Serendipity Market (7 page)

“He hesitated before adding, ‘When I shoved him away, it wasn't just to keep him safe, you know. I wanted to be the only one.'

“He seemed to be waiting for a reaction. When I kept my face smooth and blank, he added, ‘We both did what we thought was best at the time.' His eyes traveled from my hair to my feet. ‘I look at you, and I know who made the better decision. Especially since I have only until Allhallows Eve to try to do something of note with my life. I doubt that I'll be able to manage a thing as fine as you by then.'

“I did react then. I blushed. To cover my feelings of pride and embarrassment, I asked, ‘What happens on Allhallows Eve?'

“He laughed, empty and low. ‘Surely you know of the tithe?'

“I shook my head.

“‘No?' He sounded quite surprised. ‘Peter never explained?'

“‘He never did.' I didn't bother to add that I'd only learned of Thom's existence this morning.

“Thom nodded. ‘It was always more rumor than anything. But as I said, nothing comes for free. It's true for the queen as well. Every seven years, she pays to keep her kingdom. Price—one mortal, soul and all.'

“I winced. ‘Nasty.'

“‘Most probably.'

“I knew, in a sudden flash of understanding, just what he was saying. I asked anyway. ‘We're not speaking in the abstract here, are we?'

“‘We are not.'

“I coughed a bit, cleared my throat, and finally said, ‘You're the tithe.' This time it wasn't a question.

“‘She always grows tired of you, eventually. And her life is so very, very long. I don't think she understands how precious it can all be to a mortal.' He sounded like he was giving something away, something that would offer the queen an easy out.

“‘Don't apologize for her,' I said in disbelief.

“‘Ah, but she's so easy to apologize for.' He shrugged. ‘So beautiful and so…'

“‘She sounds horrible! Self-centered. Unfeeling. And, may I remind you, she's going to kill you.' I must admit that my voice here was a bit shrill.

“‘Well. Not exactly. And even though a killing will most probably take place, it won't come from her own hand.'

“‘Oh, please. You don't want to die, but as long as she doesn't do it herself, it's acceptable?'

“Thom shrugged. ‘I just don't see another outcome. Believe me, I have been looking.'

“‘Let's think about this,' I said. ‘She's been paying her tithe for how long?'

“He shrugged again. ‘Since the beginning of time?'

“‘Are you telling me'—I tried to speak calmly, but I knew I sounded beyond angry—‘no one's ever
escaped? No one's ever just run away?' I was up now, stomping through the grass tangles. I was chilled from sitting too long in the damp, but I also needed to move, to calm down. ‘Everyone just goes along, meek and mild, and says, “Fine, make me your sacrifice, I don't mind”?'

“Thom stood, too, and stopped my pacing by touching my arm. His voice was gentle when he said, ‘It's not that easy to just run away. She can find you almost anywhere in this wide world, and seven leagues beyond it, too. On the off chance that she loses you, she'll take, in your place, whomever you hold most dear.'

“I looked at him with wide eyes.

“‘Yes,' he agreed. ‘Personally, I admit that I want nothing so much as to get out of this. I don't want to die, especially not for her. I also don't want her to go after someone else. Your father, for example.'

“‘How would she know?'

“Thom shrugged for a third time. ‘She just would. I promise you.'

“‘So there's no way out?'

“Thom hesitated, then said, ‘From all I've been able to tell, there's one and only one. And I have no real control over it.'

“I waited for several heartbeats before I said, ‘Are you going to make me ask?'

“He was almost playful when he said, ‘Someone pulls me off a horse.'

“I waited again, waited to hear the rest. Nothing else came. ‘That's it?'

“He nodded.

“‘And that doesn't count as escaping?'

“‘There are rules even she has to follow.'

“‘This may be silly,' I said carefully, ‘but why don't you just jump off on your own? It's only a horse.'

“Thom snorted, sounding very much like a horse himself. ‘Magic.'

“‘Oh.' I felt rather stupid. She was the Fey Queen, after all. ‘Of course.' I moved doggedly ahead. ‘Someone just pulls you off your horse?'

