I stand. “I’ll be back.”
Jordan’s voice wavers. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I shake my head, leaning down to offer her a small, but genuine, smile. “Something tells me it was going to end this way, one way or another.”
A tear escapes her eye, rolling down her cheek until it plops on the ground. I can see how much she regrets that I’m in this position. I would feel just as bad if the situation was reversed.
“Promise me that you’ll be careful.”
I straighten and call back the flames. “As long as you promise to hold on until I come back with help.”
She cracks a grin. “Deal.”
I mirror her expression and repeat, “Deal.”
29
Water drips from stalactites above me, plopping onto stone. The sound echos through the cavern’s depths. It might as well be booming thunder. My heightened senses have me gasping and jumping at every single sound.
My hand trembles as it glides along the walls, helping me navigate the darkness. Even with my fire, the cavern is dim. My eyes have adjusted enough to let me see what’s directly in front of me, but beyond three feet, it’s a mystery. A terrifying mystery.
At least I have a knife in one hand, flames in the other. My knuckles are scraped and bloody from scratching the rocky walls, but I don’t dare put away my only weapon.
The temperature has been dropping the farther I venture away from Jordan and the blocked entrance. I shiver, but I can’t hug myself for warmth. I need my arms for light, to keep me from running into sharp rocks or boulders.
My breath billows into clouds as I exhale. I wish I knew what waited for me, or at least how long it would take to get to where the diadem is located.
I recall Brittany’s words as she described her fog-induced vision. She’d been wrong about the four of us entering the cavern together, so I shouldn’t put too much stock in her mention of monsters lining the walls. Still, I fight the urge to bring my arms to my body, loathing the idea of potentially touching a monster.
Fear tries to slow my steps, my subconscious is unwilling to face the inevitable last obstacle anytime soon. But the thought of Jordan bleeding out as she waits for me to bring help pushes me forward.
I trip and fall on my knees. My light sputters out.
“Ah!” My cry reverberates down the cavern. Hissing, I turn to sit on my bottom. I bring my knee up and squint, trying to see the damage. My pants are torn. It’s about time. With all they’ve been through, I’m surprised it’s taken this long. The skin covering the bone is rubbed raw and stings when my cool breath hits it. Blood seeps out of the wound, but it’s not gushing. It will scab over soon. I’ll survive.
I hiss as I stand, the tender skin doesn’t like to be pulled with movement.
I hobble a few steps. The pain fades into the background as I move. I straighten my spine and reach out to get my bearings by touching the wall. I immediately pull my fingers back when I hear an aggravated growl.
I backpedal on instinct. My back collides with the wall. My breath comes in short, ragged spurts.
Something shifts in the dark. The telltale sound of steps reaches my ears. The creature draws closer.
This is it.
This is how I die.
Jordan won’t know what happened to me. She will be waiting for me to return, but help will never come. She will die, all because I’m a clumsy idiot who announced her presence by yelling after she fell.
I press myself closer to the wall, wishing I could morph into its strong surface. I consider closing my eyes while I await my fateful end, but I quickly dismiss the idea. I’m not the bravest woman in the world, but I’m not a complete coward. I will face what is to come with a brave face, mourning the death sentence it signs for the friend waiting for me. With that thought, I bring fire to my hands. I realize the flames are easier to conjure when my emotions are heightened.
The creature appears within my dulled eyesight. I choke back a scream as I take in its face. Thick cheekbones and a bulging forehead give the monster a Neanderthal appearance. Dry cracked skin gives the illusion of gray scales. And it’s huge. I doubt my fire will be enough to take this monster down. Burning it will do nothing but make it angry and more likely to kill me.
The monster leans closer, and its rancid breath chokes me. Again, I try to press closer to the wall, but every inch of my body is already flush with the uncomfortable surface.
The creature stops less than two feet away. It watches me with reptilian-like eyes. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to not scream. My eyes are wide as I see it kneel down, and I almost lose my mind when it leans towards my knee and inhales the scent of my wound.
