A Lovely Light by Kelly Sandoval

Author:Kelly Sandoval [Sandoval, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

By the time I find my way back to Tyson’s car, the sun is setting, and the roses on my dress have shed every last petal, leaving me in a skirt adorned only in thorns. I open the door, and sit down, tuning out Tyson’s scolding his “where have you been” and “I searched the whole damn place.”

I have had enough of these demands. Echo imagines freedom in the dying lands, but I find myself walking between competing courts, each expecting my attention. I want to go home, where only Eteir commands me.

“You’re okay?” he asks at last. “Please, Rumor, at least tell me you’re okay.”

I close my eyes and see Echo’s face, gone strange. Feel his rough fingertips on my cheek. Remember the fever-bright light in his eyes.

Not his. The changeling’s. It’s this Zach, doing it to him.

“I am well.”

We drive, Tyson’s fingers drumming an urgent rhythm on the wheel, the city growing small behind us, the magic leaving me, breath by breath. When every sense of the changeling’s magic is gone, the last remnants exhaled on a sigh, I feel like I can almost face what’s happened.

“We’ll have to find another way,” I say. Which means, we have to find another changeling. It’s an unpleasant thought. I have never thought to fear them. Now, I can’t seem to do otherwise. I sent a monster to Eteir’s court. Who knows what ill she brought with her.

“Where were you?” Tyson asks. “Did you find the fae you were looking for?”

Almost, I tell him. I need to talk to someone, and there Tyson sits, so eager to listen. But the truth goes beyond Echo, and it is nothing he’ll want to hear. I can’t simply tell him that changelings are monsters, not when he believes he loves one as a sister. Perhaps she found it easy, making him care for her. They seem skilled at twisting people.

“He won’t help me,” I say. “The fae I found. I couldn’t make him understand. Couldn’t get him to see—It doesn’t matter. Echo still needs me. I’ll have to find another way.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know how worried you are about your friend. I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Get you both home.”

The words are so unexpectedly kind, but he speaks them so lightly. His hands remain on the car’s wheel. He does not reach for me or even try to take my hand.

So why this warmth? Why do I want to thank him, this foolish man who mourns a monster?

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll get you your changeling back.”

Because surely, she’s the one he really cares about.

“Sierra’s not mine,” he says. “She’s hers. Always has been. God knows I try to take care of her, but she’s never been one to let me.”

“Sometimes, people don’t know how much they need you,” I say.

“Maybe.” Tyson’s tone is all fondness. “But sometimes, maybe we need them more. I don’t know. You say Sierra’s safe. That she can handle this. And I know you’re right. She’s never really needed me there, smoothing the road.

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