by Kristie Cook
Paki stared somberly ahead. His frown couldn’t have been tighter if he’d just been told Oran was after his own daughter. “I’m afraid it won’t matter. It’s a fairly simple rule of the land and must be followed.”
“Damn … he can really make her break her vows?” I frowned, fighting the hopelessness away. “Got to figure something out.”
Paki’s liquid dark eyes didn’t look at me but instead stared at his home, the Scren Palace. “Oran can make her marry him, and he will. Faerie has laws in place to keep its integrity. Unfortunately, he’s in the right. There’s no hope.”
I thought about his words for few moments, feeling the same despair sneaking into me, the same thing I’d felt when I had faced Seritus. I didn’t want to hear how we’d already lost this fight. We had to hope, somehow, or everything was already lost. There had to be something that could help us. Or someone.
I scanned the endless stream of Unseelie for the Elder King Seritus. At least he seemed able to manipulate Oran a bit. I was still alive, wasn’t I? It made me wonder what his ulterior motive was. There always was one when it came to the Unseelie. There never was a straightforward faery now that I thought about it. Still, he could have had me killed when he knocked me out. But I was alive, a prisoner of the Unseelie. If he hadn’t wanted me dead, why had he steered Oran into this direction in the first place? What was in it for him?
A flicker to my side made me glance into the forest. I could’ve sworn I’d seen something, but try as I might, I saw no other movement. Was I seeing things now? A tiny prickle of magic touched me, and I straightened up to concentrate on grasping onto it with what little magic I could wrangle. When I finally managed to lock onto it, it tightened around me and began infusing me with a thin but potent thread of healing magic.
Small sparks of energy hummed through it and into my skin, spreading across my body like worker ants hurrying to repair the damage. My arm had a crack in the radial bone, near my wrist, where it was purple and swollen. The stream of magic pumped into it and got to work fixing the break.
I hissed quietly as the bone snapped together and the swelling began to recede. The work it took to keep my face straight as the excruciating pain ripped through my arm while the bone regrew and straightened was enough to get me sweating. My shirt was drenched in no time, making the dirt on it dark and streaky. Still, it was hard to tell I was soaked, since I was filthy and streaked with blood and forest debris. I leaned forward, steadying myself on the side of the wagon as I felt the blood drain from my face.
Who was providing me with this healing magic? I laid my head against the wooden frame of the wagon and peered out from the covering into the thick of the woods, hoping to catch more than the sliver of magic connecting me to the person helping me.
Don’t look for us, you won’t see anything.
I jerked. I knew the voice speaking in my head right now. Sary? But how?
Shade knows what’s going on; she’s preparing for your arrival. Nyol and Nautilus discovered you’d been taken prisoner. Braelynn and I are here to help you heal. Stay where you are, don’t try anything funny. The palace is preparing. There will be war.
That’s just great. I cringed and sucked in a breath again as my arm finished healing and my lips began to mend. There was crusty, dried blood all over my face, and I was sure I looked frightful with my hair mussed up and my clothes torn. Still, I was relieved to hear from the Vyn princess.
What do you want me to do? I asked her. It was weird, this talking inside my head. Now I knew how Shade felt her entire life, plagued by spirit guides until she managed to banish them. Entirely accidental, but still. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but I managed to keep my face straight as Sary continued to talk to me.
Just heal. We’ll figure out a plan once Oran brings you inside the gates of the Scren. Oh, try not to scream, there’s an infection in the cut on your back.
A searing stab hit me where Seritus had cut my back. My face screwed up as I bit down on my tongue to keep from yelling out. The wound began to feel wet, like blood was pouring from it again, down my back and onto the top of my jeans. After a moment, it stopped bleeding and a cooling sensation took over, giving me relief as I panted and tried to relax. I wasn’t liking my mortal body at the moment, even if it was stronger than a regular human’s. I felt vulnerable against Oran’s army, weak and fragile. I’d been nothing but scum under Seritus’s boot when he’d smashed me down without effort. I stared ahead as my breathing returned to normal and Sary and Braelynn’s magic withdrew, leaving me pain-free for a moment, but in a sour, glum mood.