“‘There is a bit more,' he said, and then he repeated my ‘of course.'

“Wasn't there always, I thought. I was leaning against the well. The night was fading in the east. I'd been here much longer than I'd planned. ‘Can you tell the “more” quickly? If my father finds me gone…'

“There was a studied nonchalance in his voice that didn't match his words. ‘If someone gets me off the horse, I turn into things. I saw it happen once, during a rescue.'

“‘Things?'

“He gave the characteristic shrug that he'd been using all evening. ‘You know. Things. A lion. A snake. A snapping swan.'

“‘Oh, of course. Things like that. I should have known.'

“‘Sarcasm?'

“I ignored that and said, ‘And?'

“‘And the rescuer needs to hold on. If she lets go, the queen's won once again. From what I understand, she almost always does. And then it's all over for me.'

“‘The one you watched—she let go?'

“‘Didn't make it past the snake.'

“I thought about this for almost a minute. ‘It has to be a she?'

“‘Ah. No.' In the faint light of the rising sun I could see him blush. ‘Not a she. Just a lover.'”

 

“I got home before I was missed, but just barely. I tried every definition of the word ‘lover' I could think of as I fed the goats, cleaned their pens, washed and polished the dishes and utensils, chopped, and swept. All definitions made me nervous.

“I had started this by wanting to reclaim a house and the honor of my family name. Now it seemed
that I was being called upon to reclaim a life. I was in deeper than I'd expected, and it seemed that I was going to have to go deeper still if I truly wanted to save this man—my father's best friend, long vanished.

“Suddenly I wished I'd never heard of Thom Lyndenhall or Carter House. My wishing didn't make things go away. Something had to be done, and it looked like it was up to me to do it. After all, it was only two weeks until Halloween.

“The next night, I went back. This time I picked no roses. It wasn't necessary. Both he and his horse were standing by the well, looking as if they'd known I was coming, looking as if we'd had this date arranged for weeks.

“‘Maisie,' he said.

“‘Thom.'

“We were both so very polite, acting as if we were meeting for the first time at a formal-dress party. Then he smiled. My breath slipped and caught in my throat.
In the slow, slanted autumn moonlight, he looked like a true consort for the queen. I could see why she'd wanted him those twenty-one years ago.

“The only thing I couldn't see was why she'd decided to let him go.

“‘I've thought about what you said.' I was close to him now, close enough to touch.

“‘Have you?'

“I nodded. And then I kissed him, and he kissed back, a deep kiss, full of longing. We finally pulled apart and breathed air into our lungs. I leaned against his warmth and strength, and I said, ‘Tell me again, what will you turn into when you're pulled from that horse?'

“We spent the next ten days plotting. He repeated the colors and order of the horses in the queen's procession until I was reciting them in my sleep.

“A little poem he'd written to help me keep everything straight, no matter how scared I became.

“I also memorized the things he might turn into. For this I had no poem. We were guessing at best, based on what he'd seen with his own eyes. Lion. Snapping swan. Adder. And just how, I wondered, did one protect oneself from an adder wrapped in one's arms? Or the teeth of a lion? Or…

“I finally came to the obvious conclusion that I would have to deal with things as they came. Forewarned is forearmed, but I could only do so much.

“In between lions and horses, we spent time getting to know each other.

“‘Moons about like she's in love,' I heard my father say to my mother one evening. He sounded both astonished and sad.

“My mother said nothing, but she began pressing special bitter-tasting teas into my hands at meals. The winks she gave me along with the teas let me know that she knew just what I might be doing. I blessed her for her understanding.

“I waited until forty-five minutes before midnight on the night of Halloween before I left our cottage. No one tried to stop me. This may have been because of the low-voiced argument I had heard early in the evening, behind my parents' closed bedroom door. I believed my mother was the winner. When I cracked open the front door and slid through like the thinnest sliver of moonlight, I relied on that belief, and the fact that the only words I had heard clearly from their argument had been ‘Peter, leave her be!'

