by H. D. Gordon
The Fae Queen was grinning widely, her sharp teeth poking out over her full rep lips. “As if you could, Sorcerer,” she laughed. She took to her wings and shot up into the air, her long, flowing dress billowing out around her. “Seize him,” she said, and the Fae Warriors began to move in.
Then Aria flew out of a tree like a monkey, landing on the Fae Queen’s back and holding an iron blade to her throat. There was a struggle as the two hit the ground, and miraculously Aria kept her hold of the Queen, though the fall had surely knocked the wind out of her.
“Call the Warriors off, Tristell,” the Halfling girl said, her voice colder and flatter than Charlie had ever heard it, the words coming out between clenched teeth. She pressed the blade against the Fae Queen’s neck, where the iron sizzled the skin, making the Queen grimace in pain. To her credit, Tristell did not cry out, though the iron was clearly burning her. She held out her hands, and the Fae Warriors who had been closing in on Charlie halted in their tracks.
Aria’s mouth was held in a tight line, a look of vengeance in her green eyes. “Good,” she said. “We’re gonna have us a little chat.”
CHAPTER 37
SURAH
They were coming. It was not far off now. She could practically see the whole thing playing out before her, could feel the storm on the wind. She looked up at the vast sky above her, stretched out endlessly in every direction. Clouds had moved in, blotting out the sun, turning the day from a warm, golden yellow to a somber, foreboding steel. It was as if the land itself, the very atmosphere, was aware of what was coming. As if the earth beneath her feet was preparing itself to absorb the blood.
Her thoughts, much like the sky, were storming over, thunderheads having rolled in and doused out the sun that had once lived there with their careless rains. Surah Stormsong was distantly aware of the lack of light within her, but she could not find it in herself to care.
In her once-violet eyes, that inky black sickness continued to swirl.
Her right hand tightened around the Black Stone hanging about her neck. She could not afford to take it off during such times, and so she did not dare. No, she needed the protection of the Black Stone. Her people needed its protection. It had aided her well thus far. Better than she’d anticipated, even. She had everything completely within her control.
“Your majesty?”
Surah’s head whipped in the direction of the voice, her eyes flashing darkly. She sighed with annoyance as she saw it was only the Shaman, Bassil. “What is it?” she asked, turning back to take in the city, which lay to the west, and the country that surrounded it in every direction, an island amidst a sea. This hill where Dagon had challenged her was a perfect spot, it amazed her that she hadn’t spent much time here.
Bassil’s tone was wary, hesitant. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Of course I am,” she said. When he didn’t leave, she turned her gaze on him once more, eyebrows raised. “What is it you want? I’ve got work to do.”
“I want to know what work that is, your majesty,” he answered.
Anger surged through Surah, hot and lightning fast. Her hand rose into the air, lifting the Shaman off his feet without even touching him. Her fist clenched, and he began to clutch at his throat, the air cut off from his lungs.
“That’s no concern of yours,” she said, but the voice coming out of her was not entirely her own. It hummed with a dark power that vibrated in the bones.
Opening her fist, her hand dropped to her side, and the Shaman dropped to the ground along with it, hitting the hard earth with a thud. He sat silent where he was for a moment, staring up at her with wide eyes, his hands still holding his neck.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
The Shaman shook his head, scrambled to his feet, and retreated, nearly tripping down the hill on which they stood in an effort to return to the castle. Where she’d told him to stay. Where she’d told Theo and Lyonell and Noelani to stay as well. And now they were dead. They were dead because they hadn’t listened to her.
And now lines had been crossed that could not be retreaded. Now there was no going back, but only forward. Forward and through, by whatever means necessary.
She lifted her hands over her head, the Black Stone around her neck glowing darkly. Using the Magic, she would address her people. The Black Stone had more than enough power for her message to be heard all throughout her Territory. She could have settled for a verbal message, but she wanted her people to see the resolution in her eyes. She wanted them to understand what she was doing for them. They had been so quick to turn against her, so fast to condemn Charlie and her. They had no idea how much she’d sacrificed for them over the years.
They were ungrateful, undeserving people… and that was not something that could be accepted any longer, now that she was their queen.
The image of her now was appearing in the air before everyone in the Sorcerer Territory. The hillside on which she stood, the capital city to her west, the country spread out beyond it. Surah Stormsong was not aware of how she came across to the people that day, of the picture she painted by using her Dark Magic to reach them. The angry sky rolled behind her, the wind picked up the edges of her fine cloak, which was darker in some spots where the Dark Lord’s blood had sprayed her. Some of the black, sticky gore was smeared across the creamy skin of her forehead, a small spattering of it on the left side of her chin, which was held royally high, as always.
Her hood was not covering her lavender hair, which curled wildly around her smooth face. The same insistent wind that was tugging at her cloak lifted her purple locks off her shoulders. Her stained hands were clenched into tight fists. The Black Stone pulsed and glowed against the skin below her neck. Ebony swirled unnaturally in the purple of her eyes, leaking out into the whites at the edges, writhing as if something alive.
