by K.N. Lee
There she was. The faerie. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered her face from long ago. The memory of her having tea with mother and father just the night before their arrest returned to me.
“My goodness,” she said. “What a lovely little lady you’ve grown up to be. Come, let me get a better look at you.”
Nervous and tense, I almost smiled at the compliment. But, the truth was, I wasn’t sure how to feel. I took another step forward, and she touched my hair, her eyes examining every inch of my face.
“Do you remember me? I am Queen Sorcha of Ever Frost.”
“I do.” How could I forget?
She’d taken a sample of my blood with the tip of her enchanted dagger. A little girl would never forget such a thing, no matter how much time had passed. I could still feel the sting and recall the way the blade glowed once it touched my blood, soaking it in as though quenched a desperate thirst.
“The war is over, and you are free to leave.”
My knees buckled, and with widened eyes, my breaths quickened. “Are you certain?”
“I am,” she said, stepping closer and taking my hands into hers. She stared down at them, stroking my rough skin with her thumbs. “I am sorry for how you’ve been mistreated, and how many years you’ve been forced to remain here. But, we have fought long and hard with the Tythrans to get you back. And, we’ve won.”
Picturing armies of magic-born fighting against humans left my stomach in knots. “They fought…for me?”
“Of course, they did. And now, I will take you to where you belong. To Allandria, the center of the Seelie Court.”
When I noticed that the warden and the guards were nowhere to be seen I knew it to be true. Despite my wariness, I nodded and was spirited away out into the cold. I did not ask questions, or delay my escape.
No. I was ready.
Whatever was before me would be better than a life of imprisonment. With Kala by my side, I climbed into the carriage and was wrapped in a heavy fur cloak.
If I was dreaming, I did not want to wake up ever again. I was free for the first time since I was a child. Even though I was about to be taken to a land I’d never seen other than in the books my grandmother had sent to me, I did not care.
A cold night with snow falling in torrents was the setting for my journey into the darkness of my fated future. My destiny. It was the day of my eighteenth birthday when the beautiful faerie queen took me away from the Crimson Tower.
My heart continued to race, and my muscles remained tense even as Kala snuggled close and kept me warm—even as we said goodbye to Tythra.
The humans were never my tribe, and each day on their soil was one day closer to my death.
No, I wasn’t born to die such an uneventful death. I’d come from a long line of faeries with immortal blood running through their veins.
I was Princess Celeste Delacord of the kingdom of Mordigan—an elemental chosen by the Guardians despite my heritage.
The first ever with the power to control all of the elements. Perhaps the humans were justified in my imprisonment, for it was prophecized that I could build or destroy nations with a single thought.
As we rode away, I began to wonder when any of that power would give me a sign it even existed.
Court of Shadows
The road from the Crimson Tower was one of darkness and uneven terrain. A pale moon lit the forest on either side and the worn path the carriage took.
“Here,” Queen Sorcha said. “Drink some more.”
She handed me another metal flask of warm brunberry elixir, something she had brewed before venturing across the borders from Allandria.
I accepted and drank enough the quench my thirst and the nagging hunger that ate away at my stomach. It was supposed to give me vitality. Though the taste of licorice lingered on my tongue, I was still waiting to feel such an effect.
We’d been traveling for hours, and Queen Sorcha sat across from me as I snuggled against Kala and fought dozing. It was cold, even with the heavy cloak she’d given me pressed tightly against my body. But, I was used to that. I was used to being uncomfortable and dreaming of warm baths like I’d gotten each night as a child.
It was good that I had experienced a better life—a normal one—but it made me realize just how spoiled I’d been. I was a princess, though my family and I were exiled, we lived a life of luxury. The privilege of a bath was a foreign concept to me now. I’d gotten used to scrubbing myself with rough cloths in cold water.
As Queen Sorcha studied me with those ethereal emerald eyes of hers, I was never more self-conscious of the stench that rose from my body in the midst of such a delicate and composed creature such as her. While she smelled of mint oil, I couldn’t ignore the aroma of layers of sweat and dirt that rose from my rags.
“You’ll soon be returned to your former splendor, Princess. You’ll shine like a new golden coin.”
I lifted a brow. Had she been reading my thoughts? I hoped not. I wasn’t exactly sure what faeries from the Seelie Court could do.
But, the thought of her reading my mind left me wary. I’d gone from thoughts of escaping the carriage to find a quiet place to live out the rest of my life with Kala, to accepting my fate. After so many years in prison, I began to wonder if I was truly fit to be a princess, or a queen for that matter. I was a stranger to the customs I should have learned while I was a prisoner. My grandmother had done all she could to prepare me, but I couldn’t help sensing I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
Then, again, there was something innate inside of me that begged to be satisfied. The Guardians had done something to me when I was born. They’d bestowed an ancient power and divine calling that I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t the only one given the gift.
The other elements called out to me from different corners of the world, and for years I’d had to close my eyes and suppress my yearning to be united with them.
