Spirit of the Fae

by Linsey Hall

  “There’s something special about them.” I could feel it in the magic that vibrated within their bodies. “But if more reapers appear?”

  “Their magic is stronger together. They may very well approach.”

  I swallowed hard, praying that more wouldn’t find us. My muscles were so tense from worry that one punch could have shattered me.

  When the beautiful city appeared on the horizon, I blinked.

  “It’s inside a dome,” I said. “I didn’t see that in my vision.”

  The crystal dome glittered under the pale light of the setting sun. Within, ornate structures rose almost to the roof of the dome. They were gold and silver and pale ivory—not the flat, opaque white of the rest of this realm.

  “The dome must protect the city.” I looked behind me, inspecting the forest for more threats. “From the reapers, but from what else?”

  “All kinds of monsters lurk in these woods, according to myth. Red caps, reapers, hags.”

  Before I could ask what those things were, the stag picked up the pace, and I held tight, my back straight and senses alert.

  As we neared, more details became noticeable. On the other side of the dome wall, there was a gleaming blue river surrounding the city. The buildings themselves were so elaborately decorated that they looked like they’d been built of delicately spun sugar.

  It was beautiful and eerie all at the same time. As the stag trotted down the lane toward the city dome, a gate soared in front of us. Golden and ebony, it was both beautiful and terrifying. Spikes decorated the entire thing, a clear threat. Two guards stood at either side, but we were so far away that they were just blurs.

  Tarron glanced at me. “If they attack, run.”

  “Will you run?”

  His mouth flattened. “Just run.”

  “I don’t want you staying behind to protect me.”

  Something flashed in his eyes—anger, fear, heat. “I will not lose you.”

  “Likewise.” I glared at him.

  Emotions ricocheted between us, but neither of us spoke. We turned to face the guards and trotted forward on our mounts.

  We were nearly to the guards when I stole a glance at Tarron. The emotion had drained from his face and his features had gone flat and serious. His straight shoulders and regal bearing made it clear that he was royal.

  I drew in a breath and settled into myself. All I had to do was act like Mordaca.

  This was easy.

  As we approached, I gave the guards my most regal stare—cold, but not freezing. The guards were both tall and slender, with long black hair and bright blue eyes. Their armor was black and gold, decorated with twisting inscriptions that looked like Celtic knots. Each held a long spear tipped with an obsidian blade, and the magic that emanated from them made their power obvious.

  These guys were strong.

  And I was nearly powerless.

  I drew in a steadying breath.

  No, I wasn’t.

  I was Mordaca. I was a queen.

  I leveled a serious gaze on them, then raised a brow.

  They glanced between us and the stag, then looked at each other. I could just barely catch the sound of their words, but their tones sounded impressed.

  “They ride the stags of royalty,” whispered one.

  “Open the gates,” said the other.

  Quickly, they leaned their blades against the gray stone wall and moved toward two huge levers, one on each side of the gate. They pulled them at the same time, and the gate rose silently.

  Tarron and I shared a glance.

  He nodded.

  I nudged my stag with my ankles, and the animal trotted through. We entered an enormous courtyard surrounded on all three sides by beautiful buildings. It was some kind of market square, and the color within was wild.

  No longer were we in a pale white world of death and nothing. It was almost like we were back on earth. The buildings themselves appeared to be built of gold, ivory, and silver. The bricks were imbued with a glow that was almost eerie.

  Shops of all sorts surrounded us—food, flowers, weapons, tools. Most of it was unfamiliar. I’d never seen such blooms, though the rowan berries were distinct. Whether alive or dead, the Fae loved them some rowan berries.

  The people who ran the shops all leaned out of their doorways, looking at us with wide eyes that flicked between us and our mounts.

  There was something about these animals that made them more than just a convenient ride.

  Tarron turned his mount with ease so he could inspect the entire square. I mimicked his motions, though it was the stag doing most of the work. I wasn’t much of a rider.

  Five Fae approached us, walking in a V formation with one Fae at the lead. Each was dressed more fabulously than the next. Three men and two women, all wearing some kind of floor-length cloak that glittered with a dark light that shined black and white all at once, the strangest effect. Their wings matched their jewel-toned clothes—one red, blue, green, orange, and yellow.

  The leader wore green, which matched her eyes. Her eyes were so brilliant that I could have plucked them out and worn them as emerald rings, and no one would have known the difference. She was beautiful, with gleaming emerald hair that matched her eyes and dress.

  There was something strange about these Fae, though…

  Ah, right. They weren’t transparent like we were. No one else was.

  Obviously, they were meant to live here forever.

  It gave me hope, since we were not. I wanted to be different from these Fae.

  The five of them reached us and inspected us in silence.

  I raised a brow.

  Finally, the leader spoke. “We were not expecting royalty.”

  “We weren’t expecting to be here,” Tarron said. “But since we are, we would like an audience with your king and queen.”

  The Fae inclined her head. “You’ll find that they are waiting for you.”

  “How long have they known we were in their realm?” I asked, wondering if they’d sent the reapers after us.

  “Since you approached the border of our lands, at the edge of the forest,” said the leader.