My stomach rolls, and my legs wobble, threatening to give out beneath me. It wasn’t my scream which attracted the creature. It had been my blood.
I give up and close my eyes. Call me a coward, but I can’t look at the monster as it salivates over the smell of my blood. I wonder how many Fae are about to watch my death, and I wonder how many of them are eager to see it. Looks like the queen will need to organize the eighth contest.
The creature shifts. I think it’s back on its feet, but I won’t open my eyes to look.
“Thissss waaay.”
My eyes fly open. Did it just speak?
Reptilian eyes are locked onto mine; cognizance is in its gaze.
I watch its mouth move and it repeats, “Thissss waaay.” It scowls, obviously uncomfortable. Speaking must not be normal for the creature.
We continue to stare at one another, and I realize it waits for some acknowledgement from me. It’s not going to tear me limb from limb.
Swallowing back my fear, I nod and manage to mutter, “O-okay.”
The creature turns around and begins lumbering down the path I’d been walking. Not seeing any other choice, I follow.
With the sounds of its heavy steps to guide me, I walk much faster.
Anticipation builds. The cavern can only be so big. We have to reach the diadem soon.
The creature stops walking. “Ffffffire.”
I almost run into its broad back. “Sorry?”
“Fffire.”
I have no idea what he means.
The creature turns around and points at my hands. “F-fire.”
I look at my palms and realize it’s asking me to use my powers. I bite my lip. There’s no question my journey through the cavern is being watched. What’s the harm in heeding the monster’s request?
I take a deep breath. I picture Jordan, lying injured, and tell myself I’m doing this to save her. She’s been a true friend since the day we met, and she deserves for me to try everything I can to help her. Flames fly up into the air, magnified by my extreme emotion. They strike the cavern ceiling, illuminating the space around us.
I smother my gasp when the light reveals more of the creature’s frightening features.
“Gooooood.” It draws out, nodding its head in obvious approval. “Keep ooooon.”
“You want me to keep the fire on?” I ask for clarification.
It nods, then waves a hand for me to follow as it continues walking through the cavern.
I do as it asks and keep the fire in my palms, but I tamper down its size so as to not accidentally burn my face. I can’t believe I’m actually communicating with one of the creatures who lives in the Cursed Mountains. I’d believed the monsters were driven by animalistic instinct. I hadn’t thought them capable of coherent thought.
The realization makes me wonder if any of the other creatures we’d encountered had also possessed the ability to think.
That would make their violent attacks so much worse.
Our journey is unhindered. No additional creatures detach from the cavern walls and join our party of two. Though, I swear I can feel eyes on me, watching my every move… assessing my actions… staring at my fire.
“Do you have a name?” I ask, partly out of curiosity and partly out of a desire to distract myself from my own
thoughts. If it can speak, I bet it has a name.
Still, I’m surprised when the creature responds, “Vagar.” It puts heavy emphasis on the “r”, almost making the word sound like a growl.
I deduce the creature is male. His voice is deep, but that’s not the only clue. The fire in my hands allows me to see more of Vagar’s body, and a pair of loose trousers covers his lower half, while his torso is bare. His pecs are not of the feminine variety.
“Vagar,” I repeat, stepping over a puddle of water that my escort splashed in. “I’m Sera.”
“Hmph.” Vagar makes the sound, shooting me a curious glance over his shoulder. I get the feeling there is more he wants to say, but he’s either unwilling or unable to put it to words. That’s fine by me. I’m not interested in making any more friends. I only want to save the one waiting for me.
Silence falls.
I catch sight of several pairs of glowing eyes, staring from a distance. I don’t know why they don’t come any closer, but I pick up my pace and make sure I’m close to Vagar, in case it’s his formidable presence which keeps them at bay.
