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by Riana Lucas

  “It is okay, Holly,” I reassure her quietly. “It is only Dash. You can lower your weapon.” She does so but not without a suspicious look at both Reed and me. It is only a matter of time before Holly is asking more questions I do not know how to answer. Not wanting that time to be now, I ignore her glare. I motion to the other fae around me, indicating for them to relax their stances. Then I call out to Dash, letting him know it is safe to approach.

  “Dash? Are you near?”

  “Yes, of course. I am always near when you need me.”

  I smile at his reassuring voice in my head. It is so odd that this seems so normal now. A rare mythical creature that any normal fae would be overjoyed just to catch one small glimpse of in their entire life is not only my friend but able to communicate with me mentally and come to help whenever I may need him. It is truly a magical thing.

  “It is safe for you to show yourself,” I reassure him and then wait patiently for him to do so.

  I only have to wait a few second before he is landing softly in front of me, almost out of thin air. The area around me is tight, trees and bushes making for little room for such a massive creature to even be able to fit, but somehow Dash does, looking larger and more beautiful than the last time I saw him. His coat shimmers in the patches of sun that peek through the treetops causing tiny rainbows to dance around us. His wings are pulled tight against his body, but that does not hide the beauty of the downy soft feathers that cover them. The murmurs and soft gasps from the other fae around us tell me they are equally impressed with the picture Dash makes.

  While the others are frozen in shock, Reed and I both move toward Dash. I rub my hand across his nose, up his head, and then down his neck. He is so soft and almost fluffy. “Why are you here? Is everything okay?” I ask as I continue to stroke his neck.

  “Yes. I came here for you. I could sense that you were doing something dangerous and thought you might need me.”

  “You did not have to do that. I do not want you to get harmed.”

  Dash snorts and stomps his foot at this. “I am not the one you should be worried about. You should be more concerned with your own safety. Are you sure this is something you should be doing? Going after the new Unseelie king?” His voice sounds concerned in my mind, but it is nothing I have not heard already, so I choose to ignore most of what he has said.

  “So he has made himself the king, has he?” Dash’s head bobs in confirmation. “I figured as much, but was not sure.”

  “Yes, so you should be even more cautious. A fae with so much to lose will take many more chances. He does not want to lose his seat on that throne and will not give it up easily.”

  “I know, Dash, and we will be. But this is something that must be done. The longer Damien rules the Unseelie court, the stronger he will grow. That is something we cannot risk. He must be dealt with now.”

  Dash nods his head again. “I understand. What can I do to help?”

  I think for a moment, knowing that Dash would prove invaluable in this battle, but also not wanting to risk him getting injured. “Stay back and hidden,” I say. He begins to protest, but I stop him. “I will call for you if I need you. If someone is seriously injured, we will need you to get them out of there quickly and back to safety. Can you do that?”

  He hesitates for a moment, not liking the idea of staying back, but finally nods his head in agreement, understanding the importance of what I need him to do.

  “Thank you, Dash.” I kiss him gently on his nose and step back. Reed gives him a pat on the side of his neck and moves back as well. The others are still staring, mystified, as Dash spreads his wings and lifts into the air. He is gone in seconds.

  I turn back toward the path we were taking. Without looking at the others, I motion for them to begin making their way toward the Unseelie castle again. I know they have questions burning in their minds, but now is not the time or place for explanations. A quick glance at Holly confirms my thoughts, but I quickly look away from her. I do not want her or my other friends angry with me for keeping secrets, but how does one explain that they can not only talk mentally to another being but also to a Pegasus?

  “We’ll tell them as soon as this is over. They’ll understand our reasons for not telling them sooner,” Reed reassures me.

  “I hope you're right,” I answer skeptically. Our friendships have grown strong, so much so that I depend on them in a way I never thought I would. The idea of jeopardizing any of them is a scary thought. Hoping that Reed is right, I push forward.

