by S. L. Wilson
It felt like she was being submerged in very deep water, that strange sensation when your ears fill and everything sounds muffled and far away. The wormhole between realms threatened to tear Redka from her arms as it whipped past them. Her chest felt tight and she struggled for air.
Redka’s face was colourless and he felt cold in her grasp. She hung on to him as they spun through the silver stream of magic, holding his body close to her, her chest pressing against the wound in his back and her hand held tightly over the wound in his chest, blood seeping through her fingers as she spoke gently into his ear.
‘Stay with me, Redka, you are nearly home. Stay with me.’
She kissed his hair and his cheek repeatedly. ‘Don’t leave me, Redka,’ she sobbed, ‘I love you.’
Like a cork erupting from a champagne bottle they burst out onto a grassy clearing. She shook her head, trying to clear the nauseous sensation that overwhelmed her from travelling through the portal. She was aware of people running towards them as she screamed.
CONNOR PULLED her away from Redka, but she wriggled out of his grasp, kicking and shouting to be set free. Alia and her mother bent over Redka’s body, stripping away his clothing to get a better look at his wounds as Maggie pulled dressings and herbs from a cloth sack.
Amber still couldn’t hear clearly; her head was fuzzy and her vision swam as she tried to get loose from Connor’s vice-like grip.
Tom’s face filled her view; he was talking, shouting at her, yet she couldn’t make it out. She studied his lips, trying to understand the words, but everything was clouded and she resumed her struggles until Tom slapped her hard across the face.
There was a loud pop in her ears and the world came rushing forward. She could hear the urgency in her mother’s voice and the soft encouragement from Alia. There was a running stream somewhere to her left, and she could make out Connor’s laboured breathing in her ear.
She stopped struggling, gaping at Tom whose face was flushed under the dirt and grime coating his skin.
‘Sorry, cutie, but you were getting kinda hysterical.’
She sagged in Connor’s arms and he lowered her to the floor, cradling her in his arms. Tom knelt beside them.
‘Where are you hurt, Amber?’
‘N...not hurt, I’m fine.’
‘You’re covered in blood, and you have a gash by your eye, are you sure you aren’t hurt?’
‘I hit my head, but the blood…it’s not mine, its Redka’s,’ She looked down at her blood-soaked clothing. ‘Loso caught up with us and stabbed him before we could make it to the circle.’
The boys stared at her in disbelief. ‘How the hell did you get out of there?’
Amber pictured the fire and brimstone she created with her own bare hands, the winds and the sky raining down upon them as she fought against Loso and her own magic, and decided not to tell them the whole story. Not yet.
‘The Dragovax turned up and Loso fought with them, I used that cover to escape but not before I saw him ripped apart.’
‘Loso’s dead?’
‘Yes, he’s dead,’ she said, her voice flat, and then remembering the pendant she took from him, she fished it out of her pocket and held it in the palm of her hand.
‘I managed to take this prior to the demons’ attack.’
They looked at the gateway key in her hand; it was a tarnished bronze circular object, covered in tiny symbols which looked like runes. There were two sides fitted together with a clasp on the top and a bronze rod with four ornate teeth on the end.
‘So the key to every otherworldly realm looks like…a pocket watch?’
Amber shrugged her shoulders. There was no denying that the object was very fifteenth century, but when she opened the clasp there was no clock face. The inside was smooth and the only inscription was two interlocking ovals with a single lapis lazuli crystal at the centre.
‘How does it work?’ Tom asked as he turned it over to look at the underneath.
‘I have no idea.’
Alia called out for Amber who stuffed the object back in her pocket and scrambling to her feet rushed to Redka’s side.
‘He is very weak but alive. Thank you, Amber, you saved his life.’
Amber stroked her hand across his forehead and hair, and his eyelids fluttered as if he were dreaming.
‘Is he conscious?’ she asked, looking up into her mother’s eyes.
