Ice Princess

Rose told her to rest that night and in the morning they would begin training. Not that she wanted that in the first place. No, she just ran out of fear. The look on his face when he turned back was too much. And it just happened.

Sibyl shuddered at the memory. When she thought of them she saw the crystal trying to force its way through Reeve, breaking his skin. Then she saw the blood on his lips, the yellow in his eyes, and the way it all shattered. Worse yet, she heard his grunts and cries. It was too much. She needed to get away and wrap her head around it. Or maybe not talk to them again. It just… No, she couldn’t think on it any more, lying in her bed.

And Rose, what was going to happen now? Nothing in Sibyl wanted to be like Rose. Not even the elegant side of her appealed to Sibyl. But if she was right about them being Seelie and she didn’t have to deal with another lesson from Xavier then there had to be perks to working with Rose.

It just seemed like there was something off about Rose.

Late at night she was still contemplating her decision, and it kept coming down to the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, like neither options were okay. Like maybe this was why Celia never talked about Faerie, the UnSeelie, or the Order in the first place.

****

Their first lesson wasn’t what she expected. Rose instructed her to visit Celia in the hospital, not that there were any updates in the first place. And anyway, she’d been visiting. Though as of late she avoided it.

“We’re just going to look at her today,” Rose explained as they walked through the hospital halls, making her skin itch. “Look for the Fae in her.”

They arrived in her room and Sibyl stilled at the door. There she was, as if lost in sleep but with dark circles under her eyes and a hollowness to her cheeks. 

“What’s happening to her?” Sibyl asked.

Rose seethed behind her. “Iron. They must be pumping iron into her. Idiots.” She swooped in past Sibyl and to Celia’s side, grabbing her hand and touching her forehead with her other hand.

“What are you doing?”

A small light radiated from Rose’s hands. Her fingers moved in a circular motion and she took in a sharp breath. When she pulled away wrinkles appeared by her eyes before she snapped her fingers in front of her face. Rose collapsed into a chair, splaying out and making Sibyl do a double take. A piece of her hair fell out of place.

“I just took the iron out of her. They’ll kill her if they keep this up,” Rose replied, leaning her head back. “I’m going to teach you to do the same.”

“Wait if the iron’s killing her we should tell the doctors,” Sibyl replied, motioning behind her to the nurses and bustling staff.

Rose snorted a laugh. Whatever this iron was doing to her was odd. “They won’t listen. Humans need iron. Fae, on the other hand, are weakened by it.”

“It doesn’t weaken me,” Sibyl countered. “I’m anemic. I need iron.”

“No, you’re Fae. Your body doesn’t produce iron because your mother’s Fae. She just gave you iron tablets so no one would notice and to hide your abilities,” Rose retorted, like it was obvious. Sibyl’s brows furrowed.

“What?”

“I think someone switched your iron tablets with your mother’s Glamor medication. She took your iron, it weakened her, then these humans keep giving her iron. So she can’t wake up. Likewise, you were given medication to strengthen your Glamor, not that you know how to use it,” Rose explained. “Anyway, Celia got the idea to give you iron tablets after doctors claimed you were anemic. You were showing signs of power at a young age so they needed to hide it.”

Sibyl grabbed the nearest seat and tried to think it over. Sure it made sense why she would do that, but who would do that to her mother and why?

“How do you know all this?”

“Your mother and I kept in contact. How do you think I knew to come to you?” Rose replied, staring at Celia. There was a softness to her, slight touches of imperfection on her face thanks to the iron.

“And who do you think poisoned her?”

This time her dark gaze met Sibyl’s. They didn’t need to speak, her stomach plummeting. No… She couldn’t mean…

“The Aislins,” Sibyl answered under her breath. “They came the same day she was poisoned.”

“And the Order knows all about Celia,” Rose agreed with a slight nod. “They’ll want you on their side.”

“Why?”

“Why not? You aren’t bound to Faerie laws like them. If they can’t bind you themselves they’ll use that for their own gain.” She didn’t elaborate further but her neck stretched as if strained. Her jaw clenched and again her gaze returned to Celia.

“Your mother is an UnSeelie princess,” she began after some time through grit teeth. “You need to protect her.”

“How? I don’t know how to take the iron like you did.”

Rose bit back her lips, tilting her head to the side. “By tonight you’ll know. You’re not a sweeper and there’s no sweeper blood in you but you’ll learn.”

“Are you a sweeper?”

A snort escaped her. “No. I’m a mutt. I have some sweeper abilities, but not enough to heal her. You won’t either, but if we help little by little she can wake up and get out of here.”

“Then what?”

“Patience, Sibyl,” Rose countered. “We have a lot of work ahead of us.

****

When she arrived for her shift at the antique store later that day she was at a loss. There was no avoiding Reeve when they both worked there. Did he have to pick the same place she worked?

Sibyl sat in the back room full of items not for sale or headed to the dump. Tapping her foot, she listened to the ticking grandfather clock in the corner.  There was a knock on the door.

“You have to come out sometime,” Reeve said on the other side. Something bumped against the door, maybe his head. “Can we talk?”

No.

After a few moments of silence, Reeve caught on. He took a deep breath, knocking his fist against the door. “Do you think it's easy?” he whispered in a voice laced with a thousand tears, “Knowing I'm a monster who'd hurt his own sister?”

Sibyl didn't respond. No, she couldn't imagine. And worse yet, if Rose was right about them…

“I'll tell the manager you're not feeling well,” Reeve said, moving away from the door. “I'm not going to force you to talk.”

Her lips formed into a straight line. She couldn't avoid them forever. But she... She couldn't get that image out of her head. And those cries.

And Celia. Celia, dying of iron in the hospital.

Rising, she cast one last glance at the clock before opening the door. The store was empty. Rubbing her hands together, she walked to the register. Reeve was dusting and making his way to the back of the store. Neither spoke.

The stillness in the air made her skin itch. She sucked in her lips and closed her eyes, but when she did she saw the crystal piercing his skin.

“Hey.”

Sibyl jumped. Tanner Wells smiled, hands in his pockets as he leaned against the door. “Holy cheeseburgers Tanner. You scared the crap out of me.” She put her hand on her heart, letting out a few exasperated breaths. Boots stomped on the ground as Reeve ran over.

“What's going on? Is something wrong?” he asked until he saw Tanner. Reeve straightened, tugging on his collar. “Oh. Hi. Sorry, I thought… Never mind.” Sibyl rubbed her hands together. “It's nice to see you.”

Tanner nodded. “You too.” Reeve smiled and walked away, leaving the two alone.

Sibyl cleared her throat. “Can I help you?”

“You could say that.”

Her eyes narrowed. It dawned on her that there was something different about Tanner. He didn't look as disheveled and nervous as usual. Rather there was an air of confidence to him. Tanner ran a hand through his dirty blond waves.

“So, I'm sure you heard about the dance coming up,” he started. The Snow Ball? Everyone knew about it. She avoided it.

“Yeeaaah. Why?”

“Well.” He scratched the back of his neck. His smile was shy and sweet as honey. “I'm sure you know who I want to go with.”

Sibyl's lips formed into a straight line. “Mmm hmmm…” Her heart beat wildly. Tanner? The same Tanner who peed his pants in third grade when they went to Yellowstone was about to ask her to the dance? She wasn't sure if she was weirded out or wanted to laugh at the irony.

“So I was wondering if you,” he hesitated, chuckling under his breath. Now that she got a good look at him he was kind of cute. In an awkward nerdy way. “Would uh...”

“Yes! Yes of course!” Sibyl spat out. Giggles escaped her and she put her hands over her mouth. It shot out of her. But she hated dances. They brought back dark memories. What got into her?

Tanner took a moment to register her response but a smile bloomed across his face. “Perfect! You're the best Sibyl.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled. He moved from the door.

“Great. I could never ask Josephine without your help,” Tanner said before waving and heading for the door.

Sibyl stopped. Josephine? He wanted her help with asking Josephine to the dance? Her expression dropped as she watched him leave.

****

As soon as she walked to her car, Reeve came out of the store. They stopped. There in his eyes was yellow that gave way to a crystal beast. Sibyl bit her lip. His bright demeanor was gone and he lowered his head.

“Hey,” he said.

Sibyl gulped. “Hey.”

His weight shifted between his feet. “What did Tanner want?”

“My help with something.”

Silence.

Her attention diverted to everything but him. Was it there, under his skin? Could he feel it? Was he trying hard to keep it from breaking him? Her fingers quivered.

“I...” She paused. “I'm not good at confrontations.”

She stared at her feet. No, that wouldn't do. She had to look him in the eyes when she said this. But all she saw were yellow speckles flitted across grassy green eyes. “I think I need some time to myself.”

“I guess so.”

Sibyl wrinkled her nose, trying to keep her burning eyes from crying. The back of her throat was dry and she kept hearing Reeve's scream as the crystal pierced his skin, breaking him.

“Does it hurt?” she whispered. “When... it comes out?”

Reeve darkened, turning away. “Imagine every bit of your skin being torn a part. That's what it feels like.”

She hugged herself, shuddering. “I'd hate to feel that.”

“I wouldn't want you to. It's my burden, not yours.” He wiped his hands down his face. “I just want you to be careful when it happens.”

That night after dinner Rose brought her to the living room and sat her on Thomas’s armchair. Rose had to lean over to plant her hands on Sibyl’s shoulders. “This is going be hard and a lot of trial and error, but we need to figure this out in order for you to help your mother.”

“But you said I’m not a sweeper,” she reminded, noting how dark Rose’s eyes were compared to Reeve’s vibrant green ones. Sibyl forced that thought away.

“Right, you’re not. So we need to focus your energy in a different way,” Rose replied. Pulling back, she let out a sigh. “Which will be hard thanks to your lack of understanding of your own ability. But this needs to come first. Then we can step back.”

“You can’t keep doing it, can you?” Sibyl asked. Rose rubbed her eyes, bags forming under them and lines deepening her frown.

“No, I can’t. I’m not invincible Sibyl. I can die just as much as you can.” Her hand dropped to her side. “It’s a simple thing but again, I have sweeper blood in me. You just have to focus on taking the negative energy from Celia, which will be the iron. It won’t hurt you like it does me.”

“But it’ll weaken my abilities,” she noted.

“Well if you stop taking those pills it should even out,” Rose countered. “You can try it with me. Energy isn’t hard to find. It’s the prickly sensation you get on your hands. And energy is focused in different places. Bad energy is heavy. It weighs you down.”

“But you touched Celia’s head to take the bad energy from her.”

“She was lying down and that energy focused all over. Why else do you think she won’t wake up?” Rose explained. Then she sat down in swift elegant motions. “Come, practice.”

Sibyl got up from the chair but stood awkwardly. “And… Now what?”

“Well you can’t do anything from there. We’ll start from the hands. Take my hands and try to find the energy.” As she said this Rose held out her palms. Sibyl hesitated before sitting in front of her and grabbed her hands. It was an almost instant reaction. A shiver of energy swept through her, connecting to Rose. “Powerful isn’t it? But try to focus on just me, not the combined power of our energy.”

Sibyl closed her eyes. It was almost like the butterflies, but not all over the place and quite as comforting. If their energies were colors Rose’s would be a swirl of many different colors, whereas Sibyl’s was just peacock blue. Together they clashed, screamed, exploded with power. So much power. But it wasn’t about the energies together but separate.

Rose’s, that tornado of color, almost crashed over hers in a tidal wave of history.  They were like color waves surrounding her, waves Sibyl could touch and wrap around her fingers. But with all those colors how could anyone tell what was bad?

The colors, energy, and power were gone and Sibyl opened her eyes with a start. Rose withdrew her hands and put them on her lap, staring her down. “Well that’s better than nothing,” she muttered.

“I couldn’t find it.” Her shoulders slumped.

“I think you got too caught up in the energy. It’ll be easier with your mother because she’s an Original. No mixed up energy there.” Rose flipped her hair over her shoulder, a touch of annoyance making her eyes narrow. “But I think you’ll be fine.”

“That’s it? That seems way too easy.”

“Energy is personal, intimate. You can tell a lot about a person from their magic energy. I was just reading yours and I didn’t realize how close of a bond you had with your mother. Your energies are almost exact, except yours is much more weighed down by iron and lack of experience. It’s like it’s locked up in a safe and the key is lost.” She proceeded to play with her hair, brushing it with her long fingers. “So I think this will be a piece of cake for you. But don’t get too excited. You’re going to be terrible at everything else.”

“I’m glad you have such faith in me,” Sibyl grumbled.

“Everyone has that thing they’re good at. Magic isn’t just one thing someone is good at. You can read energies pretty well. Good for you. I bet you have a way of getting people and understanding their humor fast too. But everyone has their things they’re good at. I can mix abilities well, whether it be potions, a bit of healing here and there, or portals. I can’t excel at any of them, though. And besides, you’re an Original.” She looked Sibyl up and down with a wrinkle of the nose. “It’s inherit in you to be good at reading magic energy. Just like it’s inherit to identify and use imagination energy.”

“What’s the difference?”

Rose raised her chin, as if she knew that Sibyl was well aware of imagination energy. But she didn’t bother to ask how or why. Instead she continued to play with her hair and stare off in the distance. “It’s all rather boring, actually. But magic energy is like your magic finger print. It’s unique to all of us and our talents. It’s like your magic DNA. Imagination energy is universal. It’s in everything. Sure it can intertwine with magic energy and certain energies better, but that’s long and boring and I can give you some books to read on that.”

“I think I get it.” Except she didn’t. She’d have to write it in her journal later to take notes and clear her mind. “To the hospital, then?”

Rose gave a thin smile. “Aren’t you cocky.”

****

The moment she saw Celia lying in the bed those thoughts returned. The Aislins could be responsible for this. How can I let myself even think to trust them? She sucked in a sharp breath and took the seat next to her, grabbing her hand and squeezing.

If Celia woke up, even for just a minute, what would she say? Would she tell her to stay away from them? Would she smile to Rose and share fond memories? 

Sibyl sniffed, wiping her nose.

“We don’t have time for tears,” Rose shot out. “Do what you need to help her.”

“Will she wake up?”

She was hesitant. And then, “No. I don’t think so.”

Sibyl stared at Celia’s faced. There were gray streaks in her hair, more wrinkles than before. So iron was killing her by speeding up her age. She closed her eyes. Almost right away their energy came in sync. Rose was right, they had similar energies.

But Celia’s was bigger, or used to be. Now it was shallow, like waves at ankle length. “Concentrate,” Rose warned from the background, almost waking her.  She imagined she was standing in a sea of Celia’s magical energy. Shallow, to her ankles, and unmoving. So what would fix that? What was she looking for?

Like her, Celia’s was a sort of peacock blue. But softer, not erratic. It wasn’t fighting back. Nothing about her energy seemed like energy at all. It was stagnant, still. If she reached down, into it and under it, would she find the darkness, the iron?

So she reached, deeper deeper, and it was there, dark and murky and heavy like sand. But what now? How could she take it from her? It was like she sank in, the iron dragging her down. But she didn’t fight it, didn’t scream or trash or cry. The iron was what she wanted after all. What she needed.

And she sank into endless black.

****

“Sibyl, Sibyl.” Rose was shaking her. Sibyl stirred. What was going on?

“Wake up.” Smack! The slap across her face jolted Sibyl awake. Rubbing the sore spot, she gawked at Rose.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sibyl snapped, her voice cracking.

“I had to wake you up somehow. You passed out.” Rose straightened, wiping her hands on her dress with a pained expression. Rubbing her eyes, Sibyl let out a yawn.

“Passed out?”

