Rise of the Fomori: A Young Adult Urban Fantasy Adventure (Faerie Warriors Book 2)

by J. A. Curtis

  I swallowed it back. “Go ahead. But quick.”

  The faerie guardian tattooed on the upper arm of Luchta’s black skin leapt free, becoming a tiny squat marshmallow with arms and legs the size of a large rat and with a flat nose and pointed ears. It prattled over the rebar pins and swung from bar hook to bar hook, examining and grabbing. The brownie communicated with Luchta through silent looks and gestures, and she responded with nods or facial expressions—their own personal language.

  Decision made, Luchta lifted the packet she wanted off the hook and dumped it into the cart. The brownie disappeared, melting back onto Luchta’s upper arm in the form of a tattoo. We crept from aisle to aisle, repeating the process.

  The bond between Luchta and her brownie differed from any I’d ever seen. Instead of directing her faerie guardian, it was like she was working with it.

  “We’re being watched,” Veran whispered, his grip on the cart tightened as we made our way down aisle twelve.

  A tall, skinny man in a worker’s vest and goatee pretended to examine something on the shelves about two-thirds down the aisle from us. He occasionally glanced in our direction, but then acted like he was engrossed in his task of staring at the merchandise.

  Luchta’s brownie melted onto her arm in an instant.

  “How close are we?” I asked.

  Luchta frowned at her list. “We need sealant and floor joists.”

  The manor had been half-burned to the ground, and with the weather growing chillier, we needed to build a new shelter before the harshness of winter set in. Unfortunately, we had absolutely no money.

  “Veran, head to the back of the store and get started while Luchta gathers the last items. I’ll meet you both there.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t,” Veran said. “I’m going to need some time—”

  Luchta balked at that. “We can’t bail every time. Eventually, we’re going to run out of hardware stores.”

  “If we get impatient, we’re going to get caught,” Veran shot back.

  Luchta was right. We couldn’t keep bailing. We were running low on gas and with no money to refuel, we couldn’t be wasting more by driving to other stores.

  “Veran, Luchta, finish. I got this,” I said.

  I took a breath, plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came off as pleasant, and approached the worker.

  “Hey, I was wondering—where do you keep the lightbulbs?”

  The worker didn’t even glance toward me. Like a bulldog, he was locked onto Luchta and Veran. “Aisle three.”

  He brushed past me to follow the younger kids with the cart. His hand rested on a radio hooked to his belt.

  I jumped into his path. He stopped and glared at me as if I were a wad of gum he’d spent the afternoon scraping off the floor. I tried to make my voice sound even more cheery to compensate. “Do you know which lightbulb is the most energy efficient?”

  “Are you trying to distract me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He straightened the shiny white name tag on his shirt like a badge of honor. “I am the loss prevention manager. Do you know how much merchandise has been stolen on my watch?”

  He said it with such pride that I knew there was only one answer. “Um, none?”

  His breath reeked of rotten tuna as he stuck his nose in my face. “That’s right. None.”

  Great, just what we needed, an overzealous manager ready to profile the first kids who walked into his store. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with which lightbulb is the most—”

  “Where are your delinquent companions?”

  This guy wouldn’t be deterred. I cast a casual glance over my shoulder at the empty aisleway. “Hmm. Must have continued without me.”

  He barreled past, yanking his two-way radio from its case.

  “Wait!” I snatched the radio from his grasp.

  He hissed and jerked back to me. “Give me that.”

  I squinted at the small generic name tag. “Come on, Gerald. We don’t want to cause trouble.”

  “Says the girl who stole my radio. Hand it over before I call security.”

  If I gave it to him, he would call security anyway. It would take longer without his little communicator. With a resigned sigh, I held it out to him. He scowled and extended his hand. I raised my arm right before his hand closed around it and threw the walkie to the ground as hard as I could. I flinched as the broken pieces shot across the tiled floor.