“People of the Sorcerer Kingdom,” she began, her voice maintaining that resounding quality even through the translation. It was calm and steady, almost eerily so, considering the circumstances. “I address you now as your queen, Surah Stormsong, daughter of our late king, Syrian Stormsong, the last of my name.
This past week has been a challenging time for our kind, and the losses we’ve faced have been felt by all. I stand before you now having been accused of treachery, of putting the needs of royals before those of the common Sorcerer people. These lies offend me. Those who have spread them are my enemies, and as such are yours as well. As your queen, I can assure you that those who have brought us all such misfortune will pay in full for what they’ve done.”
The wind picked up around her, blowing her hair around her face, cooling her too-warm skin. All throughout Sorcerer Territory, royals and common people alike were watching the projection of their queen with rapt attention and alarm. They had never seen a Surah Stormsong like the one they were seeing now.
“I won’t lie to you. I never have, and in this troubling time, I won’t start now. We are under threat from the Fae, who have aligned themselves with both the Dark Sorcerer known as Black Heart and a Dark Lord by the name of Dagon. Dagon is no longer a threat, but I suspect a few of his Demons may find their way here in the very near future.”
She paused. She could not see all the people she was addressing, but she was right in giving them time to absorb this. Had she been able to look at their faces, she might have taken note of the horror that dominated their expressions. As it was, she might not even care.
Why should they not be terrorized? She’d spent the last month being so.
Surah continued on in that same calm, resounding, and deceptively cool voice. She wanted to make sure they heard every word she said. “Along with the Fae army, and one of our own, these creatures will be coming for us. The Magic protecting the borders will hold for sometime, but not forever. You will have noticed that I’ve divided the Hunters, sent them to protect you.
This means I stand here unprotected, along with the castle my family has so long called our home. I hope you feel saf
e knowing the Hunters are at your side, and take into consideration what it means.” She paused here, feeling the truth of her words deep down in her soul. She knew speaking to them all in such a raw, bare manner was unprecedented, but honestly, what did she have left to lose?
“I’ve never held myself above you,” Queen Surah Stormsong said. “Those of you who’ve met me personally know this. I can’t speak to how other royals behave, but I can tell you that they are receiving the same amount of protection right now as you.”
She took a deep breath, laying the last of the cards upon the table, where everyone within Sorcerer Territory could see.
“As for the matter of Charlie Redmine… It’s true that he’s the brother of the treasonous Sorcerer Black Heart, but the truths of the allegations against him stop there. He has done nothing to aid his brother in his plots against the crown, and he is not an enemy in the eyes of your queen, but an upstanding citizen in the Sorcerer community. This is my word, and those who would deny it are traitors to the throne.
Now… as for what’s coming next. I invite you to take cover and wait out the storm, to stay close to the Hunters who’ve been sent to protect you… and to watch closely what happens next.”
A smile came to Surah’s face, and throughout her kingdom many people felt a chill sweep through their bones.
“I’m not a queen who speaks but does not show. I’m not a coward, nor someone who fears the battlefield. I invite you to use whatever Magic you possess to watch what happens next, to watch your queen, the woman who stands accused of putting her needs above yours, sacrifice everything to maintain your safety.”
The smile upon her face slipped away, and the look of a warrior replaced it. “I invite you to watch as I slaughter every Fae, Demon, and Sorcerer who would stand against us. And don’t worry about the Magic around the borders, where many of you live. It will hold.”
Surah raised her hands into the air, Dark Magic sparking at her fingertips, that inky black swirling in her eyes much like the thunderheads swirling in the angry sky above.
The air above Surah’s head began to turn in the manner of a vortex, the colors mixing and swirling like wet paint. The wind picked up to a near gale force. The Black Stone glowed and throbbed at her neck.
“It will hold,” she said, “because I’m going to open the door right here, so that anyone trying to force their way into our Territory will come straight to me, so I can show them what becomes of those who threaten our kind… And, please, if there are young children among you, send them to another room. It’s their innocence I’m really protecting, my soul I’m trading for theirs.”
All throughout Sorcerer Territory, the Magic image of Queen Surah Stormsong blipped out of sight. People gathered their crystal balls, their potions, their special stones and whatever other materials they needed to tune into the show. Mothers covered the eyes of their children, whole families cowered in their hiding places while doing whatever they had to in order to see the battle that was coming. In a morbid way, they all had to watch, the same way that one must watch when stumbling upon a gruesome accident. Whoever won and whoever lost, it would be one hell of a program, one hell of a show.
Also, they were scared, many of them were more scared than they could ever remember being. Not only was their homeland under attack, but their queen was clearly in the throes of very bad Magic, so no matter what came next, things were going to be messy.
Very messy, indeed.
CHAPTER 38
CHARLIE
The tension in the forest was thick enough to slice, the silence heavy in the green air. Charlie stood at the ready, his muscles coiled and prepared for attack. All around him, still maintaining their tight circle, Fae Hunters stood in much the same manner, spears and bows and arrows poised, waiting for the moment to move.