I was going to have to up my training and fighting skills. I was good, but I was nothing compared to the stronger, older faeries. This fact alone forced me into an even crankier mood.
Stay alive. We’ll see you soon. Sary cut me off, and the feel of her magic retreating left me empty instead of shiny and new. My body wasn’t made to be healed by faery magic, but she didn’t know that. My uncle Brendan had noted this in his grimoire, how elementals suffered from ill effects from being exposed too long to faery magic. Especially healing magic. It wasn’t lethal and wouldn’t kill us, but it took a few days to feel normal again after prolonged exposure to large doses of it. I was hating this fact right now, because my stomach was not happy, still bubbling and lurching about even though I’d had nothing to eat for over a day and had heaved out what was left of the bile and fluid in it.
At least my pain had receded. Had to look on the bright side, right?
Chapter Twenty-Three Return to the Scren
Return to the Scren
April 20th 1703
I made a crucial error, and it has cost me my entire being. After months of trying to trap the creature in the woods lingering just within the human realm and near the border of Faerie, I finally caught her and killed her with the Empyrean blade. It cut her with fire and set her ablaze until she was nothing but ash. Yet in her death, she has cursed me.
I feel that she has done something to alter my body’s ability to harness magic. My magic withers, and I am unable to cast the simplest of spells. It has caused my body to weaken to the point of exhaustion. My wife fears that I might not make it to the end of the month.
What spell did she use? I must discover the origin of this curse which has rendered me powerless. It can be used to exterminate all elementals across the world. My fear is that someone has started this war against us, and if we do not find a way to stop them, my kind will, before long, fade into oblivion.
~Brendan
The gates loomed above us, and I gripped the reins of the horse I now rode. After a brief stop for dinner, the legions had moved to camp around the Scren Palace before a small army entered the gates. Even though being there filled me with anticipation to see my family again, it’d been just a few days, and I didn’t want to see them under these circumstances. In no way would I have ever imagined I’d return as an Unseelie prisoner. Oran, who was now sitting on his own steed at the front of the procession, was discussing things with his servant, who in turn approached the gate to speak with the gatekeeper. The gates were laced in iron, which caused the servant agony while he stood there and breathed in the fumes from it.
I found it stupid, really. They could have plopped me down and used me to speak to the gatekeeper without suffering any ill effects from the iron since I was human. But Oran wasn’t thinking, of course, and I’d have to figure out how to make sure it never crossed his mind that he could keep me for something other than a bargaining tool.
Oran turned red as he yelled at his servant and proceeded to push the poor guy over with a wave of his hand. The short troll retreated quickly, afraid of his master. I shook my head. This Oran guy was malevolent and would never get my approval for him to marry one of my sisters. He was being ridiculous if he thought his antics would be attractive. He had another thing coming if he thought for one second Shade would like him. I almost laughed out loud thinking of how that would pan out.
Shade would eat him a
live. I could guarantee it. I tried to stifle my smile as the gates opened and the procession began to funnel through. Most of the army had to stay outside the gates while Oran and a few chosen ranks of guards, along with his prized prisoners, entered the palace grounds. My sister was always amicable to negotiations, but she wasn’t a fool. If Oran thought his army was safe sitting outside the walls of the Scren Palace, he was sorely mistaken. There were hidden traps all over the place which could be set off if needed. That, and Shade’s fire magic could take out an entire army in one fell swoop. I’d seen her do it before, and it was a horrendous sight.
Soon, I’d get out of the confines of the cursed dark creature horse I was now riding whose magic felt as sickly as the Unseelie soldiers’ degenerative magic surrounding me, those who had been banished for far too long, along with the newly escaped Unseelie who’d joined Oran’s ranks. The hope of regaining their land from the Seelie was apparent in their faces. They’d enjoy wreaking havoc across the land once again. I’d die fighting if I could keep them from ruling again. Things weren’t looking too good as we entered the gates, and we were eyed with fear and suspicion by the locals, the very people my sister had sworn to protect.
