by Patti Larsen
Yes, she sent. But not in the dark.
Daylight, then. A few hours yet. I pocketed the gem and patted Demetrius's shoulder.
“I'll take care of it,” I said with way more confidence than I felt. He sagged a little, shrugged and walked into the house like I'd disappointed him.
Wow. Sorry. I was only doing my best.
Not good enough vibes really weren't helping matters any.
I was barely inside the back door when I felt Liam's mind touch mine. Great. Probably more bad news. I braced myself, hanging on to the bottom post of the banister, hearing the others talking quietly in the kitchen as his power embraced me.
Thalion was here, he sent. I couldn't reach you. Could have come across as an accusation, but he managed to keep it gentle.
I was dealing with another problem, I sent, mental tone dry.
I assumed, he sent.
How are things in the realm? I sat on the bottom step, looking out the living room window into the street beyond, the lights casting cold illumination over the quiet block. I focused on that normal scene, took strength from it as he went on.
Not good, he sent. He just wanted to update us. He spoke to Aoilainn who had him banished for speaking up. Liam sighed. She's totally deluding herself, Syd. The Unseelie are doing their best, holding off the deterioration, but I think there will come a point they just won't be able to any longer.
Any idea how much time they have? I hugged myself, rocking a little, knees to my chest as I continued to stare. How could the world outside seem so normal when everything I knew was falling apart?
No, he sent. But Thalion said he's starting to notice weakness on the Seelie side, so the queen's power to hide it has finally reached her limit.
Though I knew Ameline was my only choice, I couldn't bring myself to act.
Coward? Maybe. But taking that step before I explored every possible angle was impossible. I just couldn't do it. Despite knowing I was out of options and had no other angle to run with.
Damn it, there had to be something.
I'm still working on it. I stood and turned, walking upstairs, going back to my room, body heavy with guilt and stress all over again.
Syd, Liam sent. We can't let the Sidhe fall.
Like I don't know that. I didn't mean to snap at him. But he took it gently.
Stay in touch, he sent before hugging me with his energy and letting me go.
To sag to the end of my bed in what felt like defeat.
No. I refused to be beaten. I lay back, closing my eyes, focusing on my power, calling out to the maji I was becoming.
And to her.
***
This time I am in control as I appear on the battlefield in the Enforcer realm. Iepa is waiting for me, a sad smile on her face.
Well done. She lifts her hand to touch my cheek, but I slap her hand away.
I'm not here for platitudes. I've had enough. We're out of time and options. I need to help the Sidhe now and I refuse to free Ameline until we try everything else.
Iepa nods. I warn you, they won't listen.
The other maji. We'll see about that.
My guide's shoulders round forward as her chin drops, but she nods again.
Wake.
***
I sat up, eyes wide, to find her standing next to me. I took me a moment to process this wasn't a dream.
Iepa was as beautiful in real life as she was in the sleeping world where we usually communicated, her golden hair shining in the low light I left on in the bathroom.
“Come then, Sydlynn,” Iepa said, holding out one hand to me while the other gestured. The air parted, a slice opening in the veil. “Let us see if you are more persuasive than I.”
***
Chapter Twenty Two
No rubbery membrane here, nor soap-bubble squeak. And no darkness devouring everything. Instead, when I stepped into the veil, a song welcomed me, a warm blanket and sunshine, a feeling of home like I'd never known before. When Demetrius had taken me to the vampire castle with his sorcery, I wanted to weep from terror and loss.
This time, the tears rose from joy.
We weren't in it long, the delicious place between my plane and the home of the maji. Just long enough I knew I would pine for the feeling for the rest of my life.
Until I found my own way back. And then I might never leave.
The feeling continued to a lesser extent as we exited the veil, the glowing seam sealing with a sigh of sound. I wiped at the wetness on my cheeks, unashamed as Iepa gently touched my hand.
“I know,” she said in a voice vibrating with joy. “You are one of us, Sydlynn. This is what true power feels like.”
