Ascending Into Light (Descending Series Book 2)

by Alainna MacPherson

  Kneeling on one knee, Fallon bowed his head to her, while lifting the covered object aloft to her.

  A moment of quiet washed over the room as everyone watched her raise her head, looking down at the offering. Fallon waited, head still bowed. He could hear her take in a rattling breath before she reached out and accepted the cloaked object, placing it on her lap. Looking up, Fallon watched from his position before her, as she pulled back the folds of cloth revealing the sword that he’d used to fell Karshan.

  Understanding and grief had new tears falling from her brown eyes. He didn’t really socialize with her before she and Karshan had been taken into servitude, but he did recall how young she once looked. The likeness to a human in their early twenties. Fair skinned, free of blemishes and lines. That was gone now, replaced by the horrors she endured while at the mercy of Sylus and his general, Barron. Strain was plainly stamped in her dulled irises and in the wrinkles near the corners of her mouth and eyes.

  She brought a hand up to cover a broken sob as she nodded to Fallon, acceding what she knew he had to do to her mate. Of all the times he’d given loved ones a similar offering, it never got easier. It became a ceremony of sorts when his grandfather first had to put down one of their own, knowing no other way to help them or cure them. There wasn’t any known cure or reversal of the tinneas dearg, the red sickness. Gillian had engraved Karshan’s name in the old language. Since he was their leader, their king, the responsibility of his people’s deaths, even from the tinneas, rested with him.

  He could only hope Karshan was the last of his people to lose their lives because of the Seelie King’s betrayal. Three thousand years was long enough. Soon, his people would rise again.

  The sun had been up for a couple hours, most everyone having already gone to bed, all except Fallon and Kaer. They sat at the table where they conducted most of their business, apart from his office, and right then they were going over what to expect at the King’s ball that evening. Fallon would have probably rather gouge out his eyes than go to the monster’s lair and plaster on a smile they all knew was fake, simply for the purpose to show the king could force it.

  “We need to find an ally. Someone who doesn’t share the King’s view of slavery. A silent supporter in our cause,” Fallon said to Kaer as they sipped beers. It was one of the cheaper labels in a bottle. The hoppy taste was more prominent in this one. He and the other males enjoyed trying new kinds of beer and this one may have to be put on the list marked “decent” in their book.

  “More than just that, my friend,” Kaer said, setting his beer down and leaning forward on his elbows where they rested on the table. Across from him, his King sat sprawled in his seat— well, as best he could with his wings. Keeping his back straighter than the male would have probably preferred. He looked tired, and not just for bed. Tired of everything. Kaer recognized it easily because he was tired too. They all were.

  Fallon looked up, meeting Kaer’s gaze and asked, “What do you mean?”

  “We aren’t just looking for a supporter. We’re going to need a traitor,” Kaer pointed out.

  Fallon conceded that he was right. They weren’t looking for a political vote on their side. They were going to need someone who was willing to defy their king and risk his own death for the abuse of freedom for another’s. Fallon knew there weren’t many ou there – especially Seelie – that could or would do that. And they only had one night to find the right person. If they chose wrong, their lives were forfeit. They needed someone to point them in the right direction.

  Looking up from his bottle, he zeroed in on Kaer’s pensive look, “Do we know if Queen Brianna is going this time around?”

  Seeing where Fallon’s mind was headed, he smiled, As a matter of fact, I do believe it’s been many years since she’d attended one of King Sylus’ birthday parties.”

  They both knew why she hadn’t been going to the Seelie King’s soirées. The same reason they wish they didn’t have to go every year. Syrup liked to parade his accomplishments before his subjects. It kept others in line, lest they consider destroying him.

  “Why don’t you put out a call to Cormac, see if his mother is available for a chat,” Fallon suggested.

  Kaer, a step ahead of him, was already scrolling through his recents on his mobile. Selecting the appropriate contact, he held the phone to his ear and waited.

  Maybe their deaths weren’t on the menu tonight, Fallon thought.

