by Amy Sumida
Isn't confidence a double-edged sword? It fortifies while it endangers.
We planned to search the temple for the missing children before we took care of the Trinity. Not that I didn't trust Reyne; I simply wanted to get the children to safety before the blood started to flow. And I was convinced that there was more to the Amber Temple than we'd been shown.
“This is convenient,” Cerberus noted with a look over the balcony. “We'll be able to search easier. Where you wanna start, El?”
“Right here,” I said as I placed my hand against the amber wall. “Talk to me, Amber. Show me where the children are.”
Amber immediately took hold of my mind and sent me surging down into the depths of her temple. Golden walls flew by me as I went deep into the earth. Suddenly, I stopped before what appeared to be a solid wall. The image focused closer; on the tiniest imperfection in the amber. It wasn't more than a smudge, but I moved even closer and heard a click as the smudge was pushed inward. A panel opened, and I swept down a staircase into a vast chamber. Cages were lined against the walls; cages full of crying children.
I came gasping back to myself and then felt my face settle into furious lines.
“I should have fucking done that the first time we were here,” I snarled.
“You found them,” Declan whispered.
“I did,” I said. “Now, let's go get them.”
We crept carefully out of the room and down the empty corridor. A central staircase took us to the main floor. The sound of war preparations became louder, but our luck continued to hold, and we weren't seen. I led our party to another staircase, and we hurried down it as quietly as possible. We made it all the way to the lowest levels of the temple without running into a single fairy. It took me a few minutes, but I found the smudge and pushed it. The door popped out and slid to the side.
“Sneaky bastards,” Cerberus said with admiration.
“Come on,” I urged them all down into the chamber I'd seen.
It was just as Amber had shown me; a cavernous room of amber with a stone floor—a connection to Tír na nÓg and Primeval. In the middle of the room a rock altar lurked; ancient and bloodstained. Nothing lay near it; the entire space around it was empty. But there were tables covered in bottles, candles, and tools set against the walls—in between the cages I'd seen in my vision. The children within the cages cringed back when they saw us; whimpering in fear. I went forward to comfort them, and that's when everything went to hell.
Just as I stepped forward, a steel cage dropped from the ceiling; trapping the men. It hit the back of my boot heel as I moved. If I had hesitated one second longer, I would have been trapped with them. I gaped at the cage, and the men gaped back at me.
“You're fucking kidding, right?” Cerberus chortled. “They think they can cage us? Don't they know who we are?”
Cerberus grabbed the bars, but before he could bend them to his will, he was zapped backward onto his ass. He shook his head like a dog shakes off water, and stared at the steel with wide eyes.
“They've warded it,” Declan snarled. “This may take awhile to break.”
“What the fuck?” Eimhir snapped as she came into the room with the other Strengths. “Why isn't she in the cage?”
Her sweet facade was gone, and the dryad's true colors were flying.
“Run, Elaria!” Torin hissed at me.
“The fuck I will,” I growled as I set my stare on the Trinity.
“We need you out of this room,” Torin spoke quickly. “If they take you here, we're all fucked. Get out now!”
“Grab her, Caorall!” Eimhir shouted. “Do I have to tell you what to do all the fucking time?”
I took one last look at my loved ones before I ran. The Strengths barely had time to react. I elbowed Caorall out of my way, and he went tumbling into the other two. I could hear Eimhir screeching as I ran up the stairs. My mind was racing; screaming at me to turn around and fight. I couldn't leave them behind; it went against every instinct I had. But my reason won out; I needed to get to a place of power before I could make a stand and save them. If something went wrong inside the temple, I'd be trapped. All of us would be trapped, and then we'd be dead.
I just hoped that the men would last long enough for me to free them.
As I ran, I prepared. I knew I'd have to get through an entire army to reach the safety of Primeval. I needed to clear a path and knock aside as many of the soldiers as I could; hopefully in a non-lethal way. I didn't want to slaughter these fairies if they were only following orders. Even I had been fooled by the Trinity; their army could easily be acting under the assumption that they were on the right side of this.
