by Terry Spear
Couples danced in the center of the floor, the ladies’ gowns rustling with the fae movements, smooth as ballerinas dancing with their gents in a faery all-star cast.
Ritasia nearly cut off the circulation in Alicia’s hand she gripped it so tightly. She whispered to Alicia, “Deveron will wear black. As in the bad fae, like your Westerns always depict the unscrupulous cowboy. Bad to the bone in black.”
Alicia couldn’t help but smile at the thought. He was bad. His kisses were so divinely good they were sinfully bad…good, whatever.
And whatever brought that to mind, she had no idea.
But what she wouldn’t have given to have his arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her safe right now. Though she appreciated Ritasia’s “protection,” Alicia was certain her fingers would drop off within a matter of minutes from lack of circulation.
“I don’t see anyone wearing black tonight. The fae here appear to like the lighter colors,” Alicia said, straining to see the taller males.
“That’s precisely why he would wear it. Besides he’s trying to keep his dark fae image with you.”
Alicia stared at Ritasia. “I don’t understand.”
Ritasia’s lips turned up. “I believe he thinks you are intrigued by the notion he is an evil dark fae. He isn’t evil, you know. Any more than I am. Some are, of course, just like some humans are. But, for whatever reason, he is trying to please you. You didn’t hear that from me, however.”
Twice now Ritasia had alluded to this idea that Deveron cared for Alicia. But how could he, being that she was only half fae, and a dragon fae at that?
Still, her heart beat faster as she considered the possibilities. She and a dark fae? Nah. He was a prince of the dark fae. No way could he see her as anything more than an intriguing mission, an interesting dangerous diversion. Even if he did have…feelings for her, she was certain his queenly mother wouldn’t permit him to do anything about it. And what about Alicia’s mother? She’d have a fit to think Alicia had fallen…well, she hadn’t fallen, maybe was developing a slight crush, a big crush on the dark fae, when Alicia’s own fae dad had left her mother so many years ago.
She and Ritasia moved through the standing crowds, trying to see some sign of Deveron. Once Alicia pointed at a man, but Ritasia shook her head. “His clothes are very similar to Deveron’s. A nearly black navy blue.”
Then Alicia thought she spied Micala. But how could it be Micala? He was supposed to be at South Padre Island with Cassie.
Just as soon as she saw the man who looked like Micala, another man pulled her away from Ritasia.
“Dance with me,” he said, and swung her away on the floor, swirling her to the unfamiliar steps. Her feet barely touched the floor as he glided away from Ritasia.
She only glimpsed the dark fae female briefly, dancing nearby with a man with a blond-haired wig, but a few strands of red hair poked between the blond strands. Prince Phillinois?
If she kept her eyes on Ritasia, and Ritasia watched out for her, maybe they’d be all right.
The blond she danced with held her so tight, she didn’t think she would be capable of freeing herself from his grasp. Though she wanted to look for Deveron, too, she figured she’d better keep her eye on Ritasia as Alicia at least knew where she was.
Suddenly the low lights in the ballroom went out, and cries of surprise, then laughter filled the air.
The man who held her, whispered in her ear, “Dragon fae.” And then he took her away, somewhere far away as the darkness swirled around her, and she grew dizzy.
Dragon fae echoed in her mind. Dragon fae…the dark fae may be evil but the dragon fae even more so.
Die, dragon fae spy…die.
Was she dreaming? Or did the fae speak the words to her, taunting her as he carried her away?
Ritasia. Would Ritasia or Deveron ever know what had become of her? Would they give up the game of protecting the half human/half dragon fae now? Or would they search for her with all of their hearts to free her from the clutches of this man who she knew was truly evil?
She could imagine Ritasia having a fit when she’d lost Alicia as soon as the lights went out. And Deveron, where was he?
She came to the realization that while she was in the faery world she would have to learn to be a faery, just as when she was in the human world, she lived as a human. But how could she live as a faery when she’d never been one before?
It was high time she learned how.
First, if she could get a bow and arrow, she’d shoot the fae who took her away from her friends. She frowned at herself. Is that what being a dragon fae was all about? Warrior-like and vengeful?
Didn’t matter. If it saved her butt, she was all for it. “Where can I get a bow and arrow?” she asked.
Her words echoed back to her.
She realized then she was in a dark room, lying shackled to a plank of wood covered in a thin blanket. No longer was she traveling with the fae in the black void. Where was she? And how long had she been here?
But most importantly, how would she get herself out of this place?
CHAPTER 13
Deveron and Micala had found themselves in pitch blackness once they’d returned to the ballroom. Then when the lights turned on again, he knew deep in his heart, they’d lost Alicia.
When he discovered Ritasia dancing with none other than Prince Phillinois, Deveron did the unthinkable and broke in on the dance.
“I have an urgent matter to discuss with my sister,” Deveron said.
“For Rastonion’s sake, Deveron. Do you mind? Talk to her after we finish the dance,” the Venician prince retorted.
Ritasia pulled free. “I will return.”
Deveron quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, and grabbed Micala’s arm, then transported them to his guest chambers. He released both at once.
They pulled off their masks and deposited them in his chest.
