The Fairy Queen (The Dark Queens Book 6)

by Jovee Winters

  A wave of sunlight suddenly crested through the trees above. And I knew It smiled down upon me.

  Explore this world, my child. Move between the peoples. Learn. I think you might discover you like it...

  “I have my duties to The Blue first.”

  Yes, you do. But do find time to take care of yourself too.

  The Blue and Syrith flashed away. I shook my strange and maudlin thoughts off. “I must go now.”

  But I sensed my Creator had already left. Squaring my shoulders, I turned and entered a realm of darkness and chaos.

  ~*~

  Syrith

  I know Hades told me that the fairy was simply a facsimile of the real thing, but the moment her hand had landed upon my shoulder, I would not have believed him. Would have thought a grand joke had been played at my expense.

  “So you’re to be my future lover,” she sneered, rolling her eyes and giving me a look of perverse disgust.

  I might have considered her passably pretty. Until she’d opened her mouth. She was pale. With big, bobbing blue ringlets of hair dancing around her shoulders. Clear blue eyes. And a rosebud mouth. But now all I saw was an unattractive and hateful fae who made my skin crawl.

  “Never lovers, fae, make no mistake,” I shot back.

  Snorting, she tapped a star-tipped wand against one palm, giving me a look that made me wonder whether she planned to turn me into a newt. Her eyes were like drills boring into me. The evidence of her abhorrence for me was apparent.

  She shrugged, causing her broad electric wings to flutter almost prettily. If the chit would just keep her mouth shut, I might actually learn to like her appearance.

  “Here’s the deal, male. I fight. You stand there and look stupid. Or whatever it is you do.” She fluttered her fingers at me.

  I clenched my jaw. “It is no wonder the whole bloody world hates you—you’re an evil-hearted, callous, cold—”

  “Frosty bitch, right? Have I covered it all, or was there more?” she asked with eyes twinkling like cut gems.

  Fire raced through my blood. Irritation and annoyance beating at my skull. How was I to deal with this...this thing for the next month? It was impossible. She was impossible.

  “Gods above, fairy, you really don’t have a soul, do you?”

  The leering, sarcastic grin stretching her lips suddenly faded. Her shoulders stiffened, and then she collapsed. I watched it all happen in stunned silence. Shamefully, I wasn’t able to catch her before she fell. Maybe if I hadn’t been so angry, I might have moved faster. Still, the sound of her chin cracking against a buried stone in the ground caused me to grimace in commiseration. That would hurt when next she woke, no doubt.

  I still hadn’t fully believed Hades when he’d told me that this Galeta was nothing but a clone. Not with the ugly looks and evil laughter coming off of her. She’d felt very much real to me.

  But now she was nothing but a crumpled heap of flesh and bones lying before me, looking as dead as dead could be.

  I studied her form. She was slight, as all fairies were. Almost doll-like. But there was nothing sweet or kindly about this fae. She had thorns and spines that pricked. She was god-awful to be around, and I felt absolutely nothing when I looked upon her other than an immediate revulsion at the remembered sensation of her touch.

  The wrongness of her had coated my flesh in prickled disgust. Flicking at imaginary pieces of lint on my arms, I shuddered.

  “How am I supposed to rescue you when I can hardly bear to be around you? Lover indeed,” I scoffed.

  “You’re not to concern yourself with that one,” a sultry, feminine voice said, causing me to twirl on my heel.

  Calypso, elemental goddess of all waters, stared back at me with an open and honest look, a far cry from the haughty disdain she’d shown in front of everyone else at the gathering.

  Of the three gods, she was the very last one I’d expected to show up here. Alone. Her moods were infamous, and her misandry for any males but her own was legendary. Of all the elementals, Father had warned me never to petition Calypso for anything save for only the direst of circumstances.

  Dressed in a gown built of clear water that ran with movement from the sensual glide of colorful betta fish within, she inhaled deeply and then tossed out her arms as though to encompass our surroundings.

  “Welcome to Nox.”

