“For the most part?” Keenan bellowed.
Peripheral awareness of rapid movement came before my eye detected it – a tall, broad-shouldered Fae moving swiftly, snatching up one of the dagger's he'd been forced to drop. He threw it with a powerful swing of his arm and it sped towards Conal. There was no time to shout a warning; I concentrated on the dagger instead, halting its progress mere inches from Conal's chest.
Silence descended as I drew the dagger into my outstretched hand and it settled gently on my palm. The Fae who'd thrown it glowered, animosity evident in the set of his jaw and the flaming anger in his scarlet eyes.
I walked across to him, his hatred a tangible sensation in the air between us. My arm outstretched, I offered the dagger back to him. “You don't believe what we've told you,” I stated.
He stared at me, eyes filled with skepticism.
“Take it!” I growled.
“Why do you think I won't kill you?” he snapped, his voice a rich baritone.
I shrugged. “You can try.”
Conal and the others behind me reacted, but I held up a hand to warn them against doing anything. “What's your name?”
“Gilborg of Tamekeel.”
“Gilborg, take your dagger,” I ordered. Lucas and Lyell took up positions on either side of the Fae man, ready to swoop if he did attack. “I have no use for it, and you'll need it when you return to the Realm.”
He tilted his head, and I endeavored to read the emotions dancing in his eyes. It was an immensely difficult task to accomplish with a Fae.
“I have no wish to harm you, or any of the other Fae. My friends have only fought because it was essential to their survival.” Grabbing his hand, I placed the dagger in his palm and curled his fingers around the handle. “It's your choice. You can join us, or continue fighting against us. Choose to believe Aethelwine, or open your minds to the possibility she's been lying to you. All of you.” I turned away from Gilborg and looked at the other Fae. “I don't have any proof. Only Keenan, standing here now, telling you how he died and trying to make you see the truth. My only desire is to take Zaen back and provide safety for our group. If you want to leave, you'll be allowed to go.”
“Charlotte!” Conal snarled.
I offered him a weak smile. “I'm not killing any of the Fae, Conal. I won't keep them as prisoners, either. They join us of their own free will, or they can return to the Realm.”
Keenan nodded, a satisfied smile curving his lips.
I turned back to Gilborg, wiping my clammy palms surreptitiously on my pants. I was incredibly uneasy, alert for any sudden moves, but trying to seem calm in front of the Fae. Lucas smiled his encouragement.
Gilborg towered over me, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You will let us leave?” he scoffed. “What sort of deception is this?”
I shook my head. “No deceit. You're in Aethelwine's service – obviously, you believe she's the true Queen. I have no issue with you personally and once I've secured Zaen, you'll be free to return home.”
He snorted. “Secured Zaen?” He glanced at the destroyed walls, the charred and blackened buildings. “There's nothing left to secure! What do you intend to do with it?”
“Rebuild.”
His laughter was raucous. “You? You can rebuild this wreck? This is nonsense.” He glanced at his fellow Fae, but none of them joined in his humor.
“She has the power to do many things, Gilborg,” Keenan confirmed, stepping up beside me. The King met my eye and smiled his support. “You would do well to reconsider your decision, once you've witnessed the extent of the Nememiah Child's abilities.”
Gilborg scoffed. “Rebuild this?” He dropped to his knees and glared at me insolently. “All right. I will watch this epic display of power. If you can rebuild that,” he indicated the ruins with a sharp dip of his head, “I will beg your forgiveness and eat my own crossbow.”
I glanced at Conal and he nodded and winked. Keenan ordered the Fae to sit on the ground and our group formed a vigilant circle around them.
Surveying the ruins, profound sadness overwhelmed me. This had been our home. With friends and family, it was somewhere I'd felt safe, a place which had given me a sense of security in a world turned on its ear. Looking at the ruins, I doubted I could repair so much devastation. Fixing the generators had taken enormous amounts of energy. Trying to rebuild an entire city was so far beyond what I was capable of, my knees began to shake as I berated my stupidity. What had I been thinking? Why would Nememiah suggest this was possible? It was hopeless.