I nodded, unable to speak just yet past the lump in my throat, instead taking a moment to absorb my surroundings.
The Sidhe realm was green, filled with beautiful landscapes and lush gardens, trees and streams of silvery water. I'd thought it beautiful, even without the Queen's glamour augmenting it. But she would whither in envy if she ever set foot on the maji plane.
“We call this Center,” Iepa said, beginning to walk, her long, white skirt brushing with musical results over the grass. Grass so deeply green it almost glowed, each blade humming with life. I hated to walk on it, bending to slide my hands through the warmth, feeling the throbbing earth beneath, the call of creation magic flowing with generosity up into my fingers, climbing my arms, settling in my chest like a gift.
Iepa paused, smiled, waited without impatience as I wiped away another tear.
“This is amazing.” I'd never seen a sky so brilliantly blue, almost like a crisp winter day when it took on that particularly amazing shade. This was even more intense, the air fresh and clean, warm on my skin. A soft, bouncing cloud hiccupped its way across the sky, more of a decoration than a threat of rain. I stumbled as my foot caught on the edge of a path when I finally moved forward, steadied by Iepa's gentle touch.
I gaped. Like an idiot. But didn't care even a little. Spread out before me was a shining city, all white marble and gold, greens and blues and reds swirling in vast mosaics of shining tile on walls and roofs. It reminded me of the images I'd seen of old Athens, ancient Greek architecture, but more, older, and defying the laws of gravity and physics.
“Center,” Iepa repeated. “The home of all maji knowledge.”
She got me moving again, each step carrying us rapidly closer until we were at the main gate. The Sidhe's particular way of traveling through their realm had come from the maji, obviously, vast distances covered in a few short steps. I looked up as we passed through the arching entry to the spiraling tower gracing the middle of the city, seemingly carved from stone and mist, frail and fragile while a hulking building, surely made for giants, spread out beneath it. Everywhere I looked was a new wonder, from the sparkling liquid of a waterfall pouring out of empty air and down over a rock wall to splash into a pool.
And, inside the pool, floating on what looked like giant leaves, were people.
Maji.
They ignored us, the three men and four women instead engaged in a heated discussion in languages I didn't recognize. One of the women spoke in high-pitched meeps while a man's voice rumbled, resembling the sound of crushing rock, not a language.
Iepa moved on, ignoring them, and I stayed with her, if only because her hand held mine.
A central fountain rose before us, buildings fanning out around it as we continued up the street. The stone turned from pale gray to more white marble, fusing with the giant fountain, the centerpiece a towering woman with her arms stretched up toward the sky.
“The first maji,” Iepa said. “Aledora. The Creator made her first and from her all of us were made.”
I shivered as we passed under her shadow, looking back over my shoulder at her as we left the fountain behind.
My mind swirled, stuttered, tried to comprehend, but it felt like a losing battle. I finally just allowed the feeling of Center to sweep me up, certain if I was permitted to come here, to live
my life here, my immortality would be worth it.
The giant building loomed ahead, towering white spire climbing to the heavens above it.
“Center Hall,” Iepa said, though now she sounded nervous. My hand clenched around hers in response. “Quickly, now.”
She picked up her pace, drew me toward the monstrous steps. As she did, she grew beside me, taller, bigger until I understood, shaking myself free of some of my wonder in time to tap into my own ability. A simple trick, one my demon knew well, and soon I faced stairs of more normal proportion, though as I turned back to look at the rest of the city, I smiled at how tiny it now seemed.
“Sydlynn,” Iepa's whisper caught my attention as we approached the gaping doors to the bright interior, “if anyone can convince them it will be you.”
I wasn't so sure her confidence in me was well-founded, but we were about to find out.
The broad, open interior shone with sunlight, the roofless building wide open, a long shadow cast over the polished floors, a spiral of darkness from the tower above. I crushed my irrational fear the slender spike would crash down on top of us as Iepa led me to the middle of the room and a small circle of chairs.