  I frowned. “Nox?”

  This land was dark, not empty exactly, or even foreboding in the way the haunted forests surrounding Mother’s castle were. There were large pines dotting the grassy terrain. A full, silvery moon that was so large it appeared to encompass nearly all of the night hung in the sky. And dark shadows of birds in flight circled above. Nox was macabrely alluring.

  She shrugged, causing her octopus tentacle of hair to undulate smoothly across her pale shoulder. “Night. Perpetual night. This is your home for however long it takes you to fix her. The Blue is far too unstable to remain in day hours for long, so we’ve rigged the game for you both so that when she is in there, you won’t be required to remain long. I’m sure my husband told you that your true test lies in here?”

  Looking up at the pitch-black sky bejeweled with millions of stars, I nodded slowly. There wasn’t much to Nox. Nothing to entice me to stay, at any rate. I looked back to the goddess.

  She had her hands clenched and was giving me a strange look, one that chilled me to my bones because if I hadn’t known better, I’d almost swear that she looked nervous.

  But when was the water ever nervous? Calypso was said to fear nothing and no one. Even I had heard of what she’d done against Zeus to save Hades. She was an elemental. That meant she was an original creation. Coming before the Olympians and even the Titans.

  Long after the world faded, she would remain.

  Twisting her lips, she sighed again, and this time I knew I’d not been mistaken. The goddess really was nervous. I bit down on my molars. I wasn’t sure I should have gotten involved in any of this.

  “Aphrodite was supposed to be here for this. I don’t usually speak with the males. I’m more inclined to drown you than save you, truth be told.” She snorted as though tickled. I didn’t share in her humor, which instantly caused her crooked smile to slip. “I’m failing miserably at this, aren’t I?” Inhaling deeply, she shook her head and gave me a tight grin. “Anyway, this was what she told me to share with you. Follow this trail”—her fingers flicked toward her feet and I noted a glowing, golden path I’d not seen before—“and it will lead you to Mirror. Step through, and in it you’ll find Galeta. Or at least we hope you will. What you will find within is a world within a world within a world. She could be anywhere. You need to bring her back. Make her remember who she once was.”

  I frowned. “And just who was she?”

  Because if she was anything like this thing lying at my feet now, I wasn’t sure I was the right man for this job.

  Pausing for several seconds, Calypso’s gaze turned unfocused and far away, and again that strange zip of foreboding skated down my spine. The goddess’s nerves were palpable. My palms began to sweat.

  “I don’t know, Syrith. I truly don’t.”

  “Then if you don’t know, why are we even here?” The moment I asked the question, I knew the answer. She didn’t know.

  And even as I questioned all of this, something deep inside of me felt a tugging, a draw to move down that path. To do as I’d been bid.

  My brows gathered into a tight vee. She shook her head but said no more.

  Having rarely spoken to others in my life outside of my own family, I’d developed an ability to read the tiny micronuances of a person’s countenance. More than nervous, Calypso was uncomfortable. Unhappy, even.

  “You do not want me here,” I said before censoring my thoughts.

  The goddess lifted a sharp brow, her beautiful face scowling deeply for a second and making me wonder if she’d make good on her threat of earlier and drown me where I stood. But though her taloned fingers clenched tig
ht, she did nothing other than stare at me.

  After a heartbeat of time, she inhaled deeply. “I think I see now why you were chosen for this.”

  “Chosen by whom?”

  “Fate. Or something more.” Her pretty features dissolved into one of confused annoyance before she quickly shook her head and smoothed her face into a calm mask once again. “Anyway. It is of no matter what I think or want. All that does matter is that you must go now. We will not call the groups together for the first match until two nights hence, giving you enough time to hopefully find her. Do what you must, Syrith, to rescue that fae, for I have the very real fear that the fate of our world depends upon it.”

  Chapter 8: We’re Not in Kansas Anymore, Toto...

  Syrith

  I stared at the man-sized mirror hanging suspended in the air before me. The looking glass was gilded, and the mirror itself shone with a watery blue sheen of pulsating magic.

