by Callie Stone
“If we find them in this last portal...” Michael started to say.
“Then we send them back to where they came from,” Natasha finished.
“After all,” Natasha added, “now we know for sure that it’s them. I know some of the fairies had been jerk faces to Troy, but that doesn’t mean...”
“Nothing is certain. It’s become clear at least some fae are involved. After that fight, in Switzerland, some of them just told us outright.” The words came out flatly, words I wanted not to have to say at all, but felt it necessary to say to finish the seemingly incomplete picture Natasha had of the situation.
Natasha trailed off as she sensed the discomfort from the rest of us. She had been unconscious during my exchange with the fae from my old kingdom.
In fact, I felt as though I needed to explain that little wrinkle to everyone.
“Troy, why didn’t you say anything about this before…”
Those few moments in the cemetery in Zurich were not moments I wanted to replay in my memory: holding Natasha after she’d nearly fallen to the ground, my heart full of worry for her. It was the worst state to be in as fae folks from my former kingdom revealed that not only were they working for the side of Kalgin and his minions but were possibly doing so at the behest of my father.
It confounded me as to how not only the denizens, but the leadership could have been collaborating somehow with the darkest of evil forces known anywhere.
As far removed as I thought I had been from the concerns of the kingdom for so long, that idea continued to upset me for reasons I could not articulate and, on that train with my teammates, had no intentions of exploring.
All I could do was try to get out of that facet of conversation as efficiently as I could.
“I thought it would just be best not to discuss it.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Look, we don’t have time for this,” I said as I glared out the window. “I told you that some of the fae were working with demons. We can talk about this later.”
To me, that seemed to wrap up that conversation.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something about that.” Natasha, in her insistence on continuing, showed my assumption that the conversation was over to be dead wrong.
“Go ahead,” I offered, trying not to sound too reticent.
“Isn’t there some, well, power vacuum now. In your old kingdom, I mean? I was just wondering about your father, if you knew anything that was happening with that.”
That sounded a lot worse than just a simple question about the fae kingdom.Thinking about my father inevitably meant thinking about so many things from the past, and in this case the present, that I’d rather avoid, so I avoided the issue altogether whenever possible.
But if she was asking, then she must have been aware of the situation in some way.
“If you remember that… fellow, I guess you could call him, back in Zurich.”
Natasha’s face only showed confusion. After all, that had been such a small part of the many ordeals we had faced.
“Your friend Henry!” Michael shouted gleefully.
“Oh, right,” Natasha said softly.
“Not my friend,” I corrected Michael. “And not ‘Henry’ for certain. But, there were more of him, more of them, I would say. The fae we saw in Zurich.”
“Oh, so you didn’t quite dispatch them all?”
I looked at the ground, then back in her eyes. To me this felt like a challenge, though her face showed only curiosity. I don’t think she knew what she was getting into with that stare.
“We were a little preoccupied,” I exhaled. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it.”
I looked around the compartment. Everyone was staring at me.
“My father is still on his throne, if not literally,” I continued. “And he might be a bit closer to Zavier’s father than I realised.”
“What are you saying?” Natasha asked.
“It was quite explicit.” There was a sensation which felt almost like a tear as I continued to explain as clearly as I could. “The fae there made it clear whose side they’re on, which side my father, their king is on. And it’s not our side.”
“So what, are you afraid of fairies now?” she scowled.
I was a little taken back.
“We should tell Hask,” she continued. “He’ll know what to do.”
I saw a flicker of doubt cross her face, but she didn’t say anything else. I think the truth was we were all a little afraid, not just of the existential threat the dark magic ritual posed to the world we all knew, but of our apparent and growing roles as central figures in this epoch-making struggle.
As for myself, the protective wall that I had built around my mind and my heart, a wall which had been built up over centuries and continuously hardened and reinforced, looked like it was going to need to come down no matter how sturdy and deep I had tried to lay its foundations. It was the wall protecting me from dealing with those things I’d chosen to leave buried in the depths of the past.
“That is what they told Troy,” Alexander confirmed. “Although I had thought it to be so much nonsense. Why haven’t you shared this with Hask?”
“Honestly, I hadn’t thought to. I haven’t been thinking about this at all. I don’t...I can’t.”
I felt Natasha’s hand touching my knee lightly.
She seemed to realise how sore this all was for me. She seemed to understand it much better than even I understood it.
Alexander seemed to briefly look away. I couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want to intrude or if there was another reason.
“Well, we’re almost there anyway,” she said.
I wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.
“There is no point in telling Hask for his advice alone,” I stated flatly. “There is only one thing for this. I’m going to need to talk to my dad.” Nobody argued.
“It’s only been five-hundred years or so.” And nobody laughed, because that was true.
---
The train stopped at a platform that looked as if it was from the Victorian era. It was almost as if the technological clock had been set back here.
The four of us stood from our seats, collected our things, and proceeded off the train. I looked behind me as the train left the station and saw nobody waiting for us.
