by R. A. Rock
“Wait,” Tessa said. “It was my understanding that killing the queen would destabilize all of the Fae lands, or possibly even all of Esper.” Her delicate eyebrows drew together.
Finn reminded himself that it didn’t matter what she and her pretty eyebrows looked like. She was the enemy, and that was all he needed to know.
“That’s correct,” Nathaniel said. “But we didn’t find that out until the queen was fatally wounded in a battle and the entire world began to crumble. I’m sure you two have heard the stories. The King showed up and saved her in order to save the realm, of course. But from then on, we knew that if either the King or Queen was killed, there would be dire consequences for our entire world.”
“So what would actually happen if someone killed the Dark Queen?” Finn asked, thinking of his vow to do just that.
“Our world would be destroyed.” Nathaniel lifted one shoulder and dropped it again. He shook his head. “It would simply cease to exist.”
Finn’s grandfather’s face was solemn as he pronounced the words.
“All of the Fae lands would be gone, and possibly all of Esper as well. No one quite knows what the consequences would be, but we know that the King and Queen are tied to the land itself, and if they are killed, everything would be destroyed.”
Well, Shadows take me, but that’s terrible. Finn knew killing the queen was a bad idea for him personally, but this was another level of awful. If he kept his vow—and the magic would see to it that he did—then he would destroy the entire realm. If he didn’t keep the vow, then the magic would leach the Starlight out of him until his soul was completely gone and his body turned to dust. A Fae cannot exist without Starlight—it is the animating presence, the life energy, the soul at the heart of a Fae’s being. Without it, a faerie cannot survive.
“What is it, Finn?” his grandfather asked, examining him. “Your face is so pale. You look as though you’ve seen a Skransser.”
The Captain glanced at Finn, a question in her eyes, and he tried to cover up his reaction. There was no way Finn could tell either of them about his vow. He hadn’t told anyone about it in all this time, and he wasn’t going to tell anyone today.
“Uh, it’s just… well, that would be terrible if someone killed the queen. Of course. I guess that’s why no one has.” He attempted to compose himself. “Um, well, why don’t you go on with the story? I’m sorry to have gotten you off track.”
The Captain was now looking at him suspiciously, and his grandfather didn’t exactly seem convinced by his explanation either, but he went on.
“Right. Now where was I?”
“Maddock was looking for something to kill the queen, but he hadn’t found anything.”
“Exactly. So that meant there was only one other place to go.”
“Where?” the Captain asked, leaning forward and clearly getting into the story.
“Perdira’s Mire,” the old man said in a deep voice, always the storyteller. “He would have to go into the deadly swamp, from whence most people never returned.”
“Why would he go in there if he knew he was going to die?” the Captain asked, skeptical. “That’s stupid.”
“Most people never returned,” his grandfather said. “Not all. There were some that came out again. He knew the tales about Perdira. That she had been the Second star to fall. That she was as powerful as the queen.”
“As powerful as the queen?” the Captain interrupted, but the old man didn’t seem annoyed.
“Yes.”
“Well, then why hasn’t anyone recruited her before to force her to heal the Severance?” The Captain’s tone had started out incredulous and then had switched to derisive—as if she were scoffing at the idea that anyone was as powerful as the queen.
But her initial reaction had been bewildered. As if she wondered why someone hadn’t taken the Dark Queen out before if it were possible.
That was odd.
Finn exchanged a glance with his grandfather. It was not the response he would expect from a lackey of the crown, and by the look in his grandfather’s eyes, he was thinking the same thing. Perhaps the Captain was not who she seemed to be.
The old man went on. “First of all, she’s as powerful as the queen, so she probably couldn’t make her do anything. And she can’t kill her, so that’s out. But what Perdira does do is grant wishes.”
“Tales heard at my grandmother’s knee,” the Captain said, rolling her eyes and waving a hand in dismissal. “That’s nonsense.”
“Is it, Captain?”
“Yes, the Faerie in the Swamp is a bedtime story. A child’s tale.” She sat back and crossed her arms, obviously losing interest.
“Is it?” Finn’s grandfather asked again, a sly expression on his face. “If you granted wishes, would you tell everyone? Ensuring that you were constantly pestered? Or would you spread rumors that it was just a story?”
“Hm, good point,” she said, tilting her head back and forth as if considering. “Only those who were truly desperate would try, having exhausted all other options.”
“Exactly,” his grandfather said, slapping his hand on the table. “And that is precisely what happened with Maddock. He had nowhere else to turn, so he went to Perdira’s Mire.”
“What happened then?” The Captain leaned forward eagerly, once more interested in the story.
“Well, he went to the edge of the swamp and stood there and called Perdira. He called her until he was hoarse and had given up hope. And then she appeared to him.”
Finn and the Captain were both silent, completely drawn in by the story.
“He explained that he desperately needed a weapon to kill the Dark Queen. And he would do anything to get it.”
“Anything,” the Captain repeated, grabbing another piece of bread and popping it into her mouth.
