Tag / fae

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 29: The Shadow and the Shield

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. This is the direct sequel to FFM 27: Sleepless in Tír na nÓg. More notes at the end of the story.

Gráinne ran at her trainer, thrusting forward with her rapier. He easily parried the blow. “You’re being too obvious, Your Highness.”

She glowered and took a step back. “Fair.”

Scurry, her trainer was a svelte man with a busy red tail and fingers with an extra knuckle, lowered his sword. “You can’t let your emotions rule you on the battlefield, Ma’am.”

“I know.” She shook out her arm and resumed her stance. “Again.” 

He tipped his head one way, then the other. “No, I don’t think this will help you today. I think you need to hit something.” 

“I am hitting something,” Gráinne said through gritted teeth. 

Scurry’s tail waved playfully. “You haven’t managed to land a single hit on me yet. You’re a pixie in a tankard of ale.”

The comparison was not a flattering one. She was flailing with no real purpose, and couldn’t manage to get herself out of what she’d fallen into. But, unlike a pixie, Gráinne actually wanted to get out. 

“Again,” she demanded. 

“Very well,” Scurry said with a sigh. 

They sparred for two minutes more, until Scurry disarmed Gráinne and knocked her on her arse. He chittered, disappointed, then offered the princess a hand. “Let’s take a break. Then we’ll work on something new.”

“Fine.” Gráinne sheathed her sword and went to the wooden benches that ringed the practice yard. Unsurprisingly, Alex was sitting next to her gear “What are you doing here?” She snapped. 

“Waiting for you,” he told her. 

“And you couldn’t wait in the castle?” Gráinne took several gulps from her waterskin. “Find something to do with Uncle Lex.” 

Alex shook his head. “He had to help in the medical wing.” 

That explained it. Alex had never liked the medical wing, a dislike that had turned to dread since the war began. Uncle Lex, who’d been trained in both magical and mundane healing, was often called there on his visits to the castle. With their parents gone at the moment, Alex had few options for someone to tail. 

“Will you please stop following me?” Gráinne turned her back to him. 

“But Gráina…” He tugged on the hem of her tunic. 

She spun around and slapped him. “I said go away! How hard is it for you to just go away?”

This time, Alex listened. He ran back to the castle, holding his stinging cheek while tears ran down his face. 

Uncle Lex was called in for negotiations. The agreed upon course of action was bed with no supper for Gráinne, and a talk with Alex about “alone time,” for both Gráinne and himself. 

“We all need to be by ourselves sometimes,” Uncle Lex told the prince, while silently giving thanks that he didn’t have children. “I know you like to be with people, and I know that things are scary right now. It’s okay to be scared. But when your sister tells you she needs some space, you need to listen. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Alex looked down at his feet. “Okay.”

“Good.” Uncle Lex smiled at his nephew, and namesake. “I need to visit the library. Do you want to go with me, or go to your room for a little bit?” 

It was a hard decision: a room with nothing but books, or being left alone? After a minute, Puck said, “Can you find me another book about electricity?” 

“Can do.” 

“And read Caps for Sale and do funny voices?” 

Uncle Lex smiled. “Of course.” 

Later, when Alex was totally absorbed in a book about circuits, Uncle Lex went to check on his niece. She had flung herself on her bed and was crying. 

“Gráinne, I brought you supper.” Uncle Lex sat at the foot of her bed with a plate of battered fish and mashed potatoes. 

Gráinne sat up slowly. She wiped her cheeks and sniffed. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to have supper.” 

“You’re a growing girl. But no dessert.” 

Gráinne accepted the plate and silverware from her uncle. “Thanks.” She didn’t eat right away, but stared sullenly at her food. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.” 

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Uncle Lex put his hand on top of her head. “But it happened. Do you know why?” 

Tears swam in Gráinne’s eyes again. “Why can’t he learn to fight? Why do I have to?” 

“You don’t have to. You like to. Your brother doesn’t like it, and he’s not very good at it, so he doesn’t have to,” Uncle Lex said. 

“But if he could fight then maybe–” she hiccuped. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to protect him and…” 

Realization dawned over Uncle Lex. “And maybe he wouldn’t have fallen?” 

Gráinne nodded, tears falling from her chin. “I couldn’t protect him, and…and…”

Uncle Lex put his arm around his niece’s shoulders. “You did the best you could.” 

“But it wasn’t enough and we were only at the ruins ‘cause I wanted to go and…” She threw herself down on the bed, hiding her face in her pillow.

“Shh…shhh. It’s okay.” Uncle Lex rubbed her back. “You saved him, and you’re both safe. That’s the most important thing.” He gave Gráinne another minute to cry. When she finally raised her head and caught her breath, he said, “He feels safe with you. That’s why he follows you around so much.” 

Gráinne tipped her head to get a better look at her uncle. “You think so?”