“Yes. I swear if Celia found out she’d have my head,” she grumbled, as if it were Sibyl’s fault alone. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired and heavy,” she mumbled. Her mind stirred, the hazy dream of feathers and ball gowns far behind her. “Did it work?”

“Not as well as hoped but yes.” At that point Rose stepped aside, revealing a resting and no longer graying Celia. That had to be a good sign. “She’ll live another day.”

“So we’re doing this again tomorrow?” Sibyl asked, sinking in her seat. Why was her body so heavy? And she didn’t even remember passing out.

“I’ll be doing this again tomorrow. You, on the other hand, will be reading and studying. I’m not taking any chances on you getting hurt again. Not until you build up your strength.” As she spoke there seemed to be lines on her face and circles under her eyes as if her body was anticipating the addition of iron.

“Okay.”

“You’ve lost your cockiness.”

“I’m also tired.” She forced herself up and waved, the room spinning. Rose put a finger on her to help hold her up.

“What should we get for dinner? Besides donuts.” Sibyl asked as she stretched and walked to the car.

“You wouldn't happen to know how to make fried chicken would you?”

Sibyl ignored him, counting her money. “Come. To the grocery store! I don't wanna eat late.”

She stared at his back while they walked to the car from work. His broad shoulders filled his shirt well. But it was his knowledge she was interested in. Maybe now she could get answers from him.

“Reeve,” she started as she got into the passenger's seat. He turned on the radio, bobbing his head back and forth to The Band Perry.

“Hmm?”

“What happened last night? You know, with me?”

Reeve stopped bobbing his head, his jaw clenched.

“What happened to you this morning?”

Oh. So he was gonna play that game. She sighed. “If I tell you will you tell me?” Her answer was silence, so she didn’t bother to tell him. No answers were coming tonight.

They didn't talk the entire ride. Reeve sang to every song on the country station, even Taylor Swift. It was enough to make her smile, but not to distract her from the question he avoided.

“How do you feel about meatloaf?” she asked as they got out of the car and headed for the market. Reeve shuddered and stuck out his tongue.

“Hell no.”

“Chicken? You said something about fried chicken?”

He grinned as they walked in. “Now that sounds good. But we might wanna get something for Luther.”

“Why?”

“He's vegan.”

She stopped and slapped her forehead with a groan. “Seriously? I don't have all the money in the world.”

“Don't get mad at me. I'm not the vegan,” Reeve reminded as he leaned on the front of the cart. “Hey why don't you push me? We can race around the store.”

Sibyl tried to push but it wouldn't budge. “You're too heavy. I think you should be pushing me around. I'm the one paying.”

Reeve dropped from the cart, coming to her side. He wagged his eyebrows. “Don't tempt me.”

Giving him a sideways glance, Sibyl grabbed the cart and moved forward. “Come on, loser.”

“Why are you doing this anyway? I can take care of us.” They turned into the dairy aisle. Sibyl opened the door, the cool air brushing against her skin as she reached for almond milk. “Sibyl?”

“I want to.” And I want answers.

“No, not that.” Reeve lowered his voice as she put the milk in the cart, leaning closer. “He's here.”

He didn't have to say his name. Freddie. Grabbing his jacket, she shrank into Reeve.

“Don't let them see me,” she begged.

“Why?” he asked as he stood straighter and watched them like a predator.

“He's after me. Westley and I heard him talk about me and I'm... I'm scared. Please Reeve, don't let him hurt me,” she begged, searching his eyes. They were brighter than usual with a tint of yellow. Reeve watched, jaw clenched as he gripped the cart handle. One hand reached up, shaking, and held her shoulder. It was too shaky, a strange vibrating energy coming from it.

“They're coming this way,” he whispered.

“What?” she gasped, quivering with fear.

“It's okay. I'm here to protect you, remember? Stay behind me.” She didn't question him, shrinking against his back. He was stiff.

“Reeve? You're the new kid, right?” Freddie called as he came over.

“Yeah.”

Freddie cleared his throat. “Not much for words, eh?”

“Oh I have some words in mind. Like how you're a self centered dick who thinks it's okay to torment innocent girls,” Reeve shot back.

There was silence.

“You're talking about Bix aren't you?” Freddie's voice dropped a few octaves.

“Stay away from her. If you touch her I'll break your arm.”

His friends chuckled. Everyone knew Freddie was a wrestling champ. No one would get in his way. Not unless they wanted to get hurt.

“I'd like to see that. I'd also like to see her. Stop hiding behind him Bix. I know you're there. I can smell you.” Sibyl froze. The last thing she wanted was to face Freddie. Not now. Not ever. “I saw you two walking in.”

Burying her fear and mustering up all her courage, Sibyl stepped beside Reeve. She gasped, covering her mouth. Freddie's face was blue, the wound going from his shoulder to his nose. It distorted his face, almost as bad as frost bite. Did she do that?

“Like what you see eh? Careful Reeve, she might do that to you.” Freddie motioned to his face.

“I doubt it,” Reeve assured him.

Freddie's tongue pushed against his cheeks. “What were you doing? Preparing a romantic dinner? Need some syrup? I bet Sibyl likes that.” He licked his lips, making her shrink. “What? Does your little boy toy not know?” Freddie reached for her when Reeve grabbed his arm.

“I said don't touch her,” Reeve hissed through clenched teeth. Pain washed over Freddie. He writhed under Reeve's quivering touch.

“Reeve,” she breathed. Freddie paled. “Let him go.”

Hesitating, his jaw clenched. She reached for his arm and he faltered. Freddie toppled to the ground and grunted in pain. Sibyl gulped. What did Reeve do to him? He hid his hand, eyes a touch golden. But it wasn't the beautiful liquid gold Westley had. It was all the more unsettling, like stark paint splatters marring a painting.

“Let's go,” she told him in a soft voice, pushing the cart. Freddie's friends dispersed, crowding around Freddie. “What did you do?”

“Made my message clear,” Reeve replied, his breath warm against her cheek. He gripped the cart next to hers. There were holes in his gloves.

“He won't be with you all the time Bix,” Freddie shouted. “I'll get you for that Aislin.”

Reeve flipped the bird at him.

****

When they arrived at the house Reeve marched straight to his room, leaving Sibyl to cook by herself. Josephine set up the table with Westley's help. The sweet homey scent of mashed potatoes, fried chicken, and corn was a blanket over the house. Yet there was an unsettling undertone, something unspoken lurking.

“Dinner was delicious,” Luther complimented when they finished. Now and then he'd cast disdain looks to the chicken.

Sibyl pulled a smile. “Thank you.”

Reeve didn't come for dinner.

“Please pardon me. I'm going to check on Reeve,” Luther said with a bow.

“You're excused,” Josephine replied, picking her mashed potatoes. His smile faded before he marched out. Josephine wiped her mouth. “Let's clean the dishes.”

“Uh... Sure...” She stood and gathered the dishes. There was a bang upstairs, but Josephine continued on as if nothing happened. “Is everything alright?”

“Don't worry about it.” Josephine grabbed Luther's plate and rushed to the kitchen. “Come on. Westley you can give us your dinner when you're done.”

“Okay.”

Sibyl stopped at the foot of the kitchen door. A glass plate dropped, shattering all over the kitchen floor. Josephine groaned and tugged on her hair. She leaned down, mumbling while she picked up the shards.

“Ow!” Her finger bled.

“Run it under water,” Sibyl instructed. Josephine jumped, a yelp escaping her.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough. Now do as I say. I'll get the dust pan and clean up. We need to talk.” Sibyl walked to the closet by the fridge and pulled out the dust pan. Josephine put her finger under running water.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. People drop things. It happens. Unless you're apologizing because you won't tell me what happened.” Sibyl stopped, staring at her hands. “I've never felt anything like it before.” Sibyl let out a deep breath and cleaned up the glass. “I need to know the truth.”

Josephine pulled her finger out of the sink, examining it. She pulled out a napkin and tore it to a smaller piece to tie around her finger.

“It's not easy to explain,” she began as her voice cracked. “Faerie is a complicated place. What happened to you is something we should've seen coming.”

“What about my mom? No one ever tells me anything about her. I'm assuming she was a member. And famous?”

Josephine chuckled. “Oh she was famous alright, but not a member. Celia was never part of the Order.”

“She wasn't?”

“No, she's an ambassador from Faerie.”

Sibyl almost dropped the dustpan. “What?”

Josephine gave her a weak smile then grabbed the plates and started to clean them. Taking this as a sign she should move, Sibyl threw out the glass shards and grabbed a wash cloth to dry the dishes.

“You'd think the heir to one of the largest kingdoms in Faerie would-”

“Heir to one of the largest kingdoms? You've gotta be kidding me. My mother?” She shook, eyes wide with astonishment. Josephine handed her a wet plate to dry.

“Her country is about as powerful as America in Faerie terms. Your mother was royalty and famous for escaping Faerie. She wanted to stay in the human world, marry, and live a normal human life. But she couldn't leave her kingdom so she made a deal with someone I hope you never meet.” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Spider King.”

Sibyl cocked her eyebrow and snorted. “The Spider King? Does he dress like David Bowie in Labyrinth?” Josephine gave her a questioning look to which Sibyl closed her eyes, her lips forming into a straight line. “I'll add it to my list of movies we have to watch. Anyway you're losing me with the whole 'my mother is an heir' thing. My mom is not royalty. You must have the wrong person. She's from New York. She came to Montana because of my dad's work. You've got it all wrong.”

“No, that's all a part of her agreement. And even if you hate the name he's real or was real or... Anyway he made a deal with her. He'd give her a normal human life in exchange for one thing.” Josephine hesitated. “I-It's not easy to say.” Sibyl stopped. “It has to do with me, doesn't it?”

Josephine sucked in her lips. “I've said too much. The council would have my head.”

Sibyl blinked. Her jaw dropped. “What? It's not fair to leave me out of the loop.” Before Josephine could turn back to the sink and the dishes Sibyl grabbed her arm. “Josephine, I need more.”

Josephine bit her lip, avoiding eye contact. “I can't.”

Sibyl's lips formed into a thin line. No. It wasn't fair. “Fine. Maybe Reeve will give me answers.” She put the plate down and marched out.

“Wait!” Josephine called but she ignored her.

Why wouldn't they tell her anything? It was frustrating. She wanted clear answers. Who was the Spider King? What did he have to do with Celia?

As she marched up the steps, she heard a strange noise. It was heavy breathing, but it could have been from an animal. Her hands throbbed and tingled. Sibyl licked her lips as she came to the top of the stairs. The hallway was empty.

“Reeve?” she called.

The breathing stopped. A new noise seeped into the walls. It was low and harsh, a warning to not come closer. Was that a growl? No. It must be her imagination. Sibyl took a curious step. Her voice was small. “Reeve?”

There came another growl, louder, angrier. This wasn't her imagination. Whispers tried to calm the voice, but the growl returned, furious. No, it wasn't furious. There was a sense of fear and resent.

“Sibyl,” Josephine shouted as she came up the stairs. “What are you doing?” There were scratching noises. Something was scraping the walls.

“I want answers...”

Josephine stepped in front of her, turning to the direction Sibyl was looking. She took a step closer, humming a tune. There was a growl in response, then a whistle. Josephine straightened.

“Luther where are you? I need the potion!” The scraping pierced through the hall, like a nail on chalkboard. Josephine covered her ears and ran to a room down the hall. A loud howl came from the room as she entered.

Westley came out, his hair a mess. He came to Sibyl as Luther hurried up the stairs with a drink in hand. Luther ran to the room Josephine was in. The growls continued, and something banged against the walls.

“Stop it!” Josephine screamed.

“What's going on?” Sibyl demanded.

Westley touched her shoulders. “Perhaps it's best if you go downstairs and rest. It's late-”

“What? No. What's going on?” She shoved him away. “Stop keeping things from me. I need to know.”

Without another thought, she ran down the hall. Westley tried to grab her but she slipped free, making it to the room. She was tired of the secrets, tired of being sheltered. It was hard enough to trust them as is, but even worse when they wouldn't share anything with her. Sibyl pulled the door open.

Nothing prepared her for what she saw.

It was a monster, bright like crystal and the shade of the night sky with blazing yellow eyes. It stood with hunched shoulders as the large crystals on its back weighed it down, large crystal hands dragging on the ground. Blood dripped from its sharp fangs. Josephine tackled his waist and tried to hold him down as he screeched, the crystal scratching the walls and floorboards.

Josephine was too small to hold it down and it grabbed her then threw her to the wall. Yet, despite that, it wailed. There was a bloody gash on her arm where it bit her. The hurt in its eyes lasted a second, but it was enough.

“Reeve?”

The creature roared as it kicked Luther away, whipping its arm at Josephine. He pounced for Sibyl. In a split second he was on top of her, pinning her down to the ground. Westley tackled him but they shoved him off.

He growled, blood dripping on her cheek. With his giant hand on her hands, she could feel him. His energy was out of control, shaking with fear and anger. Images swirled in her mind, incoherent and all over the place. There were distant cries.

“Reeve...”

Josephine tackled him off, wrestling with him on the ground. Reeve wiggled around, trying to get back on his feet. Luther and Westley pinned him down, Luther pulling the cork off the drink with his mouth. Sibyl sat up as Josephine locked her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around him.

“Now!” she shouted.

Luther forced the drink down his mouth. He tried to spit it out but Josephine held his mouth shut. They waited, holding tight while it convulsed.

“You can let go now Westley,” Luther told the prince. He got up, walking into the hall and opening a closet. Pulling out a blanket, he brought it to the room and laid it over his body as Josephine peeled off him. When he came to Sibyl's side he helped her up. Her knees wobbled and he pulled her into his warm arms.

It moaned, his body shaking. At first she thought it was angry, but no it was in pain. Tears streamed down its yellow eyes as they darkened. Josephine hummed, stroking his face. A few grunts escaped its closed mouth. No, it wasn't grunting. It was humming.

When the humming wasn't as hoarse and harsh, Josephine sat by his side, humming with him. His paws turned to crystal hands. Then it fell off, shattering to reveal new skin. Bits of crystal stuck out of his skin like a plague that wouldn't leave.

He stopped humming when his face returned, eyes locked on the wound on his sister's arm. Blood dripped from his lips and left a puddle beside him. The blanket covered his naked body. Josephine didn't stop humming.

Crystal poked out of his skin and with a clenched jaw he tried to force it back. His body shook. He concentrated hard on Josephine's wound, cracking. His face turned red. Then his body went limp, his eyes and rising chest the only sign he was still alive.

Sibyl couldn't stop staring. Westley was rubbing her arms but brought her no comfort.

“Did something happen today?” Luther asked as he looked over to her. Her lips formed into a thin line.

Freddie at the grocery store. It must have unleashed this... Whatever this was in him. Reeve was upset and this was the result. Which mean he had to be in control of his emotions or this happened. And this was the person who was supposed to protect her.

“The trickster will fade to a snarl soon enough,” Rose’s chilling words echoed.

“Do you see why we don't tell you everything? You're not ready,” Luther remarked. He ran his hands down his face with a sigh. Unable to erase the image of the crystal beast from her mind, she did what perhaps anyone would do. She ran. She grabbed her things and ran out of there, not looking at them or talking to anyone.

They called her name but she didn’t listen. She just kept going. Kept running. When she stumbled home she fell to her knees. Frost and the wind greeted her as she quivered at the doorway. There was a sigh. Sibyl looked up to find Rose dressed in furs and silk, the essence of class.

“So the warmth faded to a snarl,” Rose commented. A raven sat on her shoulder. “I told you you’d come back to me.”

Luther greeted them at the door when they came back from a quick errand run. “I must confess I wasn't expecting this.”

Sibyl and Westley carried bags full of magazines, snacks, and cleaning equipment. She shrugged.

