the courts. Inside them, light and shadow made up the next ring. In the very center, as the spoke of the wheel, the little seelie king puppet sat on a throne. Chains bound him to the throne, and his head drooped forward, shoulders bent. Though the puppet still had no features, it looked tired, defeated. The high king bound to his throne. I stared at Faerie laid out in this way, and then my father dropped his hands, and the scene vanished.
“Why has no one ever mentioned any of this before?” I asked, and frowned. “And if the high king has no court, then what about the planeweavers? There are supposed to be two changeling planeweavers in the high court.”
He grimaced. “There were. When the king learned that anyone with the gift of planeweaving was being systematically exterminated, he searched for those remaining with the talent. He found only two, both among the mortals, so he secreted them away and put them in a deep slumber, waking them only when needed.”
“That’s horrific.”
My father shrugged. “It is what it is.”
“Well, then where are they now?”
“Dead.” He looked past me, his gazing roaming over the multitude of revelers gathered for the festivities. He sighed. “You would think, in his overlong lifetime, he would have outlived some of his worst traits, but hubris and prejudice still plague him. When the fae were fading, Faerie dying, and the high king decided that the fae had to reveal themselves to this modern world to survive, he didn’t think the humans would accept us if they knew that some of the fae fed off nightmares. And, perhaps, if he were honest, he hated to see how well shadow had thrived even during the drought of belief that had caused most courts to weaken and fade. Shadow’s denizens reminded him most of the unseelie. So, before the magical awakening, he ordered the realm of dreams severed from the rest of Faerie. The changeling planeweavers were awoken, and they unraveled the threads binding dreams to shadows. But the task was too great for two mortals. Dreams are part of the human condition. Nightmares naturally conjured in shadows. Small threads proved difficult to fully sever, and the strain killed both planeweavers.”
I blinked as shock rolled over me. Then the reality that the only other two planeweavers were dead sank in. The realization hit me like stones, and I collapsed backward into my chair under the weight of them. That meant there was no one to learn from. No one to go to for help or guidance so I didn’t accidentally kill myself.
“It was tragic what happened to them, but it was also good they didn’t fully succeed. Those small strands still connecting dream to shadow have at least slowed the tragedy that came next. Though with them dead, it left no one to repair the damage.”
I just stared at him, still numb from the loss of my own hope.
“What do you see?” My father waved a hand toward the clearing behind me.
I turned, trying to spot what he saw. There were fae everywhere. They laughed and danced, ate and toasted, sang and cheered. There was merriment from corner to corner in the enormous clearing. A dozen or so yards away I spotted Falin, hanging back but keeping an eye on me. My father wasn’t looking in his direction, so I didn’t think that was what he meant.
“I see fae,” I finally said, turning back to him.
He nodded. “Yes, but there are too many solitary independents. There have never been so many unaligned fae before. There are too many fae in the light court and far too few in shadow. The balance is off, and I fear for Faerie if it continues. If Faerie becomes too unbalanced, will it shatter again?”
I studied the man across from me. With my shields closed, the glamoured face he wore was that of a stranger. But in truth, the face under the glamour was nearly as unfamiliar. I’d always known him to be calculating. To be scheming. But never to morosely ruminate.
“If it did, it would become something new again, right? Like in your story when it went from two courts to seven? Would that really be such a bad thing? From what I’ve seen, the courts could use an overhaul.”
His gaze snapped away from the crowd, sharpening as it landed on me. “I let you grow up mortal in a world full of change and with a short memory. This is not that