Faire Eve

by Catherine Stovall

  When the man realized he would not gain further entry, he raised his craggy and demented voice above the din of clamoring people. He panted with labored breaths and his eyes half closed. Pointing a long and dirty finger directly at her heart, he screamed. “You shall die. You are a halfling, a nothing, an abomination worse than the darkness. The Sidhe must die for us to be reborn into our freedom. The god’s of Evalon did not create the fey people to live as tame and kept creatures or to be afraid to surface in the Upper World. Let the dragon have her, appease his appetites with the sacrifice of a half-blood twit before he kills us all.”

  Eldon’s rage overtook him and he crossed the room in a matter of a few steps. He sheathed his sword but the murderous intentions in his eyes declared that he needed no weapon to put the aged and decrepit thing out of its own misery. Thankfully, Caleb moved to stop him when Eve cried out.

  The two warriors stared each other down as the old man continued to scream obscenities, curses, and nonsense at Eve. The people tried to remove him from the room but he managed to evade their efforts with an uncharacteristic agility. Eve stood and silence filled the air around them.

  Her voice was as smooth as midnight when she spoke, “Old man, what do you wish for your people? Do you wish for them to die an icy and frozen death? Do you want them to mourn for those who were lost to the dragon’s breath? Would you have everyone you ever loved fall to waste and nothingness?”

  As she spoke, Eve projected images into the elderly one’s mind. The things she knew of Tiritchiq and the destruction he left in his wake, slammed one after the other into the man’s feeble cerebellum. The man staggered beneath the weight of the pain and anguish washing over him as he watched a Ki’Lin mare mourn her dying mate. He screamed in agony as his saw Eve sink her own hand into the blood of the dragon and he felt the skin boil. The man fell to the floor and withered when he felt the icy tendrils of the dragon’s breath close around his own heart, as they had once done to Eve.

  She would have continued until the man died but Yath’s small hand found its way into hers. She saw the child’s goodness and light and she returned to herself from the midnight being she had become. She replaced the nightmares flooding out of her with the feelings of good she knew could take the place of the mistrust and hate that poisoned the man’s heart.

  She let him feel but not see her love for those around her, her awe of the beautiful Evalon, and the oncoming era of neutrality and peace she would bring to the lands, once she was crowned. She showed the man compassion, though he felt none for her, and left him crying on the floor of the chamber.

  Some of the local men carried the old fairy from the room and the others approached her and her troupe with apologies. They explained the man’s name was Orich and he had once been an elder in their town until, dissatisfied with the Sidhe’s refusal to stop the Dwarf wars, he turned his back on the light. Darkness took his wings as the price for whatever magic he worked against the Sidhe. He lived in the forest near the town, rarely venturing into the population.

  Eve’s hands shook but she appeared calmer, “He will need care for the next several days. I will have my friend Faya see if she can do something to help. I cannot be sure, but I think the darkness is gone from him. Watch closely and hold your guard.”

  It took less than an hour for the group to pack up and move on. Lingering in one place too long was proving to be dangerous. Eve chose to ride beside Faya as they left the town. So far, during the journey, the other woman had seemed to be distancing herself from the group and Eve began to worry. Riding up to her friend’s side, Eve beamed a giant smile.

  Faya greeted her but a look of wariness danced in the woman’s eyes. Eve felt a sudden stab of guilt. “Have I done something wrong, Faya?”

  Faya’s eyes widened, “No. I mean yes. What I mean to say is that I am worried about you, Eve. There’s a darkness coming out of you that almost equates the light. Watching you do what you did to the old man was scary as hell. I can feel the swirl of emotion coming out of you in waves. I’m almost afraid of you sometimes.”

  The woman’s candor floored Eve. Knowing the Ki’Lin could hear the conversation, Eve stroked her hand down the unicorn’s neck and asked, “Do you feel the same darkness, Bai?”

