The stone walls of the castle were the same as ever, decorated in a flashy display of the Titania's unfathomable power. Tae had spent hours staring at them, longing for the open spaces of the garden or the forest. Somewhere he could run and fly and see the humans. He felt like a fly caught in a spider's web, able to only sit and wait. How long he would be confined this time was anyone's guess.

"Tae!"

Tae stopped his pacing to whirl around and face his sister. "What?" he snapped. He instantly regretted it, seeing her lavender eyes dim and her shimmering wings droop the slightest bit. He sighed. "I'm sorry, Erela, what is it?"

The little girl balanced on her toes, a grin splitting her face. "Can we go to the market?"

As a child Tae had loved visiting the market, listening to the storytellers and watching the performers, exploring the treasures for sale, and even at his age he could find no end to entertainment there. Now, though, he wanted nothing to do with the hot, crowded courtyard.

But the consequences for disobeying his mother's orders would be far worse.

"Yes, let's go." He followed her through the hallways, her skipping ahead of him, airborne for a few feet and then touching the ground again.

In the courtyard fae parted to let the pair maneuver through the crowd. Erela darted between booths, forcing Tae to hurry to keep her in sight. It was unlikely any harm would come to the princess, but without a guard present Tae was to stand in as her protection, and if she remained out of sight for long his aching head would be the least of his pains.

"Erela!" he called after her fleeting form, dodging a weapons merchant demonstrating the sharpness of a blade to a potential customer. He caught up to his sister at a jeweler who was displaying her finest works to the Tybala. The precious gems sparkled in the faery light, mirrored in Erela's eyes.

"Tybal," the jeweler respectfully acknowledged Tae's approach, and he nodded once in greeting. "Is there anything I may do for you this morning?"

Erela lifted a bracelet made from woven leather and deep blue jewels. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

The jeweler smiled and ducked her head humbly. "I'm honored for you to say so, Tybala."

Tae pulled a handful of coins from his pocket. "Your work is magnificent. How much for the bracelet?" Erela turned her bright face on him and he gave her a half-smile. However irritating she may have been at times, her enthusiasm brightened his foul mood.

"For you, nothing," the jeweler insisted. "The color is lovely on you, Tybala." Erela gasped a thank-you and slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, twirling away. Tae echoed her and turned to leave, but the jeweler stopped him. "And for you as well, Tybal," she added, offering a pendant; a creamy-white stone shot through with black veins, hung on a dark leather band. Tae took it carefully, running his thumb over the stone's perfectly smooth surface, cool as glass. "It comes from the river. The rushing water wears stones down until they are flawless like this one."

"You could sell this for a thousand coins," he told her. River-stones were rare and not at all easy to find; few ventured so far to collect them.

She shook her head. "It is a gift, for your upcoming coronation. You will be a wonderful Titani, if I may say."

He slipped the pendant over his head, unable to refuse, though his upbringing had taught him that taking free items of such value was an abuse of his position. "I will wear it at the coronation," he said truthfully, "and spread word of your pieces. Thank you."

"It suits you," she replied, smiling. "Fly well, Tybal, Tybala."

They parted and after a few more stops to browse merchants' booths Erela became restless. "Can't we play a game?" she asked finally with a bored sigh.

"Not here; the market is too crowded. Mother will have my head if we get separated."

She chewed on her lower lip. "What about inside?"

"I'm sick of being stuck inside, Erela."

"I want to do something, Tae," she almost whined, but a Tybala was not to whine.

Tae fingered his pendant, thinking. The jeweler's voice rang in his head. You will be a wonderful Titani.

It was a terrible idea. It was an idea that would get him absolutely killed if Titania found out. He'd be beaten without mercy and left to starve until she decided he had learned his lesson.

Oh, but it would be fun.

"How about," he said slowly, fighting a mischievous grin, "I show you a new place? We could play lots of games there."

Erela nodded. "Yes! Yes! Where is it?"

He pulled his hood up and then hers and placed a finger over his lips. "It's a secret place. We can't even tell Mother where it is, do you understand?" She giggled and nodded. "Good. Now come on." He pulled her into the air after him, beating his wings hard to reach the dome that arched over the underground market. The top of the castle reached its downward slope on one side and the two fae hovered here while Tae searched the walls of the dome for an opening. It was a hole he'd used to sneak away many times; though as the years passed, and it had gotten tight, he could still squeeze through it with his wings pulled in, and it would be easy for Erela. He supposed he should inform Titania about it, so that it could be fixed for the safety of the castle, but how many threats could there be to a place underground that went unknown even by most other fae?

Besides, if it was sealed away he'd have no way to leave when he wasn't supposed to.

He pushed Erela through first and then clung to roots as he pulled his wings in flat against his back. Without their support his weight made it difficult to hoist himself through the opening, but he got his feet beneath him with a little trouble and surveyed the area. From the outside, the opening looked like a burrow or animal den, nothing unusual among the thickly wooded area along the edge of the house's grounds.

