by E Hall
“Do you think this is where they keep the shadow fae?” I ask.
We start walking inland.
An indent in the rock-strewn ground shows where we landed with the Grunder. In the distance, a haze hangs over a many-spired palace. It’s eerily quiet. There isn’t a breeze. It’s a barren wasteland where nothing grows. Just stones in all shapes and sizes, desert dust, and stillness. Soren’s tale about Oeten the Devourer and his pet Grunter playing toss with the stones comes to mind.
Callen scrambles down an incline and points. “That’s unusual.”
“That looks like a chasm,” Soren says.
In the distance, a blood-red fissure cuts through the landscape. We stand on a stone precipice that drops steeply into the valley below. A sudden gust of wind blows.
Lea’s gaze flashes with fury and sorrow. “I’ve never seen something so ugly and so wrong.”
A vein of fire and molten rock spews from a deep cleft, cutting a line through the ground.
“It’s like a wound,” Kiki says, joining us.
“It reminds me of a story about my kind. It’s said that long ago, a fissure in the land swallowed up a murder of ravens. They struggled to exist in the embers, but those that survived, rose triumphantly, becoming Phoenix, who will forever find renewal from the ashes.”
“The story I heard in the whisperings and murmurings of the castle was that the king of the Southlands had something sinister going on. I didn’t imagine this was it.” Callen wipes his brow.
“The king is dead,” Lea says. “But Glandias could’ve picked up where he left off just as she did in Terra.”
“Likely,” I say.
We follow a rocky path winding into the valley, treading carefully in the dim light with our backs to a wall of sandy stone. I have to pay attention to my footing, but the red line of the chasm repeatedly draws my eyes to it.
When we stop to assess what direction to go, even when my eyes are closed, the red line blazes through my vision. It gets hotter the closer we get. Fire and molten rock erupt from it like a geyser of blood. We creep through the empty landscape until we reach a low building. The palace looms in the distance.
There’s no sign of movement or life. Nonetheless, my posture changes as I prepare for trouble. Callen stands tall and takes the lead in alpha mode. He opens a heavy door and enters slowly. It’s silent and pitch black.
Val sends a little orb of light ahead of us to illuminate a stairwell. We pad down about ten flights and stop at a window-like opening on a landing. Through it, conveyors move chunks of giant coal-like embers. People operate stations with tanks of water, pulverizing machines, and something that looks like it sifts chunks of the embers. The workers are dirty and covered in soot—even their teeth are black and their eyes empty, hard. They wear clothing the color of burned metal and singed at the edges. In the distance, I hear the familiar, clink, clink of a hammer and anvil.
“Shadow fae,” Lea whispers.
We all look to Callen for an explanation.
He urges us away from the window. “She’s right. They’re working in the forge...mining for metal.” He glances over his shoulder. “Must be elven metal.”
Val wipes sweat from her forehead. “Does this mean they’re making weapons for the fae, who’re also weapons?”
I wrinkle my brow confused and alarmed in equal measure. I’ve seen this kind of metal before. I clear my throat. “Looks that way.”
“We have to do something to free them,” Kiki says.
Soren presses his lips together. “Where I came from, in Raven’s Landing, fae were expendable. Whoever is doing this has them hooked on stijl. Even if we freed them, they wouldn’t know what to do. They’d come back, needing more of the drink.”
“Stijl? Jurik had the fae at RIP Jr drink that.” Lea swallows hard, shrinking deeper into her shadow.
Back outside, I’m glad the sun isn’t bright, but the red suffused gloom is creepy.
Soren says, “Fae who get hooked on stijl will do anything to get their fix. Including, it seems, working in mines, extracting those ember-like rocks. Inside is elven metal, they melt it down and—”
“And make weapons,” I say.
“Mining elven metal is dangerous.” Val presses her hand against her mouth. “Elves have a special process because the elements in the metal are magical, receptive. They can listen to intentions. Elves project protection and other relatively positive qualities when they work the metal.”