  “Faire Eve, I feel a torrent inside of you that is both light and dark. Yet neither is evil, if that is what you fear.” His conviction was clear when he spoke. “You have powers none of us understand. I cannot recall a Sidhe who has been your equal and you are a halfling.

  “That’s it. The reason I do not quite fear you. Your darkness is without hatred or anger. The power you wield has no vile stench but, the power it is not necessarily derived from the light either.” Faya seemed to be speaking to herself more than she was Eve.

  Eve remained quiet, taking in the words of the others. Faya rode on Kellan, the wounded Ki’Lin’s mate, and the mare could not hold her peace despite the fact they didn't invite her into the conversation. “Whatever power our soon to be queen holds, it is not darkness. The destructive force Tiritchiq uses does not reside within her. I have seen dark magic. Wizards murdered my mother. They ground her horn to dust so they could conjure demons. Someone who was filled with evil would not risk her life and mind to save a dying beast she did not know.”

  Eve searched inside herself for the magic that she unintentionally called upon. She could feel it resting in different places throughout her body. It felt raw and electrifying when she allowed her mind to brush against it but it did not feel wrong. She wondered if darkness would feel wrong to someone who was evil.

  Eve said little through the rest of the journey through Fidel. She wrestled thoughts of good and evil and of light and darkness. She felt frightened by the idea of something inside her that she could neither understand nor control. She had adjusted to the idea of being a fairy quickly but there hadn’t been a choice. If given time to think about the situation, she would shake with fright when she considered she had developed wings and super powers as if she were a mutant monster in an old movie.

  Her thoughts were still focused on the rapid changes taking place when they reached the gate to Zeal. The gate stood, as so many others did, in the middle of the road. In contrast to the others, it was intricately decorated and represented. Two tall pillars of white ivory stood on each side of the road. Hung between them, a large wooden arch carved with twisted ivy spelled out the name Zeal. Around the bases of the pillars, beautiful flowers grew in every color.

  They arrived earlier than expected due to the scene in Fidel. They had time to waste before the twilight hour came. They all welcomed the down time. The group was distressed after leaving Fidel more mentally worn than they had entered it.

  The younger Ki’Lin needed a break from the mundane task of hauling the soldiers on their backs. Eldon knew the journey would only grow more difficult. When he, Eve, and the others departed for Upper World, the Ki’Lin and the remaining troop would continue across the dark landscapes on their own. If they began fighting, they would not make it to Trig Na nOg. He worried about the safety of the strange little group that he led in the name of Faire Eve.

  As they passed the time until they would cross into Zeal, the others teamed up in groups to talk and share their meager supplies. The older Ki’Lin rested and grazed while the young ones held mock battles in the fields beyond the road. Eve stood watching Kai, Bai’s son, and another young male rear up on their hind legs at each other. They nickered in threatening tones as they bared their teeth and the sound of hooves clacking together could be heard even from where she stood.

  She felt him before he reached her. The pull she always sensed was growing stronger, and each time he came within reach, it vibrated inside of her. She expected his presence but the tenderness Eldon used when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, surprised her. Leaning back into his powerful chest, she allowed herself to relax and feel the warmth of his arms.

  Eldon bent his head to kiss her cheek, his voice a soft rumbling at her ear. “
What is causing you to stand here with such melancholy?”

  Eve told him of her conversation with Faya, Bai, and Kellan. “I’m so afraid I am evil. What if the darkness is what the dragon is after and he wants to use it to destroy more lives? What if it takes me over and I begin to want similar things?”

  Eldon tightened his grip on her body, his voice no longer a whisper, “You are not evil. Your magic is different. Something unexplainable in your powers makes it so, but it is not evil. When you meet Corrigan and take the throne in Trig Na nOg, it will prove you are good. Until then, don’t worry. I do not want to hear any more of that from you.”

  20

  Tiritchiq lay in the deepest cavern of his northern home. He had chosen to build his den on the human side of the divider in order to prevent the Sidhe from detecting his plans for their annihilation. He had dug the lair himself, after the initial transformation. Using his massive claws, he had shredded the thick ice and stone into nothing. He had burrowed out a hole so deep that he could stretch out in his dragon form without touching the walls.