“I know so.” 

Night fell, and with it came Alex’s nightmares. 

But when he woke up gasping, Gráinne was there, with a wooden sword in hand. She didn’t have the right words like her parents always seemed to, but she held up her sword so he could see it in the pale crystal light. “Go back to sleep,” she said. “I’ll keep all your nightmares away.”

Another challenge day!

CHALLENGE: IDIOMATIC

Element 1: Your story must contain an idiom or idiomatic expression; by which we mean an expression that is used non-literally. Confused? You’ll probably recognize some examples here.

Element 2: Your expression must be entirely made up.

A pixie in a tankard of ale = flailing, but not trying to hard to get out of the current situation. Fantasy lends itself very well to new idioms.

Other FFM stories from this universe:

FFM 3: Love is a Battlefield
FFM 8: Queen of Nothing
FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science
FFM 18: The Goddess in the River
FFM 24: Summer Blues

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 27: Sleepless in Tír na nÓg

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

The queens hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in over a month. No queen ever slept easy when their country was at war, but Fiadh and Mairead had another problem keeping them awake. A small, squirmy blond problem named Alexander. 

He’d always been a happy child, with a ready smile and a musical laugh. But then he’d fallen, and that cheerful, confident boy disappeared. It wasn’t surprising. He’d witnessed something that no child should see, trapped and alone. 

After that, Alex refused to be left alone for even a few minutes. When his mothers couldn’t spend time with him, he trailed behind his sister, Grainne. And if she couldn’t be with him, he’d go to the kitchens or follow the pages as they did their duties. 

Every night, Alex drank soporific tea to help him sleep. He would fall asleep peacefully in his own bed, then wake up screaming. The only way he could fall asleep again was snuggled between his parents, safe. 

It was getting to be a problem. 

Alex kicked in his sleep. He rolled. He slept sideways. 

And he still had nightmares. 

There was a tea for dreamless sleep, but it was a powerful blend, too stong for a child. If Alex drank too much, there was a chance that he’d be asleep for days. Fiadh had remarked that she and Mairead should down a few cups and actually get some rest. 

Then there was the matter of Grainne. She’s always been a serious girl, but she’d become sullen. She trained from dawn til dusk with any weapon she could get her hands on. She threw herself into magic practice, especially geomancy, which she’d always struggled with. 

As much as Fiadh and Mairead had tried to shield Alex and Gráinne from the war, it had found its way to them. And its touch had changed their children irrevocably. 

Things came to a head at breakfast one morning. “Mam and I need to leave for a few days,” Mairead announced. Alex and Gráinne looked up sharply. 

“We’re meeting with some potential allies,” Fiadh told them. 

“You can’t do that here?” Gráinne frowned. 

“This group hasn’t exactly been friendly with us in the past. It’s better to meet them on neutral ground,” Fiadh replied, then stabbed her sausage with such force that her fork scraped the bottom of her plate. 

“Better to have strange bedfellows than no bedfellows,” Mairead said. “Especially now. Uncle Lex is going to come stay with you for a few days.” 

Normally, they would have loved this. Uncle Lex spoiled the kids rotten and was something of a mischief-enabler for Alex. But at this announcement, Gráinne shoved her chair away from the table. “I’m going to the practice yard.” 

“Sit for a minute. Let’s talk about this,” Mairead started, but the princess was already gone. 

“I’ll grab her,” Fiadh offered, then started after Gráinne. 

Mairead looked across the table at Alex. He’d been voracious before, but now he stared at the food on his plate as if it were made of stone. “You know you’re safe here, right? Nothing will ever hurt you here. And Uncle Lex will keep you both safe.” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. 

“Do you really hafta go?” Alex asked, still staring at his meal. 

“I can’t let Mam go alone. But I will miss you and your sister terribly, even if it’s only for a few days.” 

“Then don’t go.” 

Mairead let out a small, sad sigh. “I’m not worried, mo stór. And do you know why?”

Alex finally looked up. “Why?”

“Because I know you and your sister will look after each other.” She smiled. “Whatever happens.” 

“But I can’t fight like she does.” 

“Taking care of someone isn’t just about fighting. It’s about being there.” She scruffed Alex’s yellow hair. “Do you think you can do that for her?”

Alex nodded. “I think so.” 

“Good.” Mairead stood up and kissed Alex’s brow. “You didn’t finish your breakfast…but I think there’s a bit of apple tart left over from last night. Should we share it with Mam and Gráinne?”

Alex shook his head. There was a mischievous glint in his eye that had been absent for too long. “They can have cold breakfast.”

Yep, another one. But, hey, I’m caught up now! Poor young Puck (Alex) had a bit of a traumatizing incident with far-reaching consequences when he was young. There were a couple images in my head of him trying to sleep after, and the first one is in here. The second one will be in the next part. I don’t love dividing my stories for FFM into multiple parts, but at 600+ words I didn’t think I’d be able to give the final scene the room it deserved.