“I'm gonna educate Westley then we'll clean this place up,” she explained.  Luther raised his eyebrows. His eyes were puffy, but that just made him more attractive. Maybe it was law that people in Faerie and the Grimm Order had to be good looking or something. She couldn't complain.

“We? Your highness is cleaning too?”

“Trust me, I don't want to,” Westley said behind her, “but she's left me no choice.”

“Nope. No choice whatsoever. Now come on, modernization time.”

They walked in, Luther moving out of the way with a stunned expression. Westley and Sibyl sat on the dusty kitchen table. She used a swifer to wipe the dust off then laid out the magazines and snacks. Holding up a box, she grinned.  “These are pop tarts. The best pop tarts are chocolate chip and wild berry. And the best way to eat them is frozen. Got it?”

“Chocolate chip and wild berry. Yes,” Westley repeated. He reached for the box and opened it, pulling out a chocolate chip pop tart.

“Here are some magazines. Magazine's are like little paper books that come out once a month. They're horrible and a plague on the earth but for now we'll use them to teach you about our world. I got all I could find,” she continued, opening a box of Mike & Ikes. “This is candy. There're all types of candy and it's pretty bad for you. But delicious.”

“You know we have candy and magazines in Faerie right?”

“You do?”

“Of course. Just not this colorful,” Westley replied, gesturing to the magazines. “Well you learn something new every day.”

Luther watched, leaning against the wall with an interested expression. There was a twinge of amusement in his eyes as one brow rose with interest. Westley took a few Mike & Ikes then grabbed a magazine and stared at the cover.

“Who is Bradgelina?”

“Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie,” Sibyl answered. “Both are actors. They're a famous couple. People like to mix the names of their favorite couples.”

“Oh okay. What plays have they performed in?”

“They act in movies.”

“Movies?”

“Movies are like plays but on a television screen. I'll show you sometime when Josephine and I have our movie night. I guess you haven't seen The Goonies either.”

From where he stood Luther chuckled. The prince peered back at him. When he smiled Luther had wrinkles by his eyes. “You're doing something very human, Westley,” Luther commented. “Eating junk and reading gossip is as human as it gets.”

“Now we just need to watch hours of Netflix and order pizza. I bet you haven't seen Friday Night Lights or Pushing Daisies.” Sibyl munched on a sour gummy worm. There was a knock on the door. Her eyebrows furrowed as she leaned back. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“Ahhh.” He tapped his temple and moved from the wall. “That must be your tutors.”

She made a face, Westley chuckling.

Luther opened the door. The short council member and a tall women waited. Her hard gaze made Sibyl straighten. With silky black hair in an ornate up do, crystals and snowflakes decorated her and made her appear out of this world. And she was a big fan of smoky eyes. It was like she and Rose had the same makeup artist and made her still.

Luther welcomed them with a warm smile. “Good morning Council Member Xavier and Miss Sonja.”

The woman seemed bored. “Hello Sir Luther.”

He motioned for them to come in, stepping aside. They entered, studying the home with disdain. “Mortals have such horrible taste in decor,” Miss Sonja murmured. With a frown Luther lowered his head.

“We're working on it,” Sibyl piped up. Their attention snapped to her, Miss Sonja's lips forming into a thin line. “We got some cleaning supplies. I'm just teaching Westley about the modern world before we get started.”

“Good Oberon,” Miss Sonja whispered. “You must be Celia's daughter. The resemblance is uncanny. Yet you lack her sophistication and grace.” Sibyl shrank into herself. Yup, she reminded her of Rose alright.

“Can't you see?” Westley countered. “There's something magical about her.” A small smile curved the corner of her lips.

“Prince Westley, forgive my rudeness,” Miss Sonja gasped. She and Xavier bowed, but he didn't notice, reading a magazine and peeking over to Sibyl. “Your mother asked I return you immediately.”

“I don't want to go home.”

The tutors exchanged a glance. Xavier cleared his throat. “But Westley your mother is worried. And your bride-”

Westley slammed down the magazine. “I will not marry that toad and I'm not returning. For Faerie’s sake I'm an adult. Let me make my own decisions – as a prince and a man.”

Xavier and Miss Sonja were dumbstruck. Sibyl smiled. Courage was intoxicating.

“You know it doesn't work that way,” Miss Sonja sputtered.

“Why don't we let Westley settle this for himself? He can make his own decisions. And as for me,” she pulled out her chair and stood. “You're here to tutor me right?”

Xavier frowned. “You're siding with him?”

Sibyl put her hands on her hips. “Everyone deserves agency.”

“What a bold statement,” Miss Sonja snorted.

“Never mind that,” Xavier said. “Miss Sonja will begin her tutoring session first. As you continue to be a part of the Order it's imperative you learn proper etiquette. On the summer solstice a Masquerade Ball is hosted and both courts will want you to present yourself.”

“What? I-”

“There will be no getting out of this,” Luther interrupted. “You're a representative of Earth now.”

Sibyl stared at her clothes. Debutantes didn't wear Barbie graphic tees, right? “I don't look the part.”

With a snap of Miss Sonja's fingers Sibyl was in a beautiful Victorian gown. It was monochromatic, as if it came from a black and white photograph. The hoop skirt brushed against the ground.

“How did you do that?”

“Glamor,” she replied. “Every Fae can use it.”

As it hugged her body – and the corset was pretty tight – a strange sensation ran over her. Glamor was weird but cool. It was much like a whisper of winter's edge. But there was something transparent about it hinting to its fabrication of reality.

“Let me show you what imagination energy can do.” Miss Sonja snapped and they appeared in a gray ballroom. People danced, their expressions hollow but movements swift and precise. Something about the ballroom seemed familiar, as if she had been there before. There was a different feeling here. It wasn't the same as Glamor. While Glamor felt like a mask imagination energy was real. It breathed life in an almost ironic way.

The dancers parted, revealing Miss Sonja, Xavier, Westley, and Luther standing across from her. They were dressed in Victorian attire, dashing and beautiful yet gray. Maybe Faerie was a bit gray too. “Your first lesson will be proper introductions and the Waltz.”

“The Waltz?”

Luther stepped forward and offered a hand, bowing. “I'm Sir Luther, knight of the UnSeelie Court under Clan Bear.” There was a sparkle in his eyes. “The Waltz happens to be my favorite. Would you do me the honor of this dance?”

Sibyl blinked. If she thought he was good looking before he was downright gorgeous in his Victorian suit. If there was ever a man born to dress in Victorian suits, it was Luther. “Y-Yes.”

“Introduce yourself. Curtsy,” Miss Sonja instructed.

Sibyl wobbled into a curtsy, not sure how to move in the dress. “Like this?”

A snap of sharp pain rippled down her back and she yelped. “Graceful! Graceful! It's hard to believe you're Celia's daughter. Address him as you go down and introduce yourself as you come up. Then give him your answer.”

“Is this really necessary?” Sibyl groaned. Another sharp pain rippled down her back. “Okay okay.”

Behind Luther, Westley waved. He put one foot forward and curtsied, pretending to grab his skirt. Oh. Sibyl mimicked him, saying, “Sir Luther, I'm Miss Sibyl Bix. I'd love to dance.”

Luther gave her an encouraging smile. “Well done. We'll work on how to introduce yourself.” He winked. “Now follow my lead.” He put his hand on her waist and held her other. “Keep your shoulders back. Good. Now keep your chin raised and don't look at your feet. Do you know a box step?”

“I was a dancer. It's the dress that's a problem.”

An encouraging smile played at his lips. “You'll get it.”

They danced around, Sibyl counting the steps in her head. It'd been so long since she danced. A few more sharp pains rippled down her back but for the most part she got it.

“Ahh see,” Luther complimented. “You're doing a wonderful job. Your mother would be proud.”

“Thank you.”

She was beaming. Maybe it was the mention of Celia or the fact that a handsome man was dancing with her. Either way it wasn't too bad. Heck she could get used to this.

As they danced, he held his head up high. It was kind of endearing how his ears stuck out a bit and his hair kind of curled. Every now and then she caught glimpses of Miss Sonja watching with critical eyes. Xavier swayed to the music, closing his eyes. There was no sign of Westley but she had to concentrate on her dancing anyway.

“You said you were a dancer?” Luther asked, making small conversation.

“Hmm? Oh yeah. I took ballet for ten years,” she replied, keeping her eyes on him. “Sorry. I keep counting in my head so I'm not being the best dance partner conversation wise.”

“Well to be honest, I think you're the belle of the ball even if you're not conversing,” he whispered, leaning closer and peering past her. She chuckled.

“Oh man, are you serious? With this competition?” She gestured to the hollow figures around her.

“It's hard to believe, I know,” he agreed with a chuckle. His breath was cool like a winter morning. A thrill of pleasure soothed her at his touch. “I think someone wants to take you away from me.”

“Hmm?”

Luther didn't answer. He released her to spin, but Sibyl stumbled and bumped into someone. Embarrassed she turned to Luther. He was gone. Her hands balled into fists at her side and she sucked in her lips. There was a tap on her shoulder. When she turned she found Westley smiling down at her, comfortable in a nice suit but a touch shy.

“Shall we?”

She curtsied, almost stumbling. “Right. Um sure.”

Westley pulled her close and cleared his throat, beginning the dance. For some reason she couldn't look at him. It wasn't that he was bad looking. Far from it. He was a walking dream. Luther had nothing on him, and that was saying something. But something about him just... Ah she couldn't put words to it.

They moved to the song, the pace quickening. Sibyl gulped, then stepped on his shoes.

“Ouch,” Westley winced. A sharp pain rippled down her back.

“Sorry,” she said through grit teeth.

“Stop.” They froze, taking a deep breath. “Perhaps we should dance slower.”

Sibyl frowned. “I'm not cut out for this etiquette and lady-like stuff, am I?”

“You underestimate yourself,” he whispered with a shake of the head. “You can do this. I know a lady when I see one.” He tipped her chin. “And you have the makings of a great lady in you.”

“Lies. All of it.”

He laughed, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world – both worlds. “I'm not lying. Let's try again. Show me that you have the grace and beauty of a swan. Or like your mother. Or whatever is graceful on Earth. I'll spin you this time.”

“I'm not ready for a spin.”

“Let's try.” And he let her go for the spin.

She couldn't keep her head straight. The room swirled. Losing track of her feet, Sibyl tripped, pulling Westley down with her. The impact knocked the wind out of her and Westley bumped against her. The room spun until she could make out the details of the roof. Cherubs frowned at her. Westley propped himself up on his elbow.

Sibyl covered her face, waiting for his reprimand. Nothing happened. She peeked through one eye. His face was bright red as he chortled and her jaw dropped. “You think this is funny?”

“Don't you?” And he cracked, exploding with laughter. “I've never had this much fun at a ball.”

Sibyl put her hands on her face, hiding her red cheeks as she laughed. “That's it, no more spinning. Or falling.”

“Brilliant idea.” Westley sat up. The ghostly figures parted as Miss Sonja stormed over, eyes wide and appalled. The prince stood and coughed. “Miss Sonja.” He acknowledged her with a slight bow. “Sibyl,” he whispered to the laughing girl. “Sibyl get up.”

“I can't,” she laughed. “Why are you whispering – Ow!” She turned to her side, her back aching from another sharp ripple of pain.

“Miss Sibyl! We can see your unmentionables,” Miss Sonja scolded. Westley grabbed Sibyl's hand and helped pull her up, her hair falling in her face. “You have the grace of a duck. You'll never be ready for the Masquerade.” Miss Sonja rubbed her eyes. “This is a disgrace.”

“I - Ow!”

“Silence,” Miss Sonja hissed, dropping her hands to her sides. “I've never had such an embarrassment of a student. Disgraceful! I can't do it Xavier. I'm done.” Xavier walked to them, disdain marring his features. “Now Miss Sonja-”

“I'm done Xavier. She'll never learn. She'll never have what it takes. Celia made a big mistake in raising this girl on Earth surrounded by hicks,” Miss Sonja bellowed. Westley squeezed Sibyl's shoulder but she stepped forward.

“My mom did the best she could to raise me,” she snapped. “And if this is the world she grew up with then it's my world too. But don't you dare talk about her like that. I don't care what you think about me but you better keep your mouth shut when it comes to her.”

Miss Sonja crossed her arms, glaring down at her. Sibyl held her ground, her hands clenched into fists at her side.

“You have no idea what kind of world you’re throwing yourself into, child. And you’ll never make it or impress anyone.”

“Well not if I give up I won’t,” Sibyl retorted. “I messed up. It’s my first time. Don’t expect me to be an expert right away. But don’t count on my failure so soon either.”

Tapping her chin, the tall woman considered her words. Her eyes flickered to Xavier. He sniffed, his lips forming into a thin line.

“Now that's what I expect from the daughter of Celia,” she told him. Westley raked his hands though his hair.

“I told you, she has it in her.”

****

Sibyl fell on the couch. If she thought Miss Sonja was bad, Xavier was worse. She was supposed to create these things called power pulses from her hands and every time she failed – which was most of the time – he'd shock her. She did manage to freeze a few things when she got upset, but that didn't impress Xavier.

When Reeve and Josephine arrived Sibyl laid sprawled across the couch and Westley was eating gummy worms and reading magazines.

“How was your... Day?” Josephine asked.

“Just leave me alone to die,” Sibyl whined into a pillow. She lifted her head, bags under her eyes and her hair a frizzy mess. “Who's idea was it to let those two tutor me?”

Josephine turned to Westley while Reeve put his stuff down by the coat rack. “Was it that bad?”

“Horrible.”

“You had the etiquette lesson didn't you?” Josephine frowned. “Miss Sonja's well known in Faerie. She plans events for both courts, especially the UnSeelie court.”

“What are these courts anyway?”

“Seelie and UnSeelie,” Reeve said, flexing his arms as he came to sit beside her. “Seelie is the summer court and UnSeelie is the winter court. But they've been disbanded and are now a bunch of countries. Like here.” So it was just as Rose said, and just what she feared.

“Is everyone in the UnSeelie court a butch like Miss Sonja?”

“If so then you're a butch. And Luther's a butch. What's a butch anyway?” Reeve scratched behind his ear and slouched on the couch.

“I'm UnSeelie?”

“How else can you walk around in the middle of February in that?” Reeve pointed to her shorts. “Which I approve of by the way.”

She hit his shoulder but they smiled. “Okay. UnSeelie. I know what to research now.”

“Speaking of which we have some books to give you on Faerie. Remind me later. Don't you have somewhere to be?” Josephine asked as she sat on the dusty arm chair and put down her things. Sibyl groaned.

“Work! I hate my life.”

“Did I tell you I got a job at the antique store too?”

“Beautiful. Now pick me up and take me.”

“You know I can do that. I'm serious.”

She considered this for a moment, then leaned on his lap. “Okay. Carry me away. Then let me sleep.”

“Carry you?” Westley asked, raising his head from the magazine. His eyes locked on Sibyl resting on Reeve's lap.

Reeve stood and pulled her up with him. Sibyl toppled into him, groaning at her heavy muscles.

“They worked you to the bone, eh?” He pulled her forward so she stood in front of him. Sibyl blew through her lips, limp in his strong hold. “Well come on. You can sleep in the car.”

“Get some food for dinner,” Josephine called.

“I vote donuts,” Sibyl mumbled.

“I second that notion.” Josephine raised her hand to vote.

“Okay princess. Come on.” Reeve instructed as he helped her out the door.

“I came in with a dooooonut hoooole. I just wanted to eeeaaaaaat them aaaaall,” Sibyl sang into the cold night.

