Shadow Faerie

by Rachel Morgan

  Ada pumps her fist in the air, as if she’s cheering them on. As if this is a game. Then, because it probably is a game to her, she waves her fingers through the air in a graceful motion. As I watch, the jagged glass circle begins splintering inwards, growing rapidly smaller.

  Crapping hell. I’m not hiding any longer. I launch up from behind the rock and bolt past the fighting toward the edge of the island. The glass circle reaches the first statue and crunches it to pieces. The other statues edge closer to the center, where Ryn, Vi and Dash slice through the air with their weapons and spin and throw their magic. They manage to shatter one of the statues, and then another. They could probably knock each one down almost instantly in hand-to-hand combat, but I can tell none of them wants to risk touching Ada’s glass.

  The circle grows smaller, and Ada’s grin grows more twisted, even as she watches another one of her own statues taken down by the encroaching edge of her circle. “Stop!” I scream as I get closer to them. “Ada, stop!” She cocks her head to the side, then turns enough to look at me. Her magic, however, doesn’t change. “Ada, please,” I gasp, slowing down and hoping to appeal to whatever part of Dani is left inside their body. The only part that might still care about me. “Stop, please!” I shout again. “They’re my parents!”

  I come to a halt a few paces away from Ada, my chest heaving as I catch my breath, my words still ringing in my ears. In the center of the circle, Violet and Ryn stop fighting. Their eyes lock onto me, and on their faces I see … blank shock.

  A solid glass arm swings toward them. Dash jumps forward, brings his sword down, and slices clear through the statue’s arm. At the same time, Ada charges at me. Her magic lashes out, slapping me across the face and knocking me sideways. My knees and palms scream out at me as I land hard on the ground. Hands grip my shoulders and shove me over onto my back. The next thing I know, Ada’s leaning over me, both hands around my neck. “Are you kidding me? You tell me that those guardians are your parents, and you expect me to stop attacking them? How stupid are you?” She squeezes harder. “Those are the two people who left us to suffer at Prince Marzell’s hands. Now I definitely want to make them suf—Argh!”

  Her hands disappear from around my neck. She twists to the side, and as I cough and gasp for air, I see a glowing arrow protruding from her shoulder. “Damn guardians,” Ada hisses, looking behind her. I push myself up and follow her gaze. At the center of the glass circle I see Violet—my mother—with a fierce expression on her face, and her bow and another arrow pointed straight at Ada.

  Ada rolls instantly away from me, and I duck down too, just in case Vi lets that arrow go. I’m about to scramble back toward the circle when something grabs onto my ankle and drags me back. “Where do you think you’re off to?” Ada asks. The arrow is gone from her shoulder, which means she must have somehow ripped it free herself. “I’m not done with you. And don’t—” she adds, grabbing my jaw and forcing me to face her “—worry about your parents. My glass guardians are making sure to inflict as much pain as they can.”

  I swat her hand away, then swing my arm around and punch her face as hard as I can—which probably hurt me as much as it hurt her, but was worth it to see the look on her face.

  “Oh, you little—”

  “Get the hell off me!” I yell at her, kicking with both my feet. She slides a little further away from me toward the edge of the island, and by the time she sits up again, I’ve got the smallest glimmer of magic zapping back and forth between my hands.

  She laughs at me, which I suppose is warranted. “What are you going to do with that, Em? Tickle me? Because that’s about the only thing such a pathetic amount of magic can achieve.”

  I imagine digging down deep to wherever my core of magic is, and pulling it free. More and more and more. It doesn’t seem to make much difference, but any difference is better than none.

  “You know what, Em?” Ada says, unconcerned by whatever power I’m gathering between my palms. “I don’t particularly care if you survive this battle or not. The prince asked me to retrieve you, so I did. But he isn’t watching right now, so I can easily say it was someone else who did it when I bring your dead body back to him in multiple pieces.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “Nope, just looking out for myself. Something I’m sure you can identify with.”

  “Not like this.” Behind her in the sky, I notice strange ovoid shapes moving toward us. Shapes that look like they have people inside them. Crap. Who do we have to fight off now?

  “He wants us both to use our powers for him, did you know that?” Ada says. “And while that might be a great idea for him, I don’t see that working out so well for me. I wouldn’t want to have to compete to be the favorite weapon, you know? So.” She stands up and shoots a stream of glass at me. I scoot to the side, and it narrowly misses me. “While I like this kind of game, I think we should probably bring it to a—”

  I hurl everything I’ve got at her. It’s pathetic, probably not even enough to stun her, but it knocks her down, spins her over twice—and rolls her clear off the edge of the island.

  “Holy crap,” I gasp. “Crap, crap, crap.” I push myself up and rush to the edge. Far below, I can just make out the white bubbles from the splash where she must have landed. Is she dead? Or is this another thing a faerie can easily survive? And why the hell do I care when she just tried to kill me?

  I turn and race back toward the only people who matter now: Vi, Ryn and Dash, who are—where? I skid to a halt. A pile of shattered glass sits in the middle of the enclosing circle. Hell, if they’re part of that pile of glass, I might have to—

  “Em!” Violet shouts my name from the other side of the circle, where she and Ryn are fighting off another three glass statues. I take off toward them—

  And I’m knocked to the side by a bright bolt of magic.