“No, it isn't Charlotte. You have the power to repair Zaen. Take a deep breath, relax and begin,” Mom encouraged.
“Start with the wall, Lott. The inside can be worked on in sections; once the walls are secured and you've got the generators up and running,” Phelan added. “And isn't it about time Keenan and me were in charge of guarding you again?”
Despite the apprehension, I grinned. “Promise I'll have you back on guard duty, just as soon as I've fixed this,” I muttered.
Keenan dropped a meaty hand onto my shoulder. “I will provide support and remain in solid form. I believe that will be best, given we still have some non-believers.”
Biting my lip, I took a further minute to settle my nerves, shaking my hands restlessly by my sides. The walls were immense, where should I start? I avoided the Fae's eyes – Gilborg's in particular – knowing the scorn I'd see would only erode my confidence further.
“Charlotte, listen to me,” Lucas commanded. “Don't allow this to overwhelm you. Nememiah knows you can do it; we all know you can do it. You need to repeat the same actions you used for the generators.”
“The power generators were tiny in comparison,” I grumbled.
“Charlotte, do not allow the size of the walls to intimidate you. We will all be supporting you and you know how far your abilities have progressed. Now, stop wasting time and get on with it,” Lucas ordered.
Heaving a sigh, I shut my eyes and visualized the walls – imagining them as I remembered them, standing tall and sturdy in the sunlight. The spirits joined together, providing support as I raised my arms from my sides.
The exertion required was significant, far greater than I'd needed to rebuild the generators and beads of perspiration erupted on my forehead. Keenan placed his hands on my shoulders and extra energy pulsed from his hands into my skin.
I was dimly aware of the Fae shouting, and noise erupting from the ruins of the city. A rumble exploded across the plain, startling me and I opened my eyes briefly to see pieces of the granite walls, hovering in the air above us. They seemed like asteroids, floating in the sky, some of the pieces more than eight feet wide and nearly as long.
“Concentrate, Charlotte,” Lucas warned.
Pounding erupted in my temples, starbursts of pain exploding against my eyelids while I concentrated on drawing the pieces together. Keenan's hands slipped away from my shoulders, replaced by a set of arms wrapped tightly around my waist. The scent of Conal drifted over my senses, he was standing close to keep me upright. Keenan stood at my side, resting his hands on my right arm and providing a boost of concentrated energy. I didn't know how it worked, what type of magic it was that gave me some of Keenan's formidable strength, but I was grateful to have it.
Sweat poured from my skin as I nudged at the rubble gently. The pain grew to be so acute, I was frightened of losing consciousness, but Conal pressed his lips against my ear, whispering softly. “I love you, Charlotte. I know you can do this.”
Intensifying my efforts, the pieces began to draw together. Ignoring the collective gasps and shouts from the Fae, I watched the pieces' mold together and join, sealing along each ridge and crevice with a burst of dazzling light, until the wall stood proud and tall against the grassy plain again, the gate back in position, the markings on the walls exactly as they had been before Zaen's destruction.
Leaning back against Conal, I shut my eyes in relief and throbbing pain overwhelmed cognitive thought.
A sting on my arm woke me and I glared at Conal. “What was that for?”
Conal grinned. “You were overdue for your jab. Jerome told me I had to make sure you got it, no matter what.”
“You had to jab me when I was sleeping?” I demanded.
“More than four hours had passed. Not my fault you happened to be unconscious at the time.”
I rubbed my fists against my eyes and glanced around. “I did it.”
Conal's gaze shifted to the immense wall he was leaning against, with me draped across his lap. “You certainly did.”
Straightening up, I glanced around to see what was happening. My head still ached and I was exhausted. “The Fae?”
Conal grinned, brushing a stray curl from my cheek. “We've got fifty-five new Fae on our side.”
“Even that Gilborg guy?”
