The Treachery of Beautiful Things (28 page)

“Jack!” she screamed, struggling against the tree even though she knew there was no escape, not since he had put her there. Her certainty wavered, unsteady as the twisting ground beneath her. Jack had betrayed her after all. Puck had been right and so had Tom.

“There now,”
came a voice, slightly rattled but trying to hide it.
“She’s deep inside now. Just another drone. Someone take her to the kitchen and put her to work.”

The queen’s voice, echoed through the hall, or maybe it was through Jenny’s head. No one else reacted to her, or the words she said.

“Majesty, please…”
Tom spoke now, his voice smoother than Jenny ever remembered, almost seductive when he tried to get his way with Titania.
“She’s a danger to you. Send her
away. It’s safer that way. Get rid of her.”

Laughter echoed around the hall, bouncing off the ceiling, but the dancers carried on as if it were just another part of the music. The dark figure of the king watched her, and Jack still knelt on the ground like nothing more than a lump of wood.

“Jack!” she called. “Jack, please.”

Somewhere, she knew, she was being led away, though Tom still argued.

“She’s the May Queen. We all heard it. And Oberon will know
as well, since the Jack was with her. Majesty, please, just send her away or send her home. Let her go.”

“You don’t understand, Tom. If she’s the May Queen, then I need her. As much as Oberon does. Perhaps more. She came here willingly, so here she stays. Don’t try my patience, piper, or it will go the worse for you.”

“And how can it go worse?”
he snarled, but Titania didn’t reply. Their voices faded away and the world of the ball reasserted itself around her, swirling skirts, spiraling music, laughter and voices raised in delight.

Then she noticed it. Starting with her hands, her fingernails. They grew as she watched, oval and perfect as pearls. Her fingers too—they lengthened, changing to more elegant versions of her younger hands, a woman’s hands, pampered by creams and oils. The cuts and scratches healed themselves and vanished.

“What…what’s happening?” she whispered. Her body itched all over, as if her skin were shifting over the surface, and she thought of the Redcaps from long ago…

“You’re becoming what you were born to be,” said Oberon. He clicked his fingers in a single sharp gesture, and a mirror was brought forth. Old and marked, black flecks marring the surface, and yet she could see herself as clear as day. “It’s part of the magic, you see? The transformation. You’re the Wren now, but soon…soon you’ll be the queen.”

Jenny leaned forward, her eyes widening as she saw her
face transform, re-form. Her skin grew paler, freckles fading, and her cheekbones lifted higher, sharpening. Her face took on an alien cast, her eyes elongating even as she looked, and her hair staining with gold until…until…

“No,” Jenny whispered. And she heard Titania’s voice.

No, she realized with dawning horror. Not Titania’s. It was older than that, more powerful, more dangerous. This was the reason the queen wanted to keep her. It wasn’t Titania’s voice at all.

It was Mab’s.

Jenny closed her hand on the arm of the throne, digging those sharp nails into the wood, and the wood fought back. A thorn dug into her skin, hard and unyielding, a sharp pain, deeper and harder than anything else. It dug into her palm and with a burst of light, she was herself again.

Barely. Her stomach twisted and she tried to rise. The dancers protested, but she tore the hawthorn away from her, breaking free of the throne. The king snarled, but he didn’t move to intercept her. Blood dripped from her palm, where a black thorn still jutted from her skin.

Jack looked up as she approached him, his eyes begging forgiveness, emptying with heartbreak as she came closer. Lost. What had he promised as his price to save her from the Nix? This? Had he renounced her for Oberon? Wouldn’t he even fight for her?

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but only dirt fell out.

He extended a hand, a shaking hand. His limbs creaked and she watched in horror as his skin hardened, transforming to moss-covered bark. He lifted his other hand to the glinting touch of gold around his neck, closing wooden fingers over the heart she had given him. Sap leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Stronger than you know
.

He tried to smile. Like he knew she’d understand somehow. Like he’d do anything for her if only he could. Like he trusted her with all his heart. She reached for him, to help him, to save him, to tell him—

The pain in her hand sharpened, changing from a thorn to a spike, something cold like ice. The fairy-tale world in which she was lost shifted and then melted away, like rain on a windshield.

She pulled her hand out of the pocket of the apron. The iron jack dug into the torn flesh of her palm.