  Better a broken radio than frozen faeries. Perhaps Veran was right. Maybe we should have bailed.

  “What the—how dare—you just—” His face turned crimson. “Security! Security!”

  I spun and raced for the rear of the store.

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  Veran slumped over the cart. Sweat trickled down the sides of his face. “I told you this takes time.”

  Despite the lack of money, we didn’t want to steal anything, so we’d brought Veran along to duplicate items.

  “We’re running out of that. Where’s Luchta?”

  “Here.” Luchta ran up, dumping a tube and a piece of wood with a divot down the center into the cart. Veran’s eyes glazed over.

  They’d find us any second. “Quick, Luchta, what here is essential?”

  “What? You think I’m gathering decorative pieces? It’s all essential!”

  I looked in the cart. Everything Veran had duplicated sat at the front. I gathered the items into my arms and thrust them at Luchta. “Take these. Go wait by the exit. If anyone sees you, just go.” She took the supplies and stood by the door, keeping a lookout.

  “Veran, please, we need you to keep duplicating.” I held up the next few items in the cart. He touched them, and they multiplied in my hands.

  He staggered. “You don’t understand,” he muttered. “If I don’t get it right, these copies will be useless. And some of this stuff I haven’t even seen before.”

  Veran’s ability was limited. We had found that while he could duplicate water and milk, other liquids with a more complex makeup—such as gas—were too difficult for him to replicate.

  But I’d thought duplicating solid objects was no big deal. I frowned at the copies in my hands. What if they ended up not working?

  “They’re coming,” Luchta announced. She shoved through the emergency door.

  A deafening clang resounded through the building. I released my faerie guardian and a replica of myself stood next to me. Her chin-length hair and brown eyes matched mine without the slightest difference. She even was dressed in the T-shirt and jeans that I currently wore. She scooped an exhausted Veran into her arms and sprinted for the door.

  The alarm blared in my head as I stared at the remaining items. Children frozen in the dead of winter, or become a criminal here and now?

  A picture of sweet, little five-year-old Dairlin, her large innocent eyes, her fist twisted around her charm necklace popped into my head.

  I grabbed the rest of the supplies and bolted for the door.

  A beefy man in a blue security uniform loomed in the doorway, his stern face and folded arms daring me to make it past him. My sneakers left skid marks across the smooth white floor as I veered down a side aisle. If I got him away from the door, I might slink around him and meet up with the others.

  In that sort of split-vision way that only faeries can do, I saw Veran’s tired body laid out as my faerie guardian placed him in the truck's bed. Luchta huddled in the back among a plethora of random supplies.

  I dashed up and down several aisles, but every time I circled around, the man remained by the door. I was pretty sure he was the only one I needed to worry about. None of the employees seemed keen on intercepting me, and all the customers just stood and watched the events unfold.

  If the back wasn’t an option, then I’d head out the front.

  “There’s no escape, kid.” The man’s deep voice carried to me from his place by the door. “We’ve called the police.”

  The police.


  Other Mina out by the truck jerked the trailer door closed, latched it, then jogged to the cab and rapped on the window. The window dropped, revealing a startled Caelm.

  “I’m Mina’s faerie guardian. They’ve called the police. Get out of here, now.”

  Caelm’s pale white face turned a shade paler as his hands squeezed the steering wheel. “What about you, my lady?”

  “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  Caelm didn’t look happy but started the truck and Other Mina watched as it rattled over several speed bumps before turning out on the main road.

  I concentrated and pulled my faerie guardian onto my arm. It took the shape of a griffin, like it always did in tattoo form. I reached the front of the store, and my heart sank. Another man in a security uniform guarded the sliding glass doors.

  There were two now. The beefy man guarding the rear exit wasn’t bluffing. There was no escape.

  I doubled back, but as I rounded a corner, I knocked into a display of batteries and crashed to the floor, landing on my side. The items I’d grabbed from the cart flew from my arms, scattering among the battery packets. I flipped onto my back. The lights of the ceiling glared at me. One flashed on and off, winking at me as if it had seen the whole thing and agreed not to reveal my secret.

