by J. A. Curtis
Five years ago, I’d sworn never to trust Dramian again.
I had been wrong about so many people. My ten-year-old self had been wrong about Dramian. But I’d also been wrong about Thaya and Chels. I’d been wrong about Mina. And Nuada. What made me think this was any different?
But despite everything, I couldn’t help but trust my instincts. This was why I didn’t deserve to lead. How could I lead when trusting my instincts had so often led to disaster? How could I trust my decisions? How could others?
And yet, Mina trusted Dramian, and Mina had never been wrong so far.
She trusts you too, I thought. And you let her down.
I tried to push that guilt aside, but it wouldn’t budge. I’d hated that look of betrayal on her face.
At least I could make her proud in this. She’d wanted me and Dramian to get along since she’d come to the Haven. And perhaps that is the best argument why I should trust Dramian—Margus and Nuada had worked so hard to keep us bitter enemies. Working together would destroy everything they’d tried to instill in us.
But I didn’t know if Dramian saw things that way. He acted angry at Margus over Iris’s death, and he seemed sincere, but was it enough to break him of his attachment to Margus? The only one who had been there for him the past fifteen years?
At least if I was wrong, nobody else would get hurt.
I crept up on the clearing, making my way around to the north so that at least I’d come from a direction Dramian wasn’t expecting, just in case.
Dramian stood in the clearing, sword drawn, his whole body tense. I scanned the area, but saw no signs of Margus. Dramian was alone. I approached the edge of the clearing, still observing, looking off through the trees for any sign of a hidden Margus. But my pinpoint eyesight picked up no signs of even a translucent Margus.
“Dramian,” I said, quietly.
He spun, eyes wide. “Do you see him? Is he here?”
I shook my head.
“Are you sure?” he demanded.
“I’m sure.”
Dramian sheathed his sword and took a deep breath. “He was supposed to be here.”
I frowned. I hadn’t seen Margus approaching, which meant he should have already been in the clearing when Dramian arrived. Either that, or he was very, very late.
Or not coming at all.
Dramian paled. He stepped toward me. “Release your golem.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
A growl escaped my throat, but I released my golem, and Dramian jumped, latching onto my golem’s arm and climbing up to its head.
He stood and looked up into the sky. “Get up here. I need your eyes.”
My golem grumbled. I didn’t like Dramian giving me orders, but Dramian was intent on whatever he was looking for, and there was a glint of fear in his eyes. My golem lowered a stone hand, and I stepped onto it. The hand raised me up, onto the golem’s head.
Dramian pointed back toward the Haven to a dark figure moving just above the cloud line. “Tell me that is some sort of large bird.”
My stomach twisted, and panic rose in my throat.
The dark figure was Margus on his wyvern. He was minutes away from reaching the Haven. Chels was at the Haven.
I gripped my sword and swung toward Dramian. “You betrayed us!”
Dramian backed up, climbing down my golem and dropping to the ground. “I haven’t, brother, I swear.”
His dragon appeared next to him.
I dropped to my golem’s shoulder and held onto its head as my golem swung massive fists toward the dragon. The fiery beast jerked back, and Dramian danced to the clearing’s edge.
“You set this up with Margus,” I roared.
Again. I’d been played for a fool again.
Dramian jumped on his dragon’s back. Its wings flapped and tried to rise into the air, but my golem caught its tail and slammed it back to the earth. Dramian rolled to the grass.
“Arius, you idiot. We don’t have time for this,” Dramian snapped, pushing himself up on shaking arms.
The golem held the dragon down by the throat and slammed it with a rock fist, Dramian dropped back to the grass.
“I have time to take down backstabbing traitors,” I said.
“Stop and think for a second. This is a trap. The meeting, the attack. They know about all of it.”
He was right. Margus was moving against the Haven because he knew it was empty. That meant he knew about the attack, the plan, all of it. The faeries, Mina, they were all in danger. My golem’s fists came down again and again.
“And how else would they know about the attack if you didn’t tell them?”
Dramian looked spent. When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse whisper. “I promise. I promise. I didn’t tell Margus anything about the attack. I didn’t tell him anything about your plans. Please. My faeries are in just as much danger as yours. We have to save them.”
The rock monster’s fist paused. I needed him. There was no way I could get to the faeries in time without his dragon to fly there.
“You will fly me to the attack,” I growled.
Dramian nodded.
My golem released the dragon. I dropped to the ground and took Dramian’s arm, coaxing him to his feet.
I frowned. What about the queen? She was in mortal danger. Was I just going to leave her to Margus’s wrath? If I made that choice, she’d be killed for sure. And what about the children and babies left behind, barely protected at the Haven? What would Margus do to them?
The Haven and the Fomori base were in opposite directions, although the Haven was closer. If I sent Dramian to warn the faeries attacking the base, Margus would be done and gone by the time I reached the Haven, even with my golem pounding through the trees. That wouldn’t work. Dramian with his grace was faster on foot, he could reach the Haven faster.
