“What kind of means?” I queried, frowning at her.
“My ability to create portals, to erase minds,” Linford explained, “isn’t just because of my Fae blood and ability with the runes.”
Gabriella snorted. “His troupe was in Russia, awaiting the Tunguska event.”
I blinked. “I’ve heard of that. It was a massive meteorite impact.”
“Massive? Nothing bigger for centuries,” Linford stated proudly. “Knocked over eighty million trees.”
“They never found the impact site,” I said slowly.
“Of course not. We hid it,” Linford murmured dryly.
“You hid it?” I spluttered. How in Gaia’s name did you hide a meteorite?
“Beneath a lake we fashioned.” He rubbed his chin. “Those were the days. Now, everything has to be accounted for on social media. Then, we did as we so chose, damn the consequences.”
“Shut up, you old fool,” Gabriella grumbled. “You speak as one of the Fae and not one whose granddaughter is in danger.”
Linford’s nose crinkled as she whacked him on the side. “True.”
I blew out a breath. “Look, I think we deserve some answers here. Our mate is knocked out, we’re thousands of miles away after a battalion tried to… what? Detain us? You need to help us understand.”
“I don’t need to help you do anything,” Gabriella countered snootily. “But I shall, because then you can explain things to Riel when she awakens.”
“Thank you.” I think.
Sol, it was quite easy to discern where our woman got her attitude from.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Dan pointed out, ever helpful.
“As you can see, I’m not,” Gabriella replied, but she sounded amused now. “Nine years ago, Linny and I decided that it was time I left my family.”
Linny?
I shot the Fae male a look, but he didn’t seem perturbed at the butchering of his name.
I hid my twitching lips and asked, “Why? What happened nine years ago?”
“My daughter was being difficult. I’d lied to her for so long and my lies were coming home to roost,” Gabriella admitted. “I needed her to act, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t because I’d conditioned the fear in her.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve kept an eye on my nieta, but from a distance, it’s easier said than done.” When Riel moaned, she flinched and murmured, “We should get her to a bed. This discussion needn’t take place in the middle of our fields.”
“How did you need her to act?” Dan asked as Seph carefully gathered our still twitching mate into his arms and, with his own wings, hefted them both upright.
Gabriella pointed to the farmhouse, and a blue glow engulfed her hand as the door ahead burst open. The manifestation of her powers didn’t surprise me, not after what her granddaughter could do, but I certainly took note of it. I felt like Dan and Seph registered the blue haze too, because it had to mean something, didn’t it? Exactly what, of course, was a question I didn’t know how to answer.
When we began walking toward the homestead, she explained, “Gabriella wasn’t very adept with magic. My daughter was ashamed of that. Instead of persevering as I wanted her to, she gave up and stopped teaching her the Way.
“I couldn’t tell her why Gabriella was different. Couldn’t tell her what she needed to know to help her, but everything I tried, regardless, never worked.
“Not being able to rely on the Conclave made things harder still, and I knew I was only going to make things more stressful for the family if I didn’t stop butting in.
“When the AFata began sniffing around us again, then Linny and I knew it was time to scatter with safeguards in place.”
I pondered that for a second, and decided she made sense. “Why do the AFata want you?”
“They don’t anymore. They believe I’m dead, of course. But they wanted me because I can manifest. Not many can, and it’s not always something you can inherit. My daughter inherited the power, but it fluctuates around the equinoxes. Gabriella did—equinox or not. I saw a few flutters in her when she was young, even saw how she messed up our magic by just being around us and knew, one day, she’d be strong.” Though there was pride in her tone, she still shrugged. “But to manifest is to compound our powers in a way that few can begin to understand. It’s the difference between being able to light a candle with a single flick of my fingers and to set alight a forest.”
Seph paused on his trek. “You can do that?”
“Yes. Claro. And considering what Gabriella has just done, I’d imagine she can do a lot worse.”
“What do you mean?” I rasped.
