by Alison Pensy
“Faedra. Faedra come back to me.”
Faedra could hear the soft anxious voice calling to her from a distance but she was rooted to the spot, powerless to move. She was still in the churchyard, on the gravel path that ran behind the church. But from her perspective, it was twelve years prior.
Bound by nothing physical, she watched as the redcaps beat her mother mercilessly, right before her eyes. No matter what direction she turned her head the image was still there, as if it were attached to her viewpoint. Try as she might, her eyes would not close off the horror she was being subjected to.
She forced back the overwhelming need to cry with every fiber of her being at the scene of violence being replayed to her. She set her jaw and features in an emotionless expression. Faedra knew who was doing this to her. She had recognized the cold heartless cackle that seemed to resonate just a few inches from her ear, and she’d be damned if she was about to show any weakness to the evil that she thwarted just a few months earlier within an ancient stone circle.
“She is not responding, Jocelyn. What do I do?” Faen looked up at his sister with desperation in his eyes.
“She will not be able to break free from the torture until whoever it is decides to let her go,” Jocelyn responded.
She knew it was not what her brother wanted to hear, but he knew as well as she did, that this kind of magic was far beyond anything either of them had the power to block.
Jocelyn looked down at her brother with sympathy. He was sitting on the ground holding Faedra’s lifeless body in his arms in the exact place where she had dropped to the floor like a stone. It wasn’t the first time this had happened in the past few months since their battle at Stonehenge, and Jocelyn doubted it would be the last. But it only seemed to occur when her friend entered the graveyard behind the church, where the portal to Azran was located. This was where Faedra’s mother had been attacked, causing her death, and also where her body had been laid to rest. Maybe Faedra’s strong emotional tie to this place gave the perpetrator the power she needed for this kind of magic.
It made Jocelyn sad to see her friend tortured in this way, but she knew it was breaking her brother’s heart having to watch it and having no power to stop it.
Faen looked from his sister back down to Faedra who was lying limp in his arms, and he felt helpless. The only way he was sure she was still alive was because of the angry set to her features and the racing heartbeat he could feel beneath his hand. It was silent proof of the pain she was being subjected to, wherever the petite redhead’s consciousness had been taken to.
Faen’s face flushed with anger as he looked up again at his sibling, who was still stooped over the pair with an anxious expression on her face. Jocelyn felt just as helpless as her brother did.
“This has to stop,” the Guardian growled. “I have to stop this, NOW!” He looked further up ahead along the gravel pathway that ran behind the church. He had an idea.
“Jocelyn, open the portal,” he commanded.
His sister drew her eyebrows together, confused at his request.
“But…” she replied.
“Now, Jocelyn!” Faen barked the command, making his little sister flinch at his words. She had not seen him this anguished before. He certainly had never raised his voice at her before this moment. Straightening up she spun round, her black and white locks splaying around her head with the movement. The younger fairy reached the portal within a few hurried strides. Standing in the middle of the pathway, nothing but thin air in front of her, she reached out a hand, holding her palm up as though she were pressing it up against an invisible wall. A mumbled incantation and the portal opened. Jocelyn stepped aside.
“It’s open.”
“I will stop this,” Faen whispered to Faedra as he placed an arm under his unconscious ward’s knees and another under her shoulders, scooping her off the ground with no more effort than if he were picking up a piece of fluff from the floor. He adjusted his arms so that Faedra’s head slumped against his shoulder and didn’t hang down awkwardly behind her.
“Where are you going to take her?” Jocelyn asked, as Faen strode up to the open gateway to their world. The Land of Azran was just a couple more steps in front of him.
“Todmus.” The name was stated with purpose a split second before he walked -- carrying the person he loved most in all worlds through the portal – and they disappeared from the World of Men.
“Hold on, wait for me,” Jocelyn said, making a cursory glance around her before stepping forward and following her brother through the portal, leaving the gravel path empty once more.
