TORN: (The Fire Born Novels, Book Two)

by Laney McMann

  Justice stopped in a huff and began un-strapping the various harnesses across his shoulders, hips, and back. Throwing everything, weapons and all, at his feet, he sank onto the forest floor and, shifted into his human state, digging around in the backpack my grandmother had given him.

  “Give me the map.” I held out my hand.

  “The thing with squiggly lines all over it?” He threw it at me, his brownish hair framing his deep blue eyes. “Good luck reading it. It’s not even written in English.”

  “That’s because my grandmother is Irish!” I stomped my foot. “We need to keep moving.” I tried to gather my bearings but had no idea where we were.

  “Keep moving where?” He yanked the cap off a water bottle. “We’re in the middle of …” He thrust his hands in the air and said, “Nowhere.” His drink poured over his chin, thanks to the flail of his arms.

  “I hear a waterfall in the distance. I know most of the falls here. If we follow the sound, I may be able to get us back on track.”

  “That’s great and all, but we’re—or I am—supposed be incognito, remember? We can’t go gallivanting off toward your home-sweet-home waterfall and risk being seen.” He stared up toward the treetops. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

  “Are you always such a jerk?”

  “After we’ve been walking in circles for an hour? And I’ve had to fly your ridiculously heavy weight twice now—“ He shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.” He tipped the water bottle up, drinking the rest of it.

  “Look, I don’t really care about your issues, which you obviously have plenty of, I do, however, care about finding Max. So, you can either continue to sit here and sulk, or you can follow me.” I gave him the same nonchalant shrug as he’d given me. “Doesn’t make much difference. Like you said, I’m from here. I can find my way, eventually.” Hopefully. I snatched the sack my grandmother had packed with supplies off the ground, lugged it on top of my own backpack, and opened the map, leaving Justice sitting in the bushes.

  The clanking of steel sounded behind me as I strode away, a sigh or two, and the unmistakable slapping of leather straps being tightened.

  By the time the natural sounds of the forest reigned again, I stood outside the dilapidated walls of an abandoned Necropolis. Looming live Oak trees shadowed hundreds of intricately-engraved tomb stones resting within a vast, decomposing cemetery. Wrought iron gates that, surely, had once welcomed visitors had long since corroded away, leaving wicked spikes of rusted iron where finials had once been. Fractured flagstones wound a path from the entrance through the grave sites. Silvery lichen grew in thick clumps through the path’s cracks.

  Ancient mausoleums lined the cemetery’s bricked walls, smothered by English Ivy like invading tentacles, their once white facades a deep faded grey, as if they were becoming one with the shaded forest surrounding them. Some of the crypts had crumbled away, leaving only chunks of stone to mark their earlier existence. Fissures spider-webbed up and down the deteriorating sides of some of the burial chambers, exposing skeletal remains within. Other mausoleums stood tall and majestic, as if neither heaven nor hell could ravage their walls.

  My foot lifted from the ground as if by its own will, and I took a step forward toward the entrance.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Startled, I glanced over my shoulder. Justice stood beside me, thankfully still in his human guise.

  I veered back, my gaze falling on the burial chambers in the far corner of the Necropolis—the ones that looked the oldest, yet somehow, proudest of them all. “We were lost, remember?” I wrapped my fingers around what was left of the ornate gates. If I peered closely enough, beautifully detailed carved roses came into view. They wound their way across the top of the metal gate. “What is this place?” I lifted my foot to take another step as if some force drew me inside.

  Justice grabbed my arm. “Don’t. We’re in the Shadow Wood. This is the City of the Dead.” His words came out a whisper.

  City of the Dead? “What’s a cemetery this big doing in the middle of a forest?” Or any cemetery? I stared at the cluster of ruined, yet regal, graves.

  “I—how do I know? Come on, it’s spooky.”

  “Hang on a sec.”

  “Layla, Night Walkers watch over the graves. Let’s go.” He tugged at my elbow.

  “Night Walkers?”

