by Mary Dublin
Cliff gasped in relief. He stirred minimally, head lolling to the side, eyes fluttering. He saw the tiny blur rocket down from the treetops, but the rasping warning never made it past his lips. In the next moment, Jon doubled over, experiencing firsthand the agony that had tormented Cliff.
"Where is Sylvia?" Aiden asked in a slow, deliberate voice. "I know you know of her. Tell me where you put her, and I'll make it stop."
Jon snapped his head up, fierce anger piercing his pained brown eyes. Threatening.
"Bite me," he hissed out.
Aiden's darkened eyes narrowed. With sweat glistening on his brow, he thrust his arms further in Jon's direction. Jon choked on his next words, his body crumpling to the ground like a massive weight was bearing down upon him.
Unnoticed by anyone other than Damian, Cliff stirred once more. This time, there was focus in his eyes, movement in his arms. He turned his head, looking from the attacking fairy to Jon's shaking hand digging into the dirt.
In one quick moment, Aiden's overconfidence was seized—literally. He gasped at the sudden strain in his shoulder blades as his wings were clutched flat to his back in a hand bigger than his entire body. Jon turned his head when the pain wavered: Cliff had managed to prop himself up, one hand coiled tight around Aiden.
The fairy didn't miss a beat, leaping at the instinct to attempt extending the mind spell to both humans. But it became clear within seconds that it was too much. When he released his hold on the magic, it was with a great slump of defeat. Judging by his labored breaths, Jon doubted he could focus the spell on even one of them anymore.
Panting, the guard fell limp, exhausted but conscious. "More are coming," he said weakly, barely able to raise his head.
"No one's coming," Damian said, confident as he drew close to Cliff's hand. "Your messenger is currently lying unconscious in a bush."
Aiden scowled at the other fairy venomously, fear flickering through the anger. He turned his glare to the human holding him. "Prove me right, then," he dared. "Kill me."
Cliff considered him, his expression unreadable. "No. I don't owe you any favors, asshole."
A groan came from the left as Jon sucked in blissful air and pushed himself off the ground. Damp earth clung under his nails and in the creases of his palms. He spat out blood, having bit his own cheek at some point.
"You alright?" Cliff asked. He sounded hoarse. Jon could only imagine the havoc wreaked on him, having been exposed far longer than a few moments.
"Worse than the oath," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "You?"
Cliff pulled himself upright as well. Neither trusted themselves to stand.
"I'll live. Did you find her?"
Jon didn't answer, distracted as Damian jolted higher into the air with an alarmed gasp. Jon twisted around. Movement was closing in swiftly from the direction he had arrived. He perked up, worrying for a moment it was more guards. He wasn't sure he could survive another encounter with Aiden's type of magic—let alone a barrage of fireballs. Just as he was about to warn the others, he recognized the figures and relaxed.
Sylvia made a beeline for them the moment she broke free of the willow fronds. There was a little waver in her flight that didn't go unnoticed. She was favoring the wing without a scar running through it… but whatever soreness remained didn't stop her. Rebecca was following close behind, appearing beyond disgruntled. She looked to Jon and immediately explained herself.
"I know. I know you told me to take her away. I wanted to, but she threatened to—how did you put it, Sylvia?—freeze my beating heart in my chest if I tried to stop her from coming."
Without looking the slightest bit sheepish for her insistence on coming, Sylvia moved closer and looked between the two humans, but there didn't seem to be anything physically wrong other than a burn mark on Cliff's collar. Her eyes darted to his hand, tilting her head to get a look at what little wasn't engulfed in Cliff's fist.
"He was sent to kill you," Jon informed her.
"Who?" she asked simply, meeting neither of their gazes as she abruptly flew closer to Cliff.
Cliff looked to Damian for a confirming nod. "Aiden, right?
At the sound of Aiden's name, her entire demeanor changed. Her eyes widened as her stony expression vanished. "Oh no, did he—"
Jon held his breath as Sylvia flew to him and extended a shaking hand toward his face. Inches away, she stopped short and snapped her hand back against her, still looking at both hunters with intent concern. "He tortured you," she realized, voice cracking.
A sigh came from behind her. "One minute you're avoiding them, the next you're all over them." Rebecca observed Sylvia wearily, shaking her head. "Make up your mind, will you?" She left her side to check on Damian.
Sylvia rolled her eyes in the other girl's direction before focusing back on the humans.
"If the order came from the Council… there's no reversing it. They won't listen at this point," she said softly, the grim realization dawning on her face. She could never go home. "As long as I'm still alive, the guards are going to try to hunt me down. Whether they want to or not." Her eyes shifted down to Cliff's hand, a pensive look crossing her face. "Let me talk to him."
Jon just stared back at Sylvia. It took a moment for it to sink in that this concern was real. No bond was influencing her actions anymore. His heart did a tiny somersault of hope, but he didn't ponder it further than that. They had other things to worry about.
Cliff reluctantly shifted Aiden a little higher in his fist so his head and shoulders stuck out well above the rest. His arms, however, stayed firmly plastered to his sides.
"Good to see you, traitor," Aiden muttered, still short of breath as his wings twitched uncomfortably.
