by Sumida, Amy
“A what?”
“Someone who just gives orders, like a slave master,” I turned and headed back to the castle. “How lonely it must be for you.”
“I...” he chased after me. “I'm not alone.”
“No but you are lonely,” I cast him a smug glance. “Now tell me where I can find someone who can help her.”
“Uh,” he shook his head, “we are fire fey, we don't usually have to treat someone for burns.”
“There must be one of you who knows something about healing instead of hurting.”
He stopped walking, staring at me with his mouth agape. So I stopped to stare back.
“How monstrous we must appear to you,” he whispered and then looked down at the little pixie as if seeing her for the first time.
“Strength is not crushing those who are weaker than you,” I touched his shoulder and he brought his eyes to mine again. “Strength is being able to crush them but choosing to protect them instead. A King should protect his people, all of them,” I looked down pointedly to the pixie and she stared back at the dragon-sidhe solemnly. Her face was blackened, most of her hair gone, and she was starting to shiver, probably from shock. “You sit on a throne for a reason, because you're supposed to be the best of them. So be the best. Take care of your people.”
I held the pixie up and we both stared him down.
“My apologies, little one,” he finally said gravely to the pixie. “I will try to be a better King.”
“Accepted,” her tiny, bell-like voice carried up to him and he blinked from her to me, as if surprised she could speak at all. “I will tell the others of your new found honor, my King.” She paused and looked back at me. “Blessings upon you and your lady.”
That she could speak at all past her obvious pain, shocked me too. I couldn't understand why Arach had such a bad opinion of her kind. I'd known her all of five minutes and already she'd impressed me.
“Thank you,” I smiled down to her. “Now let's get you cared for. Arach?”
“Uh, right,” he frowned. “I believe one of the leanan-sidhe may have something.”
He led us through the maze of his castle, glancing back at me every few steps with the oddest expression on his face.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Arach took me and Lissa, the pixie, to a leanan-sidhe named Ciaran. The leanan-sidhe were a type of vampire and Ciaran, was one of the few males born to the overly female race. He was a very graceful man, all of his movements languid, almost hypnotizing, but he was fascinated by Lissa. Or maybe just by the fact that Arach had brought her to him to be healed.
Either way, Ciaran had healed the pixie with his own blood, a neat trick if you ask me, and then we'd taken her back out to where we'd found her. She ran off into the dangerous trees as if they were sanctuary for her, which they probably were, things in Faerie were so strange. What was danger to one person was solace to another.
“This idea of compassionate ruling,” Arach started again as we went back inside. “Is it a trick? A type of magic?”
“Why would you ask that?” I stopped and faced him.
“It is doing something inside me,” he rubbed at his chest worriedly. “I think maybe I should stop.”
“That's guilt,” I pushed his hand away. “You know, deep inside, that you've been cruel and now you're feeling bad about it. I've seen into you,” I took his hand, since it was hanging so forlornly by his side after I'd pushed at it. “I know you have honor. I know you're brave and you want what's best for your people. I saw that last night in the cavern, how you hurt for the pain you'd inflicted on your fey. I know you were willing to be with me, with something you hate, in order to give them an heir. You can be a good King. You just need to let go of this notion that being royalty means you have to be an emotionless bastard, and open your eyes.”
“I don't hate you,” he whispered.
“You hate what this body represents,” I closed my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “I even understand why you hate humans. I would hate them too if they destroyed my family. Humans can be bloodthirsty, vicious, and cruel, even to each other. Hell, especially to each other. Yours isn't the only race they've tried to extinguish. There was an evil man once, who almost succeeded in exterminating the entire Jewish race, while torturing them along the way.”
“We are the last of the dragon-sidhe, Vervain,” he whispered. “If you don't have a child with me, they will have succeeded in killing off our race.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “What horrible, hateful creatures. Yet it was I who stopped you from grinding that girl under your boot, just for getting in the path of my fire.”
He frowned.
“There is evil in all races,” I squeezed his hand, “and there is also good. Usually there's a mix of both in everyone, you just need to decide which you're going to allow to be greater. I can't make up your mind for you,” I let his hand go, “and I can't force you to rule like I think you should. All I can do is hope that you'll forgive the atrocity my people committed on yours and let go of the anger that has been affecting the way you govern.”
“I don't know if I can forgive,” his cheekbones went into sudden, sharp relief. “I don't think I even want to.”
“And that is why it's so much harder to love.”
“I don't understand.”
“Evil begets more evil,” I smiled sadly. “It's easy to perpetuate cruelty by pushing your anger off on another victim, who in turn will spread their hate onward. Love is much harder. To have the strength to change what you can but accept what is unchangeable and to leave it alone. To create a new foundation and rebuild without thoughts of destroying. To let go of your hate and learn to live in love.”
“You're saying that the humans are still winning,” he growled. “They hurt me and now I hurt others because of what they did.”
“Exactly,” I looked out to the shafts of sunlight trying to pierce the darkness of the cave. “Maybe it's time to stop letting them win.”
