Queen of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  “Agreed.” Tarron’s voice sounded wary, and his posture was alert.

  Finally, we reached the top. I turned around to inspect the coliseum below. It was still empty.

  Wind blew my hair back from my face, and the place was eerily silent.

  “It took you long enough.” The voice from my right was oddly high-pitched, with a roll at the end.

  I stiffened, turning.

  7

  About ten feet away, a Satyr stood on two hairy goat legs, his top half naked. A scraggly beard decorated his small chin, and two horns stuck up from his head.

  I stepped forward. “I am Mordaca.”

  He inclined his head. “Fabius.”

  Tarron joined me. “I am Tarron, King of the Seelie Fae. We seek the Guardians of the Eternal Flame.”

  “You and that other bitch.”

  “She’s been here?” I demanded.

  “Whoa, whoa.” He held out his hands, palms facing me. “Don’t get pushy.”

  “I’m sorry.” I stepped back, lowering my voice. “She’s dangerous and we’re trying to stop her from reaching the Guardians. She means them harm.”

  “Oh, I could determine that.” His black eyes glinted. “Sent her the wrong way, I did. And didn’t give her the sight.”

  “The sight?” Tarron asked.

  “It would allow you to see what is truly here.” He gestured to the stadium, and then to the landscape beyond.

  “The people?” I asked.

  “And the magic.” He nodded. “It’s the only way to make it safely to the Guardians. You must be approved and gain the sight.”

  “How do we do that?” Tarron asked.

  “Why, through me, of course.”

  I waited, hoping he would elaborate.

  He didn’t.

  “What do we need to do?” I ventured in my politest voice. It didn’t sound natural on me.

  Fabius scoffed, as if he wasn’t buying my act. But he continued on anyway. “What are your skills?”

  I raised my brows. “A bit of premonition.”

  I considered telling him I was a Dragon Blood and could do almost any magic I wanted, but decided to hold on to that unless absolutely necessary.

  “I am a conjurer and possess the elemental powers,” Tarron said.

  “Ah, quite nice!” His eyes glittered. He held up a hand and showed us two fingers, like a peace sign. “Two things I would like. From you, Tarron, King of the Seelie Fae, I would like the finest golden lyre in the land.”

  Tarron nodded. “Done.”

  “And from me?” I asked.

  “I would like you to find me a lady. A satyress. There is one for me. The gods have told me so. But I haven’t found her yet, and I want to know if I must go somewhere to find her.”

  “You’ll play her your lyre?”

  “And lure her into my bed!”

  Hey, if it worked.

  “I can look for that information.” And I was willing to lie to him if I had to. I didn’t want to, but it would be a small price to pay for saving Tarron and his kingdom. And I could seek him out later to apologize. Maybe even bring Aethelred back to find the lady if I couldn’t.

  “You first,” I said to Tarron.

  He nodded and his magic filled the air with the scent of autumn and the sound of wind whistling through the trees. A moment later, he held a perfect golden lyre, which he handed to the satyr.

  Fabius took it and inspected it, then strummed a tune.

  Instinct made me slap my hands over my ears, and I kicked Tarron. He covered his ears.

  The faint sound of the lyre penetrated my hearing, and I swayed.

  The bastard was trying to enchant us.

  I kicked him hard in the hairy goat thigh, and he stopped, scowling.

  Tentatively, I removed my hands from my ears but kept my gaze on his instrument. “I will kick your ass if you try that again.”

  He harrumphed. “It was worth a try. How did you know?”

  “I didn’t. Common sense. Don’t let some random mythological creature play an ancient instrument. Probably trying to brainwash you.”

  “Real familiar with brainwashing, are you?”

  “You have no idea, pal. Now, are you really going to help us?”

  “If you tell me where my lady is.”

  “I want a blood oath.”

  “Ugh. Fine.” He pulled a little silver dagger from his thigh holster and sliced his arm. I wouldn’t make the same vow with him—not the one I’d made with Tarron. For the satyr to spill blood, it would be enough.