  The hard tile bit into my body, and part of me considered lying there until the police came to take me away.

  I pictured Dairlin and Veran and Luchta and twenty-two other reasons I couldn’t give up.

  I shoved my hands under me and rose to my feet. With my faerie guardian’s help, I could get past the man at the front of the store. Other Mina would tackle him to the ground in a flash. And if I escaped before the police came, then I’d never have to explain how that worked.

  But as I looked out the front glass doors of the hardware store, into the parking lot, and saw the cacophony of flashing lights, my hope shriveled.

  I was too late.

  2

  The Stone in the Glass

  Arius

  “Remember, Arius, you have a duty to fulfill. Never dishonor that.—Nuada

  THE CRACKING BARK CAME off in chunks as I slid the drawknife against it and pulled. More of the rough outer layer fell away, revealing the smooth white wood underneath.

  Despite the steady, repetitive work, I enjoyed the movement and the sweet pine smell that drifted up to me as the thick bark of the spruce peeled back. I scooted along the log, trying to ignore the sight of my failure sitting in monolithic decay to my left. The blackened shell of our home echoed through me every time I saw it. Everything I was had burned away the night the manor went up in flames.

  And now we were forced to rebuild. Luchta had discovered the blueprints to the manor she’d made during her previous life buried in the supplies of the armory. The fire had barely reached under the manor, so they were unharmed. After giving herself a crash course in building construction, she had sent us all into the forest in search of suitable spruce trees to construct a shelter.

  We’d also collected many of the tools and supplies from the manor’s original construction, along with the plans. But some necessary supplies were missing.

  I shut my eyes, but it didn’t block out Mina’s face, her golden-brown irises swirling with angry disappointment at my refusal to go with her to retrieve supplies.

  Probation. Whatever that was.

  It felt cruel to force me to live in my unworthiness instead of letting me take the full consequences of my actions. Perhaps then I could move on.

  But she’d bitten back her retort and accepted my refusal, killing my hopes that I’d finally forced her hand. So much for the conditions of my probation.

  My eyes opened. The drawknife had sliced back a layer of the smooth white wood, leaving an uneven gash. It was minor, no one would even notice. Nobody except someone who could pinpoint even the smallest of errors. Now the mistake remained, etched in the wood forever.

  A glint of light insisted on my attention, forcing my eyes up to the one intact window at the back of the manor. Nuada’s office.

  The drawknife rested on the bark as I swung off the log. I gathered my gauntlets out of the grass, sliding them on, the leather coming up my forearm. My thumb slid into the holder, the leather cutting across my palm leaving the underside of my fingers free of covering. The design allowed my fingers to breathe within the leather. Moreover, I enjoyed the feel of the grip of the sword against my bare skin.

  I didn’t need gauntlets for what I planned to do. But the feel of being clad in armor was comforting to me—as if it might somehow protect me against what I might discover.

  The setting sun’s rays on the glass of Nuada’s office signaled both a beacon and a warning.

  I released my golem. The giant creature rose from the earth, shoulders and arms and legs, only ten times larger than any man and made of solid stone. Using a single rock finger as a battering ram, the pane broke into pieces, tinkling down, shattering the glint into a thousand pinpricks of light. The sound brought faeries running from around the side of the manor.

  “Sir—” Palon started, but I held up a hand, and he cut himself off.

  Other faeries gathered around him in silence.

  Mina was gone, and I had the chance to face this on my own. I climbed into the golem’s rock palm, and it lifted me to the cleared-out opening.

  Time to flush out the secrets Nuada left behind.

  It surprised me that Mina hadn’t done this already, with or without me. But maybe she didn’t realize Nuada’s office was still searchable after the fire. Luchta had advised everyone not to go into the burned-out structure.

