Book Read Free

Rebel Faerie

Page 23

by Rachel Morgan


  “Hey, Rendyll?” the third guardian says. “I think we just scored big time. These unconscious guys?” She nods to the nearest body. “They’re Griffin rebels. The ones who were at Noxsom and then the Head moved somewhere else.”

  “Must’ve escaped again,” the ginger guardian says.

  “And you,” the white-haired man growls at Dash. “I recognize you, traitor.”

  “Hey! What the hell is that?” The woman jumps out of the way of something.

  Glass.

  I look around, seeing shards of it everywhere, quietly spreading through the grass. Ada’s lips quirk into an amused smile. Her blade presses harder against Aurora’s neck. “The glass faerie,” Ginger says. His eyes lock onto Ada. “Get her!”

  And the storm hits.

  Flashes of magic, explosions of glass, the shimmering of shields appearing here and there. Ada tosses Aurora aside and throws all her effort into attacking the nearest guardian. And it’s all happening right here among the unconscious rebels. “Get down!” Dash yells at me, his hand sweeping through the air. An invisible force knocks me onto my knees as a glittering knife flies over my head.

  I need to use my hands, so I shove my stylus as far as it will go into the front pocket of my pants. Everywhere I look, I see the glinting of glass. “No—dammit—stop!” I gasp, focusing furiously on drawing raw magic out of myself and throwing it at any glass that gets too close to the rebels. I’m not exactly quick, but at least my magic manages to halt and melt each trail of splinters it hits. The melted glass glows for a few moments before vanishing. Ada doesn’t seem to be sending any more glass this way while she’s fighting two guardians, but somehow there’s still plenty of her glass moving around from her sneaky attack before the fighting began.

  “Em, I told you to—argh, stay down!” Dash grunts. Metal clangs against metal as his sword meets the two crossed daggers the guardian woman is fighting with.

  “I’m stopping the glass!” I shout back. I crawl a short distance away from him so I’m not in his way. I’m close to Vi and Ryn now, making sure nothing gets anywhere near them. My eyes dart everywhere, searching for glass my magic has melted yet. Concentrating intently on pulling magic from my core, I manage to stop another few splinter trails. I start to think that I’ve finally got it all—when I see the glass on the other side of Violet’s body, heading straight for her outstretched arm.

  “No, no, no, stop!” I gasp, throwing myself across her in my effort to stop the glass before it reaches her. My hand is inches from the splinters when my magic finally flashes out, striking the glass and melting it. “You’re okay,” I say to Violet, though it’s really myself I’m reassuring. “You’re okay. You’re both okay.”

  “Em!” Aurora shouts.

  I look up, see the glittering arrow, and then feel myself yanked roughly to the side. Aurora’s magic drags me closer to Imperia. She pulls me over the dragon’s back foot and into the gap between her leg and her belly. “What are you doing in the middle of all the fighting?” she demands.

  “Trying to help,” I tell her, pushing myself up and looking over Imperia’s leg to see where the arrow landed.

  “Dammit, Rora, there’s an arrow in Ryn’s leg now!”

  “Better than it being in your chest,” she answers. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m just …” I push both hands into my hair and grip the sides of my head. “I’m freaking out. I finally got them back—Vi and Ryn—and now—”

  “Hey, it’s gonna be fine. Why haven’t you used your ability, though? Is it finished?”

  “I used it all up at Reinhold.” I look up at the blue-green scales above me. “Is Imperia …”

  “She’s okay, just stunned. This Ada woman must have gathered an enormous amount of power before she arrived here.”

  “Then hopefully she isn’t quite as strong as she usually is. Those two guardians seem to be keeping her busy. At least Dash only has to fight one person. But we can help him.”

  “What?” Aurora shakes her head. “Em, we can’t fight. Not like these people.”

  “We can throw magic from here. Nothing fancy, just the basic stuff. Or—where’s the backpack? You can shoot arrows. You’re really good. You can take out those guardians from here.”

