Revelation

by Rye Brewer

  The man with the white hair and commanding voice led Anissa from the room. She looked back at me just once, a sort of wide-eyed look which told me she wasn’t sure what was about to happen. That made two of us.

  This left me alone. No, not alone. There was one more person in that small, cramped little space.

  I looked at the oil lamps burning around me and wondered who’d lit them. Her?

  Once my eyes adjusted, what they registered across the room was enough to take my breath away. Had I been confused before about how I’d wound up on that little makeshift bed with its thick, soft blankets and deep cushions? Had I been concerned with anything other than the vision of pure loveliness that looked at me with large, clear, caring eyes?

  She, like the man who’d led my sister away, had white hair. Like Anissa’s, too. Only her hair flowed to her waist, woven into an intricate braid which glowed even in the near darkness. Her skin reminded me of cream, and was so pure and perfect I was certain for a moment that I was imagining things. Or dreaming. Perhaps I had a fever, and she was nothing more than a hallucination.

  “What…” I cleared my throat, my voice raspy and weak. “What happened to me?”

  She frowned—an expression which did nothing to lessen her beauty. “You don’t remember?”

  I thought back, but thinking made my head throb. There was no specific location to the pain, nothing to give the impression that I’d suffered a head injury, but the pain was there nonetheless. Even so, I tried. “I was… in a meeting?” I asked, glancing at her.

  “You were at a meeting of the League of Vampires,” she confirmed.

  And with that, it all came back in a rush which almost knocked me onto my back. Yes. The meeting, the spiritwalkers. I’d felt my strength, my very consciousness, draining away as I controlled two of them at once. I’d never attempted anything of the sort before, and for good reason. What happened to me was hardly a surprise. Even so, I’d done everything within my power to help my sister.

  My tongue darted over my parched lips. “And who are you?” I had to know.

  There were so many other questions, many other concerns. How would I get home? Was I strong enough to get there? I didn’t know if opening a portal to ShadesRealm was possible from Avellane, which was where I assumed we were at that moment. With my consciousness somewhat more intact, I pieced together that the white-haired man was Anissa’s father and we really were in the fae kingdom.

  When would I get the chance to feed again?

  Her smile was radiant. It nearly lit up the room. “My name is Felicity.”

  Naturally. A name befitting someone as lovely as she. This was entirely new to me, feeling so taken in by a woman so immediately on meeting her. Feeling taken in at all. Romance had never been something to cross my mind, or even baser notions such as lust.

  My life had been one of near-solitude, almost monastic in its stringency. I’d never so much as entertained the idea of being with a woman. What woman would want me? A hybrid, a nobody. Always on the outside.

  “Felicity,” I repeated.

  Funny how she lit up parts of my brain which hadn’t been used for as long as I could recall. The weight of her gaze on me, with its care and its warmth, caused me to question everything I’d ever assumed about myself and my relationship with the rest of the world—or worlds, as it were. “And I’m in Avellane, correct?”

  Her eyes flew open wide. “How did you know?”

  “I deduced it. What stuns me is the fact that I was permitted to breach the barrier—I thought only the fae were permitted through the entrance.”

  “Anissa has her ways—as do I,” she added with a slight, self-deprecating shrug.

  I looked around again. The room was plainly decorated, in spite of the comfort in which I rested, and the window cut into what looked like the marble which composed the outer wall allowed me to look out over green, lush fields and a veritable forest of tall, thick trees in the distance. “Where are we, exactly? What is this building called?”

  “The Hermitage,” she replied. “It’s the most private place I could think of.”

  “You thought well,” I offered. I would say anything if it meant seeing the look of pleasure settle over her face at the assurance she’d done a good job.

  “And your name?” she asked, seemingly out of nowhere. It seemed strange that my sister hadn’t shared my name when she arranged for my care, but it could’ve been a conscious choice. Something intended to keep my presence a secret.

  “Allonic.”

  “Allonic,” she repeated, and she made it sound like music. Almost an enchantment. I felt myself sinking into her, deeper and deeper. What was she doing to me? Was this a result of what had happened back at League headquarters? Or perhaps the aftereffects of whatever treatment Felicity had used to treat me? I would’ve sworn I was under the influence of something.

  “You’re a shade, ” she nearly whispered, like she was afraid to make such a bold statement though it was clearly true. Her cheeks colored slightly pink, as though she were shy. It only made her all the more charming to me.

  “I am,” I confirmed with a slow smile.

  “You’re the first shade I’ve ever seen.”

  And she was the first women I’d ever seen and experienced such deep stirrings toward, so I assumed we were even on some level. I resisted the impulse to ask her what she thought of me. Since when did impulses even surface in me?

  “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked, and I noticed the way she clasped her hands. Tight, almost urgent. She wanted to be a help, was anxious to be one. That touched me, too. Deeply.

  I was thirsty and could’ve used a little assistance in strengthening myself. “No, thank you.” It wasn’t as though I could stay for very long, no matter how much I wanted to. And I did. Very much.