The sun shone bright and cheerful as they stepped into Azran, forcing Faen and Jocelyn to squint against the brightness. It was dusk where they had just left, and all of a sudden they were plunged into the bright sunlight of a warm summer’s day. It was always summer in Azran, apart from a few months ago when the Book of Anohs had been stolen and the land looked like a thousand winters had gobbled it up and spat it out. Faen suppressed a shudder at that memory.
The water in the stream flowing beside them sparkled like it was filled with thousands of diamonds, but they had no time to admire the beauty of this place. Faen had to find out how the dark magic plaguing his charge worked, and how to reverse it. Prying that out of Todmus may be something of a challenge, but the blonde haired Guardian was relying on the fact that Todmus seemed to have a soft spot for the Custodian and wouldn’t want to see her suffering this way. It was worth a try, he had nothing to lose and Todmus was his only hope. He just hoped that he didn’t have to use any threats. Faen did not like using threats unless there was danger to himself or anyone he was protecting. He definitely did not want to use threats against someone he considered a friend. It will not come to that, Todmus will want to help Faedra. She is his friend, too.
Faen looked down at Faedra’s face at that thought. A solitary tear had broken free and was rolling down her cheek. A look of anguish was starting to replace the resolute anger disrupting her usually serene and beautiful features. Her resolve was starting to crumble and he knew he had to get her back soon. He had to admit he admired her strength, he doubted he would be able to watch his mother murdered over and over, and not go mad from the experience.
There was a rustle in the bushes and the Guardian’s attention was dragged from his charge’s face to the direction of the noise.
A tiny man with a squat face and big pointy ears emerged through the bushes. He grinned from ear to ear as he spotted his friend, Faen. Then his rosy cheeks paled and his kind eyes widened with concern when he took in what, or rather who, his friend was carrying.
“Mr. Faen, wh-what is ailing Miss Faedra?” he spoke with a worried tone, as he scuttled towards his friends, one of them being from the other world as he referred to her.
“ She is under a dark magic spell and I need you to reverse it,” Faen stated in the no-nonsense approach he used when he wanted something done, and done that instant.
Todmus stopped in his tracks and attempted to give the Guardian a puzzled look, one that Faen could see right through.
“I-I do not know what you are talking about, Mr. Faen. I do not know anything about dark magic. It is forbidden to practice in Azran, you know that.”
“Todmus, you do not fool me. I know you have researched dark magic.”
Todmus stiffened at Faen’s accusation.
“Mr. Faen, I…”
“Todmus, I also know that you do not use it. I know what happened to your family and that is the reason you have researched it, so that you can be prepared should anything horrific happen again. Well, something horrific is happening right now and I, or rather, Miss Faedra needs your help.”
Todmus let his shoulders slump and he looked down at the ground, a battle warring in his head. If he admitted to knowing how to use dark magic, he risked the consequence of being expelled from Azran, back to Drofoz. A land ruled by a tyrant sorcerer. A world where he had lost his family to dark magic. But he could see, as plain
as day, that his other world friend was under some kind of dark spell and suffering unspeakable torture. Torture that he had seen before.
“Todmus.”
The commanding voice of Faedra’s Guardian snapped Todmus from his musings. He snapped his attention back to Faen and met his eyes. Eyes that were as agonized as Todmus imagined his were when he was watching helpless while his family was spell-tortured for some supposed secret they held against the crown. It had been nonsense, of course. Everyone in Drofoz knew that any allegations against them were purely made up so that the sorcerer could have some ‘fun’ when he was feeling bored.
“Your secret is safe with me. I will not breathe a word to anyone,” Faen’s eyes were pleading now. “I could have had you exiled long before now, but I know you are a good man. I know you do not use dark magic, and I am asking you to help one of your friends.”
Todmus stared back at the fae friend he held in the utmost regard and held his breath for a moment.
“Please, Todmus,” Faen pleaded.