  “It’s—I don’t know …” She rises a little and looks around. “It’s on the other side of Imperia’s leg.” With a wave of her hand, the backpack comes sailing over and lands in my lap. I tug it open immediately and turn it upside down. “There’s the bow. And the quiver must be here somewhere. I’ve got knives in my jacket, and—yeah, I’ll enlarge a sword. Just in case anyone tries to get too close to us.” I pick up the first sword I see and point it up into the air as I enlarge it, so it doesn’t stab either of us in this small space we’re huddled in.

  “Quickly, quickly, quickly,” Aurora mutters as the bow expands in her hand.

  I lower the sword to the ground as she enlarges the quiver of arrows. Then I pull a knife from inside my jacket and look over Imperia’s leg again. “What am I thinking?” I mutter to myself as I watch the guardians, Dash, and Ada lunge back and forth amid sparks and other forms of magic. “I’ll never hit a moving target with a knife.”

  “Use your magic instead,” Aurora says as she fits an arrow against the bowstring. She aims over Imperia’s leg and whispers, “I can do this. I can do this.” But she doesn’t let the arrow go. After another few moments, as I’m about to ask what’s taking so long, she releases the arrow.

  It soars past everyone and strikes a palm tree. We duck down immediately. “That’s exactly what I was hoping would not happen,” she mutters. “Don’t want to irritate the guardians and bring them running over here.”

  I risk a glance over the top of Imperia’s leg. “Dammit, one of them’s coming this way now. The guy with the white hair.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Crap, no, why is he stopping by Vi and Ryn?” I scramble to my feet, but Aurora tugs me back down.

  “Don’t be stupid!” she hisses.

  “Get another arrow! Be ready to stop him if—”

  “These are the leaders, aren’t they?” the white-haired guardian shouts, pointing his sword at Violet at Ryn. “They’re the ones who were caught first. The ones who used to be guardians.” He makes a disgusting sound at the back of his threat and spits on Ryn.

  I drop my knife, grab the sword, and try to launch myself over Imperia’s leg. “You filthy piece of—”

  “Em!” Aurora clings tightly to my arm, holding me back.

  “Leave them!” the ginger guardian shouts to the white-haired one.

  “Why?” he demands. “These rebels are a gigantic pain in everyone’s ass. It’s time to get rid of them for good. We’ll all be better off.”

  “Lockson, don’t!” Ginger shouts.

  “No!” I gasp, finally tugging free of Aurora’s grip and swinging myself over Imperia’s leg. But it’s too late. Lockson lifts his sword, point down—

  —and plunges it straight into Ryn’s chest where his heart is.

  My gasp is stuck in my throat. I can’t move. I can barely breath. Dash tackles Lockson before the guardian can hurt anyone else. Just behind them, Ada catches hold of Ginger’s wrist—and he turns to glass a moment later. Then her eyes meet mine. Without looking away, she bends and picks up her dagger. A smile twists her lips as she takes a step forward.

  I lunge away from Imperia, but I’m too far away, and as Ada drives the dagger down into Violet’s chest, I finally find my voice and scream. I scream and scream, and my throat is raw, and somehow I can’t hear any of it. Sound is gone. Time has slowed down. And I can’t look away from the horrific sight.

  Violet and Ryn. Dead. The gleaming blades protruding from their chests.

  My parents. Whom I’ll never get to know.

  My family. Shattered.

  Abruptly, time speeds up. Aurora is beside me, trying to pull me somewhere. Ada is crossing the grass toward me. Behind her, Dash yells
something as he swings a glittering blade at both remaining guardians. And somehow, in my shocked state, none of it quite makes sense.

  And then Ada’s right in front of us, grabbing hold of Aurora. She tugs her away from me and brings a blade flashing down toward Aurora’s throat. “No!” I yell, my limbs coming to life. I kick Aurora as hard as I can, sending her flying out of the way. Ada’s blade sweeps harmlessly through the air. “You little troll,” she hisses at me.

  “You MONSTER!” I scream at her.

  She raises both fists, and glass shards spin in deadly circles around them. “You should never have told me they were your parents.” She pulls one fist back—

  But I raise my sword over my shoulder and swing it down with all my might. The blade slices through air, through flesh, through the person I’ve loved my whole life—

  “Em!”