Also, it’s around this time in his life that Alex started to be called Puck. He’s not quite there yet, though.

Other FFM stories from this universe:

FFM 3: Love is a Battlefield
FFM 8: Queen of Nothing
FFM 15: It’s Not Rocket Science
FFM 18: The Goddess in the River
FFM 24: Summer Blues

by booksoverlookedblog

FFM 8: Queen of Nothing

Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

July is Flash Fiction Month! I’ll be sharing short short stories here through the month of July. More notes at the end of the story.

You don’t usually get a choice of where to go when you’re exiled. You just leave in a hurry. Maybe I’m lucky in that regard. I could choose Dublin, or Niagara Falls. Two very different places, but both easily within the queens’ reaches, and filled with their allies.

I chose Niagara Falls. It remains a place of power, despite humans’ many attempts to tame it. It wasn’t the magic alone that made me choose it. I wanted to see the place my antín and her human fell in love, touch the wild waters that had saved her life.

Mamó should have let Antín Fiadh and her human stay here. If she had, my mother would be on the throne now, instead of in a grave. 

My first friends were the crows. I would sit by the water and toss them bread, hoping that one of them might be the Morrigan. I had a quixotic dream that the war goddess would find me and bring me home, raining fire and destruction down on the usurpers. She never came, of course. The gods rarely took sides in Otherworld conflicts anymore; one of them coming to the mortal realm was unthinkable. 

Crows possess many admirable traits. They’re intelligent, grateful, and vindictive. That makes for an excellent friendship. They brought me gifts – shiny tin foil, lost toys, even money on occasion. But their greatest gift to me was a path forward. 

It came to me in the shape of a young man, not human, but not Fae, either. The birds didn’t scatter when he approached, but flew to my shoulders and the bench. Staying close to me.

“Hi. I’ve seen you here a lot. I thought I’d introduce myself.” He waved. “I’m Paul.”

I wasn’t afraid, but I was cautious. “You’ve noticed me?” 

“I thought you might be…” he lowered his voice. “One of us?”

His glamour was weak. He looked human enough, but I could see the shimmer of a tufted tail he wasn’t entirely able to hide. I silently debated what I would tell him. If he was one of Antín Fiadh’s spies, he was doing a poor job of it. 

“Who’s ‘us’?” I asked. 

“You know…Gestalts. Us.” 

Gestalts – people with a mix of human and Fae blood. There were few in Tír na nÓg. The only two I knew of were Antín Fiadh’s children. That alone might have made me distrustful of Paul, but my loneliness was stronger than my caution. I hadn’t just lost my family. I’d lost my entire world. 

“You’re right,” I told him. “I am like you.” I didn’t give him my true name. Even in the mortal realm, names have power. Instead, I took inspiration from my avian friends. “Call me Korbyn.” 

We started meeting regularly, and soon Paul introduced me to his other Gestalt friends. “There’s a lot of people like us around. You just have to know where to look,” he told me. 

Things started to get easier. I still wept for my mother, meeting others with Fae blood eased my inner turmoil somewhat. I wasn’t happy, exactly, but I was finding my place, and there was comfort with my new friends. I started thinking that I might be able to make a life for myself in this world. I wouldn’t forget who I was or where I came from, but maybe I could make a future here. 

Until the day I saw them. Princess Gráinne and her younger brother, Alexander, walking through the park with their cousin-by-friendship. They were all laughing. They didn’t even notice me when they walked by. 

I felt the injustice of it all hit like a physical blow. The princess and prince still had their family. They could go between worlds anytime they chose. I had lost all of that because of who my mother was. 

I watched the prince as he passed by, and a realization struck me. I’d always thought that I had not been executed alongside my mother out of mercy. I was still young, and had no hand in her rebellion. But now, I understood the truth. 

The queens had no spare. 

Gráinne would be in line for the throne after her parents, but inheritance was strictly matrilineal. Alexander would never be king in his own right. If something happened to Gráinne…

The crown would fall to me. 

But how? How could I make it happen? 

The answer came to me the next night, when I was at a party with my friends. I was hardly in a festive mood, but I went anyway. As the night went on, Paul and I ended up next to each other on the couch. He’d drank too much, a plastic cup still in his hand. “Korbyn,” He mumbled, and rested his head on my shoulder. “Why do you feel like home?” 

I threaded my fingers through his wheat-colored hair. “Have you ever been to the Otherworld?” 

“You can’t get there from here,” he slurred. “I want to go. Everyone wants to go.” He looked up at me with glassy eyes. “How can you be homesick for a place you’ve never been?”

“I might know a way,” I said. “But it would take work. A lot of work.”