“Thank you,” I said, swallowing against the dryness in my throat. I took another sip of the elixir. “For taking me from that wretched place. I was starting to think I’d die there. Every day, I waited for the warden to open the door and march me out to the gallows.”
“It was the least I could do. After years of war with the humans, I requested the honor of freeing you myself.”
“So, you aren’t afraid of me?”
“Of course, not,” she said with a chuckle. “Why would I fear you?”
Shrugging, I looked to Kala who was sleeping, her head rested on my lap as her body took up nearly the entire seat.
“Being from the Unseelie Court usually elicits prejudice from your court. We’re all tricksters and evil creatures, apparently.”
She shook her head with a sigh. “That’s nonsense. I’ve lived a very long time, and I know that many facts have been bent to fit the perception some faeries would like to define the Unseelie. No. We were all one in the beginning. The fact that you come from the land of dark magic is actually why you were chosen. The Seelie and Unseelie Court have been at odds for centuries, just like the humans. But, I think its time we stop dividing ourselves. The future demands unity.”
Interesting. I still couldn’t help but worry about what the faeries of Allandria would think of me.
“Did you fight?” I asked. “In the war?”
“Oh no,” she said, smoothing her emerald skirt. “Of course, not. I don’t use a sword. Well, I guess you can say I fight with my intellect. I’ve been making policies and negotiating treaties. Finally, King Aerion and the other four kings agreed to one. So, for the first time in nearly a century, the magic-born will have peace with the humans.”
I sat up a little taller. “Why? What made them agree to peace?”
She tilted her head. “Because you and the other elementals will put the world right again. The Veil between the living and the dead needs to be repaired. Only you can do it.”
Such a revelation stunned me into silence. It made sense. They needed me to reverse the damage my ancestors ha
d done after centuries of power struggles and war. So, I wasn’t free at all it seemed. We settled into a quiet that left me alone with my thoughts.
Queen Sorcha yawned and opened a small book. How she could read in the dark was a mystery, but I kept my mouth shut as her eyes scanned whatever was written on the cream parchment.
The sound of the steady trot of the horses as they pulled us along lulled me in and out of sleep. It wasn’t until they made a sudden stop that I fully awakened.
“That’s odd,” she said, leaning over to look out the carriage window, and my teeth chattered as an icy wind swept inside. “Harold, why have we stopped?”
When Harold didn’t respond, I tensed. Something wasn’t right. The horses made a strange neighing sound as if they were being strangled. Sitting up in my seat, I followed her gaze out the window to see dancing flames coming closer and closer to us from the dark forest outside.
Humans. My eyes widened as I realized that several armed men were approaching.
It wasn’t until one of the lights came soaring toward us that Queen Sorcha shared my fear.
I knew my freedom wasn’t meant to last long. They’d come to kill me.
Court of Shadows
Kala growled, standing on all fours, ready to pounce. Dark figures emerged and I realized that outside the carriage was a mob of people with torches, spears, and swords.
“They’re blocking the path,” she said, sucking her teeth. “Bloody fools. I swear they never learn.”
“Can’t we go around?” I asked, my pulse quickening as the carriage began to rock from their pushing.
They began chanting so loudly that I had to resist the urge to cover my ears. Such anger and hate. I was used to being hated, but nothing like this. The prison guards never shouted insults and slurs.
“Hand over the witch.”
Witch?
“Give us the witch.”
“She is not welcome in Tythra or anywhere else in the human realm.”
I paled, an icy ripple racing up my spine. They were talking about me.
“We are leaving, actually,” Queen Sorcha assured them.
A large hand reached in and tried to open the locked carriage door. Queen Sorcha pointed her wand at him and sent a shard of red light into his palm, zapping him. The man snatched his hand back with a howl.
Visions of my mother and father being ripped away from me as I screamed and cried returned. If my grandmother hadn’t held me back, I would have clung to my father’s leg and been carried off to the gallows along with them.
“Don’t they know you’re their only chance at being free from those blasted dark spirits?”
Panicked, I looked from her and to the fire that began to rise. We were going to die, and she was acting as if they were simply coming over for a little spat. No, I knew better. Closing my eyes, I began to call on the power I’d been awaiting all of my life. It had to present itself now.
“No,” she said. “Don’t shift. Not now. You must save your strength.”
My eyes popped open and my jaw hung. “You are reading my mind, aren’t you?”
With a shrug, she frowned at the men outside. She pulled a band off of a rolled scroll and held it up to the window. “I have a royal decree here from the king. Now, step aside so we can pass. We don’t want any trouble.”
For a moment, there was a tense silence. A few hushed whispers passed between the burly men outside and the cloaked holy men with them. I couldn’t help but hold my breath as we awaited their reply. With narrowed eyes, I examined the golden embroidery on the black cloaks worn by the clerics outside. Dark eyes looked back at me, and I coiled back with realization.
I’d seen those symbols before. The men who had taken my parents away had worn them on their cloaks.
How many times had I had nightmares of the clerics and soldiers coming in the night to rip me from my meager cot in the Crimson Tower and carrying me to my death?
“See?” Queen Sorcha asked through clenched teeth. “It’s all here, in writing.”
