So why did I feel so angry?
Shock, shock, shock, my brain said, repeating Alexia’s diagnosis. Then, relax.
Alexia held out the peach-that-wasn’t-a-peach. Peaches don’t usually glow. They definitely don’t bleed. But now that gold, gooey liquid was dripping down her fingers, thick as blood, and she went to lick it.
Keegan stopped her with his hand. “Don’t be greedy.”
Alexia glared. But the anger didn’t last, and soon that freaky Cheshire grin returned to her face. “He’s right,” she said to me. “One drop for each of us. That’s what they said.”
“You think I’m going to eat this?” I knocked the fruit from her hand. “You’re not eating it either.”
This time they exploded in laughter. I realized Alexia’s eyes weren’t the only ones that were liquid black. They all stared at me with those dilated eyes. Seeing things I couldn’t see.
“Holy shit. You guys are tripping.”
The laughter reached a fever pitch.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s not a drug, Taylor.” Kylie plucked a piece of fruit from a low-hanging branch. “It’s just to help you come out of shock. We all needed it.” Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “I kind of freaked out.”
“She started screaming,” Alexia said. “Her, of all people.”
“They weren’t supposed to be monsters.” Kylie frowned for about two seconds, and then she was mesmerized by the fruit again. “I just needed to calm down, and they helped with that.”
“They drugged you,” I said.
“No.” She giggled at her hand. “They made me feel happy. And you can feel happy too.”
“Oh my God. Seriously?”
Keegan knelt beside me, plucking the fruit from his sister’s hand. “The doctor’s in, Taylor.”
Kylie laughed so hard I thought she was going to fall out of her chair. But Alexia had other plans. She came up behind me and yanked my arm behind my back, piercing my finger with her nail. “It’s quicker if it goes directly into the bloodstream.”
“Fuck!” I wrestled free of her grip. “That hurt, you psychopathic—”
“It won’t in a minute.”
I crawled backward, away from her. I wasn’t about to let her put that poison in my veins. But I made a mistake. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I stuck my injured finger into my mouth.
Crap.
A few feet away, the group was laughing again. The whole thing had been a ploy to get me to suck on my finger. The finger she’d smeared with nectar.
“I hate you,” I mumbled as a wave of nausea hit me. If only I could stick my finger down my throat, I could get rid of most of the nectar. If only I wasn’t falling down a hole that had no bottom.
From the depths of the darkness, Alexia’s voice floated down. “You’ll love me soon enough. You’ll love all of us. And you’ll be able to see everything they’ve kept hidden.”
2
ElorA
I awoke to dizzying pain, though the reason did not occur to me right away. For one brief instant, I was blissfully ignorant of the source of my agony. I even entertained the fleeting fantasy that insects were feasting on my wings.
Perhaps some jokester had dripped honey over them.
That would explain the warm, wet sensation creeping down my back. Funny, the things the mind conjures to escape reality. Rising to my knees, I rustled my wings to shake the insects away.
Oh, Darkness.
Pain, searing and hot, shot through the length of my body. My limbs gave way under the weight of it. My heart constricted as if stabbed.
Please, let it have been a dream.
I opened my eyes. The Seelie Forest sprawled out before me, a reminder of where I was and where I had been. But Taylor was gone, and he’d taken my happiness, my sense of peace, and left only the memory of the trauma I’d endured. The battle in the graveyard. The blade …
No.
I reached behind my back.
Please, no.
I searched with my hands, my fingers clawing at the air.
They cannot be gone.
Sobs rose up from the deepest parts of me, unfurling in my gut and barreling up my throat. I tried to swallow them down, but who can swallow oceans? They swelled inside of me, pouring out my eyes, my lips, everything.
“Looking for these?”
I jerked my head up. In that moment, I felt more vulnerable than I ever had before. Unable to fly. Barely able to move. What would my people think of me when they saw what Naeve had done? What would Taylor think?
He’ll be disgusted. He’ll never want to look at me again.
But my mind changed as I lifted my gaze. My world changed. In the back of the clearing sat Lyndiria, the Queen of the Bright Faeries, and at her feet were wings.
My wings. “How … ”
“I presume the boy is responsible,” said Lyndiria, light pouring off of her in gales. It was difficult to see her clearly.
I closed my eyes, wary of being blinded. “Taylor brought them? He’s so—”
“Perfect?” she suggested.
A chill crept through me, like spiders hatching beneath my skin. But I had no time to think on it. Every cell in my body propelled me forward as I crawled on hands and knees to those black, tattered wings, those things that looked so much like home to me. And felt like home. And smelled of blood and earth.
What are faeries, if not blood and earth?
I cradled the wings in my arms. They were cold, encrusted in ice. Just above my head, snow fell softly on the wings, but only there. The Queen must have cast a spell to keep them cold.
“I am sorry for your loss,” she said as I studied her handiwork, my heart a frantic butterfly in my chest. There was only one reason I could think of to keep my wings in the snow. When blood freezes, it cannot escape.
