Not Quite Human

Chapter 7

Nerezza was making Neil's pendant at her workbench, assembling the components with practiced precision: a feather from a Threstal's wing, the blood of a hummingbird, a platinum coin, a single hair from Neil's head, four poisonous Fenris berries, and three leaves from Auscicles — one of the oldest trees in the Unseelie Court. She fed the base spell into a black pearl and dropped it into the concoction.
The mixture simmered. Its ash-grey colour deepened, then shifted suddenly to a vivid green, before settling into something clear and colourless. Nerezza peered in, curious.
The black pearl had transformed. Silver tendrils now wound across its surface in intricate, shifting patterns — not quite any recognisable shape, but somehow deliberate. Attached to it was a single feather, green shading just barely toward blue. She strung the whole thing and handed it to Neil.
He stared at it. It was genuinely beautiful — the silver patterns moving and rearranging as though the stone were breathing, occasionally interrupted by a small swirl of red.
"That," Nerezza said, "is a pet stone. Nearly every fey of age carries one. It's what we feed our most-used spells to — the ones we can't be bothered to hold up consciously. I've fed it a concealment spell for now, so your wings and those pointed ears of yours will stay hidden as long as you wear it." She studied the pendant in Neil's hands. "All pet stones have a soul of their own. They reveal themselves when they're ready, and they can take humanoid or other forms if they choose to. Take good care of yours — that shade of green tells me he's going to be quite spirited."
She held up her own pet stone for comparison. Its feather was nearly black, the silver threads moving across it with something that almost resembled aggression — a deeply majestic quality to the whole thing that was impossible to ignore. Nerezza smiled. "Meet Alaster. The proud executioner. One of the seven lords of the Abyss."
Alaster pulsed once in acknowledgement.
They returned to the library, Neil turning the pearl over in his fingers, enjoying the soft weight of it. Nerezza settled in across from him and gave him what she considered a reasonable overview of fey society.
"So," Neil said, after listening for a while, "there are two teams — one with all the scary evil people and their terrifying queen, and one full of goody-two-shoes with a very nice queen?"
Nerezza smiled. Most people assumed that, initially. It was consistently entertaining. Lady Legasus was more than capable of cruelty — the fountain in the garden being a mild example of her particular sense of humour. And Ballona, for all her fearsome reputation, had her rare moments of something approaching kindness. Santa Morpheus Clause had belonged to the Seelie Court before he launched the Spirit Revolution. Many banshees who served the Unseelie Court were quite harmless — simply very, very gloomy.
"Then why have two courts at all?" Neil asked.
Nerezza laughed. If only life were that straightforward. She told him that pledging to a court wasn't even compulsory — there were plenty of neutrals and nomads. In fact, she'd prefer he didn't pledge to either, given the bloodstone incident and the general hostility that surrounded blood fey. Things would be considerably less complicated that way.
Neil pouted. He'd been rather hoping to join the Seelie Court. Ogle at some heroes. Be generally impressive. It was just too bad things weren't black and white — and too bad the Avengers weren't real either.
"Which court does Damien belong to?" he asked, aiming for casual and probably not quite achieving it. He'd barely seen Damien since starting here. Not that he cared. The pompous prince clearly considered a librarian beneath his notice. He didn't care one bit.
Nerezza noticed his expression and said nothing about it. She happened to know that Damien had been compelled by his brother to attend trade negotiations with Fiory, the neighbouring kingdom — but she kept that to herself. Watching the boy simmer was one of her quieter pleasures. Alaster chuckled, his deep voice resonating somewhere in the back of her mind. Apparently she wasn't the only one.
"Damien is neutral — pledged to neither court. And he isn't entirely fey, as it happens. One of his ancestors came from the Abyss — the place where the spirits within pet stones reside before they're summoned. What humans tend to call demons."
Neil let out a slow breath. Fey, now demons. A few days was not nearly enough time to process the discovery that his entire life had been built on false foundations. He found himself half-expecting a unicorn to materialise out of thin air shouting something cheerful while defying the laws of physics entirely. At this point it wouldn't have surprised him.
Then he heard a laugh. Inside his head. Clearly and distinctly.
He froze. His eyes went wide. If he was hearing voices now, he needed a break — urgently. He gathered himself, tucked the pendant safely inside his collar, and headed for home — wings hidden, ears rounded, looking for all intents and purposes almost entirely normal.

Nerezza decided to walk part of the way with him before peeling off to attend to some overdue business. Sailee had accumulated a few pests that needed clearing out. Alaster hummed his approval — he had been patient long enough. He shifted himself into a long scythe, Nerezza's weapon of preference, and settled into waiting.
It didn't have to wait long. A basilisk was watching them from the shadows at the mouth of the alley — large, ancient-looking, powerful enough to make things interesting. Most creatures had the sense to avoid Nerezza. This one either didn't know better or didn't care.
Nerezza smiled slowly. Either way suited her just fine.