  After our encounter with Dash, our journey through the Faery Forest and neutral territory is slow and uneventful. My anxiety is growing with every step, and I have to force myself to calm down and remain slow and steady. I am beginning to feel almost bored when it happens.

  There is suddenly a loud scream just behind me that just as quickly turns into a sickening gurgle. I hear the unmistakable sound of bones breaking before I can even turn around to see what is happening. When I do, I am greeted by an unnerving sight: Skye standing still, the fingers of both of his hands wrapped tightly around the neck of a dead Unseelie fae. It is not the sight of the dead fae that is so unnerving, but the sight of Skye himself. His face is set with a look that would terrify even the bravest of fae. His eyes are narrowed but unable to hide their cold black centers surrounded by a deep blood red color. His lips are still pulled back in a silent snarl displaying razor sharp teeth. In his grip the dead fae hangs limply, its head not quite falling the right way. Skye has broken his neck.

  Having heard the scream, a few other fae rush into the area to offer any backup that may be needed. I quickly hold my hands out to them, stopping their progression. As I do this, my eyes never stray away from Skye. I indicate for them to move back and they do so silently and quickly, thankfully not questioning me or putting up any sort of protest. The feral disease is trying to take over Skye, and I can see his struggle with it. Any sort of perceived threat may throw him over the edge into the disease. Giving him time and space will help him to win against it. At least I hope that he will win because I do not wish to lose any of my warriors the way Skye has just taken that faery’s life.

  I stand back, remain calm, and wait patiently. The other fae around me do the same. Reed and Holly remain close to my side, and I can sense other warriors waiting nearby just in case. For what feels like an eternity, but is only moments, we wait silently for Skye to regain control of himself, hoping that he will be able to.

  I can see the moment he finally does. The features on his face begin to soften just slightly, his teeth losing their razor sharpness. The blood red of his eyes begins to recede, leaving a stark white around his deep black pupils. The white-knuckled grip he has on the dead fae’s neck loosens until it drops to the ground with a soft thud. Skye closes his eyes as he gives his head a small shake before looking up to meet my gaze. There is a rueful smile on his face, and I can see that he is embarrassed, but I can also see his fear. Fear that I will not approve, or that we will fear him now.

  Knowing the best way to deal with the entire situation is to ignore the unclaimed part of what just occurred, I quickly commend him. “Good job, Skye. Have your men dispose of the body and let’s keep going. I am anxious to get to the Unseelie court.” Before he is able to respond, I quickly turn and begin my progression through the Faery Forest toward Unseelie territory.

  I hear Skye giving orders, but do not turn back around. He did what he was supposed to do. He protected me along with the rest of our army. There was no other choice but to kill that fae and he did it in the quickest and quietest way possible. He was also able to remain in control of the feral disease and harm only the threat that was made to us. As far as I am concerned, there is no reason to address what happened any further than I already have.

  Reed moves closer to me side, speaking low so that I am the only one that can hear his words. “Are you sure we can really trust the unclaimed to have our backs? What if the others cannot control the disease as well as Skye
just did and attack one of our own in the midst of the battle? I know it would be an accident, but it would still be a death at the hands of those we are calling our allies.”

  Reed brings up a valid concern, but it is one that I am confident we do not need to have. For some reason I trust Skye. I trust that he would only involve others like him: fae that are strong-willed and able to control the disease even when in battle.

  Having read my thoughts, Reed responds before I can voice any of this. “How can you trust him? You just met him.” Reed’s voice becomes harsh and tinged with jealousy. His earlier reaction to Skye comes back to mind, and I smile over at him. “Why are you smiling? This is serious,” he asks irritably.

  “I know,” I say softly, so the others do not hear. “I do not know why I trust him, but I do. There are no words to voice it, only a feeling. It is the same feeling I had telling me I could trust Rowan the first time I met him." Our gaze meets when his eyes snap over to mine at the mention of his father’s name. I can see that he immediately understands this feeling. I do not know what it is, if there is even something specific that can be named, but there was something about Rowan that told me that I could trust him. I feel the same about Skye. Reed sensed it as well when he met his father for the first time.

