Dark Faerie (Alfheim Academy

by S. T. Bende

  Had someone made a literal deal with Hel?

  Gods, what exactly are we dealing with?

  “Aura, the senators!” Viggo leapt to his feet, and I scrambled to do the same. I followed his eyeline to the corner of the cavern, where the remaining three pillars wobbled from left to right. “We have to make sure they don’t touch the columns!”

  “On it.” I nudged the darkness from my chest, ignoring the burn as the bees resisted eviction. With shaky breaths, I drained the energy into the ground. Once it was clear I pressed against the boundary of my protection, growing it until it encompassed the now exposed senators. Terror emanated from their trembling hands and tightly shut eyes. One wrong move, and they’d fry just like the guards.

  “Don’t move!” I shouted. “Whatever happens, do not step outside of—”

  “Oh, gods! It’s falling!” One of the senators leapt from the huddle, charging away from the crumbling column.

  “No!” I tried to expand my shield. But a piece of the pillar fell across the senator’s path. She arched her back as she burned, the fire zipping along her threadbare robes. While I struggled to protect her cluster of colleagues, she fell to the ground. Flames lapped at her remains.

  “Stay. There.” I gritted to the survivors. “I’ve got you.”

  The remaining senators only nodded in agreement.

  Crackles echoed across the cavern as the rest of the columns crumbled, then toppled over. The edge of my shield burned as pieces of the pillars bounced off of it—hot coals against a too-thin membrane. But the senators remained untouched, and when the final piece landed, I shakily withdrew my protection. I held out my hands as I approached the trembling Opprør.

  “You’re okay,” I said slowly. “I’m Aura, and this is Viggo. We’re here to help you.”

  “They’re . . . dead,” a tall man whispered. “All of them.”

  I turned around. In place of chaos stood a scene of quiet destruction. Signy’s team was scattered across the cavern, some doubled over while others picked themselves off the floor. Rafe’s warriors were alighting from their airborne positions. And a small cluster of älva stood in a circle, weapons drawn.

  What was going on?

  Viggo stepped beside me. “When the columns fell, so did the rest of the guards. All but one.”

  I followed his eyeline to the single survivor. A hooded figure stood defiantly in the circle of faeries. His face was covered, but his drawn shoulders and fisted hands let me know he wasn’t about to go down easily.

  Good thing a half-dozen älva had him at blade-point.

  Rafe pushed through his team to stand in front of the man. He was shorter than the rest of his guards, and appeared to wear his cloak on a slightly smaller frame. Rafe pointed to the far wall, where a large black hole now swirled within the cavern. “I presume you entered through that?”

  My heart clenched. I’d seen that hole before. With the sparks flying off its edge, it looked exactly like the one Dragen had come through when he’d entered from . . .

  Oh, gods. The sulfurous odor suddenly made sense. Viggo had told me that Svartalfheim always smelled of rotten eggs. If the guards we’d killed had been from the dark realm, it could only mean that their leader was . . .

  No.

  “That can’t be Dragen.” I stepped closer to Viggo. “We sent him to Helheim. I saw it.”

  Signy stormed across the cavern, her sword pointed at the still-hooded man. “Who are you? And how did you summon a portal?”

  The man said nothing, simply drew his shoulders farther back and lifted his chin. His hood slipped slightly with the movement, and as the fabric rode up, I could have sworn I made out the boxy jaw and too-thin lips of—

  “Narrik!” Signy hissed. “It’s you.”

  Crêpes.

  Before Rafe could react, Narrik drew a blade from his cloak. He drove the dagger into one of the älva, forcing her to double over. As she clutched at her stomach, he jammed his knee into her face. The contact elicited a sickening crack, and the woman soared backwards. Narrik dove for the portal, slipping into the blackness before Rafe’s guards could seize him. The hole sparked, spun, and closed in on itself, sealing Narrik in whatever corner of the cosmos housed cowards.

  Rafe swore loudly. “Follow him!”

