by Mary Duke
“Are you fucking serious?” I said, taking a step closer to Kegan and reaching for my dagger.
“They’re not like the hounds you know,” Illiah said, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“They are all the same.”
“No. Jessy and Harvy are the original hounds; my dad raised them as his own,” she explained clapping her hands together. “My dad gave them to me when we moved here.”
“Maybe they’re inside?” I asked, nodding to the open door.
“Perhaps,” Illiah said.
“Be careful,” Kegan said reaching out to me. “I don’t like this place. The situation. Or any of it.”
“Something definitely feels off,” I replied. “Nothing seems to add up.”
“Lies never do,” Kegan said keeping close behind me as I followed Illiah into the house.
The rustic cabin in the woods theme went no farther than the front door. Everything, from the floor, the walls, the ceiling, was white.
Illiah’s pace quickened and she muttered under her breath, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying.
Illiah rushed through the house, flinging open doors and scanning the rooms. “Jayantha! Jayantha Harlow!”
“Is she somewhere else?” I asked Illiah as she came out of another room.
“No,” Illiah replied. “She never leaves this house. Ever.”
Illiah opened another door, but this time the room was not empty.
A woman sat facing a window, her messy red hair resting on her shoulders, a hound on either side.
The hounds’ ears perked and one of them came running towards us barking.
Illiah fell to her knees and held her arms out, as my hand fell to my dagger, just in case.
“Harvy!” Illiah called as he began licking her face, and the other joined him. “I see you too, Jessy.”
The woman facing the window never moved.
“Jayantha,” Illiah said standing up, as she patted the dogs on the head. “Jayantha Harlow.”
“Just leave what you brought,” the woman shrieked in frustration. “I am busy, and I have no desire to converse with you.”
Illiah turned her head back to me and took a deep breath. “Mom?”
The woman in the chair gasped, jumping up from the white rocker. “Illiah.”
“Yeah,” Illiah said. “It’s me.”
“Where have you been?” the woman said frantically, filling the gap between her and her daughter. “How are you? Are you alright? What happened?” she asked mulling over every inch of Illiah. “And who are they?”
A small smile spread across Illiah’s face, as she steadied her mother’s shaking hands. “There is so much I want to tell you. But I don’t know how much time I have here.”
“What do you mean? Where will you be going?” she asked, shaking her head. “You’ve just returned. You needn't be going anywhere.”
Illiah grabbed a hold of her mother's hand and placed it on her chest, just as she had with her gran, so she could feel her mortal heart beating again.
Jayantha pulled a knife from the back of her waistband and stepped between us. “What have you done to her?” she demanded, waving the knife in my face.
Taking my hand off my dagger, I took a step back and looked to Illiah for help, not wanting to do anything I’d later regret.
“Mom,” Illiah said pulling her mother's arm down. “These are my friends.”
“Friends?” Jayantha said shaking her head. “No. They can’t be. The only person I’ve seen you with in the last five hundred years has been Fabien.”
“They’re new friends,” Illiah said trying to assure her mother.
“New, and you brought them here!”
“They saved me, Jayantha. If it wasn’t for them, I’d be dead right now.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Illiah told her mother what had happened to her. How she had been kidnapped and drained of her powers. And lastly how we saved her.
For a moment her mother sat in silence, pondering the story that had just come from her daughter's lips before she muttered a single word. “Who?”
Illiah glanced over at Tork, who now sat in front of the couch where he’d laid Zavery. “Ellyra.”
“Ellyra,” her mother repeated in disbelief. “My Ellyra? The Queen of the Faye?”
Illiah’s eyes darted over her mother’s face, as she waited for a reaction.
Before Jayantha could respond, Zavery’s voice drew the attention of the room. “What do you mean your Ellyra?” he asked sitting up on the couch.
Jayantha’s eyes narrowed as though she had been insulted, as she looked over the young man on her couch. “Ellyra and I were friends for many years,” she responded, her eyes focused on Zavery’s. “That was until you were born.”
Zavery’s lips curled and he nodded his head slightly. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“I bet not,” Jayantha replied.
“Why did she ditch you?” Zavery questioned, leaning back on the couch, as he rubbed his eyes with this hands.
For a moment she sat in silence, pondering the right words she wanted to use.
“You’re not going to offend me. When it comes to my mother, hell, when it comes to my family, I don’t think I could think any less of them.”
Jayantha’s lip curled in disgust. “Though your mother and I had our differences, and those differences ended our friendship, I still care for that woman deeply.” She said, “It was Ellyra who decided to part ways, not I.”
“Oh,” Zavery replied, realizing he may have put his own foot in his mouth.
“Alas, the reason is evident, and I’m not the only one who knows, so I do feel it pertinent that you heard it from me before you hear it from someone else,” Jayantha said as she ran her hand down Illiah’s cheek.
