Rise of the Seven

by Melissa Wright

  He didn’t come.

  I fell asleep there, waiting for something happen, or hiding from just that. When I woke, it was full dark, the moon covered by vaporous cloud. I’d been dreaming, an odd one featuring Steed and Ruby. They were flying through the air, drunk on the effects of dust, and she was giggling uncontrollably. It might have been funny, seeing Ruby race through the air, red curls flowing, laughing riotously, if I hadn’t seen the raids as a child.

  They would sneak in, hundreds of them, flitting through the castle at incredible speeds. Some of them were nearly too quick to see, except that they never went unnoticed. Chaos and madness were left in their wake. They destroyed, pillaged, ransacked. They set fires, loosed floods, poisoned. They were tiny, sparkling furies, bent on destruction. Asher had nearly declared war, but was finally able to quell the attacks.

  I stood, ready to make my way back for warmth and maybe some food, and was thrown forward, almost knocked from my perch. I grabbed a stone pillar and fell back into a squat, looking behind me before jumping down to the roof. It might have been a strong gust of wind. If it hadn’t giggled.

  As soon as I saw the sky was clear, I leapt from the roof, into the window, and ran the corridors full speed. It hadn’t been a dream. That meant they’d been here too long already.

  A dull thump and a scraping noise echoed through the halls from far off. The torches came alive, flames flaring at full heat. A half dozen more steps and I rounded a corner, meeting Grey, who was heading for me at what had to be his own top speed. Where were they?

  “East wing,” he said, answering my thought.

  They’d sent Grey because he was the fastest. At the atrium outside of the east wing, Chevelle and Steed joined us. Chevelle’s right side was splattered with blood and glitter. Steed looked as if he might be sick.

  “Where is Ruby?” I asked, frantic. Steed glanced toward the clamor. “They will take her!” I shouted. It appeared they’d not even considered the danger.

  Chevelle nodded, but I could see his concern lay elsewhere.

  I stared down Steed and Grey. “Do not leave her side.”

  Grey was gone before I’d finished speaking, but we were right behind him. We followed the clatter of metal and chirping, bubbly laughter to the great hall.

  It appeared to have exploded. The furniture was in splinters, pieces of wall and ceiling lay in piles of rubble, the stones of which were being lobbed about blissfully by several small gray fey. Their feathers were wet, as was about half the room, which was scattered with patches of ice and puddles of water.

  The tapestries were set to a slow burn, which no one seemed to think significant enough to put out. Given that there were at least a dozen other fairies here who could set even the stone ablaze, I could understand the decision. Anvil had taken to electrocuting a couple of water sprites, which the lilac-skinned Flora and Virtue considered uproarious. They floated above the scene, rolling in the air with laughter.

  Rider was cornered by a waiflike winter sprite and two frost monsters were hovering above Rhys, trying to get a hand on his staff. The room hummed with the beat of so many wings and stank of sulfur and spring violets.

  “I hate fairies.” My voice was surprisingly even.

  “Hear, hear,” Ruby whispered, catching my eye as she stood behind Steed and Grey midway across the hall.

  I drew my sword, grateful I’d stayed in my fighting attire from the evening’s meeting. I would have to be careful bandying around magic in a room full of fey. They had a bad habit of affecting energy in unusual ways, and I was barely in control of it myself. I sincerely hoped, once again, that Finn and Keaton had a plan to help me channel it.

  “Pretty, pretty,” a frost monster murmured to Rhys’ staff.

  “Anvil,” I said with as much calm as I could muster. He ceased transmitting the current toward the water sprites and they shuddered, jerked, and dropped to the floor. They were trembling and muttering incoherently, but their audience became bored.

  I stepped in before they found another attraction. “Flora, why have you come?”

  Twin amethyst jewels gleamed at me, and I had to focus not to get lost there. Her smile was stunning, though I knew she mocked me. The heliotropes had something very near hypnosis if they could catch you. Her lips were thin, a muted pink against the pale lilac of the rest of her. She wore but a scrap of clothing, revealing the tiny feather-like strokes of mauve covering her body.

