Stone and Crow (Veiled Kingdoms: The Lost Fae Book 1)

by Stella Snow

  Melodie put on a burst of speed even though she was already gasping for breath. He was toying with her. This was all just a game to him. The forest was getting thicker, and it was getting harder to see where she was going.

  A group of the black figures appeared in front of her and she veered to the right, trying to loop back to the house. She thought she’d seen a face on one of them this time, but she hadn’t been able to tell for sure.

  A man with red hair stepped out in front of her. She darted left, trying to stay out of reach, when someone more familiar stepped out in front of her. Salathia. Melodie leaped toward her, but her hands passed straight through. She blinked, and Salathia was gone, leaving only the tingle of magic in the air.

  They weren’t real.

  She began running again. He had to be right behind her now. She ducked underneath a branch and tripped over a root, then struggled to her feet again, but she knew she was slowing down. She was already jogging more than she was running.

  There was a group of trees ahead, she flung herself around the largest tree, hoping he hadn’t seen, and tried to stifle her breath. The man had been silent, but she knew he hadn’t given up. She pressed her back against the tree. It was a futile gesture. There was no way he couldn’t hear her with how hard she was panting. Nausea born of panic twisted in her gut.

  “I just need the Stone, Melodie. You could even have your little dryad back if you want her,” he said in a singsong voice from somewhere behind her.

  There was an angry shriek from the opposite direction and Melodie couldn’t help but look back around the tree. The thing was an abomination. It had arms, but it was a snake––if a snake was eight feet tall. Its head was hooded like a cobra and a forked tongue flickered out of its mouth. Its eyes burned red, just like the barghest.

  The creature paused a few yards away from her and hissed, low and angry, puffing up its chest. The skin stretched until it was translucent. Fire whirled inside of the creature. There was a loud pop, then a fireball came spitting out of its mouth directly at her. She jumped to the side just in time, but the smell of burnt hair let her know just how close it had been. The tree she had been leaning against was slowly falling forward.

  She ran.

  “I told you not to kill her, you useless serpent!” the man shouted.

  Melodie did not want to test out whether the snake thing was going to listen to instructions and sped up. The creature closed the distance frighteningly fast. There was no way she could outrun it.

  She slid to a halt and turned to face it. Magic surged from her hands. The earth rippled in front of her and split open with a sound like thunder, but the creature leaped across the trench without slowing down. She crouched down and dug her fingers into the soil. The rush of magic had become something a little more familiar, but this was different. She wasn’t holding back.

  Her magic flooded the soil and vines whipped up from the ground, grabbing at the creature’s limbs. Its claws slashed through the thick vine, barely slowing its progress.

  She turned and ran again. There was another pop, and she weaved through the trees, pushing herself even though she was close to collapsing. The fireball hit a tree to her left and sizzled through it like acid. There was an angry shout behind her and an enraged hiss.

  Avoiding capture seemed impossible at this point. Her legs refused to move faster, and the sudden magic use had drained what little energy she’d had left. She was out of ideas and they were catching up. She wasn’t prepared for this. She wasn’t good enough to fight them off.

  Something grabbed her foot and yanked. She hit the ground face first with no chance to break the fall. All the air was forced from her lungs. Gasping for a breath, she clawed at the forest floor as she was pulled backward. The snake creature flipped her over. She pulled the knife from her waistband and stabbed its stomach, but the knife skid along its skin as though it was stone.

  It wrapped a hand around her throat, cutting off her air supply and dug its claws into the arm holding the knife. A scream bubbled up in her throat, but it couldn’t escape past the iron grip of the monster. She tried to hold onto the knife, but it shook her once, hard, and the knife fell. Spots danced around the edges of her vision.

  “Drop her,” the mercenary said as he walked around the side of the snake. His blood red hair hung in tightly wound braids around his head. When he smiled at her she was reminded of the wolf baring its teeth at her in her dreams. It was him, of course it was him.

  The creature’s grip finally released, and she hit the ground. Her chest and throat ached as she sucked in a desperate breath. Her legs were jello beneath her. Standing wasn’t an option, much less fleeing again.

  The man walked over and knelt in front of her, his yellow eyes glowing in the moonlight. “Where is the Stone?” he asked in a hoarse whisper, his breath spitting against her face with every word.

  “I don’t—know what you’re—talking about,” she croaked in between breaths. Considering the pain in her throat, she was surprised she could talk at all.

  The man pulled a knife from his boot, grabbed the back of her neck to drag her close, and pressed the flat edge against her cheek. “Try again. Where is it?”

  She tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like iron. “I don’t know.”

  The man growled and a shudder of magic seeped into her skin where his fingers bit into her neck. “Then you are of no use to me.”

  He grabbed her throat with both hands and squeezed. She struggled, clawing at his hands, but she was already losing consciousness. Her magic stuttered around her. Tree branches snapped and twisted, but she couldn’t do anything. Spots danced before her eyes as she screamed out a mental plea. She didn’t want to die now, not like this.

  A cold, blue light seared through the air over her head, hitting the man in the shoulder. His nails drug across her throat as he was ripped away by the force of the blow.

