Test of Fae

by S L Mason

  “Lord Deston forbade it.” Lavender moves back to the wall. Her fear wakes from her, reaching me at breakneck speed before it slams into my senses.

  My leg refuses to obey my wishes. I hum my limp leg over the side of the bed while the other one follows. Licking my lips, I pierce them together and whistle up a mirror. My naked body is a forest of black and blue. Other than my right forearm, every part of me had been beaten. The watery acid leaves red patches all over my legs, along with my wound, which is leaking blood. Speckles of red dots my chest. The real damage is the side of my face, but it doesn’t stop there. Melted skin drips down my neck, flowing over my shoulder to my upper chest. My right eyelid sags with the skin pulling and distorting the once almond shape. It missed my lips and the eye itself. The image conjures up a vision of the Phantom of the Opera. Is this what I look like now? My nostrils flare with hot air.

  “Lavender, please leave me alone.” I push her. Magic has its uses. She hurries from the room. I’d compelled her, and I did it on purpose.

  I can’t tear my eyes from the mirror. I devour every scar, and I slowly cry for Nick and every other person who isn’t alive to cry for their own scars. My hands grasp the sides of the mirror, willing it to change.

  Kelly green eyes glow at me with the almond shape of the Faes—it’s my own. I push the hair back on my left side, revealing my intact ear, long and pointed, angling out from my head. My legs had grown along with my arms. My waist is long and thin. Now on one side, I’m beautiful, but the other is a monster coming to kill you. I truly look Fae, two-faces and all.

  Air can’t fill my lungs. The muscles in my throat quiver in protest. I lean in and crash face first into the floor. The mirror disappears. Pushing up from the floor, I work my legs under my body and try to stand, but I’m too weak. The world tilts, spinning with the sudden movement. A hum rises in my chest. My body rises with it, moving back to the bed.

  Magic wakes emanate out to batter the walls. A withering pushes out from my position, engulfing the room in dead silvery rot. Leaves drop, drifting down to clatter like rocks on the floor. I gasp for air that never reaches me. My arms cross, gripping each bicep and digging with my nails.

  The remains of my clothes lie on the floor with knives still sheathed in their scabbards. The rumble in my chest draws one to me.

  My hand aches for it, to draw cold steel across my skin, freeing the blood held there. I want to see the color. Is it red or blue? The T-shaped handle nestles between my index and middle fingers, ready to slash whatever my heart desires. Poised to cut, the blade glimmers at me, calling to me. My lips curl into a cruel smile.

  “Sarah, stop,” Janice pleads.

  I don’t want to stop. I want to die with everyone else. My chest burns with anguish while my eyes smolder. The only one left is Arty, and I can’t even help him.

  “That way is the UnSeelie way. That is what he wants.” Janice moves into my line of vision and kneels down to eye level. Janice’s eyes meet mine.

  I dart away. I want to scream.

  The blade clatters to the floor. I watch it in fascination as the tip lodges itself in the wood. The floor wakes back its irritation at the metallic intrusion. I wish it had stabbed me.

  Nails dig into palms, tightening into a fist. My eyes meet Janice’s smoky amethyst pools. Raising my fist, I lower it, adding a wake of power for an extra push. The blow slams his shoulder, forcing him back.

  I hear his exhale and ignore it. Instead of following it with another, I scream in frustration. “Why, Why, Why?”

  Janice takes the pummeling, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Don’t give up! What’s inside is what matters, not out.” He whispers.

  My hands falter midair. This isn’t me. I’m mad, but Janice isn’t my enemy, is he?

  His hand cups my scarred cheek, and his magic encircles me like honey. Slow, warm, and sticky sweet, Janice sings. White gauze floats around my form, encasing my breast and hiding my wounds. His eyes never waver from mine.

  “What’s inside is what makes you so precious. All the world will fight and kill to possess it.” His eye moves from mine to my lips.

  My heart speeds up, as my tongue plays across my lips. His warm hand rests on the smooth side of my face, sending shivers down my neck.

  “Deston is coming. You need to be ready. Ask him to heal you.” In one swift motion, he’s across the room, near the door. He tips his head, his eyes grazing over me. Then he looks away.

  His eyes pull me in every direction at once, stretching my chest tight over my bones. Pain evaporates with the flight of butterflies in my belly. Bruises and bleeding melt into the background with one gaze from him. The silver of the walls bloom with life, flowering into a drunken perfume. So thick is the foliage I can’t make out the walls for the blooms and leaves.

  His gaze settles back on me. His full lips melt from a thin line to a broad smile. My damaged skin wrinkles and cracks with the force of my grin. “Happy is all I want for you, Sarah.” His husky admission is all I want.

  The door swings open, revealing Deston, followed by Lavender. Janice’s eyes tear from me to stare at the wall. His smile is gone.

  “I’m so relieved you’re awake. The next challenge is in two weeks, and we need you at full strength,” Deston exclaims and then lays his hand over mine.

  The fog returns full force, muddling a mind only moments ago sharp and clear. I shake my head, but it does nothing more than add a dizzying effect to the mix.