She was still consumed with warmth when she woke up. In her anxiety driven slumber she didn’t dream. It was just calm darkness. But maybe that was even more unsettling. Stirring, she tugged on something. Someone groaned in response, softening. Her fingers relaxed against the fabric she pulled, falling against warm skin and a heartbeat.

When she breathed in the scent of carnations greeted her, followed with a musky smell. She relaxed against the planes of a strong body, arms holding her close. Sibyl curled into a ball, nuzzling into their chest.

She stopped, her eyes wide open.

With a scream Sibyl jumped, pushing them off the small creaking bed. The person woke with a start, falling to the ground with a loud thud and a puff of smoke. Sibyl curled in a ball against the wall. What did she just do? Where was she? How did she end up in a bed with someone?

Sitting up, she put her hand on her heart, looking around the room of dusty furniture and molding walls. This was the Aislin’s place. Right. She was there. She came after the whole Rose confrontation thing. Okay. Sure. Yeah.

Gulping, Sibyl peered over the bed to the ground. No one was there. At least, no person. It was just a mess of blankets and clothes. Something sneezed, small and squeaky. She stilled, her shoulders up to her ears as it came out from under the bed.

A bird. A little bird squeaked up at her.

Sibyl stared at the bird. The bird stared back.

Slowly, she went back to the wall, staring into space. It was just her imagination then. She wasn’t sleeping in a bed with a man. It sure as hell wasn’t comfortable and warm and sweet. Nope. None of that was real. She was just lost in a hazy dream. Or it was sleep deprivation. Web MD would have the answer. Or Google.

What the hell happened to her life?

She took a deep breath. Where was her journal again? The bird kept squeaking, attempting to quack or something. Who knew. She was too weirded out to even look at the thing. What was a bird doing there in the first place? Was there a nest somewhere in here? Maybe she was the one going crazy. That would be a pretty irony. Sibyl let out a laugh at that, then clamped her mouth shut.

Out of no where the bird appeared and her eyes widened. Its wings rose, rising over her head and making her cower. Yup, she was going crazy alright. She didn’t even scream, gaping as the gray bird towered over her.

Then, a feather fell. And another and another, revealing hands. A strange energy radiated in the room as the giant bird fell into a mess of feathers, leaving behind a familiar face with golden eyes and soft cheekbones.

Yes, crazy indeed.

“Westley? Is that… Is that you? Were you the duck?” How she found her voice was beyond her, but her head was spinning.

“Swan.”

“Right. Swan.” She just stared at him. “Did we…”

“You wouldn’t let me go. I carried you hear after you collapsed and you whimpered every time I tried to let you go,” he explained. Westley blinked. “We just slept. Nothing happened Miss Sibyl. I wouldn’t compromise your honor like that.”

She gave a small nod, still staring with her mouth agape. “Right. Okay. Yeah.” It was then something odd occurred to her, and she almost screamed as her face burned. “Westley!”

“What? What is it?”

“You’re naked,” Sibyl screamed, covering her face. “Why are you naked?”

Westley let out a yelp. The door opened. “Something wrong-”

Reeve was interrupted by Westley’s shouts for him to shut the door, to which he closed the door and called, “Why are you naked?”

“It was the transformation,” Westley called, fumbling on the ground with the blankets. “You surprised me when you pushed me off. Did you see anything?”

“No!” At this point she was certain all of her was as red as her hair. “Just put on your clothes.”

“I’m trying!”

“Try faster,” she cried.

Fumbling with his clothes and muttering under his breath, Westley got dressed while Reeve kept asking what was going on inside. “Your highness need I remind you of your engagement and that she’s underage-”

“Oh my gosh Reeve shut up you’re not helping,” Sibyl shouted.

“I would never compromise her virtue,” Westley shouted at the same time.  “You’d do best to watch your tongue.”

Reeve opened the door and lingered. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt? Sibyl what’s going on here? I heard you scream and then I see him here naked with you-”

“It was an accident,” Sibyl assured, dropping her hands. And holy mother of Zeus Westley was shirtless. That should have been a crime, or law that he stayed that way all the time. It was hard to decide in that moment. “This is so embarrassing.” She fell over on the bed, face down. “My life is a disaster.”

“Well on the bright side you got to see the royal jewels. No one else has that privilege,” Reeve tried. She pointed the finger at him.

“Do I have permission to murder him? That’s insulting,” Westley asked, pulling on his shirt.

“No killing. And no jokes, Reeve,” Sibyl said into the bed. “Are you all clothed Westley?”

“I am. Thank you.”

Sibyl rose, looking between the two. Reeve was much more lithe and thin next to the toned Westley. If it wasn’t for the shock factor and sleep deprivation she might have found this to be funny. Instead she was mortified, not able to look either in the eyes.

“Can I die now?”

“No, school’s starting soon. Also we have bacon and eggs downstairs, courtesy of yours truly by the way. Think about that before you let anyone kill me,” Reeve replied. “What happened?”

“I pushed him off the bed and he turned into a duck-”

“Swan.”

“And then he turned human again but the transformation-”

“Left him without clothes. Shape shifting does that,” Reeve finished. He stared at the floor. “That explains the feathers. Well this was thoroughly awkward. What do you say we eat breakfast and go to school.”

“Do I get to go?” Westley asked, wide eyed and full of wonder.

“I’m not going.”

“What?” both asked in unison, turning to each other then to Sibyl.

“Why not?” Reeve asked.

“I’m suspended. And now I’m homeless. And my life is a disaster,” Sibyl said as she stared into space.

“Can we act like what just happened never happened?” Westley asked, looking between the two.

“You think I want to remember what I saw?” Reeve shuddered. “Fine then we’ll stay here with you.”

“No you should go,” she blurted out.

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

To be honest, she had no idea. But maybe she just needed some alone time. This was all happening so fast and it was too much. Sibyl took a deep breath.  “Go. I’ll be fine here with Luther and Westley. Besides I… I think I need some me time.”

Reeve’s gaze lingered on her as he put his hands on his hips and sucked in his lips. “Alright. I’ll bring up your breakfast and leave you alone. Your stuff is by the nightstand. And if you need anything-”

“I know, Reeve. I know.” She rubbed her eyes.

He paused, lingering a moment. “What happened? Did your aunt hurt you?” Sighing, she dropped her hands to her lap. “I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay? Just please leave me alone. Both of you. Please?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Reeve nodded, nudging Westley then turning to leave. “Get some rest,” he called before leaving. Her gaze flickered to the door before it close, Westley’s golden eyes meeting hers.

Then the door closed, leaving her alone. And again, she shivered.

****

Reeve never came to bring her her breakfast, so after writing in her journal she made her way downstairs. The place was still dirty and dusty. With a sigh, Sibyl made her way to the kitchen, Westley was napping on the couch, making her pause. He must have been tired and she just shoved him off.

Rushing off, Sibyl walked to the kitchen and was greeted by the scent of breakfast. Reeve went all out, making eggs, bacon, and toast. He even made chocolate milk. And he didn’t bother to bring it to her like he said he would.

She grabbed herself a plate and sat in the table, wiping off some of the dust.  “This place needs a major cleaning,” she said under her breath, putting her eggs onto the bread to make a sandwich.

There was a yawn and groan as Westley walked into the kitchen, stretching. She tried not to look at his rising shirt, but could anyone blame her? Sibyl grabbed her milk and gulped it down.

“And you say you don’t have a chef,” Westley mumbled sleepily, giving her a lazy smile. “How is it?”

Sibyl lowered her empty cup and gulped. “Good. Good. Nice and good.”

Westley stopped. “Are you alright.”

“I’m fine. Peachy. Dandy, even.” Sibyl stared down at her plate and started eating. Avoiding eye contact and trying to wipe the image of his chiseled body while stuffing herself was bound to help somehow. But trying to wipe away that image just reminded her she didn’t want to wipe it away. Or forget his scent and warmth.

“If you say so.” Westley swooped down and grabbed her bacon. Sibyl froze, turning to him.

“Did you just grab my bacon?” Standing, the chair fell behind her. Westley grinned and took a bite. Then he stopped, staring down at the bacon with wide eyes.

“This is amazing,” he proclaimed. When he reached for more she grabbed the plate.

“Oh no you don’t. This is mine. Don’t steal from a lady,” Sibyl warned, turning away to walk out of the kitchen. But there was a little touch of warmth in her chest.

Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. “You’re not a lady,” he whispered, making her bite her lip before he snatched her bacon and ran off.

“Hey,” Sibyl shouted. “No fair. Get back here.”

“It’s mine,” Westley sang as he ran to the living room.

When she caught up to him he held it up above her, just barely out of reach. “Oh that’s just cruel,” she said. Dropping her arms to her side, an idea crossed her mind. “Fine. I’ll just get the rest.”

His smile dropped. “The rest?”

“There’s a whole bunch in the kitchen and now it’s all mine.” Sibyl winked as she turned to get it. He grabbed his arm, her opening. Turning, Sibyl snatched the bacon from his lowered hands and shoved them in her mouth then booked it to the kitchen.

“Now you’re the one who’s cruel,” Westley called, hurrying after. But she just went back to her table and sat, grabbing her smile as he ran in and skidded to a stop. Westley turned to her, his brows furrowed. “No more?”

Sibyl just smiled, taking a bite of her sandwich. With a slight laugh, Westley ran his hands through his hair, making his way to her and plopping down beside her. “How are you feeling, Miss Sibyl?”

Again she smiled, half because her mouth was full. There was a certain little glow in his eyes and he chuckled, looking away in an almost shy manner. When she gulped, she lowered the sandwich. “There should be some bacon left over for you, you know.”

“I know. I’m not that hungry though. And I don’t want to be here. Don’t you want to leave this place? Go somewhere? I’ve never been to the Otherside before. I want to experience it. Live it. Why stay here? Why don’t we go?”

Just go. Like that. What an odd mentality. Leaving and doing things required planning. It required saving and working things out. Besides, there was nothing fun to do here and she’d never been out of Montana. Sibyl licked her lips. “It’s not that simple, Westley.”

“Why not? Who says it can’t be? Who put a limit on life?” he asked.

What was it like to think that way, to see life without limits? It tickled her fancy, and she let herself believe she could just leave, get out of there forever. “Well for one you know nothing about this world. We need to update you.”

“Then let’s do that today. Educate me on Earth.” His arms were folded on the table, his feet tapping with excitement. It was almost sad how beautiful he was. A guy with looks like Westley could have been a model, living the high life. And he could go anywhere living a life like that. Westley had no roots holding him anywhere her on Earth.

“Okay,” she said, staring at her sandwich. “After breakfast I’ll get stuff. Like magazines and snacks and you can read while I clean.”

His spirits dropped. “Read and clean?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“That’s just so… gray.”

I have not forgotten you. I just started a new full time job AND I’m working a lot of overtime. Hopefully next week I can get back to posting for you guys. So so sorry! I barely even have time to write or sketch. I get like two hours to do anything and everything outside of work. But it’s way good cause I’ve been unemployed for months.

When they returned to Montana it was almost one in the morning and well into the negatives. Sibyl dragged herself home, sneaking in.

“Are you sure you won’t get caught? I can come with and make sure,” Reeve offered in a whisper.

“I don’t think my aunt will respond well to me sneaking in with a guy,” Sibyl retorted, waving him off. “But I do want answers. Reeve, do you have any idea what happened?”

His lips formed a straight line and he turned to leave. Sibyl groaned. So much for that. No one would give her answers. What was the point of all this if no one would talk to her?

Sibyl laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling. The events of the day wouldn’t leave her. This was huge. She could feel it. But they wouldn’t even look her in the eyes.

Who was that she saw?

****

Sibyl woke up to Rose sitting on her bed and staring at her. Rubbing her eyes, Sibyl groaned and tried to pull her blankets over her. “Go away,” she grumbled.

“We need to talk,” Rose replied, unmoving.

“I’m sleepy.”

“Of course you are. It’s five in the morning.”

Sibyl groaned.

“Get up. We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what? It’s five in the morning. I don’t want to get up. I want blissful sleep,” Sibyl replied. Not that she slept all that well. She kept dreaming that she was surrounded by butterflies until they all dropped dead. Then it was all dark and she woke up in a hot sweat. Rose just woke her from a happy dream of endless vintage dresses and a hot prince waiting for her with a plate of bacon.

“Get up or I’ll make you get up,” Rose said, getting up and walking out of the room.

Once she was gone Sibyl sighed and snuggled into her soft warm bed. Peace and quiet was hers. And she didn’t have to go to school so she could sleep the day away then find her journal and write some notes and-

Splash!

Sibyl gasped at the sudden onslaught of water dumped on her. She sat up with a start, Rose staring down at her with irritation marring her elegance. “What was that for?” Sibyl shouted. “It’s five in the morning.”

“Get changed and meet me in the backyard,” was all Rose said. “Don’t keep me waiting or there will be more.”

Sibyl sputtered, wiping the water from her face. “What? Are you insane?”

In response Rose slammed the door behind her. For a few minutes she just sat there with her jaw dropped. Rose was insane. What on earth did she have to tell Sibyl this early in the morning? Letting out a scream, Sibyl got up and undressed. She pulled on a graphic tee, high waist shorts, and white tights.  Grabbing her boots, jacket, and scarf she made her way downstairs and out the backyard.

Rose stood in the snow wearing a long muslin robe. Her makeup and hair were impeccable, her chin raised as she watched Sibyl shuffle over to her. Under her breath she grumbled, the sun peaking over the mountains. It had to still be in the negatives.

“You don’t need those,” Rose called.

“What?”

“The scarf and jacket. You don’t need them.”

Sibyl hesitated. A part of her knew it, but it seemed so natural. Gulping, Sibyl pulled off her feather patterned scarf and purple jacket, dropping them to the ground. She didn’t shiver in her tee.

Likewise, Rose untied her robe and let it drop. The wind blew it in an elegant gesture that made Sibyl seem clumsy. Underneath she wore nothing but a black slip, making her way to Sibyl in her bare feet.

“Have you noticed ravens following you around?”

“A little,” Sibyl confessed in a small voice.

Ravens were surrounding them then, sitting on the fence, the tree, the roof. Rose held up a hand, a raven flying to it. “Ravens are the masters of death, soldiers of darkness. A bit like you.”

Her heart plummeted. No. She didn’t want to be darkness. Not like that man who whispered her name. Not like the thing that killed those spiders. Rose lowered her hand and the raven flew back to its spot.

“I’ve been sent to you to prepare you.”

“Prepare me for what?”

“For change. We’re going to change everything,” she explained, a genuine smile on her face. “Together we’re going to make things the way they should be. The soldiers will run free once more and frost will have its reign.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Sibyl demanded. “And what makes you think I want any part in any of this?”

“Don’t tell me it’s not calling to you. If it hasn’t already it will. That power. It’s impossible to resist, a wonderful drug.”

“Rose are you insane? Why are you telling me this? And now?” she shouted. “I don’t want any part of this.” Turning to leave, she huffed at the lost sleep over this ridiculousness. And the way it made her wonder.

“You did something. I can feel it,” Rose called, making her stop. Sibyl’s hands balled into fists. “Why else were you gone so late?”

“Boys?” Sibyl tried, but even she was unconvinced.

“Stop making jokes, child. There’s a change in the winds. I could sense something was coming since I met you, but there’s been a shift. The ravens have been speaking to me.”

There were two thoughts running through her mind. The first was that Rose might have been crazy. Full on crazy. And the other, the one tugging at her wonder, was that she was a part of Faerie and all of this madness. And the ravens were too.

Rose made her way to her, and Sibyl wished she had the drive to leave, walk away and pretend this never happened. Act like it was all some dumb dream. Or that it was a dream. But the winds kiss assured her it was no dream. This was her reality.