Her expression was set. "I'm dead. You killed me." She edged forward when he gave her a perplexed frown. "That's what you'll tell the Council when you summon them. They have no reason not to believe you." She held her hand out to him expectantly. "But if you want a solid guarantee of leaving here unhurt, we make an oath."
He glared daggers at her, but even he had to know full well he was in no position to argue. Not when it was five-on-one. But at least now he could be certain the village would be safe.
"Two-way. Or no deal." He craned his neck back. "I need my arms, jumbo."
Cliff made a noise of distaste, but allowed Aiden enough freedom to wriggle one arm out and set his hand face up on Sylvia's. Within a minute, they both had a glowing rune on their palms. A look of pure loathing twisted Aiden's features as Sylvia spoke.
"You will tell the Council you killed me. You will never tell anyone what truly happened here. You will never mention you saw Rebecca or Damian tonight. And you will not attack us or my family. Any of us, ever."
He stared at his hand. "I swear." The rune burst with light, then faded. He raised his venomous gaze to meet hers. "You will never step foot in the village again. And if you or your humans ever bring intentions of harm here, my oath will be lifted, and you will allow me to do everything in my power to kill you."
Sylvia's breath hitched sharply. "I swear," she answered. When her rune faded, she edged away from the guard and looked up at Cliff with a nod. "Let him go."
Even after witnessing the oaths sworn firsthand, Cliff still made Aiden suffer a moment more in confinement before dropping him unceremoniously on the ground. The fairy looked all around him, his humiliation battling with fury. A fury he could no longer use against them.
"Get out of here," Jon ordered, fixing a hardened gaze upon the guard.
Aiden let his gaze linger on him last, taking to the air with haste. "I hope you burn for what you've done here tonight." These words were aimed at the other fairies as he flew past them. A tense silence settled over the group that lasted long after Aiden had gone.
Jon stared intently at Sylvia, his thoughts aimed like arrows at her back. What have you done? She had no home. Outcasted by the only place she had ever known. Where would she go? These questions burned inside him, fighti
ng for release.
But Cliff was the one to approach her first. He reached over to nudge her arm with the back of a curled finger.
"What's the plan?" he asked gently.
She looked up. Despite the wry smile that took hold of her features, her eyes screamed with panic. "I have no idea," she said plainly.
"First things first." Rebecca fluttered down close to Sylvia and squeezed her shoulder. "Melanie is probably on the verge of a heart attack right now. We should let her know her precious baby is safe."
Despite herself, Sylvia laughed. "I'm sure 'safe' is exactly how she'll see it."
"Your bright side is as blinding as ever."
"You're making fun of me for being sensible?"
"Right, because healing a human is so sensible."
"O-kay, we should get going, then." Damian joined them and stood between them, standing in the way of what was clearly about to evolve into a less than friendly argument. He glanced up at the humans, seeming to remember something. "Er, I guess we're all heading the same way, aren't we? Your metal thing…"
"Yeah." Cliff dusted himself off with a snort and stood. "Gotta go back to our metal thing.”
***
Melanie was there to greet them at the car. She rocketed past the hunters in a blur, nearly tackling Sylvia out of the air. Jon could only stare as her stern demeanor vanished into a series of shuddering sobs. Sylvia's wings seized, sending them gliding downward in a spiral until she could accommodate her mother's vice grip.
"Oh stars, Sylvia, I was so sure…" Melanie weeped, stroking through Sylvia's matted hair.
Rebecca and Damian flew in closer, hovering several inches away to look on with their own concern. As the fairies clustered together, their backs to the hunters, Jon felt more and more like some giant standing in on a private moment. He exchanged a look with Cliff, wondering if was sharing the same feeling. They'd managed to get Sylvia back to people who would protect her. After the fallout from breaking the bond, Jon knew that whatever had sparked between them during her stay with them was lost now. He tried to convince himself it was for the best as he moved to leave quietly alongside Cliff.
"Jon!"
It was Sylvia who called to him as he made to climb inside the passenger's side. When he turned, her expression faltered. She had flown closer to speak to him—but not too close. Fresh tears made her little eyes glossy, but she kept them at bay.
"I just… don't want you to leave thinking I hate you. Because I don't," she said quickly, eyes pointed at the scratches on his face. "I don't like what you did. How can I? But I understand why you did it. And I want you to know… you didn't do anything wrong. You gave me my mind back." She drew in a sharp breath and looked away. "Thank you."
Jon wet his lips, watching her intently. He wasn't sure exactly what he was hoping to find in her face, but she never turned back to look his way again. Seconds dragged past, and a bitter feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.
"Take care of yourself," he said, ducking his head.
Jon slipped into the car and door shut with a loud clunk, sealing them into different worlds. The fairies collectively shielded their eyes as the headlights flipped on. Making sure the fairies were a safe distance away, they backed out of the marshy woods and took a sharp right to merge back onto the road. The headlights retreated into the distance in a matter of minutes.
Jon glanced over with a frown when Cliff burst out in a deep chuckle for no apparent reason.
"What?" he asked, rather snappishly.