  “We can’t.” Signy shook her head. “And I doubt we’d want to be wherever he’s gone. I’m sure there are more guards waiting for him. We need to move the prisoners to a secure location before he opens another portal.”

  “Maja?” I addressed my comm. “Which exit is the safest?”

  “The upper,” she said quickly. “It’s closest, and leads to the cliff top, which will make for an easy extraction site. Have my dad’s warriors fly the prisoners back to your base.”

  “Everybody hear that?” Signy clapped her hands together. “Rafe, do you remember where our academy is?”

  “One never forgets,” he said.

  “Good. A Protektor team is guarding the älva in the Verge facility—it was the most secure place for us to take your citizens. Have your team fly the senators there. We’ll follow on foot. Aura, lead them out.”

  “On it.” I turned to face the still shell-shocked politicians. “Come with me. Quickly.”

  I waved them forward, directing Viggo to cover the rear of their line. Several of the älva flanked us as we made our way through the cavern. By the time we cleared out of the mountain, the sky was almost completely black. The only light came from a cloud-covered moon.

  It only took a few minutes to assign each senator to an älva. And though each of them clung to their extractor in what seemed to be genuine terror, they allowed the faeries to fly them off the mountain. As they crossed the sky, the remaining warriors gathered around Signy. Zara and Ondyr stepped beside me, and I hurriedly scanned them for injuries. Zara’s arm was bleeding, and there was a nasty slice across Ondyr’s thigh. But they were both standing, and by some miracle, still in one piece. I’d take whatever I could get.

  “The fastest route home is across the cliffs.” Signy pointed to the rocky terrain that bordered the sea. “Keep a steady pace, and watch for unexpected portals. Aura, Viggo, we’ll reconvene with you at the academy.”

  “No way.” I shook my head. “Somebody’s got to cover you from the air.”

  “It’s too dangerous to be this exposed. Frigga only knows when Narrik might show up again—or how many guards he’ll bring with him when he returns.”

  “Exactly.” Viggo stepped forward. “We’ve got you from the sky. Just make sure everyone travels home safely.”

  Signy shook her head, but led her team across the cliff. She seemed tired, worn, and in all likelihood, was completely exhausted from the threat we’d faced. But she held her chin high and moved as the commander she was. I hoped one day, I’d be able to lead with her grace.

  Viggo slipped his hand through mine, and squeezed lightly. “Ready to fly, faerie princess?”

  I shot him a look. “That’s faerie warrior princess, thank you very much.”

  “Whatever you say, Glitre.” Viggo winked.

  With a grin, I spread my wings and launched into the sky. Whatever obstacles lay ahead, Viggo and I were going to conquer them together.

  Even if I had no idea how.

  Chapter 18

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS where a whirl of activity. By the time we made it to the academy, the senators had been debriefed and sent home to their families. They’d left the mountain malnourished, weak, and undeniably traumatized. But they were alive, thank gods. In time, they’d find their way back to their former lives. The once captive älva were reunited with their families, too. Though I’d been with the ground team, I’d heard that Rafe had wept when he’d spotted Emilie. According to Finna, he’d swept his daughter into his arms, loosened his hold just long enough to assess that Emilie was, in fact, okay, then hugged her even tighter than the first time. When he told her how much he loved her, Rafe’s words had been broken up by his shoulder-heaving sobs. The re
union had been so sweet that most who had witnessed it had burst into happy tears.

  Less happy was the discovery of Narrik’s role in the älva’s detention. We learned that he’d been highly involved in their captivity, paying weekly visits to their camp and personally managing their living conditions. According to witnesses, he’d instructed the älva be kept in quarters poor enough to strip them of hope, but not abysmal enough to affect their dust supply. Narrik had ordered the dust harvesting, employing high-ranking military Elementär to siphon the magic from the faerie’s wings before allocating it to the resources Narrik deemed most worthy. Some had gone to the barrier, but a portion had also been given to a Styra-led team who used the dust to control key government officials . . . including Queen Constance.

