Blood of Retribution

by Bonnie Lamer

  Clasping her hands in front of her, she does that cackling laugh again. “You call upon your magic to no avail.”

  I doubt it, but I’m willing to see where she’s going with this. “Why is that?”

  She spreads her hands wide and says, “Because this is a place of your making.”

  “Right,” I say looking around at the gold bars. “I decided to put myself in a bird cage.”

  “The design was of your choosing. I do find it interesting that out of all the things you could fear, the one thing that scares you the most is the luxury of your birthright.” The figure begins to pace back and forth in front of the cage. “You do not fear for the safety of your friends or family as darkness spreads through the Fairy realm.”

  “I can protect them,” I say, causing her to cackle again. Okay, I guess that doesn’t sound impressive from someone currently in a bird cage.

  “Yes, you do believe that.”

  “It’s true.”

  Moving on, she says, “You do not fear the task set before you by the Angels to somehow bring harmony to the universe, nor do you fear the crushing depression that will overcome you when you finally discover it to be an impossible task.”

  “It is not impossible,” I say. Why am I arguing with a crazy person? I’ve done it enough to know it never works.

  “Because of your poor choices, you will eventually drive away everyone who cares for you. Do you not fear the isolation or the guilt from crushing the spirits of others you bully? You will even destroy those you profess to love.”

  I roll my eyes, not really wanting to think about what she’s saying in fear there is some truth to it. “Do you have a point?”

  She stops and smiles, baring teeth that are yellowish brown. Dental hygiene is not high on her priority list, obviously. “The point, Xandra, is that you will become me.” Her pale, colorless eyes burn brightly now.

  A strangled laugh catches in my throat. “Right. I’m going to become an ugly old crone who gets her jollies from discovering people’s fears. I don’t think so.”

  That laugh again. I swear, I’m going to shove that laugh so far down inside of her she’ll be able to wear it as nail polish. “Foolish girl,” she hisses. “I am you.”

  Well, that gets me to shut up. For a minute anyway, but then I have to ask. “What do you mean, you are me?” Sure, it was a self-explanatory statement, but I need her to elaborate a little bit more before panic sets in.

  “Before you came to be in this cage, you saw me in that room. You hated me, loathed what you saw in me.”

  That’s stating the obvious. “True. You’re pretty disgusting.”

  She bares those teeth again in a smile. “You were the only one who could see me in that room. I’ve come in a vain attempt to show you, Xandra, your path. I am the future face of a life gone awry. The piece of a selfish mind that lives in the shadows. I am the embodiment of power used only as a weapon.”

  “Hey, I don’t use my magic just as a weapon!” I exclaim. Though, at the moment I am having trouble remembering something else I’ve used it for lately. Regardless, I’m not buying any of this. No way. “You know what, I’ve heard enough. I’m out of here.”

  I stand up and reach out to the cage door and it dissolves in my hands. The entire cage just disappears and I feel the magic pour back through me. Apparently, it really was of my making. Well, good. Now I have free access to the crone in front of me.

  She shakes her head as if she’s disgusted with me. “You cannot harm me,” she says.

  “Yeah? Why not?”

  “Because I am not really here.”

  Okay, that stops me. “What do you mean?” She just told me she came from the future and now she’s saying I am just imagining her? And I thought I was full of contradictions.

  She waves her hand around the darkness. “This, all of this, is all in your mind. You have created the darkness and you have locked yourself inside of it.” Her pale eyes flash. “This is where you belong. You want to believe I am not of you, and you want me to be the evil stranger terrorizing this realm. You require me as a figure to blame for the actions brought about by you and I have answered the call. But, refusing to acknowledge what I really am only proves how you continue to ignore the darkness inside of you. This,” she shakes at her robes and motions to herself, “is not real. I am simply the face you put to the evil inside of you. The face you will one day harbor as your façade.” Her stare becomes intense now, not just creepy. “If you truly love your friends and family, you will remain here. Do not become this.” Again, she motions to herself.

  She has to be lying and I am definitely not staying here. I look around trying to figure out how to get out. Everything is so dark. The only light in this place is surrounding me and the crone, everyplace else is black as a moonless night. There is no escape. But, if she is right, I can will myself out of here. Even if that means that I acknowledge at least some of her words as truth, which I don’t.

  I’m going to get out of here and get back to Kallen, I’m going to get out of here and get back to Kallen, I’m going to get out of here and get back to Kallen…as I continue to repeat this in my head like Dorothy in Oz, I can feel the darkness slipping away and find myself lying on a bed in the middle of a room with the worried eyes of my husband staring down at me. I think it’s time to acknowledge the truth.

  Chapter 14

  “Xandra, Angel, are you okay?” Kallen asks.

  I lead with, “I’m evil.” I continue whining with, “My evilness looks like an old crone with seeping head wounds.”

  Not surprisingly, Kallen responds with, “I think you may have sustained a head injury.”