  I ignore the voice. I watch Ada’s body drop to the ground, her head barely still attached to her body. And blood. So. Much. Blood. It’s a hideous, horror movie moment that doesn’t feel real. Open mouth, unblinking eyes, blood, blood, and more blood.

  It’s hard to kill a faerie. That’s what everyone says. But Ada didn’t survive this. I can see already that she’s gone. And I can’t help thinking it wasn’t that hard at all.

  Then the reality strikes me.

  I killed someone.

  I killed Ada. Dani. The woman I believed for years was my mother.

  “EM!” someone shouts.

  Finally, I look up. I see Calla on the other side of the fighting and the unconscious bodies, running toward me. I don’t know how much she saw. I don’t know how she knew to come here. But I don’t care. All I know is that she’ll stop me from what I want to do next.

  And I’m done with her stopping me.

  Single-minded rage consumes me as I pull my stylus from my front pocket. I walk to the closest palm tree. With shaking fingers, I write a doorway spell against it. Then I walk into the darkness and don’t look back.

  Part Three

  Twenty-Three

  I need power. I need my Griffin Ability. And there’s only one way I can think of right now to get it. My hands shake and unshed tears sting behind my eyes as I stride out of the faerie paths and into the desert heat. I walk forward, gripping my stylus and sword more tightly as I try to stop the shaking. My throat hurts from forcing the tears back. The ache in my chest is so real, I think my body might actually cave in on itself.

  Don’t think. Just move.

  I force my body into autopilot mode: Through the dome layer, across the grass, aim for the tree, up and up and up all the stairs, past Vi and Ryn’s house—

  Don’t think don’t think don’t think.

  But it’s nearly impossible not to think of them. I almost break down completely as I look at their house built across two huge branches. The home they’ll never come back to. But I force myself to carry on, further up the tree. I walk into my own little house. I head for the bedside table, open the drawer, and find the two full vials of elixir. I never actually needed any of it when practicing control over my ability, so of course, I forgot all about it.

  Holding my stylus and sword together in one hand, I lift a vial, flick the stopper off, and pour the whole lot down my throat. It takes until I reach the door for the effects of that much elixir hit me. My Griffin Ability races through my body with sudden, unexpected speed. The usual ripple up my spine is now a shiver that shudders through my whole body. Dizziness tips me against the wall beside the door, and I press one hand against it, gritting my teeth and clinging to my power so I don’t lose it.

  As the room stops spinning, I breathe in deeply. I sense my Griffin magic humming just below the surface of my control, longing to be set free. Perhaps I shouldn’t have drunk that much elixir. Perhaps it was dangerous. But as long as it worked, I can’t bring myself to care.

  I walk past their house again—don’t think of them—out of the oasis, and back into the scorching heat. I tell myself I’m not falling apart, but as I open a doorway, a shuddering breath rips through me. I bite down on my lip as I hurry into the paths and picture a forest I’ve been in before.

  Pain weights me down as I stagger out of the darkness and onto the dappled forest floor of Creepy Hollow. I have no idea if I’m anywhere near the Guild, but it doesn’t matter. When I’m ready, the faerie paths will take me straight there. What I need right now is to keep myself from breaking apart. I need to focus on the rage instead of the agony and horror. But it’s almost impossible. No matter where I look, I can’t escape the image of a dead Ryn and a dead Violet. A dead Ada with her head almost completely detached.

  I turn my face toward the sky and open my mouth. The cry I let loose comes from somewhere deep inside me, carrying with it every aching emotion threatening to crush me. I scream until I have no breath left. Until my chest is so tight I almost can’t feel the pain anymore. Almost.

  It’s only when I finally stop, gasp for air, and lower my gaze that I discover I’m not alone. A winged creature about the size of my hand hovers in front of me. Its small green body is human-like, and its wings are transparent and delicate, mostly silver with a few bright spots of neon green. Before I can say a word, the creature changes. It expands, drops through the air, and on the ground stands a dragon small enough to fit in the space between the trees. An instant later, it shifts again, becoming what looks like a large dog. Shaggy hair in tones of russet and copper covers its body.