Biting his bottom lip in uncertainty, Todmus examined Faedra’s features. He could see she was in agony. The kind-hearted man could hardly bear to think of the torture her consciousness was being subjected to. He had seen this spell many times before. Although the physical body was not being ‘abused’, the consciousness could not differentiate between what it was being fed and the actual reality of the person’s surroundings.
He had to bring her back from this and stop it from happening again. Todmus nodded his submission to Faen’s heartfelt request and gestured them to follow him through the bushes towards his home on the other side of the trail.
CHAPTER THREE
“Quickly, quickly,” Todmus prompted Faen and Jocelyn to hurry along behind him with a sweep of his arm in the direction of his home. He scuttled ahead much quicker than should have been possible for a being of such short stature.
“Can’t let Miss Faedra suffer a moment more than she has to,” he mumbled to himself in front of them. “Poor, poor, dear. Must rework protection spell. Oh, it’s been such a long time. I hope I can still remember it. Oh, dear, oh, dear, this is bad. This is very bad.” Todmus repeated, still mumbling to himself all the way back to his little cottage that was nestled against the tree line across the glade they had just entered after emerging from the bushes. Faen glanced down at Jocelyn upon hearing Todmus’ last mumblings, his brow furrowed. His little sister put a reassuring hand on his arm.
“She will be fine, Brother. Todmus will remember the spell, he has to.”
The last time all three had been in this glade, a trio of beautiful white horses had stood in a row waiting to carry them to Azran City. Today it was empty, apart from the array of colorful wildflowers that were in full bloom all around them. Their incredible aroma was lost on the two siblings, who would have usually coveted the fragrant attack on their nostrils whenever visiting their homeland. There just wasn’t a smell quite like it in the World of Men. Not unless it was manufactured and sold in a bottle, and even then it smelled just a little too synthetic for their liking.
“Inside, all of you, quickly now,” the little man instructed the two fairies, upon reaching his cottage and opening the door. He glanced around before following in behind them and closing the door.
Todmus lived in a quaint little cottage at the edge of the glade. It had a thatched roof and white washed walls. There were window boxes full of an explosion of color from flowers he had planted and tended meticulously throughout the year. Faen and Jocelyn ducked to enable them to enter through the front door. The ceiling inside was tall enough for them to stand up in, but only just.
The room they had entered took up the entire ground floor. There was a large fireplace at one end that also doubled as a cooking range, with cooking implements hanging from a rack above the hearth. The tiny kitchen was also located at that end of the room, and a small dining table was placed in front of the fire. There was a chair and a bed towards the other end of the cottage. But what caught Faen’s attention the most, were the shelves full of jars and candles, and all manner of other magical instruments that filled the whole wall on one side of the cottage.
Todmus looked around his home, his brow pinching in a frown.
“It pains me to say this Mr. Faen, but you will have to lay Miss Faedra on the floor as I have no furniture big enough for your size of being.”
“That is perfectly alright, my friend. I am sure Faedra will not mind if the end result frees her from her torment,” Faen replied, as he repositioned a few pieces of furniture with his foot until there was a space large enough on the floor to lay his charge.
He bent over and carefully laid Faedra on the floor, then positioned himself beside her, lifting her head to lay it on his lap when he had settled. He leaned his back against an empty space on the wall and looked down at Faedra’s anguished features, stroking a lock of hair from her face. He watched in silent pain as another tear escaped from between her tightly closed eyelids and rolled down her cheek.
“It will not be long now, Faedra. Todmus will bring you back to me,” the Guardian whispered, as he wiped away the tear with his thumb. “I do not know if you can hear me, but hang on for just a few more minutes. I will get you back, I promise.”
He looked over to where Todmus was industriously garnering various jars from different shelves, procuring the help of Jocelyn for the task.
“Pestle and mortar, Miss Jocelyn, if you please,” Todmus instructed his impromptu assistant. “Let me see, what else?” He rested his chin between thumb and forefinger, deep in thought for just a moment, examining the jars he was lining up along his workspace. “Something else, what am I missing?” He paused, looking along his shelves for inspiration. “Of course, the blue candle. Can you reach that for me?” He pointed to a stout blue candle on one of the upper shelves.
