Her father ignored her.
It didn’t take long until we came to the part of the video where Khalistah lost her temper, revealing her ultimate plan and then altering the Prince’s memory. She lifted her head and squared her petite shoulders, even as those around her sucked in breaths of admonishment and a few Fae laughed at her desire to have McKale. But their reactions did not matter. It was the King I watched. His face had gone hard and his back was rigid. By the end of the video the entire field of grass crackled dry beneath us. The tall grasses of the field tipped back, lying dead as if blown by a lethal wind.
Dad turned off the video and every eye settled on the Summer King.
“Father,” the FFG began. “It is not…” Again her tongue seemed to swell at the attempted lie and she brought a creamy hand to her throat.
The King stood with grace and his light blue robes swirled around him as if tiny tornadoes flanked his body.
He looked directly at McKale and I. “Have you somehow altered reality and replicated Faerie and its occupants?”
“Nay, King o’ the Summer.” McKale stepped forward. “The human device records things exactly as they happen. What ye saw was real and true. I swear it.”
His head slowly swiveled to his daughter in disbelief. She shrank back.
“There is more, Father. This—” she waved her hand at the screen, “—contraption, does not reveal all. What I did was necessary. I can explain.”
“You are born of me, Princess Khalistah, however you are as bound to my laws as all others.”
“But of course, King Father.”
“You would interfere with my plans to continue my race of cobblers?”
“I had a plan which would ensure—”
“Silence!” The ground and trees shuddered at the King’s booming voice.
The FFG pressed her lips together.
“You would use forbidden magic against a brother Fae?”
We all looked at the Prince for the first time and found his disdainful stare pointed at the Princess.
“I admit it was wrong,” Khalistah said to her father. “I was overcome by a rare fit of temper when I discovered the two humans were attempting to trick me and harm my reputation. We had an agreement.”
“An agreement that you would take a human consort?” her father bellowed.
A Fae girl made a gagging sound and the FFG’s cheekbones filled with a rosy blush.
“He has ever wanted to please me,” Khalistah explained. “He would be my pet, just as other Fae have.”
“That is not how it appears. This is a disgraceful moment, daughter of mine.”
She stepped toward him, pleading with her eyes and words. “Please, Father. Erase the memories of these witnesses so they will not know my shame. I had a weakness for the boy. Even you cannot help but feel affection toward the wee folk!”
The Prince let a sound of disgust escape and the Fae took steps back. Their faces were filled with fear at the prospect of having their memories taken, and aversion to the idea of affection toward humans.
“I am displeased, Daughter. You have left me no choice but to do that which I abhor.”
Khalistah shook her head and held out her palms. “Not me, King Father!”
“You, especially.” His voice sent a heated gust through the clearing and we all covered our eyes against it.
Martineth looked rattled for the first time all night. “My love. Do as you must to them. But not I.”
Just as she reached out for him, the King lifted his arms, encompassing each of the Fae before him. They all stiffened as if locked in place. The Summer King’s eyes flipped through colors, and sparks of static light flashed from his outstretched fingertips like a summer storm. Warm winds whipped around us. McKale and I stepped away, terrified. The Fae beseeched their King with their eyes, but their mouths could not move.
The King roared, “Ar oscailt intinn!” and sudden silence fell.
The wind settled and we watched as the Summer King wove his magic over the Fae, carefully saying the exact words to erase the video from their minds. He then paid special attention to Khalistah.
“You will forget you ever longed for the Leprechaun son of Brogan. Instead, you will now find yourself feeling affections for the Prince.”
I wanted to fall to the ground and weep.
The King’s attention shifted toward Rock. He turned his hands and the grasses unwound, retreated back into the earth. He beckoned Rock, who came forward with stiff movements.
I saw Cassidy try to rush to him, but Mom and Dad both grabbed her.
“Do you fancy yourself in love with the young Mason girl?”
Rock turned his head to her, and watching her face with a pained, heartbroken expression, he nodded.
The Summer King clenched his jaw. We were all so still. The relief I felt moments before had slipped away as tension filled my body again.