by Elise Kova
Shaye leaps into the sky, flapping her butterfly wings behind her. Hol is at our side, using a pair of white bat-like wings that he dismisses with a thought on the opposite bank. Shaye’s flight is stronger and more sure than Davien’s. She had mentioned something about Davien being weakened by being cut off from the magic of this world. Perhaps that’s why his wings have that perpetually tattered look to them.
Davien crosses the gap with Giles in his arms. Sure enough, he more leaps and glides than truly flies like Shaye. But my cheeks still warm slightly at the memory of being in his arms—at those first sensations of weightlessness as we drifted through the starry sky. During those brief seconds where things truly seemed like they were starting anew between us.
My landing is far more graceful during my second experience of flight than the first. We touch down onto the bank on the other side. As soon as my feet meet the damp earth a shiver runs through me. Shaye grips my shoulders.
“Give it a moment, it’ll pass.”
“What…” My teeth chatter so violently I can’t finish my question. Luckily Shaye seems to know what I’m going to ask.
“The Crystal River is one of the Acolyte’s demarcation lines. You’ve left the control of the Blood Court and we have heavily warded our lands against them. The magic is feeling you out…making sure you’re not foe.”
Sure enough, as she’s speaking, the feeling of hands rubbing all over my body subsides, leaving gooseflesh in their wake. I force another shiver, trying to shake the sensation.
“What would happen if I’m foe?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Shaye grins. Before I can press, she looks to Davien. “There’s an outpost not far from here. We can make camp—”
“We continue on to Dreamsong,” Davien says, brushing past us.
“Dreamsong is another half-day’s walk.” Shaye’s hands fall from my shoulders and she rushes to be at Davien’s side. “You have to stop. She has to stop.”
Davien looks back at me with the same agitation as before. “You can heal yourself, can’t you?”
“I don’t know…” I murmur. “I have healed myself… But I’m not sure how—”
“Good. Restore strength to your muscles with the king’s magic and carry on with the rest of us.”
“My lord, I think Shaye—” Oren tries to say.
“I have spoken!” Davien’s voice echoes between the trees, long before the pinched-up agitation in his shoulders does.
“Katria…” Oren starts softly.
“I’m all right.” My turn to interrupt him. “Don’t worry about me. I can keep going.”
Oren regards me skeptically but says nothing. I’m not going to give in. I won’t be the weak human they expect, ready to topple over at any second. I can keep going.
If only I could use the power on command, however… I stare at my swollen feet. I noticed a while back they’ve begun to leave little blood spots on the moss where I walk. It doesn’t matter how soft the ground is…my feet have become one large blister that is now ripping open.
I hear the fae talk around me, but I’m too focused on my aching feet to even pay attention to the words being said. Heal, I think, Heal! But the magic does nothing. I’ve never even thought magic was real until today, why do I think I can suddenly use it on command? Yesterday? I blink up at the dawn. What day is it, anymore?
I’ve been walking forever…
The world tilts as I begin to sway. Every step is shakier than the last. My knees threaten to lock or give out.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Shaye says something to me but it’s muffled. I blink several times. The trees are becoming hazy. There’s something wrong with my eyes and ears.
“Almost there,” I think she says.
Almost…not soon enough.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Dawn has broken. The forest is alive once more. But I enjoy none of it. I’m an automaton. I move to prove it to myself and to the man with the bright green eyes who looks back every now and then just to ensure that I’m still upright.
“Look,” Giles says from some distant place. “It’s Dreamsong.”
We stand at the top of a ridge where the trees have broken. Below us, a city has been erected. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. My eyes water as the world goes sideways. The blurry metropolis tilts, spinning as I do.
Everything goes black.
I groan softly, rolling over on my feather mattress. The duvet is heavy on me. It’s as soft as it always was, pulled right up to my ears, blocking out the late morning’s sunlight.
As I yawn, consciousness slowly returns to me. I had the strangest dream. It was a long dream, too. And so vivid… I dreamed I was in the land of the fae, that I was pulled there following a ritual in the woods.
Laughing softly at myself, I push back the covers, expecting to be met with my room at Lord Fenwood’s manor. I stop with a sharp inhale. This is not that room.
Sheer curtains waft in the breezes of a late afternoon, teasing me with glimpses of a city sprawling beneath my second-story, arched windows. The bed is a simple platform, as comfortable as anything, but a stark reminder that I am very far from anything remotely familiar. I run my hands over the linens. They’re almost identical to the ones Davien used in his estate.
Did he import them from Midscape? I wonder. He must have. It occurs to me I’ve never felt any material this buttery soft. Of course it was made by magic.
My room is sparse. Whitewashed walls are split by dark beams that support a high ceiling. There’s a mirror hung above a dresser to the right of the bed. A chair is situated by the far opening.
But…that’s it.
I push back the covers and sit cross-legged to massage my feet. Just like the last time I woke up here, I’ve been healed. The soles of my feet show no signs of blistering or trauma.
So I have magic. And I can use it. Just not consciously. “Great, simply fantastic.”