Stepping from the train car and getting a better look at the space, it became clear that much of the architecture had been updated to a more modern styling, with a steel and glass ceiling high above the cavernous terminal and escalators leading up from the track on which we’d arrived.
However, the escalators were not running. The station looked empty and barren, with only the occasional soft echoes of stray footsteps coming from far off corners of the building.
“Madrid,” the conductor called from the open door of the train car behind us, his accent infused with traces of both Spain and Italy. His announcement was curious as everyone had disembarked by then and it was clearly the end of the line.
Looking at Natasha, Alexander, and the rest of my team surrounded by our luggage next to the train which had taken us from Rome, I felt a tremendous guilt at leaving them at that moment. But, this was something I couldn’t put off as Kalgin and his minions threatened the apocalypse.
“Take care of her,” were my last words before finding a private spot to create a portal to the Kingdom of the Fae.
13
A Sliver of Darkness
Natasha
After his justification, which seemed at one both forced and perfectly believable, Troy just left us there in the Madrid train station to go create a magic circle to the Kingdom of the Fae. As important as he seemed to think that was, he left Alexander, Kieran, Michael, and I standing in the train terminal literally holding our bags.
“What did he say?” is all I could ask after Troy walked off into some dark corner of the station.
“He said we need to stick together,” Alexand
er responded, staring off into some distance. “Or something like that.”
“I can’t get a signal here,” Kieran exclaimed, poking at his phone. “Hask messaged me to hire a hotel suite and expense report it, which I did, but...”
“We need to find the portal,” Alexander growled, letting whatever frustration he was feeling build.
“We need to find the suite I just booked,” replied Kieran.
“Kieran’s right.” I picked up my bags. “We need to get you back to the hotel, wherever it is, before daybreak.” I pointed to Alexander.
“You might want to hurry.”
The three of us walked over to the exit of the train station. I spared a glance over my shoulder and saw Alexander still in the middle of the space, growling.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Is he coming?”
Kieran whipped his head around.
“You’re the one we’re hurrying for,” he shouted over to Alexander.
Alexander lingered inside, nearly still and looking as if he were studying one of the massive, leafy plants on display in the middle of the station’s main floor. What he was actually ruminating on was anybody’s guess.
“I don’t have time for this,” I said.
“It’s not that he’ll disappear off the face of the Earth if he stays out after dark, but you know how it is. Sunlight hurts. It actually burns.”
“So does acid. Let’s not even get started on what freaking airplanes do to you,” Kieran said, imitating being burned.
We were both actually addressing Alexander, knowing he could hear us clearly, as a way to get some reaction and movement from the traditionally the most active and imperious member of the team.
“Okay, the pair of you have officially lost it,” I said.
“Look, let’s just get this over with.”
“Are you sure, Natasha?”
“I’m sure. We’re wasting time.”
Grumbling under his breath, Kieran followed me out of the alley and onto the open street.
It was a pleasant, cool predawn, with the moon looking nearly full apart from a lingering dark sliver. Still, Alexander would be feeling the burn any minute now.
“You coming, big guy?” I heard Michael yelling a few meters behind us, followed by Alexander’s distinctive footfalls. Apparently, that was what it took to get Alexander to snap the hell out of it.
“Right this way.” Kieran gestured for us to follow him down the narrow street just outside Madrid-Chamartin Station. He was taking his phone back out of his pocket.
“I thought you lost the address when your phone went dead,” I said while following him along with Alexander and Michael.
“I could tell it was close by,” Kieran answered with unusual confidence past a taxi stand towards a five-story brutalist glass and concrete building just adjacent to the station.
“Yes, this is the hotel, alright,” Kieran confirmed out loud upon checking his phone. For once, he was in control and the rest of us continued to follow him silently.
We walked along the cracked pavement path leading into the hotel. The air became refreshingly chilly after we followed Kieran through the revolving door into the lobby. While the walk to the hotel had been quiet enough, with no noises but the hum of traffic in the background, the hotel lobby was even more peaceful. Not quite ominously quiet, but bordering on unsettling as we approached the front desk.
“Buenos días, gente encantadora,” the woman at the front desk greeted us warmly and a bit familiarly.
She had a dark brown complexion and long curly hair with lightly tanned features. Her shimmering maroon-coloured dress fit in well with the elegant dark wooden furniture and ivory walls of the hotel lobby.
“Hablas inglés?” Kieran asked with a somewhat endearing over-formality.
“Of course, sir,” she responded with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
“We have a reservation under the name, uh, hang on.” As Kieran started tapping at his phone to find whatever name he’d used to reserve our suite, the woman’s face seemed to be fighting the urge to show any trace of confusion. After Michael tried to cover up a guffaw by clearing his throat, the hotel desk lady’s features fell back into a warm smile.
“Ah, yes,” declared Kieran. “The name is Smithers…Peter Smithers.”