Jocelyn plucked it from its spot and handed it to Todmus. He nodded a thank you as he carried on with his task.
“Now, let me see, do I have everything? Bay, avens, mugwort, yarrow, rosemary…” His verbal revision slid into a mumble as he recounted the rest of the ingredients he had lined up in a neat row on his workbench.
Jocelyn and Faen watched, intrigued, as Todmus took a pinch of this and a drop of that and placed each ingredient with care into the pestle. After only a moment had passed, he grabbed the mortar and started mashing the ingredients, all the while mumbling under his breath. When the mixture was ready, he took a piece of charcoal, placed it on a heatproof container and lit it. Then he took some oil from another bottle and anointed the candle. This time he was mumbling a little louder as he smoothed the oil over the candle. Jocelyn decided that must have been part of the spell. She was so engrossed in what he was chanting that he made her jump when he thrust the pestle full of freshly mixed ingredients at her. She took it and followed him over to where Faedra was laying, and to where Faen was sitting on the floor in Todmus’ cottage.
He stood the candle next to his other world friend and lit it. Then he took some of the ingredients from the pestle and sprinkled them on top of the glowing block of charcoal. The ingredients hissed and spat a little when they hit the heat of the charcoal. As soon as they did, a soft glow emanated from the candle and enveloped the four of them as if they were now all encased in a bubble.
Jocelyn and Faen looked at the aura surrounding them in muted awe. Todmus clapped his hands together once and muttered a ‘yes’ for success. They waited with bated breath. A couple of moments passed and nothing happened. Todmus’ excited expression fell from his face, and his shoulders started to slump.
“Faedra, come back to me.” Faen whispered, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. “Follow my voice, you can do this.”
The trio looked at each other expectantly. All their attention was diverted in the next moment by a muffled groan and their eyes latched onto Faedra’s face.
“Faedra, you have to fight it. Be strong, follow my voice.”
The Custodian’s eyelids flicker
ed.
“That’s right. You are nearly there. Come on Faedra, we are right here.” Faen encouraged.
In the next heartbeat, Faedra’s eyes snapped open and she looked around, startled. She made to get up, anguish still present in her eyes. But Faen held her down. He could not risk her leaving the safety of the aura. Her eyes darted to Todmus and Jocelyn, then turned to Faen, confusion warring with coherence.
“There you are,” he whispered, as she made eye contact with him. “You are safe now, we are in Todmus’ home. He brought you back.”
Recognition seeped back into Faedra’s addled brain. The voice like velvet, the liquid blue eyes full of concern.
“Oh, thank God,” she whispered as she pulled herself up and wrapped her arms tightly around Faen’s neck, tucking her knees to her chest.
Faen held her close as her body started to quiver, which according to Todmus was a normal reaction to this kind of mind torture.
“She will be her normal self in a few moments, but it takes a little while for the mind to separate reality from the invasion it just suffered.” Todmus continued.
They were still all enclosed in the glowing aura that surrounded them. Faen looked at it again. “What kind of spell did you weave my friend?” Faen asked Todmus, while smoothing down Faedra’s hair to comfort her. He noticed that the shiver from her body was ebbing and he could only feel her quiver intermittently, but she still continued to bury her face in his neck.
“It is a protection spell. We cannot move out of the glow until the candle has burned out. Otherwise the spell will not be complete and Miss Faedra could be taken again.” At those words, Faen felt Faedra’s body tense in his embrace.
“You are not going anywhere my little kenget. We will stay right here until the candle burns out. Do not fear Faedra.”
“Once the spell is complete, you will all be protected from whomever feels the need to use such despicable dark magic,” Todmus explained.
Faedra could swear she heard an angry shriek deep in her mind. Then the faintest whisper stroked at her consciousness. You have not seen the last of me samtero kruwos. Of that you have my promise.