by Unknown
So these new fey were named the farinne-sidhe. I have no idea why, maybe Faerie just liked the sound of it. Whatever it was, she wasn't telling. She was real smug about it too.
The farinne-sidhe were tall with dark membranous wings that had a fringe of black feathers on the edges. Their skin was pale gray and their hair was brilliant white, fading into mist at the ends. Their eyes were blue but it was a shifting blue, more muted than the dark-sidhe's were.
Next came the drachleen-sidhe. They were runway model thin with deep-set, pale blue eyes and very pale skin. Their regal faces were set above long, graceful necks but their elegant hands were tipped in sharp claws. They surveyed the fey around them with hungry stares but waited silently, caught in the paralysis of creation.
After the drachleen-sidhe were the raiseala. They were a little shorter than the dark-sidhe, with white skin and deeply contrasting black eyes. Those eyes were focused and intense, capable of holding you frozen in their stare. Across their shoulders, in various delicate designs, were tiny black scales, like fine lace.
The tairhail came next, Faerie continuing as tirelessly as she had the night we'd made the Dark Kingdom. She shaped them into small bodies, only around two feet tall, with spindly limbs that made them appear almost insect-like. Big yellow eyes peered out of their flat faces, shining against their dark green skin. They crouched into a squat, their thin arms and legs coming together like a folding table as they took their place with the others.
The meisidhna were short as well but a little taller than the tairhail. They had light skin with a silver sheen to it and a fluffy mane of deep violet hair. There limbs were long, not spindly just long in comparison to their torsos, making them appear to have more height than they actually did.
Then Faerie made the ellingran. They were thickly muscled with black hair and gray eyes. There skin was light but not as pale as some of the others. They had a wild look about them, like they'd be the first to leave the comforts of the castle and embark on their own. Their eyes constantly darted about them.
With the last little bit of Darkness, Faerie made the dark pixies. They looked just like all the other pixies I knew, except for the air pixies who had wings. The dark pixies appeared to be tiny people with varying hair and eye colors, their skin tones ranging from white to creamy gray. They huddled together, as if they instinctively knew they were the least powerful fey in the room.
When we were finished, Faerie pulled us back so we could survey her handiwork. The Darkness was now safely distributed among the new races of dark fey. Each race had twenty-one members, the same number of dark-sidhe we'd created, and I wondered what the significance of that was but Faerie wasn't forthcoming. Instead, she spoke to the new fey through me.
“You are the fey of the House of Darkness,” she declared with pride. “The farinne-sidhe,” she gestured to them and they stepped forward. “With the ability to become mist.”
As we watched, the mist at the tips of their hair spread upward until it covered them completely, turning them all into a white fog. They spread out, mingling into each other, before condensing back into individuals and stepping back to join the rest of the dark fey.
By this time, the dark-sidhe had recovered and they now stood watching the proceedings with shocked expressions. Rowan stood at the front of the group and his eyes caught mine with open gratitude. He bowed his head and we nodded back to him. Debt repaid, mistake corrected. It looked like we were forgiven. I was deeply relieved that I wouldn't have to worry about him trying to kill me again but Faerie just laughed at me and waved the next group forward.
“The Drachleen-sidhe,” she smiled to the thin fey and then transferred her gaze to the dark-sidhe. “Who can destroy the darker emotions you create. Here is your salvation should you ever feel the Darkness begin to consume you again. Treasure them because their magic has the power to stop wars.” She nodded to them and they bowed before stepping back. “The Raiseala,” the fey with the scales across their shoulders stepped forward. “Who prefer the shadows. They have the ability to transform into snakes.”
With a wave of our hand, the Raiseala wavered and shrunk to become a group of enormous black snakes slithering around each other. Another wave of our hand and they coalesced back into more human looking forms, though their eyes never lost that cold, reptilian stare.
“The tairhail,” we smiled to the small fey and they unfolded their stick-like limbs, then ambled forward. “Who can climb anything, scale any height.”