  Beth and Jess had taken their leave of the queen’s office after being informed that they were cousins on Jess’ father’s side. Story told, that his brother ran off with a sprite and raised their family in Unseelie. The queen never denied someone seeking sanctuary. For when they came knocking on her door, it was usually a last resort. From what Jess had gathered, Unseelie was the only group of fae that didn’t judge or harbor racist conjectures or segregate those of mixed blood. Though the others didn’t go as far as completing the removing those of mixed blood – King Sylus was the only one who had done that, the first apparently – they did harass and condemn them socially.

  The Unseelie hosted a hodge lodge of different people and all lived in a somewhat harmonious capacity according to Beth.

  She couldn’t quite explain whey she still possessed some of her powers but the queen made sure to seek her out in order to teach Jess how to use her’s, even before they actually surfaced. They were currently in a small training room, which the guard used regularly, working on meditation. Jess from a haphazard lotus pose on the floor, cracked an eye open to look up at her cousin.

  “Am I supposed to feel anything other than the exhaustion from the day catching up with me?” She asked, only a little sarcastically. She really did hope that this worked. Or did whatever it was that Beth wanted it would.

  “You’re supposed to be tuning yourself into your body,” Beth said, walking a slow circle around Jess.

  Hearing the clip in her voice, though it was subtle, Jess snapped her eyes shut again and took an exaggerated deep breath to show her avid participation. Beth knew more about this than she did, so Jess had to trust that she knew what she was talking about.

  Trying again, she listened to Beth as she spoke softly, instructing her through the meditation. Letting the tension slowly leak out of her shoulders, not slumping though. Keeping a steady pace with her breathing, in and out. In… Out.

  In…Out…

  “Envision your gifts within you. They may be deep, but they are within you,” Beth instructed softly. Jess heard her loud and clear though. Her mind had grown quiet. Jess had never experienced such peace. Constantly processing dozens of thoughts at one time, to feel her mind only focused on Beth’s words and the silence around them and within.

  In the back of her mind, something came into being, appearing like a picture developing in a photographer’s darkroom. A sphere of soft light. She recognized it. The same one as what she saw during the ritual. It burned erratically now though. Unstable. Not unlike a supernova before exploding, consuming everything nearby.

  My powers, Jess realized.

  They were right there. Almost waiting for her to let them out. Impatiently too, it seemed. The fingerlike rays that stretched and retracted appeared to be reaching for something to hold onto, only to retreat when it touched on nothingness.

  “Hold it,” she heard Beth urge her.

  It was there. Right there. Just waiting. Not wasting another second, she reached out this her mind’s eyes, a sort of invisible hand. But it seemed to wink and sputter, moving farther away. Stopping, Jess studied it again. Expecting it to speak, almost. It was obvious that it was alive in some way.

  “You’re not ready,” came a feminine whisper. She frowned, both inside and out. Did the ball of light just really freaking speak? Jess wondered incredulously. She hadn’t actually expected it to do so. Because that was crazy talk.

  Shocked, she nearly lost her grasp on the quiet that allowed her to get this far, before the voice came again.

  “You aren’t r
eady, child,” it said.

  What the hell? Jess said in her mind. It seemed the sphere heard her thoughts, because it seemed to settle a little. The erratic tendrils of light drew in to itself taking move of a smooth, duller surface.

  “Who are you?” She asked, both aloud and in her mind.

  Before she got an answer, though, someone else’s voice echoed in the room, breaking the quiet she had maintained throughout the Twilight Zone conversation she had in her brain. Jess snapped her eyes open as they spoke. “My lady, Beth,” said the maple guard. “The queen requests your presence in her office again. It’s urgent.”

  Meeting Beth’s gaze, she quickly climbed to her feet. The two followed the guard through the deserted halls. Most Unseelie were asleep now. It was mid-morning, Jess estimated. Upon reaching the office door in the throne room, the guard took sentry by the door. Beth knocked and rather than the expected servant answering, the queen herself called out, “Enter!”