  I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “Well, get on with it.”

  He let the blood drip onto the stones. “I, Fabius the satyr, vow to give you the sight so that you may reach the Guardians of the Eternal Flame. If you tell me how to find my satyress.”

  “Good enough for me.” I closed my eyes and called upon my vision.

  Surprisingly, this was a lot easier than finding the Guardians. Maybe because less was at stake, since I was prepared to lie if I had to. Almost immediately I saw a satyress sitting by the ocean. It gleamed a perfect blue as cliffs towered around her. A strange rock sat next to her, shaped almost like a lamb. Weird.

  I opened my eyes. “I’ve found her.”

  “Where? When?”

  “I don’t know when, but it felt soon. She’s at a strange beach.” I described everything I’d seen, hoping he would recognize it.

  “Ah, Lamb’s Folly Beach.”

  “Yep, that’s the one.” I nodded, trying to look knowledgeable. Really, I was just grateful I hadn’t had to lie. Been doing too much of that lately.

  “Excellent.” He rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “I’ll be off, then!”

  I grabbed his arm. “The sight, remember?”

  “Yes, yes.” He sighed, then waved his hands in front of each of our eyes. Magic sparked from his palm, and my eyeballs felt warm.

  Ew.

  I blinked, my vision rapidly clearing.

  The coliseum was positively packed. Two gladiators fought in the middle, their armor speckled with red blood and gleaming under the sun. The crowd roared and cheered, blood lust in their tone.

  “Ugh.” This kind of fight-to-the-death scenario had always grossed me out.

  The irony didn’t escape me that that’s how I’d met Tarron. But at least I’d chosen to fight. Gladiators often didn’t.

  The crowd nearest us stiffened and turned, as if they finally sensed our presence. Dozens of people dressed in ancient Roman garb stared at us, their brows furrowed.

  “Intruders,” muttered one.

  “Invaders,” said another.

  “Oh, shit.” I looked at Fabius.

  He grinned. “I seemed to have forgotten to mention that they can see you, too, now. And they don’t like outsiders.”

  “You bastard.”

  He shrugged. “But here’s some advice you will want to follow. There’s no reasoning with this lot.” He hiked a thumb toward the people who were beginning to stand and approach us. “But if you truly mean the Guardians no harm, then find the Vestal Virgins. They will save your life.”

  “What?”

  “And avoid the storms, whatever you do. And that’s all!” He turned and sprinted off.

  “The little bastard,” Tarron muttered. He drew a sword and shield from the ether. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Best idea I’ve heard all day.” I called upon my wings, determined to avoid a fight. I needed to save my energy and my power.

  I launched myself into the air, the action coming more easily and effortlessly than ever. Wind tore at my hair as I flew high above the stadium. Tarron followed me, his lightning wings sure and strong.

  Several of the coliseum patrons had wings of their own, and I was surprised to see pointed ears on a few of them.

  “Fae?” I asked Tarron as they approached.

  “It seems so. Ancient ones.”

  “You’d think they’d cut their own kind some slac
k.” I drew an iron blade from the ether for good measure.

  A dark-haired Fae wearing a white toga flew for me, his blue wings more like a butterfly’s than any modern Fae’s wings I’d ever seen. He carried a short sword and round shield. I charged, my blade colliding with his. The sound rang out, and I kneed him in the groin, then pushed off from him. He tumbled off into the distance, and I grinned. That was my new favorite move.

  In the distance, Tarron fought two other ancient Fae, his moves swift and sure. Blood arced from their wounds, falling on the coliseum patrons below, splashing them like morbid confetti.

  “Leave us the hell alone, or I will kill you.” I bared my teeth. “And I’ll enjoy it.”

  The Fae recovered himself, growling and charging. I moved quickly, dodging his blow and slicing my own blade across his neck. Blood spurted and I ducked, keenly aware of my lack of a change of clothing.

  His body plummeted to the ground.

  Finished with him, I whirled on the air and flew off, searching for other attackers.