Motioning for Erela to be quiet and follow him, Tae navigated the grounds quickly to the large garden. She went wide-eyed at the sight of it and darted between the towering plants for a moment before bolting back and grabbing his arm.

"Tae!" she hissed. "This is the human garden, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I thought you'd like it. Isn't it beautiful?"

"Mother said—"

"I know what Mother said," he cut her off gently. "I've been here a million times, Erela. Trust me, it's perfectly safe." She still didn't look convinced. "And if there do happen to be any humans, we'll hear them coming and can hide. They're not difficult to hide from." He could see her expression soften, and grinned. "Now how about your game?"

"I want to play hide-and-go-seek," she announced in her most matter-of-fact way, and Tae laughed.

"Alright, hide-and-go-seek it is. I'll count." He turned away and began counting aloud, slowly in order to give her time to hide, and waited until he heard the shuffling of her movements to die down before he stopped. "Time's up, Erela."

Erela was no child when it came to such games, no matter how she might have appeared, and Tae knew better than to underestimate her. He checked even the most obvious hiding places, in case she might try to trick him, and then moved onto the places that would be more difficult to get to. The highest branches, the smallest gaps in the plant life. Her coloring would let her blend in with the flowers easily, and he kept a sharp eye out.

A rustling reached him from the thicket of plants nearby, and he smirked. She was shifting position or finding a new hiding spot—a mistake on her part. He darted around the path's corner to meet her where she would be visible, about to shout out his victory.

His wings carried him as much as his feet and he had to pinwheel backwards to avoid crashing into the person standing in the middle of the path. His heart in this throat, he blurted out an apology before he even registered who it was.

Tae was face-to-face with the human girl, the girl with the coal-black hair tied away from her face, little wisps escaping to curl around her ears. And she stared at him as if she had just seen a tree grow legs and walk away. Too shocked to think, he stood frozen and stared back.

This was more than I could handle. A book was one thing, a few strange but explainable occurrences were fine, but having a fairy standing in front of me was completely different, and much too crazy.

He was not how I had pictured them. Somehow, thinking about them, I had never thought of them as people, just fantastic magical creatures. But he looked like a person. He had two arms, and two legs, and a head just like anybody else I had ever met. No taller than me—five-foot-six at the very most—his build was slender and delicate, his skin snow-pale with almost a blue tint to it, though it was so subtle I wasn't sure. He had a mess of curly hair, windblown and decorated with leaves, that was such a strange mix of colors I had no name for it. Blues and purples of every shade dominated it, but I saw streaks of white, black, green, and yellow as well. The wings that flicked nervously were beautiful: blue-green veins within thin, colorless skin that warped the view behind them. They were shaped like a dragonfly's, the top pair narrow and curved, the bottom larger and rounder. But his eyes were the most striking—they were violet, a deep, exotic color that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

We stared at each other for a long moment before either of us spoke. "Hello," he greeted me, an edge of nervousness in his voice.

It took me a minute to respond. "Hi," I choked out finally, unable to tear my eyes away, though I was beginning to realize that I had been staring at him for a little longer than could possibly be socially acceptable.

He didn't seem to mind; he had yet to take his eyes off of me. "You're human." It was a simple observation, but it was groundbreaking in the moment. He seemed as enthralled by my appearance as I was by his, and studied me carefully, intently. I felt the heat of a blush in my face.

"Um, yeah. You're..." I trailed off. I couldn't say it. This wasn't happening.

"Fae," he supplied.

"Fae." The word felt strange in my mouth. "You're fae."

"Yes, I am."

"That's not possible. You can't be real." My calmness on the matter shocked me.

He looked down and then back at me, as if making sure that he was still there. He had a way of looking up from under his long, dark eyelashes. "I promise I am." I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept quiet, still gaping. He laughed and my blush grew hotter. His laugh was musical. I moved closer to inspect his wings and he spun to face me again as if he was guarding them. "You're Juliaesa's girl," he said.

It clicked then. "You're who she was talking about yesterday. You were with her."

He nodded. "I visit her when I can. She's very sick."

"I know. Why do you call her Juliaesa?"

"That's her name."

"Her name is Julia."

"Juliaesa is my name for her," he replied with a shrug. "What is your name?"

"Cassie." I don't know why I was so at ease telling a strange boy with wings in the garden my name. Maybe I thought I was dreaming. Maybe I knew he was no threat.

"Cassiesa."

He'll call you Cassiesa, he will.

I shook my head. "This is crazy."

"I don't know why you can see me."

"What do you mean?"

"You shouldn't be able to see me." He looked around, as if he was expecting to find evidence that this was some prank—on him, I couldn't help but think sarcastically. If either of us was the butt of a joke, it was me. "Usually it's only children. And Juliaesa."