“I mean, the power the meteor harnessed was something that the entirety of Hawaii should have felt. Honolulu would have been the epicenter of change, but it should have spread out, the radiation bleeding throughout the island and permeating the ocean, sending change to the four corners of the globe.
“Instead, that all went into Gabriella. And you three.”
Linford cleared his throat, then began, “I touched the Tunguska meteorite a few hours after it impacted. I was given the ability to erase minds and to craft portals through my Fae magic. That was a simple touch. What do you think Gabriella has gained by absorbing the majority of the meteor’s power? What do you think you’ve gained?”
“Sweet Sol,” Seph ground out, staring down at our unconscious mate.
“She wasn’t supposed to do what she did,” Riel’s grandmother whispered. “She was supposed to touch the meteorite after it had landed. That was it. That was my abuela’s vision. Gaia only knows what she’s done to herself by acting as she did.”
❖
Daniel
Several shards of sunlight pierced the dining room window, sending glittery rays dancing along the Formica table. It was scratched and scarred, just like everything else in the farmstead.
I’d been raised in the admin caste which, to most Fae, meant I was poor. But poverty had a different standard in all the races. Poverty to witches and humans, I was learning, was nothing in contrast to a Fae’s notion of it.
I hadn’t been raised in an estate, hadn’t had fighting lessons from my fifth birthday, and hadn’t been able to access a family tithe of magic from birth.
In my world, that meant I was poor.
In this world?
Gaia, I’d been a millionaire.
I’d been raised in a seven-bedroom house with a three-member family. My mother had worked, not because she had to, but to stave off boredom, and my father had a diplomat’s job that put us in the upper echelon of the admin caste, but it still hadn’t put us in the instructor one.
My very middle-class upbringing had never been rammed home to me more than it was now. And from what Riel had told me about her childhood, with nine mouths to feed and her being the one who took up a lot of the childminding because of her gender, I figured that moving to the States hadn’t improved the family’s fortunes any.
At least, I hoped for her sake it had, but somehow, I didn’t see it.
Gabriella served us some coffee, thick and brewed from a pot on the stove that she’d used magic to start. I took a sip of the thick concoction and barely hid a grimace.
“Azúcar?” she asked me, apparently sensing my distaste for the strong, bitter brew.
Clearing my throat, I replied, “Please.” Lots and lots of sugar.
Her lips twitched and with a wave of a hand, a bowl of sugar appeared. I threw in five teaspoons, well aware that not even that quantity would breach the acidic tang that was inherent to the drink.
When I took a sip, it was salvageable, so I didn’t add any more, but the others did, and Sol, I knew that whatever we were doing tonight, we’d be up and about with little to no effort thanks to the caffeine and sugar high this concoction was bound to give us.
The second we’d placed Riel on a rickety wooden bed, Linford had disappeared. Seph and Matthew had enhanced the bed to make it bigger, and as awkward as it had been—cleaned the mattress. W
e were all uneasy as we took in this place. Our standards were a lot higher than Gabriella’s, that was for sure, as she barely used her magic to clean the place up, but that didn’t mean we wanted to embarrass her with that.
Riel was tucked into a bed that would fit the four of us, but the frame was just extended. It was as ramshackle as it had been before. Above the bed, there was a cross-stitch picture of a sunset, and a few rustic terracotta bowls on an old dresser that I tried to tell myself weren’t for washing. Because, sweet Sol, this wasn’t nineteen-fifteen. Who washed out of a bowl and jug these days? And where, oh where, was a functioning toilet?
Wincing at the thought, I watched as Gabriella Sr. finally took a seat at the table and, resting one hand on top of the other, murmured, “You have questions.”
“Yeah, quite a few,” I added wryly.
She sighed but nodded. “It’s a shame Gabriella isn’t awake. She’ll need to hear this story too, but I was right earlier. She’ll take it better from her Virgo.” Reaching up, she plucked at her bottom lip, and I could sense that this wasn’t a story she wanted to drag up again.