“Time to be a King,” he nodded slowly. “You're right. I had no outlet for my anger. I was too young to lead my people to war when my parents were killed and when I was finally of age, the Realm had been sealed and I was alone. I took my hatred out on my people.”
“No more excuses,” I pointed at him. “Just fix it.”
He gave a startled laugh and then nodded. “Yes, little dragon-human. I shall endeavor to fix it.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Arach did try his best to fix it. Everyday I saw more of the anger slip away from him as he did his best to become a better King. In turn, his subjects became more open, smiling and treating each other with more kindness as well. Even those from below came cautiously up and roamed the halls. Arach hadn't even needed to tell the other fey to be kinder to them, they'd accepted the ones from below easily, although they did tend to give them a wide berth and cautious looks. The red caps were more effusive in their welcome, seeming overjoyed to find them out of the cave and actually enticing some of them into sparring with them. It wasn't a hippie love fest or anything but there was a happier ambiance in the House of Fire than there'd been when I'd first arrived.
I roamed the castle more freely now, no longer afraid of what might be lurking about in the shadows. I'd already seen the worst and found the best in them. I was finally feeling at home in this strange place.
I was musing on this as I walked the corridor towards the dining room, so distracted that I took a wrong turn. I ended up in a hole of a room, dark but warm. I made to turn around and tripped over something, falling to my hands and knees. There was something soft below me, making strange mewls, so I rolled away but not before a low growling started.
Before I could do anything, I was bit. Something large was clamped to my wrist and worrying at me painfully. I looked down but all I could see in the darkness was a pair of burning red eyes. I screamed and pulled away, more from pain than fear, but the thing at my wrist had a strong grip and I ended up sitting on my butt, staring up
into those eyes.
I kicked out, meeting a soft furry body, but the thing held tight and I felt blood start to drip down my wrist. Then suddenly there was light. A lot of it.
I blinked around me in confusion, taking in my attacker, a large black dog. She backed away whining, staring at the light source with a narrowed gaze, as a litter of pups cried behind her. I understood then why she had been so aggressive. I'd threatened her children. Unfortunately, Arach didn't spare the time to assess things as I had. He just came swooping in like an avenging angel, fiery torch held aloft.
“No!” I screamed and threw myself in between him and the dog.
Both dog and man stopped to stare at me. So I was able to jump to my feet and push Arach from the room. He went reluctantly, his torch drooping to the side until he finally put it back in its wall bracket.
“Vervain,” he took my bleeding wrist and held it up for inspection. “I'm going to murder that bitch.”
“Leave her be,” I turned his face up to mine, ignoring the flaming ache in my wrist. “I stumbled in there by accident and fell on her pups. It was a mistake. She was only protecting her young, like any mother would. You need to look closer before you take action, especially when there are those involved who can't speak for themselves. This is a perfect situation for you to practice another Kingly attribute, fair judgment. Sometimes you need to look beyond the obvious to see what the truth is.”
“Who taught you all of this?” He gaped at me, eyes wide.
“I don't know,” I frowned, “but I feel like I've done this before, led people and judged them. I feel like it was as much of a struggle for me as it is for you but I learned. I'm not saying I know everything about how to be a just and good leader but I think that the key is being open to new knowledge. Having good advisers helps too.”
“Hmmm,” he seemed to consider it. “There may be a few fey I could trust in an advisory capacity.”
“Good,” I smiled and then frowned down at my hand. “That would help keep you aware of what kind of issues your people are having too.” I was thinking about that dark cave again, the flood of monsters who were no longer so monstrous to me.
“I do hold court to air grievances and discuss matters of the kingdom but a council of advisers may be helpful. Someone to point things out that I may have missed.”
“My King,” a shaggy haired man came running up to us, panting, and dropped to his knees when he saw my injury. “I heard the screaming but I had no idea your lady was involved. Please take your anger out on me, my Neala knows not what she did.”
“See,” I told Arach. “It was an accident.”
“Very well,” Arach waved at the man. “Get up, there's no need for that if it truly was a misunderstanding.”
“Thank you,” the man stammered. “I'm so sorry, m'lady.”
“No, it's fine,” I waved him over to his dog. “Go and see to the puppies. I hope I didn't hurt any of them.”
“I'm sure they're okay,” he grinned and scurried into the room. “My children are born fighters.”
“Okay,” I smiled and then lost it as my face went blank. “Did he just say those are his children?”
“They're phookas,” Arach nodded and led me back toward our bedroom. “Let's get this healed up.”
“Phookas?”
“They're a type of fey shifter,” he nodded and bent his head over my wrist.
“Hey,” I pulled my hand back when I felt him take a lick.
“What?” He gave me big innocent eyes. “I'm cleaning the wound.”
“I hardly think that's hygienic.”
“I can heal you with my fire, Vervain,” he laughed. “You don't need to worry about infection.”
“You can heal a wound with fire?” I scoffed.
“We're dragon-sidhe,” he shook his head. “Our flames can heal each other. Give me back your hand. I was going to wait till we were in our bedroom but since you're so disbelieving, I'll do it here.”
