The wolves spread out in a semi-circle, their heads low and their lips pulled back. Those enormous jaws could snap him in half with one bite. Their fur was tinged with a green light, and as he watched, the light grew, radiating from the leaves and the tree trunks all around. The wolves’ heads sprang up, ears perked.
The song in his head changed again as one voice within the many grew prominent. The other voices faded back.
The wolves whined. One by one, they dropped to their haunches then lay down, putting their giant muzzles between their paws.
There was a light, feathery touch on his chin, as though beseeching. He lifted his head and saw her. Crouched on the lowest branch of the deadly tree was the green Faia he had seen seven years ago, the Faia who had protected Adora in the South Forest.
She was small; she might have come up to his waist if she stood beside him. Her hair was pleated green leaves, and diaphanous wings spread out behind her, flexing lightly as she watched him. A brief, sleeveless gossamer dress draped her slender body, and her green eyes glowed. She cocked her head.
“I’m, uh...” Grei tried to say. She turned her tall, pointed ear toward him as though he was whispering. For years, he had wanted to question the Faia. Why did they leave? Why didn’t they help against the slinks? How could they let the Debt of the Blessed stand? Suddenly, all of his questions and demands seemed arrogant.
He descended to his knees and set Selicia in front of him. He bowed his head. “She needs help.”
He heard the fluttering of her wings, and she landed in front of him.
He glanced up. Her skin was pale, tinged with green, glowing beneath the short dress.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, and she cocked her ear toward him.
She opened her mouth as though to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, the air rippled. The song grew louder, weaving around him. The ripple and the song moved through him, and he drew a shuddering breath. In his mind, he heard a single word.
Grei?
Chapter 37
Grei
Grei felt the Faia in him, in his chest, like she was another heart beating. She walked forward, each foot so light it barely bent the grass. He drew a breath as she reached out, took his face in her tiny hands.
The song of the forest thrummed all around, owning him. It was in his chest, his belly, his arms and legs. Within his mind, he heard the Faia speak.
Grei… You are beautiful. To have you listen. To have you hear. Baezin was beloved, but his human children were deaf.
He felt her flutter in his mind, adding to his memories like the Root had done in the Dead Woods. But this time, there was no wrath, only the music of the forest, heightening, taking him elsewhere.
The forest vanished, and he was suddenly floating above Fairmist Falls.
The falls parted, and the blue Faia emerged, sapphire wings cupping the air. A man stood on the platform before her. He was powerfully built, with strong shoulders and a thick neck. His gold-trimmed red fur cape hung heavy in the mists. Upon his graying head was a golden crown, and at his side was the jeweled sword with which Blevins had slain the slink in Fairmist. The Faia floated in front of him at eye level, and her gaze was sad.
“The empire is at its height,” the man said, his voice deep and strong. “The work you began with Emperor Baezin has finally come to fruition through me.”
The Faia remained silent, watching the man and listening, but she did not speak.
The gray-haired man said, “I have brought the empire to this pinnacle, and I would continue to even greater heights.”
The blue Faia cocked her head, as though trying better to hear him.
“I call upon you and your pact with Emperor Baezin. I call upon you to give the empire an endless future.”
The Faia drew away, as though a wave of heat was coming off the man, but she did not leave.
“Make me immortal,” he said, his strong voice dropping lower in its intensity. “And I will guide the empire forever. I will keep her strong.”
The Faia backed away even more.
The man stepped toward her, reaching out his hand. “Your kind live forever,” he said. “Give me your gift. I have made your dreams with Baezin come true. Make me immortal and I will complete your vision in Thiara and beyond.”
The Faia lowered her head, but her gaze never left him.
“You may speak now,” the man said.
She only watched him.
The man’s outreached hand slowly curled into a fist. “I have never asked you for anything,” he said. “Emperor Baezin asked you to build bridges. He asked you to build ridiculous floating houses, even a flying ship for his pleasure. I have asked for nothing, yet I have expanded the empire to three times what Baezin did. Now I ask for this one thing. One thing! Give me eternal life!”
The Faia’s wings flicked three times, carrying her backward toward the waterfall. With a sad bow to her body, she turned away.
“Don’t turn your back on me,” the man demanded, running up the platform of rock. “Speak to me, damn you. Speak to me!” He headed toward the falls. “I am the greatest emperor Thiara has ever known—!”
The opening in the falls closed on the man, cutting off his tirade and crashing over him. The rush of water swept him away, swirling him down the river.
The Faia’s song brought Grei back to the Jhor Forest. The enormous wolves were sitting up now, ears pricked forward as they looked down at him.
He reeled with the information. The Faia had pulled away in sadness because of that man. He had been an emperor after Baezin, but which one?
“Who was he?” Grei asked.
The song rose, and it swept him away once more. The forest faded, and Grei floated over a bald hilltop that he didn’t recognize.
Dark clouds hung low in the sky, and lightning forked between them. The same man from the waterfall stood atop the hill, but he was older. Behind him stood six other men, all dressed in rich clothes. Before them were seven Benascan children, all with the identifiable pale skin and blond hair. Their little wrists were tied together with rope.