‘No, I made a tonic to put him into a comatose state so we could move him without causing him distress. His fae blood will begin to heal his wound as we make our way to the castle, but he will be unconscious for a while.’
Amber nodded and stroked Redka’s forehead lightly with her fingertips.
‘You did a brave thing, Amber, and I am so proud of you.’ Her mother pulled her close and she melted into her arms. Myanna hugged her, rocking her back and forth and smoothing down her hair and Amber never wanted to venture from her protective embrace again.
THEY TOOK it in turns to carry Redka on a makeshift stretcher. The terrain was tricky as the west woods were so tightly-packed with trees of every variety imaginable. Great oaks, slim beeches and towering pines stood shoulder to shoulder and Amber could only see the blue sky fleetingly between the leaves.
They manoeuvred the stretcher over a fallen tree stump and came to a stop in a small clearing.
‘We should rest here,’ Alia said, laying her cloth sack on the floor. ‘There is a woodland village just beyond the treeline, I know the fae lord and he will be happy to assist us.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ Connor broke away from the group to stand by Alia, ‘If Redka can’t come with you, then I would be honoured to be his stand-in until he recovers.’
‘Thank you, Connor.’
She gave instructions to Myanna and Maggie to set up camp and busy themselves with building a fire and fetching water, before moving over to where Amber was sitting holding Redka’s hand.
‘I know that my son is in safe hands with you, Amber.’ She knelt down and kissed him on the forehead then disappeared into the dense forest with Connor following close behind.
Tom flopped down on the mossy floor next to her and bit into an apple. ‘So, cutie, how long are you planning on staying in faerie land?’ he asked between chews.
‘What do you mean?’ She knew exactly what he meant. They hadn’t been best friends forever for her not to understand the silent question hidden in his words.
He gave her one of his trademark looks and she caved.
‘I don’t know, Tom, I can’t leave until I know Redka is okay or is at least awake. But I feel awful that I’m leaving my dad vulnerable at home with Patricia.’
‘Didn’t Connor say that his aunt and the coven were helping to find your dad? Maybe they have him wrapped in a blanket on that green sofa in the magic shop sipping herbal tea.’
She laughed. ‘I really can’t picture my dad and India sipping tea together wrapped in blankets, and he loathes all that hocus pocus.’
‘I seem to remember a day when you used to feel the same.’
She looked up at him. His bright blue eyes had regained some of their sparkle and although he was still painfully thin he looked more like his old self.
‘How did we get here, Tom?’
‘Well…’ he paused for dramatic effect, ‘I was kidnapped by an evil Guardian, you foolishly followed, dragging the hot guy from the magic shop along for the ride and picking up another equally hot guy en route before storming a fortress, finding your mother and pulling off a daring rescue…have I missed anything out?’
She snorted and playfully punched him on the arm. ‘I know how we got here.’ She motioned at the forest and Redka’s sleeping form. ‘I mean how did we end up believing in magic and faeries and other realms? I work in a coffee shop on the high street, you play on your Xbox, twenty-four-seven. Aren’t we in way over our heads here?’
‘I get it, you’re scared, so am I, but don’t you feel that?’ He patted his hand over his heart.
/> ‘What?’
‘I really thought I was going to die in that fortress, and as I sat rotting in the cell waiting to be turned into one of those red-eyed freaks, I realised that I’ve wasted my life.’
‘You’re sixteen, Tom, not forty.’
‘I know, I know, but what have I done so far? I barely scraped a decent grade at school, the only thing I enjoy is gaming, which is unfortunately not on the curriculum for A Level study, so I’ve chosen subjects I loathe, and I moan about it to you because my parents never bother to stop and listen to me.’
‘So what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying that I feel like I belong here in this freaky world with a band of faeries and my oracle best friend. I feel alive for the first time ever.’
‘We have to go home sometime, Tom.’
‘Do we?’
