Whatever chill might have been in the air was mostly warded off by Lord Korka’s magic, so even as high as they were, passing quickly over the land with each beat of Gorgax’s leathery wings, Suri felt none of it, only a strong but tolerable wind. It was as if a dome had been placed over the top of the dragon to shield them from the elements. Suri could not help but think it was for her and Traxan’s benefit; Lord Korka did not seem the type to be disturbed by a cold gale.
They passed over a frozen lake and went between the peaks of mountains, out over large snow covered forests with pine trees the same as Suri had seen out from the window of her small room back at the fortress. Here and there were clearings in the wood of small settlements, villages, one in particular large on the top of a hill with a great wooden wall surrounding it. The creatures that moved below were too small for Suri to make out in the distance, but something about their movements told her they were not human.
Lodum, she realized, is only one, small civilized part of Faerie.
This world was not nearly as domesticated as Earth. Most of it was still in its primordial state, as it had been since its creation.
The snow gave way to babbling brooks, then raging rivers and great grass plains, and forests that began to look more and more like the great golden on outside of Lodum. Gorgax flew on. Hours passed. Suri stared vacantly at the scenery, taking in the passing landscape in the same way that she used to when taking the Cal Train, watching the houses and streets flash by. The puffy shoulders of her wedding dress rippled in the wind, which also caught on the lacy frills at her wrists, making them flutter. Her hair streamed out behind her, curls almost straight by the stiff breeze that Lord Korka’s protective spell allowed through.
Strapped to Traxan’s back was a large, rectangular wooden box, almost as tall as he was. He wore it like a knapsack. Suri did not know what was inside. She could only guess that it was bad news. Something to do with her, she hoped, rather than the poor human souls in Lodum.
Lord Korka’s back was plain in front of her, black metal breastplate large and imposing, partially uncovered when his cape flapped in the wind. Suri did not dare to utter the first words of a spell. It would not be possible to launch an attack with Traxan keeping a watchful eye on her. Otherwise, it would have been a great way to crash the flight to Lodum—with no survivors, if that’s what it took to bring to a screeching halt the plans of her aunt’s killer, and worse, a fae who had turned so deeply to black magic that he had made a pact with an arch demon in the infernal.
Suri could still not believe that her black magic spell had done nothing at all to harm her groom. I never thought I would be plotting to murder my fiancé on the day of our wedding. What has my life become? Is there any hope of salvaging it and going back to the way things used to be?
She had to admit that this was the kind of adventure she always wanted to go on—it was the reason why she had worked hard to graduate top of the class from the Academy in the first place, and why she wanted to join a Guild afterwards: to take part in grand, historical events and even if being only a pawn, to play some kind of a role, any role, she had thought, would be better than sitting at home and leading an inconsequential life, being pulled by forces beyond her control. But now she wanted to go home again, to the quiet life. Maybe get a cottage in the country. Some place that looked like the beautiful forest below. Oregon, she thought, absentmindedly.
After she had her revenge, of course, and this whole bloody thing was sorted out. By black magic, Suri swore, I won’t let them get away with this…Lord Korka, Traxan, the Hellfire Guild…None of them will get through this unscathed.
She was ruminating over how to accomplish this when Lodum came into view. High as they were in the sky, the capital city of Faerie was still large and a sight to behold. The sun was high in the sky, sparkling on the ocean of leaves beneath them, the shimmering sea of reflected light that she had seen from the lift point when she had first arrived at Lodum on the day of the fire.
From this high up Lodum was a sight that took her attention away from the forest below. Its great wall rose higher than the tallest tree of the golden forest. She could see all of the pulleys along the outer wall, pulling the lifts up the great distance from the forest floor, as well as gryphons and lesser dragons flying in the skies below them at the lower altitudes, as high as their smaller wings would allow them to climb.
Gorgax flew straight to the royal palace, the silver spire rising high like a beacon, the tallest point in the city that casted its shadow over everything else at least once during the day. Suri had seen the place from her time transporting packages through Lodum, but she had never been this close, let alone stepped inside the Noble’s District, where the royal palace was located—as far as possible from where the human district had been, and the other poorer parts of the city. The top of its spire was tipped in silver, and it caught the sun, making it almost shine as brightly as the source itself. Suri could not even look at it for long and adverted her gaze, away and down to the rooftop of the main city which were covered in groups of fae, much like on the day of the fire, as if they had been anticipating the arrival of Suri and their new King. They cheered to see the underbelly of Gorgax, his great leathery wings and long serpentine tail, who, only days before, had been carrying the hell spawn who had invaded their city—the jewel of Faerie—and likely killed many of them. It did not seem impossible that these fae were plants, that the rooftops were closely watched by the hell spawn troops and those loyal to Lord Korka to ensure that only those who supported his cause were allowed a public space to show their favor. But then, who would dare to speak out against the new King when he had just marched an army into the walls of Lodum?
Nothing was what it seemed. That was what Suri had come to realize. To her surprise, Lord Korka, who had remained impassive this entire time, sitting as if he were a statue atop Gorgax’s back, raised a gauntleted hand and through their telepathic connection ordered Gorgax to fly lower as they neared the palace.