"Just…. fairies, man." Cliff massaged his singed collar, shaking his head. "And friggin' magic… whole thing feels like some crazy dream. Am I right?"
He glanced over to Jon, who was staring straight ahead with a blank expression. "More like a nightmare."
Thirty
One
One month later.
Pain throbbed through her scarred wing. She had been flying too fast for too long, but stopping wasn't an option, not with the images of the alley seared into her mind. She needed to reach them. They were the only ones she could go to. The only ones who could help. Her head pounded in time with her heart, adrenaline coursing madly through her veins.
She considered it a miracle she wasn't being followed.
The streetlights below became more spaced than the inner-city, easier to avoid and stay in the dark. If anyone caught a glimpse of her, she doubted they would suspect they were looking at a fairy, but she couldn't risk it. Lucky for her, avoiding electrical lights was a precaution that came naturally nowadays.
Just as her flight was beginning to grow crooked from light-headedness, the apartment building she was searching for came into view. Since being left behind in the forest, she had only passed by the building once. It had been by chance while exploring the city, and she made it a point to never go there again. She recognized their car in the parking lot, but the relief that they were home didn't distract her from the urgency of the situation.
Once she was sure she located the right window, she hovered in front of it, trying not to think about how she had turned rain into snow at that very spot. The blinds were drawn, creating shafts of yellow light from within the room. Her panicked face reflected in the glass, tears streaming over the blackened symbol on her cheek.
She raised her hand to rap on the window, but hesitated. What's the point in telling them? There's no saving that guy. He's torn apart. Gone. Dead.
No. Even if that victim was beyond saving, the hunters needed to know as soon as possible to prevent more victims.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wrestling the blood and screams out of the forefront of her mind. But what she couldn't forget was the monster looking up after his victim bled out. He had looked up to where she was, maybe realizing that someone was watching, but at least he hadn't followed when she bolted off into the night.
Exhaustion caught up. She feared she would fall right out of the air. She bit her lip to keep a sob from escaping and pounded on the window with as much force as she could muster. She knocked until she couldn't feel her hand, and then switched to the other and didn't stop until an approaching shadow blocked out the light.
Sylvia's breath caught in her throat. The shadow was massive, accompanied by the sound of Cliff's deep voice grumbling something about friggin' pigeons. She had forgotten just how big the hunters were. There was no time to swallow her intimidation before the blinds were yanked up, giving her the full view of Cliff blocking the room from the other side of the window.
The fairly irritated scowl on his face made her inch backward in the air, holding her throbbing hands close. His annoyed expression snapped into bewilderment when his green eyes found her.
"Holy shit!"
Cliff lunged forward and undid the latches, struggling for a moment before he forced the window open with a sharp smack. He stepped back to give her room, never taking his wide eyes off of her. With her wings burning, she couldn't afford to hesitate.
Before she could even land on the window sill, Jon came rushing into the room wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Clearly Cliff's exclamation had carried to the bathroom. Sylvia halted at a hover and looked down as Jon approached Cliff.
"Cliff, what—" Jon fell silent. The weight of his gaze finally forced her to land. Her heart raced as he stumbled another step closer to the window, disbelief making his voice thick. "Sylvia. What… what are you doing here?"
"Werewolf attack," she shuddered, blinking hard and not daring to regard either hunter. The phrase alone sent the images of the night spiraling through her mind. Her chest heaved, and her throat closed up, nearly making her words incoherent. "I-it was in an alleyway in the inner-city. You w-won't find it tonight. It's too c-close to dawn. Someone should find him—the victim." What's left of him. "B-but it's too late for him, h-he's…"
She clamped a hand over her mouth, knees buckling as she leaned against the wall for support. Her head was pounding, begging for sleep. She teetered and sank down, cradling her forehead.
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Forcing herself to look up, she gazed between the hunters imploringly. The sight of them brought a fresh ache to her heart, but she was fading fast. "P-please, you have to…" Her voice tapered off, and her eyes fluttered shut.
***
She came back to consciousness slowly at first. Her fingers ran along fabric beneath her, and she let out a soft huff. Sunlight was hitting her eyes, intruding upon her sleep. She rolled onto her other side and buried her face in her arm with a groan.
There was a soft noise of surprise. Sylvia went rigid. She recognized the voice, but there was no possible way it could…
The memories of last night came rushing forth, sending a bolt of terror through her.
She sat up with a gasp and was rewarded with a sharp headache for her swift movement. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead and had to squeeze her eyes shut before she turned to get a good look at her surroundings. But finally, she remembered where she was. As easily as flipping a switch, she calmed down and gave the hunters' bedroom a glance.
So little had changed in her absence. The papers pinned to the walls had been organized into different lines now, a few new newspaper clippings dotting the mess. But the quilts on the beds were the same faded blue. The smell of old coffee and soap hung in the air, reminiscent of a breakfast she'd just missed.
Her exploring gaze didn't make it past the other bed. Jon was seated there, setting his laptop aside and getting to his feet haltingly. She recalled the looks of shock the hunters had given her when she flew into the room, babbling about werewolves and alleyways. He stared as if he expected her to slip into another frantic rant.
"Hey. How are you feeling?" Jon spoke up as he took a knee in front of her.