by Kyra Quinn
“We know the stones you speak of,” Kazimir said after a pregnant pause. “But you won’t find any in Killara. Not anymore.”
Seth shook his head, his expression somber. “The late King Baron’s armies purged all magic they could find from this land a century ago. His men slaughtered most of the Fey population and burned anything they found with magical properties.”
Aster’s heart shattered like glass beneath her ribcage. No blood stones. No magic. All her lies and secrets and the danger she’d placed herself in had amounted to nothing. She had no choice but to return home empty handed and admit her failures.
“Hey,” Seth murmured when he caught her eye, “Don’t despair. Whatever you needed the blood stones for, you strike me as a clever girl. I’m sure you’ll find another way.”
Aster slammed her fist into the ground. “There is no other way! I traveled here from Carramar for a reason. This place, these blood stones...they were my last hope.”
“What did you need them for?” Adrian asked. “Blood mages derive their magic from soul stones.”
Aster bit her lip. “Unless they lose it.”
“Lose it? How did you lose it?” Seth asked.
“Doesn’t matter. What matters is replacing my powers before Astryae suffers for my ineptness.”
Kazimir snorted. “That’s dramatic, no?”
Aster shook her head. “No. Not if you’re cursed with the weight of the future around your neck.”
In what felt like hours, Aster filled them in on everything she and Lili had learned about the war threatening to destroy Astryae. When she finished their faces appeared ashen in the candlelight.
“Are you sure?” Seth asked, his voice hushed.
Aster leaned closer. “I can prove it. I can show you, if you’ll assist me in finding supplies.”
The room fell silent as the three exchanged a curious glance once more. Aster’s skin went cold, and for a moment she worried they might reject her or change their minds about murdering her.
Instead, Seth’s face split into a smile. “I think I know of a place to find what you need, but I can’t promise you’ll like it.”
* * *
Seth hadn’t lied. The further he led Aster through the pitch-black streets of Killara, the less comfortable she felt. Kasimir and Adrian had insisted on staying behind, which only set her nerves more on edge. The pinprick stars above guided their steps through the dark forest. Seth brought no torch or source of light. He offered a small apology but explained the glow would only paint a target on their back to the rest of the depraved souls in Killara. The Shadowfey embraced the darkness in a way only they could, the shadows as familiar as the embrace of a lover.
As Aster followed a few steps behind Seth, she envied how casually he moved through the jungle and into the shambles of a town. The small, cozy homes stood at only ten-feet tall, their wooden frames covered by woven mats and bark. It took all the self-discipline she had to keep her mouth from hanging open as she gawked at the streets flooded with Shadowfey and passives banished into exile.
She studied the faces around her as they walked, her stomach churning with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Some sported human features, their faces and physiques a perfect mirror of an adult passive if not for the glow of their eyes. Others held features Aster had rarely encountered outside of a carnival. A man with hooves for feet and the horns of a goat on either side of his head trot down the street alongside a woman with skin the color of smoke and talons that rivaled any demon.
Despite the diversity in appearances around her, none of the faces flashed with contempt or concern as they passed each other. Shadowfey and passives greeted each other with an ease that sent a shiver through Aster’s bones. Stupid humans. Did they not realize they might end up on the menu?
Seth glanced over and chuckled as if he could hear her thoughts. “Not what you expected?”
Aster shook her head. “I never realized so many were exiled here.”
He chuckled, and the whimsical sound calmed Aster’s nerves a little. “Not everyone who lives in Killara is here by order of exile, witch. Some were born on the island. Others find it easier to live amongst their kind instead of trying to hide or fit in with society in Wyvenmere or Carramar.”
“But the King—”
“The Crown cut all support to Killara after the War of the Ancestors, and exiled those deemed traitors here to die, yes. But when the King withdrew his support, he also withdrew his troops. Most passives and children of the light stayed as far from Killara as they could. Soon, what the rest of Astryae regarded as a nightmare became a place of sanctuary for Fey persecuted for their tainted blood.”