The great dragon dropped so close to the rooftops that the wind from his beating wings and passing body buffeted the hair and clothes of the waiting fae, who cheered and roared, waving flags and holding up food and gifts, offerings for Lord Korka to take, doing what they could to draw their King’s attention and his favor.
Korka kept his gauntlet raised as if in a stoic, ongoing salute and these fae were his troops. At this low altitude Suri saw just how many fae there were, and in more than just the richer districts. Gorgax, instead of straight to the royal palace, circled around the city, looping in an ever-widening spiral, away from the silver spire, so that he would pass over once every district of Lodum at this height for all to see. Suri was worried for her life. Many of the fae could see her clearly, and she did not think it would be surprising for a crossbow bolt to suddenly fly up at her, or a spell to take out one of Gorgax’s wings and send them plummeting into a stone building. But no such thing happened. If there was a resistance movement in Lodum they were keeping quiet and biding their time, just as Suri had decided to do. No attack was launched against her, and Traxan smiled, showing sharp teeth between his ruby lips.
In time, Korka lowered his gauntleted hand and Gorgax tightened the spiral, heading back to the royal palace. Suri shivered, but did not rub her arm as she wanted to. She was not cold, but the feeling of so many fae eyes on her, even though none of them seemed mean or with ill intent, made her greatly uncomfortable. She was their Queen and Korka’s wife-to-be, but she could not shake the gut-wrenching remembrance of what it was like to be a full-blooded human in Lodum, when she had to hide herself from the fae mob.
Animals instincts told her that she should be hiding from these murderers who had so wantonly killed her kind, and hunted her through the catacombs not that long ago. The other part of her that had flared up when she had been racing down the city on her ice spell toward the human district to investigate what was going on had a great desire to summon a black magic spell and rain true hell down on Lo
dum. Not hell spawn, but painful, indiscriminate death and suffering, which part of her thought they deserved. The other part of her knew that these fae were less than the pawn that she was, simply moved by whatever force had come into power—willing to follow Korka to the death while he would sacrifice them for nothing. They were to be pitied, and yet she wanted to kill them all the same, for being weak and cowardly, so willing to go along with what their King said, and slaughter innocent humans.
Gorgax did not land on the dragon landing platform of the royal palace, instead settling down, folding his wings, and digging his claws deep into the grassy ground of an open yard at the side of the palace, hidden from the rest of the city by an outer wall. It was hardly necessary given how high the palace was on the top of the hill of the noble’s district, but it ensured that no one outside of the palace could see them—all but, perhaps, the top of Gorgax’s head and the tip of his tail when he flicked it through the air.
As Lord Korka dismounted, Traxan took Suri’s hand and the two of them levitated off the dragon’s back. The situation was so new to Suri and she was taking in the details of the palace that she could see, that in the moment she didn’t mind Traxan using his spell to levitate them both. Normally she would do it herself and hate to be touched by him, but just this once she was too distracted.
A whole entourage was waiting for them, servants wearing blue and black petticoats and tight trousers. The men and women were dressed the same. If they had long hair, it was tied in a tight bun atop their head, not a single strand loose or out of place. Their hands were clean and pale, nails perfectly trimmed and manicured, and the impeccably white cuffs at the bottom of their long black sleeves had golden cufflinks shaped in the head of a dragon that looked very much to have been made to match Gorgax’s skull.
The servants were arranged in two rows of five, half of them carried a large table between them, and the others chairs. Only three, knowing exactly how many would be coming. As Gorgax settled onto the earth, the servants set down the table and chairs next to it so that Lord Korka, Traxan and Suri had only to take a couple of steps to take a seat. That was when Lord Korka spoke his first words that Suri had heard since he proclaimed Vestrix’s death.
“My mount is hungry,” came the hollow voice from within his helm.
Three servants snapped saluted, turned on their heels and went inside the royal palace. Meanwhile, Traxan set the box that was strapped to his back onto the table, unlocked it, and removed a pair of shoes. They sparkled with gold and silver. He handed them to Suri, stopped, glanced at his King, and instead got out of his chair and knelt in front of Suri, took one of her cold, bare feet in a hand, wiped the dirt off of it with his shirt, and slipped the shoe on. Like the dress it was a perfect fit. A creepy scene suddenly came to Suri’s mind of Traxan slipping inside Suri’s room in the fortress in the dead of night to take her measurements. The worst part of it was, that scene was probably not far removed from how they got her measurements. Looking at Traxan’s smarmy, cupid face, Suri knew that it was exactly the kind of intimate creepiness that Lord Korka’s lackey would enjoy—probably suggesting it himself, so as not to ‘agitate’ Suri any more than was necessary.
He did the same with Suri’s other foot, and then removed from his box the most precious item of all: a tiara, also made of gold. It rose as high as Suri’s head, a true crown befitting the Queen of all of Faerie. Traxan rose from his kneeling position and placed it upon Suri’s brow. It weighed next to nothing, at least under Suri’s strong neck. She wanted to smile. This was, after all, the dream of every young, gifted girl at some point in their lives—better, even, because she was a Queen, not a princess.