That piqued my curiosity. "Why?"

"Humans become blind to their world when they grow older." There was some deep sorrow in the way he said it, but he brightened again quickly. "I'm glad, though. I didn't want to be alone when Juliaesa left. It will be soon, I can feel it, and there are no children to be raised here anymore."

For generations my family had passed down the house and raised their children in it; Julia had always stayed, though she'd never married or had any children, but my mother had moved away. I would have been the child raised here, had she not. I would have been the child who had seen him long ago.

That thought sent a bolt of anger through me. My parents had taken this from me. They had taken me from this house, and the fae that I might have known earlier. Though I knew it wasn't their fault—they didn't know, and they had believed they were picking a better life for themselves and me—it still upset me. All those years daydreaming of adventure, and it was sitting here.

"I should have been," I told the fae slowly, not realizing I had voiced the words until they'd come out.

He gave me a dismissive, oh-well sort of look and looked around us again. "Am I the only fae you've seen?"

"Yeah."

"Are you certain?"

"I think I would've remembered."

His eyes slowly widened as he continued to search around us. "I need to go, I'm sorry." He spoke slowly, distracted, and the stiff way he stood made it clear that something was wrong. Before I got a chance to say anything else he bolted away down the path.

"Hey!" I called after him, chasing him for a few steps. He stopped to look over his shoulder. "You never told me your name."

"Tae," he replied, and instantly he was gone, vanished among the plants or into the air I couldn't tell. He moved impossibly quickly, out of sight before I could tell which way he'd gone. I wasn't sure what to make of it all.

I had to speak to Julia. That was the only thought that ran through my mind and I weaved as quickly as I could through the garden to the gate. My feet pounded against the ground as I ran back to the house, grinning. Logically I wanted to call what had just happened a dream or a hallucination or something else explainable, but too big a part of me knew it wasn't. I had spoken to a faery, a faery who called himself Tae, and he had been as real as anything.

I slowed and kept quiet when I got inside, hoping I could get upstairs into Julia's room without getting in trouble. But I heard my parents and Mrs. Thurston chatting in the other room, so I slipped up the stairs as quietly as possible.

Julia was up, bracing herself at the window, when I pushed the door open. She turned to me, eyes shining. "You met him." I nodded, breathless. "I told you he wanted to meet you, didn't I?"

"Who is he?" I needed to know. I'd gotten a name and nothing more, and I had to learn more about him and the fae. The need burned in me.

Julia sat down carefully on the bed with a far-off smile, her eyes decades away. "He's Taerem Yarik." She lifted one of her books and lovingly stroked the cover. "I was younger than you when I first met him. Just a little girl, hardly old enough to be out on my own. Your mother knew him then, too, but she's forgotten since."

I sat next to her. "Aunt Julia, the person I met was my age, maybe. He can't be your friend from that long ago. He said his name was Tae."

"Tae," she echoed, nodding. "That's what he likes to be called. The fae age differently than us, Cassie. He's older than you or I, older than this house, older than history, I would bet. But he loves humans. It's a tragic thing, you know, to love something so much that lasts for such a small fraction of your lifetime."

"That is sad."

"But you'll be a good friend to him, I'm sure of it. You can see him."

"Why—"

I jumped at a knock on the door, and before I could move my mother walked in with a tray of food. "I brought your lunch, Julia." She stopped when she saw me, lips pursed in anger. "Cassie, why don't you come downstairs to eat?" The words were friendly, but her eyes were anything but.

I slowly stood, knowing I was in trouble, and gave Julia a helpless look before I left. Mom closed the door behind us, turning on me. "I told you not to go in there alone." I nodded, eyes down. I wasn't going to open my mouth and get myself in more trouble. "The last thing Julia needs is for you to be bothering her—and especially feeding her problems. The more you engage in this fairy stuff the worse she'll get. She deserves to be able to rest and not have you bugging her with questions about things that don't exist."

"I just—"

"No excuse, Cassie. I don't want you to go in that room uninvited again. I'm happy letting you have free reign in the house and grounds aside from that, but that will have to be taken away if you can't obey the rules we do set down. Now go on, lunch is ready."

"She wants to talk about them, isn't it fair to her to let her? I mean she is...dying." I said the word in almost a whisper, not wanting Julia to hear the argument or to upset my mother too much. She was her sister, after all. "She might as well talk about what she wants to talk about. If it makes her happy."

"That's enough, Cassie. I know it doesn't seem fair, but we're trying to make her as comfortable as possible and she gets upset easily. It could make her condition worse. Now go."

I bit back another protest and turned to the stairs, jaw clenched. Julia was my key to the fae, I knew that. She knew them, and they knew her. And I needed to know more. Such a quick, fleeting glimpse into that world wasn't enough. At all.