  So they hadn’t known about us for that long, since we’d left the forest recently. At least they hadn’t sent the shadowy reapers after us. Not that that meant they were our allies.

  “Come.” The woman gestured, and we followed.

  The stags walked sedately behind the five Fae, and I inspected the city as we passed through it. Since I had no idea how the meeting was going to go down, it’d be best to be prepared to escape and run for it, if necessary.

  We passed winding streets and fabulously decorated buildings, as well as dozens of curious Fae.

  Finally, we reached a soaring castle. That was one thing you could count on in a Fae kingdom—a really big freaking castle. They loved their displays of wealth and privilege, and boy, was it in abundance here.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be the Queen of Death.

  The stags stopped right in front of the massive staircase that led up to the castle. Huge wooden doors were beautifully carved with twisting vines and roses. Silver and gold inlays highlighted the flowers. The rest of the building was just as ornate.

  Hundreds of windows glittered with glass and candlelight, with dozens of little balconies protruding. Like Tarron’s home, it was a castle built for show rather than defense.

  And fates, was it working.

  I dismounted, giving the stag one last pat of gratitude. It trotted off. Tarron’s animal followed.

  We turned to the Fae in the green dress, and she gestured us forward.

  I kept my shoulders back and my chin high as I climbed the stairs and entered the enormous entry hall. The ceiling soared hundreds of feet above, faerie lights twinkling in the rafters. The air smelled of flowers and fruit, and I vowed not to eat the tempting stuff.

  Getting stuck here with magical Fae fruit would be literally the opposite of my goal.

  Tarron
stood close by my side.

  “This way.” The leader gestured us forward.

  We followed her through the foyer and into an enormous throne room. It was long and fantastically decorated, with white flame candles in sconces all along the walls. Chandeliers with thousands of candles hung from the ceiling, faerie lights glittering around them like crystals.

  Though it was beautiful, there was something in the air. The prickle of a threat. I shivered, deeply uneasy.

  Two thrones sat on the far side, but they were empty. Instead, the king and queen stood in front of an enormous hearth that blazed with green fire.

  A face hovered within, speaking quickly.

  That was handy.

  Could it contact someone on earth? Maybe I could use it to speak to Aeri if I needed to.

  The king and queen turned to us, heads tilted in interest. The queen wore a gown that looked like it had been poured from liquid silver.

  Nice.

  I was rarely jealous—it wasn’t really my thing. But that dress looked fab. It matched her silver hair perfectly, gleaming and bright. She was beautiful in a cold way, with sharp features and pale skin. Her blue eyes were keen as they assessed Tarron and me.

  The king was more enigmatic. He was a slender man, dressed entirely in black. His dark hair swept back from his forehead, revealing pointed ears decorated with silver earrings. His dark eyes flashed as he inspected us, and his jaw hardened.

  I didn’t like the look of that.

  I straightened my shoulders.

  Our guide bowed low, her dark cape shimmering under the light of the chandeliers. “Your Majesties. These are the Fae royals who rode in upon the royal stags.”

  “How fascinating.” The queen strode forward, her gown swishing about her legs. “We haven’t had a royal here for centuries.”

  “We weren’t intending to visit,” Tarron said.

  “No one ever is.” She smiled. “But isn’t that the point of death?”

  “We are not dead.” I strode toward her and stuck out my hand. “I am Mordaca, Blood Sorceress and Queen of the Unseelie Fae.”

  The Fae looked at my hand, then reached for it and shook. We were able to make contact, and she said, “We don’t do this here. The hand thing.”

  “It’s polite in our realm.”

  “The Queen of the Unseelie?” the king asked. “I hear she’s a real piece of work.”

  “That would be my mother, the false queen.”

  “Ohhhh.” The queen’s brows rose. “Drama.”

  “Indeed.”

  Despite her friendly nature, there was a coldness to her gaze that made me nervous. Same with the king. This wouldn’t be a quick chat and cup of tea that resulted in our immediate release, I was sure of that.

  Tarron stepped forward. “Tarron, King of the Seelie Fae.”

  The king and queen nodded at him.

  “And the two of you get along, then?” the queen asked.

  “We do,” I said. “And we’d like to leave here.”

  She laughed, a bright sound. “No one leaves here.”

  “We are going to,” Tarron said. “Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement.”

  “You have nothing to offer us,” the king said. “You may have been royal in your realms, but here, you are dead. And that makes you our subjects.”

  Shit. This was not going well.

  “We aren’t dead though.” I gestured to my form. “We’re only partially transparent. Alive.”

  I would not admit to being dead.

  “And injured, from the look of it.” The queen’s gaze flicked to my arm and Tarron’s shoulder. “That will kill you, eventually.”

  “Is that how everyone comes to stay here permanently?” Tarron asked.

  “Most, yes.” The queen nodded. “We are in one of the realms of death. Only some Fae come here—those with unfinished business on earth.”

  That described me perfectly.

  “But none ever leave,” the king said. “The lucky ones find us. They must make their way past the reapers and survive, but if they reach the gates of the Court of Death, they may live here.”