  Beth turned the knob and stepped in, Jess following closely and shutting the door behind herself. Both women stepped to the desk where Brianna sat behind a mobile phone at her ear, obviously listening to whoever was on the other end.

  Finally, it was her turn to speak. “Alright, Fallon, let me put you on speaker.” She sounded calm, but Jess could see a subtle change in her eyes. They were strained more than usual. She set the phone on the desk between them and pressed the appropriate button. “You have myself, Princess Jessandra and Lissabeth, her cousin. Tell us what you need.”

  “Information,” he said simply. All threw women seemed to draw closer to the phone. “Tonight is the King’s birthday ball.”

  Jess’ heart rate jumped at the mention of her grandfather. Then, again, when she recalled him telling her he was going to said ball.

  “Going with Jessanddra’s idea, we hope to find an ally in Seelie this evening,” he said.

  Before either of them could respond, another voice came through the phone. “We probably wont get another chance to do this,” Kaer said.

  Nodding, the queen looked to be considering their words.

  “We are hoping you could help point us in the right direction,” Fallon finished. Mutual silence followed for a few moments.

  Looking to Beth, Queen Brianna’s asked, “Do we know of anyone in Seelie who could be a potential traitor and spy?” Her calm voice helped to steady Jess’ racing mind. The quiet from earlier a long lost memory.

  “No,” Jess interjected.

  Brianna’s surprised eyes looked up to her, then grew curious. “What do you mean?” She asked.

  Jess took a moment to collect her thoughts a mere count of two breaths, but it was all she needed before answering. “We don’t need a spy,” she said.

  Kaer started arguing first, “But, you said—“

  “We don’t need a spy,” she said again, cutting him off. “We need a slave.”

  The silence was deafening and not nearly as welcoming as the kind she had in the training room fifteen minutes ago.

  When no one spoke and she knew she needed to explain. She sank down into the seat behind her. “We need someone who is almost as tortured by the segregation of the Seelie as the Unseelie themselves.

  Brianna, catching on to what Jess was saying smiled wistfully. “Family. A person who is separated from a loved one.”

  She looked up briefly at Beth, who, Jess saw, gave a knowing smile and a nod.

  “We may have someone, Fallon,” Brianna said.

  The halls were quiet, dark. A large truck waited for him outside as it was day. Warren barely restrained himself from clawing his way out of the metal box, but he knew his master wouldn’t be pleased if he did.

  As he crept around the corner from the main stairs, he did a quick glance and saw there were only two people milling about. Warren’s mind was so far gone it didn’t recall their names. He wasn’t even sure he knew who they were anymore. He remembered this used to be his home, but it felt like centuries ago. A past he had no memories of. Except for the scent of his mate that the king held hostage, Warren didn’t remember anything about his past anymore. It still caused a small ache in his heart, but it was fleeting. You couldn’t miss something you had no memory of.

  The two walked down down a hall, leaving the grand cavern empty. Quickly, Warren made his way to what appeared to be the meal hall. It was empty as well, darkened. It looked like all had gone to bed. Though it wouldn’t last, the young males and females who worked topside would be rousing soon for work. He had very little time to find the statue his master had told him was there. Weaving down the darkened halls, he found the Fomorian leader’s apartment. Entering, he searched the room, careful not to disturb anything. Confused though, he left empty handed. He frowned as he quietly raced out and made his way back up the stairs unseen. His master wouldn’t be pleased to learn that the item he was looking for was no longer where he thought it was.

  He just hoped he killed him when he did met out any punishment. Ending his mate’s suffering.

  Fallon and Kaer arrived at the mansion ahead of the car. When they touched down, their shined dress shoes slipped a little on the gravel drive. So much different from what they were used to, but they couldn’t very well show up to the King’s party in leather shitkickers.

  As the Honda pulled up, Fallon spotted a guard descending the porch steps, approaching them with an irritated glare in his eyes. They were probably interrupting his Sweet Crush game, Fallon mused.