  The power pulsing within it was strong, and I was reminded of a tale from nursery books my maid had read to me long ago. Father had brought the book from a place called Earth.

  They were the tales of Kingdom, but all of them twisted and changed. I’d been especially fascinated by the tales of Wonderland.

  Because very little of the book’s Wonderland resembled my own.

  In it, Hatter had been mad and his Alice was no longer his Alice, but a golden-haired child who’d fallen first through a rabbit hole and then a looking glass much like this one now before me.

  Alice’s adventures had been both bizarre and unpleasant at times.

  “Why do you tarry, boy?”

  Turning at the sound of the dulcet voice, I stood frozen and gape mouthed, staring at a pale, lovely woman with large, downy wings tucked in tight to her side. Glints of gold edging the outer feathers winked even in the dim bit of light coming off the stars above.

  “Why does everyone lately insist on calling me a boy?” I glanced down at myself, studying my long, lean, muscular form with a raised brow. “I can promise you, bird—”

  “Harpy,” she interjected.

  “What?” I frowned, brows bunching.

  Her smile grew radiant, and I thinned my lips. “Harpy,” she said again. “I am a Harpy.”

  “Is that your real name?”

  She shrugged. “I do not know. I think my Creator forgot to give me one.” She laughed, and there was an appealing innocence about her.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  The grin that already stretched her features tight only grew brighter, casting its own radiant glow upon the thick gloom of night. “My, you’re bright. How did you reckon that?”

  Unsure if she was being sarcastic or not, I was slow to respond. “Um... well.”

  She leaned forward, almost on tiptoe, wings extending broadly and fluttering gently, and I could practically taste her expectancy. That hadn’t been sarcasm after all, which begged the question, “How in the blazes have you gotten to be so old and still seem so young?”

  She huffed, fluffing her gown as she shook her wings, causing tiny downy feathers to flutter gracefully down around her. “Rude, boy. I am not so ancient that I do not understand when I am being mocked.”

  She made as if to go, and suddenly I found myself stretching out a hand to restrain her. “I wasn’t mocking you, Harpy. I apologize.”

  Huffing primly, she pursed her lips and eyed me speculatively for a bit before finally saying, “Well, I suppose maybe I lost something in translation. Anyway, my question is the same as before. Why do you tarry?”

  I blinked; the creature was quite astonishing in an odd yet not altogether unpleasing way. She was innocent. But there was also a glow to her, one that felt older and far wiser than she appeared to be.

  How was this Harpy even here?

  “This is my realm,” I said.

  She shrugged again. “Not really. I helped create it.”

  “I thought the goddesses—”

  “Pft.” She rolled her wrist. “They only did as I bade them to.”

  I laughed, but when she didn’t join in, I knew she was quite serious. “Who are you, Harpy, that you can command the gods? How are you even here?”

  Smacking her lips a moment, she tapped a finger to her chin and made soft “hm” sounds beneath her breath, as though considering how best to answer.

  Confused and more than happy to continue to put off the inevitable fall into that looking glass, I waited patiently for her to answer.

  “Well, I suppose I can tell you part of what I am and why I’m here.” Piercing gold eyes turned to me. And though she spoke in a young manner, I felt the weight of the ancient’s stare move through me. This was a creature who’d seen things. Things I could possibly only imagine in my wildest dreams.

  “As you no doubt suspect, I am here for her.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “And you.”

  “Me?”

  She nodded deeply, causing her golden curls to tumble prettily around her slim shoulders. “Indeed.” Leaning in, she cupped her mouth and spoke in a loud stage whisper. “You’re the keys.” Then her eyes widened, and she fluttered her fingers dramatically. “Don’t ask how. But apparently you both are two snowballs tumbling down a massive mountain. It’s bound to be fun.”

  When she grinned, she revealed her only imperfection. A slightly crooked front tooth that was oddly charming and made me grin despite myself. Talking to her was like speaking with a child, one far brighter than they should be, but still a child nonetheless.