I hoped this wasn’t a trap in any way. No matter what, Shade would have to answer to the Land of Faerie, try as she might to wriggle us out of this predicament while keeping her marriage intact. The whole situation made me sick, and my impatience was winning out.
We were immediately escorted by Nyol’s soldiers, those who had remained in the castle when we’d left for my family’s old house and Pyren. Some I recognized, some I didn’t. It made me wonder if Nyol and Nautilus had returned since my capture. I wasn’t sure how fast they’d get back since I still had the teleportation orb in my pack.
Well, crap ….
The realization that I could’ve teleported out of this mess made my cheeks burn. I’d been an ignorant fool, forgetting all about Camulus and the teleportation orb. It was too late to use it now; I was already back at the palace. Still, I bookmarked it in my head in case the Scren became overrun with Unseelie scum.
When we had gathered in the courtyard of the palace, one of the goblins reached up to me with a dagger. I was about to kick him away when he motioned to the ropes. His face was expressionless, like he found all of this boring. It was business as usual for him, another boring day at the office caring for prisoners and untying them right before death was delivered.
He had tusks sticking up from his bottom jaw, up and out of his mouth. There were even stacks of rings decorating them along with several rings hanging from the septum of his nose. Though his attire was traditional for the Unseelie, it appeared dingy and well used. I held my breath as he cut through the ropes and tugged at me without really helping me get down off the horse. My wrists were still bound, so I had a hell of a time swinging my leg over the saddle to land on the ground without toppling over. I stumbled, but managed to stay upright without breaking my neck.
A thud behind me followed by a yelp told me Paki wasn’t so fortunate. The goblin led the horses away to tie them up in the stable. I found Paki struggling to get up off the ground where he’d landed on his rear. Reaching over, I plucked him off the ground in one smooth pull.
He thanked me, but stared curiously at back, apparently shocked to find me doing much better than I’d looked earlier in the day.
“Glad to see you’re feeling much better than you did when you awoke, sir.”
I nodded. “Must be magic, right?” I winked. “Oh, and Paki?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t call me ‘sir.’ It makes me feel like an old man or a teacher who’s been at the same school since my mother was a child.”
He wrinkled his nose and looked terribly confused. I shook my head, breathing out as I sent a tiny string of fire magic down my arms to the wrist restraints and slowly cut the remaining rope ties with a fine sliver of fire. They should’ve thought better than to restrain a fire elemental with flammable ties. I grabbed Paki’s wrists and carefully singed a cut into his ties. The ropes fell to the ground in a scattered heap. He rubbed his wrists, looking grateful.
“Thank you, Benton.”
“Hey, no problem. Do you know where they stashed our weapons?”
He motioned toward the front of the group where Oran’s lieutenants were being interrogated by Nyol’s guards. “The one with the stringy hair and long rings encircling his shoulders and arms has them. Apparently he’s not good for anything else but holding things; that pack on his back is filled with gear, including our swords.”
I watched as the queen’s guards went through the guy’s pack, systematically laying out all the weapons. Mine was the fourth one pulled from the stack, and I stared at it hungrily. I felt naked without it.
“Time to get our stuff back.”
“But, sir … um, I mean Benton … shouldn’t we wait until we reach the queen?”
I looked at my sword, a longing surged through my chest. After taking in the number of Unseelie still surrounding me, my shoulders slumped. “You’re right. If we try to get to them now, it’ll turn into mayhem.”
