Fragile Eternity.pdf

definitely a faery.” She looked away from him, staring at a bench that seemed as if it was
carved of ivory. It was surrounded by tiny winged insects that shone like fireflies. They
moved in a blurring arc and vanished.
“Okay. In here I’m a mortal. So what am I to do? Do I just lie about?” Seth hoped that his
being a faery wasn’t going to make him turn into someone who parsed words so oddly.
Conversation with many faeries was infuriating. Sorcha was no exception.
She gave him another tolerant look—as if he were the one being difficult. “You will do
what mortals have always done for us: you will create.”
“Create?”
“Art. Music. Verse.” Absently, she ran a hand over the bench. The patterns on it reformed
under her touch. “Everything you need is available here. Whatever medium.
Whatever palette. Find inspiration and create something amazing for me.”
“So my price for immortality is weeks spent here doing what I enjoy doing?”
“Just”—she gave him a calculating look that he had seen on other queens’ faces—“don’t
disappoint me. I will have your passion in your creation, or you won’t leave.”
“No.” Seth’s temper piqued, and he took a step toward her. “A month per year. That is
the deal.”
“A month of fealty in Faerie was the deal. If you are to truly serve me, you will give me
true art. Nothing offered to fill the surface only. True art. True passion.” Her tone grew
gentle then. “Rest today, Seth. Tomorrow, I will return.”
There was something hidden in her voice, but before he could ask any questions, a gray
stone wall on the opposite side of the garden path opened. Devlin emerged from behind it.
Sorcha gave a sad smile to Seth that confused him. “A mortal shouldn’t be allowed the
autonomy and influence you’ve had. Three of the four courts have been touched by your
will. Balance needs to be reestablished. You are out of the natural order and so must be
nullified in some way. It is in everyone’s best interests.”
Seth suppressed a shudder as he looked from the High Queen to the waiting faery. Seth
had believed that the worst of the faeries belonged to Niall these days, but as he looked at
the placid expression on Devlin’s face, he wasn’t so sure.
The monsters don’t always look like monsters.
Devlin gestured for Seth to precede him through the stone doorway, away from Sorcha,
and Seth had to wonder just how far the queen’s lackey would go to “nullify” something
she declared out of order.
CHAPTER 27
Sorcha came to Seth’s room again the next day—and the three that followed. She’d stay
all day, for countless hours while he worked. They spoke of life and dreams, of philosophy
and art, of music he’d enjoyed and theater she’d seen. They walked in the garden. And
sometimes, she simply sat quietly meditating or reading while he painted or sketched. Seth
couldn’t imagine being away from her. If not for missing Aislinn, he could see himself
staying in Faerie. Out there, he had no real purpose, no direction, no family. He lived only
for Aislinn. In Faerie, he existed to create Art. He felt whole for the first time he could
remember, at peace and sure of everything. He’d come seeking immortality, but what he’d
found was more valuable.
Happiness. Peace. Home. It was tinged with an unending ache for Aislinn and a new
sorrow that he’d be leaving Sorcha at the end of the month. His choice to be a faery had
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