Aster chewed over the information, and her thoughts fell back to the coven. Blood mages had no better of a reputation than sirens or vampires. Madre had spent Aster’s entire life fighting to change that perception, but public opinion was often impossible to sway once cemented. Many still sneered at those who wore the coven’s cloaks or markings in mixed company. Most of the blood mages Aster knew did all they could to disguise themselves as passives or spirit mages when outside of the safety of the Grove.
A few feet away, a woman with skin that mirrored a blood moon threw back her head in laughter that reminded Aster of the bells of the clock tower in Carramar. Thick dark hair was pulled back behind small pointed horns on either side of her head, her eyes the color of blood. She stood across from a man with narrow yellow eyes, his nose twitching as he snickered.
Whatever conversation they’d been entranced in, they stopped the moment the female creature noticed Aster watching them. Her eyes narrowed as her hands flew to her wide hips beneath a taunt black dress that cut off an inch below her round backside.
“Can we help you?” she snarled, her accent so thick Aster had to struggle to decipher her words.
“Forgive us,” Seth said with a charming smile. “My friend here is new to town. We’re passing through.”
“New?” The man’s eyes flashed with something Aster couldn’t make out. “What has she done to earn exile?”
Seth opened his mouth to answer, but Aster blurted, “Necromancy. My coven exiled me on charges of necromancy.”
Seth winced, but the couple’s faces lit up with excitement. They moved closer to Aster and Seth, their razor teeth glimmering in the pale sliver of moonlight.
“Aren’t you a little young to be toying with the magic of the dead?” the woman purred.
Aster shrugged, careful to hold her ground and hide any trace of intimidation. “Is there a proper age to break the law?”
“Any age, if you ask the people around here,” Seth said with a wink. He reached for her arm. “We should take our leave. We have a limited amount of time before the sun rises.”
“A child of night.” The woman leaned in closer and squinted at Seth. “I thought you resembled Vira.”
“So everyone says. I’m afraid she’s waiting for us, and she isn’t what one would call patient.”
“Don’t let us keep you,” the man said. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon.”
Something in his voice sent a shiver down Aster’s back. But Seth’s smile never slipped as they exchanged goodbyes. When the couple disappeared far behind them, Aster said, “Creepy.”
Seth chuckled. “They can be. Lady Yedira and Lord Krazis are a part of the Modern Peace Party here in Killara. They roam the streets making sure the various factions and clans are playing nicely and not bullying the passives.”
“Does it happen often?”
He shook his head. “Most have coexisted. Now and then a rogue nest or militia of morons show up to stir the pot, but the MPP always shuts them down before they create too much noise. They also act as an occasional liaison between Killara and the mainland.”
Seth reached down and took her hand, his skin cold. He led her down the well-trodden dirt path through the maze of shanty houses and buildings without another word. Aster’s throat burned with questions she forced herself to swallow ba
ck, at least until they’d completed their quest. They couldn’t afford any distractions, not for the sake of curiosity.
Finally, Seth paused outside of what appeared to be the ruins of an unfinished castle. Stone walls covered in thick layers of ivy and vines reached for the sky, no roof or ceiling above. Piles of stones and debris covered the ground around the structure. A deep, empty ditch surrounded the ruins on all sides. Aster eyed the broken wooden bridge to the gatehouse with bemusement. At first glance, it almost appeared as if the builders had taken a break for lunch one day and never returned.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice low.
“Your supplies.”
“Here?” She shot a skeptical glance towards the rotted bridge. “I don’t understand…”
Seth grinned and gestured towards the ruins. “Welcome to the Dustlock Den. If anyone can help us find what we need, it’s Vira.”
Aster froze. She had no desire to follow Seth into the creepy ruins, but the wild look in his eye suggested she didn’t have much choice. She glanced into the open windows on the front of the castle, but only found darkness.
“When you said Dustlock Den, I thought you meant a tavern or mistweed den,” Aster grumbled. “Is anyone in there?”
