by Mary Dublin
Brennan peered around the corner. A dozen fairies were milling about restlessly by the hearth. The center flame illuminated them all in brilliant cerulean as it orbited its bowl at a slow, ancient pace. Some of them were scrawny, recruited from other trades. But many- too many, he thought- bore muscled arms and hands shimmering with strong spells. Warriors, born and bred. They were all traitors, and it took all of Brennan's self restraint not to stride in and let them all taste his fury.
He stiffened as Alyssa rose without warning and stepped into the light.
"Don't move a muscle," she hissed as she passed.
He obeyed, but kept a stun spell ready at his fingertips. It seemed to be unnecessary, as the fairies rounded on Alyssa with curiosity and relief rather than animosity.
"Your Ladyship!"
"Where did you run off to during the fight?"
"She's a lady, not a soldier, you idiot."
Alyssa fixed them with a hard look until she received the silence she sought.
"Someone fetch the king," she called in a grand voice. "Queen Esmae has been delivered."
Brennan ducked far behind the doorway as movement erupted in the meeting room, traitors scrambling to alert their traitor king. Questions were directed at Alyssa, but she refused to answer until Aeron arrived.
Before long, a hush fell back over the gathering, but Brennan experienced a far more chilling indication that the usurper had arrived. Fear drenched him like a splash of cold water—fear that was not his own. Clenching his jaw, Brennan peered past the doorway, and his own rage threatened to overtake the terror.
Aeron strode purposefully inside the room, one hand locked firmly on Avie's forearm. She whimpered and dragged her feet, prying at his hand to no avail. Brennan couldn't have lunged out to save her even if he wanted to, frozen in shock. Trembling next to Aeron, she was smaller than he could have ever imagined.
"Your Majesty," Alyssa said with a low bow. "Queen Esmae is waiting on the other side of the barrier. She isn't struggling, for now. I've received word that she is babbling about taking her daughter's place."
The smirk that took hold of Aeron's face was nothing short of heinous. "A trade? Surely she's gone mad."
Aveline, who had stopped struggling the moment she heard Esmae's name, blinked tearfully. "Mummy," she choked.
"Yes, my dear," Aeron said, smiling at her. "You'll be seeing her very soon."
"I suggest you leave the child, sire." Alyssa said it casually, as if her and Brennan's entire plan didn't rest upon whether she could convince him. She didn't flinch as Aeron turned to face her, his fingers tightening on Avie's arm.
"And why is that?" he asked, eyes flinty with suspicion.
Lady Alyssa folded her arms, unbothered. "There is nowhere more secure in Evrosea than the palace. Even better, it will give you leverage. If the queen wishes to so much as lay eyes on her precious daughter again, she must cooperate to the fullest extent. Give her a reason to not put up a fight. The more compliant she is with the transformation, the swifter you'll have the rest of the kingdom bowing to your power."
Brennan held his breath in the silence, fearing someone would notice the rapid thud of his heart.
The quiet was shattered when Aeron laughed. "I daresay you would know more than me about how mothers think. Though I suppose you can't claim to be cut from the same cloth as her." He eyed her with a cruel glint, and Brennan saw the way her wings stiffened.
But she took the insult in stride.
"I was once, believe me." She nodded at Avie. "This one is still young. Queen Esmae does not yet know the pain of being betrayed by her own child. Leave the girl. Her mother will sell her soul and more to see her again."
Relief dared to take hold of Brennan when he saw Aeron give a slow nod of agreement. "Yes... though it wouldn't hurt to show her the blessings her daughter's abilities have bestowed upon me."
He turned to Avie with no further warning, pressing a hand on her forehead. The little princess cried out and twisted away, whimpering. "No, no! N-no more! Please..." Her protests became quieter, slower, until she was projected exhaustion along with her fear.
Finally, she slumped against Aeron's leg, panting with soft little breaths. The hand that had drained her returned to stroke through her tousled hair.
"I want to go home," she whined in a tiny voice. "I w-want…"
Aeron's patient voice was beginning to wear thin at the edges. "It's time to rest, Aveline."