At last, the path opens up to a large, open space. Stalagmites rise from the floor, almost touching the stalactites descending from the high ceiling.
Vagar walks forward. It is then I see a marble slab positioned directly in the center of the cavern. A single, velvet pillow sits atop the slab. The diadem rests on the cushioned surface.
My eyes drink in the notorious item. The silver gleams, obviously clean. No dust has settled on its surface despite the fact it’s sat there, untouched, for who knows how many years.
I inch closer. The object doesn’t look special. There are no expensive gems or ornate carvings adorning the diadem. It’s plain, yet elegant. Bland, yet delicate. I can’t really explain it.
I shake my head. Who cares what the diadem looks like, or the special powers it supposedly has. It’s the key to saving Jordan and all other surviving contestants.
I take another step. Vagar mimics my movement, walking with me, step for step, as I draw closer to the marble slab.
I arrive beside the diadem. I lift my arm and reach forward. I’m stunned when, out of the corner of my eye, I see Vagar bend his massive torso until it is parallel with the ground. “Myyy queeeen.”
My hand stills, hovering over the diadem. I turn at stare at him incredulously “What did you just call me?”
Vagar doesn’t respond. Thick brow lifts, and his eyes look pointedly at the velvet pillow, and the priceless artifact upon it.
I understand the silent command.
Think of Jordan, I tell myself, shaking away my questions about Vager’s odd comment. I’m doing this for her. I can find a way out of marrying the prince later. Right now, my friend, and the other contestants still alive, are all that matters.
So, with a fortifying breath, I lower my fingers and grasp the diadem.
Then, the cavern fades to black and a strong wind surrounds me.
30
A swirling vortex rips around me, flinging my hair into my face. I try to swipe it away, but my arms struggle against the force of the unexpected wind. In my fingers, the diadem’s cool metal grounds me, letting me know I’m not imagining what’s happening.
It is hard to catch my breath; the air is so violent and chaotic. I lean forward, bracing myself against the strength of the invisible force, when all of the sudden, it completely disappears.
I open my eyes, not realizing I’ve had them closed, and take in my surroundings.
Gone are the gray, cold walls of the cavern. I’m standing in someone’s personal office. Burgundy paint adorns the walls, and bookshelf lines the wall to my right, full of leather-bound volumes, arranged neatly. But it’s the mahogany desk that acts as the focal point of the room. It is twice the length of a normal desk. Ornate carvings adorn the desk’s legs and the front piece of wood. The curves and lines join together in the center, creating a mass of elegant vines and blooming flowers. I suspect the desk had been custom made. I’ve never seen anything like it in a furniture store.
A high-backed, green upholstered chair sits behind the desk. I gasp when I see a beautiful woman sitting there. Her hair is the color of straw, only bright instead of dull. Luminous green eyes assess me from across the room. I swallow, not sure what to do. This has all the signs of another hallucination, but unlike my last hallucination, I feel connected to my mind and body. My fingers flex, once again relying on the diadem to ground me. Only… the diadem is gone.
I lift my hands in front of my face and confirm they are empty. Frantically, I scour the ground below me, forgetting all about the strange woman behind the desk. If I lose the diadem, I’m doomed. But I’m not the only one. Every surviving contestant’s survival is in my hands. I can’t let them down. I need to find that blasted tiara.
“Are you looking for this?” A tinkling, musical voice asks. I pull my eyes from the floor and meet the stranger’s amused gaze. She gestures toward the top of her head, and I gasp.
The diadem sits on top of her head!
I look back at my empty, non-flaming hands, stunned. I return my attention to her with a frown. “How did you get that?”
“Magic, of course.” The stranger smiles. The expression seems genuine, but I’m hesitant to trust anything anymore. I watch the woman tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing its pointed end.
“You’re Fae.”
“Indeed, I am.” She leans back in the chair and assesses me with inquisitive eyes. “You are the one who picked up the diadem?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” She leans forward, resting her elbows covered in sheer sleeves on the desk’s surface. “Why did you seek my diadem?”
