Rise of the Fae (Dragon's Gift

by Linsey Hall

  But the message was clear.

  “Run,” I said.

  The four of us sprinted past the monk. My Seeker sense dragged us down the hall, pulling me toward the abbot in his tower. There was a loud clattering sound behind us, and I knew it had to be the tureen smashing to the ground.

  I glanced behind, just in time to see the monk thrust out a hand and shoot a blast of light at us.

  “Duck!” I dived low, narrowly avoiding the shot of magic.

  My friends followed suit.

  The magic slammed into the wall in front of us, chipping the stone.

  “Damn, they’re serious about protecting this place,” Aeri muttered.

  No wonder they knew the location of the Dragon Bloods. They were magical monks.

  I scrambled upright and looked back. Three more ghosts had joined our attacker. They sprinted for us.

  “Move!” I raced ahead, determined not to launch an attack. They were just protecting their turf. No way I was going to hurt a bunch of old men of god.

  My friends seemed to agree. We sprinted down the hall, dodging and darting. As we turned the corner in the hall, Burn appeared at my side.

  “Go scare them!” I commanded. “But don’t hurt them!”

  Burn gave a low woof of understanding, and careened around, sprinting toward the monks. I looked back to see him crouch and growl. The monk’s blasts of magic hit him, and he only grew stronger, vibrating with energy and joy.

  Burn loved shit like this.

  The four monks skidded to a halt, their brown robes flapping around their legs as their eyes widened in shock.

  They shouted, words I didn’t understand but their meaning was clear enough.

  Burn was a hell dog to them, and they didn't like him.

  “Look where you’re going!” Aeri shouted.

  I turned back just in time to see some stairs rising up ahead of us.

  “Crap!” I leapt onto them, avoiding tripping.

  “Is the abbot up there?” Tarron asked.

  “I think so.” My magic tugged strongly, directing me that way.

  Three different monks appeared from a hall to our right. A flash of brown alerted me to their presence, and I turned in time to see them shout and raise their hands.

  “Go!” I sprinted up the stairs, calling upon my wings as I went. The staircase was wide enough that I could fly, and damned if I wouldn't take advantage of the power. Outrunning monks and their magic was freaking hard.

  Tarron joined me, while Aeri and Declan stayed on their feet. They were both massively fast, outrunning the monks by just enough that the stairs exploded behind them.

  I flapped my wings, flying as fast as I could to the huge wooden door at the top. It was closed, shut tight against us.

  Tarron put on a burst of speed and flew into it, blasting it open. The four of us tumbled inside the room, and Declan whirled around, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

  An old man in ornate crimson and gold robes surged to his feet by the fire, his watery eyes going wide. “What are you doing?”

  I could barely make out his words. It was definitely some old form of English.

  “We need help.” I landed and folded my wings back into my body. The monks here had magic, so the abbot didn’t look shocked by my Fae traits.

  He scowled. “Then ask, do not destroy.”

  Tarron glanced back at the door, where the latch was broken. Declan stood with his back against it, keeping it shut.

  “I apologize,” Tarron said.

  The abbot harrumphed. He looked small in the dark room. There were no windows, which was weird as hell, and it was lit only by the fire. The rug was of nice quality, and the tapestries on the wall gave it a warm feeling. But it was otherwise completely empty. For prayer, perhaps?

  “We are looking for the location of the Dragon Bloods,” I said. “I saw in a vision of the future that I would find that information here.”

  His brows lowered. “I don’t have that information.”

  “Yes, you do,” Tarron said. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  The abbot flushed red. “I am not a liar. A man of god would never lie.”

  I didn’t bother telling him that was a load of bullshit.

  His gaze flicked toward me, and it looked almost like recognition flickered within his eyes.

  I frowned at him.

  Aeri strode toward him, drawing a dagger from the ether. The abbot shrank back.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” She sliced her own palm and held it out to him, showing him the white blood. “Look. I am one of them. We do not seek to hurt them.”

