come here and then…what? Do they stay here?”

For the first time, all the women looked at her coldly. They were silent until one answered. “No, they would be forbidden to remain here in our Realm. They are sent back without their memories once the festivities have been completed.”

She frowned at them. This was all very odd. For what purpose did they take someone and bring them here in the first place? Something didn’t quite add up, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

Maybe she should just enjoy herself and take in this once in a lifetime opportunity? Even if she couldn’t remember a thing come morning, which was a pity. But then again, she couldn’t have kept her mouth shut and not told her friends. The Fae must have had this trouble before.

“Maiden, you look most enchanting.” Lord Nuallán called out from the path ahead of them.

He approached them as they entered the small clearing from where the red-head had woken earlier. He took both her hands, holding them wide as he looked her over with a warm and admiring silver gaze.

Chelsea blushed and averted her eyes; knowing that she did actually look pretty damned good, but the older man’s eyes were disconcerting her. She still had no idea what they wanted from her, or if this was still somehow a very realistic dream. But maybe she could enjoy it for a while?

“Thank you, Nuallán,” she said shyly. His lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed, almost disapprovingly. She blinked at him. “Do you want me to call you, my Lord?” she asked him hesitantly. Had she offended him somehow by saying his name and not his title?

“No, Nuallán is acceptable.” Nuallán finally replied, but there was a faint, arrogant glint in his eyes. “But do not be so bold with others at the feast, especially those of noble or royal blood.” He smiled slowly. “It is not uncommon for those who offend to be put to death.”

Chelsea was gobsmacked and horrified by this information. She eyed him in complete horror and mentally resolved not to call anyone else by their name. The Fae man looked almost pleased by her scared expression and she heard him chuckle under his breath. How mean!

She plucked at her silver skirts, trying to change the subject. “Is this silk, or satin, or something?”

“It is silk made from the tine na gréine cruimh.”

Chelsea repeated the words slowly, but did not understand what they meant. She really wished that she could speak their language. It sounded sort of Irish, but different. It was probably much, much more ancient.

Nuallán smiled at her and tucked her left hand into the crook of his elbow, his hand resting on top of hers. “Roughly translated, it means something like: fire of the sun worm. It is a creature that is quite rare now and only Fae nobility and royalty are permitted to wear the silk made from it. Come, the others await.”

“Others?” What others? How many were there? Oh god, she was having the worst case of stage fright in her entire life! But the dress she was wearing gave her confidence and it felt amazing against her skin.

Even if she hadn’t even been allowed to put her underwear back on!

Chelsea heard the sound of many wings, like flocks of birds, and looked up quickly to see a group of small creatures flying their way. Their eyes gleamed yellow and at first, she mistook them for fireflies, till their bodies became illuminated by the moon and torchlight.

Nuallán’s fingers tightened about hers and he scowled, his expression darkened as he watched them.

“Maiden! Maiden!” They cried out, arms outstretched towards her own. “Come with us!” They were about the size of her palm and grey-skinned, with leathery black wings extending from their backs, their tiny hands topped with cruel claws, fangs gleaming white in the torchlight.

Chelsea scrambled back from the flying creatures, a look of horror in her green eyes.
What do they want with me?
She thought in shock, as they repeatedly attempted to fly at her, but were deflected by the Fae lord’s arms. He waved them off, and they dodged, staying just out of reach.

“Sluagh,” he growled under his breath. As one flew closer, his hand shot out and he grabbed the little grey creature roughly by about the waist harshly, ignoring the painful, high-pitched squeal as he squeezed it tightly.

“Nuallán, you’re hurting it.” Chelsea gasped in shock as the tiny creature kept whining like a wounded dog and struggling in his grasp. It was ugly, but looked defenceless in Nuallán’s clutch. She didn’t know what they intended to do if they got their little clawed hands on her, but they didn’t deserve to be crushed!

He’s being so cruel!

She tried to rescue it from him, but he brushed her hand aside with a hard, ruthless expression on his face.

“Do you know what these little creatures are?” When she shook her head, expression anxious, he smiled almost unpleasantly and shook the little thing as if it were a ragdoll. “They are called Sluagh Sidhe. They take the souls of the dead. If they cannot find someone dead, then they will kill the living in order to possess their soul.” Nuallán explained silkily, cold eyes gleaming down into her own.

The other Sluagh fluttered around their captured brethren and pried at the man’s hand to try and free it. Claws bit into the Fae lord’s hand, but it appeared as if he could not even feel them.

When she heard what the little creatures were, Chelsea paled and backed off behind the tall Fae for protection. They took souls? Killed people? Why did they want
her
?

Nuallán opened his hand and set the winged creature free. It dropped to the ground like a stone and laid still, its bat-like wings beating weakly. The dozens of others in its flock flew down and grasped its limbs and flew away with it, making angry chittering sounds.

“Be wary of this forest, little one,” she was calmly warned, as her hand was taken again and pulled back over his arm. “Many here are not what they seem.”