When I stand, I notice that my robe and nightgown are nowhere to be seen. I’ve been dressed in a simple, silken shift. Delicate embroidery lines the neck—a similar design to the markings Shaye and Giles have on their flesh. I’m too grateful to be out of those soiled clothes to be horrified by the idea that someone stripped me down while I was unconscious.
I inspect myself in the mirror, turning right and left. The usual pallor of my skin has brightened. My hair seems a richer, more vibrant chestnut. This is more than the change I saw from the good food and easy life of Lord Fenwood’s manor. I look positively radiant. I should get forbidden, ancient magic more often.
As I twist, though, I notice the low-cut back exposes the upper edge of the gnarled scars that stretch between my shoulder blades. Whoever dressed me must’ve seen it. I feel sick and try to situate my hair over the old wound. It aches at my mere acknowledgment of it so I try and put it from my mind.
Opening the door to my room, I poke my head out into the hallway. There’s no one. I start down the hall toward a stairway at one end. The other doors along the hallway are closed—more bedrooms, I presume.
Voices drift up from the bottom of the stairs. They’re murmured and soft. But one sticks out.
“Okay, I think Shaye said it clearly enough. But just for emphasis—you were being an ass. Like a donkey. But more…stubborn and frustrating.” Giles. And I suspect I know just who he’s speaking to.
I’m not intending to creep down the stairs, it just sort of works out that way. My footsteps are light enough that no one notices me. And it’s not my fault that the table in the great hall is positioned in such a way that no one sitting around it has a clear view of me when I emerge.
“I was trying to keep us safe,” Davien insists.
“You were trying to wear her down,” Shaye says, shoveling food into her mouth. “Either because you were frustrated with her because she has the magic…or because you were trying to push her to the point of using the magic for you again so you could s
ee it. Regardless, still an ass, and you should get yourself together. It’s no way for a king to act.”
Davien glares at her. “We were being hunted by the Butchers.”
“There was a single Butcher, who we killed. Well, she killed. Great trick, that, especially to do it without a ritual to prepare the power. Once you get the magic you should learn how to do it, too.” Giles tears a piece off a loaf of bread and takes a large bite. He continues talking with his mouth full. “We might be the town screwups about most things. But we can at least make sure no one lives to tell the tale of how badly we mess up.”
“Just like that woman in the woods,” Hol murmurs over his goblet.
“Exactly like that Butcher in the woods,” Giles agrees.
They’re talking about the woman who attacked me, I realize. Shaye had mentioned something, too, about patrolling the woods on either side of the Fade. I might owe my life to more than just Davien.
“She exploded that man. A magical outburst like that certainly drew the attention of fae near and far,” Davien insists.
“Good thing no one lives in the woods, huh?” Giles grins.
“I’m certain King Wotor felt it.” Davien leans across the table. His voice becomes heavy and serious. The teasing stops. “Which means he’s going to come after me—and her by extension. He knows the old magic has returned to these lands.”
“Who’s King Wotor?” I ask, drawing their attention to me. “Yes, hello, just woke up. Is he the head Boltov?”
“He is. King Wotor Boltov the…what are we on? Tenth now?” Giles leans back in his chair, looking oddly smug. “Just stick with ‘Boltov’ because it’s easier. Anyway, he’s going to try and kill you the first chance he gets.”
“Lovely. I’m noticing a trend that, in the fae world, everything is going to kill me sooner or later.”
“Our sweet deadly home,” Giles muses to Hol, who rolls his eyes in reply.
“So how do we make sure that doesn’t happen? Because I very much like breathing.”
“Now that you’re up, the first step is to talk to Vena.” Davien stands. “If anyone will know what to do…it’s her.”
Chapter 14
The large gathering space the stairs deposited me into is connected by two massive doors to a waiting hall that leads to Vena’s audience chambers. She sits on a golden throne, surrounded by thorny roses and hummingbirds. Her rich, dark skin is offset against the sea-foam blue gown she wears and the bright green, bat-like wings that extend from her back. Her dark hair is piled high on the top of her head, pinned in place with gold-dipped flowers.
She’s speaking with three individuals when we enter. But as soon as her gaze lands on Davien and I, she shoos them with a wave of her hand.
“Davien.” The way she says his name is with deep reverence. “Our king has finally returned.” Vena stands, holding out both of her arms as she approaches. “I apologize I was not here to greet you properly on your arrival.”
“You were strengthening our western front. There is no slight.” Davien clasps forearms with her, hands nearly back at the elbows. They lean forward and when I think they are about to kiss, they tilt their heads in opposite directions, giving a peck on each cheek.
“You are gracious.” She gives a small curtsy and a bow of her head before releasing Davien. Then she turns to me. I can feel her demeanor cool some as she makes her assessment. “This is the one.” It’s not a question, so neither Davien nor I answer. Vena narrows her golden eyes as she approaches me. She grabs my cheeks with her hands, tilting my face right and left. “I can see the power in you…a mighty force that your human body struggles to contain.”
“A power that is rightfully mine.” Davien steps toward Vena as she releases me. Even though he acts like he is a king to most, he seems more of a follower in Vena’s court. “How do I free the magic of kings from her?”