He didn't raise a word in order, but a pair of fairies stepped forward to scoop Avie off her feet and carry her away. The child was so weak, she could put up no resistance. Brennan craned his neck, eyes fixed on the jeweled door that she disappeared behind.
He shut his eyes and found silence. In that quiet, he willed Aveline to feel his presence and to know that she was not alone in this nightmare.
"You lot, with me," Aeron boomed, gesturing at a hearty group of seven. "I'm not taking any chances."
Each fairy spread their wings carefully through their cloaks and took to the air. It was only a few more agonizing moments of patience for Brennan before the usurper and his soldiers were gone, vanished through one of the many corridors that led out to the open air.
There were two guards left behind, tense as they stood by the fire. From across the room, Alyssa's eyes turned in Brennan's direction. He couldn't get a read on her face, but he understood her meaning when she abruptly began engaging the two remaining warriors in avid conversation.
Brennan leapt into action. He slunk along the far most wall, moving in a long half circle towards the dormitories. If he moved calmly, no one should suspect a thing. He came to the jeweled door and let out a shaky sigh of relief. There was cover here, but he didn't dare linger.
He shivered as he clasped the handle, finding it overwhelmingly familiar under his hands.
Esmae's childhood room.
It was unlocked. He pushed the heavy door open and slipped inside.
The memories he tried to stifle came at him from every side as he crept forward. Though it had been many years since the bedchamber had been used by its primary owner, little trinkets of the once-princess of Evrosea littered every chest of drawers and vanity. Little tiaras adorned with violets that never aged, spellbooks and history times that had messy leaf-stem quills still laid next to them. King Maison hadn't let a thing be moved out of place, even after all these years.
Of course, it would have been easier to reminisce, had two traitors not been occupying the room with him.
Remarkably, he hadn't been noticed, standing in the shadow of the oaken wardrobe. The guards were knelt by Aveline in a lavish chair that was much too big for her, apparently indulging a momentary fascination. Glowering, Brennan summoned magic to his palms and fingertips, focused every fiber of his being to make the spells count.
A soft gasp cut through the air. The next thing he knew, Avie was sat bolt upright, eyes round and locked on him. The fairies spun too. Spells sprang to their hands and curses to their lips. He had only seconds to dive for cover, and be the one to make the first shot.
Avie's cry of fear was punctuated by the terror she inadvertently laced the room with.
Brennan scrambled to put his back against the side of the wardrobe, throwing one hand out. A fizzing bolt of magic hit one guard squarely in the chest and knocked him to his back, gasping and writhing. Brennan pulled his hand back into cover just as the other guard's spell sliced through the air and nearly scorched him.
Baring his teeth, he tore out of hiding as the guard made to rush at him. Ready this time, Brennan ducked under the next sparking bolt, sending out the stun spell that had been building in his other hand. The guard hit the ground and did not even have the capacity to writhe.
Without warning, a fiery pain blossomed on Brennan's arm. A choked bellow tore past his throat as he whirled around to find the first guard staggering to reach Aveline. He didn't make it more than a few steps before he was as motionless as his partner.
Breathing har
d, Brennan dropped his hands. His upper arm burned fiercely, a wisp of smoke curling off the singed fabric of his sleeve, but the wound wasn't deep enough to be worth a delay.
"Princess?" he called softly.
The armchair was empty, but movement stirred from behind it as Aveline peeked out. Her brilliant blue eyes were wide and tearful, and the energy she threw into the space around them was tense, uncertainty creeping up alongside the sensation as she glanced between the two fallen guards. She inched back as Brennan approached with slow steps.
He pulled his hood down, offering a weak smile. "Don't tell me you don't recognize me?"
Her mouth fell open. In an instant, the air was filled with so much glee and relief that Brennan had to stifle a laugh. Avie, however, was crying.
"Uncle Brennan! It is you!" She charged at him from behind the chair, tripping over the hem of her nightgown in her desperation to reach him. He closed the space faster than she could fall, dropping to his knees as he swept her into his arms. She sank into him and wept.
