by Alexia Purdy
He sat up elated with his newfound direction. He would find Shade and see what she was all about. Aveta might’ve failed to keep her captive and use her magic, yet if Arthas could woo her, he could tilt the powers of Faerie in his direction once more. A satisfied smile crept across his face, knowing what he had to do now. Soon, he would awaken the Spring Ancient, Rowan. She wouldn’t be a full ally, but she wouldn’t oppose his wrath like Kilara had. The weaker of the two sisters, he’d siphon her power until he could obtain the halfling. Nothing would stop him now. Once Kilara was bound to him, she would get her pay back for his own imprisonment. The full power of Faerie was closer now than ever, and its sweetness made him eager to start right away.
Shades of Vengeance
ARTHAS WATCHED THE halfling through the scrying mirror. She was beautiful, for a mortal. What was it about her that consumed the faeries she encountered? He saw how infatuated every male she met became at her mere presence. His smooth lips upturned as he watched her pace the summer palace balcony, frustrated with life entombed in the castle of her heritage. Her long, dark brown hair lay like a blanket of silk across her shoulders and down her back. She had matured since her ordeal with Aveta. Though his granddaughter had failed to harness Shade’s magic, he was sure it would not be the last time Shade would be within the walls of The Withering Palace. He would make sure of it.
It made him cringe to think that Aveta had her tortured by her whiny servant Darren. He curled his fingers tightly, cutting into his palms until a warm trickle of crimson stained his thigh. His anger surged within him once more and a resolve to off the Teleen warrior if it was the last thing he did. The faery was treacherous, betraying his own kin and enslaving Shade to his brother Dylan. Arthas would love nothing less than having him tortured too. Aveta should have done the dirty deed herself. He loathed her even more at the thought of her laziness. In the future, he knew it would please Shade to no end to have Darren slaughtered. Arthas would withhold his wrath on the Teleen traitor for now. This, he would gladly do for her.
Shade will be mine, he thought.
Watching her pause to lean over the banister to the sway of fruit trees below made him relax. Her presence would be soothing to him, he could sense it already. The heat of summer seemed to flow out of the mirror from her essence and bleed over his skin. He couldn’t wait to meet this princess. Kilara had nothing on her. He wondered if the Summer Ancient would be jealous of her descendant. Kilara was not an envious woman, she radiated warmth and love. Her pure soul made Arthas frown at the thought of her. He’d been interested in her, but she had already been with Corb, the Winter Ancient. He’d yet to find a faery to match wits with, but she would be quite the challenge if she even liked him. The Spring Ancient was by no means beautiful, but they hated each other. It had a lot to do with the fact that she was Kilara’s sister. Rowan was more wary of Arthas than anyone else. They had never gotten along, and nothing was going to change that anytime soon.
No matter, he would steal Shade away to find Kilara and slit her throat before she could even protest. After that, her lover Corb would find his end. Rowan might submit to his power but he’d have to wait and see. He still didn’t trust her but he needed another Ancient to complete his ultimate reign of the Land of Faerie. He was looking forward to their demise with every morsel of his soul.
A flash of white dragged his attention back to the mirror. Shade was talking to someone and looking very angry. Arthas shifted his magic to rotate the view to see whom she was speaking to. A faery with hair as white as snowfall and eyes the sheen of mother of pearl shells which were fading to a light, pale blue. Only one faery possessed eyes similar to them. Only one whom shouldn’t be anywhere near Shade, it would ruin everything.
Corb.
The damn Ice King was in the Southern realm? But why? What was his agenda there and why was the princess ordering him around like a common slave?
Arthas slammed his fist on the table before he paced the room, his mind flooded with theories of what Corb might be doing there. His realm was the freezing cold, not the scorching, hot weather of the Scren Palace. There had to be some sort of explanation, a good reason for such a mess. He was determined to discover it before anything else.
Glancing back into the mirror, he spied what he was looking for. A silver snake wrapped around one of Corb’s wrist. It small accessory but Arthas knew better. It was a binding seal, the only kind of magic that could bind an Ancient to another faery. The only way to bind an Ancient was if the Ancient allowed it. Why had Corb bound himself to this girl?
He tensed and shoved away from the table once more. The situation was growing more and more complicated as time went on and he’d lost so much ground already. Closing the scrying mirror, he headed for the door.
“Get Aveta, tell her she had better get down here immediately or I’ll have her fingers one by one.” He hissed at the guard waiting at the door to his chambers. The guard bowed and turned to run down the hall, disappearing around the corner. Guards had been running quite a bit here lately, thanks to Arthas and Aveta’s constant struggle. He was going to need her for what he had planned now.
The exhilaration of the coming tasks made his blood boil. He couldn’t wait to show the other Ancients just what kind of chaos he could unleash on the world to affect them all. Human and faery alike.
The Fall of Faerie
“HOW MANY DID you bring?”
“I brought everyone that I could find. I told you, it won’t be nearly enough to completely sabotage the wards.” Aveta’s irritation flooded her voice and Arthas was making her even more frustrated than her agitation over losing Corb as one of her lieutenants. Where the hell was he? How dare he desert her and her army? They’d been almost leaderless had it not been for Vange. Aveta had no military organizational skills and cringed at the thought of having to lead her deadly soldiers. Vange had taken control of the Unseelie Army and shifted the legions west, where they were to fight against the defense legion from the Glass Castle. Prince Lotinar and Queen Zinara had been extremely busy−their own armies meshed into one so vast, the sluagh and Unseelie alike had to pull forces from all sides of Faerie for this confrontation.