But instead of the expected happiness came a sense of dread that spread like a snake-bite toxin through her body, and made one of her hands start to tremble. She grabbed it with her other one to hide the movement, and to calm herself down. It’s real, she thought. It’s actually happening. The truth of it finally came crashing over her, as part of her had held out thinking that the wedding, and everything was fake, a trick, an elaborate ploy to get her in on their schemes.
And then her jaw dropped, as Lord Korka removed his great helm. He was old, terribly old. His hair was long and white, mere wisps atop a pale scalp. His face was gaunt, frail looking with high cheekbones. He must have been beautiful once, but time and the life-draining effects of black magic had ruined his natural charm. From his cold expression, he did not care. Suri shivered, feeling with certainty that it was one of the smallest things the warlock had sacrificed in his quest for power.
The fact that he looked so old and haggard, sunken cheeks and eyes, could mean many things. Is he sick, or merely very old? The ravages of black magic had only been a guess, but now Suri considered other possibilities. Does he wear the helm to cover up his weakness? It was laughable to think of him as weak, but there were levels of strength and levels of weakness. At the highest echelons of power he could be losing his grip, his best days already behind that but not wanting to reveal that truth unless absolutely necessary. Or, as right now, when he needed a break from having his face enclosed by a metal helm.
What was Suri going to do anyway? Tattle on him? Say that the great Lord Korka, warlock, conqueror of Lodum, was actually a frail old man propped up by a suit of armor?
She quickly looked away before Lord Korka could meet her gaze. She did not want to see him eye-to-eye. Not because she was scared of how she would feel, but what his reaction might be upon seeing Suri’s expression. Arrogant tyrants do not like to be pitied, or to see their weakness reflected on someone else’s face.
Patience. This is not the time to act.
In a way, it was relieving. Terrible as he looked, like a lich fresh out of his grave, it was better than if he was both cruel and devastatingly handsome.
15
Suri
“You look surprised,” said Lord Korka. He tapped one gauntleted finger against the table and slowly turned his blood-red eyes to Suri. “Am I not what you expected?” A dry, rattling laugh came out from between his thin, stretched lips. It went on longer than was comfortable and ended in a wet cough.
“I did not know what I expected,” said Suri, “but I should not be surprised that your face is a monster’s.”
“Is that so,” said Lord Korka in dry amusement. “You are how old? Thirty? Forty? It is so hard to tell with humans. You age fast, die fast. You hardly have any time to collect knowledge. It would be wrong to blame you for your ignorance, and the failings of your people. Understand that I do not wish you to be here. It is an unfortunate necessity that has twisted our fates together. Do not worry, young one. You will not be punished no matter how callous and disrespectful you act.”
Traxan wore a frown but did not say anything. He picked at a bunch of grapes the servants had brought out and left on the table, on a platter.
“You think humans are weak,” said Suri. “Why? What do you know of Earth?”
“That few of you have any magic,” said Lord Korka with disdain. “Most of you squabble about in the dirt. Tinkering and building contraption because you don’t have the blessed means to do otherwise.”
“Blessed? What do you mean, blessed? We have gifted and ungifted, the same as in Faerie.”
“Oh, yes,” Lord Korka replied, as if remembering something. “It’s been so long since I talked with a common person that I forgot those are the terms used. They haven’t changed after all this time. What does gifted mean, hmm? You think it is by chance that some are born with magic, and some not?”
“It is a matter of blood,” Suri diplomatically replied.
“There is so much that you don’t understand…Where to begin with you,” Lord Korka mused. “Well, I suppose there is time. You and I shall be living together after all.”
“What do you want from me?” Suri asked.
“You know what I want.”
“No, I’m not sure that I do. I am to be your wife. You blackmailed me into doing so, under threat of kill
ing my friends. I know that I’m a half-breed, but I do not know why I am valuable. I don’t know what it means to you and to Lodum—to all of Faerie.”
Korka’s laugh rattled out again. The skin on his throat, visible above the collar of his large breastplate, was pale and sagging, old folds of skin with liver spots that looked parchment-thin. “I see that Vestrix was no more forthcoming than I am. Very well, I will explain. Maybe then you will see why this is necessary.”
Lord Korka rose to his feet. It must be due to enchantments in his armor that he is able to walk around so easily, as if the black metal weighed no more than a feather, Suri thought.
“Humans and fae were once one,” Lord Korka began. “One species, living in Faerie, before Earth was born out of the chaos.”
This was not the evolutionary theory that Suri had been taught in primary school, but she kept her lips shut and let the crazy old man continue.
“The throne within this palace is older than even I. Older than Jansilian, that wretch. He is no true King, but a pretender, just as all the Faerie Kings have been pretenders for the past ten thousand years. You see, Suri, the rightful rulers of Faerie—the ones who built this palace and its throne room—are your ancestors. Your blood has been diluted since then. You do not hold all of the powers that they had, but you are a half-breed, just as they were. Perhaps the only one left on Earth and Faerie. Your mother bore no other child. Your aunts are barren. You could be the last hope for this place.”
Faerie Queen: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Vampire's Bane Book 3 : Part I) Page 10