“Yes, Mr. Smithers,” she started. “Your rooms are ready for you. Will you be needing rooms for the rest of the week?”
“Ah, yes, madame. For the rest of the week...for now,” he responded. “How much per night?”
Michael had to pretend-cough hard to cover up another laugh.
“Four hundred euros a night, Mr. Smithers,” she stated clearly without betraying any emotion. “We’ve already charged the deposit to the card on file.”
Kieran looked at the rest of us with a ‘shall we continue?’ face, and we all nodded.
“Of course, Mr. Smithers,” the lady stated. “Feel free to take the lift to your left up to your rooms.”
“Ah, yes, thank you,” he said as we all walked towards the lifts.
The woman gave us a quick nod and smile as the glass doors shut in front of us.
“So…Peter Smithers?” I asked once we were alone in the elevator.
“Dude, I know right!” Michael shouted from behind me. “I couldn’t believe it!”
“It was perfect,” Kieran replied proudly, perhaps mistaking Michael’s amusement for flattery.
“Wouldn’t the real Peter Smithers be able to recognize his own name?” asked Alexander. I have to admit I felt more than a modicum of relief that he had decided to break the silent treatment he had been giving us since our arrival in Madrid.
Kieran did not bother to answer straight away, but there was a resonant dinging sound as the lift doors opened on the fourth floor, where I could only assume our suite was located.
“Well, come on,” he said, not really answering the question but clearly expecting us to follow him out of the lift.
It was only then that I realized how exhausted I still felt. I had been running on adrenaline for the last forty-eight hours and I had slept for maybe six of those. What I had not shared with my teammates was that I had laid awake for most of the night after our battle in Rome, not to mention on our train ride to Madrid. All the extra energy I may have banked sleeping for those past few days seemed to have been depleted almost completely. I slumped against the side of the lift in an effort to prop myself up and reach some sort of standing position.
I couldn’t let my team see me like this. They would ask questions that I couldn’t answer, and I hated not seeming prepared and in control.
I stumbled forward, blinded by the harsh light, as the doors opened to reveal a well-lit and luxurious hallway. There were two doors either side of the hall with a mirror and coat stand in the middle. Two stone statues stood on either side of a dark wooden door at the very end of the hallway.
I squinted, trying to make out more details of the statues in the bright light. It looked as though they were holding some sort of weapon in their hands but from where I was standing I couldn’t quite tell.
The boys didn’t seem to notice the statues as they were now admiring the surprisingly spacious and well-appointed suite as they wandered into it. I followed behind them, dragging my feet as I tried not to drop onto the floor.
Dawn was surely breaking outside in Madrid, and it would be hours before it would be safe for Alexander to venture back outside with us regardless.
“The hunter needs to rest,” I said, slurring my words, fully aware I was making no bloody sense as I half-dragged myself down the hallway. “But the hunted always seeks its prey. So it seeks itself, or something. Whatever, I’m going to sleep before you lot get yourselves into trouble without me.”
Michael, Kieran, and Alexander made no effort to reply even if they had heard me; they were too busy closing the curtains and dragging their luggage into the various rooms of the suite.
I managed to slowly peel off my lavender silk summ
er scarf, dropping it onto the floor of one of the empty bedrooms as I stumbled into the ensuite and collapsed into bed.
I tried to remain awake, fully intending on waiting for the others to fall asleep so I could wander the suite and maybe research some more about the whereabouts of this magic portal, but I was just so exhausted from our trip that I fell fast asleep no more than a minute after my head hit the pillow.
When I opened my eyes, feeling terrifically refreshed, I was mildly disappointed to see a shaft of sunlight still shining through the curtains of the room. I could not have slept for too long. When I saw the digital display on the clock radio next to the bed, I was almost inspired to start.
It was only eleven bloody thirty still.
After silently reassuring myself that I felt rested enough, I stumbled into the en-suite, showered, and dressed in one of the last fresh sets of clothes I had packed.
I re-entered the bedroom to find that the lads were still asleep so I took the opportunity to have a look through the other rooms in the hopes of finding something relating to our mission.
The main room had an expensive looking laptop on a coffee table, with a leather lounge and a large flat screen TV, although there wasn’t anything on it. It was safe to assume that Kieran had brought it there.
“It is still morning, isn’t it?” Alexander's voice was not much of a surprise to hear—the curtains in the hotel suite were all still tightly drawn as not to let in the sun, and the team all seemed to be suffering from acute insomnia.
“Definitely,” answered Kieran, whose voice I also heard before turning around to see those two along with Michael, all awake as I was, lingering about the suite.
“Just give it some time, we’ll have the whole day to check out the city. You need the sleep, Natasha. You have been releasing more firepower in the past week than you ever have in your life. Your body still needs rest.”
“I’m already feeling a little more with it now,” I said in partial lie. “But I think I’ll pass on breakfast; I might just go for a walk around the block or something.”