“Look at me, Sibyl,” Rose demanded through grit teeth. Despite herself, and the looming fear in the pit of her stomach, she did.

When they were face to face Rose towered over her, her thin frame model like but not making her seem frail at all. Maybe it was the way she held herself. Sibyl forced herself not to rub her arms or raise her shoulders. No, she looked her straight in the eyes. For the first time there was a spark in them, something ignited within her.

“You’ve awakened something within you. But if you don’t know how to control it it can destroy you,” Rose warned. She said it softly, like a coo or a sweet little lullaby.

“I don’t know what you’re talking-”

Rose grabbed her face, her long nails digging into her skin and making her flinch. Her grip was strong as stone and she sneered as she brought her face close to Sibyl’s. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve noticed things, haven’t you? Mortals can’t stand here like we can. They can’t create frost with one touch, and they can’t awaken old kings.” Her face tilted, a knowing look in her dark eyes.  “Mortals aren’t like us Sibyl. And you have no idea what I or you are capable of.”

“What are you?” Sibyl said through grit teeth, struggling to free herself of Rose’s grip.

“They call us the UnSeelie. But we go by many names,” Rose answered. “And you’re one of us. I can help you Sibyl. I can make you so much stronger.”

Sibyl managed to free herself of Rose’s grasp. Her face was sore but she wouldn’t show it, her breaths heavy. So she was a part of all this. “You’re in the Order.”

Rose snarled. “The Order is a disgrace to our kind. How do you know about it?”

But when she took a step forward Sibyl took a step back. “Don’t come near me. I don’t trust you.”

This made her pause, her brows raised in subtle surprise. Rose licked her lips, contemplative before she spoke. “So you trust your little friends over your own blood? Is that how it is?”

“Celia’s never mentioned you once so as far as I’m concerned you’re nothing to me.”

Rose smiled, beautiful but dark. “Did she ever mentioned Faerie before?”

No. Not once. “I still don’t trust you.”

“Okay.” She crossed her arms, raising her chin to look down at Sibyl. “We’ll play your little game then. You’ll turn around soon enough.”

Sibyl scoffed. “I doubt it.”

“I’m not the enemy. You think that Seelie scum is looking out for you? Just you wait. Soon they’ll show their true colors and you’ll find the beast within. They aren’t all bright and beautiful, child,” Rose retorted, smug. “It’s seems so simple right? Of course the bright summer court is right. Of course they’re true and good and all things pure. Don’t let the beauty and warmth trick you, Sibyl. You’re a creature of ice and darkness and you’ll find your way back no matter how much flowers fool you.”

Her hands balled into fists at her side and she stood her ground. So these were her true colors. But she had her own true colors and they were bright and beautiful like butterflies. Not this. Never this.

“I’ve made my choice.”

“So you say, but you’ll come running back to me,” Rose assured her. “Trust me. The tricksters smile will fade to a snarl soon enough.”

The wind blew by with snow and Rose was gone. The unkindness of Ravens followed the wind, and Sibyl was left with stillness in her heart.

****

Frantic, Sibyl grabbed her Spider man duffel bag and stuffed it with clothes. Her breathing was uneven and her hands were shaking. She crawled on her hands and feet, grabbing her iron tablets and shoving them in her mouth. Stumbling down the stairs, she crashed against the wall and quivered as she rushed to the kitchen. Sibyl grabbed Pop tarts from the freezer and shoved them in her mouth, almost choking and falling to the ground. But she forced herself to eat.

If Rose came back there was bound to be trouble. So she had to leave. Get out of here. But where to?

She ran back up to her room, almost tripping over her own feet, then stuffed more clothes and things into her bag. She grabbed her scarf and jacket from outside, stopping at a raven that watched her. If it was working with Rose then she had to get out of there.

Back in the house, she grabbed her car keys and stopped at the entrance. No, it wasn’t worth staying. Not if she came back. Rose wouldn’t come near the Aislins. Of that she was sure.

She didn’t even get into her car, no time to get rid of the frost. Instead she ran as fast as she could to their house and banged on their front door. “Open up,” Sibyl cried. “Please!”

The door opened and she almost fell in, warm arms grabbing her.

“Miss Sibyl?” Westley’s lilting voice stirred in her mind, but the world was swirling. It was too early and her body was heavy. This was too much, too much. “What’s going on?”

“Sibyl?”

Warm arms pulled her and engulfed her in warmth as she was carried bridal style up the stairs. “It’s okay,” Westley whispered to her. She just stirred, holding on to him and hoping he wouldn’t let her go.

“Maybe you shouldn't tell anyone your name,” Josephine cautioned as they sat in the waiting room.

“You don't say,” Sibyl replied.

The secretary couldn't stop staring. She dropped her files and bumped into her desk. Stepping back, she knocked over a vase Reeve caught midair. He handed it back to her shaky hands with a charismatic grin. Josephine’s stern glare before was starting to make sense.

“Pardon me,” she muttered, her cheeks pink.

“No problem. Just give me a heads up if you decide to toss over any more,” Reeve replied with a smile that showed off his dimples.

She laughed, but it turned uneasy as her eyes made their way to Sibyl. It was like she was going to throw up. Maybe Celia was a mermaid. Or some evil overlord of supreme awesomeness. Sibyl just flashed the secretary a bright smile, making her pale and scurry away.

“You’re cruel,” Reeve whispered to her.

“Come on, it’s kind of fun,” Sibyl retorted. “I’m sorry I ruined your heroic moment. Next time I’ll be a better wing woman.”

“Why thank you noble steed.” He patted her shoulder and Josephine chortled, clearing her throat to cover it up.

“Don’t panic but I think Josephine has a funny bone in her after all,” Sibyl fake-whispered to Reeve.

“I have a funny bone. See?” Josephine held up her arm to point to her humerus.

Before they could even think up a response the door to the office opened. “Did you get those files I asked for?” asked a man as he entered. Then he stopped at the doorway, eyes locked on Sibyl who managed another bright smile. He was short, not even reaching her waist with pointed ears and a more yellowish complexion. “Scratch that. Cancel all appointments today.”

“Y-yes,” the secretary replied. She gave Sibyl an awkward bow before scurrying out.

“You must be Celia's daughter,” the small man said, leaning against the table and crossing his legs.

“And you must be Xavier.”

“Indeed I am. It's a pleasure to meet you...” He held out his hand, gloved. It was a white glove, the kind seen in movies on gentlemen wearing tuxedos. Fitting too since he was in a Victorian suit. Okay if all the men in Faerie were Westley-good looking and wore tuxedos it couldn’t be that bad.

“Sibyl,” she finished. When she shook his hand hers tingled.

“Sibyl. I like that name. Are these your guardians?”

“Yes,” Reeve replied as he stood, his fist on his heart. “We're knights of the Seelie Court under the Rose Clan.”

What did that mean anyway?

Xavier ushered them to his office. The seats were low, making their legs stick out. Sibyl sat between Josephine and Reeve, shrinking into her seat.

“How are you feeling Miss Bix?” He began as she sat on his seat. Everything about his office was tiny save a painting behind him of some sort of royal guy. He glared down, frowning at her as his icy blue eyes made her shiver. The painting almost seemed real, like he was in the room bored and unimpressed.

“Um... Okay,” she mumbled, returning her gaze to Xavier and his pleasant grin.  “I was wondering if you knew anything about my mom.”

Xavier stopped. His jaw locked and his body went rigid. As he sat up straight he cleared his throat “That's something you'll have to speak to the council about. I'm not authorized to share information we have-”

“Aren't you a part of the council? All I want is to know what’s going on and why. The rest of what you're going to tell me like whatever powers I have doesn't interest me. Tell me about Celia,” Sibyl begged.

Xavier's mouth opened, but he didn't speak. Her lower lip quivered and her cheeks were rosy red. Big brown eyes pleaded with him.

“Miss Bix,” he began. “I apologize, but you're not ready. There is still much you have to understand. When I feel you're faithful to the Order-” She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. “When I feel you're faithful to the Grimm Order, then I'll share what information we have regarding your mother.”

Sibyl narrowed her eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything.”

Xavier held her gaze. He was stern, not here to play jokes. And neither was she.

“Deal.” A rush ran over her, confirming it. “Now what?”

****

“Everything in Faerie is run by one thing,” Xavier explained as they walked down a hall, Sibyl and the Aislins following.

“Imagination,” Reeve said.

“Correct. Imagination energy. It's the core of everything Faerie is made up of. Only certain class types can harness Imagination though.”

“What's a class type?” Sibyl asked, skipping ahead to walk beside him.

“Your class type depends on your ancestry. If the Fae blood within you comes from a siren, mermaid, selkie, or nymph you'll be in the Beta class. And so on and so forth.”

“Alright but how can imagination be energy? That doesn't make sense.” They turned a corner.

“It goes through a cycle just like CO2 and everything else in the world. The Imagination Cycle.”

“You can have imagination without creativity but you can't have creativity without imagination,” Sibyl repeated.

“Very good,” Xavier beamed. “Once those two elements are put together you get stories. Those stories fuel imagination which fuels Faerie. With Faerie thriving imagination thrives and more stories, art, movies, music – everything thrives. And when those thrive, the cycle repeats.”

Everything in Faerie was made up of the power of imagination. That gave power to things in every day life on Earth which continued the cycle. She was speechless. What could anyone say to that? Where was her journal?

“The type of Fae who can use imagination energy are the Originals. The Faeries. Like those in folk lore, but they no longer exist the way Earth knows them. They are the beginning and end of imagination,” Xavier explained. “So it's the rarest class type to find one with the Originals. Zeta.”

“Okay I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around this. How long has Faerie and Earth been connected?” Sibyl asked, rubbing her temples.

“Since the beginning of time. Try not to think about it too much. You’ll hurt your brain.” They turned another corner. Sibyl didn't bother to ask where they were or where they were headed. Everything was flooding in and it was going to give her a headache. Again, where was her journal?

There were two possibilities here – everything they said was one elaborate lie made up by people very bored with their lives or it was all true. It was hard to admit she was leaning towards the latter. It was even scarier to admit it sparked something within her.

“So what about me being a Key Master?”

“All Key Masters have a little bit of Original blood in them. That's why they can open gates. They can concentrate the imagination energy to connect both worlds. That's how you opened the gate before. Now most Key Masters have more of another class type in them.” Sibyl stared down at her hands.  Concentrated energy? Nothing about that moment seemed concentrated or like she was controlling energy. Is that why her hands pulsed and energy rippled through her? Was that imagination energy?

“So I'm a Zeta?”

“Yes,” Reeve answered behind her.

“We don't know that for sure. Again, Key Masters have a little of Zeta, but most have another Fae class dominating their abilities. Most can only open gates. Hence why we make everyone take a test.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Reeve interrupted, stepping forward. “What's the point in making her take the test. I could tell you just by looking at her she's a Zeta. She's got Original written all over her,” Reeve countered, coming to Xavier's other side. “And she's tired. Aren't you tired Sibyl?”

“Yeah...”

“See?” They arrived at two large doors. Reeve stepped in front of them, blocking their way. “Just let her take the Zeta test. I promise you she'll pass. Trust me. She's a Zeta.”

Three pairs of eyes were on Sibyl, Xavier rubbing his chin. Licking her lips as her shoulders rose, Sibyl looked between the two. “Is... That a bad thing? Being a Zeta?”

“Of course not, sugar. We haven't had one in the Order for some time. Originals don't like to mix,” Josephine replied, coming to her side and touching her shoulder. She gave her a reassuring smile. “But I think Reeve's right. Let her take the Zeta test.”

Xavier dropped his hand to his side with a sigh. “Fine. I was looking forward to seeing how she handled each test. Reeve, would you do the honors?” With a bow, he opened the doors. The room was round with little glass cases against the walls. There was a little plaque under each case. Getting a closer look, they named each class and the type of Fae associated with them underneath.

“Take a look around,” Xavier encouraged. “There's no need to rush and I'm sure you're curious.”

Reeve stayed by her side. They stopped at one glass case with three items: a lizard tail, green liquid, and butter.

“What test is this?”

“Forgers can take those three items and turn it into a potion,” Reeve explained. 

“If I can remember right those three items combined make one of the deadliest potions in Faerie.” She pointed to the butter.

“A stick of butter?”

“Too much salt is bad for you.”

“Says the Southerner,” she countered. Sibyl blew through her lips and turned to Xavier. There was no use in looking in each case. If Reeve was right then she was a Zeta. Which meant she was descended from an Original, whatever that meant. “Well? What's the Zeta test? Do I have to make any potions? Do we need a blood test? What?”

If they were so sure why test her? Maybe Celia was an Original. But she'd have to have been around since the beginning of time. Could her mom be that old? No. No way. That was impossible to fathom.

“Right here, Miss Sibyl. Come to this case.” Xavier motioned to one at the end. Reeve gave her a nod, his eyes vivid.

Gulping, she walked to the case. There were three in the Zeta class. One was a case with barren trees, dead grass, and a small puddle. The other was a frozen puddle with a ring inside. But it was the third that caught her attention.

Butterflies roamed around. Some were more colorful than all the flowers she'd seen in her life. Others were white and icy blue. They danced around in a magical array of colors, a ballet of hypnotic power. Her breath left her.

“Once upon a time there was a princess of ice who loved butterflies,” Josephine said behind her. “One day she made a deal with the butterflies. If they visited her in her cold castle she'd protect them.”

“And thus the ice butterflies were born,” Xavier finished. She stared, enchanted. Had she ever seen so many butterflies in her life? “Forever connected to the wintry cold.”

“They're beautiful,” she breathed.

Ice butterflies. Wow.

“Don't hold back.” Xavier's voice was soft, encouraging. “They call to you. They can feel you. Talk to them.”

She was going to tell him that was ridiculous. Butterflies can't communicate with people. They can't talk. But instead Sibyl placed her hand on the glass, closing her eyes. Because it felt right. Because it was all she could think to do. Because she wanted to be like them.

Nothing.

There was no magical connection, no eye opening moment. The heavens didn’t open and bestow her with knowledge from on high. She didn’t find herself consumed with endless power. If there was any imagination energy flowing in her it wasn’t showing itself. No, all she felt was the cold glass. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe she wasn't a Zeta. They were wasting time. Besides, this was ridiculous.

Let go.

It was a small voice, familiar but distant, cool but with a brush of spring at the tips. And she exhaled, like the the touch of spring traced its way down her spine. Ease followed the touch, something teeming on her skin.

Her surroundings faded. There were breaths; inhales and exhales. Four to be exact. No wait, there were more. Small breaths, hard to hear. But the more she listened, the more she could make out.

Her hands throbbed. It was as if there were little strings coming out of her hand and connecting to something. They coiled and swirled, invisible but there like the wind. They came out of her but flowed within too. Was this imagination energy or something altogether more appealing?

Their wings fluttered, their antennae twitched. They were ease and anxiety, life and death, moving on and on. She was in the rain forest hiding from predators, and in a haven of trees in Mexico. They cradled in cocoons, metamorphosis an exciting reality. They were all connected; speaking to her but not with words or voices. Rather it was with emotion. Butterflies were a patchwork too, but a patchwork of emotion. They were a mess of fear, joy, and knowledge. Written in the design of their wings was the hope of finding their way home. When she was with them she knew she would find her way home too; a home she didn't know yet.

Sibyl opened her eyes. They huddled together, crowding around her hands.  They watched, sweet and gentle. She gave a nervous laugh. This was impossible. It couldn't be real. Yet nothing felt more real than this.

“I'm doing it,” she whispered. “I'm connecting to them.”

In that moment they were one. Her heart beat with their wings in perfect rhythm. They were bright and wonderful and everything she couldn't be. They were life and progress and the constant reminder of a better future. Butterflies were hope.

