Dreams of Darkness

by D L Pitchford et al.

  “Might I ask what happened to your eyes?” Meridia moved her hand back and forth in front of the Sea Hag’s face as she tried to quell her fear of the creature’s appearance.

  “You mean to tell me, you came here just to ask me what happened to my eyes? Be on your way.” The Sea Hag turned away, dismissing her.

  “Please, I’m sorry,” Meridia pleaded, ashamed she had judged the Sea Hag on her abilities based on her appearance when Meridia’s own appearance would make most others cringe and pull away in fear. “I need your help.”

  “What makes you think I would help the likes of you? Do I look like I grant wishes? Silly child. Leave. I have no time for singing fish.”

  “I will not leave until you agree to help me avenge my sister!” Meridia cried as she refocused her grip on the handle of the dagger. She had come so close. She wasn’t about to swim all this way without getting what she came for.

  “Avenging your sister, eh? I ought to turn you into a grouper for wasting my time!” the Sea Hag crowed. “Just how do you plan to do that child?”

  “The Fae tend go beyond the salt marsh into the interior of the woods. I need legs to follow them so I can get close enough to kill them. Beyond that, I don’t know. Maybe I can make my target fall in love with me so I can rip out his still beating heart.” Meridia hated how easily the image of the Fae Prince filled her mind.

  “A Fae could never fall in love with a singing fish. You silly child.” The Sea Hag laughed at the naive siren before her.

  “That is why I need your help,” Meridia said, excited that someone was finally listening to her, even if it was a witch.

  “You don’t need me to help you kill the Fae, you silly, silly girl. Their immortality only extends to the land. You’re a siren. Call them to their watery death and be done with it. Besides, no man can resist the siren’s song.”

  “But he—they have learned to stay away from the water’s edge. And besides, they deserve so much worse than drowning. I want to grant them the same respect they granted my sister. I will kill them as viciously as they killed her with their razor nets, swords, and spears,” Meridia said as she recalled the night her sister died. She shivered at the fact she was so close to having her revenge.

  Meridia watched as the Sea Hag considered Meridia’s words. Would the Sea Hag help her or was this another dead end? Meridia stared at the sea witch with the same intensity as the hag did to her.

  "What do you want of me? My song?"

  "Oh, dear child, tsk, tsk, tsk… There are things of far more value to me than a siren’s silly song. I only require a small favor as payment.” The Sea Hag’s tongue slithered out of her mouth. "It would not bode well for you to refuse to give me what I ask. You cannot get your vengeance without it."

  “I have considered your proposal. I will help but only if you free me from this prison”

  “But how do I free you?”

  “I can only be freed when the mage who cursed me dies, or when my heart is cut from my beating chest.”

  “Who is the mage?” Meridia asked. The task seemed to grow in complexity with every word she spoke.

  “He sits on the Fae’s Council of Elders.”

  Meridia stroked the dagger’s flame point, carefully avoiding the tip. Was it worth the price? She wondered what it would feel like to cut a beating heart from a chest? A million thoughts ran through her head.

  "Just do me one last favor, my dear." The Sea Hag’s knowing smile crept across the witch’s face, chilling Meridia’s blood.

  “Like my brethren, I too, am immortal. The true power of an immortal comes when you feast off the heart of your enemies. I do not want to die in vain. I want you to feast on my heart. By doing so, you will acquire all my magic and the knowledge I have accumulated."

  The water above them began to turn darker. Every time Meridia thought about killing those involved in her sister’s death, she became excited, but when she thought about the Fae Prince, she noticed her heart did an extra couple of beats. She knew what she had to do.

  “So, my child, what will it be?” the Sea Hag asked, her forked tongue slithering out, tasting the water.

  "Just remember, my dear. Once you drink the potion, your entire life will change. You can no longer call the sea your home.” The Sea Hag's voice cracked. “Drink the potion once you’re close to the land of the one you seek."

  The Sea Hag held up an iridescent bottle. It was the potion the Sea Hag had been concocting when Meridia had entered the chamber. The glimmer of dark sapphire blue, teal green, and gold mixed with the bone white exterior. Meridia pried it from the Sea Hag’s cold grasp.

  "The potion is yours, once you pry it from my cold dead hands." the Sea Hag said.

  Meridia swallowed back her fear and steeled her nerves as she rushed forward and held the tip of the blade at the base of the Sea Hag’s throat.

  “I will avenge my sister’s death at any cost. I will have everything I want and take what I need to do it.”

  Meridia turned swiftly and plunged the dagger into the heart of the Sea Hag as she carved the beating organ from the witch’s chest.

  The Sea Hag’s wicked smile fell from her face. “I knew you were smarter than the rest.” Meridia trembled at the finality of those words, at the way the life force drained from the Sea Hag.

  Meridia needed no other prompting. She bit into the Sea Hag’s still beating heart and felt a surge of electricity as a ball of energy tore from the Sea Hag’s body and enveloped her. The magic and mayhem of the ancient hag overtook Meridia as she felt the Sea Hag’s power and knowledge fill her.