  One of the benefits of existing in the Alaskan tundra was the complete isolation. He could remain as the dragon without drawing attention. On a rare occasion, a group of humans would stumble into the territory and make a terrific snack, but otherwise, Tiritchiq remained undisturbed.

  He spent what felt like a million years in the ice, waiting to take his revenge on all those who had crossed him when he was still powerless Alston. The list was long but had begun with the Sidhe who were responsible for all his torment.

  His parents had barely tolerated him as a child. Sidhe aristocrats were colder than the snow outside his lair. He couldn’t really blame them. As a young Sidhe male, he had lacked the dedication and strength to be a warrior, the brains to be a leader, and the physique to at least become one of those infinite names in everyone’s little black book. His magic had even been mediocre at best.

  He had thought he found his salvation in Clarisse. The beautiful Sidhe princess had often showed her preference to him. She could have gone to parties and balls with any of the hundreds of available men their own age but she relied on him as an escort. She had too much class to do silly things like making out beneath the Juniper trees. She would place simple and lovely kisses on his cheek at the end of the evenings they had spent together. Thinking the financial, social, and sensible thing to do would be to join his old and powerful family with her own, he had proposed to her.

  He had known all about her dalliance with the human in Upper World but it had meant little to him. He had thought the affair would be healthy for Clarisse. It would remind her that nothing but heartbreak lied beyond the safety of Evalon and she would not be tempted to stray. Instead, she had turned his proposal down. The look on her face when he had knelt in front of their friends and family still caused his frozen heart pain. She had looked at him as if he were a ridiculous beetle who dared to cross her elegant shoes.

  The change had come after that night. He had grown sick with his shame and weak with his self-loathing. His heart had turned black with hatred and his mind corrupted with revenge. His body had withered and shrank away. Within a month, he’d become barely recognizable. His condition had embarrassed his parents. They’d sought the help of the Astaroth demons and every powerful elder in Evalon. They’d kept him locked up in his room night and day, for fear people would think black magic was involved.

  Day by day, he had become more depressed and restless. Week by week, his body had mutilated until little of his former self remained. Legends about fey turning into imps because of bad deeds performed and witch curses existed but no one had believed them. In Tiritchiq’s case, he had become the product of his own disgust and hate. His physical being had morphed in to what was left of his soul. When his mother could no longer look at him without cringing, he’d fled to the outer regions of Evalon.

  Living in solitude and nursing the darkness building inside him, he’d learned the dark arts. His answer seemed to lie in the pitch-black folds of the comfort promised to him by lesser demons. The elder’s had taught him the darkness would exact a heavy price for any act it performed but in his eyes, he had nothing left to lose. Each time the darkness had given him something. it had taken another drought of his humanity.

  Still, he could not gain his true desire. He had never been able to return to his former shape and self. He’d become a shifter, instead. At first, he could only mimic small creatures with a less complex makeup than his own, but with greater sacrifices his ability had grown. He’d begun appearing within his old society to test his illusions. No one had recognized him or suspected what he really was.

  He had learned Clarisse remained in Upper World with the vile human. He had further inquired about the boy name Alston who the princess had once dallied with. The answers shocked him. His parents had told the community that he had died, stricken by a broken heart. He never returned to Trig Na nOg afterward. He spent time in the mortal world where his shape shifting allowed him to prey upon the stupid humans and half-breeds.

  That is how he had met the Earthly Immortals. Their power had drawn him to them like a moth to a flame. At the time, Tiritchiq had thought they were mere human witches with a very strange allotment of raw magic. The two had tricked him and banished him into the ice covered northern regions. Their spell had been haughty and flawed despite its intention. They hadn’t thought of the portal lying unused beneath the frozen earth. The sisters also hadn’t known about the darkness and his unfailing allegiance to its power.