Because of that, I inquired, “Maybe tell us about Linford? And… I guess, Noa? Seph’s dad?”
Gabriella pursed her lips, but I saw the relief and gratitude in her eyes as she shot me a look. “Linford’s troupe was at the Tunguska event, as we told you. It took place in 1908, before I was even born, but when we met, they had extra powers.”
“What can my father do?”
“He’s the flying equivalent of Usain Bolt,” she commented wryly. “His speed in the sky was incredible when he was younger. The magic he could make with runes was eye-opening too, but Linford erased most of that from his memory banks. Noa was always a dab hand with blood magic, even if he liked to think he was too good for it.”
“Why? Why would Linford do that?” Seph questioned sharply, his curiosity piqued.
“Because it was safer for him not to remember. It was by mutual agreement that we decided I wouldn’t claim them. They each had goals they wished to attain, and I didn’t like what the bond did to me. It took me from a strong and independent woman into this subservient little mouse—I couldn’t abide that.
“I’d been raised in this house by a mother who’d been beaten by her partner. I’d seen what a man could do to a woman, even one as powerful as she’d been. She could have knocked him down with her magic, showed him true pain, but she never did. He was human, yet regardless of her abilities, you’d never have known she was the more powerful of the two.
“I couldn’t stand the notion that they might make me like that, so I took my daughter and fled to the U.S. Linford knew, of course. We were always the closest—”
“How is that possible?” Matthew rasped. “We’re all bound to Riel. Linford’s troupe was all bound to you. How isn’t that equal?”
She tapped her fingers along the terracotta rim of the mug she’d reached for. “As with any relationship, you get back what you put in.
“Your father, Seph, knew he had to marry up. Or, if not up, then into a line that was just as powerful as his own. He needed the magic. His father had wasted a lot of the familial treasure, and Landgow was barely standing under its own weight. He knew he could never get too close to me, even as the bond worked its wiles on us, he remained apart, as aloof as he could.”
I couldn’t imagine being able to do that. To stand apart from this bond, to turn my back on it. I had definitely been raised differently, thanks to who and what I was, but I had a feeling Seph and Matthew, who’d been raised under the same kind of familial pressure as Noa vil der Luir, didn’t understand it either.
“Linford had no familial pressures. His parents had died partway through his life and he was the head of his line. As an orphan, he wasn’t trusted, so he was able to do things most couldn’t. He has an estate of his own, but it was smaller than Landgow, and easier to maintain. Plus, he had fewer people to attend to. I’m aware of how large Landgow is, even if I was never invited to visit.” Her lips twitched at that, but there was a tension about her eyes that told me she wasn’t happy about never having been invited there.
“Linford and I tried to stay apart for our daughter’s and her family’s sake, but it was difficult. The pull never died. It hasn’t with any of my Virgo, even the ones who perished long ago.”
“My father said he felt the connection break years ago. He said he knew you died.”
“Linford is to blame for that.” She rubbed her temple. “What he can do with the mind is rather concerning. If I didn’t trust him implicitly, I’d be quite scared of his talents.”
If she was scared, then holy Sol, what should we be?
Uneasily, as I shot her a wary look, I asked, “He messed with Noa vil der Luir’s mind?” Noa had once been a powerful Assemblyman—was still powerful, even if he was semi-retired. This knowledge alone would be enough to have Linford detained on trial for treason.
“Yes. Of course. We had to. He had to know I was dead. It cemented things.”
“What like?” Seph demanded, his voice hoarse.
“Noa insisted on maintaining a bank account for my use. When I was dead, he closed it. A small thing, perhaps, but it mattered in certain circles who were monitoring such activity.”
“The AFata?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “They are my one regret in life. Of all the many things I’ve done wrong over the years, they were definitely one of the worst.”
“Why did you join them?”