  Moments later, darkness clears from the edges of my vision. I find myself face-down on the ground, horrendous pain burning my side. I manage to roll over and sit up. My hand comes away from my side covered in blood, but I try not to panic. Faeries can heal easily, I remind myself. This is totally fine.

  “Emerson!” someone screams.

  I look around. The ovoid shapes I saw in the air have landed on the island. They remind me a little of the prison cell spheres, although the glass isn’t as dark, and there are no bars anywhere. On one side, I notice a gold emblem I might possibly have seen on uniforms at the Guild.

  “Em!” someone shouts again. Amidst the chaos of Unseelies and guardians running everywhere, I finally see them: Violet and Ryn, their hands and feet bound, being tossed into one of these ovoids. Dash, similarly restrained, is already inside.

  “No,” I mumble, managing to get to my feet. I stagger a few paces toward them. “No. Let them go.” I raise my voice. “Let them go!”

  The side of the ovoid closes up, and it rises a few feet above the ground. “No, stop. Stop!” I shout, pressing one hand against my wound and moving more quickly toward the vehicle. It skims above the ground, gaining speed, and then it’s off the island, gliding away from me, and the last I see of my parents is their faces pressed against the glass as they shout words I can’t hear.

  I drop onto my knees. I strike the ground with one fist and let out a furious cry. “Come back!” I yell. Anger, desperation and a heartbroken sob mingle together, making my voice crack as I scream even louder: “COME BACK!”

  Hands grab hold of me, and that voice I hate so much speaks into my ear. “Time to return to our shadow world, my dear. Wouldn’t want the guardians getting their grubby hands on you.”

  “NO!” I thrash against Roarke. Then my head jolts forward abruptly. Sickening pain radiates through my skull, and—

  Darkness.

  Forty-Four

  I wake in a room covered entirely in padding. The floor, the walls, even the ceiling. It’s probably Roarke’s idea of a sick joke, given the type of institution my mother—nope, not my mother. Dani—spent the past
five years in. Either that or he honestly thinks I’m so depressed about the current state of my life that I’m planning to hurt myself by ramming into walls.

  He wouldn’t be entirely wrong there.

  Not about the wall-ramming part. That would be excessive. But the depressed part isn’t far off. The same thoughts have been tormenting me since the moment I woke up. The same images. Vi and Ryn’s shock when I shouted, ‘They’re my parents!’ Their bodies pressed against the glass as that oval-shaped vehicle carried them away. Their silent shouts.

  I saved the veil, but I couldn’t save my own family. That’s how messed up my magic is. I have a super powerful Griffin Ability, but when I can’t use it, I’m essentially useless. I keep thinking of all the ways things might have ended differently for us if I knew what to do with my own magic. I could have attacked Ada from a distance. I could have helped to fight the glass statues. I could have protected someone with a shield while they fought someone else. I might, at this very moment, have been sitting with my family in the oasis, finally reunited after almost eighteen years.

  I also can’t help thinking about how things would have turned out if I hadn’t been there. I wouldn’t have distracted Violet and Ryn. They might have fought their way past the glass statues sooner. They wouldn’t have been so worried about what was happening to me that they let themselves get caught by the Guild. They’d probably be back at the oasis by now, and hopefully Dash would be with them.

  Although, if I hadn’t been at Velazar today, what would have happened to the widening gap in the veil?

  And of course, there’s the continual guilt regarding my mother. Dani. The person who became so weak she’s now locked inside the body she has to share. She isn’t the innocent person I always believed her to be, but I don’t think she’s anything like Ada either. If I’d had the chance, I could have commanded them each to have their own bodies. She and I could have had a second chance to get to know each other. Instead I pushed her over the edge of an island floating high up in the sky.

  I might possibly have killed her.

  And then there’s Dash. Dash who only ever wanted to help me. Who ended up in trouble because he braved the Unseelie Court to come and get me out. Who is now a guild prisoner just like my parents. I want to see him almost as badly as I want to see Violet and Ryn.

  And Bandit! Where is my Bandit?

  I tilt my head back against the padded wall, screw my eyes shut, and let my tears fall. What an absolute mess I’ve made.

  A bang on my cell door interrupts my crying. I wipe my hands quickly across my cheeks and stand. The padded door swings open and Roarke walks in. My hatred of him rears its ugly head instantly. I almost lunge at him, but then I notice the slight shimmer in the air that tells me he’s placed a shield between us.

  “I trust your wound has healed?” he asks.

  I nod. Barely a hint of a scar marked my skin by the time I woke up earlier. Now, two or three hours later, even the faint scar is gone. I sniff and ask, “Where am I?”

  “The shadow world, of course. I told you about these underground passages, didn’t I? Though I probably chose not to mention the prison cells.”

  “I wonder why,” I say, my voice weighted with sarcasm. “So, what are you doing here in my lovely cell? Got any more marriage proposals for me?”