She stopped. Something slithered up her spine. A dark unnerving sensation seized her. Something else connected. Something dark that crawled on her skin. Sibyl pulled away with a shrill cry, the glass case shattering. The butterflies flew around in a panic. Sibyl fell to her back, glass piercing her skin. Images flashed in her mind. There was a smile, darkness, and again the sensation of endless something crawling on her.

Someone screamed. Not her own. Or was it? It was far off, the scream of a ghost. Something stabbed her chest and she reached for it. No blood. It wasn't real. But the sensations and images wouldn't leave her. The butterflies frenzied, dark images consuming her.

In the dark depths of her mind she saw something. No, someone. They laid on a bed of cobwebs, dressed in clothes of another time. They were beautiful and horrifying all at once. Even a bit familiar. She grabbed her face, trying to count her breaths.

Red eyes shot open. Those were eyes she’d seen before. Somewhere. Somehow. They breathed new life, and with their first breath they whispered her name.

Sibyl screamed. She didn't know them. But maybe she did. Yet he was there, a twisted smile on his face at her hysteria. And he reached out, seeking her touch. Her body shivered and her hands radiated white hot energy. The butterflies stopped, dropping one by one.

Dead.

The room fell silent save for Sibyl's heavy breathing. Dead butterflies and glass littered the ground, forming a circle around her. Blood dripped from the scratches on her hands. The image was gone. The connection was gone. He was gone.

After some time, she shouted “What the hell was that?”

Xavier was pale and wide eyed. His gaze slithered to Reeve and Josephine.  Neither spoke.

“What just happened?” she repeated.

They didn't speak. And for a moment, Xavier looked terrified, pale with blood shot eyes. “My dear, you're in the Zeta Class,” he replied with a forced grin, his lips shaking. His voice came out high pitched.

Strands of her red hair fell over her face as she propped herself up on her elbows. This wasn't right. Darkness crawled all over her, waiting for the opportune moment to bite.

Westley passed out on after dinner in the green room so Sibyl and Josephine sat around and attempted conversation. It wasn’t going so well.

“So how long have you been in this whole Order business?” Assuming it’s even a real thing and you aren’t all psychotic.

“My whole life. Most don’t start training until they’re 16 but Reeve and I have special circumstances,” Josephine answered.

Sibyl just nodded, not making eye contact. “And you’re actually from Texas?”

“Born in Alabama but yeah, raised in Texas for the most part.”

“Cool. Cool.”

“And you?”

“Montana my whole life.”

“That’s nice.”

“I hate it.”

Silence followed. Sibyl fidgeted with her hands. There had to be something the two had in common. Based on the fact that Josephine was in a pretty dress and heels like she walked out of a high end fashion blog whereas Sibyl looked like a vintage hipster it seemed unlikely.

“Do you like music? I like music. Let’s listen to music.” Sibyl jumped to her feet and walked to the iHome to play some smooth jazz. “I don’t know about you but I like good old jazz.”

“I don’t mind. I don’t really keep up with pop culture and new music anyway,” Josephine replied, her feet moving to the Glenn Miller’s In The Mood. “Reeve’s better about that.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes we go to remote places. If we're lucky we get assignments in populated areas, but those tend to go to older members,” Josephine explained. “We can't risk people noticing a bunch of teenagers running around. In smaller more remote areas people don't care.” She stopped. “What is this?”

“Glenn Miller. I’m a total music hipster. If it’s not classic jazz it’s not worth my time,” Sibyl replied as she came to Josephine’s side on the carpet and sat pretzel style. Josephine gave her a blank stare. “You don't know Glenn Miller? Haven't you ever seen the Jimmy Stewart movie? Or heard Moonlight Serenade? You've heard him, I'm sure of it. This song’s familiar right?”

Again she received a blank stare. “Jimmy Stewart?”

Sibyl gasped as if she told her she murdered her family, hand on her chest. Josephine chortled. “Jimmy Stewart is a legend. How do you not know Jimmy Stewart?”

She made a face. “The price I pay for being in the Grimm Order.”

Sibyl wagged a finger. “Excuses. We're gonna have a movie marathon and you're gonna watch The Glenn Miller Story. Please tell me you've seen The Goonies.” Josie's eyebrows drew together. “Alright, The Glenn Miller Story and The Goonies. And since we can't talk about pop culture, tell me where you've been.” Though she was tempted to ask where Josephine shopped if she traveled so much and all. How did she keep up with fashion?

Josephine considered this for a moment. She ran her hand through her dark hair. “Fiji was beautiful. We were there for a few weeks. We had to move a gate. Gates are where they are for a reason. We ended up destroying it.” Her finger traced her lower lip. “It was a beautiful painting.”

Sibyl laid back. “Are they all paintings?”

“The majority of the time, but they've become photographs. Because of emerging technology each of us has to be trained in photography. Luther's pretty good at it,” she replied. “You should see his collection. He's photographed everywhere he's been, the people he's seen, and plenty of Fae. In photographs, film not digital mind you, you can see a Fae's true form.”

“Mmmhmm.” Her eyes were heavy, half because it was late and this was about as stimulating as the conversation got with Josephine so far.

“Tired?”

“No,” Sibyl lied.

“Get some rest. We're leaving in two hours,” she whispered, standing. Josephine turned out the lights. Before she could protest, the weight of sleep crushed down on Sibyl.

****

“Where's Josephine?” Sibyl yawned as she stretched. She should have been freezing, but wasn't. It helped that Reeve radiated heat. They met outside the Aislin’s home for some test or something. She was too tired to remember the details, but the point was that she was standing outside in the middle of the night. Westley slept on the Aislin’s couch.

“She's talking to Luther. I think she's checking to see if he has anything for you,” Reeve replied. They stood on the street in front of the Aislin's home.

“Can she hurry? I'm so tired,” she said with another yawn. “What time is it?”

He checked his phone. “Eleven fifty.”

“Why are we doing this so late?”

Reeve cleared his throat. “It's the best time we could get a hold of a council member and schedule a meeting. Time is different in Faerie.”

“Different how?” she asked with an arched brow. Reeve opened his mouth but was interrupted.

“Well, well, well,” a voice said behind them. They turned to see an Asian girl approach. Long jet black hair covered half her face. She was tall and slim, dressed in all black, what little street lights they had illuminating her. “Sibyl Bix, the new Key Master.” Her hands were on her hips. “Where's the prince?”

“He's safe. We'd send him back but he's refusing,” Reeve replied. Sibyl looked between the two.

“You two know each other?”

“This is Akari, a Sweeper and part of the Order,” Reeve introduced. “Akari, this is Sibyl.”

“Everyone's been talking about her.” Akari looked her up and down. “I wonder what she's capable of.”

“Right here people. My ears work fine thank you very much.” Sibyl pointed to herself. “And what do you mean everyone's been talking about me?”

When she turned to Reeve she caught him glaring at Akari.

“Don't worry about it,” he assured through clenched teeth. Which did the opposite. His gaze didn't leave Akari. “Where's Josephine? We have to leave soon.”

“Way to avoid the subject,” Sibyl grumbled.

Akari chuckled and it was irritating how enchanting it was. “Have you met Reeve?”

So this girl was in on this thing too. Which could mean that there was some truth to the Order. Where did she even come from? Sibyl eyed her as she crossed her arms and checked her phone. The little screen illuminated her tan face, and she thought she caught a glimpse of her other eye but Akari peered up at her, making Sibyl look away.

“It’s rude to stare,” Akari commented.

“Sorry,” Sibyl mumbled, biting her lip and hoping her cheeks weren’t red. Reeve bit down a smile. Akari pocketed her cell phone. “I hope you aren’t like this in Faerie. The hair doesn’t help.”

She touched her red hair, her brows furrowed. “What?”

The front door opened, Luther and Josephine emerging. Josephine glanced at Sibyl and smiled. Ushering her forward, Luther ruffled her hair.

“Sorry I took so long.” She gave them a small smile after swatting away Luther’s hand. “Let's get moving. Oh hi Akari. It's nice to see you. How are things in the fire clan?”

Akari shrugged. “Not so bad.”

“Glad to hear it. Where's Maika?”

Akari pursed her lips. “Maika get over here.”

Out from the shadows came a girl with a large grin. Up close she looked just like Akari, but her hair covered the opposite side of her face and she was dressed in all pink. She even wore a mini skirt and tall boots, not at all minding that it was freezing outside. None of them seemed to care. Sibyl didn’t either, but she still wore a jacket.

“Don’t mind her,” Akari commented, again returning to her phone. “She’s just shy.” Something caught her attention. She stared at the trees.

Maika, on the other hand, skipped to Sibyl. “Hi, I'm Maika. Akari's twin.”

“Shy eh?” Sibyl raised her eyebrows at Akari but she wasn't paying attention. Following her gaze, she was staring at an unkindness of ravens. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Akari snapped. Her attention turned to Maika. “Quit scaring the girl. Did you find the gate?”

“Gate?”

“I'm a Key Master like you,” Maika clarified. “You can't go through the gate in the attic. That'd be silly.”

“The gate, Maika.” Akari rubbed her eye. But there was a slight smile on her face.

“Right, to the Nevernever. Follow me.” She turned and skipped down the street, whistling. They followed, Sibyl giving Josie a questioning look but she just shrugged. “Gates linger where there is the most imagination. Imagination is powerful magic.”

Imagination is magic. And the Nevernever was Faerie? Alright. She made a mental note to put that in her notes. They walked into the backyard of a house, Maika putting a finger to her lips and winking. They tip toed to the back, stepping through the snow. In the darkness Sibyl couldn't make out who's house it was. They stopped at a small play house.

“There? That's a gate? I thought paintings and pictures were gates,” Sibyl said, gawking. It was covered in snow and falling a part, having seen better years.

“Look closer. Do you see something on the door?” Maika countered.

Sibyl stepped forward, squinting. There was a drawing on the door. It must have been laminated. Maika giggled. “Any form of art can be a gate. You can have imagination without creativity but you can't have creativity without imagination.” Maika stepped forward and walked to the small door. “We're lucky it's a door. We can walk through.” She touched the picture. It lit up, blinding them. Sibyl turned away. Not surprising, it was just as bright as when she touched the painting.

The light faded and Maika opened the door. She smiled and beckoned them to follow. Then she walked through the small door. Akari followed, Josephine behind her.

“Come on,” Reeve whispered as he lingered behind her. “You're about to see the world your mom loved.”

But if she loved it so much, why did she leave?

****

They arrived in a busy hallway. Sibyl looked back at the door, Montana's frigid landscape waiting for her. Reeve closed it and ushered her forward.

Faerie. She was in Faerie.

It wasn't what she expected. If anything she thought it’d be medieval, but it was a tall long hallway with paintings of various Fae everywhere. Now it wasn’t modern but it wasn’t a stone castle fortress or anything like that. The hallway was long and sleek, tapestries, paintings, and lanterns lighting the way.

And there were people. Or not people. Some had wings, some were talking to animals, and others had strange things like razor sharp teeth or bark for skin. But what caught her attention was what they wore. They were all in Victorian fashion. It was simpler, colorful, or maybe even color coordinated. Westley said something about clan colors right?

Worst of all, though, everyone was staring at her. Gawking.

When she turned to Reeve she gasped. “You're in a tux.”

Gone was his simple flannel, scarf, jeans, and boots. Instead he was in a full on Victorian tail coat tuxedo. He scratched the back of his neck and gave an embarrassed smile. There was a small crest on the breast pocket, the colors of the tux in purple, red, and white.

Josephine was next to him in a hoop skirt and dress, grinning from ear to ear. White, red, and purple roses decorated her dress and hair. The dresses were simpler in detail, but stunning nonetheless.

“Jo you too?” Sibyl asked. Maika was by her side in a similar dress, but with orchids and roses decorating her red and purple dress. “Everyone?”

“You kind of stick out,” he chuckled.

Sibyl looked down at herself. She was still in her yellow mod dress, purple jacket, and cowboy boots. “Why aren't I in a dress?”

“I guess it’s cause you’re not in the Order,” Maika said with a shrug, staring at her boots. “Lucky too. I bet you don’t have to suffer through a corset.”

“Maika’s right. You're not a member of the Order so no special corset for you,” Reeve explained, putting his hand on the small of her back. A small smile crossed his face. “I'm sure you'll make an entrance.”

“It's my tights, isn't it? They'll love seeing my legs,” she replied, striking a dramatic pose. Maika giggle. But there was something about Faerie. She couldn't put her finger on it.

“Well if they don't I will,” Reeve offered, earning him a slap on the arm from Sibyl. He chuckled. Maika couldn’t contain her laughter, making them both smile.

“When you’re done flirting we should go,” Josephine interrupted, giving Reeve a pointed look. His smile dropped. “It's not good to keep Xavier waiting.”

With that she turned to leave, so natural in the dress. Sibyl turned to Reeve. Why did she give him that look? It wasn’t like they were flirting. It was all harmless joking. But he didn’t meet her gaze, instead turning to Maika.

“Thanks for your help. Tell Akari we said thanks as well. And she’s lame for ditching so soon,” Reeve said with a wave.

Maika played with her hair. Though her hair was in an up-do, half of her face was still covered. “You know her, always on the move.”

“Well have a great day. You’re now my favorite.” Maika winked and made a gun with his fingers before turning to leave. With that Reeve gave Sibyl a little push and they followed his twin.

“What's with the colors?” she whispered.

“They represent whichever clan we belong to,” he replied.

“Didn't you say something about belonging to a Rose Clan?” If she could remember right. Didn't Westley ask them that?

“Yeah. Josephine and I are knights of the Rose Clan. Someone's been listening,” Reeve explained with a crooked smile.

“And is Faerie full of twins? Do I have a secret twin?” That was a strange thought. What if she had a secret evil twin who somehow hurt Celia out of revenge for not taking her to Earth and raising Sibyl instead?

Reeve laughed. “No. No secret twins for you. Ironic, too.”

“How so?”

He shrugged, his smile dropping. “Twins are just so common.”

They turned a corner. A few more people in Victorian attire passed. All eyes were on her. At one corner a satyr walked by. Sibyl almost screamed when Reeve covered her mouth and rushed her ahead before they could notice.

“Don't freak out,” he hissed into her ear. “Do you want to offend people?”

“That wasn’t a person that was a satyr. A satyr. Those things are real?” she whisper hissed back, pushing him away.

“Yeah they're Fae. Don't act so alarmed. You already stick out like a sore thumb.”

“It's the boots, isn't it?”

“That and I'm sure some of these Fae haven't seen long lean legs in net stockings in years,” Reeve retorted. He chortled. A small smile crossed her face and she elbowed him.

“Shut up. And by shut up I mean keep the compliments rolling.”

He laughed. They went down a set of stairs, Josie casting glances over her shoulder at them. They passed a girl with blue scaly skin and blond hair with blue streaks.

“Hi Reeve.” She waved a webbed hand.

“Hi Coral,” Reeve bowed to her. “Sorry, I have an appointment.”

“Until next time.” She nodded her head and hurried up the stairs. Sibyl elbowed him.

“Hey!”

“Who was that?”

“Coral. Didn’t you hear me say her name? Pay attention Sibyl.”

“Why is she blue?” Sibyl kept close as she passed a man with a human torso and head with a snake body. She'd have to research the different types of Fae. More notes to make!

“Oh my gosh Sibyl you can't just ask why people are blue,” Reeve replied. She gave him a sideways glance, all humor gone. “Alright fine. That's how she looks without Glamor. Unless she's in the water and has a tail.”

Sibyl gasped, beaming. “She's a mermaid?”