  Two came from the sides, each headed at me from the opposite direction. One carried a sword, the other a bow. I turned toward the bowman. He drew back an arrow and fired. I raised my shield, letting the arrow crash into the surface. As he reloaded, I stashed my sword and shield back in the ether and drew my own bow. Calling on my dragon speed, I managed to release an arrow right after he did.

  My arrow slammed into his, shattering it. I drew another, firing for his neck.

  The projectile pierced cleanly, and he whirled through the air, tumbling and turning.

  I spun around, nearly face-to-face with the Fae who had been coming from behind. His sword was raised, aimed for my neck.

  A dagger appeared from nowhere, slamming into the Fae’s skull and sending him flying through the air. He crashed to the ground right between the gladiators. The crowd roared and looked up.

  My stomach lurched and my heartbeat thundered. I glanced at Tarron, who had thrown the blade that saved me.

  He’d left his own back open while he’d come to my rescue, and the final attacker was raising a huge axe over his head. This time, the figure was a demon, not Fae. His burnished orange body was supported by ebony wings, and his huge horns jutted toward the sky. Yellow goat’s eyes gleamed malevolently at Tarron.

  My arrow was still nocked. I raised it and released, piercing the demon right through the eyes. He whirled backward.

  I hurtled for Tarron. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  The entire crowd was now looking at us, and there was no telling how many more of them could fly. I wasn’t interested in finding out.

  “Bad news.” Tarron’s tone sounded dire.

  I looked down and behind, spotting a hundred winged beings rising up from the seats of the coliseum. They did not look pleased.

  “They didn’t like that little kerfuffle,” I said.

  “Fly.”

  Heart thundering in my ears, I did as he said, stashing my weapon back in the ether and shooting away from the crowd that surged after us. Tarron stayed by my side, his powerful wings moving effortlessly, gleaming like lightning.

  “Come on!” Tarron growled.

  I flew faster, occasionally sparing a glance at the figures behind. They were gaining.

  Damn, they were fast. I needed to practice flying more. Make my wings stronger.

  Beside me, Tarron’s magic flared. The scent of autumn filled the air. All around, the clouds blackened. They were worse behind us, thunder cracking and rain forming.

  I looked at him. “Is that you?”

  His brow was twisted in concentration. “It is.”

  I glanced back. The attackers were slowing, the rain and lightning making it harder to fly. They kept coming after us, seeming determined not to stop, but they were slowing. Elation surged in my chest.

  Hell yeah.

  We flew as fast as we could, Tarron’s magic driving our pursuers back. My lungs burned and my wings ached, but we were gaining. Gaining.

  Ahead of us, the sky blackened, even darker than the clouds behind. It turned to midnight, thick clouds roiling and lightning striking.

  “Too much, Tarron!”

  “That’s not me.” Confusion echoed in his voice.

  I turned back to look at our pursuers. If some of them were Fae, they might have control over the elements as well.

  Every single one of them was turning and fleeing, their faces white.

  Holy shit.

  I turned back to the storm ahead. It looked even more dire.

  Definitely deadly.

  Avoid the storms.

  That’s what the Satyr had said.

  And I believed him.

  “We need to find shelter!” I shouted.

  The storm bore down upon us, traveling miles in seconds. The clouds shifted and swayed, seeming to form the head and shoulders of a man, almost. I blinked through the rain, not sure if I was going blind. The wind howled louder and faster, buffeting me in the air.

  “We won’t survive this if we’re caught out in the open!” Tarron shouted.

  I spotted a huge, tumbled pile of rocks down below. A darker section at the base showed where there might be a cave. Lightning stuck, so bright I flinched as it blinded me.

  That cave was our best hope.

  “There!” I pointed and dived, Tarron right behind.

  I flew as fast as I could through the tearing wind, eyes watering and nearly blind. The ground below had turned to mud, and the darkness of the cave beckoned. I flew inside, pulling up abruptly as I nearly ran into the wall.

