by H. D. Gordon
As if he could sense her there, the large cat hopped gracefully down from the balcony’s ledge and pushed his way inside the room, kicking the glass door shut with his rear paw in a way that was oddly human.
If I were human, the cat told her in that silent way of his, his deep voice a welcome presence in her mind, then things between us would be interesting. He brushed the side of his body against her bare leg, making her shiver. Surah wanted so badly to tell him he had to stay, that he just could not leave her. She wanted to cry, and have Sam lick the tears from her face with his rough tongue, the way he’d done since they were both but cubs. But she would do no such thing.
She rubbed at his ears and spoke aloud, happy when her voice came out steady. “If you were human, Sam, we’d run away together, we’d leave all this behind and go where no one could find us.” She sat back on her bed, and he came forward and rested his huge head in her lap, sitting back on his haunches. She found it was harder to hold his amber stare than it should’ve been. Her eyes were beginning to burn, but she blinked it away.
“You will return, won’t you, Sam?” she asked.
Nothing could keep me from it, he answered. And I don’t need to be human for us to run away together. You say the word, say the word and you can hop atop my back and I’ll take you away from this place. We’ll go live among the Beasts. You will be mine, and I will be yours.
Surah knew he meant this, knew that every word was spoken from the heart. She responded silently now, preferring the intimacy of their shared minds. “I’m already yours, Sam, and you are forever mine.”
But your heart calls for him, doesn’t it? he asked, and she did not miss the touch of jealousy and the bit of heartache that rode the cat’s words. It was rare for Samson’s tone to take on any inflection at all, and it twisted at her soul to hear it, because they both knew he was right. We both know you love him, and that you don’t believe he ever meant to hurt you.
It was hard for Sam to say this, and it was even harder for Surah to hear it, but the love between the Sorceress and the feline was too great to ever allow for pretense. The cat would stand by her forever, and would sooner die than speak false words to her, even if the words were too true for her to even admit to herself.
To have this pointed out by her most trusted friend, her soul mate in cat form, brought on a sense of clarity that was nearly paralyzing in its enormity. Surah realized with this epiphany that she had to get to Charlie, had to save him from whatever trouble he’d found himself in. Let’s be serious, a little voice in her head—one that did not belong to her cat, but her conscience—pointed out. You’ve got to save him from whatever situation you left him in.
This thought came like a slap to the face, and urgency surged through her veins that felt like fire had been set to her blood. Her lovely face fell, and Samson only stared up at it, knowing that she was at last coming to terms with what he already knew.
“I’ve got to get to him, Sam,” she said, the words an unintended whisper. “I’ve got to make sure Charlie’s okay.”
Samson said nothing to this, only licked her hands with his warm, rough tongue.
Her voice took on that of someone centuries younger than she, that of a girl with a heavy crown placed atop her head. “I’ve got to save my kingdom, kill the Fae Queen, and get to Charlie,” she said. “I don’t know if I can, Sam. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes.”
The cat lifted his large head now and took to his feet. With her sitting on the bed before him, they were eye level, and Sam moved in close so that their noses were nearly touching, his amber eyes closing to slits as he breathed her scent in deeply. She dug her fingers into the fur around his neck and pulled him even closer.
You will do all these things you need to do, Surah, he told her. You will protect your people, and when the time comes, you will watch as the life leaves the eyes of that crazed fairy… and you will find your Charlie. He was silent a moment, turning his head a touch so that he could meet her eyes. I’m beginning to think there are no forces upon this earth that could keep the two of you apart… I’m not sure there’s really anything else you need to be sure of beyond that.
“Oh, Sam,” she said holding him close. “What have I done? What if it’s too late? What if Black Heart decided to just kill him?”
Sam blinked at her, his beautiful, feline face as expressionless as always, though she knew he was as reluctant to leave her as she was to leave him. There’s only one way to answer those questions, dear one. You need to go find your fate.
“Is that where you’re going, Sam?” she whispered. “To find your fate?”
The cat was silent a moment, the time to part drawing near. They both could feel it, so there was no need to speak the words. I guess we all are, aren’t we? he said, and licked her face in a way that was as intimate as could ever be between the two. Stepping back from her, he lifted his large head, his eyes taking on the gleam of a predator’s. Will you open a portal for me? he asked.
Surah stood from the bed and went to the closet, disappearing inside for a moment. When she returned, she was fully dressed, royal cloak over her squared shoulders, royal Stone around her neck, and the determination of a queen upon her lovely face.
She would never know how proud Sam was of her in that moment, how his heart thudded in his chest just at the sight of her. There were Beasts in all the jungles that did not have the strength of the Two-Leg before him, Beasts that did not have the might of his dearest one, of his Surah. Two-Leg or no, there wasn’t a creature in all the Territories in all the world that would ever compare, and he thought if he wanted to tell her so, he ought to do it now, because if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he would ever see her again, and this broke the heart inside his chest that had been unbreakable before he and the Sorceress had met.
Surah stepped smoothly up to him. She would do what needed to be done, and that was that. “Where would you like to go, Sam?” she asked, the White Stone glowing around her neck.