“What? No. She's a water nymph. Way different. Trust me. Be happy she's a nymph.” Again, she had a lot of research ahead of her. Were these the kinds of creatures her mom knew and dealt with? What if Celia was a nymph? Did that mean she was a nymph too?

Questions were swimming in her mind as she followed them through the winding halls of who-knew-where in Faerie. They opened a large door. It was a hall that went around in a circle. The doors were each the same, pointed at the end like a Gothic cathedral. The symbol on the door they stopped at was a snowy owl with white marigolds, calla lilies, and vines around it.

“Is there an Owl Clan?”

“Shhh,” Josephine hushed as she knocked.

A woman with pointed ears opened. “Do you have a meeting today?” Her eyes turned to Sibyl and she furrowed her brows, looking her up and down. It took everything in Sibyl not to sigh. At least the Fae were beautiful and checking her out. There was a compliment in there somewhere.

“I'm Josephine Aislin of the Rose Clan and this is my brother Reeve,” Josephine answered. The woman opened the doors, her eyes never leaving Sibyl.

“And who is this?”

“I'm Sibyl Bix, the daughter of Celia Bix,” Sibyl answered.

“Well at least now that you're in Reeve's clothes you don't stick out like a sore thumb,” Sibyl said as she walked with Reeve and Westley into the mall. Except he did stick out because he had cheekbones sculpted by angels and gawked at everything.

It was a small mall that closed at six every day and had little to offer save a large book store at one end and Macey’s at the other. Walking in, they were greeted with stomping and loud instruments. Sibyl groaned. The pep rally started at the mall before the band led everyone to school. Of course. How could she forget?

She grabbed Westley's arm and dragged him to Macy's. He was warm under her hold but shuddered when she touched him. Looking back, Sibyl caught Reeve talking to Mary. Something he said made her laugh. With a roll of the eyes she dragged Westley to the Junior's department.

“I picture you as kind of preppy,” she mumbled as she studied him in Reeve's v-neck and tight pants. Westley was more toned than Reeve, filling his clothes well. Hot damn.

“You dress pretty colorful in Faerie,” Sibyl noted with a gulp as she went to the polos. “What kind of colors do you like?”

“I wear the colors of my clan,” Westley explained. He motioned to Reeve's clothes, an emerald v-neck with cobalt stripes. “Not these colors. Though I'm partial to blue.”

“What are the colors of your clan?”

“Blue, yellow, and white.”

Shame. He’d look amazing in red. “Well I think you'll look good in some polos. I'll find some colors you might like. But I think these styles are too young for you.” She lead him to the pants section, pulling out a size and checking it against him. He made a face, shifting his weight between his feet. “We need to get you some well fitted jeans – Keep in mind this is coming out of my wallet.”

“What about that?”

“Hmm?” Sibyl followed his gaze as he walked up to a mannequin in the mens' section. It was dressed in a suave suit with a bow tie. This prince wasn't so bad. Dapper even.

“I can't afford that,” she told him as she came to his side and touched his arm. Westley flinched. “Sorry. Come on. Let's try these on.” When he didn't follow Sibyl turned back to him.

“I like it,” he admitted in a small voice followed by a small chuckle. “It's strange here. Nothing like Faerie.”

“You'll get used to it. Come on. This place closes soon.”

They walked to the dressing room. From there she handed him the clothes and waited outside, tapping her foot. Her hands flexed at her side.

“Am I to dress in these clothes all the time?” Westley asked from inside.

“Yeah. Sorry if you hate them.”

“On the contrary, they're rather comfortable. Though I must say, the clothes women wear in this world are odd,” he commented. A small smile formed on her face as Sibyl tapped her cowboy boots and played with the hem of her yellow dress.

“I guess we show more than they do in your world, eh?”

“Indeed. Such clothing wouldn't be suitable in Faerie Court.”

Voices outside caught her attention. Sibyl tip toed to the exit.

“I can't explain what she did to me.”

Freddie.

He was coming to the dressing room. Sibyl cursed under her breath, running back in and knocking on Westley's door. “Let me in,” she whispered. “Westley open up.”

He gasped. “I'm changing!”

“I won't look just open up.” The door swung open and Sibyl slammed it shut, standing on the seat and crouching down. She put a finger to her lips but used her other hand to usher him to continue changing.

“I will not,” he whispered.

Freddie and his friends walked into the dressing room. She put her palms together.

“Just act normal. I won't look,” she mouthed, closing her eyes and covering them with her hands.

Westley sighed, pulling off the light blue polo. He hesitated, watching to be sure she didn't see him, then tried to manage his pants zipper.

“The next time I see her, I'll give her a piece of my mind.” Freddie said, a door opening.

“Man it was weird. You were out all day.” That was his friend Zach.

“Such a freakazoid.” That was Teresa. If she could curl her hands into fists she would. “It’s weird how much she’s changed. I mean she’s like a completely different person now.” Teresa popped her gum.

“But still hot,” Freddie countered.

“Hey you can tap that if you want. I wouldn't. You've heard the rumors,” Zach replied. “Dude can you hurry up?”

“Seriously Freddie who comes to an event without the school colors on?” Teresa added.

“Sorry not all of us are prepared as you. This good?” A door opened and he walked out. Teresa popped her gum again.

“Good enough. Come on freakazoids,” she insisted, marching out.

Freddie went back to change and followed Zach out soon after. Sibyl refused to move until she was certain they were gone. Then she stumbled to the floor, shaking.

“Are you okay Miss Sibyl?” Westley asked, reaching for her arm. His touch was warm, soothing.

“Hmm?”

He was unbuttoning his shirt, his collarbone visible. It didn’t take a vivid imagination to guess under the shirt was a toned a sculpted body. How this guy was real was beyond her. Gulping, she looked away, still shaking. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Were they talking about you?”

Leaning against the wall, she let out a deep breath. “Yes.”

Westley paused. “No wonder you want to avoid them. Their English is rather poor.” Which made her chortle. He reached for her but she recoiled. Clearing his throat, he stepped back. “My apologies. Perhaps you should leave my dressing room so I can finish.”

Stepping out, Sibyl stared at the closed door. It wasn't Westley who made her recoil, but she wasn't sure how to communicate that without having an uncomfortable conversation. Her fingers prickled.

They were silent. Westley came out in a deep maroon polo shirt and dark pants. Just as she suspected, red looked amazing on him. It made his golden brown eyes vibrant. She half expected him to have this exotic color, but this was even better. “I like this one best.”

Sibyl stammered, taking him in. Wowza. “Yeah it suits you. I think you'll need a haircut too.” She reached out to play with his hair. But it was one of his best features. It’d be a shame to modernize it. A small smile crossed his face. “You still have the Victorian hair and those crazy sideburns, but that can wait.” He stared at his feet then peeked at her. “Oh I almost forgot. You sound too formal. The accent sounds kind of English.” She paused. “How do you know English?”

“Pardon?”

“English. I'd think being from another world would mean you speak a different language.”

“We've spoken English since the Order began. We also speak French and some areas speak German. Some of us still speak Faerie. There are different languages for different regions. Like here, I suppose.”

She nodded, tapping her chin. “Okay. And I have one more question.”

“Yes?”

“How old are you?” Before he could protest she countered with, “I know it's rude to ask, Westley, but it's important I know.”

Westley opened his mouth to counter her, then clamped it shut, his shoulders falling. “Twenty-three years.”

Well that explained why he wasn’t burdened with teenage baby face syndrome. “Yeah now you're seventeen. Got it? And you're from England and you're part of a student exchange program. We're friends. Okay?” Sibyl reached past him and grabbed the clothes he tried on. “Tell me which you like best.” One by one she held them up and he wrinkled his nose or smiled in response.

Once done, Westley asked, “Am I to wear this the rest of the night?”

“Yes, but go back inside and change out of them. Wait for me and I'll pay.”

She stopped. He must have Victorian undergarments. He'd need boxers. Blushing, she shoved the thought aside. Reeve could help him get those. Westley held the clothes out for her and she grabbed them, her face burning. “I'll be back.”

Poking her head out, she scanned the area for Freddie. There was no sign of Reeve either. Jerk. Once she was certain it was empty she walked to the register and paid.

The band was gone and with no Reeve around she'd be stuck with Westley. Well he wasn't too bad. Not bad to look at, that's for sure. But where would they go? The Aislin's? Her place?

Sibyl froze with the clothes in hand. Rose. If she went to her house Rose would be there. And then what? Rose must have been from Faerie too, or knew something about it. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea.

When she returned the clothes to Westley and he was ready the stores were closing. Sibyl dragged him out since he kept wanting to try on suits. Outside the band echoed into the still night, like a far off possibility they couldn’t grasp. Westley turned to her with raised brows. “Where to Miss Sibyl?”

****

“Josephine? Luther?” Sibyl called as she opened the front door. They stepped in, scanning the area for any sign of the two. “Hello?”

Clang! Footsteps ran up the stairs, and the door on the side of the staircase opened, Josephine appearing. Her eyes widened when she saw Westley.

“Your highness! You look fantastic,” she complimented with a thumbs up. Then her smile faltered. “Where's Reeve?”

“He left with Mary to the pep rally. The little jerk left me to babysit,” Sibyl replied.

“I'm not a baby. I'm older than you,” Westley shot back.

Sibyl grabbed his cheek. He flinched and shot her a playful glare. “Aw poor baby. Does baby need a nap?”

Josephine looked between the two but sighed, flailing her arms at her side. “Sorry about Reeve,” she mumbled. “He’s a little too nice for his own good. Knowing him he probably didn’t have the heart to say no to Mary, too scared he’ll hurt her feelings.”

Sibyl stopped. “And here I thought he was just a flirt.”

“Reeve?” Josephine snorted, which seemed almost out of character of her. “No way. He just likes to make people happy.”

“The more you know. Anyway, where's Luther?”

“Oh he's downstairs trying to get everything ready for you to get tested tonight.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Tonight? Doesn't that seem a bit fast? I feel like I need more time to adjust and stuff.”

“I know but the sooner we get it done the better.”

With a sigh she leaned against Westley who had no idea what to do with himself. “How long will it take?”

“No more than an hour.”

“I guess if I must,” Sibyl replied, again wondering about Rose. Maybe Rose had the answers. It was worth trying, but not with the Aislins around. Actually, maybe it was best not to tell them about her in the first place. She walked into the living room, Westley following with a pained expression.

“Are all houses like this?”

“No. And now that you mention it this place needs some work. People will get suspicious if they realize you guys aren't trying to clean up,” Sibyl said, wiping some dust off a portrait on the wall. Westley sneezed.

Josephine's forehead wrinkled as her eyebrows turned upward. “You think so? But we can't afford to fix it.”

“Then I'll help out. I’m gonna ask for more hours anyway. They won’t let me in Honors Society with a suspension.” Which was going to be a thrill to explain to Celia when she came to. Her stomach rumbled and her gaze flickered to the kitchen. “What do you have to eat?”

“Uhh…”

“Just what I thought. Oh the travesty.” Sibyl dramatized, her hand on her forehead. “I guess we’ll have to try something else.”

Josephine sucked in her cheeks. “I don’t think we can go out.”

“The diner’s closed anyway,” Sibyl replied, dropping her hand and her act.  “Unless you want Subway, which is the only other place here. Oh and McDonald’s. But that’s okay we can work something out. Westley are you hungry?”

“I'm famished,” Westley added.

Josephine turned to him, biting her lip. “I'm not sure you'll like our food.”

He waved her off. “If there are Fae who can live amongst your kind and deal with your food then so can I. Come. I insist we get a meal. I'm sure Miss Sibyl has a nicer home and a good chef.” He stood, offering his arm to Josephine.

Well not a chef but a weird relative who never left her room. A relative who might be from Faerie. Sibyl turned to Westley. “I don’t think we should go to my house.”

“Why not?” Westley asked.

Because of Rose and her wrinkled nose. “I have a place we can go. I mean it’s a bit of a long shot. I just need to pick up things from my place and we can go,” she forced out, the gears in her head working. If they suspected she was hiding something then she’d have to think of a valid excuse. Something…

“Alright. Lead the way. Let me just tell Luther,” Josephine agreed. “Westley why don’t you go with Sibyl to pick up the stuff from her home.” For a second their eyes met and she thought Josephine was trying to tell her something, like she knew. Sibyl kept her expression blank, or as blank as she could remember was physically possible.

“We’ll come back from you,” she told Josephine before motioning for Westley to follow her out the door and to her truck. If he noticed how she gulped and her hands quivered he didn’t show it. Not that she had any real reason to be nervous. It wasn’t like there was any proof Rose was involved in this. If she was in the Order they had to know, but what if this was all a trick and Rose had the real answers? Maybe it was just best to keep them in the dark about her.

When she pulled into her home she peeked up at the windows. Sure enough, Rose’s light was on. Sibyl mouthed a curse and unbuckled. “One minute. You can just wait here,” she told him. Westley just nodded, staring at her house. It must have paled in comparison to his castle. Or castles.

Sibyl walked out of the car and to her door. When she opened the front door she paused at the doorway, stepping in to be sure Rose wasn’t downstairs. The house was empty, untouched. Letting out the breath she was holding, Sibyl walked to the kitchen and pulled out a basket from the closet. She put in pots, pans, knifes, aprons, and got a bag of whatever stuff she could find to make dinner. They had three potatoes, a little bit of rice, chicken, onions, and tomato sauce. Perfect.

First she carried out the basket, putting it in the tiny backseat. Westley watched with a quirked brow but she waved him off before he could offer his assistance. It was better this way. Then she ran back in to grab the food bag.

“Going somewhere?”

Sibyl jumped, dropping the bag and cringing at the sound of the sauce jar hitting the kitchen island. Then she sighed and put her palms on the counter. “Do you always sneak up like that?”

“Why are you being so sneaky with the food?” Rose questioned, leaning against the door frame leading to the back hallway. She wore a black silk robe with floral embroidery, her hair up in a teal retro turban as she wore big teardrop shaped earrings. Despite being so casual she was the poster child for class and still had perfect makeup.

“I’m just going out with some friends. We’re gonna have a potluck,” she fibbed, giving her a thin smile. “There’s plenty of food here for you.”

Before she could leave Rose swept in front of her, hands on her hips. “You’re coming home rather late from school. Where have you been all day?”

“Why so curious? I was out with friends, obviously.” And discovering magical worlds while also bringing a Faerie prince to earth.

Her eyes narrowed. “And here I thought you didn’t have any friends.” How would she know that? There was a pang in her heart.

“Well things change,” she replied, again with the thin smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go.”

Sibyl stepped around her to leave when Rose grabbed her arm and leaned into her ear. “I have eyes everywhere Sibyl. You can’t hide it forever.”

Maybe if she wasn’t kissed by ice she’d shiver at her breath or cringe at her frost tipped grip. Her fingers throbbed, and when she cast a glance back at Rose’s black eyes she knew this woman was one of them. But whether or not she trusted her was another question.

Rose let her go, raising her chin as if understanding something. She fought a smile and crossed her arms. “Have fun with your little friends. I’m going to bed. I don’t care for your mortal rules on time.” With one last smug glance Rose left the kitchen and went up the stairs. Sibyl watched, rubbing the spot where she gripped her.

She flicked off bits of frost from where Rose grabbed her.

****

Sibyl couldn’t get her mind off of Rose’s warning. Was she being literal or just trying to scare her? Westley fidgeted beside her as they waited for Josephine in the driveway. Reeve still hadn’t shown up, but based on the time he had another hour at the pep rally. Maybe more if he went to hang out with Mary and her friends.

“We’re are we going?” Westley asked, fidgeting and playing with the buckle.

“Is something wrong?” she asked, looking him up and down. His cheeks turned pink, and internally she screamed at how cute it was. So far there were two sides to Westley, too hot to be real and awkward dork.