“You go to the Haven. Fight off Margus. Protect the children—and Chels if you can. I’ll go help the faeries battling the Fomori. I’ll need you to fly me part way there. Give two small puffs of smoke when you have to pull your dragon back. Then get to the Haven as fast as you can.”
Dramian stumbled unsteadily but nodded. “Good plan.”
I frowned, uncertainty settling in my chest. I had to stop the attack. But I lacked rank or title. “They may not listen to me.”
Dramian’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you do this, Arius? It's not about causes or positions or duty. We serve them because they need us. That’s what it has always been about, and you know it. Go save them. I’m trusting you.”
“You’ve been working with Margus this whole time, trying to get to the queen. How can I trust you?”
“You think I’d put my own faeries at risk? For Margus? For a chance to get to the queen?” He spat in the grass. “Go. Mina needs you.”
31
The Plan
Mina
“Please understand, you don’t always have to stand alone.”—Nana
THE FOMORI’S BASE WASN’T as well guarded as the Haven. I’d learned that on my escape with Dramian. Fifteen years of anonymity had left them secure in their safety. Still, I left some distance between me and the building as I hid in the bushes. Even from that distance, I made out a couple of cameras attached to the side of it.
The wilting flowers on the bush next to me pressed near my face, and I breathed in their sickly sweetness. I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. Part of me had wanted to restore Arius’s rank and title the instant the words had fallen from my lips. I pulled back from the dying flowers, shoving them away as pain, disappointment, and regret mixed together into a confusing mass in my chest.
But he wanted me to do it. For some reason that didn’t make me feel better.
The cool air of the mountains caused me to shiver. How could he abandon me? How could he abandon us? And yet, I felt like I’d missed something.
Like, somehow, I had abandoned him.
An arrow from a crossbow shot from the woods and landed in a leafy bus
h next to the building. I glanced toward the main entrance. Would the cameras or anybody notice? They were supposed to hit the camera. Palon had originally been meant to take the shot. But now he was leading the attack and needed to hang back. I risked leaning out of my bush to see who had fired. Raedia. Did she even know how to use a crossbow? I’d never seen the faeries of Dramian’s camp use them.
Nerime came out of the trees beside Raedia and raised her crossbow. Another arrow lodged in the front door post.
That was better. But not enough.
Nothing happened.
Both the girls raised their crossbows again and shot. One landed in the dirt, while the other struck the roof. I rolled my eyes. This was taking forever.
My faerie guardian rose next to them. Raedia eyed the green horned dragon. “What are you doing?” she hissed at me.
The dragon let out a deluge of fire, setting the trees that lined the front drive ablaze. If that didn’t arouse the attention of the Fomori, I didn’t know what would. I pulled my dragon back onto my arm.
Get ready, I thought.
The front door swung open, and five members of the Fomori stepped out. One pointed at Raedia and Nerime.
“There! Get them!”
Raedia and Nerime disappeared into the trees.
“Sound the alarm! We're under attack!” someone else shouted.
A ringing started that sounded like the blaring of a fire alarm. Five members of the Fomori charged into the woods after the fleeing girls. The shrill alarm cut, and six more exited the building and rushed off to join the attack.
Would Bres or Margus join them? In one sense, it would be easier if they stayed in the building, but if they came out to fight, I could make that work too.
But no one else came out.
That was strange. When I was here before, I’d counted at least forty Fomori. Why so few? Were they inside or gone? I wouldn’t know unless I went in.
I shut my eyes, and a picture of Margus rose within my mind. I ran a hand over the green emerald around my neck and changed. My body grew in height, and my shoulders grew broad as my chest flattened. I drew a small mirror from the pocket on my belt. I wanted to be sure the transformation had worked.
Margus’s piercing eyes glared back at me. I looked as much like him as I remembered. After training Docina, I realized how easy it was to get the transformation wrong. Hopefully, it was convincing enough.
I entered using the back door Dramian and I had escaped through during my last visit. The soles of my shoes rang with the hollowness on the tile floors. I didn’t see a single faerie. What if Bres and Margus weren’t even here? All our planning would be useless.
I paused, a foreboding descending on me. Something wasn’t right. Get out, I thought.
No, I argued with myself. The faeries were counting on me. Niamh was counting on me. This could be a stroke of good luck—a chance to search the building and see what I could find. What I could take. And if I was lucky, maybe Bres or Margus was still here somewhere.
Trying to appear like I belonged, I headed down a hallway filled with shut doors. I tried a couple, but they were locked. With a sigh, I left that hallway and headed for the corridor I knew contained the barracks. I peeked into one of the open rooms. Empty. I slipped into it and shut the door.
I glanced around the room but didn’t see any cameras, so I released my faerie guardian in the form of Bres. Faerie Guardian Bres would hunt down the real Margus while I, disguised as Margus, would find and face Bres. I handed Faerie Guardian Bres a disc, and he hid it in a pocket in his pants. Mine, I placed in the small bag I often saw Margus carrying on his own belt.
My image as Margus flickered, and I shut my eyes and focused on holding my transformation. I needed to direct my faerie guardian and hold the transformation, or this wouldn’t work.