  I sat up, taking my time, gauging my abilities. I felt worn out, like a rag which had been wrung dry, but I could sit up without my head spinning. That was a step. I watched with deep curiosity as Felicity moved about the room, stacking small bowls and pitchers.

  She needed something to do, and I needed an excuse to observe her. She moved with grace I would’ve sworn was practiced if she’d possessed so much as a scrap of affectation. Everything about her was natural, as graceful as a swan taking flight or a babbling brook flowing over stones the water had worn smooth over time.

  I imagined her on my arm,. On the one hand, the vision was a beautiful one, one which I wouldn’t want to leave unless I had to and would revisit repeatedly due to the warmth it spread through my body. Even the tips of my toes tingled. Felicity with me.

  On the other hand, I was well aware of there being no chance of such a dream coming true. Not if I intended to rule ShadesRealm, as was my denied birthright. The only goal I had ever nursed, one which I’d held close to my heart throughout my years of living just at the edges of the rest of my kind. I wouldn’t even be permitted to bring her to ShadesRealm with me. It was one thing for my mother to be there—my father had hidden her well, and even so, it had been a matter of life-or-death for her. Who with even a shred of decency would’ve turned her away? And he was respected, which I was not.

  Felicity passed in front of the window, and a beam of moonlight seemed to shine directly on her hair—or her hair had generated the beam and shot it out the window. I wasn’t sure which.

  Her braid went silvery-white, and I was nearly consumed by the impulse to reach out and touch it. As though I wanted to be sure it was real. A cool breeze blew in and stirred the fine, loose hairs around her temples, and I caught a passing whiff of some scent that was uniquely her. I could easily lose myself in her. I could find another dream to live for, if it meant living with her.

  No, no, I couldn’t let my thoughts stray in that direction. I turned my face away from her. I couldn’t think straight when she fell under my gaze. If I wasn’t careful, she’d make me give up everything I’d ever held dear.

  Even so, I knew the memory of her hair and those
wide, frank, warm, silver eyes would haunt me for the rest of my days.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she murmured. “I was worried about you being unconscious as long as you were.”

  “How long was I out?”

  “More than a day.”

  I had missed an entire day, even more. What a disconcerting notion. Life had gone on without me.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I took a chance and turned back to her. I was risking quite a lot by doing it, since there was no thinking clearly when the sight of her intoxicated me the way it did. Her cheeks were pink again, signaling that she was about to ask something she felt shy for even voicing. I wanted to make it easier on her.

  “Of course. Anything you want.”

  “Are you really part vampire?”

  I almost asked what gave her that idea, then remembered the embarrassing slip I’d made on waking. My fangs. Had they frightened her? She didn’t look frightened of me.

  “I am,” I replied, hoping it made little difference and wondering why I cared so much whether or not it did. She was no good for me. There could never be a future between us. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder.

  If the truth of my lineage disturbed her, she gave no indication.

  “And what happened to make you lose consciousness? I, eh, examined you as much as I dared,” she breathed, looking away as the color in her cheeks deepened, “but I found no wound. Nothing to indicate what had happened to bring you to that state.”

  I couldn’t tell her that. There was no way to explain it that wouldn’t implicate all of us and reveal much more than I could comfortably share. On top of that was the way her question brought back the circumstances surrounding my incident and the fact that I had no idea how things had turned out.

  Instead of being honest—which I wanted to, I wanted to share everything with her—I replied, “I should go. There’s much unfinished business for me to take care of, back in the human world.”

  16

  Felicity

  I wished I knew what to make of him. I wished he didn’t turn me into a flustered, clumsy fool. Clumsy in my actions, clumsy in my words. Asking clumsy questions. He was right not to answer when I asked how he’d come to fall unconscious. It was no business of mine.

  But ever since I had him alone, when they had delivered him to the little room and left me there to tend to him, he’d enraptured me. Even though he’d been unconscious, even though there was no chance of conversation or even the slightest semblance of our getting to know each other, I’d felt a connection that was deep. Immediate. Unwavering.

  That was before he’d even opened his remarkable eyes. I’d examined every inch of his face, tracing with gentle fingertips the curves and planes so different from those of my kind. I had never seen anyone like him, with his dark, soft skin, his strong features. The smooth-shaved head, so perfect and unblemished. His deep voice, murmuring words I couldn’t understand as he traveled through unconsciousness, words in a language foreign to my ears.

  I didn’t need to understand. It was like I’d been deaf my entire life and had suddenly heard my first sound. Everything opened up to me in those hours, an entire side of life which I’d been unaware I was even missing out on. A beauty I had never known existed until he appeared. A beauty which scared me, left me shaking, and awed before it. I’d never felt this way before and wondered if others managed to survive it. If so, I had no idea how they managed, because I was sure he would crush me under the weight of his perfection.

  That was before I saw his eyes. Once they were open—golden and blazing and completely unlike mine or anybody else’s—I was lost for good. Under his spell.