“Because the Fae were taking America’s side. They were quite content for the States to overrun Cuba, and the AFata was as against that as Che Guevara and Castro. I was never a communist, but a patriot? Sí. I wasn’t about to let America overrun my country, so I joined the fight and aligned myself with someone I would have ordinarily left well alone.
“As a result, I’ve spent half my life in hiding, and I’ve ruined my daughter’s and granddaughter’s lives.” The lines around her mouth tightened as she shook her head. “But, there’s no use in self-pity, and no use in regrets or recriminations. At the time, I did what I had to do, and I’d do it again, therefore, I can’t castigate myself over and over, even knowing what happened.”
Matthew’s brow puckered as he questioned, “When Linford and his troupe touched the meteorite in Tunguska, why were they there?”
Her lips curved. “You’re really asking why there was a battalion of Fae in Honolulu, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “On our way to Riel, we came across a troupe of six. That’s unheard of in the States. But it makes sense now that I know there was a battalion stationed there. Even if a battalion being in a zone that isn’t exactly engaged by war makes no sense to me.”
She nodded. “Honolulu definitely isn’t a warzone, but there are other reasons for the Fae to station a battalion of warriors there.”
“Like what?” I demanded. Warriors weren’t just fighters, they could be peacemakers too, but I got the feeling she wasn’t talking about that. Just call me smart.
“Like a vision,” she murmured, before taking a sip of coffee—unsweetened. Like mud. Ugh. “Before the Ch’ing-yang meteorite, there was a powerful witch. She predicted many things—the meteor itself as well as what it would bring. In her time, she detailed over ten more impact events that would happen between 1490 and 2490, and which would bring great change and power to our people.”
My mouth tightened. “Let me guess. The one in Honolulu was one of those?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath. “Riel was supposed to be nearby… she wasn’t supposed to stop it. I don’t know why she’d have even imagined she could!”
“She could and did,” Matthew replied coolly. “She saved thousands of lives.”
“Tens of thousands without a doubt, maybe even hundreds of thousands,” Gabriella admitted. “But that is neither here nor there.”
Sol, talk about ice cold.
“It matters to the people who are alive now because of her
,” Seph ground out.
“Don’t be sentimental,” she snapped. “People die, it’s what they do. In the interim, we have to deal with a fallout I wasn’t prepared for.
“I don’t even know if Riel will survive what happened tonight. She was fated to be strong, but not that strong.”
“You took the weight of the meteor,” Matthew drawled but the tension bracketing his mouth said it all—none of us could deal with losing Riel. We wouldn’t let her leave us. “Why shouldn’t she have been able to?”
“There’s a huge difference between taking a weight and catching something like that. The momentum alone must have nearly snapped her magic in two, and let me tell you, that’s damn painful.” She rubbed her cheek, her eyes clouded as she thought about the agony our mate must have been in. “Regardless, she did what she did, and now we can only wait to see if she survives the changes the meteor brings.”
My heart went thunk in my chest, and I stared at Matt and Seph, unable to believe Gabriella’s words.
“How can we be okay, but she isn’t? We were in the net,” Seph rasped.
“I don’t doubt your magical talents will have been altered somehow, but yours will manifest gradually. Linford said his talents have grown stronger with time, but at first, they were definitely slow to stir.”
I had to wonder if that was something to celebrate or fear, and my hand tightened around the handle of the earthenware mug as I contemplated our situation. Slowly, I stated, “Gabriella, we began the Claiming rite before the meteor struck.”
Our woman’s grandmother sighed. “Ah.” And before our eyes, her shoulders slumped. She raised her hands to cover her face as a happy laugh escaped her.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matthew demanded, his tone as desperate as I’d ever heard him. He wasn’t alone. Desperate wasn’t even the word. The beast inside me, the one Riel had stirred to life, was raging inside me. Chomping at the bit for more information.
“It means you probably saved her life tonight. Without even knowing it.”
My heart was in my throat now. “How?”
Finally Faeling: An Eight Wings Academy Novel: Book Three Page 3