  Other than a few scorched walls, the stark room contained minimal fire damage. Careful not to cut myself on the shards of remaining glass along the window’s edge, I climbed into the room. I took in the gas mask lying on the floor next to Nuada’s desk, and I froze as my mind replayed the events of the past.

  I busted into Nuada’s office to find her standing there, a mask covering her face and the smell of burning Rowan leaves filling my nostrils—

  That memory and the ones leading up to it ran through my head, as they had a thousand times, pointing out the moments I might have reversed course or made a different decision, or to have just listened to what Mina had been trying to tell me. I shook my head to banish the thoughts. Not now.

  I stumbled to the desk. A pain developed behind my eyes and a harshness grated my throat. All the times I’d visited with Nuada in this room threatened to spill over into something uncontainable. I slammed each drawer open, letting the excess emotion siphon off into one I understood. The bottom side drawer didn’t budge. I rammed it with my foot, knowing it would do no good, but the resulting pain brought some clarity of mind. In the top middle drawer lay Nuada’s laptop. Careful not to let my anger destroy something of value, I laid it on top of the desk.

  I took two paper clips from one drawer and jammed them into the small hole of the locked one. With care, one clip held the pins back while the other clicked the drawer open. In the drawer's bottom, lay Nuada’s emerald ring, an armband, and a glass ball mounted on a wooden stand. The sight of the ring turned my stomach. When it had changed little Dairlin into a rampaging monster—that was when I should have questioned Nuada.

  I lifted each item from the drawer and set it on the desk next to the computer. The armband was missing two gemstones from its five casings. One of the missing gems I assumed to be the emerald ring, since its size and shape matched.

  The glass ball called my attention. A small blue rock-like stone hung in the center, its edges jagged. An energy emanated from the ball, and I had the sudden urge to press my hand against the glass. I hesitated. New magic could be dangerous, and it was suspicious that the power inside the ball seemed to beckon me with such force. Not to mention, the ball had belonged to Nuada, which was reason enough to avoid messing with it.

  But I planned on handing over everything I found to Mina. If I didn’t check it out now, she would later. The faeries didn’t
need her taking any unnecessary risks. We needed her too badly.

  The insistence that I touch it rang in my ears. I stared at the blue stone, and a white mist pulsed around it in soft wisps. The pulsing grew stronger.

  My hand connected with the cool glass.

  White mist swirled through the ball, and the glass warmed under my hand. The swirling substance wrapped around me, pulling me forward. The sensation of falling... falling into the mist gripped me. It filled my vision until I only saw white.

  I fell faster. The speed of the air rushing past my skin suffused my mind with alarm. If I hit the ground, I’d be seriously injured. Wouldn’t I? Or was my body still outside the glass?

  The mist whipped past me. The force tore at my hair, my body—

  My wings.

  They sprang apart, and air filled them. They were the same black feathered wings with a line of brown at the bottom that I favored during Relinquishment. Powerful, predatory wings. I soared through the curling mist. My armor gone, I was clad in a dark shirt and pants. As I flew, my eyes focused and made out a grassy landing far below. I dove.

  When I drew close to the ground, I stretched my wings and rose into a loop. I circled up and down for as long as my momentum allowed before dropping to the soft grass.

  I looked out over the endless flat plain. Even if it was all in my mind, everything felt so real.

  “You’re daring,” a soft voice said.

  I turned. A woman with ivory skin and full red lips pulled into a soft smile stood before me. Large golden-feathered wings peeked out over slender shoulders, the tips brushing the tops of the multi-hued grass. She wore a cottony white top and matching pants, her petite feet bare. Though slender, she was much curvier than Mina’s stick-thin form, bespeaking a grown woman.

  Her flowing hair swung in a shining sheet as her head dropped to the side. “You are not Nuada.”

  The tone of her voice had a soft lilting quality to it, like water trickling over stone. I swallowed. “Nuada’s gone.”

  “What do you mean?”