“Even that Gilborg guy. Once he saw what you were capable of, I think he was frightened of siding with the wrong team.”
Ben strode towards us and my heart sank when I surveyed the devastation behind him. Conal had moved inside the walls and how much more needed to be done was patently obvious. We had a wall, but nothing else.
Ben crouched at my side, offering me a short-lived smile. “Better?”
“A bit.”
“We've reconnoitered the city – every building suffered extensive damage. The generators look as if atomic bombs hit them. The armory is destroyed; no useable weapons. No running water and obviously, no power.”
I scrambled to my feet, a tiny moan escaping my lips. Conal got up, holding my arm. “Easy, Sugar. You used a hell of a lot of energy getting the walls up.” He reached into his pocket, withdrawing a bottle of pills which he handed over, along with a water bottle. “Jerome sent them along,” he explained, “he figured this would take a toll on you.”
I swallowed a couple of the pills, washing them down with cool water and scanned the surrounding area. “I don't have time to take it easy,” I muttered, eyeing the buildings around us. “We need to get the generators on line.”
“Baby, I'm not sure you're ready for that just yet,” Matt appeared at Ben's side, eyeing me with a concerned frown.
I caught a glimpse of some of the Fae standing on the ramparts, weapons at the ready and on alert for approaching danger. “We need the generators operational. If the Drâghici turn up, they'll have the walls blown to smithereens again if we don't have any shields.”
Matt, Ben, and Conal exchanged a pointed look before Matt grudgingly agreed. “All right, Charlotte. But then, you take a break.”
We set off through the cobblestoned streets and the extent of the damage had me cringing. Nothing had survived, not one building was recognizable. Bright sunlight filtering overhead only made everything look worse.
“Where is everybody?” I questioned, rubbing my temples to try and relieve the pounding.
“Clint, Striker, Ripley, and William are up on the battlements, keeping an eye on our new friends. Nick and the other guys have headed back through the portal, to bring everyone up to speed and get some of the witches here, have them start working on enchantments to protect what we do have.”
“Keenan?” I'd suspected the Fae King would have disappeared the minute I lost consciousness.
Ben grinned. “He's working with the Fae, didn't even waver when you passed out. Nick's sending Goren and Arasinya back through the portal as well, so they can answer any other questions the Fae have.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Wow.”
“Seems you have new abilities springing up all over the place,” Matt agreed, a broad smile lifting his lips.
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
The generators took far longer than anyone could have projected, in no small part due to the thousands of tiny pieces spread over a massive expanse of the city. As Ben suggested, they looked as if they'd been nuked and I suspected Alberich Bran was responsible, believing the damage irreparable. I was determined to prove him wrong.
Completing the fourth shield, I created the glowing orb of energy needed to make it operational, then stood back to survey my handiwork. The sun was low on the horizon, the bright orange glow casting a spectacular aura of color over the charred ruins.
“If I had not seen it myself, I would never have believed the power you harness, Little One.” Goren announced, standing to one side with Conal and Ripley.
With a faint smile, I brushed my fingertips over my forehead, trying to soothe the pulsing headache which had settled in for the duration. “Where's Arasinya?”
“She's speaking to the Fae you've brought to our side,” Goren explained. “Seems they are much impressed by your skills.”
“It's not going to do us much good,” I announced. “The shields won't keep the Fae out when more of them get here.”
“Blinden tells us they were posted here for fourteen days; he and his group have been here for five days of this current rotation. Their replacements are not due to arrive until the next full moon cycle,” Goren advised, slipping into step beside me as I walked toward the courtyard. Conal was on my other side, his body tensed like a wound-up spring. His mistrust of the Fae was apparent and I couldn't blame him. I wished Ripley could read their minds, or I could touch them and receive access to their spirits. Despite repairing the walls and the generators, the list of problems we still faced seemed insurmountable.
“Doesn't leave us a lot of time,” I pointed out.
