The Veil between the worlds shimmered in the dark of the cave. It swirled in spiral patterns, as if trying to stitch itself back together after someone had torn it open in a violent hurry.

Valerien sighed. Only Lioren could have left such damage behind. If he’d just made enough of an opening to let out one or two people at a time, the barrier would have healed by now, and maybe no one would have even noticed.

Cursing his brother as an impatient bastard, Valerien pressed his hands against the Veil and focused. The familiar magic beneath his fingers was cool and delicate like the finest silk, yet felt threadbare. The expected but dreaded cry of shattering souls rang in his ears. He bit his teeth together. It had once filled his nightmares.

The noise and movement slowly abated until the surface was clear again. The place on the other side of the passage looked like a mirror image of the cave in the Fae realm. Beyond it, however, he could see a forest clearing stretching out in that unbearably bright sun of the mortal realm.

What had possessed his brother to go to that savage place?

Reports from his own soldiers claimed Lioren had ordered a retreat and married Antha in a sacred grove. It all sounded like something a brain-addled bard would make up. Lioren was a man in his prime, not some newly created Fae who believed in poetic nonsense about star-crossed lovers and long sighs in moonlight. It was preposterous

Footsteps on the other side made him look up in hope. Someone was lingering at the entrance to the cave. For a heartbeat, the shimmer of golden hair made him think his brother was returning, but his hopes were dashed instantly. The man on the other side was tall and blonde, but the hair was too short, the clothes too rough, and the build too light. It was probably just one of those mad human witches who always lingered nearby, drawn to magic they could never comprehend.

He focused back on repairing the Veil. A soft melody rose from the other side. The human had sat down and was plucking the strings of a lyre, trying out verses.

Valerien groaned. The last thing he needed to make his day worse was a pestilential bard. The playing was passable, the voice quite pleasant, but the verses were dreadful. The fool was trying to rhyme “silver” with “quiver”.

Such inefficiency. He had to go. Valerien sent a small amount of energy through a crack in the Veil. That should be enough for someone of that timid species.

Yet when the stone under the bard’s bottom cracked, a light burst from him like the glow of hundreds of fireflies. He hurried towards the barrier, as if he knew exactly where the magic had come from.

Valerien was about to eliminate the nuisance, but stopped as he saw the face opposite him.

His mother had dragged him to the mortal realm when he was younger, but he had never seen a human like this one before. The better-looking among them could pass for a Low Fae in poor light, but whatever they looked like in their prime, all of them wilted after just a few decades and started looking like goblins before they died.

This one, however,  had such beautifully sculpted features that he could almost pass for a High Fae. Only those wide blue eyes would betray him. No Fae’s eyes held such foolish innocence since the day of their creation.

That glow seemed unusual, too. The pretty fool ran his hands along the barrier like a blind man searching for something. The small lights were all gathering at the height of Valerien’s chest.

What kind of magic was this?

He took two steps to the left. The firefly glow followed, entangling itself into the Veil as if trying to get to him. Valerien cursed. The last thing he needed was a mortal mage stumbling into the Fae realm.

 He extended his hand again to shut the barrier down. The hand on the other side shot upward and aligned with his.

He froze in shock as the Veil began to thin.

String-callused fingertips moved against his palm in an intimate caress before they intertwined with his own. The sensation spread up his arm like intoxicating wine. Blue eyes met his, wide with awe, as if the man could truly see him.

Then the hand tightened and pulled, as if trying to draw him through.

Valerien came to his senses. Fire burst from his palm, forcing the man to retreat with a yelp.

The Veil flickered, then closed between them again.

Valerien stepped back, trying to steady his breath. What madness was this? How could this creature reach through the Veil?

Before he could collect his thoughts, an impatient voice interrupted him from the entrance. “What is taking you so long?”

Without waiting for an answer, Elinor came forward and peered through the Veil.

The bard just stood there, looking reproachful like a rejected lover and shaking his burned hand. He still didn’t seem suitably afraid.

“You drive us on like there’s no tomorrow, and then linger to play with some pretty toy,” she sighed.

“I am not playing,” Valerien replied irritably. “We can leave in an hour.”

The human carefully laid his burned hand against the Veil, and the glow alighted again.

Elinor frowned at the red skin and blisters and said reproachfully, “You broke your toy already. Can he see us?”

“No. He should only be able to see a stone wall. But it seems he can feel where we are,” Valerien mused, watching the spots of light divide between him and Elinor.

She poked at the light, but it stayed on the other side. “Not bad-looking for a human. What a shame we have to kill him if he’s still there when we cross.”

Valerien regarded the bard thoughtfully. If he could track Fae magic even through the barrier, he could be useful.

It also still worried him that he had no explanation for why the Veil had opened against his will when the human’s hand had found his. He glanced at his palm. The memory of fingers caressing his skin brought back the strangely intimate sensations. He dug his nails in to drive them away.

Such a pretty little bird. What a pity he would have to wring its neck eventually.