  Her only response was to purr.

  I looked at Virtue. She raised a violet brow.

  “Why?”

  “You will see, lov-el-y,” she taunted, dragging her words out. “You. Will. See.”

  I stepped forward, sword at the ready. Virtue was more of a soft lavender with the markings of a cheetah. I’d always heard her belly faded to white. Looking at her now, I doubted anyone had actually gotten close enough to find out. She wore the full armor of a warrior fey and a smile that promised to devour you.

  “He comes,” whispered a soft voice from behind the walls.

  “He comes,” repeated the gray-feathered fiends, forgetting their game of stone-throwing to watch the large hole where the window used to be.

  We stood motionless, dreading the “he” who was coming.

  No sound accompanied his arrival, but as his form appeared in the opening, the sun broke over the horizon, silhouetting the figure of a winged god in the golden light of dawn.

  If I hadn’t been so angry, I might have rolled my eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Veil

  Veil hovered there for a moment, allowing all to glory in the display. Anvil spat, Grey shook his head, and Rhys struggled to keep his staff from the pale, wiry fingers of the frost monsters.

  Finally, Veil spread his arms and drifted into the great hall.

  “Nearly through with your presentation?” I asked, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my tone.

  He smiled as if I’d applauded instead of insulted him. He tilted his head to the side, perusing my attire. He took his time and when his gaze finally came back to meet my glare, I could practically feel the anger radiating off Chevelle from his position behind me.

  “You look well, my Freya,” Veil purred.

  Something similar to a growl escaped my second, who was, at least for the time being, faithfully guarding my back.

  “You look ridiculous,” I shot back. “And your damned insects are swarming the castle.”

  His smile turned sexy and I tried not to notice that he was indeed worthy of the hero status he had among the fey. “They are not like your little birdies, are they?”

  I glared at him. At the moment, there wasn’t much else I could really do.

  Fey had a knack for knowing absolutely everything. They held secrets that were impossible to learn. It didn’t do much good to anyone else, because you could never get the information from them and any sort of trade ended with you being in worse shape than when you started, besides not having received your end of the bargain. But they knew. And Veil had a special talent for it, so I wasn’t surprised that he’d hit me with a very personal endearment and a reference to my ability within the first minute of conversation. But there were only two reasons he would be here now: because I knew something he didn’t or because he knew something I didn’t.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, slowly enunciating each word.

  He flew closer, stilling his wings as his soft-soled boots touched the floor. “My dear,” he said as he stepped nearer, “you are the talk of the realm. Where else would I be?”

  I tightened the grip on my sword.

  His gaze flowed over me before he turned his palms up and glanced the room. “And your Seven. My, my, what a glorious mob.” His eyes met Ruby’s and she held his stare defiantly. I glanced at Grey, but he seemed to be controlling himself... unless you counted the murderous glare.

  Veil continued to survey the room, pacing a narrow circle in front of me. He was like a preening peacock, displaying his wares. I wanted t
o look away, but I didn’t trust him that much. So, instead, I watched his effort to impress me with as much disgusted indifference as I could manage.

  It was difficult, given that he was shirtless and wore low-slung pants. But I hated fairies. He paraded his lean, muscled torso, gorgeous amber wings dappled with a mesmerizing pattern of swirls and circles, somehow reminiscent of eyes. His eyes. Striking amber gems that complemented his long bronzed body, set in a handsome face, adorned with a charismatic smile... He was no less than captivating. But I hated fairies.

  I realized he’d stopped moving; he was simply standing there with a satisfied smile, watching me take him in. “Are you quite done?” I snapped.

  He remained as he was before replying in a low, seductive voice, “May we speak alone?”

  “No.” I answered too quickly, and nearly flushed before I caught it. On the other hand, it might not have been quick enough, because I felt Chevelle go completely still behind me. “Anything you have to say can be spoken in front of my guard.”