Vena purses her lips, continuing to stare at me. “The power has imprinted on her. I see it coursing through her every vein. It trails her every movement.”
“Really?” I lift my arm, watching for magical sparks of light like when Davien flew, or when Giles performed his camp-making ritual. There’s nothing, and I find I’m mildly disappointed. If I’m going to be hunted for having magic, I want to reap the benefits of having magic. I want to feel as powerful as these people regard me. Not…myself. Same old Katria as I’ve always been.
“It’s not beyond freeing, is it?” Davien asks.
“Let’s hope not.” Vena’s lips tug into a frown. “This will require research and study before we decide on the best course.”
“We don’t have time—”
“Our borders are secure,” she interrupts Davien with a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you have spent your life worrying about decaying barriers and ancient rituals fading with the passage of time. But this is not your ancestral home in the Natural World. We are strong here in Midscape. We are your warriors, future king of the fae. You can entrust us to keep you safe while we deal with the final stage of reclaiming your power. We have all waited this long, we can wait a bit more.”
“Even if the borders are safe…won’t I die just from being in Midscape?” I ask. Davien’s friends made it a point to tell me just how certain my demise was for hours when I first arrived.
Vena looks me up and down once more. “Do you feel like you’re dying?”
“Well, no…” I trail off.
“You certainly don’t look as other humans have by now. You’re not withering away.” She approaches me and places her fingertips under my chin, tilting my head left and right. “In fact, you’re luminescent. Have you had our food yet?”
“Yes, in the woods.”
“And how did it taste?”
“Normal,” I say. Emphasizing how delicious it was seems unnecessary.
“Normal?” Davien repeats. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I shrug. “I was starving. I thought I might have been hallucinating.” The lie tastes like licking freshly polished cutlery. He suspects the lie, too. His eyes narrow skeptically.
“Eat again,” Vena instructs. “And inform Davien or myself immediately should anything change in flavor or nourishment. Though I suspect it won’t.”
“Why? There has never been a human—other than the Human Queen—who could live in our world. Not since the Fade was erected.” Davien folds his arms over his chest.
“I suspect it’s because of the magic within her. It’s healing her wounds, is it not? Perhaps it is also turning our food into sustenance for her, despite her being human. Or maybe it’s because the magic is a part of this world that exists within her. There’s no real precedent for what has occurred, so any explanation is viable.” Vena shrugs. “She’s alive, so that’s really all that matters, yes?”
“I definitely prefer being alive,” I chime in with the obvious. “But does that mean once the magic is out of me I’ll begin…withering?” I can’t muster the strength to say “die.”
“If my speculations are correct, then yes.” Vena nods. “So we will make certain that when we do remove the magic from you, we are also able to return you to your world in short order.”
“Could the magic be used up in keeping her alive? She’s not of this world. Her connection to it can’t strengthen the power.” Worry streaks across Davien’s face. Worry not for me, but for the magic in me. I press my lips into a bitter smile.
“I doubt the king’s magic will be used up by a human so quickly.” Vena’s words are careful. She doesn’t explicitly say no. She says she doubts, not a firm yes or no. I have to be mindful about the language of the fae. They can’t lie…but that doesn’t mean they’re always sworn to the truth, either. I think of all the times my father emphasized the tricks of negotiation—those skills will serve me well here.
“You might be right.” Davien purses his lips. He no doubt hears the same thing I do. But nothing more can be done. We’re all trapped in this unconventional circumstance. “What can I
do to assist you?”
“I will let you know as soon as I’ve discovered something worth sharing. Researching shall be my sole focus. But, in the meantime, restore your bond with this land. Strengthen your own innate magic before you inherit the power of kings.” Vena smiles in a fond and almost maternal way. “Relish in our safety and comfort before you go and reclaim your throne with battle and bloodshed.”
Davien sighs heavily. For a second, I think he’s going to put up a fight. I can see by his expression he wants to. But, to my surprise, he doesn’t.
“Very well. I leave this matter, for now, in your care, Vena.”
Vena looks to me. “And you, enjoy all Dreamsong has to offer. Places like this of peace and safety are rare in the fae wilds. Seeing it as a human is even rarer. Relish in it to your heart’s content.”
“I will, thank you.” I give a small curtsy to Vena as we leave. She has a twinkle in her eye and nods in reply. I don’t know if I should be showing her respect. But it feels right to do so.
With a few quick steps, I catch up with Davien. He glances at me from the corner of his eye. The silence between us is heavy and more awkward than it’s ever been.
I clear my throat to break the quiet and say, “For what it’s worth, I don’t mind a short reprieve here. I haven’t really had a chance to catch my breath over the past few days. It’ll be nice to feel safe.”
“You can feel safe among the fae?” he asks.
We come to a stop in the short antechamber between Vena’s audience hall and the gathering room. I bite my lip and run a hand through my hair.
“To be fair, I’ve always felt safe around you,” I admit. Even when I haven’t wanted to.
“Until you knew I was a fae.” He moves to leave.
I catch his hand. It’s as warm and soft as it was that night in the manor—the first time I wore a blindfold. “Even after…I never thought you would hurt me.”