Aria was still wrapped around the Fae Queen, her strong legs pinning her wings and arms to her sides while she held the iron blade tight to her throat. Aria was on her back, Tristell atop her and likewise, both facing skyward. It was an intimate, awkward position, but Charlie could see that it was nearly the only way to keep the bitch restrained, and a newfound respect for the Halfling girl filled him. She was a ballsy little thing.
Aria’s eyes darted to the side, where a vine was slowly creeping over the ground. She spoke quickly behind clenched teeth, her lips nearly touching the Fae Queen’s ear. “If that vine comes any closer,” Aria said, “I’ll slit your throat right now.”
The creeping vegetation halted, and Tristell gritted out some birdlike chirp that was Faevian language, though one did not have to speak the strange tongue to know she’d just cursed an insult.
Whatever the Fae Queen said made Aria roll her eyes. “No need for name calling,” she said. “I’ll remove the blade from your neck after you answer a few questions, and since not everyone here understands our language, English will do just fine.”
The skin on Tristell’s throat was still sizzling where the iron was touching it, and her face was pulled taut with pain. Even from where Charlie was standing, he could see the murder in her slanted eyes. He hoped like hell Aria knew what she was doing.
“Our language?” the Fae Queen spat. “You’re not one of us, Halfling. I can smell the human in your skin… and where are your wings? Oh, that’s right, Halflings can’t fly. Don’t insult Faevian kind by including yourself within it, child.”
Charlie could tell by the dark look that passed over Aria’s face that these words were a serious insult, particularly the part about not having wings. For the first time since he’d met the Halfling girl, he wondered what it must be like to be a Fae without wings. He thought now that it would be kind of like being a Sorcerer without Magic, or a Vampire without fangs.
Aria ignored the barbs, her voice impressively even. “Do you know who I am?” she asked. When Tristell didn’t answer, she dug the blade a little deeper into her skin. Tristell made a small sound that was part growl, part squeal.
“One more time,” Aria said. “Do you know who I am?”
“You call yourself Aria Fae in the human world. You are a Peace Broker. Though I can’t imagine you’re here on orders.”
“If you know that,” Aria replied, “then you know why I’m here. I want to know what’s happened to my mother.”
“Your mother?”
The blade dug deeper. Tristell gave another half growl, half squeal. “Don’t play dumb,” Aria threatened.
“Fine,” Tristell spat. “There was an accident. Your mother was among those who got caught in it. I’m sorry. She’s dead.”
Charlie couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a little moisture gather in Aria’s eyes before she blinked it quickly away. Her features darkened as she absorbed this, but her voice came out steady when she spoke. “We both know it wasn’t an accident, Tristell. I want the truth.”
“Foolish child. What will you do when you find out?”
“I’ll seek justice accordingly. Now, talk.”
“Elisa meddled where she should not have,” the Fae Queen said. “It cost her her life. Now release me before you really piss me off. I’ve got a kingdom to steal.”
“I should kill you right now,” Aria said.
“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” taunted the Fae Queen. “You can’t, can you? It goes against Fae nature.”
“You said yourself I’m not one of you,” Aria replied. “And you don’t seem to struggle at all with taking life.”
“Well,” said Tristell, “now’s your chance…”
Time froze as Charlie held his breath. In his head, he was screaming at Aria to just do the deed already, and liberate them all from the Fae Queen’s malevolence. There were clearly issues with Tristell among her own kind that were deeper than Charlie was privy to, and killing her would seem to be doing everyone a favor.
But, apparently, Tristell had been right about Aria’s hesitance to take her life, because in the next heartbeat the Fae Queen sprung off the ground with animal-like agility. Her large,
feathered wings extended and knocked Aria free of her hold, sending the Halfling girl flying through the air before colliding with a tree. Her small body struck its truck hard enough to make Charlie cringe.
Fae Warriors rushed him, and he kicked the first one hard in the gut, sending him back onto his rear. The next he sliced with the iron blade Aria had lent him, the Fae’s skin sizzling the same as Tristell’s had. This made the others approaching take pause, and several of them launched spears at him. He avoided most of them with a quick roll to the left, but one of them lodged itself in his right shoulder deep enough to send an electric shock all the way down to his fingers.
Panic swirled in him as he realized he was hopelessly outmatched. He bit down on the sensation, refusing to give into its implications. The more of these Fae Warriors he killed, the less there was of them to attack Surah. At least his death here would not be in total vain, and he would take with him as many of them as he could.
What happened next happened very fast, and he could only stand where he was and watch. Aria appeared as if from nowhere, having sprung up from the ground with the same agility the Fae Queen had exhibited only moments ago. She leapt up the side of a tree near Charlie, running up it as if it were flat rather than vertical, and spun in the air like a ball, clearing the Fae Warrior’s heads who stood between her and Charlie by several feet.
She landed at his side with a soft thud, her balance as strong as a cat’s. Her hand gripped Charlie’s, and then the two of them were falling through time and space.
***
The sensation was all encompassing. If Charlie had to compare it to something, he would say it was like being scooped up by an enormous, invisible hand and slingshot across the universe. Colors and objects and distance became nothing more than white blurs. His mind could do nothing but hang on to sanity by shutting his eyes, the way one might when getting on a rollercoaster for the first time.