  “They protect the tombs.” His gaze roamed toward the shadowing overhang of trees.

  “It’s the middle of the day. You’re not afraid, are you?” I glanced at him.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “No. I just don’t like hanging out in very old, very haunted-looking graveyards in the middle of shadowy, deserted forests.”

  “It’s not haunted. Look—you can tell how beautiful it used to be. It’s just that no one takes care of it anymore.”

  “Exactly. Because the people who used to take care of it are all dead.” His mouth formed a straight line.

  I started down the flagstone path. “I want to see. I—I need to see.”

  The cemetery smelled of damp, warm soil—thick, humid, and alive. Spanish moss drooped over my head and shrouded some of the tombs completely.

  “Layla—no. Seriously. I’m not going in there with you. And I thought we were looking for Max? You know, Max … The reason we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “We are looking for Max.” I ran my fingertips across the headstones lining the walkway. Each one had a family crest, name, and date engraved into it, but there were only a few I could actually read because of the erosion.

  954 ~ 1011 Mathghamhain

  717 ~ 776 O’Brien

  “So … old. How are they all still standing?” I continued through the maze of graves toward the far back corner of the Necropolis, reading as I went.

  513 ~ 548 Mac Eoghain

  “The dates went further and further back in history. So far back, I wondered how the whole cemetery hadn’t gone to dust.

  Justice trudged up behind me. “Okay, you saw it. Yay. Great. Pretty graveyard.” He made a mocking girl’s voice that I guessed was supposed to be mine. “Now, let’s go.” He grabbed for my elbow.

  I stepped out his of reach. “Hang on. I need to go in the back.”

  “Where the mausoleums are? Layla, seriously. There’s nothing to see. Are you totally forgetting what we’re out here for? The door to the Underworld? The Fae Realm? Your Grandmother’s plan? Finding Max …” Justice made a growling noise but kept to the path, shuffling his feet on the paving stones like he was afraid to step off of them onto the damp earth. “We need to keep moving before we’re seen.”

  “Who would see us in here? It looks like no one’s been here in thousands of years.” Or more. Way more.

  His gaze kept drifting from side to side like he thought we were being watched.

  The largest of the mausoleums towered over our heads as we walked up on it, and what I thought had been a ruin when I’d spotted it from the entrance of the cemetery, was nothing more than a blanket of shadows. Up close, the building’s facade shone in bright white stone, with all the moss, crawling English ivy, and lichen cleared away from it.

  Iron gates secured the contents within the tomb and gleamed in gold as if they’d been recently polished. I rested my hand on an elaborately designed bronze padlock. In the shape of a heart, it had aged to a bright green patina. An eternity symbol was engraved on the front. I traced my fingers over the smooth surface and held its heavy weight in my hand. Sharp grooves scratched against my palm. Flipping the lock over, I exposed the back side, and my heart rose up in my throat. “Justice?” I trembled, his name escaping my lips with a slight stutter.

  “Oh, you remembered I was here?” He raised his eyebrows.

  “Read this.”

  He trudged forward. “’Mac … Coin … nich?’” He gave me a confused look. “I don’t read Irish.”

  “It says MacKenzie.” My voice shook.

  “That says MacKenzie?” He turned his he
ad to the side and squinted. “Whatever you say. Looks like ‘Mac … Coin … nih … ch’ to me.”

  I pushed him out of the way, staring at the lock. Why does it say MacKenzie?

  “You don’t think this has anything to do with Max? This graveyard is thousands of years old. Look at it.” He raised his hands in the air. “Anyway, didn’t MacKenzie used to be a really common Irish name? Well … last name, anyway.”

  I nodded, still staring at it. “I guess so.” A sense of foreboding gripped me. Why does the grave look so new?

  “Come on, Layla. I told you it was spooky in here. I have no idea what you find so fascinating … a bunch of crumbling stones and old names.” He gave a fake shudder. “So, Max? Can we find him now? Or were you thinking we should set up camp and stay here a while? Find some old rusted shovels and break in to the tombs, maybe?”