She looked into his eyes and realised he wasn’t joking. If Tom didn’t want to leave and Myanna was still torn between leaving her fae family and reuniting her human family, then what was stopping her from staying here in Avaveil?
She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘I do feel it…here.’ She patted her own chest. ‘But my dad needs me and as soon as we’ve made sure Redka has recovered then we will be going back to Hills Heath – together.’
He rolled his eyes and tossed the apple core into the woods.
‘Maybe you could write your own gaming program and battle the Guardians online?’ she laughed. ‘It sounds like a bestselling game to me, I’m sure Rockstar would snap it up.’
He smiled at her but it didn’t reach his eyes. She understood more than he could ever know; she felt it deep inside her. This place was home, not Avaveil itself but the people she was with. Her mother, Connor and even sweet Maggie all held a piece of her heart, but the largest piece belonged to Redka and as she watched his chest rise and fall gently in his deep slumber she worried that she wouldn’t be able to break away when she needed to.
THE PATH into the woodland village was clear as Connor and Alia approached. The small houses that nestled between the trees were quiet, looking unloved and deserted, not what Connor had been expecting.
‘This is odd.’ Alia shook her head. ‘This village is a thriving centre, it lies midway between the castle and the market town of Delis, it should be busy with fae going about their work.’
Connor drew his sword as they reached the centre of the village; a tall pine tree dominated the clearing, its trunk as wide as a house. A wooden staircase snaked around the trunk of the tree leading to a high tree house hidden amongst the needles.
Alia began to walk up the stairs, her long skirts brushing each step as she went. Connor trailed behind her with his sword still gripped tightly in his hand. They had barely made it up a handful of steps when a voice stopped them.
‘Who goes there?’
The voice called down to them from high above. Connor saw a glint of silver and moved to position himself as a shield for the queen.
‘Your Queen Alia,’ he called out. ‘Show yourselves.’
There was movement all around as the fae emerged from their homes and swung from the trees to surround the staircase.
‘You lie, our queen is lost to us.’
‘She was lost but I rescued her from the demon realm, Phelan.’
There were hushed murmurs all around followed by the sounds of many feet descending the staircase. Connor readied himself for a fight but Alia laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Do not fear, Connor, they will know it is me.’
She was right. As soon as the fae lord came into sight he wheezed loudly and dropped to his knees, bowing his head.
‘My dear lord, please do not bow to me, we merely seek your assistance.’
They walked down the stairs until they reached the dirt floor of the village’s centre. The fae were wary to approach and Connor caught the fear in their eyes as they stood in small groups.
THE FAE lord was a stout man with a ruddy complexion. He rushed to Alia’s side and grasped her hands between his own.
‘It’s a miracle, a sign from the woodland spirits. They have returned you to us in our darkest hour.’
The queen surveyed the village: the fae huddled together in family groups, mothers clinging to their children, husbands clinging to their wives, the older members of the community sheltering behind the young. There was no evidence of the vitality, the power and the glow of the fae in these people.
‘What has happened here?’
The lord bowed his head once more, and feelings of sadness and grief washed over his aura in waves. Connor could feel the man’s energies, could sense the desolation in his heart.
‘My dear queen, Avaveil is a very different place since you last ruled on the throne. I think it may be best to get under cover before we tell you what has become of your realm.’
He began to walk up the spiral staircase and motioned for Alia and Connor to join him. They walked in silence as the fae from the village vanished quickly into their hiding places.
Connor felt a sense of dread coat his skin as he ascended the stairs to the lord’s tree house.
THE SPICED tea warmed them as they sat around the open fire in the circular room. The lord had sent his guards to the outskirts of the village to post a lookout.
‘Why do you need to guard the village?’ Connor asked as he sipped at his tea.
‘If Princess Nikita suspects that you are here, she will burn my village to the ground and leave no survivors.’
‘Who is Nikita?’
Alia got up and walked to stand in front of the fire. She stared into the flames as she answered Connor’s question. ‘Nikita is my sister.’