I looked up at her. “Lady,” I murmured, “you don’t suppose … ”
“Certainly,” she said, and my heart rose like a wave. She rose, too, and that light bled away from her like rivulets into the sea. Now unburdened by her luminescence, I could see her more clearly: those curves, bound tightly in a gown of diaphanous green; that skin, warm and brown as the earth kissed by sunlight. She was larger than life, this great forest queen. And she had power I could not comprehend.
“Would you help me?” I asked. “I did everything you asked of me. I went to the mortal world, I found a boy who was a young leader of men. I brought him here—”
“I asked for the bane of the darkness,” Lyndiria scolded, the emerald strands of her hair darkening to red. “I asked for a boy who was perfect for light. We spoke of this last night—”
“I hardly remember last night,” I said, images of horror flashing through my mind. Here, Naeve tossed his sword into the air, letting it shatter on the ground. Here, he slid the iron shards into my back, one by one. “But I remember your riddle,” I added, reciting the Bright Queen’s riddle from memory:
“Bane of the darkness, perfect for light,
Steal him away in the dead of the night.
Bind him with blood, this young leader of men,
And bring him to Court before Light’s hallowed reign.”
The Queen had tucked that riddle into my palm and sent me off to the mortal world in search of an offering. If I could provide a proper offering, she would help me take down the Unseelie Court. She would bind the Dark Queen, I would rally the servants, and together we’d overthrow the nobles.
The Dark Court would fall.
Then, after the dust had settled, the Bright Queen would disband her court as well, so that all could be free. She’d promised she would, the last time I saw her. But now …
“I brought you a proper offering,” I insisted, scanning the bower for the boy I’d stolen on prom night. I saw no one except for th
e Queen. “Brad Dickson ruled his school with an iron fist, making him a young leader of men. He was cruel, which made him the bane of the darkness. And because he had a habit of harming his classmates, the human world would be better off without him, making him perfect for light.”
“You twisted the riddle to mean what you wanted. You brought me something sour instead of something sweet. I’ve already sent the boy—”
“I brought you exactly what you asked for,” I said, feeling desperate with my wings so close to me. If I didn’t convince the Bright Queen to help me soon, I would lose everything. My ability to fly. My revolution. All of my efforts would be for nothing. “If you wanted something sweet, you should’ve asked for something sweet.”
“I suppose that is the danger of riddles. And you have made quite the sacrifice,” the Bright Queen said, her gaze flickering to my wings. “But if I were to help you—”
“I will give you everything I promised. The Dark Court will fall. My mother will be ruined. You can finally be free.”
“Free?” she repeated, as if the word tasted funny in her mouth. “What makes you think I want to be free?”
“Because I know how it feels to be shackled by nobility.” I glanced down at my wrists, at the shadows that clung to me like jewelry. Like chains. “We are wild things who built up cages and called them castles. We have lashed ourselves to our thrones. But once upon a time … ”
“ … there were no queens, and no courts. I roamed the earth as I pleased.” The Bright Queen smiled, but it fell away quickly. “Then she came along and ruined everything.”
“The Dark Lady has a talent for that.”
“She wanted to destroy humanity, so I had to stand against her. I had to build my court to stop her court—”
“Yes, but not anymore. There will be no need for a Bright Court if we destroy the Dark Court.” I looked up, studying the flowers in her crown. Opalescent blossoms sat beside fat green leaves. But if you looked closely, you could see the places where thorns curved into her skin, keeping the garland in place. “Nobility comes at a cost. But you can be free.”
The Bright Queen peered down at me, her eyes sparkling as if ablaze. She looked hungry. “I will do as I promised,” she said. “I will bind the Dark Lady.”
“And?”
“If the Dark Court falls, I will relinquish my throne.” Her gaze dropped to my wings. “Now, give those to me.”
“Thank you, Lady. Thank you.” The tears had only just dried on my face, but already they were falling again. Those oceans were pouring out of me, drowning my sadness, giving life to hope. “Have you ever heard of such a thing? Of sewing a part of one’s body—”
“Never,” she said, “outside of the human world. But then, I’ve never heard of a faerie cutting away another’s wings. Certainly, I’ve never heard of one faerie using iron against another.”
I laughed a little, heavy under the weight of hope. “At least Naeve will have the remembrance he’s always wanted. And the adoration of his queen.”
Lyndiria was silent a long moment. I inched toward her, anxious to begin the ritual that might return my wings to me. Finally, when I reached the place where she sat, she took the wings from my hands and said, “I do not believe he will risk telling her the whole truth.”
“What do you mean?” I knelt at her feet, facing away from her. My body cringed at the thought of being touched now that I was so wounded. How would she heal me? Would she use needles or wind or webs? Would she use all of them?
“He tried to end your life.” The Bright Queen swept my hair over my shoulders, and her touch was soft. Motherly. Unlike anything I’d ever felt. “He broke the laws of Faerie, using iron against you. And on top of it all, you got away from him. Would you confess such shortcomings to the Queen of the Dark Faeries?”
