Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles: Multi-Author Bundle of Novels & Novellas

by Rachel Morgan

  We reach the main foyer, and Tank opens the entrance for us. I jump down the stairs into the dark forest night. Nate follows. “Okay,” I say as I begin to walk. “We can spend the rest of the night at my house and leave as soon as it gets light. It’s usually safer to travel here during the day.” And I need to feed Filigree and let him know I won’t be around for a few days.

  “Sure. Where exactly is ‘here’ anyway?”

  “Um . . .” What harm can it do to tell him? “We’re in a forest humans can’t get to from the outside. It’s called Creepy Hollow.”

  “Creepy Hollow?” He snorts. “Like Sleepy Hollow?”

  “No, like Creepy Hollow. It has nothing to do with sleeping.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” I could be mistaken, but I think he just rolled his eyes at me. “What I mean is, it sounds like the legend.”

  “And what I mean is, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” How dare he roll his eyes at me?

  “Never mind,” he says with a sigh. “Okay, so why would you want to live in a place filled with creepy things?”

  “I’m training to be a guardian. If there were no creepy beings around I’d have no job.”

  “Right.” It looks like Nate’s trying to work out whether that makes sense. “So what constitutes creepy aside from half-naked, scaly-skinned women?”

  “Oh, just about any kind of fae. Boggarts, goblins, spriggans, kelpies, halflings—”

  “No way! Hobbits are real?” Nate’s eyes light up.

  “Hobbits?”

  “Yeah, hobbits. Halflings. Small . . . hairy feet . . . live in the Shire . . .”

  Where does he get this stuff from? “Nope. Sorry.” I flick a glow-bug off my shoulder. “A halfling is a half-breed. Like a half-goblin, half-pixie. Or a half-faerie, half-human.”

  “Oh. That’s not very exciting.”

  “It is when they try to destroy the world.” Nate arches a disbelieving eyebrow. “Yup,” I say with a nod. “Halflings are unpredictable that way.”

  “Unpredictable . . . Oh. My parents. They’ll worry when they find out I’m gone.”

  “Tora will send someone to take care of that,” I say. “Your parents will think you’re staying with friends or something. And mind the web.” I tug him sideways before he can walk straight into a nearly invisible web strung between two trees.

  “Thanks.” He gives the poisonous strands a wide berth. “So, um, will your parents mind me staying over?” he asks.

  “I don’t have parents.”

  He frowns. “Wait a minute. So this really is like Peter Pan then? A baby laughs and a faerie is born?”

  I roll my eyes. Is he going to take everything I say literally? “I had parents, they’re just not around anymore. They were guardians, and they were both killed on assignment. My mother died when I was three, and my father when I was fourteen.”

  “Oh.” Nate runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

  I shrug. “All guardian children grow up knowing death is a very real possibility.” That doesn’t stop it from hurting like hell when it happens, though.

  “So why would you want to do it?” asks Nate.

  “Do what? Be a guardian?” He nods. Hmm. This is my chance to say something noble, like how I want to save people’s lives. And that is part of it, but if I’m going to be completely honest . . . “I love the life. I love the thrill, the risk, the energy. I love how alive I feel when I’m fighting, or even just training. It doesn’t matter what it is—weapons practice, close combat, sprinting, swinging around bars, practicing flips and somersaults—I love it all.”

  Nate stops walking and stares at me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You can do all that?”

  “Well, it’s not like I just made that all up. And, like I told you before, I want to be the best.”

  Apparently Nate can’t think of anything to say to that, so after a few more seconds of staring, we keep walking. We should be moving faster—it isn’t good to linger outside at night—but I find that I’m not in as much of a hurry as I thought I was. In fact, I think I’m almost enjoying talking to Nate.

  We come to a stream that snakes between the trees. We could jump to the other side if we had to, but the forest has created a way across: Roots like gnarled fingers reach from both sides of the stream, twisting and tangling with one another, interweaving to form an uneven bridge. Wary of what may be lurking in the dark water, I grasp Nate’s hand and pull him quickly across, dropping his hand the moment we reach the other side. We continue our journey between the trees, and I wait for Nate to fill the silence between us.