  “No. That plan always hinged on your complete willingness. It would never work now. I’ll marry Clarina, which was always my ultimate intention. We needn’t wait any longer, now that we’ve relocated to this world.”

  “You’ve relocated? Officially? But this world belongs to me, not you. I claimed it.”

  Roarke looks almost amused. “You’re in a prison cell, and I’m in control. The necessary rituals still need to be performed, but for all intents and purposes, this world is already mine.”

  I cross my arms. “Your father must be thrilled about that.”

  “Not particularly. But I’m not here to talk about my family. I’m here to talk about yours.”

  “Where’s Aurora? She said she didn’t want to choose sides, but I assume she’ll have to now.”

  Roarke’s composure flickers for a second. “More specifically,” he continues, ignoring my interruption, “I’m here to talk about what an enormous disappointment it must have been for you to discover what kind of person your mother really is. You—”

  “Is? So she’s still alive?”

  Roarke’s narrowed eyes tell me he doesn’t appreciate being interrupted again. “We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose. But either way, you must feel so lost now, when your life’s purpose has always been to return your mother to exactly the way you remember her.” He takes a few steps closer to the magic layer that divides us. “You need a new purpose, Emerson. And I would love to give you one.”

  “You can take your new purpose and shove it up your—”

  “Let me remind you,” he says, speaking over me, “that you have nothing else left.”

  “I have a family. I have real parents who—”

  “Who are probably being executed by the Guild as we speak.”

  “Liar!” I walk right up to the shield layer and ball my hands into fists as I stare defiantly back at him. “The death penalty doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “True, but the Guild has been known to make exceptions. And, given how they feel about these Griffin Gifted rebels who’ve evaded them for years, I’m almost certain this will be one of those exceptions.” He folds his hands neatly together. “The Guild will kill them. Then they’ll find the rest of your Griffin rebel friends and lock them up. You will have no one and nothing. All you will know is the inside of this cell. And when you are finally broken, Emerson, then we can start again. We can build you a new life with a new purpose. One that involves serving me.”

  “Yeah, and pigs might fly.”

  He smiles. “Well, there’s always compulsion potion if you insist on being difficult. I’ll make sure your first compulsion command includes telling pigs to fly.” And with that, he walks out of the room.

  I return to the wall, slide down against it, and pound the padded floor with my fists a few times. But my anger dissipates quickly, my misery returning to take its place.

  “Don’t scream.”

  “Holy CRAP!” I gasp, my heart thundering instantly in my chest. I look across the room at Calla leaning against the wall. “What are you … are you real?” I wouldn’t put it past Roarke to play magical mind games with me.

  “Of course I’m real,” she says in a low voice. “I followed you and Roarke back here from Velazar Island. I’ve been waiting outside your cell for hours. I came in just now when he opened the door.”

  I push myself hurriedly to my feet. With my emotions so close to the surface, I can’t help the words that tumble from my mouth: “The Guild took them. They took Ryn and Vi, and I never—I didn’t get to speak to them—or … or even touch them. I tried so hard to get Ada away from them, and then they were gone. And Dash said the Guild has a special prison for the worst traitors, but Roarke said sometimes they just execute people instead. And they have Dash, and they know he’s been helping the Griffin rebels, and what if the Guild executes all three of—”

  “Stop,” Calla tells me firmly. She crosses the room and places her hands on my shoulders. “Stop. Breathe. Calm down. We’re going to get out of here. Then we’re going to get Ryn, Vi and Dash back. And then we’re going to kick this prince’s Unseelie ass. Okay?”

  I breathe out a long and shaky breath. “Okay. That sounds good.”

  “Oh, and I thought this might help you feel a little better.” She unzips her jacket, and nestled against her stomach is a black rabbit.

  “Bandit!” He jumps into my arms, and I almost start crying as I hug him close and rub my cheek against his soft hair.

  “He leaped away from you after Ada summoned you earlier, but I caught him and concealed him. He was with me the whole time at Velazar.”

  “Thank you for keeping him safe.”

&nbs
p; “Of course,” she says with a nod. “Now, help me decide on the best illusion to get us out of here.”

  PREORDER CREEPY HOLLOW #9

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  Don’t miss the thrilling conclusion to the Creepy Hollow series!

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  Acknowledgments

  Wow. That turned into a long one! My unending thanks go to …

  God, for creating stories in the first place, and for helping me imagine yet another one.

  Heather and Krista, for your helpful feedback and editing notes.

  Early readers who take the time to let me know about the typos I’ve missed.

  Creepy Hollow fans, for continuing Emerson’s journey with me.

  And of course, to Kyle, for understanding that I will always take longer than I say I will when I disappear into my fantasy worlds!

  ABOUT RACHEL AND HER BOOKS

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  Rachel Morgan spent a good deal of her childhood living in a fantasy land of her own making, crafting endless stories of make-believe and occasionally writing some of them down. After completing a degree in genetics and discovering she still wasn’t grown-up enough for a ‘real’ job, she decided to return to those story worlds still spinning around her imagination. These days she spends much of her time immersed in fantasy land once more, writing fiction for young adults and those young at heart.