  Kaer opened the back door to the car and a delicate, gloved hand reached out, beckoning. Barely restraining from rolling his eyes, Kaer took the hand in his own and helped Shana step out. When she stood next to him, he released her hand, waiting to close the door after she cleared, slamming it a little harder than necessary.

  Fallon could sense the tension around Kaer. The male hated going to the lion’s den, so to speak. They both did. But Kaer more especially. Fallon assumed it was because of his mate’s death in said den. Whatever it was, adding Shana to the mix made him a downright bear to be around. He never did approve of her antics, the same ones that Fallon chose to ignore. That may have to change, though, he thought.

  As Shana tucked her arm around Fallon’s offered one, Roshea stepped out from the driver’s side. Shana was wearing something expensive, Fallon assume. It looked like it too. Soft layers of sheer black material fell like pedals around the skirt and the bodice was strapless, revealing just enough cleavage that was probably deemed appropriate for a daor. It was a polished satin that pulled tight down the center, pushing up said cleavage.

  Shana’s bosom rested on the sleeve of his cotton dress white shirt. He dressed like any other Fomorian male going to such an event. Nothing resembling like he did the night of the Thanksgiving meal with the sleeveless shirt to present the benai that told of royalty.

  Kaer was dressed similarly, presentable for the occasion but nothing displaying his positions as a leader’s second, a general. Though pretty, Roshea was dressed in a more utility manner. The bodice wasn’t nearly as revealing or tight. Her dress was a brushed satin color that looked nice but wasn’t winning any runway awards. She was a soldier underneath and had no desire to dress up this night, on a mission.

  When the guard stepped close, he eyed the four with disdain, much like one wold when finding shit on the bottom of their shoe. Fallon was used to it. Kaer, too, under usual circumstances, tonight he could see the other male’s fangs flash. Luckily the Seelie hand’t caught the challenge and spoke to Fallon.

  “I trust you bathed before coming tonight, daor,” he sneered. Though some would say such a thing simply to be a bully, Fallon could see the honesty in the question. The Seelie viewed them as unclean.

  Shana and Roshea remained quiet, thankfully, dutiful servants through and through.

  Seeing that no one was going to answer him, the guard sniffed and huffed before jerking his head in the direction of the house, “Let’s go then.”

  They followed dutifully, up the pathway, over the thresho
ld, down the hall and to the door that was the veil. Stopping, the guard moved to the side of the open door, a gaping mouth of black on their end. Again, he jerked his head towards the door as if to say “Down the rabbit hole you go.”

  Chapter Ten

  Fallon detangled himself from Shana and approached the door. They all stepped through in single file. Once on the other side, Fallon found Shana’s hand taking up residence once again on his arm. Her closeness was starting to rub him the wrong way, causing his skin to tickle a little.

  He knew the signs for what it was, rejection of another female touching him. Granted, it wasn’t skin to skin, but the cotton of his shirt and gloves weren’t exactly wool. His body didn’t appreciate being touched by Shana and it was only a matter of time before his body didn’t tolerate it at all. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that while they were in the midst of the evening’s mission.

  Glancing down to see that Roshea had stepped up to Kaer, he saw that she kept her hands by her sides. Obviously, she was aware that her cover only went as far as the two arriving together, nothing more. Contrary to Shana’s blatant public display of affection. The female was sheltered so much so that she didn’t see that she presented herself as a potential target this way. Fallon signed inside. He knew that was his ding. Somewhere along the way, probably when he had first had feelings towards her, though small, he felt the need to shelter her. Now was not the time for such a lesson though, he thought.

  Keeping his eyes forward, he spoke as they walked together down the hall towards the ballroom. “Remember, we are here to find Ceiracin,” he said quietly.

  In the corner of his eye, he could see both Roshea and Kaer nod their understanding.

  “What do we do when we find him?” Roshea asked.

  Arriving at the grand ballroom entrance, they paused. Fallon looked down and met Roshea’s gaze. “We’ll have to make it up as we go.”