The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

the numbers as soon as something magical crossed their path.

They passed through a part of the forest darkened by a canopy so thick no light broke through the trees. She hopped over a log and gasped when a creature raised a horned head. Its legs were that of a goat, its face sloped with a flattened nose. Twin ram horns grew out of its skull and circular tattoos swirled over its cheeks.

The faerie bowed its head, sagely nodding in her direction. She saw its overly large eyes widen when it realized it couldn’t see her face.

They burst from the darkness and followed a river snaking through the forest. The trees were larger here, the size of a castle in width, but short and stout. Their branches were twisted into pathways where faeries walked across the twined wood. The faeries captivated her with their odd forms, their beautiful faces, and the grace with which they moved.

The Unseelie reached into his pack and pulled out a cloak. He wrapped it around her shoulders with a curt nod. “Best not to attract attention.”

Aisling pulled the hood of the cloak low over her face. The last thing she needed was for someone to question why they couldn’t see her face. There wasn’t a very good answer.

A woman toiled in her garden, gently fanning her lettuce with giant butterfly wings. A man walked past them with pointed ears and mushrooms growing from his shoulders. Over and over again, new and impossible features filled her senses until she was near to bursting.

Aisling reached forward and tugged the Unseelie’s sleeves. “Are they all like this?”

“All?” He glanced over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. “This is the Unseelie court, witch. Only the ugly and deformed live here.”

Her jaw fell open as he walked away from her. Ugly? Deformed?

She raced to catch up to him, feet nimble as she ran over tree roots and fallen stumps. “Ugly? But these creatures are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

“Tell that to the Seelie court.”

“But I thought—” She paused as a lumbering beast walked past them. “My grandmother always said that Seelie or Unseelie was a choice.”

“Sometimes. Other times, a creature doesn’t fit in with what the Seelie court deems appropriate.” He rolled his eyes, the raven eye continuing to roll when the other stopped. “Half the Unseelie are here because they aren’t beautiful enough. The other half degraded when they stopped following the Seelie court’s rigorous rules and did what they wanted.”

Aisling furrowed her brow and thought about those implications. The Seelie court was rumored to be filled with the most beautiful creatures to ever live. It made sense they would condemn those who did not fit into their idea of beauty. But why? What was the point?

“Unseelie…” she began.

“I’m not explaining it any further, witch. Keep your attention on your feet until we get through this part of the forest.”

When she stopped, Lorcan wound through her legs. He looked up at her with dilated eyes. “He’s probably right. There’s too many people who could overhear what we’re talking about.”

She shook her head. “I don’t like it. He’s hiding something.”

“Not everyone is trying to pull the wool over your eyes.” He flicked his tail. “If you loosened up a bit, you might see that.”

“You’ve told me that a thousand times, and I’m still the same person I was years ago.”

“Don’t you think that might be the problem?”

Aisling frowned and called after him, “This isn’t about me!”

The small faerie hovels fell away behind them, and the sound of the forest filled her ears. Birds didn’t chirp here; they sang. Their voices lifted up like a choir. She found her steps skipping to mimic the song.

Why hadn’t she come to the Otherworld before when she’d opened the portal for the redheaded woman? It was marvelous and far more than she had ever expected from a place rumored to be cursed.

The sun dipped below the horizon, pink and vibrant red filtering through the canopy. Each tree shifted from summer to autumn. A few leaves fell around her, and Aisling gasped as branches coiled in on themselves.

“What is happening?” she asked.

“It’s night,” the Unseelie replied. “They’re going to sleep.”

“They sleep?”

“Everything is more alive in the Otherworld than it is in the human realm. Trees are just as aware as you or I.”

Aisling reached out and slid her hand along the bark of a particularly large tree. “Thank you for not squashing me with a root.”

A shimmering fall of leaves rained down on her head. Glowering, she picked leaves out of her hair while the Unseelie burst into laughter.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled.

“Yes, it is. The trees are laughing at you, witch. They don’t mean any harm.”

Laughing? The branches were shivering, but she had thought they were annoyed, not laughing. She backed away from the tree slowly, then raced after Lorcan and the Unseelie. The sound of their chuckles filled the air and gave her an easy trail to track.

She found them setting up camp for the night in a valley between roots thicker than people. Hand over feet, she clambered down into the hollow and sat down hard on her rump.

“Fire?” she asked.

“In a forest of trees?” Bran chuckled.

“Good point.” Unnerved, she patted the nearest root. “I wasn’t thinking. Not particularly friendly to suggest burning your castoffs, is it?”

A sudden burst of light flared in the center of the hollow. Flinching back, she backed against a root. Blue flames crackled bright as a bonfire and nearly as tall.

“I thought you said no fire?” she cried out.

“Faerie fire is different. It doesn’t burn.” Flames danced in his eyes that sparkled with humor.

“You enjoy unsettling me, Unseelie.”

“A little too much.” He leaned back against a root nearby, crossed his legs at the ankles, and wiggled to wedge himself farther into the ground. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m not eating faerie food if that’s what you’re offering.”

He waved a hand in the air, a perfect apple forming in his palm. “Shame. Faerie food is far superior than human