  “Bandit,” I whisper, knowing it’s him without having to ask. In a wobbly voice, I add, “You follow me everywhere.” I don’t know if he understood what happened to Vi and Ryn and Ada, but it seems to me that his beautiful gold-flecked eyes are sadder than any eyes I’ve ever looked into. He walks over and nudges his head against my hand, and that one simple gesture almost breaks me completely. I long to sink against his warm body and cry my heart out. But I refuse to give in to the pain. I won’t cry. I won’t break. I won’t let go of the anger driving me forward. If I let go of it, I might change my mind.

  And that is the last thing I want to do.

  So I breathe in deeply and tighten my grip on the sword. I don’t bother telling Bandit what to do or where to go, because he’ll stay with me anyway, in some tiny form I can’t see. I raise my stylus and lean my hand against a tree trunk as I write across it. Then I grit my teeth and step into the faerie paths.

  Standing at the edge of the darkness, a heartbeat away from embracing the hatred that’s built up inside me, I pause. For one brief moment, I hear Calla’s voice in the back of my mind: You can’t take away their free will. That isn’t right. I mentally stamp her voice down. To hell with what’s right and what isn’t. The Guild clearly doesn’t care about what’s right. How many Griffin Gifted lives have they ruined? How many families? Too many, I answer myself. And mine will be the last.

  With that thought, I march forward into the black emptiness of the paths, shoving the stylus back into my jacket. My mind is trained firmly on an image of that small, nondescript room through which people arrive at the Guild. I walk forward, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Then, up ahead of me, dim light appears in the darkness. I head straight for it.

  I step into the room, where one guard sits behind a desk and another stands beside the doorway leading to the grand and impressive main foyer. At first the two men seem almost bored. Then, as their eyes land on the sword in my hand, they frown. I suppose if I belonged here, I’d have no need for real weapons. I would use only the sparkly gold type that appear and disappear at will. The guard behind the desk stands. “Markings or pendant?” he asks. “I need to scan you before—”

  “Get down, stay down, and don’t make a sound,” I command them, my magically enhanced voice resounding throughout the small room. Both guards are knocked instantly to the floor. And there they lie—not dead, not even passed out—but silent and frozen as their eyes dart about.

  I lift the sword, rest the blade on my shoulder, and walk beneath the doorway to face the peopl
e who’ve been screwing with my life since the moment I got to this world. An alarm goes off immediately. The alarm indicating that someone with a Griffin Ability has just entered this Guild. I don’t give a damn. It’s not like I was planning to sneak in unnoticed. But the noise is almost deafening, so I tell it to shut the hell up.

  Guardians going about their daily tasks spring into action all around me. As they rush toward me, I raise my voice and unleash all my fury as I yell my command: “Every single person inside this Guild, get down on the floor and STAY THERE!” My voice echoes throughout the enormous circular room as men, women, and a few younger trainees drop to the floor all around me. Their panicked voices fill the air, so I add, “And keep quiet!”

  I stalk past them and up the grand stairway, where two guardians have collapsed about halfway up the stairs. At the top, I turn and look down. I should be seeing the men and women sprawled across the floor, but my mind overlays the scene with another image. An image of two bodies, each pinned to the earth with a blade. Tears squeeze from my eyes as I scream, “You will never, ever hurt a single Griffin Gifted fae again! You will not lock them up, you will not tag them, you will not force them to add their names to a public registry, and you most definitely will not experiment on them. And you will repeat these words to any other guardian you come across.”

  When I’m done, I don’t move. I grip the carved wooden banister with one hand and stand there, my breathing ragged. I’ve done what I came here to do. I don’t know what I expected to feel at this point, but I don’t think I wanted to feel … worse. My gaze travels from person to person, refusing to think about whether any of them might actually be against the Guild’s policy on Griffin Abilities. I need to hate them all. If I can’t, then I’ll end up thinking of how much I hate myself instead. I’ll think of the blood spilling from Ada’s neck. From Dani’s neck. She was an unwillingly participant in everything Ada did, and she died for it.

 

‹ Prev