They waved their hands before them with dramatic glee, showcasing large suckers on the tips of their fingers, and then ran for the walls. They went straight up them like Spiderman, some even climbing onto the ceiling to smile down at us. We smiled indulgently back at them before waving them down. Then they all scrambled back into their group and gave us a courtly bow.
“The meisidhna,” we urged the silver-skinned fey forward. “Who despise disorder. They will help you run your castle and possibly even your kingdom.” The short fey bowed and went back with the others. “The ellingran,” the wild looking ones stepped forward. “Who have the ability to transform into fierce canine-like creatures. Here are your soldiers, your strength.” We nodded to them and they gave us crisp bows. “And of course, your dark pixies,” they came forward hesitantly and we smiled gently at them. “You think you're small and have little to offer but you're wrong. Often it's the smallest fey who hold a kingdom together. The Earth kingdom is proof of that. They've fallen apart since Vervain took their pixies. Learn from this lesson, dark fey and treat your pixies well, they are more valuable than you may think.”
The pixies bowed to us, visibly relieved, and went to stand a little closer to the other fey. Rowan stepped forward then and held his hand out to us. We placed our hand in his and he lifted our hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it.
“Now we are truly a kingdom,” he smiled and it was only the second time I'd seen him smile without some kind of ulterior motive lurking beneath it. “Thank you, Faerie.”
“You're welcome, King Rowan. See to it that you take good care of both your fey and your kingdom,” I swayed a little as Faerie left me and Rowan caught my arm to steady me.
“I think it's time we got you home,” he said just as we heard a roar that nearly shook the castle.
“Too late.”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
I'd made it out of Castle Tempest in time to stop Arach from starting a war but just barely. It turned out that Craigor had more honor in him than I'd thought. He'd flown straight to Arach and told him what happened, risking both Arach's and his own king's wrath. Then he'd returned to the Dark Kingdom with Arach, prepared to battle his way into Castle Tempest and save my life. I was impressed.
Craigor actually looked a little disappointed that we'd worked everything out and there wasn't going to be a battle. He wasn't the only one either. It took quite a bit of persuasion to get Arach to back down and accept the apologies of the dark fey. He finally changed back into his fey body and strode over to Rowan; chest puffed, head lifted, and naked as the day he was born. He didn't even pause in his stride, just punched Rowan squarely in the jar, watched him fall, and walked back to me looking much more satisfied.
Rowan didn't get up for a rather long time.
I'm a little embarrassed to admit that Arach's attack on Rowan had my blood racing. Even after someone thoughtfully supplied Arach with a cloak, I kept casting hot looks in his direction, seeing it all play out over and over in my mind. Arach's face set in angry lines, the tension in his muscles as he moved, the swing of red hair and closed fist, and then Rowan defeated on the ground at Arach's feet. Oh it was heady stuff and Rowan had gotten off lightly with that punch so I failed to feel sympathy for him.
Craigor came to me and apologized again. I waved aside his apology, saying that I didn't hold him responsible for anything he'd done while being manipulated by the dark fey. Especially since I was partially responsible for their creation and therefore partially responsible f
or their actions. I thanked him for rallying the troops on my behalf and he blushed, looking down at his feet briefly before meeting my gaze and shaking my hand.
I will always be grateful to Craigor for that moment of humility and honor that he shared with me. It came at the most perfect of times, right when my faith in the fey was failing. Rowan may have been unbalanced with all of the Darkness inside him but his words had struck me nonetheless. I was worried that I'd been seeing only what I wanted to see. That the changes the fey had made were insincere and only offered in the hopes of regaining their fertility. Craigor, a fey who I'd considered an adversary if not an outright enemy, had shown me that Rowan was wrong. The fey did have honor and the capacity to care. They didn't need the darker emotions like Rowan had implied. Yes, the dark was necessary but it wasn't more important than the light.
When everything was settled, I headed back to Castle Aithinne on Arach's back. He transformed back into a dragon to carry me since I was still a little tired from hosting Faerie. Once home, I crawled into bed and cuddled up with Arach, telling him not only about the new dark fey but about what happened in the Realm of Dreams with Morpheus. He'd said something about my true power being the ability to draw catastrophe to myself.