So, I called to Kyanite as I ran, and we decided on the song we'd use to barrel through an army. The gentle tapping of drumsticks filled the air around me, and then the light keys of a piano tinkled into existence. I started the wispy words of “Blown Away” by Carrie Underwood as I climbed the stairs. By the time I had reached the main hall, the lyrics were slipping into the lament of an abused child; her suffering and her vengeance. A storm had come to save her, and I hoped it would come for me as well. I began to run at full speed; stretching my legs as far as they would go. I could hear the pound of Caorall's feet behind me, but I didn't look back. I kept my eyes set on the double doors before me.
The music grew in intensity and volume, and my voice rose with it. I felt Kyanite's magic fill me as I slammed the doors open, and the shocked Trinity Army turned to face me. I shouted the triumphant chorus, and the power of righteous fury and Mother Nature herself burst out of me. The Army of the Trinity of Strengths was blown across the meadow and into the ancient trees; most knocked unconscious on impact.
I ran through the windstorm as I continued to sing; tornadoes touching down around me. Fairies were sucked up into the twisters; carried far away from the prospective battlefield. The Sgàthan rolled and trembled on my right; the tide pulling back into monstrous walls of water before slashing across the grass. The sea surged into itself; taking a few unfortunates with it.
Ahead of me, I saw Reyne and a small group of Lesser Fey gaping at me in awe as I sped down the only avenue of calm in the middle of my storm. I made it into the forest and then into Reyne's arms as the storm closed off behind me like the Red Sea. Reyne quickly carried me further into Primeval, and the Lesser Fey closed ranks around us.
“Queen Elaria,” Reyne said gently, “did you come alone?”
“No,” I whispered as the wind died down; losing power without my song fueling it. “I'm just the only one who made it out of the Amber Temple.”
I straightened and looked back at the debris-riddled, soggy meadow. Only the temple was unscathed, and before it stood the Trinity of Strengths. I set my shoulders and started back toward the meadow. I had needed a place to make a stand, and now I had one. Reyne's fairies closed in behind me, and we strode out into the clearing confidently. I was filled with adrenaline and rage; ready to tear apart the Trinity as I had Kieran and the kyanite knights.
That's when I saw the children.
We all froze as the missing children of Primeval came striding out of the Amber Temple holding daggers in their tiny fists. Their eyes were glazed over, and they walked with the jerky movements of the possessed. Eimhir smiled viciously at me as she held up a hand, and the army of children halted.
“You think that you've won, Spellsinger?” Eimhir laughed. “I have your lovers and your dog. But, more importantly, I have the Lesser Fey children. You will have to go through them to get to us. Can you do that?” She ran her hand over the curls of a little dryad girl. “Can you blow away these darling innocents and just hope that they aren't harmed?”
“No,” Reyne whispered, his eyes misting with tears. “Rilena.”
“No one is hurting your daughter, Reyne,” I vowed. “I swear to you.”
His shaky stare shifted to mine.
“I swear it,” I repeated. “You called me back to help you, now trust me to do that.” I glanced b
ack at the other fairies. There was a much larger group than I'd expected; made up of several types of Lesser Fey. “And all of you prepare yourselves to grab the children and run. Don't look back and don't concern yourselves with me. Get the little ones to their families and then return if you can.”
They blinked at me in surprise as delicate music started to play in the meadow. The Trinity of Strengths frowned in confusion; they hadn't expected me to fight back. They thought they had won, but all they'd done was bring me exactly what I wanted. I turned back to Eimhir with a smirk.
“I'd start running, if I were you,” I growled as the plucking notes of “Come Little Children” by Erutan grew louder.
I eased into the sweetly haunting lyrics, opening my arms to the bespelled children of Primeval. Fighting magic with magic, I crooned to them, an eerie lullaby that wove itself around them with promises of warm days in an enchanted world. Come to me, my words, and even my lyrical humming, said to them. You don't want to be here; you want to go home, and I can take you there.