  It doesn’t take long. “I’m also graduating school soon,” he says, “and hoping to do well. So I sort of understand the pressure you can be under toward the end.”

  “Yeah, falling asleep over an algebra textbook must be really tough on you,” I say, regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

  Nate stops and turns to face me. “Look, I know it’s my fault you’re in trouble, so perhaps you could just let me apologize and we can—” He looks over my shoulder, his eyebrows pulling together. “What’s—”

  *

  Head throbbing . . . Eyelids heavy . . . Can’t wake up . . .

  *

  There’s a hard surface beneath my cheek. The forest smell is gone. I try to open my eyes but it’s as though someone placed weights on them. My thoughts drag like leaden feet through mud, but slowly, ever so slowly, the wheels in my brain begin to turn. I recognize this feeling. It’s the same way I felt after Ryn hit me in the back with a stunner spell during training last year. I was unconscious for several hours, which was more than a little embarrassing. Worth it, though, when Ryn got suspended for a few days.

  I force my eyelids apart and bite down on my lip, hoping the pain will wake me. It doesn’t work as well as I’d hoped. I see Nate on the floor beside me. As if in slow motion, I watch his leg fly out and kick someone standing between us. There’s a grunt, people struggling, and that’s all it takes to jolt me awake. I jump to my feet. My bow and arrow appear in my hands, pointing directly at our attacker’s forehead. He pulls Nate in front of him and presses his talon-like nails against Nate’s throat.

  We all freeze.

  The young man is a faerie—probably the one responsible for the stunner spell. Even if I couldn’t feel the magic emanating from him, there’s the crimson that streaks through his hair and stains his eyes like fresh blood. Definitely not a human characteristic. Without lowering my weapon, I take note of my surroundings. We’re in . . . a cabin? A shed? Floorboards creak beneath our feet. A glass orb filled with bright white vapors swings from the ceiling, causing shadows to sway across the walls. A dusty window above the faerie’s head reveals darkness outside.

  I wait for the faerie to make a move, but he simply stands there watching me, like we’re locked in a weird staring contest. Eventually I get tired of waiting. “Can we hurry up and get to the part where you try to kill us? I’d like to get home soon.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Why would I want to kill the boy? We only just found him. You on the other hand . . .”

  “There’ll be no killing just yet, Zell,” says a man behind me. Before I can move, he snaps a piece of metal against my arm. The metal wraps itself around my wrist, above my tracker band. My bow and arrow vanish with a sizzle. I clutch my stinging wrist to my chest.

  “That’s right,” says the man, moving into view. He has no power—definitely human—but his size is enough to fill the room. “Try using magic with that thing on.” He pulls Nate out of Zell’s grip and pushes him into a chair.

  “You don’t want me to get rid of this one, Drake?” I feel Zell’s arm encircle my neck.

  “No, she’s a guardian, isn’t she?”

  “A guardian trainee,” says Zell. He’s obviously noticed the absence of guardian markings on my wrists.

  “Whatever. Maybe she knows about the other one.”

  “Right. The guard
ian with the special talents.” Zell grabs my wrists, pushes me onto the floor, and ties my arms to a pipe that runs along the wall above me. Special talents? Who are they talking about? I think of my own special ability and grow cold inside. I hope they don’t know what I can do.

  “Now,” Drake says, standing in front of Nate, legs astride and hands on hips. “We need to have a little chat with your mother, but she keeps refusing to see us.”

  Nate looks him up and down. “I can’t imagine why.”

  This comment earns him a slap across the face. “Think you’re smart?” Drake growls.

  Nate recovers with a shake of his head. “Not really. I’m barely passing chemistry.”

  I’m impressed. Turns out this boy’s got more guts than I gave him credit for. Drake grabs Nate around the neck and speaks right into his face. “Where. Is. Your. Mother?”