  The cavern shook violently. Rocks and boulders and sand fell down around her. Meridia swam toward the entrance, refusing to look back. There was nothing left for her to do but to go forward with her plan.

  Chapter Seven

  The sun’s first rays fell across the swampy marsh, warming the grasses. Meridia didn’t remember crawling out of the water and onto the soft, long grasses of the swamp. A voice called to her, but it sounded far away. She awoke, coughing up the salty water from her lungs. Someone turned her on her side. It was only then did she realize she was not alone.

  Alarmed, she sat up on her elbows and tried to gather her surroundings. It was then she saw him, the Fae she had saved. Why wasn’t he attacking her like his cohorts had done to Sirena? When the Fae reached out to help her, she held back, prepared to claw the stranger if she needed to. But then she caught sight of her hands. There were no ugly, knots on her knuckles or sharp, thick claws. She saw no traces of her muddy, silt-colored scales as far as she could see. It startled her to see a pair of long, strong legs where her tail should have been.

  “Are you okay?” The Fae grabbed Meridia's arm and helped pull her to her feet.

  Unsteadily, Meridia rose up on the foreign limbs, blinking at him, confused as to why he wasn’t trying to kill her. Her fingers lightly felt for the blade she had in the makeshift seaweed belt fastened around her waist, but it wasn’t there. She squinted from the sun’s rays as she eyed him suspiciously. Had he found it and disarmed her?

  The Fae stepped toward her, but Meridia quickly pulled away and landed hard on her butt. Something glinted a brilliant silvery white in the sunlight a few feet from where she stood. It was the dagger. She was afraid to stare at it for too long in fear he, too, would see it. Meridia figured if she dove for it, she could kill him where he stood.

  “It’s alright, I mean you no harm.” The Fae bent down while carefully waving his hands.

  Meridia took his body language as a threat and dove for the blade. She landed near enough to grab it but her new body’s inertia propelled her into a gravity-induced roll. Her eyes turned feral, her breathing becoming hard as she inhaled and exhaled through her nose. She huffed and snorted as she scrambled to her feet, keeping close to the ground as she looked for the easiest way to attack him. As close as he was, Meridia couldn’t bring herself to kill him. She was confused by her reaction, even as she hid the blade beneath the seaweed
belt.

  The Fae offered her his robe. The warmth of the fabric was unknown to her, but his actions were slow and deliberate. She tried to keep her wits about her

  “It’s okay, you’re safe. No harm will come to you on my watch, I swear. I’m the one who pulled you out of the water, don’t you remember?”

  “You saved me. Why?” she demanded as she continued to slowly circle him.

  “The waters around here are dangerous. There are sea creatures and fanged fish with arms and razor sharp claws to rip you apart out there. One of my best men was attacked in the water. He lost his arm and nearly his life.”

  “You saved me,” Meridia repeated the alien words. She stared at him as she vowed to herself that one day she would seek revenge, but today was not the day.

  The tall guard approached, leading a white horse. The horse neighed and reared up on his hind legs as it caught a whiff of Meridia. She hissed at the unexpected intrusion.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness.” The tall fae looked Meridia up and down. “Your other robe as requested, sir, and your steed, Your Majesty. We must go. It is not safe here.” The tall Fae paused as he handed the prince the robe, his eyes flicking back to Meridia. “Not for either of you.”

  “Do what you must. She will ride with me.” The Fae Prince mounted his horse and held out his hand to Meridia.

  She grabbed the prince’s hand and he pulled her up with ease. When Meridia sat down on the back of the horse, the horse moved, adjusting to the new weight of the riders.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” The guard bowed before excusing himself.

  Meridia and the Fae Prince rode off into the woods as the sun began to rise higher into the sky. She felt her side, assuring herself that the muddy blade was still against her body as she pulled the robe close. Meridia closed her eyes, confident the blade remained hidden in her makeshift seaweed belt as she listened to the welcoming gentle lull of the waves belie its deceptive nature before retreating back to the sea.

  THE END

  About the Author

  A pre-millennial nomad, Chandra Laraine was raised by 3 bookworms in small towns filled with mysteries, secrets, half truths, and rumors which developed her love of suspenseful plots. Although she likes writing reverse harem romance stories filled with paranormal elements and dangerous edge-of-your-seat perils, she can't seem to pass up a good plot to see where the story takes her. She enjoys providing readers an adrenaline escape filled with sexy, fantasy-fueled adventures.

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  Dreams and Shadows

  by Eleanor Wyatt

  Chapter One

  Amaryllis flopped to the ground, grateful once again that she’d banned gowns from her daytime wardrobe and could tumble around in comfy trousers if that’s what the mood called for.