"Shh, you're alright, Avie," he whispered. "Don't cry. You're safe now."
She hiccupped into his shoulder. "They w-won't let me go home. I want to go home."
"You're in luck, Princess. That's exactly where we're going." He pulled her away gently to look at her, faltering at how strange it was to hold her easily in his arms, when mere hours ago he could have stood in the palm of her hand.
She seemed to be struck by the peculiarity of it too, timidly touching her hands to either side of his face, unable to fathom how he could be real. "You're big, Uncle Brennan," she said quietly, with all the reverence of sharing a fragile secret.
He choked out a heartbroken bit of laughter, knowing nothing could be further from the truth. "Hopefully, not for much longer. You're supposed to be carrying me around."
Aveline managed a smile at this. He supposed it was a promising sign that she could smile at all, after being shrunk and kidnapped by a madman. Brennan reached for her face too, cradling it in his hands. He brushed tousled hair out of her eyes, looking her up and down.
"Has he hurt you?" There was no blood, but she was pale—so terribly pale.
The corners of her mouth soured into a grimace. "The man with gold hair… t-the taller one. He makes me tired."
Brennan's lips became a thin line. The memory of Aeron's hand pressed to her head was too much to bear.
He tore his eyes away, out the window. Snowflakes should have been spiraling from the inky sky, but there was no sight of it. The air was still where there should have been a strong breeze rattling the panes. His heart sank, knowing Tessa had not yet managed to break apart the dark glamour. He would have to rely on his mother to be as punctual as she always was to make it out of Evrosea intact.
"We don't have much time. Come."
He spread his arms to her. Gathering Aveline up carefully, Brennan stepped over the unconscious fairies and made for the window. Her anticipation spread to him like a scent on the air. His heart hammered along with hers with every step. But among all the ugly fears, something warm found its way to him.
Hope.
The window latch came free with a well-placed kick to its bolt. The panes swung inward with a rush of air, and he leapt onto the ledge. "Hold onto me tightly, Princess."
Chapter
Eleven
Esmae stood alone before Aeron Bogdan at the very edge of Evrosea. To her eyes, the fairy lord and his followers looked like small, insidious figures cloaked in their nocturnal glow. Most of them illuminated the darkness with enchanting hues of violet and blue.
Not Aeron.
Her blood had boiled when she'd first seen him approach, wearing that dazzling golden light. That was a king's mark. Her father's mark.
Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides with the old instinct to summon a spell. Whatever magic was left in her were only whispers of a past life; nothing that could provide any use to her.
Esmae tried to relax her stance. She thought the man might be giddy upon her arrival, but instead he was quiet. She worried it might be suspicion.
Aeron's small, commanding voice broke the stalemate: "Where is the giant?"
"I didn't need Sir Logan's persuasion to come to you. I have my own reasons."
Aeron narrowed his eyes. To Esmae's relief, he was more interested in her presence than the lack of Logan's. He sneered at her. "And what might those reasons be, Your Majesty?"
"My daughter, of course," she answered stonily. "Release her, and I will give myself up. Anything you want of me, you'll have it. I will not struggle or fight. She's only a child of five, and she deserves none of this. I've made mistakes that put both Evrosea and Mirrel in danger. I can't defend that. But she's innocent."
She spoke without difficulty, without hesitation. She kept her eyes on Aeron only, focusing through the fog of the glamour. It was solid as ever, protecting him from her, but not the other way around.
Amusement lit up Aeron's doubtful face, and he gave a hearty laugh at her expense. "Why, Esmae. You speak as though you hold any grounds for negotiation. You will be joining us, whether or not you fight. Start running now, if it pleases you. But if you wish to see your bastard daughter again, I suggest you come quietly. That oaf of a knight may have been unreliable in bringing you himself, but soon enough—"
He stopped short when noises came in the distance behind him—shouts of anger and confusion approaching fast. His followers whirled, and a couple darted off to see what the commotion was. Esmae leaned in closer, searching the space behind Aeron and his men. Before long, she caught a shout that sent her heart pounding: "Princess Aveline has escaped!"