  Veil’s eyes were roaming my body again. “I understand you’ve chosen a second.”

  Shit. Shit, shit, shit. There were a thousand implications in his statement, chiefly that I would not be getting bound to Chevelle.

  A crash sounded in the corridor, followed by a high-pitched, “Oopsie,” and a giggle.

  “Get on with it, Veil, before I slaughter your minions.”

  He appeared oblivious to not only my comment, but all of the destruction surrounding us. “An unexpected choice, your blue-eyed guardian.”

  I stepped forward. “Spit it out or I’ll remove your tongue.”

  He laughed and glanced at Anvil. Damn, I hated fairies.

  “And especially soon. You seem concerned for your safety,” he said, his eyes falling back to mine.

  How he knew within a matter of hours, not only that I had chosen a second, but why, was a problem.

  “It seems you are concerned with my affairs as well,” I said.

  His face became serious, but retained the sexy. “I am very interested.”

  I leaned back.

  Veil leaned forward. “Perhaps we can make an arrangement.”

  I was momentarily speechless, and not entirely certain what he was offering.

  “I can protect you,” he murmured.

  My mouth dropped open at his word choice, and then a few choice words emerged.

  “You are very appealing when you’re angry, beautiful Freya.”

  I was tempted to hurt him, but I couldn’t afford a war. Not yet.

  “No?”

  “Never.”

  “Ah, well.” He stepped back, resuming his pacing. “So then, a gift.”

  I felt a sudden, though light, pull on the cord which held my mother’s pendant at precisely the same moment Veil winked at me.

  “Let me know if you change your mind,” he hummed in an remarkably alluring voice.

  I glanced down just as his boots lifted from the floor and found the “gift” attached to my necklace. I didn’t waste time unlacing it, instead yanking the entire cord free and away from my skin. When I looked back up, the others were watching a few dozen fey disappear from sight.

  Unfortunately, that left too many still within the hall. The pair of gray-feathered fiends looked at me and smiled. I flinched, not only at their promise, but at what appeared to be blood on their prickly little teeth. I secured the necklace behind my belt and readied my sword.

  “Leave now and we will remain at peace.”

  It was really a useless warning. All who’d traveled with Veil had only come to unearth trouble, with the possible exception of Flora and Virtue, who followed him everywhere. But they were gone, along with the ones who didn’t care to risk death. Then again, I couldn’t help but offer, because I really wanted them to just go.

  The winter sprite who had been harassing Rider moved to the center of the room and joined another of its kind. They were very dangerous, despite their frail appearance. They were nearly as tall as Ruby, but incredibly thin and pale. Their hair was long, a silvery gray that fell down in waves and complemented their paper-thin silver and white wings. And they had the ability to create shards of ice that pierced like glass and broke like steel.

  “We have come for the girl,” the one farthest from me replied.

  I knew exactly who she meant, but I didn’t dare take my eyes off them to confirm Ruby’s safety. I trusted my guard. They would protect her. Please, let them protect her.

  “She will not leave here,” I pledged.

  As if they had been waiting for the challenge, for my denial, the rest of the fey gathered in a very large half-moon behind them. Except for the frost monsters, who still hovered above Rhys yelling, “Mine, mine,” for his staff. I wasn’t sure they were even aware of the impending battle, let alone Veil’s departure. At least they hadn’t tried freezing him yet.

  I hated fairies.

  “Don’t do this.” I tried again.

  The gray fairy on the right raised a slender hand to ready her troops. In typical fey fashion, a small male became overly excited and broke the charge early, heading straight for Ruby. Steed’s sword came up to meet him and sliced though his thin frame from hip to shoulder, crosswise. It was fortunate he’d flown in low, that was rarely the case.

  “Idiot,” the second gray fairy muttered.

  As the first lowered her hand, Anvil took a knee to steady his shot and threw lightning at the water sprites. He’d been battle-trained to fight the fey. I hoped the rest of my guard knew better than to use much magic. Rhys and Rider moved to cover our backs and Chevelle shifted to my left side. The fey split into approximately three lines, hovering high over our heads, hovering just above us, and at ground level.