  “Okay.” He lets out a deep breath. “I understand what you’re saying and I trust you, so I trust him as well.” I smile over at him, but he is not finished. “But I still think we need to be careful. When we reach the castle and engage in combat, I think it is important for the unclaimed to keep their distance. They can watch our backs and step in when needed, but hopefully, our own warriors will be far enough away from them to allow the unclaimed the space they need.”

  His request is reasonable and similar to what Skye has already suggested; therefore I have no problem agreeing with him. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” Reed repeats, nodding once. Then both of us are quiet and focused as we continue walking side by side toward the Unseelie court.

  As we get closer to our destination, the events from earlier fade away and are replaced by the same familiar feelings of coming back to the Unseelie court. The sense of evil and menace begin to seep in. They grow stronger with each step, coursing through the air around us like a soft, cold breeze. The chill and eeriness of the air wraps around me, causing goosebumps to break out over my skin.

  The first step onto Unseelie soil sends shivers up my spine. My unease is almost overwhelming, but my determination is stronger. My eyes narrow and my ears perk in concentration, paying close attention for any possible threat. I do not sense any, therefore, I do not hesitate. I move quickly toward the castle where my prey is waiting, unsuspecting of his coming death. My excitement grows. My friends and warriors are close behind, anticipation humming from each of them as well.

  When the castle walls come into view, my heart rate increases and my grip tightens on the hilts of my daggers. The anticipation is almost too much. I have to force myself to calm down as well as slow down. I cannot let my eagerness outweigh my caution. I cannot allow it to mess up this opportunity. It will probably be our one and only.

  Reed, sensing my anxiety, whispers to me in my head.

  “Don’t worry. You will get what you came for, so just calm down. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “You and your human sayings. I do not get any of them, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I see him shake his head out of the corner of my eye. “So sad, too. The humor in them is completely wasted on you.”

  “So then stop saying them.”

  “I can’t. It’s too funny to watch your confusion when I do.”

  “Oh for faery’s sake, why are we even talking about this?”

  “To distract you. It worked, too. Feel better?”

  “Yes, I do. Thank you.”

  “That’s what I’m here for.”

  I begin to smile, but it quickly turns to a frown. “Shh, I tell Reed as I stop walking, freezing instantly in place as the others around me do the same. I listen intently for what I sensed briefly but hear nothing. I am instantly overwhelmed again with the need to hurry. If we are spotted by the Unseelie at this point, the element of surprise will be completely lost. To have made it so far only to be spotted now would be disastrous. I do not want to risk that. I want this done and over with once and for all. And I want it now.

  “Let’s go then,” Reed whispers in my mind.

  I nod. Reed has distracted me with his nonsense long enough that we are able to get much closer to the entry point we will be using to gain access to the castle. We had decided it would not be smart to use the secret passages we used last time. Damien is cunning and smart; he taught me everything I know. He would have figured out by now that I used them last time and would have them constantly guarded now.

  We opt for a more direct approach this time.

  I can sense the other warriors in place, completely surrounding the castle. Multiple warriors are stationed outside of each and every entry point, including the secret ones. But instead of storming in like Damien did to us, my warriors will not enter. They will wait patiently for the fae that try to escape, killing them on sight. The rest of us boldly make our way up to the front gates of the castle, where we will enter.

  The Unseelie castle is nothing like that of the Seelie castle. It reminds me very much of the fairy tales the humans tell their child and the castles they describe in them. The ones that the evil queen or the wicked witch always lived in. Except this one was ruled by an evil king and now a wicked fae, and the menace and evil that surround it is much, much worse than anything those humans could ever have imagined.