Paul tried to straighten up to show he was serious. “I can do the work.”

A slow smile uncurled across my face. Paul would be my first. There would be many, many others. 

Today’s challenge: bring forth the dice!

Element 1: Write a story centered around royalty.

Element 2: Roll a six-sided die. Can’t roll a physical one due to your location and/or lack of immediate access to one? No need to worry; we have digital dice too. The number you roll determines your protagonist’s station in the royal family as per the following list:

  • 1-2: The ruling monarch (e.g. king or queen)
  • 3-4: The heir to the throne (e.g. crown prince or crown princess)
  • 5-6: The heir next in line for the throne after the above heir (e.g. the lastborn child of the ruling monarch)

I rolled a 6, so the heir next in line after the previous heir. The royalty aspect of the story was easy to figure out, since the novel I’m working on is about a royal family. Yup, Gráinne’s and Alexander’s parents are Fiadh and Mairead! Korbyn (real name withheld for Fae reasons) is Fiadh’s niece and would be next in line for the throne of something terrible happens to Gráinne.

Korbyn would like to be that terrible thing.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 14 + 15

It’s the first post of 2019 and the last one for Tithe. 

In the penultimate chapter, we’re almost at the real climax of the book, with Kaye and Roiben leaving the Seelie Court to rescue Corny. I wouldn’t normally talk about the transition scene here, except for Kaye and Roiben’s conversation as they’re leaving the Seelie Court.

‘I’m here because you are kind and lovely and terribly, terribly brave,’ he said, his voice pitched low. ‘And because I want to be.’

She looked up at him through her lashes. He smiled and rested his chin on top of her head, sliding his hand over her back.

‘You want to be?’

He laughed. ‘Verily, I do. Do you doubt it?’

‘Oh,’ she said, mind unable to catch up with the stunning joy that she felt. Joy, that was, for the moment, enough to push the other sorrows aside. Because it was true, somehow, that he was here with her, and not with the Seelie Queen.

This is the first scene in the book that makes me think that their budding relationship is based on something more than lust, and the allure of the mysterious stranger you met on the side of the road.

When Roiben and Kaye get to the Unseelie Court, they learn that Spike is dead, and Nephamael has made himself king. I don’t think anyone feels bad about Spike getting killed. He never made himself likeable in the first place, and he wasn’t an important enough character to pay attention to.

They don’t really have much of a plan to get Corny back from Nephamael, but pretty soon Roiben’s opinion is moot. Nephamael learned Roiben’s name and uses it to take control of him. Kaye escapes, but Roiben remains in Nephamael’s command.

There’s a lot of situations in Tithe that are pretty intense. Maybe it’s because I’m older or because I’ve read the book a few times before, but very little in it scares me anymore. Except when Nephamael takes control of Roiben.

I’m not going to be ritually sacrificed by faeries, I think I’m smart enough now to avoid any teenage-like boyfriend shenanigans, and even driving isn’t that hard anymore. But Nephamael’s total control over Roiben is way more frightening than I remember it being. He’s ordered to humiliate himself and to “cut the pixie until she dies” when Kaye gets recaptured. The disturbing thing about this is that Roiben is totally conscious and aware of himself doing these things. He doesn’t want to do them, but has no choice. His body totally betrays his mind. The idea of not being in charge of my actions is scary, but that someone else could have absolute control over me is even worse. At some point, even I have to wonder, how much of me is really “in control”? How much of my life is actually dictated by me, and not, say, my boss, or my bank account?

But that line of thinking will probably lead me to some introspection and depression, and that’s not what we’re here for. What we are here for is to see Roiben and Corny get saved, right?

In discussing the last chapter, I talked about my disappointment in the shift from urban fantasy to just straight fantasy. I wanted to see Kaye’s world clash more with the fae world. I got a little bit more of that here. Kaye doesn’t know how to think like a pixie, and this works to her advantage. She poisons Nephamael with tiny iron nails from her boots, something she could have only gotten from the mortal realm. Nephamael dies, Corny and Roiben are free, and everyone’s a little closer to earning their happy endings.

I don’t think that this climax was bigger or more exciting than “escape from ritual sacrifice”, but I love that Kaye used her wits and resources to win the day. And, of course, that a girl saves the boys.

I’m combining my review for Chapter 15 as well, because I don’t think there’s enough in the final chapter to warrant a full post of its own. It’s basically a parlor scene wherein Kaye reveals the the Seelie Queen planned all this out, which should be intriguing, but is more confusing than anything. Roiben declares himself king of the Unseelie Court, and Kaye and Corny return to the mortal world.

The ending is bittersweet. Kaye and Corny are safe, but Janet is dead. Roiben and Kaye start a relationship, but it’s made clear throughout the book that kingship will not necessarily be kind to Roiben.