“I don’t think there’s any mistaking what has happened,” Deveron said, trying not to sound as bitter as he felt. How could a half human, half dragon fae stir him up so? He had promised to protect her. That was the only reason, he assured himself. And a dark fae always kept his promise.
“I was sure I heard her cry out,” Ritasia said. Her eyes grew tearful. “Phillinois wouldn’t release me to go to her, and the man who’d taken her from my grasp, I thought was one of the palace guards. It was hard to tell from his mask.”
“Did you see his faery dust trail?”
“Yes, silver with a touch of auburn.”
“Can you pick up the trail?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t get free from Phillinois. He knew I was trying to go to Alicia’s aid, and he had no intention of letting me do so.”
“Let’s go then before the trail grows cold. We have twenty-four hours to find her before we lose the trail completely.”
If he had anything to say about it, they would find Alicia within the hour. Being a human wouldn’t equip her for the hostile way a fae could treat her. Would her instincts of being a dragon fae begin to surface? She would need them to survive, he feared.
“Ready?” He slipped his arm around Ritasia’s waist, then grabbed hold of Micala’s arm. They both nodded and together they transported to the ballroom, appearing only briefly to find the beginning of the faery dust trail left by the fae who’d taken Alicia hostage.
The music had stopped and everyone stood speaking to one another, but as soon as the dark fae royals were noticed, even the conversation ceased.
“We shall return,” Deveron said to Phillinois, then vanished again with his sister and Micala.
They stopped numerous times at the places that the man who had taken Alicia had rested. As they stood on a parapet of the Neferon castle overlooking the Obian Sea, Deveron finally remarked, “It appears he worried we might follow him. I only hope that someone else hasn’t taken Alicia from him to confuse us.”
Ritasia shook her head and pointed at the trail. “There is still only one. He seem
s to be traveling alone with her. We appear to be only about an hour behind him, as bright as his trail is.”
Deveron took a deep breath. “Let’s continue, shall we?”
A dark-haired woman ran across the wall walk headed straight for Deveron, smiling broadly.
“Lady Minxsta,” he said under his breath. He definitely didn’t want their busybody distant cousin to sidetrack them.
“Prince Deveron, Princess Ritasia,” she said, grinning from ear to ear and curtseyed deeply at the same time. “Whatever are you doing here? You must come and see—”
“We are on a most urgent mission, Lady Minxsta,” Deveron said, curtly.
“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a guard from the royal palace of Venicia arrive here with a blond-haired female wearing sea green gowns, would you have?” Ritasia asked, politely.
“Why yes. Do tell, what is going on? Before one of our guards could question the man, as the young girl seemed extremely unwell, the man and she vanished. Do not tell me that he had taken her against her will, and you are attempting to rescue the poor girl?”
Before any could answer her, she looked from one royal to the other, then smiled. “Ooooh, how intriguing. Is she a princess from another kingdom? Why would you wish to be the ones to rescue her? Is she—”
“We must go before the trail grows cold,” Deveron said, abruptly.
The woman tugged at a dark curl draped over her shoulder, then smiled again. “He wore a silver tunic and butternut breeches. His hair was blond, but streaked with a few strands of gray. And he had a strange, small, upturned nose. Looked way too small for a man-sized face. I guess you know what the young lady looks like.”
“Lady Minxsta, we really must be—”
“The girl, who is she? She looked terribly unwell.”
He knew they had to depart or be caught up in a conversation with the lady for hours. And yet he couldn’t leave until he heard more about Alicia’s condition. “Yes?”
This seemed to spur the lady on to new delights of storytelling. The fact that her favorite prince and princess cousins would be interested in what she had to say…
She would talk about it for days at court.
“Oh, yes, well, the poor little thing looked terribly frazzled. He held her tightly against his chest as she looked as limp as a starved ear of corn. But even at that, she struggled to free herself from him, and I, well and one of our guards, were concerned she was being held against her will. And now with your appearance, we learn she was. Oh the poor little thing. She squeaked out something about needing a bow and arrow…I think. It was awfully hard to understand her. And of course, that didn’t make much sense.”
Deveron glanced at Ritasia who took a deep breath.
“Anything else?”
“Only one thing. I thought it was an awfully odd thing to do. No one does such a thing when we are among our own kind. Never. It was just so queer.”
“What?” Deveron tried to keep his tone of voice reasonable, but the lady was pushing him to the brink.
Ritasia ran her hand over his arm to try to calm him. He didn’t need calming. He needed to know what was so odd!
“She turned invisible. Now, don’t you think that strange? I mean, here she is as visible as you or me, but then her fae aura surrounds her, clearly indicating she’s turned invisible to the human eye. Of course, I attributed it to the man’s taking her hostage and wearing her out with his transporting her, possibly even having drugged her. She did look in pretty sad shape. So maybe her senses were out of balance.”
He glanced at Ritasia whose eyes couldn’t have grown any bigger. “Ritasia, we must go.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then nodded.
“Lady Minxsta, as always a pleasure,” Deveron said.
She smiled broadly and curtseyed low. “Please come back soon with the poor little thing. We will make her most welcome. Oh, do you need some of the royal guard to go with you? You really shouldn’t be the ones traipsing across faery kingdoms, trying to bring her home. Where is her home, anyway?”