  This castle is an imposing and ominous fortress; a huge structure, much larger than the king ever needed. It is made of brick stones, each appearing dark and aged. There are no windows to allow the light in—not that any of the fae within would want that. A wooden drawbridge lies across the only clear path to the castle doors. The rest of the structure is surrounded by woody bramble bushes covered in razor-sharp thorns, bearing not one piece of fruit like the human world’s bushes would. These bushes are the same as the ones that the king’s throne was made of. They slither and quiver just as those did as well. They are breathing and thriving, waiting for an unsuspecting fae to stumble into them. With only one drop of blood, which the thorns are sure to extract, they would devour the fae just as they did Rho and the king.

  Just the sight of them causes another chill to sweep over me as it brings back the horrible image of those thorns consuming Rho, the blood seeping from her body and running down the brittle yet strong vines, then onto the stark white floor. The fear of repeating that horrible night is stronger than ever now that I am standing at the entrance to the castle.

  That is not the only thing to be feared, however.

  Everything within these cold stone walls should be feared. The fae inside are similar to that of the castle they live within. Dark, dangerous, deceiving and menacing. Nothing is what it appears to be, and everything will get you killed if you do not watch your back. Thankfully, this time when I walk the halls of the Unseelie court, I will not only have my daggers but an army at my back.

  Turning my attention back to the castle entrance I see two Unseelie guards at the base of the drawbridge. The instant their eyes set upon us they are dead. Each has an arrow protruding out of his chest as they now lie where they were just standing. Holly never misses her mark, and her speed cannot be beaten. I do not spare their lifeless bodies a glance as I walk past them onto the wooden bridge.

  Once we reach the other side, there are two more unsuspecting guards standing in front of the castle’s massive doors. They are dead before they even see us, again with arrows piercing their hearts. Now we are standing in front of the only thing blocking our entrance into the Unseelie castle. The doors, like the castle itself, are made of stone. They are over fifteen feet tall and more than three feet thick. No human or fae could move these doors with sheer body strength. On top of that, they are
spelled, like everything else in Faery Land. The magic that was used for the spell is that of the Unseelie, therefore it is not made up of pretty words or faery dust like so many in the Seelie court. No, not this one. This spell calls for the blood of an Unseelie fae to gain entrance. Just this once I am thankful for the Unseelie blood coursing through my veins.

  I reach out to grasp the door handle, but this is not a normal door handle. This one has thorns on it from the bramble bush. Just like the rest surrounding the castle, they are razor sharp and bloodthirsty. They are meant to draw blood immediately when touched. As soon as my skin makes contact with the wooden points, drops of blood begin to drip from my palm onto the doorknob. I pull my hand back quickly knowing that the thorns will continue to suck the blood from my body as long as my hand remains. I quickly wipe the sticky blood on my pants as I glance at Reed. He is looking at my hand anxiously, so I show him my already healing palm. His expression turns to relief as he turns his attention back to the door.

  The door handle soaks all of my blood up greedily, leaving not a single trace of it behind. My anxiety grows as we wait with nothing happening. I know it takes a moment for the magic to work, but it feels like an eternity before it finally does. There is a series of clicking noises, as if the door is being unlocked. I always found this odd, seeing as there are no locks to hold the door in place, only faery magic. I suppose it is a reflection of the king’s odd sense of humor. After a moment the noise ends, and the doors begin to swing open.

  They creak and crack as they move slowly, reinforcing the eerie feel of the castle. We stand back, bracing ourselves for the potential guards we may encounter when the doors are fully open. It is rather anticlimactic. There are no guards. I glance at my friends in confusion and worry. These doors are never left unguarded this way. Gideon whispers a plausible excuse. “Maybe they are preparing for battle. They would need all hands, leaving a skeleton crew to guard the castle. Just as we were forced to do.”

  “Besides, we did pick this time to strike knowing most of the Unseelie would be asleep. I don’t think we should be too worried,” Reed reminds me.