Rage twisted in Aeron's expression, and Esmae could no longer hope to hold his attention. Swearing, he pulled away from the glamour barrier and flew off.
"No!" Esmae shouted, pressing her hands to the barrier desperately. "Leave her alone!"
Incandescent colors streaked and bobbed behind the shielding. Esmae could only recognize the traitorous gold of Aeron Bogdan amongst the other colors. Brennan's amber light was nowhere to be seen, but she could hear his voice distantly amidst the others.
Faint green sparks blew along with the snow. Esmae squinted, looking desperately for their source further along the barrier. Tessa was all but invisible behind Daniel's cloak. He crouched above her and Rommen both, shielding them from the worsening snowfall as they worked. He had his eyes downturned, watching them fixedly as if they might fail if he so much as blinked.
The sheer magnitude of magic in the air rose hairs on Esmae's arms. The glamour flickered for a few moments, a streak of brilliant green flashing before her eyes. It wasn't enough. The fight for Aveline was just feet away and all she could do was tear uselessly at the impassable spellwork and cry for her daughter. Hopefully, she could hear her mother's voice and draw comfort from her closeness.
Esmae shuddered with a great sigh of despair, resting her head against the wall. "P-please," she whimpered.
It was as though the stars above heard and granted her plea. There was a spasm in the glamour. A flicker. She flinched away, eyes widening. And then the barrier was gone, and Esmae could see everything beyond with startling clarity.
For a moment, it was as though time had frozen. Fairies, both in the air and stirring weakly on the ground, stopped what they were doing to look towards the outer woods. The cold air swept into the kingdom like a wave, turning labored breaths into tiny puffs of silver. Guards shivered in their light clothing and cursed loudly as they looked about for the breech.
Aeron glared in her direction, afraid at last. She paid him no mind. She had spotted Brennan hovering amongst the branches of a tree rich with leaves, desperately clutching a tiny little bundle to his chest.
"Oh, Avie," she murmured.
Nothing could have prepared Esmae for seeing her daughter no bigger than the length of her pinkie, made even smaller by how she huddled fearfully against Brennan. There was no time to stare while he flew for his life, weaving around gu
ards that were still too stunned to move.
"Stop him! Get the girl!" Aeron screeched.
In the blink of an eye, guards swarmed Brennan like a colony of angry wasps. No spells were fired in his direction for fear of damaging Aeron's power source, but their numbers made up for the lack of offensive spells. He didn't stand a chance.
With the barrier fallen, Esmae bolted into Evrosea. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Rommen heaving a limp Tessa away from danger while Daniel tore past them—a monstrous storm of rage that followed the freezing winds into Evrosea. Aveline's name was the only word on his lips.
But a pair of humans couldn't make it far into the midair battlement before a flurry of spells rained upon them. They were massive, easy targets compared to the Evroseans. Vehement singes clawed across her skin and made her cry out, shielding her eyes as she tried desperately to peek at Brennan and Avie. She spotted Alyssa overhead, picking off guards one by one before they even knew what hit them; it wouldn't be enough. In the distance, more of Aeron's men were charging from the palace.
To her right, Daniel's desperation was doing him little good. His dagger was thrown from his hands by a burst of a fairy's blue fire. He dove for it, though it would do him little good against a force of trained fairies. His winter cloak was peppered scorch marks, tattered where it had moments ago been a glorious thing. Esmae was only grateful that those holes weren't in him.
In an instant, Esmae remembered the faces peering out from the windows during her last visit—the mass of fairies who had assured her and Daniel's escape from Aeron's wrath.
"Evrosea!" Esmae shouted above the chaos." You have not been abandoned! Now is our chance to stand against this traitor—this murderer! I ask not that you fight for me or anyone else, but for your home! For your children, and their children, fight back!"
Her voice was a broken sound as she dug her fingers into the bark of her sheltering tree. "Please… Help us, Evrosea!"