I couldn't argue with that. Instead, I took a few deep breaths and decided I needed a little holiday in Faerie. Now that everything was settled with the dark fey, there were no other worries for me in the Faerie Realm. I could relax for awhile, even my dreams were safe now.
So I stayed until the time caught up again, evening out on the twenty-eighth of February. The snow was melting by then and our world had turned a little slushy, the perfect time to return to the God Realm and the trouble that awaited me there. Morpheus may be taken care of but we still hadn't dealt with Tawiskaron and I wasn't looking forward to that confrontation.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
I stepped out of the tracing room and went straight into our gilded elevator. I took it up to our bedroom, hoping for a small reprieve before anything major was thrown at me. I was out of luck as usual.
Griffin was standing in my bedroom arguing with Trevor while Kirill tried to watch television and ignore them.
“You always were a presumptuous prig,” Trevor was saying when I walked in. “Amnesia hasn't interfered with that one little bit.”
“Someone wanna tell me what's going on here?” I leaned against the door frame and regarded the men with narrowed eyes.
“Zey fighting over you,” Kirill answered as he came over to give me a kiss. “How vas Faerie Realm?”
“Oh, I got kidnapped by an angry mothman and handed over to a bunch of childish but supremely powerful dark-sidhe. So I had to create more races of dark fey to alleviate the Darkness building up inside them and stop a tide of emotional evil. You know, the usual.”
“Da. So you had good time zen?”
“Yeah it was alright,” I grinned at him.
“Vervain,” Trevor started over but was stopped in his tracks by a voice coming through the intercom.
“Get down here now!” Darius shouted.
We exchanged brief but alarmed looks and then bolted to the elevator. We all squeezed in, Trevor and Griffin finding opposite corners to glare at each other from. I would have questioned them further but I didn't want to get into it right then. We exited into a full hall, lions running everywhere, and Darius waiting for us in front of the tracing room.
“Go, go, go,” he pushed Intare into the room and then came over to us. “Teharon called. The mutants are marching down Jay's Peak, heading towards the town below. We need to get there and stop them before they get spotted by the humans.”
“Fudge,” I sighed. “Alright, let's go.”
“I'm going too,” Griffin said obstinately.
“Into a god war?” I looked at him with round eyes. “Have you lost your mind? First the Underworld and now this.”
“I'm going, Vervain,” he set his shoulders.
“Fine, I don't have time for this.” I turned toward Trevor and Kirill. “Kirill, can you try to find Azrael? And Trevor, can you see if any Froekn are willing to come and help us? I'll meet you guys at the mountain.”
“Alright,” Trevor agreed and Kirill nodded.
They left and I grabbed Griffin's hand and started power-walking him down to the armory.
“Where are we going?” He jerked his hand from mine. “If you think you're going to trick me into getting into a room and then lock the door behind me, you got another think coming.”
“Actually no but that's a good idea,” I pretended to consider it until he growled at me. “You're going to need a weapon, you idiot.”
I walked off without him and he eventually started to follow me. When I opened the door to the armory, he sucked in an impressed breath. I shot a smug look at him over my shoulder and then waved my arms expansively.
“Take your pick, honey,” I grinned.
As Griffin walked forward, I caught the gleam of something hidden toward the back of the room. I went past him, leaving him to test the weight of a longsword. Brushing aside a bunch of spears set into a wide jar, I found what had been glinting at me. Gungnir, Odin's spear that had chosen to stay with me instead of burning with his body. It glowed in the semi-dark, shining like it had the night of Odin's funeral. I knew with absolute certainty that it wanted to come with me, that it needed to come with me. I didn't fight with weapons very often anymore but for Gungnir, I'd make an exception.
“Did you find one you like?” I turned to see Griffin strapping on some guns. He already had a sword hanging from his belt and... “Are those grenades?” I gaped at him. “Who do you think you are? Commando?”
“You said I needed to arm myself,” he shrugged. “I figured it's better to take too much than not enough.”