  Deston’s touch locks me in place, moving from dizzy to drowning in a split second. Is this how enchantment feels? Why is this happening? My heart pounds with his touch. I only feel this way when Deston is around. Somehow, he’s has a power over me but I can’t see it. If I can’t see it, I can’t break it.

  It’s different than when Janice touches me.

  Deston licks his lips. My eyes follow the movement unbidden, no matter how hard I try I can’t tear myself away. I physically want to kiss him. Mentally, I recoil from the idea. Why do I only feel this way when Deston’s around?

  Janice told me Fae can’t enchant each other. Is this how Lavender feels when I compel her?

  “I’ll have an apothecary to look you over and treat that wound.” Deston steps back, removing his hand and releasing me from whatever power he has over me. That’s it—a power.

  Janice’s words run through my mind.

  “Can’t you heal me?” I plead, showing only the unmarred side of my face. Why am I behaving like this?

  Deston’s eyes widen as he pulls his hand from mine. “I can’t, my love. Even in Fae, healing takes time.” The lie leaves his lips so easily. I heard it, but which was the lie? The love or the healing?

  “Then I hope to heal fast.” Leaning back into the pillows, I close my eyes. I don’t want to look at Deston’s beautiful lying face anymore.

  “I’ll check on you tomorrow.” With that, he turns and leaves the room. The fog recedes with him.

  CHAPTER 31

  Lavender flitters around, touching and smoothing every wrinkle on the bed. A sound from the door produces another white-haired Fae with a case. He turns his orange eyes to my leg, pinching his lips to one side.

  “I can only put a poultice on the cut. The burn will need a salve. Keep it moist or you’ll lose the flexibility in the skin.” The apothecary’s eyes dart to Janice and Lavender. He never meets my gaze, but he focuses on the task at hand with efficiency. His aura reeks of nerves and fear.

  “What’s your name?” I inquire.

  The man’s fingers still, and there’s an intake of breath. “Kag’a, my Lady.”

  I’d compelled him. I shouldn’t have done that. “Kag’a, your work is acceptable.” Can’t say thank you.

  The breath he holds slips away. Placing his supplies back in his box, he leaves as does Lavender. The room sighs with the release of tension.

  I glare at Janice. “How can you stand there and act like you’re here to help me? Like you’re on my side when everything the Fae say
is a lie? Whatever it is the Fae say, it means the exact opposite,” I snap.

  Janice crosses his hands in front, clasping them together. “Have you learned nothing about the courts? The Unseelie, the Seelie? Black is white, white is black.” His words stun me to the core. The acid in my belly rises in my throat. I know what he means, but that can’t be true. Deston is on my side. He’s my ally. Just the thought of Deston brings the fog back. He’d always been my ally; he’s never done anything to hurt me.

  Those words came unbidden. “You’re lying. It isn’t backward. I don’t have it wrong. Deston’s on my side. He’s fighting for us, all of us.” As I say it, I know them for the lie they are. Deston isn’t fighting for all of us. Deston is fighting for himself.

  Black is white, white is black. Deston is white. How could I have been so stupid? Blood fills my ears, raging through me. The songs of every building, leaf, and tree rage with me. The shape of the room morphs around me, distorting and changing. Everywhere my green eyes look, flowers wilt with the leaves fading away. I rake Janice over, inspecting him. His hair is almost completely black now.

  “You changed,” I say. “You were white when I met you, but now your hair is black. Tell me what that means.”

  The ends of his lips curve up as satisfaction fills his eyes. “It means exactly what you think it means. I switched sides. In Fae, we can’t lie about which court we belong to. Black is white, and white is black.”

  I look down and around the walls are no longer rich, shining, or humming with life. They’re no longer a living tree. They’d turned to that dark gray with the silver shot through, the color only dead trees get. I killed this whole room. My anger did that. I don’t need to sing anymore to make my will happen.

  “What does that make me? My hair is black. It’s growing out black. Why didn’t Lavender dye it white when she first had the chance?” Both eyebrows pinch in the middle, pulling down on my scalp and the new scar.

  “Lavender didn’t dye your hair at all. Lavender revealed your true colors, nothing more nothing less. In Fae, you can lie about many things. You can lie about love, you can lie about family. You can lie about who your friends and allies are. You can lie and say you love flowers when in truth you love monsters. But you cannot lie about which court you answer to. Lavender revealed which court you belonged to. You were so filthy when I brought you in, almost no one could tell your hair was brown. I’d made sure of that when I dragged you through the mud. I protected you. You belong to the Seelie court, not the Unseelie Court. Deston doesn’t know, and that is how you can win.”

  I feel the air slide into my nostrils, filling my chest. With every breath in and out of my body, I’m relieved knowing to which court I belong to. I didn’t understand how important it is. The heavyweight I’d been carrying is gone. It floats away with every breath like the fairy dust I’d always dreamed about as a little girl. The gray of the trees comes back to life, and leaves scream and bloom with flowers. The heady scent of honeysuckle fills the air, my favorite.

  I smile. “Why is it so important to hide what I truly am? What does it matter? If you can’t lie about it, why is it so important to hide it?” I demand.