Chairs filled with maji. At the far end was a larger chair, a little bulkier than the others. The occupant, along with all of the others gathered, looked up as we approached.
All of my anxiety fell away the moment he smiled at me, white beard close cropped, as sparkling as his teeth and pale gray eyes as he welcomed me with that smile.
“Iepa,” he said in a deep, rich voice, laughter in it. “You've brought us a visitor?”
Iepa didn't seem impressed with his greeting, a frown dipping her brows together. “Zeon,” she said. “This is the one I spoke of. Sydlynn.”
His smile didn't falter, nor did the others look at me unkindly. They all appeared old, though as vigorous as Iepa, and I wondered if they adopted their shining white hair and few wrinkles by choice.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “Welcome to Center, my dear.”
I bobbed a little curtsy before I thought about what I was doing, knowing it had to look ridiculous in my jeans and t-shirt. Zeon's belly laugh in answer made me grin. He stood, crossed the distance between us, white robe shining in the sun as he bent, at least a head taller than me, and took both of my hands in his.
The earth's vibration felt amazing, but the way Zeon's power zinged sent me into bliss. And, like this plane, he was generous with his power, sharing it with me even as I returned the favor.
It wasn't until I saw the flicker of a frown on his face I knew I'd done something wrong. But he didn't say anything to me, instead turning to Iepa.
“Oh, my dear,” he said, shaking his head, still holding my hands. “What have you done?”
Um, what?
One of the women approached, pale gaze reminding me of Gram as she stroked one fingertip down my cheek. A tear welled in the corner of her eye before she shook her head and turned away. I glanced at Iepa, lost, not knowing what was going on, only to see her shoulders tighten, face locked in defiance.
“I did what fate dictated,” she said, unrepentant, voice ringing through the room. A shadow passed over the sun and I glanced up, startled, to see a cloud bank move in. Zeon's face reflected the darkness above, but sadly, not in anger.
He turned back to me, grief as old as the Universe in his eyes. “You've come to ask for help,” he said. “I'm sorry, but we can't give it.”
My heart crushed in my chest as I gasped for a breath. “Why?”
He released me, sighed. “We don't interfere any longer.” He turned and gestured at the others who rose and walked away, small groups forming, whispering to each other, but sad as Zeon when they met my eyes and departed. He ignored their exodus, led me to a chair, the clouds gathering further. The gloom overhead reminded me of the storm threatening the Sidhe realm. The image snapped me out of my adoration and into focus.
“We are merely shepherds,” Zeon said. “Put here by the Creator to guide magical beings. But our task is long done.” He glanced at Iepa who hadn't moved, still stared with her jaw clenched. “Worse, I'm afraid, we failed.”
Well, they sure were failing now. “We need you,” I said. “There is imbalance in our magic.” I used the word specifically, knowing he wouldn't respond to anything else.
“There has always been,” he said. “That is our failure. The Sidhe, they are beautiful and powerful, but empty of empathy.” Zeon sat back in his chair, still mournful, like a grieving Santa Claus or amazing old grandfather I just wanted to hug. His power continued to radiate from him, without barriers, no shields or wards restraining him. My awe crept back without my permission as he went on. “The demons are also powerful, full of vigor and life. But the monsters inside them seek to devour their souls when they fully access that power.” I had seen that first hand, felt it, in fact, both when I'd stripped my cousin Cypherion of his power and when Dad fought Vandelarius for Second Seat.
Not pretty.
He turned to my guide. “And the vampires, they are driven by their need for creation energy. Your attempt to become Creator has failed as well, my dear Iepa.” He shook his head. “Your folly, thinking you could do what our Creator could not.”
“At least I tried.” I'd thought of Iepa as this all-powerful maji when we'd first met. And she never gave me reason to believe otherwise. But right now, in this moment, hearing Zeon chastise her, seeing her stand up to him, a surge of protectiveness and connection to her formed inside me.