To the jungles of my homeland, he told her.
She did not look surprised. She had somehow known this was where he would go. To find his fate, she thought. And with a wave of her hand, a swirling portal large enough to step through opened before them. The slight suction of it lifted her lavender hair from her shoulders, and it danced around her face in a rhythm Sam would never tire of.
The Great Cat hesitated just before jumping through the wormhole, rubbing his head against his dearest friend one last time. I love you, Surah Stormsong, he told her. More than any cat has loved before.
“I love you, too, Sam,” she whispered, and waited until her Great Cat had stepped through the portal and it had closed behind him before falling to her bedroom floor in a puddle of heartache that did not feel queenly in the least.
CHAPTER 16
CHARLIE
The hole that had opened up in the floor of the Fae Forest and sucked him in spat him back out on an old couch in a small apartment that smelled of faint floral and old wood. When Charlie landed, his head struck the armrest of the couch, and his weight sank in on the middle cushions in a way that suggested a good number of years in use.
He rubbed at the back of his head, letting the nausea waves pass over him before sitting up and rubbing at his arms in an attempt to regain some feeling in them.
Aria landed on the floor in the middle of the small living room, but she rolled right into an agile stand with the expertise of someone who was no stranger to whatever Halfling transportation method she’d just used to bring him here.
She smirked when he gave her a slightly annoyed look while rubbing the small lump that was now forming on his head from where it had hit the armrest.
Aria placed a hand on her hip. “What?” she asked. “I think the words you’re searching for are ‘thank you’, seeing as how I dropped you on the couch. It’s not easy to land and roll the way I just did. I could’ve busted my head open on the coffee table. I’ve seen it happen before.”
Char
lie said, “Why did you bring me here?”
Aria made a face like this was a stupid question. “Because Tristell would’ve killed you if I hadn’t,” she said. “And I can’t imagine that would’ve pleased your queen.”
“My queen?”
Again with the stupid-question face. Charlie had forgotten how annoying teenage girls could be. “Surah Stormsong?” she said. “Your Sorceress Queen? Your beloved? The lady who’s half the reason you’re in this mess? Ring any bells?”
Charlie took a minute to absorb this information, though he supposed he should have already known, as he knew King Syrian had passed when the Magic flooded back into their world. But somehow, in all the thinking about her he’d done, Charlie hadn’t put two and two together.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” he said. “I’ve been a little kidnapped and held against my will.”
Aria smiled, its radiance lighting up her face. “Well, now you’re free. Again, you’re welcome.” She wandered into the small kitchen connected to the living room in which he sat, opened the refrigerator (which Charlie could see ran on electricity, not Magic, meaning they were indeed in the human world, as he suspected) and took out a red apple. “Want one?” she asked.
Charlie nodded so fervently that Aria chuckled as she tossed it to him. He caught it out of the air. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten, and just the sight of the fruit made his mouth water.
“Again,” she began, “You’re wel—”
“Thank you, Aria,” Charlie interrupted, swallowing a large bite of the sweet apple. “Thank you for freeing me from the Fae Forest and dropping me on the couch instead of the floor.” He held up the already half-eaten apple. “And thank you for the apple.”
Aria sat in the armchair across from him and gave a satisfied nod. “You’re welcome, Charlie Redmine.”
“Now, will you tell me what’s going on here?” He looked around. The apartment was small but had tall ceilings, and was furnished in a mismatched way that suggested secondhand use. There were paintings on the walls of various scenes, mostly of shadows in alleys and sunsets over a city, all done by the same unknown artist. There were two tall windows in the east wall, which revealed closely spaced gray buildings where the light of a new morning was just beginning to brighten the sky. “And where is ‘here’?” Charlie added.
Aria bit into her apple, her black-booted feet flat on the floor, as if she were ready to hop out of her seat at any instant, though her posture suggested ease. “We’re in the human world,” she said, as if transporting out of the supernatural realm was no big deal. “In a place called Blue Hook, New Jersey. You ever heard of it?”
Charlie had been to the human world a handful of times, as most Sorcerers tend to do throughout their long lives if for no other reason than curiosity, but he’d always found it to be a disappointing, somewhat sad place. Humans polluted their oceans, dug up their earth and trees, and seemed to have little to no regard for the quality of air or the sacredness of all life.
Then again, Charlie thought, he knew plenty of Sorcerers with the same qualities.
“I visited New York some years back,” he said. “Dirty, crowded place full of crooked humans and smelly sewers and more Accursed than any one place I ever been outside of Vamp Territory.”
Aria grinned. “You’ve got a particular distaste for humans, don’t you, Sorcerer?”
Charlie had forgotten that the girl was half human, and suddenly felt a little foolish. “I’m sorry,” he said, and rubbed at his chin, which needed a good shave. “I guess I’m a little on edge, and in truth, I really don’t know enough about humans to judge them like that. In my experience, there’s good and there’s bad folks in all the races.”