  His stance changes, his legs apart and his arms crossed, but open for a fight. “You hear, but you don’t listen. Your eyes behold, but do not see. Sarah, I was charged with finding a new Queen.” His body flexes, leaning forward with his admission straining against some unseen force.

  There, that was the missing piece—the part Deston had been hiding.

  “We were all charged with finding a new Queen, by any means necessary to push back the rule of wild,” Janice continues. “If the Fae don’t have a Queen, we’re not controlled. Only a Queen has the power to stop the death and slaughter. We’re a bloodthirsty lot. We like to play tricks on humans. We all enjoy it, and it’s so easy to do. Our Queens fade away; it’s hard work controlling the Fae. Eventually, we suck them dry of all their immortality. What should’ve lasted for time eternal disappears quickly while we outlast the Queens. Every one of us schemes and hopes that our desires will live beyond hers so we can fulfill them when she’s gone. Finding a new Queen, controlling her, manipulating her, and pleasing her. We live for it. We’re like a hive of bees searching for that one perfect Queen.”

  My mouth dries with astonishment.

  He continues. “We feed her the royal jelly until she blossoms. Then, we want to control her. He, who controls the Queen, controls Fae and the fate of humans. I know my cousin. I can never let him control a Queen. I had to let you get away. I had to let Lavender teach you what little she did, and it was just enough. I don’t want to control you. I never did, and as you can see, I have changed my allegiance. For you, Sarah.” He finishes.

  My eyes widen at his omission.

  “When I said the prize was the fate of the world, I meant it,” Janice says. “I have killed. I may be every bit of the bastard that you humans think I am, but I did everything to preserve the balance. A balance only you can provide.” The truth of his words wakes over me. “Take up your mantle. Become Queen. We need you. The world needs you. Do it for humanity. Do it for your friends. Do it for the little girl you insisted upon saving. Do it for all those other girls who didn’t survive. Do it because if you don’t, someone will come and kill you and do it for you.”

  I turn from him and his entreaties. Every breath in my chest shutters, and tears threaten.

  Janice rushes on. “None of them will be nearly as good as you are. It comes so easily to you. Don’t look away.” His hand cups my chin moving my face back to meet his eyes.

  Queen. I’ll never lie on the living room floor watching TV and eating pizza with Arty, go to prom, or graduate from high school or college. For as long as I exist, I’ll be surrounded by conniving, manipulative, strange creatures. Not like me, and every bit like me. My eyes burn, and I blink back tears. Moisture drips down the walls, and they cry for me.

  “Have your cry, Sarah. Remember, it needs to be the last one anyone ever sees. If you want to cry in the future, it needs to be in private. Only when you’re alone. You can’t let anyone see weakness. They prey on it.” He whispers.

  My lower lip presses to the upper as I keep my mouth closed to stop the trembling. Working the muscles in my throat, I swallow. My chest muscles shutter.

  I want to scream, but I don’t. Hot tears roll down my face, burning their path to reach the end of my chin and dripping down between my breasts. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands to feel the pain of it. I said I’d do anything to end this battle, to make the Fae stop killing us—humans. I thought it’d be simple. Something like finding out who’s in charge and killing them. I guess I hadn’t thought it through.

  My father calls it blow-back—unintended consequences of a decision. My mother calls it hindsight; it’s 20/20. You can look behind you and see every choice you made and how it brought you to the point where you’re now. If you’d done one thing differently, you wouldn’t be here.

  Yet I know if I’d done one thing different and I wasn’t here, where would humanity be? I hadn’t done it all right. Find me an eighteen-year-old kid who has. If I go out there and I take up the mantle of their Queen, that’d make me one of them. I don’t know if I can do that. My stomach muscles quiver with the burning inside of me.

  “And there’s no other way?” I whisper and gaze up at him tentatively, pleading. “You’ll just keep killing until there’s a Queen?”

  “Depends on the Queen. A good Queen would make us stop. A bad Queen would continue. I think we both know what kind of Queen you would be.”

  I have no choice. The decision was made for me the moment I stood in the street and saw Janice. I can’t let Nikki win. She’ll rain down death on the whole world for a perceived wrong, keeping Arty by her side. She’ll enchant him and find my parents. I can’t let any of that happen.

  “Tell me what I have to do.” This isn’t just about saving Arty. It hasn’t been for a while. It’s about saving everyone.


  The End

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  THORNS OF FAE

  CHAPTER 1

  Little girls want to be a princess, a fairy, or a mermaid. No one wants to be Queen. I certainly didn't. Queens are evil step mothers who spend all their time trying to kill the young beautiful girl—me.

  —————

  Humming under my breath, I watch the enchantment settle over the rope handrail on the stairs. I'm not walking 700-plus steps just because Deston’s a dick.

  A rush of wind fills my nostrils as the magic pulls me to the ground floor. Humming again, I reverse the enchantment while planting my feet on the stone floor to study myself. The wound on my leg itches, along with my head and back. Nick was right—it does feel like lice.

  The knot in my throat that won't go away forms, and only grows as his voice echoes in my mind. I wish my dad was here. He would say something to help me over it. Something to ease the ache of Nick’s loss.