  “I had a terrible vision today,” Amara said to her sister. She often came to the grove to chat. It was the one place where she wouldn’t be judged for who she was or what she saw. “I saw the palace. It was rotted. Dripping and dark. The gardens were slimy and moldy. It felt like the whole realm was off. Do you remember that time we turned over that log and found all those bugs crawling around? It felt like that, except unnatural. And in the vision, somehow, I knew that I was responsible.”

  Amaryllis trembled, remembering how the vision had felt like a cage. Not that she was unfamiliar with the feeling. Everyday, she felt trapped by people’s expectations when all she wanted was a chance to be herself. Someone to see that she was more than just her powers. Now, here was this possible future… If it happened, it would prove everyone’s assumptions were correct. Her name, her very self, would forever be equated with darkness. She didn’t know if she could handle that. She was so much more than what people allowed themselves to see.

  Amaryllis had played with the idea of leaving the court entirely. Taking off on her own and exploring Faerie. “You always said I should be myself, even if it meant running away just the two of us.” Amara spent most of her days alone anyway. At least if she were away from court, she could find out who she might be without the restrictions of court society and her family. The only thing keeping her here was a sliver of hope that things might change with the upcoming reabsorption of the Faerie and Earth realms.

  “And, of course, I don’t want to leave you, my dear sister.” Her gloved finger traced the lines of Larkspur’s name, carved into the shimmering silver trunk of the tree she had planted in honor of her twin. The shadows of the leaves overhead played over her honey-colored skin, like a sigh whispered over a misty lake. Traditionally, Faerie didn’t have graveyards. The holy books said that all magic and souls were integrated back into Faerie; it was considered disrespectful to have even a place of remembrance. Probably because everyone wanted to keep pretending that they were immortal.

  She tried to ignore the sounds of merrymaking in the distance. It was the Fem Ane Festival, and the entire realm was preparing or already celebrating. Satyrs played their flutes in the streets. Nymphs decorated the palace gardens. Griffins and dragons flew overhead, running important, last-minute errands.

  A noise from the brush interrupted her thoughts. A moment later, her lap was full of a large, black raven, his beak tickling her side. “Okay, okay! I’ve not been completely alone! You and I could take on the world!” Quillan had always been able to sense when she was moping. He had been her one source of happiness in the years since Larkspur had passed. A small smile lit her face as she ran her fingers along his gleaming black feathers.

  “Hello, Amaryllis, I thought I’d find you here.” Her thoughts were interrupted by a smooth, tenor voice.

  “What? Oh, um… how did you…uh, hello Calahan.” To say she was surprised to see him was putting it mildly. They knew each other because they were both members of court and just a few years apart in age, but they’d never been friendly. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here today.” Or any day really.

  She quickly set Quillan down, stood up, and rubbed her hands on her trousers, bits of glistening bark sprinkling forgotten into the dirt below. She glanced into his gold-green eyes for just a moment, not willing to let him see her when she was vulnerable.

  “That’s okay. I know we’ve never been very close, but I happened to remember today was the anniversary of… Well, I brought something for you.” He gestured awkwardly to the item in his hands. “Or, for Larkspur, really.” It wasn’t until he crouched down that she saw the bit of black silk gathered around a small bundle he gently set on the ground. “Go ahead and open it,” he said.

  She knelt, the moisture of the earth sinking into her knees and then gathering in her eyes as she opened the thin fabric and saw a heimarmene plant resting there. It was gorgeous. The leaves were a deep blue-green and it had one flower that had just bloomed, its center a bright, sparkling peach turning to a soft black at the edges. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  “How did you find this?” she asked as she brushed the velvet petals with the tips of her fingers. She was so mesmerized by the exquisite plant in her hands that she didn’t notice his lack of response. “This was her favorite flower, you know? And my favorite for her. It always reminded me of her, but they’re so rare. I never thought to get one for her.” She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Thank you.”

  For years, she and Quillan had been the only people in the realm to mourn, or even recognize, her sister’s death. With the rest of the realm gleefully preparing for the celebration, Calahan’s gesture was a tiny bit of light in a day that she had expected to hold only sadness and grief. Even without his gift, knowing someone remembered Larkspur helped her feel not so alone.

  “We’d better get it in the ground.” She reached for the plant to lift it from the cloth and her gloved finger grazed along the back of Calahan
’s hand as he went to do the same. Her breath caught, the plant slipping from her now unmoving hands. Her whole body was frozen except for one tiny spot on the side of her finger that tingled and burned. That one slip, that accidental bump, even with the gloves, was the first time she’d been touched in so long she couldn’t remember.

  Amaryllis hadn’t touched anybody or been touched in years. Larkspur had been the only person she could touch without worry or care. Because Larkspur was her other half. The light to her darkness. Where Amaryllis had the gift of seeing darkness, Larkspur had the gift of giving light.

  One touch from Larkspur had provided the recipient with a feeling of overwhelming warmth and wellbeing. She was like a drug for some people. But for Amara, she was just her sister. As if, only with each other, their powers canceled out and they could just be themselves. But Larkspur had died when they were ten years old, and Amara hadn’t been voluntarily touched since.