  His gaze flicked to us, lingering on me a bit longer. “What about them? Are they Dragon Bloods as well?”

  Shit. I couldn’t prove it with my black blood. And Tarron and Declan definitely weren’t.

  “We mean them no harm,” I said. “Our realms are in desperate danger if I cannot find the Dragon Bloods.”

  “I know nothing of what you speak.” The determination in his voice worried me.

  This guy was not going to give the info up easily. But he kept looking at me funny.

  “Do you know me?”

  “What?” He flapped his hands, a strange gesture. “Of course not!”

  Hmmmm.

  Pounding sounded on the door.

  “That will be my monks,” the abbot said. “Leave here and we will not harm you.”

  “We can’t go without the information we seek,” Tarron said.

  “Well, I am not giving it!”

  He meant it.

  I strode toward him, slicing my fingertip with my sharp thumbnail. As pain spiked and blood welled, I hoped this power could work on a ghost.

  He flinched back from me.

  I moved quickly, swiping my bloody fingertip against his forehead. Magic flared, and I looked into his eyes, giving my voice a hit of power that I hoped would influence him. “You will answer our questions.”

  His eyes went hooded and his shoulders relaxed. “I will answer your question.”

  Victory surged through me. “Thank you. Now, where do we find the Dragon Bloods?”

  “On the Slate Isles.” He spoke with the slowness of the magically influenced.

  “Where are those?” I asked.

  “West coast of Scotland.

  Tarron frowned. “There are hundreds of islands out there. Which ones?”

  “I do not know.”

  “Crap.” I looked at my friends. “He means it.”

  “None of us know,” the abbot said. “This place is ancient. Abandoned so long that none of us know the current location of the Dragon Bloods.”

  “So they move?” I asked.

  “To avoid detection, yes. We were the original holders of that information, but no longer.”

  “But someone knows.” I leaned a bit closer to him. “Who? Is that the information you protect? The secret-bearer’s location?”

  Something strange flickered in his eyes. They focused on me, so intense I wanted to step backward. I resisted. “You will find that information in the nearest city. York. A place with enough magic that it can support the ghost of a Dragon Blood.”

  “A real Dragon Blood?” I asked. “One of the originals?”

  “Not an original, no. They are immortal. But you will find the answers you seek in this man.”

  “Where is he in the city?”

  “Within the city walls.”

  That didn’t answer much, as the entire city of York was contained within the medieval walls.

  The pounding on the doors grew stronger. More frantic.

  “There are more of them,” Declan grunted. “Can’t hold it much longer.”

  Shit.

  We needed to get out of here.

  Hopefully, I called upon my transportation magic, but found myself blocked by a protection charm.

  “My transport power doesn’t work. We have to run.” I whirled around, but there was no escape within. Not a single window.
r />   I glanced back at the abbot, whose eyes had cleared. Crap, he was no longer under my spell.

  “Time’s up,” I said. “We have as much as we’re going to get.”

  Tarron moved to stand about ten feet in front of Declan, who still held the door in place.

  “Move to the side on my count,” Tarron said.

  Declan nodded.

  “Three, two, one.” Tarron nodded.

  Declan lunged to the left. The door flew open, and a half dozen monks piled in, with more following. Tarron raised his hand, and a gust of air billowed forth from his palms. It bowled into the monks, who tumbled over, creating a path for us.

  “Go!” Tarron shouted.

  Aeri, Declan, and I raced through the empty space and down the stairs, jumping over fallen monks as we fled.

  “Defend your home!” The old abbot’s words rang out after us.

  Was he really asking these old monks to fight?

  Ahead of us, stones shot out from the wall. The rocks hurtled toward us, and I ducked low, avoiding a blow to the head.

  “Holy crap, he’s gotten the abbey to fight us!” Aeri said.

  The building itself was mounting an offense.