I sent Faerie Guardian Bres off into the building in search of Margus while I headed toward Bres’s office.
“Margus,” a voice said.
I straightened and spun around. Real smooth, Mina.
Real Bres stood at the end of the hall dressed in his light-brown faerie armor, observing me. “Are you searching for something?”
“There’s some commotion going on outside.” I said, glad my transformation masked my voice as well. “I was coming to see you.”
“Yes, it seems the children have attempted an assault.”
“Should we go assist in their capture?”
Getting Bres out of the building would allow my faerie guardian to freely search for Margus. And it would make it less likely that the real Margus would run into us.
“I’m not worried about some inexperienced children getting the best of us.”
You should, I thought, fighting the urge to clench my fists.
He walked toward me, and I tried to hide my nervousness at his approach. “Come, I would like to speak with you in my office,” he said.
I followed. Speaking with Bres would give me the chance I needed to attack and get the disc on him. I walked behind Bres. If I lost hold of the transformation, I wanted to have time to react before he noticed. The longer I had to hold it, the harder it became.
Bres moved ahead with easy, long strides. This was the man who had tortured me. Who had stolen my blood. A revulsion clenched inside me, and my instincts were shouting to get as far away from this man as possible. But I had a mission, and it was going surprisingly well.
But a part of me felt uncertain. I was supposed to make Bres fall. Bres and Margus. I planned on using the discs that cut off access to their faerie guardians to keep them from attacking. That meant I had to use one of the other two ways of making a faerie fall. Decapitation or heart removal. I couldn’t imagine the messiness, nor the difficulty of ensuring the second. So decapitation it was.
My hands grew clammy. I had only ever made Nuada fall by taking down her faerie guardian. And I had only done it out of necessity, to protect Arius.
But this was just as necessary. And it wasn’t like Bres or Margus would die. They’d be reborn as babies. After everything they’d done, they both deserved that.
Still—decapitation. Up till now, I’d tried not to think about it, but the moment was growing close, and a sickening anxiety gripped me. Could I chop off two people’s heads? Was I capable of that kind of violence?
I swallowed. Yes, yes you are. You better be, or this was all for nothing.
He entered his office, holding the door for me to enter. I stepped into the room, and heard the snap of the door shutting behind me. There was a desk, empty except for a cup holding pens. To my left sat a large bookshelf filled with books and other trinkets. I heard the snap of the door shutting behind me.
“These children are making a nuisance of themselves,” Bres said. “Don’t you think it may be time to take down their petty resistance for good? They’ve all but gift wrapped the queen for us, and frankly, I don’t care to go through another round of tending all those babies again.”
This time, I couldn’t stop my hands from drawing into fists. I rammed one into the bag on my belt, fingers closing around the cool metal of the disc. I faced away from Bres, not wanting him to see the expression on my face. “But you still need the general,” I said.
“Yes, we do still need the general.” Bres’s words were so close to my ear, I felt his hot breath scorch my skin. Alarm struck me, and I spun, but Bres was faster. He latched onto my arm and forced a metal disc onto it, pushing the button until it latched onto my skin.
Two things happened at once. I lost concentration on my transformation, causing my body to shrink back to my teenage self, and my faerie guardian returned to my arm.
I went for my sword, but Bres’s fist plowed into my face so hard my body slammed back into the desk, and I dropped to the floor. I touched my tender jaw, the pain pulsing through it, and wondered if it was broken.
Bres bent over me and drew my sword from my sheath. “Your training is lacking, General. Most warriors are taught to fight through the pain. Being raise
d by humans has made you soft.”
Lost. I had lost. Somehow, Bres had known I was coming. Dramian. I thought we’d won him over. That his care for his faeries and his hatred for Margus was enough to secure him to our side. But he had betrayed me. He had betrayed all of us.
My fingers raised to the armband filled with gems on my left arm. It was my last line of defense. My one chance of escape.
All you must do is press your hand over it and think activate. When you do, the stone will unleash a magical force that will incapacitate any near you, Niamh had said.
I slid my fingers across the smooth yellow stone. Activate.
A deep lethargy filled me, my hand fell from the stone, and my head dropped to the tile floor. I tried to move, but my limbs didn’t respond. Blurry waves filled my vision, and my eyelids pressed closed against my will.
Bres’s harsh laughter rang dully in my ears.
“Oh, General. The yellow stone? You really should be careful who you trust.”
32
The Battle
Arius
“Act like you are meant to lead and others will follow.”—Nuada
THE EARTH MOVED BY below as I rode high in the sky on Dramian’s dragon. Each moment that Dramian didn’t rip his dragon out from under me, I counted as a positive sign this wasn’t some elaborate trick he’d planned against me.
As we flew, I searched for signs of humans, but the few hikers I saw were moving away from my destination. That was good. When Dramian set me down, I planned on releasing my golem and, humans or no, plow ahead to get to the faeries in time to warn them.
Dramian had a point. Whatever my failings, when the faeries were in real danger, I’d be there for them. Not because I was the best leader or because I was worthy of leading. Those things didn’t matter.