  Apparently with certain manipulations, älva dust could be utilized as a mind-altering substance—an odorless, traceless drug not unlike those derived from Midgardian nightshade plants. Emilie had overheard one of the Styra tell Narrik to administer the powder on the rim of a glass, or mixed into a drink—it didn’t sound as though his victims had been aware they were being compromised. Though my grandmother had known Narrik held something over her—something big enough for her to fear him. Now that both Narrik and his substance of choice were gone, I hoped some of Constance’s fear would go away. She was finally free of Narrik’s control . . . and we’d find out what kind of ruler she truly wanted to be.

  “Let me get this straight.” Finna looked up from a single sheet of paper. On it, she’d compiled the key points of the senator’s debriefings. Now she, Viggo, Elin, Ondyr, Zara, Wynter, Jande, and I sat around Signy’s living room, discussing its contents over the bevy of baked goods my aunt had prepared between debriefing the Opprør and rehabilitating the älva. “On the night the senators were abducted, a team of hooded figures broke into the senate building. And nobody thought that was suspicious?”

  “Nobody noticed, because they unleashed a gas that knocked most of the building’s occupants unconscious.” Jande wrapped his hands around a mug of tea. “The transcript I read said the entire building was offline for ten minutes—even the imaging feeds went down. The perpetrators must have drugged the security team and cut the connections.”

  “Obviously, security will need to be reevaluated,” Viggo said. “A secondary, uncompromisable system should be implemented. Ondyr?”

  “On it.” Ondyr cracked his knuckles with a smile. “We had a few in play on Svartalfheim. I’m sure I can adapt one of them.”

  “What happened after the gas was administered?” Wynter picked at the edge of a chocolate cookie.

  “Most of the senators were completely unconscious, but a few remember being blindfolded, dragged through the hallways, and stuffed into a transport.” Finna glanced at the paper. “They were taken to a small, dark room—most likely the first of the prison cells inside the southern mountain. Two escape attempts led to the installations of energy columns. The guards were determined to keep the senators incarcerated.”

  “The columns did their job,” Zara growled. “The report I read said there was an altercation between a senator and a guard. Apparently at the end of it, the guard threw the senator into one of the columns. She died instantly, and the guard left her corpse in the cell—a reminder of what happened to those who challenged authority.”

  Viggo grimaced. “I hope he was one of the ones I killed.”

  “I’m just glad it’s over,” Wynter said sadly. “Those poor senators.”

  “I can’t believe Narrik was behind their disappearance the whole time.” Finna shook her head.

  “We’d always assumed as much. But we weren’t able to gather any evidence against him . . . until now.” Signy carried a fresh plate of lefse from the kitchen to the table.

  “What tipped his hand?” I asked.

  “It was Emilie.” Signy slid into a chair. “Her statement led us to the Styra and Elementär who were working with Narrik. Larkin interrogated them pretty thoroughly—by which I mean strong threats were issued.”

  “That sounds like Mom,” Elin said dryly.

  Signy smiled. “They broke fairly quickly. Apparently Narrik bragged to them about possessing something that would cement his role as Alfheim’s true leader.”

  “The missing senators?” Elin guessed.

  “Correct.” Signy nodded. “He intended to do to the senators what he did to the älva—keep them healthy enough to stay alive, but in conditions that stifled their spirits. He figured at some point, once the realm grew truly desperate, he would offer a trade: the return of the senators, in exchange for his being named ruler.”

  “Is that why he drugged the queen?” Viggo asked. “So he could make sure she lost the trust of her people?”

  “Yes,” Wynter said. She pushed the plate of cookies across the table toward Viggo and Ondyr. They eagerly dug in. “I can’t believe the regent could be so easily—and thoroughly— compromised. Aura, we’re going to need to put checks in place to make sure that never happens to you.”

  “Seriously,” I said.

  “It’s definitely troubling,” Signy agreed. “But even more worrisome is Narrik’s apparent alliance with a dark realm—one that supplied him with guards, and offers him the opportunity to travel by portal.”