“Whatever is happening here is the opposite.” Lea is grayer than usual.
I rope my arm around her and pull her to my side, but she doesn’t melt against me. She’s stiff, sullen.
“When in the wrong hands, it can provide an undefeatable army of warriors with undefeatable weapons,” Callen says.
Strictly speaking, this wasn’t my fight to begin with, but it is now. A terrible sensation fills me with dread, denser than I’ve ever felt—it’s a sense of loss before the battle has even begun.
“A substance for eternal life is found in trace amounts in elven metal. Handling it can extend life, which explains why elves live so long and in seclusion in the east,” Val says, adding to Callen’s comment.
“Is this like, a Rivendell thing?” I ask.
Everyone except Lea stares at me.
“Never mind,” I mutter.
“Is Rivendell a Terra thing?” Soren asks.
I nod.
Val says, “Anyway, this stuff sounds dangerous. Not only if it falls into the wrong hands, but it can throw everything off. Imagine a Grunder who is invincible?”
“No thank you,” Callen says.
“We need to stop production,” Val says.
“We could sabotage it,” I suggest. “Lea is a world-class prankster.”
“We should make our move and fast,” Soren says. “Otherwise—”
A deep thud, thud, thud, comes from nearby, breaking the silence. Everyone freezes, listening.
“Otherwise—” Soren repeats. His eyes dart to Kiki.
Callen says, “I think we’re about to find out.”
My stomach sinks. I whip my head in the direction of footfalls approaching at a march.
Lea’s eyes darken and she stiffens. The others poise for attack.
My fists clench and my body tenses, preparing to protect my friends.
Over the rise, a battalion of shadow fae approach.
“We left our weapons in Terra.” Kiki’s eyes flash with fear. “I can do karate, but this is overwhelming.”
“Freedom or defeat,” Val says.
“I’ve made my choice,” Callen answers. He kisses her and then shifts into a wolf.
Lea stands by my side with a blank look on her face. It’s almost as if she sees a place among the ranks of the approaching soldiers. A place where she belongs and is waging an internal battle.
Before we discuss strategy, Kiki and Val charge into the shadow fae with their magic blasting in every direction. Soren takes to the sky.
Despite this, they swarm, soon surrounding those of us on the ground in a gray cloud.
We won’t give up that easily. The fighting begins with the first sounds of my pounding fists and Callen’s growl. Lea stands like a pillar of confusion as though not sure which side to fight on. I guard her, fending off the shadow fae, attacking their own kind.
They’re little more than weapons, given orders to strike. They have nothing at stake. No passion for a cause. No deep, driving desire that fuels their triumph. Glandias and the other false kings may have rended the fae shadows to create the strongest, most indestructible soldiers. But for us, we have a fierceness of will, a yearning for freedom so powerful that we will go to any means necessary to obtain it, especially fight back.
So we do. Well, everyone except Lea. She’s stationary, lost in a trance, conflicted.
Val, on the other hand, is a dynamo. She throws a punch with one fist and the other is a spray of magic that throws back an entire line of shadow fae soldiers.
Kiki holds her own as she dodges, sweeps the legs out from a couple of fae in one impressive spin, and then punches one in the stomach with Frost Fae power.
As I lunge to defend Lea, my head whips back, knocking into a fae soldier’s shoulder as another tries to restrain me. The surrounding voices and shouting echo. They jostle Lea as she watches on.
This isn’t how it’s going to go. I’m not going down before I even get started. I inhale, lean into the fae behind me, draw my knees into my chest and with the full force of all that’s been taken from me, I kick my attacker, sending him careening. His arms windmill and he collapses.
I take this moment to break free, strike another shadow soldier with my elbow, and move in to protect Lea.
Two more take me on, but as my desire for freedom blazes inside, I become a flame of destruction launching my fists and landing kicks.
All around me, brawn meets the indomitable spirits of my new friends in a furious demonstration of force of will over might. I call out, cheering everyone on.