Her smile was less predatory now, and softened a bit. “I knew you were a good one,” she said, and leaned forward, her arms resting on her knees. The smile had slipped off her pretty face the way spring snow slips off of trees. She pointed a red-painted fingernail at him. “But if I turn out to be wrong about you, I’ll kill you quick as a Christmas Goose.” Her grin returned. “Got it?”
Charlie held his hands up, trying to keep a small smile from his face. If he was sure he could trust her, he would probably like the girl, but he wasn’t sure of this in the least. He also had no idea what the heck a “Christmas Goose” was.
“Okay,” he said. “Why’d you bring me here, then?”
“This is my apartment,” Aria said, obviously proud of the fact. “And you’ll be safe here until she comes to get you.”
“Where are your parents?” he asked, knowing the girl could not be older than seventeen. “And safe until who comes to get me?”
At the mention of her parents, Aria’s face darkened in a way that Charlie would not have thought possible before. It was a look he knew well, a distance to the eyes that spoke of loss and heartache, anger and a need for revenge, and he did not need for her to speak on the matter of her family. It was clear that the girl did not have any family left. Charlie knew this because he’d seen the look on his own face so many years ago, when he’d been not too much younger than her.
Aria’s chin lifted, and her eyes remained dry and focused as she spoke, causing Charlie’s respect for the girl to grow. “It’s just me,” Aria said. “And until Queen Surah comes to get you.” She paused, her dark brow lifting and some of the humor he could now see she wore as a safeguard against the world came back to her face. “You’re not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?” she asked.
“Why do you think Queen Surah is coming to get me?”
Stupid-question face. “Because you two are ‘getting it on’, aren’t you?”
Charlie almost choked on the last bite of his apple. “Excuse me?” he said.
Aria smirked. “You’re lovers, right?” she sighed, taking on the dreamy look only teenage girls seem capable of. “Star-crossed lovers,” she added.
“How do you know that?” he asked, but before she could give him the stupid-question look again, he held up his hand. “Wait, I know. It’s your job to know stuff, right?”
Another radiant smile. “Bingo! We have a winner!”
Charlie rubbed at his chin, his large shoulders falling a fraction. “Well, I hate to break it to you, darlin’,” he said, “but I don’t think she’s comin’ after me.” He shook his head, recalling the way Surah had looked at him when she’d learned of his involvement in the deaths of her mother and sister, the hot, red hatred that had burned behind her violet eyes and right into his soul.
“In fact, I’m pretty sure she hates me.”
He hadn’t really meant to say that part aloud, but there it was. Aria had been leaning back, observing her fingernails, but she sat forward again, catching his eyes and holding them. “But you love her, don’t you?” she asked.
What was the point in lying? How could it make the situation worse? It couldn’t. “Yeah,” he said. “I love her.”
Aria’s bright green eyes narrowed, her full lips pursing slightly in thought. A moment of silence passed before she leaned back again, kicking her feet up over the armrest of the chair in which she was sitting, boots dangling in the air. She closed her eyes and laid back against the chair in a position that only really young people and cats would be comfortable in. Without opening her eyes, she grabbed a small beanbag from the end table beside her and threw it at the western wall behind her chair. The beanbag struck the light switch there with a thud, and the lights in the room went out, casting early morning shadows into all the corners.
“She’s coming for you, Charlie,” Aria said, shifting a little in her seat. “Get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”
Charlie sat quietly for a moment before lying back on the couch and closing his own eyes. When he finally spoke, he was not expecting a response from her, because he thought she’d fallen asleep.
His deep voice was just above a whisper when he asked, “How can you be so sure, Aria?” he asked. “What makes you positive she’ll come for me?”
; She didn’t answer for so long that he decided she actually was asleep, and just before he decided to take her advice and try for some rest himself, Aria lifted her head and looked at him, her bright green eyes glittering like emeralds in the soft, dim light of the morning.
“Have you looked in the mirror lately, Charlie?” the half-Fae, half-human girl asked, a mischievous smirk pulling up her pink mouth. “I’m not sure there are too many women who wouldn’t come after you. Now sleep, old man, and don’t you worry, if someone attacks us, I’ll totally protect you.” Her straight, white teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Face like that, you gotta be careful,” she added with a wink that was way too charming for her own good.
Charlie would not have thought it possible, but he let out a laugh—the first real laugh he could recall in what seemed like a lifetime, and found that sleep came easy after all. He dreamed of Surah again, a dream he’d had a million times on endless nights and drawn out dawns, atop a hilltop in the Sorcerer countryside, a blanket spread out beneath him and his love, the sun rising over the horizon and bathing the forsaken couple in golden light.
But before it was through, the dream slipped into a nightmare, the light of the sun fading away, and the blackness of night drowning the world, blanketing him and Surah on their hillside, the stars falling from the sky in bright streaks that crossed paths in an endless pattern of burning X’s.
CHAPTER 17
SURAH
She rose well before the sun, standing before the glass doors of her balcony, which overlooked the Sorcerer City below. At this early hour, the city was awash in a sweet blue and violet light, the night not quite completely receded from the corners, where deep shadows clung tightly before slowly giving way to morning.