Jack…

Delicate hands caught her shoulders, shaking her awake. Not Jack. Jack’s grip was firm and strong. Jack had never been so rough with her. Besides, Jack was lost.

And then in her dream—was it only a dream? He had turned her over to the king. He’d just knelt there, looking at her, holding the golden heart like it was the most precious thing in the world as he turned to—

It was just a dream. But visions had a way of making
themselves come true, didn’t they? She gasped out a sigh, broken by a sob and her eyes snapped open. Pain stabbed at her head, the pain of a migraine, and deep into her hand with the iron of the jack. Someone dropped her, releasing her so abruptly that she fell to the ground. She landed facedown on cold, hard stone.

“Snap out of it,” a distant voice said. “You have to get out of here.”

J
enny blinked around and saw what must be the palace kitchens. The place reeked of stale grease and rotting food. She was on her knees, a scouring brush in hand. Large slabs of stone spread out like a chessboard before her, and in the cracks between, foaming soap lifted out scraps and crumbs. She looked up to the enormous range dominating the wall before her, the tiny barred window high overhead, the grime smearing the walls. Finally her eyes found her brother’s face.

“Snap out of it,” Tom said again, shaking her. “You have to get out of here.”

“No. I came…” Her throat was too dry and her voice grated. She tried again. “I came to get you.”

“You’re a fool. No one leaves the service of the queen. No one would want to.” But he no longer looked convinced. How long had it been? There was no light here, so she didn’t know if it was morning or night. But her hands were raw from scrubbing the filthy floor. Except where her palm bled.
She tore a strip off the apron and wrapped it tightly around the wound.

Can you get tetanus in fairyland?
she wondered idly.
Or something worse?

“It wasn’t meant to be you,” he blurted out. Jenny looked up at him sharply. His eyes glistened like broken glass. “I thought…I thought I’d find someone to take my place. But I never meant for it to be you.”

And that was supposed to make it better?
She paused for only a moment. “Well, it was. And I came.”

“Why?”

“For you. To come home. Come home, Tom. Please.”

“Home?” He faltered, his eyes flickering away from hers. The Lethe water must be wearing off, Jenny realized. Otherwise, why was he even here? Please, she prayed, please, let me get through to him. But he shook his head. “This is my home.”

“This is an illusion.”

He laughed and Jenny realized what she must sound like, kneeling in a filthy hearth in a kitchen with no escape. If this was an illusion designed to snare her, the queen had a lot to learn. Somehow, she doubted that. No, the ball had been an illusion. The awful embrace of the throne, the king’s touch, and Jack…All illusions.

But it didn’t matter now what they said, or what she feared. Her heart knew the truth. Jack hadn’t betrayed her,
not willingly, not in truth. Jack—or the memory of him—had given her the strength to break free, Jack and the little iron jack, which he had given her despite its danger to him. Tears stung her eyes. She was so tired of this. She forced them back, focusing instead on Tom, on the reason she was here.

He blinked and for a moment she saw her brother in his eyes. “I can get you out of here, Jenny, out of the Realm, or at least as far as the Edge. You have to leave, though. It isn’t safe for you.” Wasn’t that what Jack had said all along?
Go home, Jenny. Leave. It isn’t safe.

“Jenny?”

Tom’s voice was different now, familiar, and at last she saw Tom, her Tom. Relief surged through her and brought a smile to her face, quickly replaced by a determined frown.

“I’m not going without you. What else can she do to me now?”

Tom sighed, suddenly exasperated, and began to pace. “You’re a threat. If you continue to be a threat, she’ll kill you, drink your blood, eat your heart, and then she’ll…and then she’ll become you. She’s done it before. Countless times. With each May Queen she conquers. And she is not known for her patience.”

Eat my heart?
“But…” She remembered the queen’s stare, her strength and beauty. Nothing could harm such a woman. Nothing was a threat, especially not Jenny. “Why would she?”

Tom stopped and pulled her to her feet.

“You’re the May Queen. Your vision proved it. The forest found you, the king chose you, and the May Tree Throne accepted you, as your Jack must have known they would.”