I like Tithe, but I don’t think it’s Holly Black’s best work. Reading it through again, it doesn’t feel as cohesive as it should. The charmed kissing scene was also pretty questionable for me. But it’s still and enjoyable book, and easy to get sucked into. I’ve read a few of Holly Black’s other books, including Ironside and The White Cat, and I think both are more polished than Tithe.

Tithe meant a lot to me as an adolescent. It introduced me to YA fiction and urban fantasy. I took a lot of inspiration from Holly Black and her stories. Even her webpage  had a lot of resources and inspiration for a teenage writer like me at the time. She helped me learn about the publishing industry and the writing process. But most important, she made me feel like I could be a writer, and that someone wanted to hear what I had to say.

That’s a wrap for Tithe! Next week I’ll be back with a final – yes, final – manga review, and then I’ll be moving on to a new project for the rest of the year. Thanks for sticking with me this far, may your new year be full of good books and free of human sacrifice.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 12: Driving a Wedge

-This is why I wanted more details – what, exactly, did they hate about the swearing fealty to the Court when freedom has led to chaos
-Did she and Roiben make any plans to help Corny? Where is he now?
-Killing Janet: more about the divide between Kaye and the fae than anything

We’re coming to the end of Tithe, and now that the main event’s over, where to we go from here?

To a rave, apparently.

Kaye needs to find Nephamael to save Corny, assuming that the latter is still alive. But it seems like she’s not in any hurry to get back to the Unseelie Court. Considering the mess she and Roiben left it in, I can’t say I blame her. She finds her fae friends: Spike, Lutie-Loo, and the Thistlewitch, looking to them for some guidance. Rather than getting any kind of wisdom from them, she discovers them celebrating the uncompleted Tithe and their newfound freedom, and a surprising degree of callousness.

‘I have no desire to be welcome among you, old mother,’ Roiben said, kneeling down on one knee in the soft earth. ‘I only wanted to know whether you were aware of the price of your freedom. There are trolls and worse that are delighted to be without any master but their own desires.’

‘And if there are, what of it?’ Spike asked, coming up from behind them. ‘Let the mortals suffer as we have suffered.’ [. . .]

‘So it’s us against them now? I’m not talking about the Unseelie Court, here. Since when are mortals the enemies of the solitary fey?’ Kaye said, anger bleeding into her voice again, making it rough.

Kaye’s exchange with Spike sums up the main conflict of this chapter, and her new inner struggle. She’s not worried about enchanting Janet’s boyfriend or being “weird” anymore. She’s a faerie who spent her whole life believing that she was human, and has no idea how to live as part of the fae world. She thought that this was going to be simple, and is only now coming to realize the trouble she’s caused, and how deep in she really is.

This point is further driven home at the end of the chapter, but I’m getting ahead of myself now.

As I mentioned in another post, one of the things that bugged me was that the rules for why the Tithe happened and why the solitary fey would submit to the Unseelie Court was never really explained beyond obscure faerie rules.  I really wish there was more backstory again, because the faeries are all pretty happy about being free. So why would they ever submit to the Tithe in the first place? Was there every any kind of resistance in the past, or attempts to stop the ritual similar to this one? I know I won’t get answers to these questions, nor do they come up in either of Tithe‘s sequels. I just wish there was something more than “because plot demands it”.

The meeting with the other fae at least gives Kaye some direction of what to do next, when she learns that the Seelie Queen will be coming to the area. They’re most likely to find Nephamael – and, with him, Corny – in the Seelie Queen’s court. Kaye realizes that her friends have no interest in setting things right or finding Corny, and that the only person she has to rely on is Roiben.

 

 

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 11: Aftermath

The movie Far and Away is the story of two Irish immigrants making their way in America during the 1890s. Towards the end of Act 2, the main characters are freezing and living on the streets of New York City. They break into an empty home where they could finally eat, but declare their love for each other and make out instead.

That scene drives me crazy. The food is right there, you haven’t eaten in days, and you’re going to ignore it so you can play house?

I think this illustrates why romance really isn’t the genre for me. Characters swept away by love when the solution to so many of their problems is right in front of them. I feel like so many protagonists in romance novels are just stupid.

That’s what bugs me about Tithe, even as we creep towards the end of the book. Roiben and Kaye have escaped the Unseelie Court with their lives, but Kaye is hardly worried about the consequences of the uncompleted Tithe or the death of the Unseelie Queen. When Kaye and Roiben kiss again, the scene is meant to titillate, but doesn’t exactly move the story along.

Kaye’s more concerned with getting things settled with Roiben: explaining the plan, and how she wanted to tell him she was a pixie but never got the chance. They have some of their most “normal” conversations so far during this chapter. I’ll admit, the awkwardness between the two now that they’re no longer in danger is pretty cute.