“Your carriage is strange. We have horseless carriages too, but they don’t smell and aren’t like this,” he confessed in a small voice. Was he scared?

“Oh. Sorry if it bothers you. And sorry about the smell. That’s gasoline. It stinks, eh?”

Westley avoided eye contact. “Indeed it does. Let’s go for another mode of transportation.”

Sibyl’s brows furrowed. Was that an order? Then she snorted, catching his attention so his gold eyes were on her once more. “Uh no. We stick to my truck. Her name is Sylvia by the way. Be nice to Sylvia.”

“Miss Sibyl I must insist-”

“Hey guys,” Josephine greeted from Sibyl’s window. “Ready?”

“You betcha. Westley get in the middle so Josephine can sit next to you. Come on, it’ll be a bit tight.” Westley gawked at her so she gave him a sugar sweet smile.

“Miss Sibyl-”

Josephine came in and his warm arms brushed her skin, a shudder of warm sliding down her back. “You’re so warm. Thank goodness too. It was getting cold in here, don’t you think Josephine?”

The girl caught on, giving him a honeysuckle sweet smile. “And you do have beautiful eyes your highness.”

“Let’s not forget how strong you are,” Sibyl added, feeling his arms. Dang he had nice biceps. Westley blushed.

“Well now Miss Sibyl-”

“You can call us by our first names. No 'miss' necessary, sugar,” Josephine interrupted, flashing her best smile. Westley's neck turned red. Sibyl turned on the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

“If you insist-”

“Just so you guys know I brought the stuff to make dinner. And I got us three aprons. Don’t touch my batman apron and we’ll have fun tonight.”

“What? You expect me to cook?” Westley gasped.

“We’re all going to cook, your highness. Team effort here. We’re all equal in my house. Except we’re not going to my house. We’re going to my second home.” Josephine raised her eyebrows at this but Sibyl didn’t elaborate further, turning on the radio and her iPod. Westley didn’t make any more protestations as the music played, Meg & Dia serenading them on their drive.

When they pulled in Josephine cast her a confused glance, eyes demanding an explanation but Sibyl just turned off the car and sighed. “I told you my mom made costumes right?” Her eyes didn’t leave the building, which was empty, a sign advertising the upcoming spring musical dates.

“I thought it was for the historical society,” Josephine replied.

“It was. But most of the time it was for plays all over the state. Come on. I have the keys.” She unbuckled and got out of the car, grabbing the bag of food.  Josephine grabbed the basket and followed her as she made her way to the door. “They have music camp here in the summer so there are rooms to sleep and there’s a kitchen. Celia used to teach a dance and costuming class.”

When the door was unlocked she held it open for them and they followed, Westley eying it suspiciously. “You’re sure this is safe?”

“Just trust me,” she insisted, shoving him in and locking the door behind her.  Josephine turned on the lights, posters of past shows staring down at them. Sibyl lead the way down the hall past the theater, dressing rooms, concessions, and offices. She unlocked another door and brought them to the barracks. “This is where camp is. If you know drama kids you get why they lock these doors.”

“You helped your mom?” Josephine asked, turning on a hallway light and following her to a mess hall and kitchen.

“When she needed me. I can’t sew much like her but I can do little things. And I was in pit sometimes, or I helped with the dance classes. Just whatever,” Sibyl replied. “She was also in charge of cooking, and if you’ve had Celia’s food you’d understand why she needed help.”

“So you cook.”

“No Thomas does, my dad. Again, I just helped whenever. But I learned a few things here and there,” she explained, placing the back on the kitchen island. Sibyl grabbed her batman apron and tossed a floral one to Westley. Josephine grabbed a white one with ‘Kiss the Cook’ written across it.

Westley was silent, taking his time to put on the colorful apron. Back to his awkward side, he lingered by the doorway gawking at the place. It was like he was discovering a new world. A small smile curved the corner of his lips. Sibyl tied up her hair, watching as he warmed to his surroundings.

“You okay?” she asked.

He met her gaze, a wide smile crossing his face. “It's just... I'm being treated like a normal person. Not-”

“A prince?” Sibyl finished, taking the food out of the bag.

“Yes. It feels nice.” Westley said. “Thank you.”

Something about the way he looked at her made her catch her breath. There was a light in his eyes. “No problem.”

“I hope you two know how to cook. Or at least Josephine,” she told them as she grabbed the cutting board and washed her hands.

“Reeve's the cook in our family,” Josephine admitted. “But I can still do some stuff.”

“Alright then you peel the potatoes,” Sibyl instructed, grabbing a bowl and putting the potatoes in before grabbing the potato peeler. “Wash them then put them in the bowl and peel. Oh, let me get you a plate for the peelings.”

Once everything was set up for Josephine she placed onions on the cutting board and grabbed a knife.

“I can cut them,” Westley offered, coming next to her.

“Are you sure? I don't know if they have onions in Faerie but they make people cry. Think you can handle it?”

Westley grabbed the knife. “I'll survive.”

“Alright, I'll work on the rice and meat. Get cookin' people.”

To their surprised it turned out to be a fun evening. Westley panicked when he started crying as he cut the onions and the girls laughed. Josephine kept getting distracted and almost burned the food. Yet decadent scents and warm laughter filled the mess hall.

“We need this in Faerie,” Westley proclaimed as they ate. “This is delicious.”

“Teamwork!” Sibyl replied as she raised her glass. “Thanks for your help guys.”

“Thank you for letting me help,” Westley countered.

“Even if I did believe you, which I don't, how do you explain that portrait of Celia in your attic?” Sibyl snapped as they sat her down in their living room. Prince of Faerie, as she liked to call him, sat on the dusty coach with dismay. Reeve stood in front of her.

“We can't. It was there when we got here. We're assigned to guard it so nothing like this,” he pointed his thumb back to the prince, “happens.”

“Who is he?” Sibyl motioned her head to the blond standing next to Josephine. The man blinked, pointing to himself.

“Luther, our adult mentor,” Reeve answered. He pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Look, give us a chance to explain. This got out of hand.”

“You expect me to believe you?” She scoffed. “I don't want to know about anything involving you two.” Sibyl jumped to her feet. Reeve side stepped her. “Get out of my way.”

“Not until you give us a chance to explain.” His eyes begged her to listen, gold speckled in them.

“No. I've had enough,” she snarled. “Adios.” She tried to leave but he side stepped her again. His face darkened, going rigid. But his eyes were vivid and bright.

“I can't let you leave.”

“Oh and what are you gonna do to stop me?” Her hands were on her hips. “Move it Reeve.”

“No.”

Sibyl raised her hand to slap him, but Reeve grabbed it midair. The tingle under his touch made her gulp. “Trust me, Sibyl, I will make you listen if I have to,” he warned through clenched teeth, eyes blazing. Fear swept over her. She had no clue what they were capable of and she didn't want to find out the hard way.

“Oh show some manners Reeve,” Luther's liquid voice chastised. He had a slight European accent. “Don't scare the poor thing.”

“Too late for that,” she muttered, wrenching free of his hold. Sibyl stepped back and took a seat, defeated.

Luther sighed, shaking a finger at Reeve. “Your mother would be so disappointed in that tough act.” Then he looked to Sibyl with cloudy gray eyes.  “Trust me, he wouldn't hurt you at all.”

“But she doesn't know that,” Reeve countered, fighting a grin.

“Again, disappointing your mother.” The blond stepped forward, clearing his throat. He was the kind of man who's laugh made girls swoon with a sort of laziness in his eyes that gave him a far off dreamy look. He had a straight nose and soft lips. With a slight subtle smile he held out a hand as if he was holding a ball.

“Do you remember the fairy tales you were told as a child?” he began with a voice meant to tell stories. Sibyl nodded, eyes narrowing. “Those aren't just fairy tales.” A light appeared above his hand. She gasped and leaned forward, mouth agape. “The Grimm brothers were the first. They discovered they weren't stories but as real as you and I. You see for centuries people were telling stories and fairy tales all over the world, but when they went around to collect such tales in Germany they discovered the truth.” The light turned into a sphere.

“Our world is parallel to another. It's connected through gates.” The sphere showed Earth and white strings coming out from various places. “Through these gates we can travel between worlds. Prior to the Order, this was how stories were told. People would open the gates, catch glimpses, and turn it into a story. This is why we have so many different interpretations. And when these stories are told more live on in this world, which some call Faerie.

“But these gates need to be protected. If not then anything can go in and out. We, the Grimm Order, must watch over these gates and ensure the peace between Earth and Faerie is kept safe. There are many of us. Some travel, and some live normal lives while fulfilling our duties under the guidance of our Oracle.” An image of a dark woman with closed eyes appeared. Her hair was long and white, flowing around her, her skin was tree bark. “We each have different duties. There are the council members for each clan, guardians like Reeve, Josephine, and myself, sweepers who cure and heal, and Key Masters. That's what you are.”

“What does a Key Master do? Do we have key blades?” she asked in a breathless voice.

“Since I have on idea what a key blade is I’m going to say no. Key Masters are essential to the Order. Their touch can unlock any gate. That's why when you touched the painting - a gate - you brought the prince here,” Luther explained.  “And we'll have to send him back. War could break out if the wrong accusations are made.”

“War?”

“There are Fae,” an image of a goblin like creature appeared in the sphere,  “who've taken residence on Earth. Some stay hidden from humans and others live among them. Some hate the Order and others hate Faerie. If word were to get out that a prince was here they would hunt him down.”

The prince squirmed in his seat. “I'm not going back. They tried to marry me off,” he grumbled.

“Well you can't stay here.” Reeve reminded.

“As I was saying.” Luther cleared his throat. He dropped his hand and the light and sphere disappeared as well as the magic of the moment. She had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Now that you are aware of your... Powers. Well, some of them-”

“Some of them? The fact that you said powers was weird enough but that's just... Freaky. Now if you'll excuse me-” Before she could make a run for it, Reeve pushed her down in the seat. Although it was a small gesture, she suspected he was hiding incredible strength. He said he was a knight, didn't he?

“I thought you said he couldn't hurt me,” she grumbled.

“Wouldn't not couldn't. Did he hurt you?”

“Well no.” Except her butt, not that she'd admit that aloud.

“Then why complain? Besides, we're not done, Miss Bix.” Luther smiled with slight amusement. “There are different classes in the Order. While you will have certain powers as a Key Master you will also have other...” He saw the look in her eyes and continued with, “abilities depending on your class. And there's a way to master these... talents.”

She crossed her arms. “And that is?”

“You need to be tutored.”

Her jaw locked and she narrowed her eyes. “Do I have any say in whether I want to 'learn' or be a part of your little cult?” She rose but Reeve pushed her down again. More butt pain for her.

“Okay one: no you don't have a choice because you brought the fricken prince here. No offense your highness,” Reeve grumbled.

“None taken.”

“And two: it's not a cult. It's a secret organization saving the world from unknown catastrophe every day.”

“Reeve's right. You've unlocked your powers, and as punishment you'll have to watch over the prince.” Luther moved out of her viewpoint to motion to him. He grimaced, looking Sibyl up and down with a wrinkled nose.

“What? I demand to be left alone,” he protested.

“Same here, bud,” Sibyl grumbled. Luther stepped back into place, leaning over to Sibyl.

“As for your mother,” he whispered. “There is not much we can say on the matter until you've proven yourself to the Order. If you put your trust in our hands, Miss Bix, we'll help your mother.” He offered his hand, wearing a slick red glove.

“Why do you guys wear gloves?” she whispered without thought.

Luther straightened, withdrawing his hand. “Our powers are enforced through our hands. Your hand touched the painting and you released the prince. And I bet you've felt them pulse with power. There are many things we can do with our hands so we protect them. You should do the same.”

“Now,” he held out his gloved hand again, “Are you willing to put your trust in our hands?”

Sibyl stared at the red glove. None of this should be real. It couldn't be, yet how could she explain what she saw? Still, what did this have to do with Celia? Finding answers meant trusting them. If magic and Faerie were involved then there was no way the doctors or police would figure out what to do. And besides, what if her life was on the line?

“I have some questions.”

“I’m sure you have many, and we’ll answer them in time if you trust us and work with us. We can help you harness and control your powers. Who else can do that?”

“Look I just want to know what Celia has to do with all of this.”

Luther hesitated, so Josephine stepped in. “Your mother isn’t from earth, Sibyl. She’s from Faerie. And you’ve inherited some of her abilities. Those pills she was taking? That was to keep her human. Trust me, the doctors won’t be able to help her. But we can.”

Wasn’t this such good timing? What if they were responsible for her overdose? Her lips pressed into thin line. It was decided. She wouldn't put her complete trust in them. The moment she suspected something wasn't right she'd back down. Sibyl took his hand. There was a tingling sensation as she did so.

“Okay here's the deal: I'll learn about the Order and work with you guys until I get Celia back. The minute I suspect something's wrong, I'm out. Got it?”

Luther turned to the twins. They nodded. “Deal. But you have to watch over the prince.” He let her go, shaking his hand at his side as he stood. A strange sensation ran down her body, starting at her hands.

“Thank you, Sibyl. I think it'd be a good idea for you to leave and get some air. You need to collect your thoughts, yes?” Luther turned his attention to the prince. “Now your highness, what are we to do with you?”

“I told you I'm not going back,” the prince reminded. “I don't want to marry that woman.”

“Please tell me you were kidding about me watching him?” Sibyl asked, leaning her head to the side to get a view of him. At least he was hot.

“We agreed on it. You can't break a deal,” Reeve pointed out. He looked at the grandfather clock on the wall.

“He has a point,” Luther added, then turned to the prince. “If you're going to stay here I suggest you break it to your parents, your highness.”

The prince pouted, sinking in his seat. Reeve scratched the back of his neck.

“Why don't we go to the pep rally? That'll get our minds off everything.”

“Can't. I'm suspended and not allowed at any school events.”

“What's a pep rally?” the prince asked, straightening.

“Something you can't go to dressed like that,” Sibyl said as she stood. “That's a nice suit.”

The prince smiled, pulling on his waistcoat. “Why thank you.”

“No I mean, that's the kind worn for special events. But you have some pretty wild colors there for the 1860s. Faerie’s in the Victorian era?” Sibyl continued, leaning towards him and studying his suit. He looked from side to side, tugging on his cravat.

“Pardon?” the prince squeaked. Sibyl moved away.

“The Victorian era. My mom was a costume designer. She specialized in historical costumes and I got to help her. The style of your clothes is from the Victorian era. The 1860s to be exact. I'd say early 1860s but with a simpler and more colorful touch. Maybe even 1850s. It's weird.”

“You know your stuff,” Josephine noted. “And you're right. Faerie’s stuck in 1859.”

Sibyl narrowed her eyes. “What was going on before you came here?”

“It was my coming-of-age ball where I was to choose my bride. Ridiculous since they picked her years ago.”

The room was silent.

“Okay even I know that's not good,” Sibyl breathed.

“No!” Reeve grabbed his hair in disarray. “Luther?”

“Get him in Earth clothes so he can blend in more. Word has to have spread by now so don't let him out of your sight. I don't know if we can disguise him but we'll try. Josephine, you and I are going to contact the council right away. There's no time to lose. Come on.” Luther and Josephine walked out of the room and down to the basement, leaving the three alone in the living room.

“So... Should we go with um....,” she motioned to the prince. “Prince of Faerie or whatever.”

“My name is Westley.”

“Westley then.” Her attention turned to Reeve. “Give him some of your clothes. We can go to the mall and buy clothes for him. He can't be seen in that. I'll get my car.” Reeve forced a smile and she saluted them, leaving. The prince crossed his arms, tapping his foot.