  “Oh, shut up.” I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, barely breathing, and let Justice drag me back down the crumbling flagstone path.

  After walking in more circles, we finally found the High Road again and followed it until it dead-ended onto a wide open field. Mounds of earth dotted the countryside in a never-ending roll of grassy green hills. It reminded me of the clearing in the World of Light. Bunches of lavender and pale yellow wildflowers sprouted up at random, their sweet perfume hanging heavily in the air. An odd haze draped the scene like a thin blanket, and I realized thousands of insects were buzzing around the field.

  Butterflies the size of small birds with wings sparkling like jewels, jumped from bloom to bloom in hyper speed. Neon orange dragonflies danced in the rays of sunlight. Bright yellow and black striped bumblebees hovered lazily around flowers, and nestled within one of the mounds of earth, lay a pathway that wound to a miniature doorway covered in blackberry brambles.

  “I think this is the Realm of the Fae.” I took a step closer toward the field, and Justice’s arm flew in front of me like a two-by-four.

  “Faeries are sketchy, crazy-mean—vicious creatures. The field looks all pretty and peaceful now, but—wham!”

  “Justice. Benny is a faerie …”

  “Benny’s different. Way different.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But we have to go through the field in order to talk to the Fae Queen, to find the doorway into the Shadow Realm, to find Max.” I pushed his arm down, and took a step out of the underbrush onto the green landscape. “I’m going in.”

  Metal spikes shot straight up out of the ground, ripped through the tip of my shoe, scratched my face, and knocked me backward. On top of Justice.

  “Wish you would listen to me now and then.” His voice was muffled by my hair, and he grunted, pushing me off of him and onto my feet. “How does Max stand it?”

  “Oh, be quiet.” My fingers wrapped around the steel rods of the fence now keeping us out of the field. “So, genius, how do we get in?”

  “Hell if I know.”

  “I thought my grandmother went through all of this already?”

  “She said to tell Queen Asrai that she sent me, and she would cooperate.” He cringed as he said, ‘cooperate.’ “That’s code for make me consume some fruity drink that smells like flowers so I’ll sleep forever, or run naked through the forest, singing until my legs fall off.” He shuddered. “Your grandmother didn’t say I’d have to break in.” He stood staring off toward the tiny doorway like he’d rather set himself on fire than take one more step.

  Shaking my head, I walked along the right side of the fence, away from the cover of trees and underbrush. Beyond the enclosure, all remained peaceful in a slumbering summertime way.

  “Hello?” I called out.

  “You’re yelling now? Good, god.” Justice lumbered toward me with all his weaponry clanking. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “It’s not like you didn’t know you were coming here. What’s your problem?”

  “Coming by invitation if I remember correctly.” He grabbed one of the steel spikes protruding from the ground and shook it. “This isn’t a welcome sign. Maybe we can go around.” He glanced to the left and right, and groaned.

  “We have a problem.” I squatted down into the grass and rested my forehead against the metal fence. “No one is going to help us.”

  “Teine of the Light World.” A woman’s voice rang over the faint sounds of buzzing insects.

  I sprang up. “Yes.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m—me.” What does she mean, who am I?

  “Yes.” She chuckled. “As I am myself. That is not, however, the question I asked. Who are you? I cannot offer assistance to anyone who asks, no matter how handsome her friend may be.”

  I glanced at Justice, and his face paled to sheet white.

  “I’m the heir to the throne,” I mumbled, feeling like an imposter. I had no right to any throne.

  “And that makes you?” She paused as if waiting for me to finish the sentence.

  I glanced through the spikes toward the tiny closed door. And that makes me what?

  Justice elbowed me, his eyes opened wide.

  My shoulders slumped. “And that makes me Princess Teine,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  The metal fence receded into the ground at our feet.

  “Please enter the Realm of the Fae, Princess and her escort.”

  Justice walked beside me as if he’d forgotten how to bend his knees.

  “Stay in your human guise so we don’t get kicked out of here.”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, without any hint of his usual smart mouth. “And don’t eat or drink anything.”