Even so, there are too many of the shadow soldiers. One by one, we’re all captured until only Lea remains, standing in their midst as though frozen.
I’m close enough that I take her hand and hold tight. Meeting her overcast eyes, I say, “I’ll never let go, not even if the enemy drives a stake through my heart. I love you, Lea.”
She blinks a few times, but I’m afraid I’ve lost her.
Chapter 29
Leajka
Glandias appears on the battlefield, looking ghastly in the eerie red light of the Southlands with her scarred face and bald head. Circling it is a crown with a red stone in the center.
I’m locked in a storm of conflict. The abundance of shadow fae overwhelms that part of me, pulling at me like a magnet. But it’s nothing to the love of my sisters, Tyrren, and new friends. Val and Kiki rescued me, Tyrren said that he loves me, and the others are willing to fight by my side. I’m torn between what I am and who I am. I focus my thoughts on the light and the promise I made never to forget no matter how dark it gets.
“What a delightful surprise. Guests, welcome to my new home.” Glandias holds her hands out wide.
Val snorts. “You should take some pointers from my great-grandmother. Even she has better hospitality than you.”
“Ah, is it Nathina of whom you speak? After the difficulty in Terra, I recently paid her a visit. Got some information from the Library of Memories.” Glandias cackles.
“See, I told you it was true,” Kiki mutters.
“I’m only sorry that the former king of the Southlands didn’t invite me over sooner.” Glandias adjusts the crown circling her head.
“You mean Emeric, your son?” Lea asks.
Glandias, ignoring me, taps her chin. “Now, what to do with the raven shifter, the wolf shifter, and the vampire?” She turns to my sisters and me with a wicked sneer. I know all too well what she’ll attempt with us.
The one rule I always had was to forget the past. I have to break that rule, which means pushing out all the bad thoughts, the regrets, the fears, and let in the light.
Glandias approaches Tyrren and draws a longsword.
In eighth grade when I saw him across the hall, I fell I love. He was walking with some guy from our math class. He tilted his head back and laughed. He always saw the good in people. Even me, even when I wasn’t particularly good. It was an unremarkable moment, but I realized then that he was my person. He proved that and more in tenth grade after the attack and every day since.
I may be lost in shadow, but I’ll tell Tyrren that I love him when this is over, which means we have to survive.
I don’t let myself think about anything other than the plan. Not the past even though it’s fodder. Not the future, even though it’s fuel.
Glandias waves her hand, restraining our magic. It’s a heavy, shackling sensation, and much like at RIP Jr.
I straighten and my pulse quickens. I have to do something and do it now. “Glandias, I’ll come into your order if you let my friends go. Grant them freedom and I will do your bidding.”
She tilts her head as though considering this.
Kiki watches the crown carefully.
Glandias’s gaze narrows. “The vampire could be useful in the forge. The shifters are useless, but you three—” She eyes my sisters and me.
I inhale deeply as fiery rage builds within. The thing about fire is it casts light. Just what I need to fight the shadows.
Glandias’s dry laughter fans the flames. I prepare to tackle her, to destroy her even without magic if I have to.
“Don’t get any wicked ideas, shadow fae. You’re no match for me without your magic. Listen, the three of you plus one more are part of the prophecy to be the count’s undoing.” She shakes her head slowly. “No, it’s not a prophecy but a promise. You, see, I have no interest in him ruling.”
“Yet, you wear his crown.” The stone almost looks black in the half-light.
“This was Emeric’s crown, but I suppose it suits me better as the stone amplifies my power.”
Kiki eyes it hungrily.
“Not too long ago, I formulated a substance to gain control over the vampires and use their strength to my advantage. I wonder how much it would take to get him to rip out your throats.” She angles the sword at Tyrren.
“Why are you doing this?” Kiki asks.
Ah, the old get the villain to explain their shady morals trick. I’m guessing Kiki and I have the same taste in movies.
“Since the three fae are instrumental in my rise to power and one of you added to my collection of scars, I’ll tell you. When I was young, I was in a fire. My parents didn’t survive. I was put into the care of my uncle. Sound familiar, Lea?”