  I shake my head and sit up. A little bit of bile moves up my esophagus and I have to swallow it back down. I’m going to blame that on the noxious gas I inhaled, not that I’m sick to death over the fact that I’m evil. “No head injury, I’m just evil.”

  “Oh for god’s sake, this again?” comes Dagda’s sympathetic reply.

  I give him my best glower. “Has your trophy for ‘Father of the Year’ come yet?”

  “It will come from the silversmith at the same time as your trophy for winning the ‘I’ve whined the most about my father being a Fairy so therefore I must be evil’ competition.”

  I open my mouth to fling a flaming retort at him, but nothing comes out. I try again. Nope. Nothing. I scrunch my brows together hoping that will help me come up with one, but no luck. I’m left speechless.

  “Xandra,” Kallen says softly, bringing my eyes to his. “Why do you think you’re evil?” The ‘again’ at the end of his sentence is silent, but it’s definitely there.

  With a quick narrowing of my eyes in Dagda’s direction, I refocus on Kallen and answer his question. “Because the person in my head told me so.” Wow. That is one of the craziest things I’ve ever said. “That didn’t come out right,” I hurry to say. “There was this figure in the pastel room and it got inside my head somehow and it told me it was my evil part.” Oh god, this is not getting any better. I sound like a lunatic.

  “Damn it, Xandra,” Dagda says. Kallen has apparently been rendered speechless from my insane explanation. “You were knocked out by a flaming hex bag is all. There was no evil part of your psyche, you were hallucinating. You need to get it together so we can find a way to rid the realm of the spells you released. So get off your ass, stop playing the ‘woe is me’ game and do something. You need to act like you’re the daughter of the King, damn it, so the Fairies of the realm can look at you with respect and admiration instead of treating you as an outsider come to punish them.”

  I blink a couple of times. I think my brain has forgotten how to make my vocal chords work because they’re just lying in my throat not doing anything. There’s not even the tiniest vibration as an indication that they are still capable of movement.

  “Uncle, I think the darkness…” Kallen starts but Dagda doesn’t let him finish.

  “No, this is something that she needs to h
ear. We have all been pussy footing around her, afraid we’d drive her away or make her lose the precarious control she has over her magic if we spoke the truth. But enough.” He turns to me. “Life has handed you a lot: ghostly parents, a father who is prideful and made mistakes regarding the way you were brought into the universe, a bond to the Angels that is yet to be fully understood, a changed destiny, and a bullshit job of bringing peace to all. Well, too bad. That’s what you have to work with. So all you can do now is make the best of it and whining about being evil all the time just slows you down. Deep down in that heart of yours, do you feel evil?” he demands in a tone that says the question is not rhetorical.

  The answer is so quickly on my lips, my brain doesn’t even have time to register that I’m speaking. “No.”

  “Good. If that changes, let us know. In the meantime, we shall work on the premise that you are, indeed, not evil.”

  Even Kallen is stunned. His eyes are traveling back and forth between my biological father and me, waiting to see what my reaction is. In other words, waiting to see what wall I’m going to throw Dagda through.

  “You’re right.” Both males are so shocked, I’m sure one of them is about to pass out. I inch closer to Kallen so I can try to catch him if he falls.

  “What did you say?” Dagda asks, his body still prepared for impact. I can tell because every visible muscle on his body is drawn taut.

  I roll my eyes. “You heard me, and I’m not going to repeat myself. So, what are we going to do about all of this? Where do I start?”

  A loud rapping on the door snaps all of our heads around. Sindri pokes his nervous head around the door. “Your Highnesses,” he says, a strange tremor in his voice.

  “Not now,” Dagda growls. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

  “Sire, I do not believe you would like me to wait to relay these tidings,” the Fairy says, trying to put confidence in his voice, but it just comes out in a nervous tone.

  Dagda narrows his eyes in anger. If Sindri’s news isn’t epic, I think the Fairy may lose his job. “What. Is. It.” Dagda’s teeth are clenched so tightly, his mouth has become as impenetrable as the great wall of China.

  “Um…the food taster…”

  “You have a food taster?” I ask Dagda. All I get is a glare in response. Wow, I thought I was paranoid.

  “He is…he is…” Sindri can’t seem to get the words out of his mouth.

  “Is he dead?” Dagda growls.

  “No, Sire,” Sindri says quickly. “He is not. But he is very close to death.” Okay, not so paranoid.

  My father begins to rant, with a bunch of obscenities pouring out of his mouth. I may be an adult and married, but I still don’t think my father should use that kind of language around me. And half the things he’s saying, I don’t think are even physically possible. I don’t really want to find out. “Where is he?” I ask.

  “He is still in the kitchen,” Sindri says, relieved to be talking to someone other than the Fairy in the room who is about to combust from rage.

  “Maybe I can help him,” I say. Hurrying to the door, I touch Sindri lightly on his arm. “Will you show me the way?” With a quick look in Dagda’s direction, he turns back to me and nods.