“Your mother, like myself, had always been gifted with magic. One of my gifts was being a highly skilled reader. I had the rare ability to read one’s aura. To know what’s pulling their soul, and what will drive or is driving them,” Jayantha’s eyes fell back onto Zavery. “On the day of your birth, I was there. I heard your first cries, I helped clean the blood from your cheeks. From that moment, from your first breath I knew,” she said shaking her head. “I knew what was, was once again.”
“The curse,” Zavery said. “The one my grandfather had brought into our family.”
“Indeed,” Jayantha nodded. “What do you know about it? More so what do you know about your role?”
“The only role I play in the curse is the blood that flows in my veins,” Zavery said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“I’m afraid you are wrong,” Jayantha said, shifting her weigh back into the chair.
Zavery cocked his head to the side, a smirk growing across his face. “What do you think you know?”
Fighting the urge to slap the smirk from his face, Jayantha turned from him and scanned over the rest of us. “Don’t you find it odd that there have only been girls born into your family in the last, I don’t know, several hundred years? Don’t you find it odd that the day you were born, every single living family member in your bloodline vanished?”
This caught Zavery’s attention.
“A line in the contract between Quint Ryker and your grandfather Archer Blade read: ‘To Any Men Born from the Blade Bloodline, That Bares the Mark of Ryker, Their Souls Will Be Bound, and the cycle repeats.’” Jayantha said, her focus again settling on Zavery.
“What cycle?” he asked, confused.
“One thousand souls are to be paid to Quint Ryker, in exchange for what you want most,” she answered.
“That doesn’t make sense, I made no deal,” he said. “Nor do I bare the mark of Ryker, or know what it is for that matter.”
“You do bare the Ryker mark,” she corrected him. “I’ve seen it. I helped conceal it.”
Zavery held his hands out to the side as he stood up. “Show me then.”
Jayantha slowly rose to her feet,
Illiah following her. “Take off your shirt,” she commanded, pointing at his chest.
He complied, tossing his shirt onto the couch, as Tork rose to his side.
She placed her hand on his chest. The moment their skin connected, she fell to the floor in agony. Screaming in pain, she began pulling at her ears, before clawing at her eyes.
Illiah fell to the floor beside her mother, restraining her arms. “What did you do?”
Zavery took a step back.
“Stop it! Leave her alone!” Illiah said, struggling to keep a hold of her mother’s arms.
I fell to my knees beside Illiah, cupping my hands over her mother’s eyes, and looked up to Zavery.
“I’m not doing anything,” he replied, taking another step back.
“She’s been hexed,” I said, trying to focus the magic in my hands and will it to do what I wanted.
Jayantha wailed in pain, flailing around on her floor beneath Illiah and me.
“I need something...a rock, a stick, something I can redirect this into,” I said looking to Kegan.
“Do you think you can?” he questioned, reaching for my bag.
“I’ve done it before,” I reminded him. “Why should this time be any different?”
“You know why this is different; the Queen is more powerful,” Kegan’s voice whispered in my head.
“Do you see anyone else stepping up?” I questioned him forcefully, trying not to actually open my mouth. “If I don’t do this, she’s going to die.”
Zavery knelt down beside me. “How can I help?”
I rubbed my temples and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves and slow my racing heart.
“I could channel you, but this isn’t going to be easy,” I said looking up at him before I shifted my focus to Illiah. “Nor do I know what’s going to happen.”
“Anything,” Zavery said, his voice shaky. “I can’t let her win, not again.”
“Okay, place your hands over mine; we’re going to start at her chest and work our way to her eyes, I believe that’s where this is centered.
Together Zavery and I cleansed Jayantha, redirecting the dark magic into the stone we held together.
“There has to be another way,” Kegan said reaching out to me.
I chanted louder, hoping he would get the hint.
“Something is not right. There’s more to this than you know.”
“If you’re not going to help, at least stay quiet,” I muttered under my breath while keeping my focus on removing the darkness that filled her body.
I watched as Tork took Zavery’s shoulders in his hands, focusing his energy.
“This is a mistake,” Kegan said copying his brother and channeling his energy through me.
With every wave of darkness Zavery and I transferred into the stone, flashes of Jayantha’s memories skimmed through our minds, too fast for either of us to make sense of them at first, though the closer we got to her eyes, it became clear that we were seeing through her eyes into the memories The Queen had locked away.
The Queen stood alone in her room staring out a large bay window, Zavery playing with some toys in the corner of the room.
Jayantha’s voice cracked in fear. “You sent for me, my Queen.”
“Close the door,” the Queen commanded, her voice calm.
It wasn’t until we could see Jayantha’s reflection in the large window that The Queen spoke again.
“Who did you tell?” she asked, her voice low.
“I’ve told no one,” Jayantha replied instantly, her heart beginning to race.
“I’ll ask you again, as your friend. Who did you tell?” the Queen repeated, maintaining the same monotone voice.
Jayantha fell to her knees beside the Queen and bowed her head as tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I’ve told no one.”
The Queen turned, the back of her hand landing on the side of Jayantha’s face, knocking her off balance. “Your husband came to see me today. He knows everything,” she said, the monotone gone. “EVERYTHING!”