  “I know.”

  “In fact, I think we should both hold our breath. I’ve heard the Fae burn different herbs that knock people unconscious so they can trap them in their realm forever.”

  I eyed him. “I doubt you’d be able to hold your breath from here to the doorway.”

  He opened his mouth like he was going to respond, but hushed as we approached a woman in a flowing white dress standing in the center of the field. Her bare feet were adorned in woven yellow vines, with little purple flowers winding through the straps.

  “Follow me.” She inclined her head. “Please leave your weapons here, and stay on the path. It is not safe to wander off.”

  Justice made another grumbling sound as he removed his weaponry, leaving his belt and harnesses. I glanced at blackberry brambles encrusted in prickly thorns snaking the path. They led all the way to the miniature doorway partially hidden behind more spiny vines. Probably an effective way to snare small animals.

  Hundreds of crystal jewels were inlaid into the wooden door in a circular pattern. It resembled the face of the moon. The Fae woman touched a small stone with the tip of her finger, and the doorway rose from the ground, tripling the size of the earthen mound in front of us, before it swung wide.

  Justice took in an audible breath and walked through it.

  One large domed skylight loomed overhead, caked with sludge, and blocked out any chance for sunlight to brighten the dark space. The rich aroma of sandalwood hung in the still air, and narrow plumes of smoke rose and collected in the rounded ceiling from small burning torches sunk into soiled walls.

  Eyebrows raised, Justice glanced at me and put a hand over his nose and mouth. I followed his lead.

  No wind or air moved, and a stifling heat radiated out of the earth like an oven. Spindly root systems intersected across the dirt floor as if in a constant state of flux. Their pattern changed continuously, the roots growing on top of one another like squirming worms. An echoing, almost dizzying effect encompassed the space as high pitched bells and low gongs rang in unison. The sound made my eyes cross.

  Justice held the hand out that was covering his mouth, attempting to lead us both through the maze.

  Following our guide, we passed clusters of fae children singing and playing around a large tarnished metal fountain riddled with flitting, bulgy-eyed fireflies and tiny colorful moths. The children’s clothes sparkled like golden spun s
ilk, although the lack of sunlight provided no means of illumination. Instead, the fountain itself had an ethereal light. It seemed to be the only source in the entire space.

  Slow moving cascades of water bordered the fountain and bled up through the soil, feeding muddy streams that puddled into a wide creek bed, which wound down a passageway on our left and brimmed over with lily pads and croaking toads.

  Circling the fountain, our guide led us to the opposite side, and just above eye level within the fountain itself, rested an oxidized metal throne. Like the entry door, it was encrusted in hundreds of jewels, all shining as if lit from within. Instead of crystals, I recognized jade, moonstone, lapis, and cat’s eye. A woman in a dark green dress sat before us in the throne, submerged up to her waist in the trickling water of the fountain. Curls of copper locks draped her exposed pale shoulders, and her skin shimmered with translucency. More crystal jewels adorned the arch of her eyebrows, highlighting pale lavender, cat-slitted eyes. For a split second, I thought the odd light within the fairie mound came from within her. She glowed.

  “Please, sit.” She motioned toward the damp earthen ground in front of her. The Fae Queen’s gaze rested on Justice, who returned her stare as we sat down. “Princess Teine of the Light World.” She inclined her head.

  “Yes.” I coughed, finding it hard to breathe through the sweet scents mingling with the thick smell of hot mud.

  “Interesting. I am Asrai. I was unaware of your visit. The Light Queen sent word of another.” She gestured toward Justice. “This is your mate?”

  “No.” His voice rushed out like he thought I was going to say otherwise.

  “No, of course you are not.” She smiled. “You are?”

  “Justice. I’m—” He hesitated and glanced at me as if he wasn’t sure if he should tell her what he really was.

  “One of The Fallen? Yes, I know what you are. It makes no difference to me. We have no allegiances here. Hell or otherwise.” She eyed him with what had to be interest.