“Immortality,” the emperor said. “You will ensure the Thiaran Empire thrives forever. That is why you have been chosen.”
The man drew his sword, pointed it at the tumultuous heavens, and began speaking a strange language. The words were a dark imitation of the Faia’s song.
The emperor sliced a gash in the air. Red light and smoke poured out. He reached for the first boy, but the second leapt at his face, clawing like an animal.
“You lie!” the boy screamed.
The man held the struggling boy at arms length and threw him through the blazing rip. “Liiiiiiiie!”
The old men seemed deaf to the terror of their victims. The next richly dressed man stepped up, took the next little boy and hurled him through the rip…
The image swirled away, bringing Grei back to the forest, gasping.
“They were just children,” he said to the Faia, who watched him with those huge, liquid green eyes.
He used new lives. Destroyed them so that he might live longer.
The song heightened again, and the forest faded a third time. Green leaves were replaced by a star-filled sky. Grei returned to the same hill, but now it was deserted. The trees surrounding the hilltop were different. Years had passed.
A shaft of light shot out of the air like a smoky red spear in the exact place where the emperor had tossed the children.
The hole turned into a gash, and clawed fingers poked out, wrenched it open. Smoke and fire burst forth, and a small figure tumbled onto the ground in a ball, its skin glowing red. It twitched painfully, then uncurled and stood up.
Grei gasped. It was the first little boy the emperor had thrown into the rip, the one who had fought and screamed. As he cooled, his red skin became pale. His flaming hair became blond curls. He turned, went back to the rip and shoved his hand inside. With a grimace he pulled, and another child tumbled through. He reached in again, and pulled thro
ugh a third. He reached for another, but the rip suddenly snapped shut. The boy gasped, barely withdrawing his arm before the line vanished. He howled his rage at the sky...
The vision faded. The old, green trees of the Faia’s forest returned. Grei gasped and fell back. He looked up at her.
“Those were the slinks,” he gasped. “That’s where they came from.”
He opened a rift. He has opened others.
“What can I do?” he said. “Is Adora’s prophecy the way? Do I follow Adora?”
She smiled suddenly, like he had struck a spark with his last word.
Love, she said, and she came to him, knelt in front of him. It is the human gift. She. You.
She took hold of his bandaged arm and drew it out from where he cradled it against his chest. She unwrapped the dirty, blood-smeared bandages and let them fall, revealing the charred, numb forearm beneath.
She whispered, and the burning circle just below his elbow flared. Blackened skin grew over exposed bone, coating it like dripping candle wax, and he gasped as sensation returned.
He flexed skeletal fingers, and they moved! The bones of his forearm were covered with smooth skin the color of charcoal, and he could feel again. It felt warm, as though he was holding it close to a stove.
Love. The Faia said.
The Faia crouched next to Selicia. Green glowed within the Ringblade’s chest. The broken shaft of the arrow in her side pushed up, out of her flesh and fell to the forest floor. The blood all over her body glistened and began to move, gathered together in little lines. Dirt and debris crawled out of the rivulets like insects, sliding away until her blood flowed cleanly up her legs, across her belly and chest, back toward the sword gash and arrow hole. The blood seeped back into her body, and the horrible wounds closed.
Selicia drew a long breath and opened her eyes. She gazed at the Faia, stunned.
The Faia looked at her for a long moment, then turned away. She gave Grei a sad glance, her little brow furrowed.
Voices flew around him, and the trees glowed brighter. The giant wolves turned their snouts upward and howled. With a flick of her wings, the Faia leapt into the air and alighted on a branch above him.
“Wait!” he said. “Don’t go.”
Behind him, trunks and limbs bent away from each other, creating a glowing green path straight through the forest.
“But I have so many questions,” he said.
She gave one last smile, then turned and leapt high above the tree, disappearing from view.
“Please!”
The giant wolves rose and moved forward, creating a wall between him and the dark forest. This audience was over.
“Thank you,” he said softly. He turned and started down the illuminated path with Selicia behind him.
Chapter 38
Grei
Grei and Selicia followed the path all the way to the forest’s end. The wolves paced them, staying close behind. The forest opened onto a breathtaking vista. Below was the imperial city of Thiara, a thousand lights in the night. Its seven towers rose toward the moon, white marble glowing. A latticework of bridges sparkled high among the towers, and a dusky red wall surrounded it all. To his right, mossy boulders tumbled down to the moonlit ocean, and the dark expanse stretched as far as his imagination could go. The breeze that blew up the slope was warm and salty with the scent of the sea.
He glanced back toward the Jhor. The path through the forest was closing, and the giant wolves slowly became shadows between the trees. In moments, only their glowing eyes could be seen, and then those vanished as well.
The trees now looked like the normal edge of a forest. All traces of the path had vanished.
He glanced down at skin-covered bone of his right arm, touched it with his good hand. He “felt” it move, how to make it do his bidding, but it was not like a real hand. It was though he had been given control of something not fully his own, a living artifact of the Faia like the Lateral Houses.
He turned to Selicia. She was smeared with dirt, but all of the blood on her arms, legs and torso was gone.