  It was a brilliant tactic. The largest were on foot, coming at us with magic and weapons. While we were busy chopping them down, the airborne line came at us in formation, while the highest fey took turns swooping in to dive-bomb unexpectedly. Swords flashed, dust flew, wings sang. It was complete and utter chaos.

  A robust ginger-skinned male with auburn hair and orange-brown wings came at me with a half sword and I parried, then cut through his chest on the back swing. As he fell, a gorgeous lithe female, who might have passed for an elf if not for the thin cerulean wings, shrieked a battle cry and leapt in a kick at my face. I dodged and spun, knowing better than to grab her, as she turned to face me. Over her shoulder, I could see Rhys, still struggling with dual frost monsters, who now had hold of his staff.

  Chevelle had closed ranks behind me, covering the attack. The fairy flung two knives at me, which I dared not dodge for Chevelle’s sake, and spun into another kick. I deflected one of the knives with my sword and held the other with the smallest amount of magic I could release, which happened to be far too much and shattered the blade. The distraction caused me to neglect the kick, and it landed directly over my healing rib. By then I was just pissed.

  I punched her square in the nose and brought the knife from my hip up to plant in her chest. When I moved to return to the line, I saw the strangest thing. Standing in the center of a triangle formed by Grey, Steed, and Rider stood a glorious red-headed fury. True and steady, she swung her whip in sharp circles around the lot of them. There was no particular pattern, up and over, around, back, down. Sometimes swirling above them several times before returning to cover the others. Each time a fairy came in for attack, it met with a sword or risked being tangled by whip, which brought the fliers down neatly for a knife to the gut.

  It was inspired, as the rest of us were vulnerable to the air strikes. It made me wonder if that was the reason she chose the weapon. And then I inhaled, which made me wonder if Veil had known about my broken rib.

  I edged in between Chevelle, who had amassed an impressive pile of fey corpses, and Anvil, who had efficiently removed the threat of water sprites before they’d had a chance to flood the hall. Two large shadow stalkers rushed forward and I raised my blade to strike. I caught one in the side but t
hey were fast, and the other dodged the blow completely. As I pulled back, Chevelle sliced through the second with deadly accuracy before turning to deflect a jade fairy’s blade. I finished off the shadow stalker just as the advance fell.

  The handful of fey that remained were airborne, alternately lunging toward Ruby and then feigning back at her strike.

  “Bring them down,” I commanded, surprised at my own vehemence. “I want this over with.”

  My guard responded by surrounding Ruby in a large, loose circle. They watched the air as two russet fey dived simultaneously. Grey struck one with a miniscule amount of energy, causing it to bounce into the flight path of the second. Off guard, the second was caught by Ruby’s whip and slung to the ground by an ankle. Steed sliced its throat. Recovered, the first tried to rebound but was speared through the chest by Rider.

  One of the remaining watchers screeched and three others flew wide in a sudden attack on me. I blasted them from the air, hoping they’d not have time to feed off my power, and Chevelle leapt over one and slammed into another, who had already been rising. The few that were left had apparently been driven to madness by their defeat, because they were frantically darting around the room, high-pitched bird-like screams and hisses trailing behind.

  Steed began to drop stones from the ceiling, which finally brought them low enough to be caught. Spitting venom and cursing, they fought resembling cats, claws and all. At last, the room was silent. I glanced around, incredulous at the destruction. Pools of water and blood stood on the dismantled stone floor, the furnishings were scattered shards of wood and metal. Bits of wing littered the ground like so much confetti. My gaze caught as it came across the strange pale scraps covering the floor near the back wall where Rhys had stood. It appeared he’d found a way to deal with the frost monsters. I felt a shiver and turned to the others, who also seemed to be in various stages of shock and post-combat unrest.

  “Steed, take Ruby to her room. Bar the door.”

  He snapped out of his stupor quick enough.