Seth steepled his fingers together in front of him. “Why don’t you come inside and find out?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
She hesitated, but a sense of warmth filled her chest and spread through her body. The suspicions she’d had seconds before melted away as Seth. He held out a hand as if asking her to dance. Without thinking, she placed her palm in his and returned his smile.
“You’re not scared, are you?” he teased.
She should have been, but Seth’s touch rooted her in calmness. Her smile stretched. “Never. Show me what we’ve come for, bloodsucker.”
She couldn’t see Seth in the darkness, but she imagined him rolling his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later. Let’s go.”
He pulled her towards the broken bridge. Compared to the rest of the unfinished castle, the bridge appeared to be a temporary measure or an afterthought. Frayed ropes supported narrow wooden planks, many of them broken or missing. Towards the center, dirt and fallen debris buried much of the bridge.
Aster gave Seth’s arm a tug to slow him down. “How are we supposed to cross that?”
“We’re not. The moat has all but dried up.”
Aster’s nose wrinkled. “But I’ll get mud on my boots…”
“Girl, I get it.” Seth touched a hand to his chest, and for the first time Aster noticed the perfect fit of his clothes despite their faded and soiled condition. “But I can’t go in there alone and explain to Vira why I need random ingredients for a witch’s spell. Come talk to her.”
Aster’s muscles locked. “You never told me I had to talk to anyone. And I’m not a witch.”
“Witch, mage, whatever you want to call yourself. And I figured that much was assumed.” Seth folded his arms over his chest. “No one inside will hurt you. You’re under my protection.”
Aster snorted. “Thanks, that fills me with confidence.” When Seth groaned, she sighed. “Fine. Lead the way before I change my mind.”
But Seth shook his head. “If we approach unannounced, things could get messy. It’s best we wait for them to invite us in.”
Aster smirked as an old piece of vampire lore crossed her mind. “I thought vampires were the ones who needed an invitation to enter?”
Seth rolled his eyes. “An old superstition invented to help the passives sleep easier at night. If a vampire wants you dead, they need no formal invitation. It is the natural order.”
“Some say our existence alone defies the natural order.”
Before Seth answered, the heavy wooden doors of the gatehouse swung open with a deafening groan. Two silhouettes stood in the doorway, their faces obscured by shadows.
“Seth,” two feminine voices said in unison, as if singing the words to a song only they knew. “You’ve brought company.”
“Friend, not food. We’re here to speak with Vira.”
“Oh?” They cooed. “How interesting. What about?”
“Must they speak in tandem?” Aster huffed. “It’s more than a little creepy.”
“I’m not convinced the twins don’t share a single brain,” Seth said under his breath. He straightened his spine and told the girls, “Our business with Vira is confidential. But tell her it’s urgent.”
The twin shadows sighed. “Same old Seth. Secrets are no fun. We will return with Vira’s decision.”
The shadows disappeared before Aster had time to blink. She took a step back, her heart racing. “Is Vira your mother?”
Seth sucked in a breath. “A mortal woman delivered me into this world. She died during the Siege of Starbright.”
A pang of guilt shot through Aster’s chest. She cursed her insufferable curiosity. “My apologies, I—”
“Had no way of knowing. No apology necessary. Vira is the mother of our misfit group of Shadowfey. She’s protected some of us for decades.”
Aster frowned. “So more than vampires are inside?”
“Mostly vampires, but Vira’s taken in a few strays over the years. You’ll see when we get inside, if the twins will move their asses and get out here.”
They hadn’t been waiting long, but Aster shared his impatience. A nervous energy bubbled in her stomach as she wrung her hands in front of her lap. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck, her muscles tense. A den full of Shadowfey. Now she’d seen everything.
After a few minutes the twins returned, still venturing no further than the doorway. “Vira will see you both in the gardens.”
Seth frowned. “Why not inside?”
When the twins spoke, their voices sent a chill down Aster’s back. “You know why.”