‘Why would she burn the village? Surely she’ll be pleased to see that you are safe and back to take over the realm?’
The lord shook his head. ‘Princess Nikita is not like our queen, she doesn’t have a compassionate bone in her body. The realm was overjoyed when we learned that our queen was with child, we hoped for a future king, one who would ensure that Nikita never made it to the throne. But on that fateful night our beloved queen was taken from the castle. The guards searched the lands for months, and the people never gave up hope, but Princess Nikita stepped up to rule in Queen Alia’s stead and ravaged the lands.’
Connor watched as Alia’s shoulders shook. She braced her hands against the hearth of the fire and let out a wracking sob.
‘My queen, I am so sorry to be the one to break this news to you.’ The lord bowed his head again and offered her more tea.
‘If Alia is the rightful queen, then all we have to do is walk into the castle and tell her sister that her time is up.’
‘Getting into the castle is no longer possible,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Princess Nikita has destroyed the surrounding towns and villages, the castle stands like a beacon of terror in the middle of our realm. She trades with orcs and necromancers, selling our resources to fund her materialistic whims. She sells our people as slaves to the Minotaurs from the desert plains and consorts with dark magic practitioners.’
Connor looked across at Alia, his jaw rigid as he saw the pain carved on her face.
‘We have just escaped one evil realm, and it appears that I have brought you into another.’ Her tears tumbled down her face as she gazed into Connor’s eyes.
‘The throne of Avaveil is yours by right and when you have no passion left to rule you can hand over to Redka, that’s your heritage. I’m half fae so your path is linked to mine. Myanna, Amber and even Tom have followed you here because we believe in you.’
The lord looked at Connor with a quizzical expression ‘Who are these people you talk of?’
Connor addressed the lord. ‘Myanna is a witch who nursed your queen in Phelan and saved her life, Amber and Tom are from the human realm and…well, that’s another story, but Redka, well he is Alia’s son, born in Phelan but heir to Avaveil’s throne and as I’m here with time on my hands, then I for one intend to help your queen and her band of merry men re
claim her throne.’
The squat little lord clapped his hands and beamed at Connor. ‘I haven’t heard such passion and fire for so long. Nikita told us that both our queen and her child were lost to us.’ He bowed to Alia. ‘My queen, do you really think that your band of warriors can help us return Avaveil to its former glory?’
‘My son is wounded, my lord, and we are all weak. If you can offer us shelter and assistance then, yes, I believe it may be time to reclaim my throne.’
‘We would be honoured to assist you, my queen. You will reside here in my tree house, and the villagers will fetch you everything you need.’
‘So be it. We will need men to carry my son’s stretcher and food, bedding and herbs. We are camped in a small clearing just south of your village in the west woods.’
The lord bounded to his feet. ‘Then we must hurry, my queen. Nikita has spies everywhere and I fear that the longer your warriors are out in the open the easier it will be for her to find them.’
THE RUSTLING of branches and cracking of twigs stirred Amber into action. She concealed Redka’s body with fallen leaves until he looked nothing more than a part of the undergrowth and then signalled for the others to hide behind the trees surrounding the clearing.
Myanna had stamped out the fire, digging up the earth to bury the embers before covering the whole area with moss and sticks and hiding with the others behind the trees.
The figure that broke into the clearing startled Amber. She pressed her hands to her mouth to stop herself from crying out and squatted lower to the ground. He didn’t look like a faerie. Apart from Connor having brown hair due to his part-witch heritage, Amber understood that all fae had white hair. This figure had a shock of bright red hair which hung in lank tendrils around an unshaved face, and a deep scar running down the side of his face from above his eyebrow to his chin. He was carrying a heavy axe in one hand and a dirty sack in the other.
He sniffed the air and turned full circle, moving towards Redka’s camouflaged body. Amber braced herself, ready to spring forward. She slid a small dagger that Connor had given her from her belt and prepared herself to strike.