I held out my wrist to him but the wound was already healing on its own. I gaped at it and then looked up into his shocked face.
“You didn't have anything to do with this?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“I believe that's your other magic coming into play,” he frowned. “I had no idea gods could heal so quickly.”
“Me either,” I gave a shocked laugh, “but I'd still like to see this fire healing of yours.”
“Of course,” he immediately sent a small stream of fire over what remained of the wound. It heated and started to itch before closing the rest of the way. When he stopped, my skin was left perfect and whole.
“That's freakin' amazing,” I looked my wrist over.
“That's nothing,” he laughed. “I haven't even begun to show you what we can do.”
“You're supposed to say, Baby, you ain't seen nuthin yet.” I laughed.
“I am?” He smiled oddly at me. “According to who?”
“Well,” I frowned and tried to remember but it made my head hurt too much, so I gave up. “I have no idea.”
“Well, either way,” he grinned. “I don't seem to be the only one full of surprises. As immortal fey, we heal quicker than a human but not nearly as fast as that. We still have the need of healing charms but you, you really didn't need me at all.”
“I wouldn't say that.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Splish
Splish
Splat
I frowned and walked toward the sound. What was it? A leak? No, it was coming from the bedroom but who's bedroom? I didn't recognize this spacious place with its white walls and high ceilings. So much white, I felt a little blinded by it all. I squinted and moved forward.
Splish
Splish
What was making that dripping sound? I reached the door to the bedroom and walked in, noting how the color scheme remained the same, white on white. Except for the large pool of vibrant red that was slowly growing beneath the bed. A finger trailed down to barely touch the surface like God reaching out in The Creation of Adam.
I stepped closer and froze. I don't think Michelangelo had ever envisioned god as headless. I don't even know why I was so sure it was God and not Adam who was lying in that white bed like he hung suspended in the Heavens, but I was sure. The headless corpse had once been a god.
Then the room changed, becoming another bedroom with another dead god, and another, and another. An endless stream of images assaulted me, until I was left crouching over the last body, or was it the first? What a strange thing to wonder. I stared down at the dark-skinned god, whose head was still attached but barely, and his eyes stared back at me in accusation.
I looked down at my bloodstained hands, my bloodstained body, and the knife I still held. It fell in slow motion, clattering onto the marble floor with an echoing that increased steadily till I raised my hands and covered my ears, uncaring that I smeared blood all over myself.
Then I started to scream.
“Vervain!” Strong hands on my arms, a strong voice cutting through my nightmare. “Wake up, sweetling, it's but a dream.”
I gasped awake and stared up into the dragon eyes that seemed to fill my whole world lately. They should have comforted me but they didn't. There was something about the dream that hadn't felt dream-like, more like a memory.
“I think I've killed people,” I whispered. “No, not people, gods. Does that make any sense?”
“Hush, my love, my treasure,” he rolled back down and pulled me into his side. “It was just a nightmare, no truth to it.”
“But it didn't feel like a nightmare,” I snuggled in deeper, a crease forming on my brow. “Arach, I think they were memories.”
“Tell me,” he said simply.
And I did. I told him about the blood, the corpses, and the sense that although I had murdered, I'd done it out of love and justice. I'd done it for someone or for myself, I wasn't sure, but I knew the horror of it all was the price I paid, a price I was determined to pay so that I
would never become as monstrous as the gods I killed.
“Why would I kill gods?” I looked at him. “I wasn't aware that they even existed.”
“They don't, A Thaisce,” he whispered and kissed my forehead. “Go back to sleep and I will watch over you. No more bad dreams will reach you.”
“I'll try,” I let my head role back onto my pillow and curled into my side but he curled around me, his heart beating against my back and his arms encircling me like a shield.
Just before I drifted off, I felt his hand smoothing back my hair and heard him whisper. “What horrors have you seen, my love, that they can break through faerie magic to haunt you?”
Chapter Fifty
“I saw you today,” Arach was lying across the bed we shared, staring at me pensively.
“Saw me where?” I glanced at him over my shoulder. I was sitting at my dressing table, the one he'd had made for me to sit at and brush my hair.
“With the Hidden Ones.”
“The Hidden...” I frowned and then realized whom he was referring to. I'd gone to see the creatures who lived below the castle. I'd wanted to be sure they were happy now, that all their needs were being met. “Ah, yes. I went to make sure they were alright.”
“Yes,” he cocked his head to regard me, “I heard you talking to them.”
“Why are you surprised?” I put the hairbrush down and turned in my seat to look at him. “Or is it confusion I see in your face?”
“Both, I guess,” he made a huffing sound of mirth. “I hadn't expected you to go down there again after what you'd seen.”
“What I'd seen?” I frowned. “You were there with me, what exactly do you think I saw that would hinder my return?”
“The monsters, of course.”
“Don't call them that,” I had stood up abruptly and didn't realized it until the sound of my chair hitting the floor startled me.
“What shall I call them?” He had a small smile hovering around his lips.