“I hid my hair under a loden-green cloak of thick wool, as the night air was turning to frost on the grasses. The moon was thinning in the clear sky. The stars looked like they could cut glass, and the
constellations were so brilliant, they looked as if they were planning to come to life as soon as they neared the ground.

“I went to Miles Cross, the crossroads closest to Carter House. Horses, I was assuming, even magic horses, would need roads. This was close to the spot where Thom had first been taken. I hid myself close to the bank of the Mile River. Then I shivered in the frost and the moonlight, and I waited.

“It wasn't that long before I heard the creak and jangle of leather bridles mixed with the jaunty, metallic ringing of bells. In the moonlight and shadows I saw the horses coming, coming in the exact order that Thom had described. First came the black, ebony dappled with starshine. On his back was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, tall, slender, ethereal. Her mane of hair reached to her knees and flowed around her like a cloak of shimmering gold.

“Behind her came the court, on horses in all shades
of brown. These people, too, were tall and lovely. And remote. They rode straight-backed, and they looked ahead in a line as straight as their backs. Their eyes never once strayed to the right or the left.

“Finally, at the end of the procession, with more space between him and the court than there had been between the court and the queen, there was Thom. He was astride a horse the color of cold, fresh cream. He was dressed in white silks and leggings the color of new leaves in spring. There was a garland of French lilacs, lily of the valley, rue, purple hyacinth, and lavender around his neck, and a circlet of red-and-white clover around his head. There was a frozen, hopeless kind of smile on his face, and desperation in his eyes.

“I pulled in my breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and crossed my arms and fingers, pleading for strength. As the white horse passed me, I jumped from my hiding place and flung myself at Thom. The horse shied, but I caught Thom's leg just below the knee, wrapped my
arms around his calf, and pulled. The horse went one way, and Thom and I went another. Thom came off so easily that I knew he had to be helping as much as he was able.

“We tumbled together, a jumble of arms, legs, bodies, and heads, onto the cold, stiff grass. I felt my green cloak rip. Thom's mouth was close to my ear when he gasped, ‘I wasn't sure you'd really come.' I might have tried to answer, but the breath was knocked out of me, and the sound of iron-shod hoofs fading in the distance held all my attention. That is until, to my left, I heard a cry of displeasure from the queen.

“But Thom was still in my arms, half on top of me, still very much a human being. I was finally able to gasp, ‘I told you I would,' and was mentally congratulating myself, feeling bruised but proud, when his silks and skin melted into fur, and his slim body turned into a mass of muscles. A roar blew hot breath on my face as I grappled ineptly with a lion. A small
lion, but a lion all the same.

“The lion twisted and clawed, and just as I was sure I couldn't hold on for a fraction of a second longer, the shape changed again into something feathered, with enormous wings and a snapping black beak. My harried brain recognized the thing as the second transformation Thom had mentioned, the swan. I tried to hold the neck and the wings both, but as soon as I felt that I had everything caught and held steady, one wing would come up, flapping, or the beak would snap much too close to my face.

“I fought and tried to keep from harming the bird, because if something happened to it, what would happen to Thom? I was already a mass of scratches and bumps, and I was only up to the second transformation. Then the shape changed again. Now it was something long, thick, and hissing, with fangs exposed. Adder, I thought, even as I yelped and shifted my grip. I grabbed the snake around the neck and held that
fang-filled mouth as far away from my face as my arms would reach.

“The snake's head bobbed closer. I screamed. Tears were running down my cheeks. I was cold and wet, but here I was, up to the third thing, and Thom hadn't said a word about anything else. If I could just hold on a bit longer…

“Which was, of course, when Thom changed again. The snake disappeared, and I was clutching a burning brand of iron, so hot it was like holding the midday summer sun. I screamed again. My parents, safe in their beds, should have been able to hear me. I had to get rid of this—there was no possible way to hold on to it—and then I saw my cloak. I let go with one arm, grabbed the thick wool, wrapped the iron and half of my right leg in it, and jumped straight into the Mile River.