  She crawled toward the source of the light. Her vision was still blurred, but she could see at least fifteen people advancing. Esther was in front of them, the godstone held over her head as it poured magic into everyone behind her.

  Someone looped their arm under her shoulder and dragged until she found herself at the back of the group, then dropped her. She pushed up, her hand touching her throat tentatively. She could hear the sounds of fighting, and thought she recognized Esther and John.

  She forced herself to her feet and tried to find Gavriel in the group. She didn’t see him anywhere, just glimpses of half recognized faces.

  Ms. Nancy and three others surrounded the snake. She whispered something and flung her hand out. Black tar covered its mouth. It clawed at it, trying to scrape it away, but its hands stuck as well. The man to Nancy’s left leaped forward and struck it with his sword. The snake’s tail whipped around, knocking him to the ground, but thick black blood flowed out of the creature where it had been stabbed.

  A growl came from somewhere behind her and she forced herself to turn and face them on shaking legs. The barghest weren’t coming for her though, they were headed straight for the Forgotten. She lifted her hand and pulled on her magic while screaming out a warning, hoping someone would be able to hear her over the fighting.

  The same destructive light she had struggled with in the garden whipped out, lashing the closest barghest and knocking it down. She pushed all of her anger and guilt into the magic, letting the emotions echo through her, amplifying over and over again. She knew she’d be on her knees again in a moment, but she wasn’t going to stop.

  Ethan emerged from the crown and struck down the barghest she had attacked. The two others circled around him. She dropped to one knee, blinking as her head spun and her vision faded in and out.

  The two barghest lunged at Ethan at the same time. One landed on his sword, but the other hit him, its teeth sinking into his shoulder as it took him to the ground. Ethan yelled in pain.

  Melodie crawled toward him, her magic completely spent, and though she tried to scream for
help, she couldn’t make a sound.

  Ethan struggled to get his sword out of the dead barghest, but it wouldn’t budge. He pried at the jaw of the barghest that was biting and jerking at his shoulder, but his hands were slippery with his own blood.

  Melodie, finally within reaching distance, struck down weakly. Her fist smacked against the creature’s fur without effect. She struck again, still trying to scream for help. No matter how hard she hit, it wouldn’t be enough.

  Peter appeared over them, grabbed the barghest with a roar, and threw it against a tree. It hit the trunk with a crack and fell limp to the ground.

  Ethan’s shoulder was a mess of blood and exposed bone. Melodie knelt next to him and grabbed his hand. He looked up at her, his eyes wide with fear.

  “Ethan!” Esther screamed. She shoved Melodie away from him and leaned over him, brushing her hand down his face and promising him that it would be okay.

  Melodie hadn’t even realized that the fighting had all but stopped. She could see half the group pursuing the outnumbered, fleeing mercenaries. Rachel was among them, her sleek black hair glinting in the light of the moonlight. The rest were gathered around Ethan and Esther.

  The snake lay dead on the ground along with other bodies. Melodie couldn’t tell if they were Forgotten or mercenary. She couldn’t quite process what she was seeing, and definitely not what she was feeling. Esther turned around after someone pointed at Melodie, her eyes burning with rage. Blood streaked Esther’s face and she stood, her sword in her hand.

  Melodie looked at Esther’s face and wondered if she was going to die after all.

  Chapter 25

  “You’ve had a relic this entire time,” Esther commented, her voice snapping with each word. “And not only a relic, but the Stone. The same cursed piece of rock that stranded the Founders here centuries ago.”

  Melodie looked up sharply. She had always heard that no one knew how the gate had been closed the first time during the Great Unsettling. She cursed Salathia in her head for being absent while she had to deal with the fallout of her lies. She wanted to sink into the ground and disappear entirely. Everything was falling apart.

  “You cannot stay here, and I can offer you no protection,” Esther said, her face betraying no emotion or regret, even the anger from moments ago had fallen away.

  “That’s it? You’re kicking me out?” she asked, her voice cracking at the end.

  “You are banished,” Esther said.

  Melodie’s skin paled. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears so loudly she was sure everyone else could hear it too. Ethan’s head was turned toward her, but he wasn’t moving. She couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. Catherine was staring at her with a mix of triumph and hate.

  “You have brought death to us. War is coming, the reappearance of a relic always means war. You will leave the lands we protect. If I could give you the choice of going back to the Sidhe or staying here, I would. If the gate reopens, I will allow you passage through it.”

  “I don’t have anything,” Melodie pleaded with her. “No money, no way to protect myself, and Salathia—”

  She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Panic crawled up her throat, choking her. Visions of how this year was supposed to go flashed through her mind. Get a job, save money for college, and then her dreams were supposed to come true. She was going to settle down somewhere and make friends. Get a boyfriend. Then she had found out she had a family; it was going to be everything she had ever wanted. She curled her hand into a fist and dug her nails into her palm.

  “Salathia’s truck is still at the house,” she said as Melodie stood. “We will be hunting down the mercenaries. Not for your sake, but it should give you time to run, regardless.”

  “Do you think she’s dead?” Melodie asked.

  Esther hesitated, but still responded. “We haven’t found her body, but that may not mean much.”