The sun was disappearing, making the destruction appear less desolate and I fretted over how long it would take to repair all the damage. When would we be able to move back into the city? The Drâghici would discover the walls had been repaired when the shift change occurred. Could I find a way to stop them before then? And how could we spread the word to the rest of the Fae about Aethelwine's treachery? Those who still fought for Aethelwine were unlikely to stop mid-battle and listen to reason, so how could we get the message to everyone?
“No, it does not,” Goren conceded. “But consider the positives. On the first attempt at bringing Fae to our side, we have increased our numbers by fifty-five of their finest warriors.”
“But are we sure we can trust them?” I questioned, with a nervous glance toward the battlements.
Conal sucked in a deep breath. “Keenan seems to think so.”
“You obviously don't?” I pointed out.
“Not yet. They seem okay, but we'll see how things pan out,” Conal confessed. “But if Gilborg reaches for that God-damned knife again, I'll shift and tear his throat out in a second.”
Goren placed a reassuring hand on Conal's shoulder. “I do not believe that situation will eventuate,” he said, “but Ripley has suggested a good idea, one which will perhaps bring about this trust more quickly.”
I came to a standstill. “What good idea?”
Ripley spoke up. “It occurred to me that we are not utilizing Conal's ability, and perhaps it would be helpful to have him probe the minds of those Fae we are bringing to our side.”
I shuddered, remembering the intense pain when Conal probed my mind, months back, when we'd been Laurence Armstrong's prisoners. That memory had always stopped me from using Conal's ability on anyone in our group, not willing to risk creating irreparable brain damage. “Not sure that's a great way of getting the Fae over to our side; not if we torture them from the get-go.”
Conal remained silent for a few seconds longer, rubbing the back of his head as he contemplated Ripley's suggestion. “It might work,” he admitted. “Could be worth a try.”
Goren twisted the beaded plait at the end of his beard. “I believe the proposal has great merit. I will volunteer to be the first Conal tries it on.”
“It could be dangerous,” Conal and I both voiced the words simultaneously and Goren nodded.
“If it will perpetuate a higher level of trust between us, I am willing to take that risk. After Ripley mentioned this concept, I spoke of it to Arasinya and we both
agreed that if Conal probes my mind and it is successful, he should be allowed to enter the minds of each Fae who turns to our side, allowing him to confirm their vow to join us is truthful.”
“What do you think, Charlotte?” Ripley questioned. “Should we allow Conal to probe the new Fae?”
I nodded cautiously. “If Arasinya and Goren both agree, I think it's a good start. But I'm still worried about what happens when new Fae arrive to take over guarding Zaen in nine days.”
Conal shook his head. “We've got plenty to think about now, Sugar, let's not borrow more trouble before we have to. You've had enough for today; let's head home.”
I nodded and Conal glanced at Goren. “Think we can trust this group of Fae to keep guard overnight, or will I call in reinforcements?”
Goren considered for only a moment. “Reinforcements would be in order. They seem committed, and I've spoken to each of them personally, but given the incident with Gilborg, it would seem pertinent to err on the side of caution. At least until we can conduct these probes.”
Conal nodded, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck tiredly. “We'll take thirty of them with us, and we'll send reinforcements through.” He paused for a split-second before continuing, his tone deceptively casual. “We'll take Gilborg with us.”
“I will pass on those orders.” Goren slipped away, striding towards the steps up to the ramparts.
I peeked up at Conal, saw the steely determination in his eyes. “We need to find a way to trust them, Conal.”
Conal held my gaze, his expression softening before he brushed a kiss across my forehead. “Trust needs to be earned and after what happened the last time we trusted a Fae…” His voice trailed off and he squeezed me against him in a fervent hug. “I'm not taking any risks with you. Until we've had a chance to probe every one of them, we maintain a high alert level.”
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
I was delighted when Rowena met us on our return to camp, Patrick was cradled in her arms and I leaned over him, dropping a kiss on his smooth forehead. “Has he been okay?”
Knowledge Protects (The Nememiah Chronicles Book 5) Page 18