“True enough,” I huffed a laugh. “Come on,” I headed out, slinging Gungnir over my shoulder.
“I thought you didn't need a weapon, dragon lady?”
“Better to have too much,” I winked at him.
We traced over to the foot of Jay's Peak and found the battle already underway. Teharon was in the thick of it, healing mutants as fast as he could catch them. His brother kept to the edges, mutating any human who was unfortunate enough to wander onto the scene, and he seemed to have warned his mutants to stay away from Teharon. Catching them looked to be difficult and, I hate to say it, a little funny. Seeing Teharon race after mutant humans while Karni Mata tried to coral them in, was hilarious. Or it would have been if the mutants in question hadn't been trying to kill my other friends.
We couldn't afford to play knock out the mutant so Teharon can heal them later. There were too many of them and they were stronger than your average person. So I ran into the battle and joined Pan, who looked a bit overwhelmed. He shot me a grateful look which quickly turned to shock. He was staring at something over my shoulder.
Before I could confront whatever it was that Pan had been staring at, a shot rang out. I turned to find a mutant dead at my feet and Griffin running up to me. Saved again by Odin. There was something perfectly kismet about that. I gave him a grateful smile and then started to fight.
It became a blur of twisted limbs and misshapen faces for me. I ceased to think, propelling Gungnir outwards endlessly. The power of the spear took over and merged with the rising victory and war magics inside me. The spear became an extension of my arm, held strong by the call of War and directed unerringly by Victory. Thrust, block, stab. Flesh yielding to steel. Bones breaking beneath hardened wood. I spun, using both ends of the weapon. Blood sprayed, a perfect backdrop to my dance. The horror of battle faded away till all that was left was art.
I couldn't look at the others, couldn't take the time to see how the Squad was doing or if Trevor had arrived with some Froekn back-up. There were too many mutants to deal with. Swing, stab, lurch, pull back, my arms never tired. I had the strength of three beasts driving me on as well as the combined forces of my magic and Gungnir's. I felt unstoppable. Then
howls entered the battle song and my heart lifted with joy. The wolves had arrived.
I lifted my head to search for the Froekn, forgetting that to do so was dangerous, and a large mutant male took advantage of my distraction. I saw him out of the corner of my eye but by then it was too late. I was falling with him, his weight crushing me and breaking one of my ribs. I gasped with the pain and suffered through a slow trickle of healing energy. It was worse than the caves, healing me so slowly I barely noticed the progress.
It made no sense. As a harvest goddess, my healing should have improved, getting faster not slower. What a horrible time to discover that I wasn't as invincible as I'd thought.
A glance to my side showed Griffin taken down by a mutant as well. He'd been distracted by my fall. I heard shots ring out and then the clicking of an empty chamber. Griffin was cursing and I struggled with my assailant as I simultaneously tried to keep an eye on Griffin. His sword went flying, torn away from him, and that was the last I saw. A wave of bodies separated us and I had to focus back on my own fight.
A fist smashed into my face and blood gushed from my nose into my eyes. I'd dropped Gungnir but it was completely useless in such close quarters anyway. Instead, I shifted my hands into dragon claws and struck out blindly. The mutant grunted and set his knees over my wrists, cracking my bones beneath them. I screamed as my wrists were broken, shaking my head to try and free my vision of blood and the black spots of pain. Then the mutant shouted and fell away.
I wiped furiously at my eyes with my forearms, disregarding the pain radiating into my limp hands. Vision was more important. I had to see where my assailant had gone, what had happened to him. I cradled my wrists to my chest and blinked the last of the blood away. Then my whole body seized in shock, muscles clenching to the point of palsy as my jaw fell open.
Griffin was standing before me with Gungnir in his hands, the mutant dead at his feet. There was a haze of magic around him, his hair lifting in a non-existent breeze. His body was already bigger than I remembered but as I watched, he continued to grow. His chest widened, his whole body lengthened as muscles started to thicken his limbs and bones started to stretch. His face took on harsher angles, his jaw firming, his cheekbones sharpening, and then there were his eyes.