  “Just as you may live here,” the queen said.

  No way in hell. I had a feeling she thought she was making me a pretty good offer, but I sure as hell didn’t want to take her up on it.

  “We have unfinished business that will save countless lives,” Tarron said.

  The queen frowned. “How many?”

  “Thousands,” Tarron said.

  Assuming my mother continued on her vendetta—which it seemed she was determined to—there would indeed be thousands of Fae newly dead and looking for somewhere to go.

  “You know,” I said. “Your city seemed very full. Could it accommodate a mass influx of newly dead Fae?”

  Both the king and queen frowned.

  Oh please, let this work.

  We had nothing to bargain with except this.

  “How can we trust you?” the queen asked.

  “I wouldn’t lie to a fellow royal.” I made my voice sound aghast. I would definitely lie to you. I smiled. “But if you like, you can consult with a seer. See what fate awaits the Seelie Kingdom. You’ll have to clean up the mess when they all arrive here.”

  The queen grimaced, then held up a finger. “Give us a moment.”

  They retreated toward the fireplace, where the face had disappeared. I shared a glance with Tarron, but his expression was unreadable. He had his king cloak on, figuratively speaking, and it was obvious.

  I caught snippets of their conversation. “Can’t accommodate that many…only a few at a time…let Ankou and the reapers deal with them…perhaps we can use these two…”

  Use us?

  How?

  From the looks on their faces, the king and queen seemed enamored with this idea.

  But what would they be using us for?

  Tension crawled across my skin as I waited, breath held.

  Please, please, please.

  Finally, they returned to us.

  “We have a problem, it seems,” the queen said.

  No kidding.

  “You are correct that our realm could not accommodate thousands of newly dead people,” the king said. “If that many are killed unexpectedly in an attack by the false queen, most will have unfinished business.”

  “They’ll come here. And it will be a disaster.” The starkness of the queen’s voice made me hesitate.

  “How so?” I asked.

  “Those who cannot fit in our city will be taken by Ankou and his reapers. Once that happens, their souls will disappear.”

  I frowned. “No afterlife at all?”

  “None.”

  Worse than death. Worse than anything.

  Shit, we really needed to get out of here and stop the false queen.

  The king frowned, something flickering in his eyes that I couldn’t identify. “But we cannot just let you leave.”

  “It sounds like you’re going to have to,” Tarron said.

  “We can’t,” the king said. “You will have to earn your way out through a series of challenges.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “There are several weak spaces in our realm that join it with earth,” the queen said. “Some weaker than others.”

  Like Aethelred’s house. I stocked that info away in case it could come in handy later.

  “In order to pass through the weak spaces,” the king said. “You must face a series of challenges. For one, you must get your powers back. And you must have the resurrection stone. These things can only be obtained in the outer realm of death.”

  “The white world beyond the dome,” I said.

  The queen nodded. “Indeed.” She pointed to my shoulder. “Not to mention that wound there. It is a mark of death. You must heal before you can cross over, or the journey will kill you.”

  “So we have a big to-do list,” I joked.

  “You do. And should you manage to complete all of the c
hallenges—which I highly doubt, given the likelihood of your true demise should you try—we will only allow one of you to leave.”

  She was serious as the grave there.

  And it was exactly what Aethelred had said. He’d only seen one of us escaping.

  I flicked a glance at Tarron. He frowned, clearly thinking of what Aethelred had predicted.

  All the same, I refused to believe it.

  We’d cheated death once.

  Almost.

  We’d do it again.

  We had to.

  4

  The king and queen dismissed us, with plans to reconvene the next day to discuss our upcoming tasks. I wanted to complain—to get started right away—but exhaustion tugged at me.

  Despite the fact that I was half dead, I still had all the bodily limitations of being alive. Lame.

  Tarron and I were led from the room by a small Fae woman with deep amethyst hair and blue eyes.

  Next to me, Tarron rubbed his shoulder. “This is definitely a problem.”

  I looked down at my arm, which ached where the black shadow stained my transparent limb.

  The Fae woman turned back to us, her blue eyes interested. Her dress was the same sapphire as her eyes, and it shimmered in the light. Her wings matched her amethyst hair, and she looked like a sparkling jewel.

  “You have just arrived?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “But we won’t be staying for long.”

  She laughed as if it were a brilliant joke and winked. “Right.”

  “Well, we’re leaving. Soon.”

  Her jaw dropped a little, and she spoke in a hushed whisper. “The challenges? You are going to attempt the challenges?”

  “Yes.”

  She whistled low under her breath. “No one has survived those.”

  “We’re already dead,” Tarron said. “Mostly. What’s worse than that?”

  “Your soul can be extinguished forever, of course.”

  “It’s not just the reapers that can extinguish our soul forever?” Tarron asked.

  “No.” She shook her head. “If you die during the challenges, you’re gone. Forever.”

  Shit. The king and queen hadn’t mentioned that. Why the hell hadn’t they mentioned that?

  Maybe because they wanted to use us for something. I’d caught that snippet of their conversation, but hadn’t heard enough to figure out their end goal.