A cart rumbled past, and she jumped out of the way before following the crowd to the market square where people sold their wares. Everything from fresh fruit to home-spun clothing and ceramic dishes.
A butcher slammed a slab of meat onto a table near her, making her jump and clutch her chest. She watched him hack away at it with a cleaver before moving on. One booth caught her eyes. A handmade sign read Eldur beans. She wondered if she could get someone at the palace to make some Eldur brew from them.
Fishing a few gold coins Tierney gave her from her pocket, she approached the vender.
A young man, probably only a few years older than her met her gaze, sliding it down to take in her clothing. “You’re the one who escaped Fargelsi.”
How did he know?
As if sensing her question, he smiled, revealing a wide gap between his two front teeth. “We recognize strangers here.”
“Oh.” She held out two coins, and his eyes widened.
“Do you even know how much money that is?”
She shook her head.
“Enough for this here whole cart of Eldur beans and then some. It’s only two coppers per bag, but I’mma give you one for free.” He smiled again, satisfied with himself. “Anyone who defies Regan of Gelsi is a friend of Ollie’s.” Ollie must be him.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Sure I do, miss—”
“Brea.”
He nodded as he reached for a canvas sack and scooped Eldur beans into it. “All right, Brea. Though, with you living at the palace, I dunno what you want with Eldur beans.” He handed her the bag.
“Thank you, Ollie.”
His grin widened. “Hey, Lew,” he called, looking toward one of the other carts. “A richie knows my name.”
She really had to get some new clothes so everyone would stop calling her that. Her parents in Ohio had never been well-off. Compared to Myles’ family, they were poor, and they dressed like it. Eyes followed her as she escaped from the market as fast as she could, uncomfortable with the attention.
If Lochlan were there, he’d bull his way through the crowd, leaving ample space for her in his wake. Finn would probably grab her elbow and make sure she was okay.
But they weren’t there, leaving her alone once more.
Keeping a tight grip of the Eldur beans that would keep her sane in this place, she left the market behind, ducking into a familiar building on her right. Once inside the quiet bookstore, she released a breath and leaned against the door.
“Brea, that you, dear?”
“Fiona.” Brea sighed in relief as she caught sight of the silver-haired woman walking toward her. She’d met the older woman at the palace when Fiona was tidying the library. The queen hired her to rotate the books and keep the selection fresh—with the exception of the human books. Those always stayed.
“Are you okay?” Concern etched into her every feature. “You look stressed.”
She pushed away from the door. “I wonder why.”
Fiona was one of the few people in the city who knew everything—well, almost everything. She didn’t know Brea was the real daughter of Faolan.
“Still no word?” She set the book she was carrying on the front counter.
Brea shook her head. “Not so much as a messenger.” She followed Fiona farther into the two-story store. At the back, a spiral staircase led to the upper stacks, a section Fiona called her human stories. Brea laughed the first time she found all the leather-bound tomes depicting stories about the human world.
She’d told Fiona the humans wrote about fae worlds as well, and they’d both had a good laugh at that. The first laughter Brea felt since learning the truth about her identity.
She was a changeling. Abandoned by her mother to be raised in the human realm where the things she saw and did because of her fae heritage made her an outcast, deemed a lunatic.
She still hadn’t forgiven her mother for that.
And what about Alona? She grew up thinking she was one of the unfortunate fae born without powers, someone destined to join the serving class.
It wasn’t fair to either of them.
“I know what you need, dear.” Fiona led her up the back staircase. “I found a book I think you will enjoy greatly. It is meant for children, but…” She ran a finger over the spines until she came to a book of stories called Humantales. Just like the humans called them fairytales.
A smile spread Brea’s lips as she flipped open the cover and thumbed through pages about princesses and kings that were obviously influenced by real human history.
Fiona put a hand on her shoulder. “Only a few fae clans have ever had the ability to open portals into the human realm, but over the centuries, many stories have filtered out and spawned fables of a world without magic.”
“Why would anyone want stories about a world that didn’t have magic?” She stopped on a page depicting Henry VIII as a benevolent king. It was a love story. She snorted. What would these people say if they knew the real history?
Fiona smiled softly. “We always want to imagine a world different than our own. Magic is not the great force some claim. It destroys just as much as it saves. Sometimes, I wonder if our world wouldn’t be so broken without it.”
“The human realm is broken too, Fiona. You don’t need magic for that.”
Fiona sighed. “The human world has wars and strife, yes, but magic has erased entire kingdoms from the fae world.”
“What?” She snapped the book shut. “There was a fourth kingdom?”
“It serves only as a prison now.” Sadness tinged her eyes. “Magic can sometimes be like dropping a nuclear bomb into a situation that calls for the delicate carving of a knife.”
“Wait… how do you know about nukes?” Brea wracked her brain for anything that made sense. As far as she knew, the fae didn’t have that technology. They didn’t need it with their magic.
Fiona tapped her nose. “Follow me.”
They walked down the stairs and crossed the store to the front counter. Fiona rounded it and reached into a compartment below, pulling free a book. She set it on the counter, and Brea’s eyes widened.
“Where on earth did you get a US history book?” She ran a hand over the cover that showed a map of the country she’d called home most of her life.
“The palace library.”
“You took one of Lochlan’s books?” A smile slid across her face.
Fiona flipped through the pages. “He lets me borrow them as long as the queen doesn’t find out. She only allows him to bring them back from the human realm if he agrees to keep them close. She does not want human books leaving her walls.”
Brea understood immediately. If the people of Eldur read human books, they might make the connection to her. No one could know Lochlan travelled to the human realm.
“Fiona?”
“Yes?” She glanced up, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
“You said only some families can create portals. How many are there now?”
“Well, that we know of in the last few decades… two. The Rifkin Clan is the nearest to the prison realm, though, so if travelers wish to pay them for passage, they must traverse those haunted lands. The Eldur courts do not recognize their noble status.”