  Melodie walked away as quickly as she could and prayed Gavriel was still alive.

  The first step out of the forest was like waking up, only to find the nightmare was real. Broken windows dotted the side of the house, the jagged glass jutting out like teeth. It was unnaturally dark inside. The warmth of family and familiarity had been burned away by magic and death.

  Sprinting across the back yard, she ducked through the open door. Her foot smacked against a still-warm body. Jumping back, she slammed against the door jamb as she choked on a scream. In the darkness she was only able to see the outline of someone on the floor. It was impossible to tell who it was––or if they were still alive.

  She scrambled for the light switch, needing to make sure it wasn’t Gavriel. The sudden change blinded her, but she let out a sob of relief when her eyes adjusted, and she could see that none of the bodies had his long black hair.

  Heart pounding in her chest, she edged her way toward the hallway. Glass crunched under her foot and she stopped, glancing down to see what she’d stepped on. It was the family picture she’d seen the first day she’d arrived here. Esther’s face stared up at her accusingly.

  Tearing her gaze away before the guilt could overwhelm her, she ran the rest of the way, desperate to be out of the house. The open doorway to her bedroom sent a chill down her spine, but she plunged through it without hesitating. Her backpack sat on her bed where she’d left it. She grabbed it and her violin, then climbed out her window and sprinted to the guest house. The sun was setting already, taking the comfort of daylight with it.

  The door slammed against the wall as she pushed inside. The windows were broken out in here too. Someone had emptied the cabinets, flipped over the couch, and ripped every picture off the wall. They’d been in here searching for the Stone.

  Salathia’s keys lay on the floor of her bedroom amidst a hurricane of clothes that had been tossed in every direction. Melodie grabbed them and stared at the keys for a moment. She’d never taken the truck without permission before. There was no one to give her permission now. No one to protect her or tell her what to do.

  Swallowing down the fear, she tightened her grip on the keys. Right now, all she could do was get out of here. Maybe she could get the Stone. She took a shaky breath and ran for the garage.

  Salathia’s truck was exactly where it should be. Her fingers fumbled with the keys as she slid to a stop next to the driver side door. It took three shaking breaths to unlock it, but only one to yank the door open, climb inside, and dump her bags in the passenger seat. She locked the door as soon as she got it shut, even though that was a useless gesture against what she was facing.

  The sound of the engine roaring to life seemed deafening, like a howl announcing where she was. She flung the gear shift into reverse and backed out, whipping the truck around quickly. Her headlights didn’t extend much past the edge of the road giving the surrounding forest an eerie glow as she drove away.

  She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to breathe through the panic enough to remember how to get to the Stone as she drove through the subdivision. Waiting for Gavriel wasn’t an option, no matter how much she wanted to.

  Chapter 26

  Forest gave way to town, then to forest once again, as she retraced the route they had taken on their frantic escape over a week earlier. The farther she got from the Forgotten, the easier her breaths came. The mercenaries hadn’t descended on her immediately. There was a chance they didn’t know where she was at all. Maybe Esther had managed to kill them all.

  The unmarked road she needed to turn on had to be close. She watched the forest intently for any gap in the trees, but still didn’t see the narrow road until she had driven past it. Slamming on her brakes with a curse, she threw the truck in reverse and sped back to the road. She wished more than anything that it wasn’t nighttime––she couldn’t even contemplate the walk she about to have to take.

  The old truck bumped down the dirt road and she cursed it once again. It was so noisy she might as well have hired a marching band to announce her presence. The road took several sharp
turns and she held her breath as she rounded each corner, expecting to see a flash of red or a barghest standing in the middle of the road. When she had driven as far as she could, she put the truck in park and rested her forehead against the steering wheel.

  Melodie couldn’t remember a time she had ever felt this utterly alone, even as the new kid in so many schools. There was no one left who was willing, or able, to help her. Everyone that cared about her might be dead.

  With a steadying breath, she leaned over and yanked the glove box open, digging through it until she found the dingy old flashlight that they kept in there. The battery was still good somehow, though the light it produced was weak. She turned off the truck with shaking hands and climbed out with a flashlight that was probably going to run out of power at any moment.

  Now that the truck was off, her breathing seemed to echo off of the trees. Tightening her grip on the flashlight, she took off at a run, unable to walk to what felt like certain death. The beam dimmed before she’d gotten twenty yards from the truck and she picked up her pace. She wasn’t even halfway there yet. The light faded until it was so weak she couldn’t see more than a foot in front of her. A moment later, it disappeared entirely. Coming to a complete stop, she stood in the darkness trembling. She knew she could make a light, but her magic felt absent.

  Gavriel had said over and over that panicking made you weaker. She replayed his lesson in her mind and whispered, I am not afraid. Holding her hands out in front of her, she reached for the tentative thread of magic that she knew had never really left. It was there. Weak and aching, but there.

  The magic twisted and stuttered along with her determination, but a faelight formed in her hand. After a moment, it grew into something she could see by. Still cautious it might vanish, she lowered her hands, letting it bob in front of her. It hovered close by, as though it was afraid to venture out too far. She took a step forward and it moved with her. It was still a surprise every time her magic actually did what she wanted.