The Iron Sword (The Fae War Chronicles Book 1) by Jocelyn Fox

bidding.” She actually sounded pleased. “That will stand you in good stead at the Court, although I can tell you that the Sidhe are not nearly so susceptible to flattery as I am.”
    “And I am sure the Sidhe will also not be quite as beautiful as you are,” Molly replied without skipping a beat, only a slight smile betraying her amusement.
    Glira fluttered her wings. “Enough. I will tell you all.” She circled and hovered around the circle of small stones, clearly interested in the chocolate placed in the middle. “And when I tell you, I expect that I will be….rewarded.”
    “After you tell, not before,” said Molly gently but firmly. She said in a quiet aside to me, “Glira can’t take the chocolate until she holds up her part of the agreement, once she’s inside the circle.”
    “Very well,” Glira said, unperturbed by Molly’s conditions. She alighted gracefully in the stone circle, perching on one of the border-stones as Molly carefully completed the pattern.
    Molly sat down on the ground, leaning back against the rock she had used as a seat. I followed suit, folding my legs Indian-style, ready to hear more about this situation in the faery-world, or whatever it was that they called it.
    “We’re listening,” Molly said.
    “Very well,” Glira said again. Her voice changed, taking on a lower, more authoritative tone as she began her story. “Our time is not reckoned as your time, so I do not know exactly when the story begins. But suffice it to say it was probably around the time that you were born, Molly. The story of your birth and your lineage is not mine to tell. I will leave that to the Knight of the Dark Court that will be coming to collect you tonight.”
    Molly saw me furrowing my eyebrows and shook her head, warning me not to interrupt.
    “The Lady of the Dark Court sent me to watch over you, and the Queen of the Bright Court sent Trillow. After all is said and done, Trillow and I have no quarrel with one another. We are not beholden to either Court except when we choose to put ourselves in their service. One just has to find the right fee, and a trooping faery will be glad to perform most tasks.” Glira glanced significantly at the foil-wrapped chocolate. “Obviously the fee for watching over you, my dear Molly, was most extravagant. But after those first years, after the summer in these hills, I would have watched over you for nothing.”
    The fondness in Glira’s voice made me smile. Perhaps these faeries wouldn’t be so hard to deal with after all—they seemed to possess the same kinds of emotions and attachment as we mere mortals.
    “But when you were on the brink of womanhood, we were called back by the Courts. Trillow, especially, was most distressed, since it was the Court to which she was beholden that had experienced the upheaval.”
    “I thought I had killed you both somehow, or that you were angry at me for telling the school psychiatrist that you didn’t exist,” Molly said softly in a voice barely above a whisper.
    “No, my dear. We allowed you to think that we were angry. We chose the day of our leaving very carefully. It was a necessary precaution. The Courts were in upheaval.” Glira flew a little around the ring of stones in agitation. “Suffice it to say that I know very little about the cause of the strife. That story, too, belongs to the Sidhe.” She stopped in the center of the ring again. “All that I can tell you for certain is that there is such tension between the Courts, between the Dark Lady and the Bright Queen. Even the trooping faeries, we have started to feel it, this war that is coming.”
    “War?” Molly breathed.
    Glira’s glow dampened a little. “Yes. That is what it is going to come to. There has always been some amount of conflict between the two Courts, but in past years it has been settled in genteel manners as the numbers of the Sidhe have dwindled. But this war is not between the Courts.”
    “Why are there less Sidhe now than