“I would, but I don’t mind angering my mommy.”
She laughed. We both did. After all, we were conspiring to take away everything my mother cared about. Her court. Her crown. Her wretched, villainous smile.
“Now then.” Lyndiria leaned in, lips close to my ear. “I’ll just be needing the name of the faerie who will take your place.” The pads of her fingers trickled over my back, making my body scream.
“Take my place?” I managed between short breaths.
“In the battle against the Dark Court. Surely you didn’t think you’d be going yourself? You’ll be on the mend.”
“I’m on the mend now,” I said, growing angry. I was so close to regaining my wings, and still she was taunting me with the power she held over me. Teasing.
Wasn’t she?
“You do not understand,” said the Queen. “As things are now, the worst is behind you. My magic flushed out the iron in your veins. Together with the mortal’s love, it healed the worst of your wounds. But if you are to bond with something that has been torn away, your body will be in a constant state of healing. The process could take months. You will not be able to go about your usual activities. You will not be able to fight. You’ll have to rest.”
“No.”
“You’ll be incapacitated. The best you could do is sit in the trees surrounding the battle and act as defense, and even then, why risk it?”
“No, there has to be another way.” I could not lose this opportunity. Even now, I could feel the edges of my wings brushing against my back. I yearned to make them a part of me again.
“What if we wait until the battle is ended?” I asked. “I could return to you, and—”
“We could attempt it. But the places where they were cut away will have healed by then, and we’d have to open you up all over again.”
My body shuddered at the thought.
“The pain would be great,” she said, echoing my fears. “The first cut alone might—”
“I could suffer it.”
“I suppose you could,” she said, and her tone was kind. But there was something beneath it, satisfaction or hunger. I couldn’t quite place it. “Of course, the wings would not fit so nicely after all that. If we do it today, we might be able to slide them right back into place. Sew them together with wind and webs. Fill you up with light again, to lessen the pain. I cannot promise your body will respond to the ritual, but there is a much greater chance now than there will be then.”
“And there is no chance I would be able to fight? You are certain of that?”
“Naeve nearly bested you the last time. What do you think will happen when so much of your strength is dedicated to healing these wings?”
My wings. The greatest part of me. My freedom, my identity. How could I say goodbye when I didn’t have to? But how could I ask my people to fight if I were not brave enough to stand alongside them?
“Please … I need some time.”
“Do make your decision quickly,” the Queen said. “I’ve places to be, and people to govern.”
“Yes, Lady.”
She rose. My back remained to her, but I could hear her movements. Before she left the clearing, she set the wings in my lap. Then, transforming into her favorite form, a great black-eyed doe, she scampered toward the trees.
I clutched the wings to my chest and sobbed.
3
TayloR
I’d never taken drugs before. It wasn’t that I was a kiss-ass or anything, though I knew to stay away from the hard stuff. Anything you snort or inject could stay the hell away from me. But the natural stuff, the stuff that grows in the forest, well … I’d thought about it.
The sad truth was, I’d never had anyone to experiment with. I wasn’t about to try drugs alone. How sad would that have been, tripping in my bedroom above my parents’ garage, the place where I’d been serving the self-imposed sentence for my brother’s death? One look out the window and I would’ve seen the tree I’d stupidly let him climb, knowing full well it was dangerous for a little kid to be up so high. What if
my drug-addled mind got stuck on that thought and I saw him falling all over again? I would’ve lost it completely, torn my room apart.
I would’ve gone insane.
But this was different. I was with my friends, and though they’d essentially dosed me, there was nothing I could do about it now. And since I was suddenly incapable of feeling anger, or shame, I settled in with the three of them and watched the world unfold before me. Not the world I’d known, the human world.
The real world.
The first thing to change was the air. Had the air always been so alive? Had there always been little beings there, beings of color and light dancing just outside the corners of my eyes? Even the shadows moved, where I could find them: in little patches underneath the leaves, and under my body. Creatures were everywhere, saturating the air, changing shape as I reached out to touch them.
That, too, was amazing. Rainbows of light followed my hand, the way a trail of light follows a shooting star. I could hear my friends laughing around me, looking at my movements too, but nothing could hold our attention for long. Soon we were moving around, shifting the dirt with our fingers, approaching the trees.
We wanted to touch everything.
There were things living in the dirt, but it wasn’t that simple. The entire ground was breathing, in and out; I could feel it. I pressed my hand against the dirt—something I’d done at my brother’s grave a hundred times—and the ground pushed back, greeting me. To my left, on the edge of the clearing, Kylie was reaching up and checking which leaf was a leaf and which was a faerie. Half the leaves touched by her fingers curled back to reveal some green-winged thing, and others scurried away like animals. Everything was something other than what it seemed, and everything was alive. Rocks rose on little legs and hobbled past us. The wind sang in our ears, beckoning us the way sirens beckoned men into the ocean.
The Last Faerie Queen Page 2