And in the middle of this mess, Arthas has pulled her from her kingdom and the comfort of her home, the Withering Palace, to drag her to the borders of Faerie. His plan wouldn’t work, not without more witches involved. She scanned her eyes over the ten she had gathered; some were not as powerful as others, merely apprentices. The sad bunch looked more like misshapen villagers than anything else. Only a handful had enough magic to compensate for the ones that lacked the strength to complete the spells. The others were there for just numbers really. It was looking consequentially bleak.
“I don’t care. Gather them up, I want them working on this border as we speak.” His chest was puffed out as he studied the invisible ward which separated the land of Faerie and the human world. Soon he’ll be able to infiltrate the lands which should be rightfully theirs. Soon, he’d have the world at his mercy.
Aveta waved the witches and wizards forward, urging them to hurry and perform the spells. They gathered together to form a circle near the edge of the wards that hummed along the tree line. Elemental magic was called forth and swirled around like gusts of wind. She wondered how long it would take and just exactly what would happen once Arthas got his wish and broke through all the wards of the boundaries of Faerie. What then? What of the mortal world?
War was coming. She felt it rumbling in her bones and itching across her skin like a sunburn. She wanted the same thing he wanted, but sharing power with him was not the way she’d imagine. Somehow, she had a faint idea what would become of her once she no longer had any use to him. Grandfather or not, she had to figure out what to do about that.
Speaking of the Ancient Unseelie King, she glanced in his direction to find him doing his own part to crumble the border. He called forth magic from the deepest realms of Faerie, furrowing his brows as he concentrated it in his hands to s
end into the wall just beside him. Aveta knew it was time for her to proceed and began calling her own unearthly, dark magic to assist his. Compared to him, she was miniscule, tiny and forgettable. But she wouldn’t think about that now, she was here to prove that she could make the walls of faerie crumble alongside this Ancient. He would not be able to do it without her.
As she sent the majority of her magic into the wall, a loud crack ensued, rumbling the ground and air at once, shaking the earth beneath them. Fear crept in the back of her mind and the hairs on her neck stood straight. She pushed the thoughts from her head and continued to excerpt the power needed. The witches continued to chant, their elemental magic infusing into hers and Arthas’ power until they were all but exhausted and the last shatter echoed across the sky as the wall fell before their feet.
Arthas stood panting, his broad chest heaving as he looked out, past where the border had once stood and into the city bustling with cars, skyscrapers and people. They would remain invisible for now, but the faeries would be able to infiltrate the city without resistance, where before, an entire army of Unseelie sluagh would’ve been unable to cross in its entirety.
“It worked! We have to move to the next portion of the wards and get them down as soon as we can.”
Aveta had collapsed to her knees, exhausted, depleted. She shook her head and croaked out her response, “We can’t right now, we’re all powerless. We have to rest before we pull another ward down.” She felt faint, the land spun as she squeezed her eyes to try and focus on the Ancient.
He didn’t look happy, but one look at Aveta and her band of poor excuses for witches, and he knew she was right. They were completely flattened, some had passed out on the floor from the efforts and some could barely stand as they wobbled in their spots, pale and exhausted. He didn’t like it, but for now they would rest.
“Fine. Rest for the evening, tomorrow we pull down more northern wards.” He turned and felt for the ward’s magic with his own. Only patches remained where it had once been solid. It irritated him to no end to find it not completely crumbled, but it would do for now. Staring greedily toward the city, he was ready as ever to take on the world. “Tomorrow, be ready. I will have all the world in my grip.”
About the Author
Alexia currently lives in Las Vegas, Nevada—Sin City! She loves to spend every free moment writing or playing with her four rambunctious kids. Writing has always been her dream, and she has been writing ever since she can remember. She loves writing paranormal fantasy and poetry and devours books daily. Alexia also enjoys watching movies, dancing, singing loudly in the car and eating Italian food.
Copyright Information
Evangeline
(A Dark Faerie Tale #0.5)
Copyright © August 2012 Alexia Purdy
All rights reserved
Published by
Lyrical Lit. Publishing
Cover Design by Alexia Purdy
Cover Photos: © elisanth ~ canstockphoto.com
© enrico01~ canstockphoto.com
Ever Shade
(A Dark Faerie Tale #1)
Copyright © October 2012, April 2013 Alexia Purdy
All rights reserved
Published by
Lyrical Lit. Publishing
Edited by Michael K. Rose and Jasmine Petricola
Cover Design by Alexia Purdy
Photography used with permission and licenses
© Kristinashu & © Fredvl - Dreamstime.com
Ever Fire
(A Dark Faerie Tale #2)
Copyright © 2012 Alexia Purdy
All rights reserved
Published by
Lyrical Lit. Publishing
Edited by Michael K. Rose
Cover design © Alexia Purdy
Cover stock photos:
© Kristinashu / Dreamstime.com
© Can Stock Photo Inc. / rrosentreter
Ever Winter
(A Dark Faerie Tale #3)
Copyright © March 2013 Alexia Purdy
All rights reserved
Published by
Lyrical Lit. Publishing
Cover Design © March 2013 by Alexia Purdy
Photography © Wisky | Dreamstime.com
Edited by Jasmin Petricola & Michael K. Rose
The Cursed
(A Dark Faerie Tale #3.5)
Copyright © March 2013 by Alexia Purdy
Cover Art Design © March 2013 by Alexia Purdy
Photography © Andrei Vishnyakov | Dreamstime.com
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