On the surface, it was a charming song, but beneath the pretty melody laid a cynical core. It charmed children, promising them an end to their sorrows... if they would only follow the song. But where was the music leading them? The cold breath of death lurked within the lyrics; giving them a sinister feel. But I wasn't the Angel of Death, and I wasn't there to take the little ones to Heaven. I was there to lead them home, and my offer to free them from suffering was an honest one. I brightened the song and made it even stronger.
The Trinity's spell didn't so much as break as it did flounder and then drown under the strength of mine. The children were possessed by a new purpose, and not even Caorall could hold them back. They rushed forward with a high-pitched roar; a tidal wave of young fairies who used all of their natural-born talents to get free of their captors and reach me. Little horns speared, fangs bit, claws sliced, and the daggers that had been so generously supplied to them struck out at any who tried to keep them from me. The children were past their captors within seconds.
Reyne snatched up his daughter with a joyous cry while the other soldiers grabbed as many children as they could carry and rushed away with them; leading the older ones into the forest. As soon as they were safe, I let go of the magic and returned the children's free will. My song faded away; echoing gently through the trees as the Lesser Fey raced the children to safety. The Trinity of Strengths glared at me; all three of them trembling with fury.
“Now, it's three against one!” Eimhir shouted. “You may have saved the children, but you've lost your army. You're all alone, Queen Elaria. Your lovers can't help you, nor can the Hound of Hades, and all of Primeval has abandoned you. Surrender, and we'll kill you quickly.”
I laughed scathingly.
“Alone?” I asked with a smile. “I am a Queen of Tír na nÓg; I am never alone.”
The magic of Kyanite rushed through me, and I felt its approval in my bones. It gave me strength, but it also cleared my mind—Kyanite was a stone of communication, and that communication could be used to focus my thoughts. I knew what needed to be done; I could see it clearly now. I felt the truth of it in the ground beneath my feet and the air I breathed in deeply.
“Your stone can't help you here,” Caorall called out to me. “There isn't enough kyanite in Primeval to support you.”
“I don't need to be near Kyanite to touch its power,” I said smugly.
“It matters not,” a giant man stepped out of the Amber Temple; crouching to get through the doorway. “You may be able to oppose fairies, Spellsinger, but you won't fare so well against a God.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I gaped at the enormous blond man. Then I saw his leather pants, and a memory rushed in. “I know those pants,” I whispered. “You were the one carrying the barghest children.”
“And the one who took your Blooders,” he added with a smile. “The name is Mimir. I'm the God of Knowledge, and I know exactly how to defeat a Spellsinger.”
“How is this any of your business?” I growled at him. “This isn't even your world.”
“After the Sapphire War, the Lesser Fey of Primeval were scared that the Shining Ones would destroy the Veil,” Mimir said casually. “This was their second attempt, after all. Well, you and I know what would happen if the Veil were destroyed; all of the realms would fall—and that makes this my business.”
“We went to the Coven for help,” Eimhir sneered. “And we were turned away. The Witches said they'd made the Relic, and it had done its job. There was no need to destroy an entire race when there was such a successful guardian in place.”
“Gee; that sounds rather reasonable,” I growled.
“I didn't agree,” Mimir said. “The Shining Ones had a chance to mend their ways, and all they did was prove how unstable they are. I'm not going to risk my life for them.”
“Mimir taught us how to take control of our world,” Ceanag said viciously. “He gave us the spells to grow Primeval instantly. We'd slowly conquer the Jewel Kingdoms without lifting a single sword.”
“You!” I snarled. “You were the ones tainting the land with black magic.”
“Sometimes we must walk through the darkness to reach the light,” Eimhir said. “We did what we had to do to save Tír na nÓg.”
“No, bitch,” I snapped. “I saved Tír na nÓg; you poisoned it. And then I came here and saved the trees from your poison. Your magic would have killed this entire planet!”
“We were working on a way to alleviate the taint,” Caorall growled. “But then you butted in.”