She was me. Fighting for the right. Against a society that wouldn't listen. Wouldn't see past their own failings.
My revelation was enough to shake loose the last of my private awe and stir my temper.
“What about witches?” Iepa's tiny smile told me I hit on a weak point in his argument.
Zeon's lips lifted without malice, fondness in his voice. “Yes, the witches,” he said. “They showed the most promise. They lived, loved and created, no matter their short lifespans.” His happiness faded. “But they, too, are afraid. Even now they hide from the truth, do they not?”
Damn it.
Zeon stood, offered me his hand. I took it, rose to face him as he bowed to me.
“I wish you well,” he said. “But we will not interfere.”
***
Chapter Twenty Three
My woken anger snapped like a cheap bra strap. “You blame the witches for being afraid, for not acting.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I'm kind of seeing some parallels here, if you know what I mean.”
Another flash of a grin from Iepa. Okay then. I was really starting to like her.
Why hadn't I noticed before how much we were alike?
Zeon didn't react with anger, just more kindness, and I began to wonder if I could smother in it. The idea of living here, spending eternity here, wasn't as appealing as it had been. If a life of contemplation and inactivity waited for me in Center, I'd be making my home elsewhere, thanks.
“You made this mess.” I shifted tactics. Let's see if guilt would help. “The sorcerers you created are trying to take over everything. And thanks to the way you made them, it's almost impossible for the other races to fight back.”
Finally, a flicker of answering anger from him. It didn't last. Zeon clasped his hands in front of his belly and sighed. I was getting tired of his sighs. “There are those of our race who do not follow the path of natural evolution,” he said. “They are at fault, not we.”
Talk about passing the buck. “So because these dark maji didn't play nice, we have to suffer the consequences? While you stand around and moan and whine it wasn't your fault?” Wound up? Getting there. The once delicious feeling of Center now made my skin crawl, Zeon's openness with his magic turning my stomach in its arrogance. “We can't do this on our own. We need you to level the playing field.”
Zeon didn't speak, his expression still calm and sad.
Ack.
I reached out to him with my power, let him feel me agai
n. “I'm not asking you to do it alone,” I said. “I'm perfectly capable of dealing with things on the ground. But the Sidhe are in trouble, and so are the vampires. Some backup, knowing I'm not alone out there, will mean the difference between success and failure.”
He gently raised a shield between our power, the first I'd felt from him, cutting me off as easily as I'd done to others in the past. Weird to be on the other side of powerful magic for once and not be able to fight my way inside no matter how righteous the cause.
“You are not to be,” he said. “No maji were ever meant to be born again.” His blue eyes met Iepa's. “But now that you are, we will not unmake you.”
Whoa. That was an option? I spun on Iepa who ignored me in favor of scowling at Zeon.
“The prophecy is clear.” Her clenched fists bounced against her thighs in clear frustration.
“A prophecy only those of the dark heed.” Zeon turned away, head down, hands behind his back before turning toward us again. He began to glow, rainbow power spiraling around him as he spoke. “If the magical races fall, so be it. We will be here to start anew. As is the Creator's will.” He met my eyes as he began to fade, translucent, the chair behind him clearer and clearer through his form. “I wish you well,” he said. “But you will fail.”
And then, he was gone.
Oh hell no.
I spun on Iepa, pent-up fury needing to lash at her, but the frustration and answering anger on her face was enough to stop my assault.
She wasn't the enemy. From what I now knew, she wanted to help all along.
“What's to keep you from lending a hand directly?” I paced in front of the circle of chairs, shaking my hands to release some tension.
“I can't.” Her words came out in a groan. “They won't let me.” She trembled with her own emotions. “I've barely been able to come to you as it is.”
“But the dark maji don't have that problem, do they?” I watched Iepa shake her head, golden hair whipping around her. “Will they help us?”