“Yes, a dangerous thing to say to Perdira. But he really was at the end of his rope. At that time, the Fae believed that this whole Severance nonsense could be reversed and would be reversed as soon as the king and queen got over their fit of tempers and made up.” His grandfather’s eyes got sad. “But everyone misjudged how afraid the queen was and how angry the king had been. So there were many people back then actively searching for a way to end the Severance. And one of the ways that was thought to be the easiest and quickest was to simply kill the queen. But the problem was that there was no weapon that existed that could kill her.”
“I didn’t know that,” Finn said, relieved that this trip had been worthwhile after all. “You’re telling us things that you didn’t mention to me the first time.”
“Yes, I’m trying to remember as much as possible and dredging up as many details as I can, in case they can be of use to you in your quest.”
“Thank you,” the Captain said, a tiny half smile gracing her face. “Will you go on? What did she do after he explained what he needed?”
“At first Perdira refused, but when he begged, she agreed to grant his wish on one condition.”
“And what was the condition?” Finn asked.
“That he give up the thing he wanted most in the world.”
“What?” the Captain asked. Her face looked white, her eyes too large in her pretty face. “The way he got the blades was by giving up his heart’s desire?”
Finn’s grandfather gave one solemn nod.
“It’s the reason Perdira is still alive. She feeds on people’s desperation.”
“Well, this isn’t going to work,” the Captain said. “The queen thought that she could arm some of her soldiers with these blades, but there’s no way those selfish—”
The Captain cut herself off, and her eyes got wide as she realized she had almost cursed in front of an elder.
“There’s no way those men would do such a thing. There’s just no way. And now we have to go back to the queen empty handed and—” She broke off, her eyes troubled.
“Perhaps we should allow Grandfather to finish the story before we jump to conclusions.”
/> The Captain turned her big brown eyes on Finn, a stormy expression on her face.
“I will finish,” Grandfather said, preventing any more arguments. “Well, of course Maddock agreed, never thinking what it would mean. He asked for a weapon that could kill the queen in exchange for the thing he wanted most in the world, and Perdira granted his request.”
“Oh no,” Finn said, understanding suddenly dawning. “Didn’t he realize?”
“That getting the blades would mean that he could never have what he wanted most, which was to kill the queen and end the Severance? I think he must have figured that out. But I think he must have hoped that someone else would be able to use them.”
“And? So what happened?” the Captain was clearly getting tired of all the interruptions.
“He received The Unity Blades. But, as you know, the queen was not killed in his lifetime. Nor was the Severance ended. No one could understand it. The Severance was not intended to be permanent. And yet it became so.”
“Because of his deal with Perdira?”
Grandfather shrugged. “Some think so. Not that this story is widely known.”
“Are you saying that he made the Severance permanent by his misguided wishing?” the Captain asked, looking horrified at the thought. “By his actions, the very thing he was trying to prevent was made a certainty?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Shadows take me,” the Captain whispered. Then her mouth dropped open, and she covered it with her hand as she realized that she had cursed in front of an elder—the height of disrespect. Finn’s grandfather didn’t seem to notice, though.
“Of course, it’s said that the person who possesses the Scroll of Severance has the power to end the Severance.”
“What?” Finn asked, feeling the Captain’s sharp gaze on him. “I’ve never heard that.”
His grandfather nodded. “Nevertheless, it is true. The Faerie who holds the Scroll holds the power to end the Severance.”
“How? How can that person end the Severance?” The Captain stood up, putting both her hands on the table and leaning toward Finn’s grandfather.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “That’s all I know.”
“Doesn’t matter.” She shook her head and turned toward Finn. “We’re dead. We’re dead, Mr. Noble. We can’t get the blades, and we can’t return without them. She will pursue us to the ends of Esper or farther, and she will kill us as slowly and as painfully as possible.”
Finn stared at her. The Captain was right. Their quest ended here.
“No, there is a way,” the old man said, not looking as though they were going to like his suggestion.
“What is it?” Tessa asked.
“Do what you came to do,” he said. “Go to Perdira’s Mire and ask for another set of blades identical to these. That way, you can return and tell the queen that you got them. It will be for her to figure out that it will be impossible to outfit an army of cowards in such a way.”
“But...” Suddenly, the Captain looked a lot younger and more vulnerable. Finn was surprised.
“But you would have to give up your heart’s desire,” Grandfather said, a compassionate look on his face. “That’s right.”
The Captain dropped down into her chair with a thump as if her legs would hold her no longer.
“You would have to give up your heart’s desire, but you would still be alive,” Grandfather said, his voice sounding kinder. “How much is your life worth to you?”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course, I would rather be alive without the thing I want most than dead.”
“Then there is no choice, Captain,” Grandfather said, shaking his head. “You must go to Perdira’s Mire.”
Chapter 9
Tessa got down off her horse and glanced around. The shadows were lengthening, and the swamp, with its dense foliage, already looked positively dark. She sniffed tentatively, taking in the rotting smell of the bog before them, then swallowed hard as a wave of nausea hit her.
The local man who had guided them to the edge of Perdira’s Mire held tight to the reins to keep his horse from running off. The man pushed his greasy hair out of his eyes, which were darting around furtively. The horse he rode was dancing, anxious to leave.