  “I will remain with my uncle,” Kallen says. There is definite concern in his voice. He’s right to feel that way considering that Dagda now looks as if he is going to wreak more havoc on the realm than the darkness I let loose. I think my father just might crack up and I don’t want Sindri to be cannon fodder. Tugging on his arm, he closes the door after us.

  Chapter 15

  In the kitchen, there is a small crowd of Fairies surrounding a man on the floor. He’s conscious, but he is greener than a frog. “Could he have simple food poisoning?” I ask. I get a confused look from Sindri. “I mean, could it just be that the food wasn’t prepared correctly and the bacteria in it made him sick?” The look I get from the crotchety cook who I once worked with on a reception menu gives me a look that tells me I had better look out for poison in my food later. “Um, I guess not,” I say a bit sheepishly. That was probably a question I should have asked somewhere other than the kitchen, and not in front of the cook.

  “There was iron ground up into a fine powder on the food,” a younger Fairy says. He looks to be about fifteen. I wonder what he’s doing here. Is he on the staff?

  “How could that happen?” I ask. Look at me, I’m a detective now.

  “If we knew the answer to that, it would not have occurred,” the cook says with increasing hostility. I’m going to keep a close eye on that wooden spoon she has in her hand. I’m pretty sure she knows how to wield it for maximum impact.

  The Fairy on the ground groans, bringing my attention back to him. I should probably ask questions after I rid his body of the iron. I kneel down and place my hands on his belly. I can feel the iron coursing through him, and there’s a lot of it. How the hell could he have swallowed so much iron without knowing it? I mean, iron affects Fairies immediately. He should have reacted the moment he took his first bite, but by the looks of the empty plate on the counter, he completely finished his meal.

  Getting back to my purpose, I focus on drawing the poison from his body. Iron doesn’t affect me quite as badly as other Fairies, but it doesn’t feel great as I draw it from him and into me. That’s the problem with curing someone who is a victim of poisoning. The poison doesn’t just disappear. It needs to go somewhere else and I can’t exactly call for my wings right now. For the second time today, I’m glad that I have a familiar.

  Taz has followed me to the kitchen like a good familiar should. Currently, he’s scavenging for scraps while everyone is focused on the Fairy on the floor. “Taz, come here.”

  “Fat chance of that happening,” he says around the piece of bread he has found. “Just because you can order the wankers you live with around, it does not mean you can do it to me.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re my familiar; you have to do what I tell you to do.” I try to ignore the collective gasp ricocheting off the kitchen walls. I probably shouldn’t be so free with the whole familiar thing. “Taz, just get your butt over here.”

  “You have a pet Tasmanian devil?” the young Fairy asks me.

  “Um, not exactly,” I say, not intending to explain any further than that. Instead, I rope my Tasmanian devil with magic like he’s a steer at a rodeo and drag him across the floor. He’s desperately clinging to his bread, his belly more important than the fact that I’m about to fill him with iron. I hope it doesn’t hurt him.

  As soon as Taz is within reach, I let my magic go. He knows better than to run off. I’d just catch him again. “Can’t a fella finish his lunch around here?” he gripes.

  “Not at the expense of someone’s life, no,” I say dryly. I’m getting plenty of quizzical looks from the others in the room as I have a conversation with a wild animal. I’m pretty sure that if I wasn’t the Princess, they would have already started the process of getting me locked up somewhere ‘for my own good’.

  As soon as my hand touches my familiar, the iron shoots through me like an electrical current. In one arm and out the other. Unfortunately, my chest is between the two and is feeling like it is being struck by lightning.

  The process only takes a second. As soon as I let my hand drop from Taz, he falls to the floor sideways. His mouth has stopped mid-chew and a piece of bread is deciding if it will fall towards his throat or the floor. The floor wins. Taz’s eyes have rolled up into his head and his little body has gone stiff. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing.

  “Did you kill him?” the young Fairy asks, accusation clear in his voice.

  I don’t know. Did I? I poke my finger in his belly. Nothing. I grab one of his little legs and it’s stiff as a board. I think I did kill him. I thought this would be just like the whole darkness thing. It would pass from me to him and then he would cough up an iron hairball. God, I feel terrible. I can’t believe I did this to him. Leaning down, I scoop the dead
animal into my arms and I feel tears starting to well in my eyes. How could I be so cruel?

  “Could you bring some more of that bread with us?”

  I’m so mad I could really kill him now. I do let him tumble to the floor. “Stupid little faker.”

  His shoulders hunch up. “Just wanted to know if you cared. I would have appreciated a few more tears.”

  My foot is itching to kick the little jerk all the way to the great hall. Lucky for him, the man on the floor regains consciousness, drawing my attention away. I spin around to see Sindri and the young Fairy helping the food taster into a sitting position.

  Through a throat that sounds as dry as a dead man’s toenail, the poisoned Fairy looks at me and says, “Thank you.”

  I shrug my shoulders, uncomfortable with his gratitude. “No need for thanks.”