“You look better,” he said.
“That is the second time you have saved my life,” she said.
“The Faia brought you back.”
She watched him silently for a moment, then walked forward and embraced him. He froze, stunned, then he slowly returned the hug, trying to keep his shock in check. Her muscled body molded to his, warm and vibrant. He would have thought a hug from Selicia would be bony, but it felt good. He suddenly realized how frightened he had been.
“We did well, didn’t we?” he whispered, swallowing down his sudden emotion, not sure if she was giving him comfort or seeking it. He had never seen her evince more than a tight smile, but perhaps being brought back from the dead was enough to make her sentimental.
“I am sorry,” she said.
He hissed as she scratched his neck. He drew back from her, reaching up to touch the tiny wound with his hand. A spot of blood came away. On her finger glinted a metal sheath, pointed at the end.
“What are you...?” His legs wobbled and his head felt light. He staggered back, holding up a hand to ward her off, but his eyes had gone funny. There were two of her. Then three.
The three Selicias watched him as he dropped to his knees and fell backward. His arms and legs went limp. He couldn’t feel anything. He shouted, but only a gargle came out. She had poisoned him!
He looked up at the three images of her, slowly revolving around him.
“I hope you will understand someday, Grei,” she said. “You are simply too powerful to be free. The emperor needs you. With you, we could win against the slinks.”
“You...” he managed to say. “Swore...”
“It was what you needed to hear.” She took a deep breath and watched him with that expressionless face, then murmured, “A Ringblade moves, but is not seen.” As though that explained her betrayal. As though that could explain that she was a blackened husk with no soul!
He suddenly realized why the Faia had retreated. She had seen into Selicia’s heart, had known this would happen. It was the same reason the Faia backed away from humans a hundred years ago. We backstab. We betray. We dominate and subjugate. The Faia wanted no part of this.
He screamed at her, but the noise came out as another gargle.
“I know you are frustrated,” she said. “But you are serving your empire best this way. You don’t see it now, but there are other things happening here, and only the emperor has all the pieces.” She fingered the ring on her left hand. It had a large black stone, and she turned it. The stone came free and floated up.
“Above the Crown,” she whispered to it. “Western edge of the Jhor. Immediately.” The stone hovered for one more moment, then sped away, flying straight for the wall of the imperial city.
She let out a long breath and glanced down at him. “It is ironic,” she said. “Using Faia magic to bring you in. I think you are a good man, Grei. But being good isn’t enough. Too much is at stake.”
He growled, trying desperately to move his body, but it was as though he only had a head. He tried to focus on her, tried to bring his magic to bear, but the whispers were gone, even the loud song of the Jhor.
“I urge you to accept your fate,” she said. “You and the emperor could fly together, or he could cage you. The choice will be up to you.”
She stooped, hooked her hands under his armpits, and dragged him to a nearby outcropping of white boulders. She set him down in the dark, blocked from view on two sides by the rock, on a third side by the forest. Only a thin view of the moonlit Crown was visible from her hiding place, and Selicia sat patiently, watching in that direction, waiting for someone.
He stewed in his thoughts, trying to focus his attention enough to use his magic, but whatever poison Selicia had used was effective in taking away his power.
Eventually, he just stared at her, waiting for the effects to wear off. After what seemed like an hour of frustrating torture,
Selicia suddenly stood up.
“Well done, Liana,” she said. “Your approach was silent, but you allowed moonlight to catch you there.” She pointed.
Grei strained his eyes to see who Selicia was addressing.
Three images of the same woman, dressed in the tight black Ringblade clothing, appeared in Grei’s field of vision. She was very tall, with strong shoulders. She had a straight, prominent nose, a wide mouth, and large eyes, the whites stark against her black skin. Her curly black hair was short, shaved above the ears.
“My apologies, Ringmother,” the new woman said.
“You came quickly. That was needed most,” Selicia replied. She turned to face Grei, then said, “You may come out, Jylla.”
Another woman, her three images revolving slowly, hopped down from the tall boulder behind Grei. She was short and thickly muscled. Her braid was light brown, contrasting against her black clothing. She had a round face, and her black eyes glimmered in the dark.
“Ringmother,” she intoned reverently, and all three of her bowed.
The Ringblades stepped back to flank Selicia and look at Grei.
“We will carry him back to the Sanctum,” Selicia said. “The emperor—”
Selicia spun suddenly, hearing something Grei could not.
The Ringblade named Liana suddenly gasped and twisted as her tall body turned to stone. Selicia dropped and rolled away. In a blur, Jylla drew her Ringblade, looking for the attacker. She had it cocked back to fly when she was suddenly backlit by a yellow light. She also became stone.
Grei strained his eyes to the side. An image of three revolving figures came forward, cloaked and hooded like someone from Fairmist. The figures paused, bowing their heads as though powerfully tired, but they quickly straightened, keeping the steel rod trained on Selicia. The hooded figure was small and slight of build.
Selicia looked as calm as ever. She waited.
“You’re not that fast,” the figure said, and Grei drew a shocked breath. He knew that voice!
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