For the first time in years, Aster felt two-feet-tall. She sucked in a sharp breath, but Seth said nothing to defend her. He placed an icy hand against her back and gave a stiff nod to the twin shadows.
“Very well. Thank you for your time, ladies.”
Seth used his hand on Aster’s waist to guide her away from the bridge. He said nothing as he led her through the moat, and with the strange vampire girls watching her, Aster didn’t protest. Mud caked the bottoms and sides of her boots. She comforted herself with the thought of absconding another pair when she returned to Carramar with her magic intact as she followed Seth up the steep hill and around the left side of the castle ruins.
Aster studied the castle as they walked, the ruins both majestic and tragic. Two of the corner towers sat unfinished. Half of the back wall had been reduced to rubble by time and weather, the inside shrouded in darkness despite the lack of roof. Two pairs of red eyes followed them as Aster’s heart raced.
“This way,” Seth said, leading her under a moss-covered archway.
Aster’s muscles tightened as she followed him. She whispered a silent protection charm under her breath and prayed the stones wouldn’t collapse and bury them. As little as she trusted vampires, she trusted the decrepit architecture less.
“What happened here?” she asked. “Why is the castle unfinished? Who built a castle in Killara in the first place?”
“The Council of Feyfolk. Or a summer home for the royal family. No one’s sure these days.” Seth shrugged. “Construction stopped when the war broke out. Whoever wanted it either died in the war or changed their mind, because they never returned to finish the job.”
Aster wondered how a nest of vampires had come to inhabit the ruins. But before she could ask Seth, they stepped into a lush bed of grass to stand in front of a tall, pale woman Aster assumed was Vira. Seth fell to his knees before her and gestured for Aster to follow suit.
She had expected to find a woman Madre’s age, possibly older from the description Seth had given. But immortality graced Vira with a youthful beauty blood mages could only envy. She didn’t appear a day over twenty, her china skin free of wrinkles or lines. Her
pointed nose sported a tiny silver hoop. Plump red lips parted into a smile as she gestured for us to stand.
“My child,” she beamed at Seth, “welcome home. I see you’ve brought a guest? Where are Kazimir and Adrian?”
Aster wrapped her arm around her waist, uncertain how Seth expected her to respond. Her legs itched to bolt away from the creepy vampire nest, but she’d never be able to outrun them.
“The others are fine.” Seth touched her arm and said, “This is Aster. She is a blood mage.”
“She doesn’t bear the mark of exile,” Vira noted, her blood-red eyes sweeping over Aster with suspicion.
“I am not exiled here,” she admitted. “I came of my own volition.”
“Brave girl.” Vira smiled. “What brings you to our part of the world? This is not the most popular destination for travel.”
Seth filled Vira in on Aster’s promises of war and her missing soul gem situation as she kicked at the rocks beneath her muddy boots. She had wanted to replace what she’d lost discreetly. Now it seemed everyone in Astryae had learned what an incompetent mage she was.
When Seth finished, Vira tapped her chin with a bony finger. “Interesting. I pity your circumstances, mage, but there is no way for any of us to find the blood stones. The volcano they were forged in died years before anyone here existed. The flames inside responds only to Rhayer.”
Aster swallowed back the urge to tell Vira that if she didn’t replace what she’d lost, Astryae might perish. Instead, she said, “I am also in search of ingredients for a spell to show Seth the threats we face. My quest is bigger than my selfish needs.”
Vira cocked her head. “Interesting,” she repeated. “All right. Tell me what you need, and I will have one of my children fetch your supplies. I too should like to see this danger you speak of.”
* * *
A short time later, a trio of Vira’s creepy children wandered out into the gardens with bundles of supplies cradled against their chest. Identical onyx robes hid their features, their faces buried in the shadows of their oversized hoods. Aster blinked back surprise as they set the offerings down at her feet and backed away without a word. Vira hadn’t moved from their sight. She and Seth had stood next to Aster making small talk, much to Aster’s annoyance. Yet every ingredient Aster had requested was accounted for.