Paki agreed, and we were immediately shoved from behind by a Draelik. I hated Draeliks, and the injury I’d recently gotten from one immediately started to ache as I was reminded of it. He pushed some of his dark magic into me through the blunt staff he used to shove us forward. At least he wasn’t touching us; that would be certain death. His poisonous talons were hidden under long, leather gloves. Most likely, the Unseelie didn’t want to accidently die from Draeliks either, so he probably had to cover them up while on duty. I got one glance at him and realized he was covered from head to toe, with only a pair of red, marble eyes peering out from a dingy black metal mask. At least I didn’t have to worry about his creepy, deathly touch, but I kept moving forward just in case he changed his mind on poisoning us. Paki followed suit.
We were led up the staircase and through familiar gardens where the crawling vines covered the walls with their creeping fingers, nearly covering the creamy stone underneath. Flower beds, vegetable patches and fruit orchids filled the inner levels of the palace grounds, and their attendants peered up at us as they finished their tasks for the evening, gathering their harvests. Most used magic to gather food, but there were some who were not as magically inclined and did it by hand. Some were humans, stolen from the mortal world and kept there all their lives as servants. Now, for those within the Scren, Shade had given them the freedom to leave if they wanted to. Most hadn’t. Their families were long dead in the human world, and a merciful ruler to tend to was the best job around.
They all watched us pass as we walked toward the palace entrance. The entrance was even more heavily guarded than the outside gates, but we entered without any opposition. I wondered if Shade knew the gravity of this situation. I was sure she didn’t yet know all the details, but she was sure to find out soon enough.
The ornate halls I had never quite called home before felt familiarly comforting as the palace’s magic welcomed me. I’d never paid attention to this welcome before and turned to find Paki with a slight grin on his face. He’d felt it as well, and it reenergized him as much as it had to me. I liked it and was thankful the Unseelie soldiers around us didn’t get any of the warm welcome. In fact, they looked downright spooked as they darted their eyes all around and constantly swatted at the air. I didn’t see what was tormenting them, but I was sure it had to do with the palace’s supernatural powers. Every palace had magic of its own, like they were living, breathing entities. Only the chosen ruler of a palace could control and use these powers. I hoped Shade was using every resource she had right now; we were going to need it.
We entered into the main throne room, and I watched as Oran headed up the group, looking unfazed by the invisible powers of the palace. Nothing seemed to bother him much, but he could just excel at hiding emotions, like Seritus. I had to admit, he had an air of grace and absolute calm which emanated from him, like any other royal. Th
is would be appreciated by my sister, but I was sure she’d be able to see past any façade he presented. The guy was tricky and conniving, that much was certain. It would take a miracle to get through whatever was going to happen to all of us. Even for a powerful Seelie queen like Shade, there would be challenges ahead.
This thought deflated the tiny spark of confidence I’d regained by healing and reentering the Scren grounds. The faces of the crowd told me my fears were confirmed. This wasn’t going to be a cut and dry thing, but it was going to be a very eye opening one. I just hoped it wouldn’t be the end of everything I loved.
Chapter Twenty-Four The Truce
The Truce
Oran stood before Shade, looking fierce and calm, cool and confidant. He didn’t look like the same leery lord sitting back, relaxed and enjoying my duel of doom with Seritus. In fact, from his stance, he looked downright like a bona fide leader of something great. I hadn’t noticed how clean he kept his clothes compared to his filthy legions, but he was a king, after all, an Unseelie Sidhe, direct descendant of Arthas the Unseelie Ancient ruler of Faerie and rightful heir to the Unseelie throne. He was everything a leader should be, regardless of what realm he was heading up.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed as my sister Shade appeared, along with Anna and Dylan. They turned first toward the audience before taking to their seats while the entire room bowed, even the Unseelie army. I was surprised they would present themselves with such respect to an opposing court. It was awe-inspiring, thrilling and chilling all at the same time to see the Unseelie horde bowing before my sister.
“State who you are and your business in my realm.” Shade lowered her chin and drilled her eyes into Oran. I hoped the effect was working on him. She could make anyone feel pathetically miniscule from one icy glare. Oran appeared unaffected.
I wondered if she knew I was there. Before I could wave her down, she flicked her dark brown eyes at me and gave me a mental hug.