“This is it,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the swamp, down at Tessa, and then back down the road that led to the village. “So, I’ll just be on my way.”
“Wait,” Finn called after him as he started to ride away. “Your coins.”
The man brought the horse around in a circle and snatched the pouch from Finn’s hand, the coins clinking. Then he jerked hard on the reins and turned back the way they had come. The horse didn’t seem to mind how rough its rider was being, as if it was just as eager to get out of there.
Tessa met Finn’s eyes as the sound of hoofbeats faded into the eerie quiet.
“He’s in quite the rush,” Finn said, not seeming worried.
“Look, Mr. Noble,” Tessa started and then stopped. Since she was going to be risking her life with him at her side, it seemed ridiculous to still be calling each other Mr. Noble and Captain, as they had been doing since they left Direwood Castle.
“Look, Finn,” Tessa said.
“Oh, it’s Finn, now, is it?” he asked, swinging down off his horse and stepping toward her. He gave her an amused grin, and she curled her hand into a fist to keep from involuntarily reaching out and touching the stubble on his cheek. She had tried willing away her attraction for him, but so far, it hadn’t worked.
Didn’t work this time, either.
Finn was wearing breeches and a worn-looking shirt that he had somehow procured at the castle. The shirt, which had once been white, was belted at the waist and had definitely seen better days.
Tessa pressed her lips together and gathered her dignity.
“This is foolish,” she said, holding up her forearm diagonally toward him—her hand in a strong fist. Then she introduced herself as if they were meeting for the first time. “My name is Tessa Callahan.”
Finn studied her for a long moment, and then a smile slowly lit his face.
“Finn Noble,” he said, and they pressed their forearms together in the traditional Fae greeting. She knew other beings shook hands, but a Faerie would never do that because of the possibility of magic being exchanged when their hands were palm to palm. “May the Stars light your way, Tessa, Captain of the Guard.”
“And may the Stars guide you, too, Finn. But please don’t call me that anymore.” She rolled her eyes. “I have never been so sick of hearing my title.”
He laughed outright at this comment, and it echoed back at them so strangely that it made them both frown.
“Yes, well, I felt quite above my station being referred to as Mr. Noble so much,” Finn said, shaking off the weird echo. “I am merely an outlaw and a scoundrel, you know.”
This got a smile from Tessa, and they stood for a moment until the silence grew uncomfortable.
“So, what’s the plan, Tessa?” Finn asked, his face serious. “You’re in charge. I’m just here to keep you out of trouble.”
She snorted. “You’re going to keep me out of trouble? From the stories your grandfather was telling last night, it will definitely be me keeping you from getting yourself killed.”
They both turned and faced the swamp.
It looked wet. And dark.
There was a nasty mist floating in the air.
And night was falling.
Tessa was willing to bet there were monsters in there too. She swallowed hard. Shadow-cursed monsters. She wished she could drop them all in the Chasm.
“We should probably find somewhere to stay for the night,” Finn suggested as they surveyed the land before them. “Back at that village, perhaps. We can go in tomorrow.”
Tessa scowled and shook her head. “No, I’m not coming back here. I need to do this now, or I may not do it at all.”
Finn grimaced. “You don’t have to do this, Tessa. You could try
and explain to the queen—”
“You obviously don’t know the queen very well,” Tessa said, never taking her eyes from the swamp.
“Well, then you could run.”
“There’s nowhere in Esper far enough.”
“You’re not very open to possible solutions that don’t involve giving up your heart’s desire or your life.”
“That’s because your grandfather was right. There is no other choice.”
“I guess,” Finn said, and when Tessa turned to look at him, he seemed troubled as he continued to gaze into the swamp. “But this feels wrong.”
Tessa swallowed hard.
“My entire life has felt wrong for a very long time,” she said, and it was Finn’s turn to twist his head to study her, bewildered by her statement. She ignored his confusion and took one step into Perdira’s Mire, feeling a shiver run up her spine as she did. “This is no different. Come on. Let’s go.”
Finn followed Tessa into the swamp, keeping his sword in his hand and noticing that she had nocked an arrow on her bow. Finn’s grandfather had warned him not to use the blades unless he really needed to, because of the magical cost. Plus, if people knew about them, they might want to take them. So, he had always avoided pulling them unless it was an emergency. His legs were soaked immediately as they stepped into thigh-high water only a few feet in.
He had no idea what was in the cold, brown water, and he didn’t want to find out, so he kept his eyes off the surface and just moved faster when he felt something brush his knee.
The next hour had them splashing into deep puddles and then out again onto merely soggy ground. Tessa killed one fierce, furry animal, the likes of which Finn had never seen before. And he hacked at three different snakes that swung down from the trees.
At first, the stench overwhelmed Finn, but as they continued deeper into the mire, it seemed to lessen. Maybe they had just gotten used to it.
Tessa kept calling for Perdira, but there was no sign of the ancient Faerie. Still, her voice wasn’t hoarse yet, so he figured they had a while yet to go.