“Blood magic can be tricky.” Mimir shrugged.
“Blood magic?” I blinked at them, and then my expression cleared. “The missing fairies; you killed them.”
“To create life, you must first start with life,” Mimir said tonelessly. “For each tree born—as tall and strong as its ancient brothers—we had to begin with a fairy.”
“The trees,” I whispered. “That's why they felt strange. You made fairies into trees? What's wrong with you evil sons of bitches? Those are your people! You killed your own fairies to save them? That's the most twisted fucking logic I've ever heard.”
“It's the same as sending soldiers to war,” Eimhir reasoned. “There were loses, but they were for the greater good.”
“That is not the same,” I growled. “Soldiers fight willingly—they have a chance of survival—but the fairies you killed weren't given any chances or choices. You're murderers; plain and simple.”
“We are saviors!” Eimhir screeched. “And I'm done justifying myself to you. Kill her, Mimir.”
Mimir gave Eimhir a sideways look, and she flushed.
“Please,” she added.
Mimir chuckled and started toward me.
He attacked quickly, but there was still enough time for me to tell Kyanite what song I needed. “No Roots” by Alice Merton. How fucking appropriate is that? As the first upbeat strums of an electric guitar thrummed through the clearing, Mimir paused, and the Trinity's eyes went wide.
“You said that Primeval has abandoned me,” I called out to them. “But I think it's you who has lost the forest's support. You hurt Primeval; you betrayed it and failed it as its guardians. And now, it wants revenge.”
I stepped back into the trees as I began the toe-tapping opening lines; singing about how my life was lived without any kind of tether. I could go anywhere I pleased. But that wasn't the meaning I needed from the music, and I shifted the words with my intent. Freedom was what I was aiming for, but not mine. I called upon Primeval to fight for itself; to take the magic I offered and pull up its roots to stand against those who had wronged it.
And Primeval answered my call.
The ancient trees around us creaked with eagerness as their roots surged up from the soil. An eruption of dirt burst into the air around the clearing; a circle of earth that seemed to consecrate the battlefield like a Witch's ward. Leaves shivered with fury and sap gushed from the broken soil, bubbling with its own a
nger. Primeval had seethed in futility; unable to reach the thorns lodged in the shelter of its own heart. It had called to me—drawing the magic it needed to it—and now I finally knew why. Primeval hadn't lured me there to save it, but to give it the power to save itself. I was the only one who could set the forest free.
I heard them then; the voices of the trees. They called to each other in rapid clicks and deep rumbles, and as they did, those sounds shifted into meaning for me. I felt the tingles of Kyanite inside my mind and knew it was my stone's magic that translated the language into something I could understand. The words took form, and Primeval spoke to me.
“Sing, Queen of Kyanite! Sing for us, and we shall take back our kingdom! We shall purify our blood with that of our enemies!”
I sang on—just as the trees urged me to do; moving aside as their roots carried them past me and across the clearing. Like a mass of snakes roiling below the sturdy trunks, the roots did more than carry their trees forward. They also lashed out; snapping in the air before them like living whips. The Trinity of Strengths lost their courage and tried to run.
But it was far too late for that. They should have listened to me when they had the chance.
Primeval descended upon its traitorous guardians; binding them with sticky, sap-coated roots before crushing them with the weight of enormous trunks. The Trinity was covered in seconds; I barely even heard the screams.
I continued to sing as Primeval took its vengeance, and then I sang the trees back into their homes. Their roots rolled by me and then slithered into the earth; reconnecting with the veins and arteries of sap that gave the trees life and magic. I felt the heart of Primeval pounding with joy and relief, and then the forest settled into peace once more.
“Thank you,” the trees whispered to me like the wind through the leaves.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I picked my way across the demolished field; clumps of dirt and leaves littered the ground. Three bodies laid among the debris; crushed nearly flat. I stood before them somberly; staring at their pulverized limbs and the blood-churned ground. They needed to be buried, but I didn't have the strength for it. Or the shovels. All I wanted to do was go inside and free the men.