“My vision?” She stared at him in amazement. “How…how do you know what I—”

Guilt reddened his face and he turned away. “Everyone saw, Jenny. It’s part of the magic. She peered into your mind and projected it as an—an entertainment for the court. She wasn’t expecting what she saw, though, and she’s
displeased
.” The coldness with which he said the last word made Jenny’s chest contract. “You’re the May Queen, little sister. Her rightful heir. One chosen by the land, by the Realm itself, found by the forest. And it’ll mean your death. When she’s ready, she’ll take your body, but you…you’ll be gone. Only the king himself can stop her. So far, he’s remained aloof. But from what you showed her, that’s all about to change. He knows, if Jack knew, for he’s bound to have told his king. And Oberon will come for you.”

Exhaustion swept through Jenny like a sudden sickness, and she swayed on her feet. Tom turned just in time to reach a hand out to her. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “I saw myself changing, becoming…her. Becoming— What is the May Queen?”

Tom looked at her, his eyes serious.

Jenny became scared. “Tom, what is the May Queen?”

He dropped his hands to his sides. “Titania’s—Mab’s rival, one of the few creatures who can withstand her. Everything is tied to nature. The old is continually replaced by the new. Mab is a very old queen, Jenny, though she changes her name, alters her appearance at whim. She has ruled for a very long time. But it begins and ends with the May Queen.”

“I don’t want to be the May Queen!”

“You don’t have a choice.” Tom’s face crumpled at the words, and Jenny found herself suddenly wanting to comfort
him
. “Titania was a May Queen once”—he took a calming breath—“a May Queen who won. A thousand years ago or more, she stepped from our world into this one of dreams and shadows, and she too defeated Queen Mab. She ate the old queen’s heart, as had been Mab’s way.”

Jenny’s stomach twisted in disgust. “Why?”

Tom shrugged, again composed. “A tradition, perhaps, a victory rite. They were different times, violent and dangerous with old and bloody magics. Or maybe it was a trick. I don’t know. But like a snake coiled beneath a stone all winter, Mab came back, even stronger.” Tom’s eyes were distant now. “And Titania wasn’t the victor anymore. They were one and the same. There were many others, whose names we haven’t heard, names no one has heard since the day they came—they weren’t so lucky. They lost and were consumed, defeated.”

“Titania and Mab—they aren’t the same person?”

His eyes snapped back to her. “They are now. The May Queen is like a mold into which the power is poured. And with power comes new life, fresh power. They haven’t seen such power as they see in you in a thousand years, Jenny. The forest didn’t come alive for me. It came for you. She can’t let you go. And Oberon won’t let her keep you here.”

“Then we ask him for help.” Even as she said it, she knew it was ridiculous. How could she hope to outwit even one of them, let alone both?

“Oberon?” Tom sighed, and his eyes hardened the way Dad’s did when he had to explain something he thought she was deliberately failing to grasp. “There was a time when there were two kings and they fought for the May Queen. Until Oberon. He started the imbalance when he defeated the trees and trapped his rival king rather than kill him. He does not allow freedom. That’s why Titania fled from him in the first place. And now he wants you in her place. He sees you as a queen he can control.”

“I won’t be controlled by anyone.” Anger flared in her voice and Tom looked back at her, a curious expression on his face.

“You sound like Mother,” he murmured. Then he shook his head and the moment was gone. “He’ll find a way to control you. They always do. Mab’s approach is simpler. Kill you. Use you. Become you. Or, failing that, have you become her.”

She swallowed hard and took his hand again. His skin was too warm, covered in a light sheen of sweat, as if he had been sitting in the noon sun for too long.

But it
was
Tom…

“Come with me.”

He shook his head. “I belong here now.”

“If you could only see…Mother and Dad…If you could have seen what they went through when you disappeared—the endless searches, the pleas on TV, the newspaper reporters everywhere, the Internet—” She studied his face, trying to see something more of the boy she had known again—the warmth and gentleness that had allowed him to create such beautiful music, so beautiful that it touched the souls of all who heard it. The music that was the very reason he had been taken.

“Mother and Dad.” He laughed bitterly. “You don’t remember what it was like, Jenny. Mother and Dad and their child prodigy. All I heard was how talented I was, how that would open so many doors. But they weren’t the doors I wanted to open. You were the only one who didn’t care if I could play or not, or who took pleasure in the music just for the sake of it, the way I used to.”