All this to say, romance really isn’t the genre for me. I like Tithe for the fantasy, but I could take or leave the romantic subplot. Maybe I’m just too old. I’m closer to 30 than 20, and no longer the YA target demographic.

Roiben, presumably older and wiser, at least, calls Kaye out on her skewed priorities.

‘Kaye, Faery is a place governed by a set of customs both severe and binding. What you have done has consequences.’

‘Everything has consequences,’ she said, ‘and the consequence of this is that the solitary fey are free again, you’re free, and the bad Queen is dead. That seems pretty over to me.’

Kaye doesn’t really understand what these “consequences” are until she sees several news stories detailing the chaos the solitary fae created on their first night of freedom.

Roiben spoke as he began to pace the room. ‘Everything is always easier when considered black and white, isn’t it? Your friends, after all, are good and wise, so all solitary fey must be good and wise. Your friends must have some respect and fear and knowledge of humans, so all solitary fey will follow in that example.’

Kaye has a hard lesson to learn, but doesn’t get much time to dwell on it. Kaye soon learns that Corny is missing and is still in the Unseelie Court, most likely with Nephamael.

I didn’t really think about this too much when I was a kid, but we have a gender reversal here. Instead of Kaye needing to be saved, it’s the girl going back into danger to save the guy.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 7: The Unseelie Court

At the end of the previous chapter, Kaye found her way into the Unseelie Court, and told Corny to stay behind because it wouldn’t be safe for him. She acknowledges, at least, that it’s probably also not safe for her, either. I’m really trying to find a way to justify Kaye’s impulse trip to the Unseelie Court, which is underneath a hill in a local cemetery. I can understand curiosity to a point, considering how much trouble it got her into when she removed her glamour. I’d like to say it’s some kind of fae instinct for her to seek out the dangerous unknown, rather than just checking it out to add plot points.

At first the Court is shown as something grand and wild, with strange beings and tantalizing foods. But Kaye soon learns that it’s dangerous as well, where “the worst of Faeryland came to drink themselves sick.” Kaye realizes that coming here was a bad idea when she sees a satyr pulling wings off a faerie. She also tries – and fails – to save a boy from being tortured. And Holly Black doesn’t skip on the gore. I thought I’d have hardened up a bit about this kind of thing lately, but I still flinched at the description of a nameless character getting stabbed in the eye, which then pops like a grape.

Kaye tries to retrace her steps and find her way out. Instead, she stumbles over a very drunk Corny, who’s followed her, against advisement. When he tells her that he’s seen Roiben, Kaye leaves Corny to spy on the faerie knight.

Kaye has every intention of going back to Corny when she’s done, but I’m not okay with her leaving him in the first place. If my friend is really drunk at a bar and a hot guy walks in, I do not go to the hot guy. I help my friend get home, and try to make eye contact with the hot guy on the way out. I don’t leave my drunk friend by herself, even if we’re regulars in the bar, even if we know the area well, even if she would probably be safe walking home.

Kaye knows the Unseelie Court is dangerous and has seen first-hand the viciousness of its inhabitants. It’s obvious that anything weak would be seen as a toy, something to destroy for amusement. A vulnerable, wasted human is a prime target. One of the complaints I’ve heard about Tithe is that the characters are too perfect, but Kaye is well and truly selfish for seeking out Roiben – who did not treat her well last time they met – over helping her friend.

Kaye finds a place to hide herself so she can overhear Roiben’s conversation with Nicnevin, the queen of the Unseelie Court. Here the point of view abruptly shifts from Kaye to Roiben. POV shifts can be really compelling, or become a crutch for the story. Since the story followed Kaye’s perspective so far, the change is rather jarring. Moreover, it’s unnecessary. Kaye overhears the conversation that Roiben has with the queen perfectly, so we’re not missing much by leaving out Roiben’s viewpoint. The main reason for the POV change was so the audience can see Roiben’s angsty inner thoughts. It shows us that even though he’s working for and evil faerie queen, he still has kindness left in him.

Except we don’t really need to get inside his head to know that. It doesn’t take a genius to see  that he loathes working for Nicnevin, judging by Kaye’s first two encounters with him. We can also see that Roiben’s retained some of his compassion when he helps Kaye sneak away before the queen sees her, when other fae would be more than happy to make an “example” of her.

The only new information we gain from the perspective change is the introduction of another character, Nephameal. Nephamael is Roiben’s counterpart in the Seelie Court. Originally Nicnevin’s knight, he and Roiben changed places as part of a truce between the two Courts. And Nephamael has “villain” written all over him. He wears a cape lined with thorns and an iron circlet, which has burned his skin around his forehead. What is that about? Is this fae self-harm? Is it for intimidation? What is Nephamael’s deal, exactly?

Spoiler: We never really learn, and I’m kind of bummed about it.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 5: Roll Credits!