  “He has to be in Svartalfheim.” Ondyr took a savage bite of his cookie. “The Kyan Flats are crawling with sulfur—and the dark elves who live there are massive, just like those guards.”

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “You don’t think Dragen escaped, do you?”

  “It’s highly improbable.” Wynter shook her head. “We sent him to Hel’s inner chamber. Nobody’s ever come out of there alive. Though the occasional deceased makes their way to the Cloak.”

  I shuddered. “Who else could he be working with?”

  “Literally anyone.” Ondyr paused mid-bite. “Narrik is—or was—a powerful government officer. Any number of Svartalfheim’s senators would have traded their fortunes to gain access to the light realm.”

  “Don’t forget the fire giants,” Jande said. “If Narrik could be bought, I’m sure leaders on Muspelheim would have thrown in bids.”

  “And Jotunheim,” Zara added. “The frost giants have been trying to get control of Alfheim for years.”

  “So we have plenty of enemies. And apparently, so does Vanaheim. I talked to Idris yesterday—there haven’t been any more breaches, but they still don’t know who managed to get into their realm. Or how.” I sighed. “What do we do now?”

  “Well . . .” Finna and Elin exchanged a glance.

  “I recognize that look. You’re up to something.” My eyes narrowed. “Out with it.”

  “Okay.” Finna squirmed in her seat. “Remember before you left, when you told us to work out a proposal you could pitch to the senate? The one about reinstating the restoration teams, so we could fix the regions that died, and bring the whole of Alfhiem back to at least a semi-habitable state?”

  “Yes . . . why?”

  “Well, we did it!” Elin blurted. “We combed through old resolutions, followed the proper format, found precedents, and developed a cost-saving plan that even the most stubborn senators won’t be able to find fault in.”

  My hand went to my chest. “You did all of that? When?”

  “We took shifts,” Jande said. “We realized we only needed two of us on ground ops at any given time, so during off periods we researched and wrote. We brainstormed the actual implementation during slow times so all three of us could work together.”

  “It’s in our dorm,” Finna said. “We’ll walk you through it after we all get some rest.”

  “That’s incredible.” I blinked the moisture from my eyes. “I can’t believe you did that on top of everything else you were dealing with.”

  “You asked us to help the realm,” Elin said simply. “We weren’t going to let you down.”

  My heart felt like it might burst from my chest. Thank gods for my friends. They were truly the greatest beings
in all the realms.

  “Hey. Don’t cry.” Elin reached over to pat my shoulder.

  “I’m so grateful for you guys. For everything you’ve done for me, and for Alfheim, and for . . .” I sniffled. “Stupid tears.”

  “We love you too,” Finna said easily.

  I wiped my nose on my sleeve. “I can’t wait to read your resolution. And propose this at the next senate session. And then . . .”

  “And then we’ll do we’ve always done.” Viggo’s fingertips brushed mine, and I looked over at him. His emerald eyes sparked with determination. “We implement change where we can. We eliminate darkness wherever it’s found. And we wake up every day, determined to leave our world better than it was yesterday.”

  “Easy as that, huh?” I turned my palm so I could lace my fingers through his.

  “Easy as that.”

  For all of our sakes, I hoped he was right.

  A month later, I stood in the formal senate chamber. My argument was bulletproof, my speech impeccably rehearsed, and at Vendya’s insistence, I wore my great-grandmother’s power tiara atop my uncomfortably tight updo. The tiara’s sky-blue crystals were meant to channel strength and wisdom, and, as Vendya pointed out, they coordinated with the navy pantsuit she’d designed for the session.

  Some things never changed.

  Most importantly, I finally faced a full senate—one made of both Kongelig and Opprør, all listening while I laid out the details of my friends’ newly drafted Restoration Resolution. It provided not only the scientific and energetic blueprints for restoring Alfheim to its once vibrant state, but a promise to never again abuse the powers of its residents. Further, it fleshed out consequences so severe, no sound-minded individual would dare breach its parameters. As for those of unsound mind . . . if they ever returned, we’d deal with them. Harshly.