Jayantha scurried to her feet. “He only knows of the curse,” she tried to explain.
“You swore to me, Jayantha. You swore on your life… You swore on our friendship,” she said as a hysterical laugh escaped her lips. “I trusted you.”
“Your trust was not misplaced. My word remains unbroken,” Jayantha tried to convince her.
“Lies,” the Queen said walking towards her.
Jayantha held her hand out in front of her in hopes to stop the Queen from coming any closer. “I am not lying, I’ve told him nothing, see for yourself,” she pleaded, revealing her palms.
The Queen’s eyes studied her, watching her reactions as she stepped closer and grabbed her hand, diving into the memories she needed to see.
The anger melted from her face as her heart dropped and she returned to the window.
“My Queen?” Jayantha questioned.
“LEAVE,” she commanded.
“Please talk to me.”
“I ORDER YOU to leave,” the Queen repeated.
“You know I don’t take orders, not from my friends.”
“We are no longer friends.”
“No longer friends?” Jayantha repeated, surprised.
“It is not wise for one to be friends with someone who is sleeping with the enemy.”
“The enemy!” she said taking another step towards her.
“Did you know Illian was coming to speak to me today?” the Queen questioned.
Jayantha shook her head.
“Do you know what deal he tried to offer me?”
Jayantha’s gaze fell to Zavery before returning to the Queen.
The Queen’s lips curled into a smirk as she shook her head trying to keep herself from letting loose. “He wants my son. My only child. The only child I’ve been able to carry for the last ten years. I will not give him up.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jayantha said, taking another step towards her, in hopes of calming her down.
“No,” the Queen said, all the emotion draining from her face.
“I can talk to him, you know he listens to me.”
“I don’t need you,” the Queen said looking down at her hands. “Nor is it I that should fear him… No,” she muttered to herself. “It is he, who should fear me.”
“Ellyra please,” Jayantha said calling the Queen by her first name.
The Queen continued to mutter as her eyes shifted from Zavery to her own hands. “He’s not the only one who came to see me today. He’s not the only one who had a deal to offer.”
“Ellyra,” Jayantha repeated. “You are scaring me. I’ve done nothing but help you. From the moment you knew you were with child, I was there.”
The Queen raised her trembling hands.
Jayantha took a deep breath in an attempt to hide her fear. “Remember who it was who helped cover his mark. I know everything, including your pain.”
“You know nothing of my pain!” the Queen spat, closing the two-foot gap between them. “But you are right, you do know too much, but not for long,” she said as she pushed her palms into Jayantha’s eyes.
The memory faded, and Jayantha’s wails stopped.
“Illiah,” Jayantha said reaching for her daughter's cheek.
“I’m right here, mom,” Illiah responded, watching her mother’s eyes dart back and forth.
“Did you see that too?” she asked trying to sit up.
“See what?” Illiah asked.
“We saw it,” I said, “Zavery and I.”
Jayantha shook her head as she scooted back against a chest. “Do you know what night that was, Sno?”
“No,” I replied.
“I didn’t at the time… But later I found out who she was watching out the window. That was the night before the guards came for you and your family. She had just told her husband that it was between Zavery and you, that they had to kill you in order to protect their child.”
“And he warned my parents?
” I said.
“Yes, he did, and she saw it as a betrayal,” Jayantha said, rubbing her eyes.
Harvy growled, pulling our attention away from Jayantha.
“We have to leave,” Illiah said standing.
“Why?” Zavery asked joining her on his feet.
“Harvy says Quint and his minions are on their way here. They know we’re here.”
“How do they know?” Jayantha asked, surprised.
“I don’t know, and we don’t have time to find out,” Illiah said helping her mother stand.
“How do we get to the grove from here?” Sno questioned.
“I have some portal dust from your father,” Jayantha said, stumbling forward as magic cracked outside.
“They’re here,” Kegan and Tork said at the same time.
“I’ll hold them off,” Jayantha said, pulling her hand free of Illiah’s.
“You can’t hold them all off on your own,” Illiah said.
“I won’t be alone,” she assured her. “I have Harvy and Jessy.”
“Mom,” Illiah said shaking her head.
“Go,” her mom commanded, as the shouting from outside grew louder.
“I just lost Gran,” Illiah said picking up her mother's hand again. “I can’t lose you too.”
“Have faith, my child,” her mother assured her.
“I do, but…”
“In the end,” her mother said interrupting her. “It is you who will save us all. Not me. Not Gran. Not your father. You.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“These things are amazing,” Zavery said as the grove came into view.
“They are, but they’re so rare,” I replied. “How did your mom get a hold of one?”
“She said my father, but she’s been known to barter,” Illiah said adjusting the pack on her back.
“What could she have that someone’s willing to exchange portal dust for?” I asked out of curiosity.
“You’d be surprised,” Illiah responded. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you half of the things that came through that door when I was growing up.”
I laughed, knowing the feeling. “So I take it this is the grove?”
“It is,” a man said from behind us.
We all spun on our heels, ready for anything.