  Beneath my feet, the stone stairs began to shake, then fall away. I nearly tripped and went down, saving myself at the last minute with a powerful jump. I called upon my wings, feeling them flare to life behind me. As the stairs disappeared, I launched myself into the air. Tarron joined me. Declan called upon his own wings, sweeping Aeri up into his arms. She could fly, but it was an incredibly difficult magic, and when she transformed, she was freaking enormous. So big she’d have destroyed the abbey itself.

  The four of us flew down the stairs and through the massive hall. The huge main room where we’d entered was now full of beautiful stained glass. It exploded inward at us, sending shards of colorful glass hurtling through the air.

  The projectiles sliced across my skin, leaving burning wounds. I called upon two shields, holding them at each side to avoid the cuts. Still, the glass hit my wings, and I was faltering as I neared the exit.

  “Keep going!” Tarron shouted.

  I pushed myself harder, desperate to reach the outside. As soon as we got away from the abbey, my magic could transport us. I just had to make it fifty more yards.

  The whole building began to shake around us.

  “Watch out!” Aeri shouted.

  A massive pillar fell toward Tarron. He dived, his powerful wings carrying him out of the way. The pillar slammed into the ground, shattering the mosaic tile floor. Sections of the roof began to fall, a huge one nearly crushing me. It clipped my wing, sending me into a spin.

  “Mari!” Tarron grabbed my arm, stopping my free fall, and my wings caught the air once more.

  “This place will crush us!” I flew as fast as I could. Almost there. Almost.

  My heart thundered and my muscles ached. Dust and debris filled the air as the building collapsed around us. Another pillar crashed to the ground, falling right through the two huge wooden doors, leaving an open space for us.

  We hurtled through, flying out of the massive abbey just as the entire thing crashed to the ground behind us.

  I skidded to a stop on the grass, pain and exhaustion making me roll haphazardly. I scrambled upright, turning around to see the ghostly piles of rubble. Some of the walls still stood, soaring toward the sky, a beautiful ruin.

  Shocked, I stood. “They destroyed the place to get to us.”

  Tarron joined me, limping slightly due to a huge cut on his thigh.

  Declan set Aeri on the ground. Both looked like hell.

  “It’s not destroyed,” Declan said.

  I blinked.

  He was right. The part of the building that was still standing was the part that had been standing when we’d first arrived. As I watched, the ghostly rubble began to disappear, leaving only the verdant green grass that glowed emerald under the light of the early morning sun.

  “The ruins have put themselves back to rights,” Tarron said.

  There were no monks charging out to attack us. No more ghosts.

  And we’d gotten what we’d come for.

  I eyed the horrible wound on Tarron’s leg, and approached. Without saying anything, I touched his shoulder and fed my new healing energy into him.

  “You’ve always healed me before,” I said. “Time to return the favor.”

  “Thank you.” He frowned. “You’re hurt, too.”

  I shrugged. My own wounds hurt like hell.

  He pressed his hands gently to my shoulders and fed his healing energy into me. It surged through my veins, warm and comforting.

  My gaze collided with his, and it was like the rest of the world disappeared around us. Birdsong faded and the world narrowed until I could only see him. His beautiful green eyes.

  They’d once been gold and black—and they might be again—but for now, he was here. With me. I’d take what I could get, and enjoy it.

  As his warmth flowed through me, the pain faded. My skin knit itself back together, and finally, I was whole.

  The wound on his leg finally closed, and I withdrew my hand. I turned around and spotted Declan healing Aeri. Her white fight suit was covered in red blood from her wounds. It was a gruesome sight, the product of a spell that turned her white blood red when it touched the fabric of the suit. We didn't tell anyone what we were, and the spell definitely helped.

  When they were done, they turned to me.

  “I can transport us.” I nodded to Declan and Aeri. “You two first.”

  They approached, reaching for my hand. We gripped each other, and I closed my eyes, envisioning a distinct place within the city walls of York—Clifford’s Tower.