  Whoa.

  Shallow cave.

  I landed with a stumble and drew my wings back into my body.

  Tarron landed gracefully behind me. “Are you all right?”

  Gasping to catch my breath, I moved to face him. “Yeah.”

  He nodded, the concern on his face fading a bit. He turned to the entrance of the little cave and began to conjure a wooden wall to keep out the pelting rain. His shirt was plastered to the broad muscles of his back, making him look even more powerful than usual.

  When the wall had been created, he turned back to me, inspecting me from head to foot. “No injuries? You’re sure?”

  “Nothing bad.” Thunder shook the cave around us, and I stumbled. “Holy fates.”

  Tarron reached for me, pulling me into his arms. The storm howled outside, feeling like it might destroy the wooden wall that Tarron had created.

  “This is no normal storm,” he muttered against my hair.

  I burrowed into his warmth, trying to absorb some of his strength.

  Normally, I wasn’t into big shows of weakness like this. I liked to stand on my own two feet.

  But I also liked being held by Tarron.

  I was honest enough to admit it. To myself, at least.

  “Storm gods,” I said. “Fabius warned us to stay out of the storms.”

  “We were right to trust his judgment, then.”

  White lightning illuminated the interior of the cave, slipping through the crack beneath the door.

  We stayed like that for minutes or hours, I had no idea. It was probably on the shorter scale, but it felt like ages.

  When the cold water began to seep into my boots, I jerked and looked downward. “We’re standing in three inches of water.”

  Tarron shifted as he looked down. “Four inches now.”

  The water began to rise fast, as if being pushed inside the cave. Maybe that’s what was happening—some angry god was trying to flood us out of our little shelter.

  Or the whole world was flooding.

  The water was nearly to my knees. I looked up at Tarron, panic starting to flutter in my chest. “We need to get out of here.”

  Face white and lips tight, he nodded and released me. Water was to my thighs by the time he’d blasted the wooden wall away with a great gust of wind. Rain roared in, pelting my face like icy bullets.

  He looked back at me. “We’re going to have to f
ight this with the same power its throwing at us.”

  I nodded, drawing in a deep breath as I followed him out into the gale. My heart thundered as the cold rain poured. The water was shallower out here—only to my calves. But rising. The world was indeed flooding. Or at least this part of it.

  The raging clouds roiled above, black and gray, intermittently lit with blasts of lightning. It struck all around, sending shocks of electric currents that traveled through the water. It wasn’t strong enough to knock me out, but eventually one strike might hit close enough.

  Fear like I’d never known iced my veins the way the water iced my skin.

  As we stepped fully out into the storm, Tarron’s magic surged powerfully. The scent of autumn anchored me in the gale.

  He created massive blasts of wind, forcing the rain away from us. Forcing the wind away from us. He met the storm god with equivalent power, his hair whipping in the wind and his green eyes turning black with the effort. His wings flared and his horns appeared.

  My breath came short. I’d never seen anyone look so powerful before.

  I called upon my own magic, slicing my finger and letting the blood flow.

  My Fae power wasn’t like his—no wind or rain or any other element that I could think of.

  But my Dragon Blood magic would allow me to create what I needed. A few droplets of blood dripped into the water at my ankles as I imagined the power of the gale. I used the wind and water around me, drawing strength and inspiration from the storm itself.

  It filled me, whirling in my chest and making me feel like I could float off the ground, carried into the sky. When it had filled me to bursting, I let it blast out of me.

  More wind shot toward the storm. Then the water. I picked it up, imaging it lifting off the ground and shooting back at the massive clouds that hovered above.

  I’d hit the unarmed, faceless storm god with the same thing he’d thrown at us.

  Between us, Tarron and I managed to force all the water off the ground, hurling it back into the sky in massive sheets that would crush us if they fell back to earth. We forced the wind away.

  Exhaustion tugged at me. Magic flowed from my soul, weakening me with every second. This was truly some spectacular magic, the biggest I’d ever created.