Deveron made a curt bow to the lady, not wishing to get drawn into an all-day discussion, then transported Ritasia and Micala once again.
When they stopped in a garden of another fae minor kingdom, Ritasia said, “What does it mean, Deveron? Why would she now be invisible?”
“She is seventeen. Remember when we were first that age? That’s when we began to gain some of our powers. We are many years older now, but she really is seventeen. I appear eighteen and have been that for years. You are nineteen…the same thing. But she is the real magical seventeen.”
“Are you saying she’s to be immortal like us?”
“No, only that being half fae, it seems her abilities are just now appearing.”
“So she can transport herself?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.” He pointed at the ground. “Here’s the guard’s trail. We see no faery dust for Alicia. She doesn’t leave a trail. Maybe being only half fae, she never will. She may never be able to transport herself like we can either. And even if she’s able, it may be months before she can.”
Micala stretched his arms. “He seems to be criss-crossing the continent. Do you think he’ll settle down soon?”
“I hope so,” Deveron said, looking at where the trail led south. “But I’m sure when we find Alicia, he’ll be long gone or fear our wrath should we locate her.”
“I hope they’ve fed her,” Ritasia said, her voice ragged with weariness. “They won’t know she’s half human and needs to eat. It’s a good thing we can eat to enjoy the food, or leave it alone. But I don’t imagine she can live without it entirely.”
Deveron frowned. He hadn’t considered how fragile her human half could make her. “Then we mustn’t lose any more time in locating her.”
CHAPTER 14
“What have we here,” a rough-sounding man said in the dark as Alicia tried to wake. Disoriented, she had no idea where she was. She lay on something hard. When she tried to rise, chains attached to cold metal bracelets that wrapped around her wrists prevented her from moving too far.
She came to the sinking realization she was most likely in a dungeon as the smell of damp earth and decaying matter assaulted her.
The man struck a match, then lighted a lantern. A bulldog-looking man with dark brown hair and cold gray eyes stared at her.
Was he a dark fae?
He wore no medallion. But then he wouldn’t. Not if he was just a guard or something.
She glanced down at her clothes. Gone were Ritasia’s beautiful sea green gowns, her hair clips and the golden medallion emblem of the Neferon minor royalty. Now Alicia wore a dingy brown wool tunic and brown trousers and a pair of moccasin-like leather shoes.
Alicia’s stomach revolted as the bile rose to her throat when she breathed in some more of the nauseously putrid odor. Her throat was parched, and she wondered how long she’d been in this prison.
“Dragon fae,” the man sneered.
“Where am I?”
He motioned to the door. Another man, this one tall and thin, escorted a woman into the room. Her ash blond hair was woven into a single braid that trailed down her back. Her eyes were nearly the same olive green as Alicia’s and widened to see her as a splinter of recognition flitted across them. Did the woman recognize her? As in, she looked familiar like a relative of someone the woman already knew?
Alicia’s skin crawled with the idea that she might be known by a race of fae she’d never met.
The woman wore clothes similar to Alicia—fae prison garb? She appeared to be not much older than Alicia. And she was a prisoner, too, as her hands were manacled. The woman took a deep breath and bowed her head slightly in greeting.
Alicia had only seen males do that when they greeted royalty or lords that outranked them. She was certainly not royalty. And if she had been, the woman should have curtseyed to her. Was the woman trying to signal her in some way? Her eyes remained riveted to Alicia as if she
was trying to determine who she was, or where she had seen her before.
“Do you know this dragon fae?” the bulldog of a man asked, his voice irritatingly gruff.
“She is not one of my people,” the woman said, with firm confidence.
And yet Alicia sensed the woman meant just the opposite. She could have sworn the woman recognized her.
“She has the archery skills of one of your kind,” the man argued.
“That may be so, but I have never seen the woman before in my life.” She stepped closer to Alicia. “Let me see your hand.”
Alicia showed her the palm of her hand, wondering what that had to do with anything. The woman squeezed her hand, then whispered, “Make a fist.”
Alicia did as the woman commanded. As soon as she did, she felt a thin metal object in her hand. A key? Was the dragon fae trying to help her to escape?
Why wouldn’t the dragon fae escape herself using the key? Why aid a total stranger?
Because, though the woman said she didn’t know her, she assumed the woman thought otherwise. And Alicia had found the fae were inordinately curious creatures.
“I don’t know her,” the woman said, matter-of-factly. “She might have been at one of the minor kingdoms. She is not from the royal kingdom of Morcalon.”
“Put this one back in her cell,” the guard said.
The woman tilted her chin up with a proud air, then cast a nearly imperceptible smile at Alicia.
The other guard roughly escorted the woman out of the cell, and Alicia felt for her, wanting to protect her at the same time.
“Where am I?” Alicia asked, turning her attention to the bulldog guard.
“The dungeon where all good dragon fae belong.”
“The dungeon at Venicia?”
“It would have been the first place Prince Deveron would have looked. No, you are far from there. But you will not interfere with Princess Lorelei’s plans to wed the dark fae prince any further.”