  The motte and bailey castle was impossible to miss—a simple tower extending up from a hill—one where terrible things had once happened.

  It seemed perfect for the present state of affairs.

  The three of us appeared within the tower. It was a nearly-round space, only about a hundred feet in diameter, with soaring white stone walls and an open ceiling. It had once been the scene of a terrible genocide, when the Christians had attacked the Jews in York, besieging them in the tower until they’d collectively committed suicide to avoid a terrible fate outside of the castle walls.

  Aeri glanced at it. “Interesting choice.”

  “I thought it would be empty at this hour.” And I was right. There wasn’t a soul around. No one to see us appear out of thin air. “I’ll be right back.”

  I returned to the abbey and found Tarron staring at the ruins, shadows in his eyes. He turned to me as I approached. “I can feel her influence more strongly.”

  I shivered, cold rolling over me.

  I could feel it too. Like I was looking into the false queen’s eyes.

  “Fight it.”

  “I am. I will.” His jaw tightened. “But I can feel that there may come a time when I am not strong enough, despite my best efforts.”

  “There won’t.”

  “There will. And if you are there and I attack, you must strike to kill. You must.”

  A shiver raced over me as I remembered the terrible dream I’d had. He was right. When he was like that, he couldn’t be reasoned with.

  “We’ll face that problem when it comes.” I gripped his hand. “For now, you’re here. And we’re going to fix this.”

  His lips tightened, but he just nodded. There was no point in arguing with me about this. No point at all.

  6

  I transported Tarron and myself to Clifford’s tower. The city was just waking up, but here, inside the tower, it was quiet.

  A dark energy filled the air, and I shuddered. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “It’s haunted,” Aeri said. “No question.”

  I shivered. After our last encounter with ghosts, I wasn’t keen to see more. Especially not here at the tower, where such horrible things had happened so long ago.

  We hurried to the iron g
ates. Quickly, Aeri picked the lock, and we slipped out of the tower. Clifford’s Tower was a motte and bailey castle, which meant it was essentially just a simple tower built on top of a man-made mound of earth.

  In front of us, a long row of stairs extended down the hill to the ground. We hurried down, bypassing some geese who seemed determined to cause trouble. We were on the outskirts of the oldest part of town, and it felt dead.

  “I don’t think that what we seek is here,” Tarron said.

  I nodded. “Let’s head farther into the city.”

  We walked toward the ancient buildings of York. It didn’t take long to reach the twisting, cobblestone walkways of the main part of the city. The buildings were ancient, medieval things that leaned drunkenly into each other. They were pressed so close to one another that the streets were narrow and winding. Ancient cobblestones lined the ground.

  Once I stood amongst the historical jumble, there was more for my Seeker sense to pick up on.

  Except it didn't really work.

  There was too much here.

  “Any luck?” Aeri asked.

  “No. I can feel a general tug in that direction”—I pointed down the street—“but there’s so many buildings crammed together that I can’t tell which one the ghost is in.”

  “Lot of ghosts here,” Declan said.

  “What about this place?” Tarron pointed to a hanging sign above us. “We might be able to narrow it down in there.”

  I looked up, catching sight of the cursive words Medieval Museum of York. “A museum?”

  “They should have old maps that could give us clues about which buildings to check,” he said.

  “Oh, not a bad plan.”

  “And a nice change from running from ghosts,” Aeri said.

  We entered the quiet little museum and paid the fare, then entered the silent exhibits.

  “Let’s split up,” Aeri whispered. “I’ll call you if we find anything promising.”

  “Sounds good.” I gave a little wave as she and Declan melted into the darkness, disappearing into the dioramas exhibit.

  Tarron and I went the other way, walking down aisles of glass cabinets filled with artifacts, each painstakingly marked with little paper cards. They didn’t seem promising, so I headed toward another exhibit. We needed maps.