I shiver and try to find some warmth.
“He was a cold, calculating man, but saw to it that I received the best medical care to improve what he referred to as my upsetting appearance. Scars covered nearly my entire body and when I was well enough to go in public, people would whisper and tease. They’d stare and ridicule.” She turns sharply. “Now, I have you faetchers to thank for new scars. After one of the more difficult grafts on my face, I fell ill and had to spend a long time convalescing. My nurse moved me into the library of my uncle’s home because she felt the sunshine in that room would do me good.” Glandias paces in front of us, gazing at her troops as though they’re her happy ending.
“You grew up in Terra?” Tyrren asks.
Glandias nods. “The rays reminded me of the fire that licked and then devoured my skin. But the books—the stories of military tactics and warfare sparked my attention. I consumed them much like the blaze and ridicule consumed me. The books were my antidote, in fact. I began to devise a plan to build my own empire. The poor kid who lost her parents. The freakish girl with the melted skin. The one who discovered a rune in a book that led to another realm. It made me believe that my triumph would come from strategy and power. There were a few detours. I studied to be a mage, had a son, returned to Terra for a time—”
“And now you want to destroy it and rule the Borean realm.” Kiki narrows her eyes.
“That puts a tidy little bow on things, doesn’t it?” Glandias says. “I will see these troops rise to their potential.” She gazes out at the lines of shadow fae with their eyes clouded over. “There is just one little hiccup. Count Vlad is posing a problem, hidden away somewhere in the realm and I’m relying on the three of you to lead me to him.”
“Why would we do that?” Val asks.
Glandias tilts her head with feigned curiosity. “Cooperate or your friends will pay.” She approaches me with sure footing and her nasty smile wrinkles her scarred cheeks.
The fire within blisters and burns. I don't do anything to extinguish it and glare at her.
“The others know better than to try to fight me, Lea. But I suppose you can’t be blamed for your behavior, considering you’re little more than shadow. Now, let’s see. There’s Soren the fatherless son of the fal
len Raven Kingdom.” She paces past him. “We have Callen, who’s little more than a cursed wolf shifter.” She sneers at him.
“Do you mean a night howl?” Tyrren asks.
By the grim expressions of the others in response the answer is yes.
“Learned about them in class at RIP Jr. There’s a sanctuary to break the curse in Concordia where the Alpha Guardians are.” Tyrren shrugs.
Glandias dismisses Tyrren’s interlude. “Of course, the newest member of your little crew, the vampire, Tyrren. We’ll finish our tests later. This leaves me with the three fae sisters. There’s really no sense in prolonging this scenario. Ineke, Valora, and Leajka, I command you lead me to your father.” Glandias uses our true names.
Kiki and Val slouch and their expressions slacken. I recall Emeric using my name, how I bent to his will, feeling a pull that I couldn’t resist. This time, I don’t feel the fog or the sense that I’m slipping into a dream.
Kiki reaches into her pocket and produces the compass. “I need the stone from your crown.” Her voice is robotic.
Glandias’s eyes widen and she snatches the compass, quickly removing the stone from the crown and popping it into the empty spot indicating south. She turns in a circle as though trying to make sense of the spinning needle in the middle. She flashes a glare at Kiki. “Make this work.”
My sister holds out her hands. “Only one of us can use it.”
“I don’t trust you.” Glandias puts it in my hands likely because I’m already in shadow.
I blink slowly, keeping up the ruse.
“Leajka, use the compass. Lead me to your father.”
I force myself not to flinch when she says father. Doesn’t she mean Count Vlad?
I study the compass as though reading something important. When we first met, Kiki explained that the compass served four purposes. It can take you where you’d like to go, lead you to your heart’s greatest desire, to the location of the four missing stones in each of the pockets, and to its owner.
I turn in a slow circle like Glandias did moments before. The needle lands on Tyrren. “He knows where to go,” I say robotically, mimicking Kiki.