  And he was leaving. I must have pushed too hard. I wanted to grab him, hold him, cling to his dark cloak and beg him not to leave me. He couldn’t show me everything I’d missed for so long and then leave me like it meant nothing. I had so many questions, so many unspoken thoughts and feelings that I’d never shared with anyone but felt an all-consuming desire to share with him.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather wait for Anissa?” I asked when he stood, brushing his hands over his cloak as if to straighten himself out before going. “She’ll be concerned if she comes back and finds you gone.”

  His chuckle was deep, a rumble in his chest. “I think she’ll be all right. We’ll run into one another again. She has a tendency to come and go, seemingly with no game-plan. Likely because she never has one.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the affection in his voice. Who were they to each other? She obviously cared for him, or else she wouldn’t have begged me to take him under my protection. But why? What was their relationship? I wished I’d had the chance to ask, though it wasn’t my normal style of interacting with others. I didn’t ask questions about things that were none of my business. It seemed as though Allonic had changed me without so much as lifting a finger.

  “Besides,” Allonic added, going to the door, “I’m in a bit of a hurry. I can’t wait for Anissa to return.”

  “I understand—but, please, don’t think you can merely walk out of here and find your way back so easily. I’ll go with you—there’s a route back to the entrance which takes you through a densely-populated region, and one which skirts that area. You’ll be safer if we take that route.”

  “Lead the way,” he smiled. I wished I didn’t have to. I was leading him away from me. But allowing him to be discovered would be far worse.

  When we were outside, he took several deep breaths. “The air is so much sweeter here than in the human world. Even the realm which I call home.”

  “It’s all the plant life,” I explained, gesturing around us. Every surface that could be covered in either moss, grass or vines was. Along with that were the flowers, the trees, and shrubs. It was easy to overlook the beauty all around me when I’d seen it every day for decades. Seeing it through Allonic’s eyes was a gift. Even the scent of our night blooming jasmine was stronger, sweeter.

  “This is magnificent,” he marveled, glancing over his shoulder every now and then to take in the sight of the Hermitage. Even I couldn’t take that for granted. It was dazzling and would be for as long as it stood.

  “It is. We’re fortunate to live in such a beautiful place,” I agreed.

  “You’ve lived here all your life?”

  “All of my life,” I repeated.

  And there was little chance of ever leaving. I’d never considered it before that very moment—and if I had before now, the thought surely wouldn’t have filled me with disappointment, as it did when I led Allonic through the overgrown field with its tall, wild shrubbery which sat far outside the thickest of the clusters of trees.

  I heard voices floating on the evening air, happy ones. The doors and windows carved into the far-off trunks gave off a glow, indicating cooking fires and lit torches. Lanterns hung here and there along the bridges to light the way for those who traveled over them. Looking at all of it through fresh eyes, the mystical beauty took my breath away.

  “It’s a wonder any of you get anything done, with all of this around you,” Allonic murmured as he trailed behind me. His footfalls were heavy and uncertain through the knee-high grass—I had to remind myself to take my time for his sake. “I would lose myself in it every day, no matter how I tried.”

  “It would grow commonplace before long,” I reminded him. “And some of us have quite a lot of work to do.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you had nothing better to do than to admire the trees,” he said with what sounded like a chuckle.

  “I’m sure you didn’t.” I wondered if he would ask what I did with my time—I felt the question hanging between us—and asked myself what my response would be if he did.

  What would he think if he knew I was trained by a mage? It was only that concern which kept me from asking what he did in his world.

  Who was he? How did he spend his days? What did he think about and dream of? It all seemed so silly. He was obviously a
serious man. I doubted he took much time to dream.

  “You see, I’ve spent my life living in a cave for the most part. A series of caves and tunnels,” he admitted. “It’s how all shades live.”

  “You never get to see the sun?” I asked, looking over my shoulder in surprise. I couldn’t imagine such a thing. We needed the sun like we needed water and air.

  “Oh, certainly—that is, when I travel to the mouth of the cave and look out over the woods which surround the mountain. You know how dangerous the sun’s rays can be for one with vampire blood,” he explained.

  “Our sun doesn’t have that effect,” I said, eager.

  “It doesn’t?”

  “No—it’s unique to our land.”

  “Indeed.” His voice went soft with wonder. “How it must feel, the sun’s rays hitting one’s skin. Warming it. It must be wonderful.”

  And I wanted him to feel that. I wanted to promise he’d experience it if he’d only come back. He had to come back.

  The entrance was coming closer with every step. I could feel its energy and the presence of it sunk my heart like a boulder was chained to it. He’d be gone soon, out of my life. How could someone whose existence had been unknown to me fewer than two days earlier matter so much?

  “I suppose this is it,” I said when we reached the entrance, smack dab in the middle of everything.

  The energy inside it swirled and shimmered, though I could make out the trees on the other side. Like looking through a smudged piece of glass. Otherwise, there was nothing special about it to denote its presence.

  “Fascinating,” he murmured as he examined the entrance to the human world. Everything was a learning experience for him.

  I told myself he thought of me the same way. Something new, something interesting. Something to be mildly curious about and file away with other dusty information. He’d lived in a cave, after all. He was only taking in all the new things around him, including me.