In this chapter of Tithe, we get some of the answers that both Kaye and the reader have been wondering about. For example, where have Kaye’s faerie friends been, and why did Roiben kill one of them? These are far from the only things Kaye has on her mind when she is awakened at night by Lutie-Loo and Spike, her childhood friends. They take her to see the Thistlewitch, thus far the closest thing Kaye has to a fae mentor.

I really like the variety of Fae in this book, of all different…races? Species? What exactly do you call the different categories of fae? Either way, Lutie is what most people would think when they hear the word “faerie”. She’s small and silly, and flies on iridescent wings. Spike is more feral and rugged, and the less kind of the two. The Thistlewitch has only a minor appearance in the book, but she also has a wild appearance, with reeds and briars covering her.

The Thistlewitch tells Kaye that she is a changeling, or a fae that was glamoured to look like a human, and left in place of a human child. Kaye takes the news surprisingly well at first, saying that it all makes sense, considering her unintentional magic. She gets over the shock pretty quickly, not even bothering to question her friends about her origins. For me, she just accepts it way too easily.

There’s a couple reasons that I’ll give this one a pass though, and the first is that faeries cannot tell lies.Having fae friends during her childhood, Kaye would have likely known about this rule, so she wouldn’t have any reason to disbelieve what they’re saying. The second is that curiosity gets the better of her later in the chapter, and she acts more like a teenager who’s just been told their entire life is a lie.

Later in the night, Kaye does remove her glamour, against the advisement of the Thistlewitch, and discovers what her “true self”, such as it is, looks like. Grass-green, with liquid black eyes and an extra knuckle on each of her fingers. Kaye doesn’t know how to put her glamour back on, and can’t find anyone to help. She winds up finding Corny to help her out. Their friendship might have seemed unlikely, but thinking about it, Corny is the perfect person to go to. He’s a well-established nerd, and if there was anyone I’d want on my side in a situation, it’d be a fantasy geek.

In other words, I may never be a fantasy heroine, but at the very least, I’d be a great genre-savvy sidekick.

The Thistlewitch explains exactly why they had to bring Kaye back to New Jersey and reveal her true nature: She is going to be selected for an Unseelie ritual known as the tithe, in which a mortal is sacrificed by the Unseelie Court of fae. When the ritual is complete, it will bind the fae without a court to the Unseelie Court for…reasons?

There’s a lot of lore in this chapter, and my background as a fantasy geek means that I can keep up with a lot of it. But I was never totally clear on why, exactly, the solitary fae are bound to the Unseelie Court. Even if the Thistlewitch tries to explain:

‘Why do the solitary fey trade their freedom for a human sacrifice?’

‘Some do it for the blood, others for protection. The human sacrifice is a show of power. Power that could force our obedience.’

‘But won’t they just take you back by force then?’

‘No. They must obey the agreement as we do. They are bounded by constraints. If the sacrifice is voided, then we are free for seven years.’

That’s one of the things about fae lore: a lot of it is just ‘because I said so’. It’s one of the things that make them so interesting to write and read about: there are a lot of rules they have to obey, and fae are clever tricksters who find ways to bend those rules without breaking them. This is exactly what’s happening here: the tithe will be performed, but voided once they discover that the sacrifice is a faery, not a mortal.

But I still wish there was a better explanation than that.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 3: YA Parenting Tips

After a run-in with magic and a literal faerie knight, Kaye’s life returns to the mundane. For the most part, anyway. The majority of this chapter gives us a snapshot of what Kaye’s life looks like now that she’s in New Jersey. There’s only a few hints of otherworldly fae in this chapter at all. The first comes at the beginning of the chapter, when Kaye dreams of the old faerie friends that visited her as a child. It’s a weird and eerie scene, and I’m still not sure what some of the images in it are supposed to represent. But, it’s a dream, and doesn’t have to make sense.

The only other instance of magic is when Kaye receives a note from her old friends, delivered via acorn. The note informs her that one of her fae friends is “gone” and that “everything is danger”.

One thing I realized I liked about this book as that Kaye never really stopped believing in her so-called imaginary friends, Spike, Lutie, and Gristle. When she comes back to New Jersey, she still looks for them and wants them to come see her. Janet has accused Kaye of making up stories about them, saying they weren’t real, but Kaye never says they were fictional. This saves us a lot of time: she doesn’t need to be convinced they are real so that she can start the adventure. There’s no point in denying them, since the reader already knows that this is a fantasy story that will involve faeries at some point.

Throughout the day, Kaye contemplates the note, but mostly ends up daydreaming about Roiben. This is something I would normally give a female protagonist crap for, but I was a sixteen-year-old girl once, doing the same kind of thing. Coming home giddy after finding common ground with a boy and quickly developing crushes were just part of my repertoire of tricks. But I think Kaye is balanced out better than other lovestruck teenage girls in YA novels. Her romance with Roiben is the B-plot of the book, and there’s enough pushing her – finding out what happened to her friend Gristle, for instance – that her story’s interesting, and not all about the boy. So I’ll allow some daydreaming on her part.