The carriage shook as a torch came crashing into the side, sending flames flying.
There was our answer.
She shook her head, more annoyed than afraid, and took a wand from a holster strapped and buckled around her shoulder and waist. She tapped it twice to the wooden door and it lit up a bright red. With a glance at me, she nodded to the mob of shouting humans outside.
“Hold open the curtain, my dear.”
I did as I was told and hurried to hold the maroon curtains open. Her eyes turned completely white. She lifted her wand and with a mumbled series of words I’d never heard, a bubble floated free from the tip of the wand. My eyes widened as the bubble grew until it seeped out of the carriage and enveloped the entire thing.
The shouts and curses from outside were muted and Queen Sorcha pointed her wand directly at the mob. “Well,” she said. “That’ll be enough of that.”
I sat on the edge of my seat and watched in awe as the carriage was lifted into the sky. I held onto the window ledge as we ascended high into the clouds.
“How did you do that?” With wide eyes, I looked down at the dark thatch of forest and how it ended at an expansive meadow littered with white trees encrusted with snow. It was beautiful, even in the dark.
She sat back in her seat and rubbed her temples. “It’s nothing really, dear. Just a bit of faerie dust. Too bad, though. I was saving it for at least until we were out of Tythra. Looks like we’ll be sailing through the frozen sea. No worries. The Royal Guard and Prince Ewan will be waiting for us—as negotiated with King Aerion. They’ll make sure we have safe passage through the Veil of the dead.”
“Prince Ewan?”
She nodded, studying my face again. “Yes. The wind elemental.”
Stunned, I slumped back in my seat. Just brilliant. No one told me I’d meet another elemental so soon. I breathed in and tried to calm myself.
It seemed I was in for a bit of an adventure.
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An Look at Fallen Empire
A first kiss was supposed to be special. Memorable. As Tomas pulled away from Amalia, her eyes opened with confusion.
Is that it?
Her silver-gray eyes filled with disappointment.
Was that what she'd been waiting for all of her life?
The taste of onion was on his tongue, and the coarse feel of chapped lips didn't help the experience.
He gave her a grin—a gap-toothed one she had hoped she'd grow to appreciate, maybe even love one day.
Amalia couldn't afford to be picky. Though Tomas wasn't the most handsome, or even the smartest lad in the village, he had proclaimed his love for her. He knew a trade and was kind.
She licked her lips and forced a tight smile.
He'd have to do.
It was a fact that not many would even consider marrying a Mage. Especially one like Amalia—one marked by the gods. Not when Mages were being hunted down by Wolves, or even worse, the Brotherhood.
Skal was neutral territory. But, invisible borders meant nothing when the people within them held the same prejudice as those outside.
“So,” he said, his cheeks reddening. “What do you think?
“It was lovely,” she lied, blinking.
The look of relief on his face was reassuring. Within a month's time, Amalia would be fifteen and of age. She'd be Tomas' wife.
“Good,” he said. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this moment. Seems like all of my life. For as long as I could remember. At night, all I can think of are the way your eyes remind me of the night sky, and how I’d give anything to look into your eyes every day until the day I die.”
Her smile turned genuine. She should set aside her selfish vanity and desire for a handsome boy, one who would make her heart sing. The time for silly childish ideas about what life would hold was coming to an end. It was time for her to accept her fate and prepare for a simple life with a simple man.
“I had no i
dea,” she said, reaching out for his hand.
“Of course, you didn’t. You barely looked at me until our parents made the arrangement.”
She ran her fingers through the tangles of her hair. Somehow the long, black strands always seemed to knot around one another. “That’s not true. You are a very nice young man. Any girl would be happy to have you.”
“That’s nice of you to say. But, I know I’m not a knight or a raider or anything special like that.”
“It is the truth. I can’t think of anyone kinder than you in the village,” she said and glanced at the paling sky. The smell of rain was faint in the air, but the clouds were darkening by the minute. “Perhaps we should return to the village. It looks like a storm is coming this way.”
He followed her gaze, combing his long dark hair from his mahogany-colored eyes. “I think you're right.” He reached for her hand. Amalia accepted and he pulled her to her feet.
She brushed grass from her faded blue gown and gray smock and stretched her arms above her head. By the bubbling brook at the foot of the Weeping Mountain, they had feasted on ripe mango and warm honey bread her mother had prepared for their first excursion alone as intended mates.
Tonight, there would be a feast. Their families would dine together and their fathers would discuss matters of joining their resources.
It was the way of the Skal.
A way Amalia wished she could forever be free of.
Together, they gathered their blanket and basket, while the scent of burning wood wafted their way.
Her brows furrowed as she stood to her full height—almost as tall as Tomas. He studied her face, and reached for her hand.
“What’s wrong?”
She sniffed the air, and pulled her hand away from his. Warnings bubbled in her belly. “Do you smell something?”
“I do, actually,” he said, frowning. “What is that? Is something burning?”
The air smelled of charcoal and sulfur. Realization washed over Amalia and her face drained of color. She knew that smell.