  “Indeed. Sounds promising.”

  She laughed. “I did not think I would like you, male. Truth be told, I rarely like you males, with all your belching and passing wind and—”

  Snorting, I couldn’t help but give a hearty belly laugh. “Gods, female, you’re quite the peculiar one.”

  And then I had a thought. Had I already passed through the mirror without realizing it? Was I like Alice from the book, who’d begun to traipse through a world full of bizarre wonders and dangers?

  “No.” She shook her head. “You’ve not walked through the glass. What a foolish boy you are. If you had, you’d already be there, now wouldn’t you?”

  Her blink was full of innocence.

  I, on the other hand, had just realized she’d read my mind.

  She covered her hand with her mouth, eyes going wide. “Oops. Sorry. It tells me I have a terrible habit of doing that.” Then she thumped a fist to her forehead hard several times, muttering beneath her breath.

  Afraid she might be a bit unhinged, I grabbed her arm to stop her from hurting herself further. “If you promise not to read my thoughts again, then I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

  Her smile was beatific. “Swell.”

  All I could do was nod. She was truly a rare bird, this one. “So tell me, Harpy, are you here for long?”

  She’d still not answered a single one of my questions, and I had no plan to answer hers until she gave me something a little more concrete.

  “I’m not. No. I mean, I’ll be fluttering here and there, but you’ll hardly even notice me. Nope, the truth is, male, I’m here to watch and learn.” She touched the tip of her nose with her pointer finger, giving me a look that clearly said we were now in cahoots.

  The thing of it was, I had no bloody idea what she thought we were in cahoots about. “Right,” I said slowly. “You’re to watch me. With her?”

  “Well.” Her eyes bugged, and her lips thinned. “I mean, if you start to sex her, then no, I promise to avert my gaze.”

  I was inhaling just as she’d said that, and now I choked on my own breath. Yanking her hand out of my grip, she thwacked me hard on the back.

  “Goodness me, quite impressive to choke on your own spit, male.” She giggled, and I felt the nerves in my head begin to pinch.

  Taking a few steadying breaths, I nodded. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do. “I doubt I’ll be sexing anyone anytime soon, especially her. I’ve met her once.
She’s the very last female in the world I’d ever fall in love with. But thank you for your consideration, Harpy. I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

  “You’re welcome.” She nodded regally, and I realized she had no idea I had been acting sarcastic then. “And do not judge the fairy too harshly, boy. The one in the games and the one in the mirror are really not at all the same. Much has happened to The Pink to turn her into what you know today.”

  “The Pink?” I shook my head quizzically. “I was told I was here for The Blue.”

  She nodded. “That she is. Now. But it wasn’t always so. You’re here to restore The Pink to herself.”

  Rubbing my temple, I looked back at the glass.

  Why go through all this effort for a fairy everyone hated?

  I hadn’t realized I’d spoken until she answered. Either that, or she’d read my mind. Again.

  “Because you don’t know her as I do.” Her voice was tinged in sadness, an ache so thick and deep that even I felt moved by it.

  Curious for the first time about the fairy that’d caused such a disturbance in the life of so many, I tried to peer through the veil of magic upon the mirror to the woman behind it.

  “How am I to save her, Harpy? How am I to do the impossible?”

  But when I turned, it was to find the space she’d inhabited empty. The only proof of her ever being there was a lone golden feather sitting by my foot. Lips twitching, I bent forward and snatched it up, pocketing the thing if only as a reminder that there were forces at work behind the scenes for a person the whole world had given up on.

  Why?

  It seemed the only way I’d get my answer was to step inside and brave the unknown.

  ~*~

  Galeta

  For days, I’d traveled this strange place. More lost than I could remember. Shivering and cold, and with no wand to warm me.

  This land of perpetual gloom and no sunlight spread out toward infinity, mocking me with each step I took that there’d never be any getting out. I’d walk through one door, and ten others would appear, without rhyme or reason.