  His last resolve against evil had faltered as a result of the immortals’ trickery and his banishment from Evalon. When he had returned to his home in the forest, he seethed and ranted. He’d called upon all the demons he could muster. He’d asked the dark forces to show him a way to gain his means to an end.

  The whispers in the night had sent an icy chill up his spine. They’d showed him the sweetest revenge. Of course, it came with a price. The darkness would help him to punish the Sidhe for their snobbery, Clarisse for her betrayal, and the rest of the world for its heartless and uncaring ways. The darkness had whispered to him, saying it would grant him the power of ultimate destruction for nothing less than his blackened and deformed soul. He would become a thing of legend, the original Tiritchiq reborn.

  He’d accepted the deal without argument or thought to consequence. The pain had been sumptuous and the torture had been a delicacy. His memories of the night held nothing but blood and terror and brought a smile to his dragon’s face. He had given the ultimate sacrifice to the darkness. He’d given up his mind, his body, his heart, and his soul. In return, darkness had blessed him with the form of the dragon, freedom from his banishment, and an unfaultable plan.

  Before he could act on his design, a fatal flaw quite literally had been born into the world. While darkness was cunning, it had limited sight and could only seek out the short term and less complex situations. Eve had come into the human world, unknown to the dragon and the darkness. Her mother had constructed a wall around the child no one could break through. Not even the great Sidhe king could find a way to communicate with the child.

  Tiritchiq had searched for a new way to act on his plan for ultimate destruction of Evalon. The darkness showed him only one way. He must bide his time and wait. It had revealed that, if he found a way to render the Sidhe helpless during the halfling’s sixteenth year, she would come to Evalon. He would have to overcome the child and bind her to himself or he would have to kill her. If he succeeded in bonding with the girl, she would give him power without limit. If he must kill her, it would be a loss of power. Clarisse and the final heir to the Sidhe throne would perish none-the-less. Either way, his plan would come to its natural accumulation.

  Tiritchiq had spent the next sixteen years developing and preparing his plan. He had begun to lay anchors in Evalon to weaken its power against him when the time came to weave his final web of death. He’d poisoned every mind he crossed and every place his eyes had fall
en upon. He had driven a deepening distrust into the hearts of the fey. He would rather rule a world of death and destruction than see Trig Na nOg stand.

  After all his preparations and work, he thought taking Eve would be easy. He was the most powerful dark being in existence but she had evaded him constantly. He hadn’t expected her to ally herself with the Ki’Lin and he hadn’t thought the Daoine warriors escorting her would have protected her so seriously. He’d underestimated them and it had cost him dearly.

  He had tried to capture her through hired means but the Astaroth demons he sent to Upper World had been easily defeated. He knew he would have to do his own bidding instead of looking to others. He had failed to kill her at the gateway and to take her in dream form. In Haven, he had drained most of his power between the forced Krásny Večný and changing the daylight landscape into a night landscape. He had meant to disarm them against his attack with the risky show of power. He had not counted on the warrior being stronger than his dark powers.

  Tiritchiq had lost his control over the beautiful sleep because he’d lost his temper with the whelp. To his surprise, the Ki’Lin had attacked. He would have easily squashed the petty witches and pathetic warriors if it hadn’t been for the unicorns. The biggest insult had been the fact the warrior had almost pierced his heart.

  Anger swelled in the massive dragon, but he was still too weak to damage anything not residing near him in the chamber. Instead, he conjured the darkness and closed his eyes. He would rest and regain his strength from the shadows flitting over his ebony scales. He hoped his absence would lull his enemy into a false sense of safety. He would allow them to travel through whatever landscapes they wanted. When he returned, their deaths would come as a final painful lesson.

  While the dragon slept, Eve and her guardians traveled across the land of Zeal. Their caution never wavered but, the longer they went without direct attack, the more their morale rose. The land of Zeal was rich and abundant. Riding through the towns and countryside, Eve saw the heart of the Upper World fantasies come to life.