  Nate turns his head to the side. “Look, my mom and dad are really happy together, so I think you need to back off and find yourself another—”

  “Not your step-mother, idiot,” roars Drake. “Your real mother.” He shoves Nate away and crosses to the other side of the room.

  “If you’re talking about the woman who gave birth to me, she disappeared when I was five months old. I only have one real mother, and she’s probably at home in bed right now.”

  “That’s very sweet,” Drake says, his voice dangerously low, “but not the answer I’m looking for.” He nods at Zell. “We’re going ahead with the original plan.” He storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  “What’s the original plan?” Nate asks Zell.

  “You get to be bait,” Zell says, depositing Nate on the floor and tying his wrists and ankles. “We threaten to kill you, and mommy comes running.” He stares at Nate, then gets down on one knee. “So ordinary,” he says, running a finger down Nate’s cheek. “Such a pity.” He gets up and goes to the door. “Don’t think about squirming anywhere, Nathaniel. I’ll be right outside.”

  I breathe a little easier once we’re alone in the room. The first thing I do is attempt to release some magic. Nothing. Not even a spark. I try not to panic. “This is all very strange,” I whisper to Nate.

  “Tell me about it,” he says. “I’m starting to get that feeling again that this is a dream.”

  I make an irritated noise in the back of my throat. “No, Nate, this is not a dream. And it’s strange because of you.”

  “Me? What did I do now?”

  “I’ve been on a lot of assignments,” I say, “and when fae end up attacking humans it’s not usually because they plan to. Sure, you get the odd prankster fae who are intentionally trying to cause mischief, like goblins or pixies, but it’s usually some creature that ended up in the wrong place at dinner time, or accidentally wound up in a human home, got a fright, and felt the need to protect itself.”

  “Got a fright?”

  “Yes. Creepy creatures get scared too. Anyway, the really evil fae don’t generally go after humans—their issues are typically with other fae, and that’s a job for fully qualified guardians. But that reptiscilla definitely arrived in your room tonight with the intent to kill you, mumbling some rubbish about something ‘happening already’. And now, only a few hours later, someone else is after you.”

  Nate lifts his shoulders. “What can I say? Everyone wants a piece of me.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Nate. You really will be in pieces if we don’t take this seriously.”

  “Oh, come on. These guys don’t want to kill me. They just want to use me as bait to lure my child-abandoner mother out of hiding.”

  I sigh. Clearly the only way we’re getting out of here is if I do something about it.

  “What do you think these creeps want with her anyway?” asks Nate.

  “How should I know? It could be anything.”

  “I guess. Well, whatever it is, I’m not interested. My mother chose to leave us, and I don’t really care what she’s got herself involved in.”

  Yeah, right. I’m not about to buy that after his incessant questioning earlier. But I have more important things to worry about right now. I lift my leg up to see if I can get my boot close enough to my hands. No good. My hands are too high up. I’m just not that flexible.

  “This is kind of entertaining,” says Nate, watching me from the floor.

  “Shut up,” I hiss at him, then feel guilty. “I’m sorry.” I lower my voice even more. “I need your help.”

  “The Great Guardian Violet needs my—”

  “Nate.”

  “Sorry. What do you need me to do?”

  I speak as quietly as I can. “There’s a compartment in the sole of my right boot. Inside it is a knife.”

  Nate starts to wriggle across the floor toward me.

  “Quietly,” I remind him. “Don’t let them hear you.”

  He stops when he’s close enough to reach my foot with his hands. “Okay, how do I get it—oh, never mind, got it open.” The knife tumbles out onto the floor.

  “Quiet!”

  “Sorry,” Nate whispers. He sits up and looks at the items in his hand. “Uh, why do you have a pair of earrings in your boot?”

  There’s the tiniest tug at my heart as I look at the arrow-shaped earrings in Nate’s palm. “Oh, they were a gift from a friend.”

  “And you keep them in your boot in case of a fashion emergency while out on assignment?”

  “I keep them in my boot because they were the last gift he gave me before he died.”

  “Oh.” There’s enough light in the cabin for me to make out the color that fills Nate’s cheeks. “Uh, I’m sorry.”