Her diadem?
“I-I didn’t know it was yours,” I answer honestly. Have I managed to piss off a Fae? One powerful enough to slip the diadem out of my grasp without me even knowing.
Is this Queen Lani?
“Indeed?” A perfectly sculptured brow arches. I can tell she doesn’t believe me. For some unknown reason, that bothers me.
“I promise. I was sent to retrieve the diadem by Queen Aria. I had no idea it belonged to anyone. I wouldn’t have taken it otherwise.” The last sentence flows past my lips with no planning. It’s the truth. I would never steal someone’s property knowingly. I thought the ancient queen to whom it belonged died a long time ago.
The Fae continues to watch me. Her expression is carefully neutral. “The Seelie queen sent you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“And you don’t know anything about this piece.” She gestures to her head. “You didn’t know it belonged to me?”
“No, ma’am. I didn’t.” I hold my breath, waiting for her response. I do not expect her to tilt her head back and laugh raucously.
I fidget, uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do.
She continues to laugh. Tears escape her eyes, and she wipes them away with an amused smile. At last, she speaks to me, “I believe you.”
My lips part, surprised. “You do?”
“Yes.” She stands and rounds the desk, moving to stand in front of me. Beautiful green eyes assess me, again, and her broad smile turns into a soft, contemplative one. “I cannot believe Queen Aria could make such an error.”
I tense. “I-I’m sorry?”
Her smile remains in place. “The unlawful queen has been after my diadem for decades. She’s sent countless humans to retrieve it, but the forest and mountains are my domain. They are determined to protect their mistress from anyone who is unworthy. Humans never stood a chance of completing the task.”
My stomach twists with painful knots. “Queen Aria knew she was sending us to our deaths?”
Her smile drops, and I swear the light in the room dims and the temperature drops ten degrees. “Of course, she did,” she answers, confirming my worst fears about Queen Aria’s motives. I’d been holding onto the hope that there was at least some chance of survival for us. What kind of monster is the
queen, knowingly forcing us to undertake a task where we are certain to die?
The stranger continues, “And she would do it again and again. Queen Aria is obsessed with getting my diadem into her deceitful claws. Humans are her best shot, even if the chances are impossible. She’d never risk sending a Fae who would be able to harness the power contained within the diadem. At least,” her smile returns, and there’s a hint of mischief in her expression, “She’d never send a Fae on purpose.”
The stranger stares at me. My forehead furrows, and I replay her words in my head.
Then, it dawns on me.
My eyes widen, and my lungs constrict in my chest. It’s hard to get the next words out. “Are… are you saying I’m… Fae?”
She sniffs the air, turning her head to the side. “Half-Fae, by the smell of you.”
I don’t even want to know how she can smell anything through the layers of mud and sweat.
I’ve accepted I’m not human. But a Fae?
No. It can’t be. Fae don’t breed outside of their species. Everyone knows that.
As if reading my mind, she says, “Yes, Serafina Roberts, you are half-Fae, half-human. Your mother was once a human slave in our realm. That is how she met your father.”
One word stands out more than the others. And it’s not slave. “Was?”
“Your mother has been released from her fate as a slave among our kind for many years now,” she tells me. Without giving me a chance to ask another question, she says, “I am surprised no one realized the truth of your heritage before sending you to retrieve my diadem. Had she known, the queen would have slit your throat. You, my dear, have ruined all of her well-laid plans.”
My heart is racing, and my thoughts are flying from one question to the next. I think of Camden and Frederick. They both know I’m different. Do they know I’m Fae?
“I don’t want to ruin Queen Aria’s plans. I just want to go home.”
“Oh, Serafina,” she speaks softly. Like she’s known me for more than five minutes. “You can never go home. Your fate is here, in the Fae Realm. The sooner you accept this, the easier it will be.”
Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 156