And though Kaye acts like a teenager, so does her mother. This is a trend I’ve noticed in YA novels: the majority of the time, the protagonist’s parents are totally incompetent, out of the picture or distant, if they even bother appearing in the story at all.

I paused while writing this to take a look at the YA and middle-grade novels sitting on my bookshelves and think about the protagonists’ parents in each one. In several of them, the parents are dead or mysteriously absent throughout. In fact, the only novel I could find (though I’m sure there are others) which heavily featured parents was The Book Thief, where Liesel’s strong bond with Hans is one of the book’s main themes.

Kaye’s father is absent, but Kaye’s mom doesn’t really fit any of the aforementioned categories. She loves her daughter and stays in her life, but she’s also selfish and immature. She’s been drunk or drinking in all her appearances so far, and still dreams of the day she “makes it” as a musician. She even looks down on old friends who have gone “respectable” by starting a business of their own and leaving music. In some ways, she’s more childish than her teenage daughter. That said, I do like her relationship with Kaye. She obviously cares for her daughter, even if she doesn’t understand just how to take care of her.

I only noticed this trend after a friend (who is also a mom and a YA author) asked just why so many parents are so bad at taking care of the protagonists. That is, if they haven’t died horribly before story begins. The best answer I could come up with is that parents who are really paying attention to their kids lives are not going to let them go off to magical danger zones so they can save the world.

Dead parents are a catalyst for adventure, neglectful parents allow the adventure to happen, and dedicated parents are obstacles.

So if you discover that your child is part of some world-saving prophecy, just leave ’em alone. They’ll be fine.

by booksoverlookedblog

Tithe 2: Tall, Dark, and Brooding

I really expected that the magic of re-reading Tithe for the first time in years would be gone as soon as Kaye stumbled across her love interest, Roiben. I opened the book, armed with my incredible ability to nit-pick everything, and came away more or less satisfied with the second chapter.

No, let’s be honest, I got totally sucked in again.

It didn’t really start that way, though. Kaye flees the carousel and her own embarrassment, and starts on her way home. She’s more upset about how she made the broken carousel horse stand up on its own than about Kenny groping her, which makes sense, I guess, but in her situation, that’s not the thing I’d be hyper-focusing on. When she does think about Kenny, she’s more worried about what Janet will think, and what Kenny will tell people.

But the opening of the chapter is rendered less frustrating to me thanks to the lovely descriptions of Kaye’s walk home. I can vividly picture the wet woods at night, walking through the rain in the dark, cold and scared. I’m really envious of Holly Black’s descriptive abilities. She can make the scene come to life and paint a picture with her words, without making it drag on.

As Kaye makes her way home, she comes across a beautiful wounded man. She realizes that he is a faerie, but not like the faeries that were her childhood friends. The ones she had seen as a child were small and mischievous and playful, what most people would think of when they hear the word “faery”. Roiben, who Kaye finds here, is tall and handsome, more a warrior elf than a fun-loving sprite. The modern idea of fae is more like what we see in Disney movies: beautiful winged women granting wishes and turning you into a princess or a real boy. Tinkerbell may actually be closer to a traditional fae, with her jealousy nearly leading to the death of Wendy.

But for the most part, that Disney idea was what I grew up with. Charming creatures that would help you with your housework and friendly elves that made toys and shoes. A character like Roiben, in my book, was an entirely different species, like an elf from Lord of the Rings. Tithe was my first real introduction to the more traditional look at faeries, seeing their dark and dangerous side that went hand-in-hand with their beauty.

Roiben, by the way, was exactly what my fourteen-year-old self was looking for. Tall, handsome, dark and mysterious. He was in pain, he was broken, and I found that irresistible. Five years later, I found my own beautiful angsty man and knew that I could fix him, that I could be the light to his darkness.

If there are any teenage girls out there reading this now: I do not recommend attempting this. You cannot fix him, you will only get hurt in the process. Love your tall, dark, and brooding man in fiction, and leave him there.

Before I finish up this post, there is just one thing I need to point out.

She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding.

It’s not a bad line, and I can’t think of a better way to describe that sudden un-tightening of your chest after your see relief from a tense situation. But this line is used so much in fiction that it’s almost become another character. I know I’m guilty of using it way too much.

To be totally honest, this is probably something I would have never noticed, if not for one of my favorite tweets ever.

Someday I want to write a YA novel where the main character lets out a breath she knew damn well that she was holding.

P.S.: I’m on Twitter, like all the cool kids: https://twitter.com/nortonwriter14