  I sigh. “We were both still little—Reed was eleven and I was nine—but we had these great dreams about being guardians one day, fighting evil together and making the world a safer place.” I can see Reed teaching me how to use a bow and arrow for the first time. I can almost smell the freshness of the earth on that spring morning. “He never even got to start training,” I say quietly. “I know it’s silly, but I keep the earrings with me because then it sort of feels like Reed’s nearby.”

  “Okay.” Nate nods as though he understands. “So why don’t you just wear them then? I’m sure they’d look prettier in your ears than in the sole of your shoe.”

  Now that I don’t feel like explaining. “Can you put them back, please?”

  Nate lies down and reaches to return the earrings. I feel him close the compartment. “Forgive me for saying this,” he says, “but as a member of a near-immortal race, it seems you know a lot of people who’ve died young.”

  “Nowhere near immortal,” I remind him, “and it’s kind of an occupational hazard in our line of work. Reed’s death never should have happened though; that was just a horrible accident.”

  Nate grasps the knife between his palms. “So what do you want me to do with this?”

  Do I really have to spell it out for him? “I don’t care where you start, Nate—your wrists, your ankles, my ankles—but the aim is to get us out of here.”

  “Okay, okay, I get it.” He sits up, holds the knife in one hand, and begins to move it awkwardly back and forth across the rope that binds his wrists. And then he drops it.

  The knife clatters onto the wooden floor. A second later the door swings open. Zell glares at us and bends to pick up the knife. He shakes his head as he leaves the room, muttering, “Pathetic.”

  I consider screaming something like why did you have to drop the damn knife? But I decide it’s not worth it. I slump against the wall. I’m tired and in pain and beginning to lose feeling in my fingertips. And I’m worried about how Filigree will fend for himself if I don’t make it home; his supply of roasted nixles won’t last more than a few days.

  “I’m sorry,” Nate whispers eventually.

  “For what exactly?” I ask. It seems to me he has a lot of things to be sorry for tonight.

  “For landing you in trouble with your Guild. For getting you kidnapped. For messing up your escape plan.”
/>
  “It wasn’t much of a plan,” I admit.

  He lies down. I wish I could do the same. “And just so you know,” he adds, “I am actually taking this all seriously. It’s just . . . I usually deal with stress by making light of it. So it’s not that I think this is all one big joke, I’m just . . .”

  “Dealing with it,” I fill in for him.

  “Yeah.” He lapses into silence, then asks, “How long before someone discovers you’re missing?”

  I shift my legs beneath me, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Depends how much time goes by before Tora tries to contact me.”

  “And do you have, like, faerie police or something who will come looking for you?”

  “Yes. They’re called guardians.”

  “Okay. So guardians are like the police.” I imagine tiny cogs turning in Nate’s brain. “Then is the Guild like the government?”

  “Well, not exactly. There’s the Seelie Court, which has a queen. So the Seelie Queen and the Guild Council work together to determine the Law.”

  “Seelie Court,” murmurs Nate. “Sounds familiar. Was it in a computer game?”

  “Do I look like someone who plays computer games?”

  A grin stretches across Nate’s face. “You look like someone who could be in a computer game.”

  Having never paid much attention to computers, I’m not sure whether to be offended or not. I decide to ignore the comment. “The Seelie Court are the good guys,” I explain. “The Unseelie Court are the bad guys.”

  Nate nods. “Right. Got it.” I wonder what will happen in his brain when I give him the potion. Will this knowledge be magically covered up? Or will it be erased completely, like wiping a message off my amber?

  “Vi,” he says after a few moments of silence. “Will you still graduate? I mean, if we get out of here alive.”

  “Yes, I think so. I just won’t be top of my class.”

  “So? Is it really that important to be the best?”

  I shrug—a movement that’s somewhat awkward with my arms tied above my head. “This is all I have. It’s my whole life.” Which is the truth, despite the fact that it’s not the whole truth. There isn’t a single person—not even Tora—who knows why I want that top position so badly, and I’d like to keep it that way.